Twilight's Escort Service

by Estee

Rating: teen
Tags: Spike, Rainbow Dash, Rarity, Twilight Sparkle, Applejack, Slice of Life, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic
Length: 15458

There are times when a young mare just really needs the money.

Twilight's just received her official government escort license, which allows her to legally take on passengers during a teleport. Unfortunately, the fee was hideously expensive -- enough to completely wipe out all her spare bits. And there's a major purchase coming up which she refuses to put off. So what better way to raise the money than by giving her freshly-approved skill a workout? After all, it's winter, it's cold, ponies will get home all the faster, and since Twilight knows what 'escort' means, so will everypony else.

It's probably best not to bet on that last part.

(Part of the Triptych Continuum, which has its own TVTropes page and FIMFiction group -- but can be read as a stand-alone, and no knowledge of the other stories is required. New members and trope edits are welcome.)

Now with author Patreon, SubscribeStar, and Ko-Fi pages.

Current cover art by Harwick: please contact him for commission rates. Original cover art by EquesTRON.

Published 2014-08-30 02:30:05 UTC
Last updated 2014-08-30 02:30:05 UTC

Accidental Innuendo Follows

It was that part of the winter where ponies began to sneak furtive looks towards the calendar in the hopes that the Wrap-Up had somehow been working backwards towards them: not a holiday left to celebrate until the seed plantings began, family long-since departed following the conclusion of Hearth's Warming Eve reunions (and in some cases, with the resulting wounds actually having begun to heal), and seemingly nothing to look forward to other than ice and snow and a bitter cold which the Weather Bureau scheduled for at least a two-week period in every frozen season, supposedly in the name of making Equestrians appreciate the slow-coming spring that much more. That the Bureau, which was located in a permanent warm-weather pocket featuring perfect temperatures, gentle breezes, and a total lack of ice crystals accumulating in coats, never had a chance to foster their own level of appreciation -- well, that was generally seen as irony or, at six weeks before equinox, a reason for declaring war.

Rarity, who had seen the rush from holiday sales go (and, at least for the just-passed year, actually come), typically didn't get a lot of traffic on such days: the period of culturally-mandated giving over, not too many birthdays on the calendar -- she had developed the bad habit of checking with Pinkie at least twice per week -- few ponies venturing outside for anything other than work, and the idea of trying on spring fashions meant removing layers... Put it all together and she generally used the slow period for design time, camped out at the edge of the Boutique (closest to the heating vents), sketching the hours away while occasionally glancing up if the front door began to open, simultaneously repressing the urge to duplicate her father's battle cry to just shut it already before all the heat gets out!

In this case, her first-and-likely-only visitor of the late afternoon possessed a distinctly slender form, one which nudged the door aside just enough to permit entry. The purple horn which led the way seemed to have a certain degree of droop to it, one which was amplified all the more by the head-down, drag-hoofed posture which followed. On the whole, the view seemed to indicate either a fairly bad day in progress or a rather ill-considered decision to use Poison Joke in a salad.

"Twilight?" The next words were carefully pitched: the unicorns had only known each other for seven moons, but that had been more than enough time for the designer to realize they were on the verge of a particularly bad subject. "Did... something go wrong with the... test?"

Twilight sighed and weakly kicked backwards at the door, not even bothering to exert her field in order to close it. "No, Rarity. I passed. I didn't... well, I didn't pass as thoroughly as I wanted to, but that wasn't my fault. I didn't get to take the whole test. I couldn't..." She trailed off, slowly looked around the Boutique. Awkwardly, "I'm not interrupting anything, am I? I mean, if you have a customer, I can just come back..."

Rarity smiled. "Nopony is hiding in the dressing room area, Twilight." And as little as two moons ago, the librarian never would have thought to ask. "Please, take a couch -- no, not the couches: they are much too far away from the best sources of warmth. Given that requirement, I would normally advise that we converse in a dressing room, but I would like to be in the open and visible for the unlikely event of a client braving this chill and stopping by. Come sit by the vents with me. I love having so much open space, but Celestia's shoes, heating it... So what happened? You passed -- but they did not allow you to take the complete test? How is that possible?"

Twilight slowly forced herself over to Rarity's section. A slightly-built body was lowered to the warmest patch of floor, the one which Rarity had just surrendered, oriented so that the two were facing each other. Sighed again. "You know how worried I've been about getting my escort license."

Rarity nodded. Twilight had only learned to teleport during their original mission, and had spent some time -- an amount which the librarian still saw as too little -- researching the working afterwards. Escorting was the art of bringing others along through the between, permitting a unicorn to take on passengers. It was generally considered to be a tricky process and due to the difficulty of it (along with a dreadfully persistent and never-proven rumor that it was possible for an untested pony to lose their companion), nopony was allowed to try it before passing an official government test. But Twilight had seen the tactical advantages for future missions, and following a certain ticket-based fiasco...

The designer frowned. "They didn't give you any trouble about taking Spike along that one time, did they? That was simply a stress surge, something I would expect any unicorn, government official or not, to understand."

"No," Twilight miserably said. "Well -- they wanted to, but it turned out there's nothing in the regulations about unlicensed escort of a dragon."

Rarity blinked. "Nothing?"

"Apparently nopony had ever tried it before." With a light touch of wryness, "From what I got from listening to the argument, whoever worked out the laws thought nopony would be stupid enough to make the attempt, partially because they were just thinking about adult dragons in the first place and nopony's ever tried to move that level of mass. There aren't exactly many who were suicidal enough to get within range..." A small shrug. "They were really curious about the way his scales reacted. After they stopped yelling, anyway. They were still trying to rewrite the regulations when I left."

Rarity managed a smile. "But you got out in one piece, Twilight, with a passed test... I must admit, I am failing to perceive the issue."

"It's -- two things." The designer listened. "First... I only got licensed for three. You know I was going for six so I could take all of us along if a mission called for it, at least for short-range travel... I still don't even want to try a solo jump to Canterlot, that's one whole gallop of distance and just thinking about taking on that many..."

It justified another blink. "You got up to three -- and then..." Carefully, carefully... "...did not quite manage to accommodate their standards?"

Openly miserable. "I didn't even get to test on four."

Confused. "Whyever not, after passing for three?"

"There was a fee."

"To take that part of the test?"

Twilight nodded.

Rarity frowned. "How much of a fee?"

Twilight named a number. Giving it the full proper title involved quite a bit of time, along with a rather unexpected comma.

The designer blanched. "Oh, Twilight... how could you... how do they expect anypony to pay that?"

"I don't know if they do," Twilight groaned. "The way they see it... Escorting's supposed to be so tricky, Rarity... and it's also supposed to get harder as the number of ponies you're taking on goes up. There are whole books about the military applications of fast troop movement, and most of them are filled with how it was impossible to find anypony who could move a whole platoon anyway... So the test and licensing fees aren't too bad if you're applying to take on one pony... but then they start going up. Geometrically. In the name of keeping ponies from trying things they can't manage. But if you can, and you can't afford it... It took every bit I had just to get through three, and I only had that much on me because I was planning on hitting a couple of thaumaturgy shops in Canterlot before coming back. They wiped me out, Rarity. Totally. Every spare bit of spending money I had. And..."

Her tail drooped. The horn seemed to curve in on itself.

"...I'm not properly licensed, not for six, so if something happens on a mission, I'll have to make two trips and if anything -- the ponies who got left behind, waiting for me to come back, and..."

Rarity's field exerted: soft blue tilted Twilight's chin up. "Do you feel you could manage six?"

A tiny nod.

Smiling, "Then I trust you, Twilight. As do the others, I am sure. If it happens... I do not believe any of us would express our gratitude over being rescued through reporting the violation."

It didn't take out a single tenth-bit of the misery. "But I wouldn't be licensed for it."

"A piece of paper is required to save our lives?"

"I wouldn't be doing it legally, there are rules, and... I wasn't tested, not officially, and if... if I got something wrong..."

Rarity carefully scooted her body across the floor, tried to get closer while simultaneously changing orientation in order to let her press against her friend's side: comfort through presence.

Twilight shifted away. Not very far -- a hoofwidth or two -- but the shift was there.

Rarity kept the sigh internal. Only seven moons. It will come. If we are all patient. "We trust you, Twilight," she softly said. "Perhaps more than you trust yourself."

The silence spent some time trying to speak for both, but had very little to say.

"And there's a book," Twilight finally said.

"On escorting? A mandatory text to study?" More than a little angry, "And how much are they charging for that?"

"No." Twilight forced a smile: the effort held for two seconds before collapsing under its own weight. "Earnest Young. He has a new publication coming out next week. I have to get the first edition. And now I can't. My grant money won't come in before it sells out, I'm not expecting a pay voucher from the library until the end of the moon, I'm at my seasonal limit for submissions to the Equestrian Magic Society... I'm just broke, Rarity. Completely and utterly broke. I have just enough bits to get through my expenses until something comes in. Nothing else. It's like being trapped..." And out of nowhere, the sudden burst of soft empathy which was becoming her hallmark: "Celestia's mane, this must be how Fluttershy feels all the time..."

Rarity, who had been designing yet another seasonal garment for the animal caretaker, a piece intended as a gift to be dropped off in silence under cover of darkness and never mentioned again, said nothing. She simply waited for the realization to fully sink in, gave the librarian a minute to compose the first draft of the internal letter, and held on the next portion while anticipating the joy she was about to bring to Twilight's life.

Eventually, the opportunity arrived. "But I need that book, Rarity. It's vital for my research. And because it's a specialty publication, I couldn't order one using the library's budget -- I'm the only pony in town who would read it. So I'm going to miss the first edition, and... it'll mess everything up."

"Then allow me to buy it for you," Rarity generously offered, and waited for the happiness to break through.

There seemed to be a certain amount of barrier in the way. "You can't."

"Twilight, it is but a book. I realize the time for formal and national gift-giving has passed and your birthday is some moons away, but there is nothing wrong with friends giving each other little things simply because they wish to, and no guilt or feeling of obligation should serve as the wrapping. Now, what is the title? I will need to place the order immediately."

Absolute certainty. "You can't afford it."

Rarity was unsure whether to feel pleased about Twilight's concern or slightly insulted regarding the librarian's impression of her finances. "Very well, it is hardly a secret that I carry a certain amount of debt, but I paid down quite a bit of the Boutique after the holiday: I am ahead at the moment. I believe my budget can stretch to cover a collection of paper and ink, binding quite possibly included --"

Twilight named another number. It took about a half-second less than the first, but included several titles.

Rarity blinked. Starkly, "That much."

"Yes."

"Why?"

In the same tones that would be used for explaining 'The Princess raises the Sun' to a youngling, "Because it's the first edition."

"And... when does the second edition come out?"

"One week later."

Not really expecting a favorable answer, "Is there a price difference? Does the cost somehow manage to go up?"

Disgusted, but with the target of that emotion unidentified. "It's one-twentieth of the first."

Utter confusion. "So... why cannot you simply wait the week and then purchase the next?

Now insisting that really, the Sun didn't move itself and how anypony, even the youngest, could ever get that kind of stupid idea in their heads... "Because it's the second edition."

A certain degree of abyss was beginning to split the conversation.

"And...?"

"It's not as valuable."

"I would say not, if you're paying five percent of the price for the first!"

"You don't understand, Rarity..."

"It would appear you are quite correct. So explain it to me. Is there bonus material in the first edition which does not appear in any other? Extra chapters? The author's personal notes? Elegant calligraphy? Perhaps an autograph made out to the mare who purchased it, thanking her for turning over so very much of her income towards the funds for the celebratory release party, especially since you will have single-hoofedly booked the hall?"

"No."

"So... beyond their respective prices, what distinguishes them from each other?"

"One has 'first edition' in the upper right corner of the cover and the other has 'second'." After a moment of thought, "Oh, and there's a similar notice on the copyright page."

The gap was beginning to widen.

"So you would be able to learn the same things from the second edition as you would with the first?"

"I suppose... but how is that even a point?"

A certain amount of Tartarus was now visible at the bottom.

Cautiously, "Perhaps I am trying to say that if the purpose is to learn from the text, any edition would serve unless one had somehow managed to miss their education on the word 'first'?"

"Any true researcher would insist on a first edition! I'm a scholar! And the way I prove that is by owning a first edition! Everypony else is just an amateur!"

Two mares, each convinced she was standing firmly on The Shores Of Rationality, stared helplessly into The Sea Of Confusion and despaired over their inability to ever rescue the friend helplessly floundering within.

Finally, Rarity sighed again. "In that case... I am sorry, Twilight, but... I used much of my profits from the holiday to pay down certain debts, and a great deal of the rest will be arriving at the Boutique in the form of fabric bolts and dyes to be used in my upcoming collection. I simply cannot afford to gift you a --" last-ditch, subtle, and completely hopeless emphasis "-- first edition. I do not believe the Bearers could even manage it as a group. Perhaps if you asked your parents for assistance...?"

Which got her a tiny snort. "Personal student of the Princess. Element-Bearer. Has to hit her parents up for a loan. And every time I talk to her about the first two, she'll bring up the third and never, ever drop it... I am not going to my mother for help, Rarity."

"And -- your father?"

"She issues his budget."

This particular silence reeled towards the doors, seeking medical attention.

"Rather too cold for a stable sale," Rarity finally mused.

"I don't even have anything I could sell."

"A very short-term bank loan?"

"They haven't spoken to me since the parasprites ate the last two decades of ledgers."

"...Twilight?"

"Yes?"

"Good luck."

Twilight trotted home. She could have teleported: she'd been maintaining a safe space in the basement for just such occasions. But all things considered, she just didn't feel like it. After all, teleportation was the whole problem. If the licensing fee hadn't been so ridiculously high...

(Rarity had, at one point just before she'd left, delicately asked her why she hadn't just approached the Princess and asked for the bits to cover the cost or an outright royal waiver of it, especially since Twilight was trying to acquire the license for use on missions. Twilight hadn't understood the question. You didn't ask the Princess about, after, or for money. Or at least, she didn't, and a tiny, generally-silent part of her had let out an internal shriek of fear at the thought of ever trying to quantify the student-teacher relationship as bits, largely from terror that doing so was the best way to end that relationship once and for all.)

She grumbled to herself as she slowly moved through a frozen Ponyville, and very few others were around to hear it.

Cold. Far too cold for her personal comfort, and there was now a snow flurry dancing through the air, tiny artforms of white crystals which Twilight had no current appreciation for. Canterlot tended to have milder winters, which now seemed to be a matter of royal preference. Princess Luna supposedly enjoyed the chill and was rumored to be more or less immune to the stuff, but virtually nopony had seen the younger alicorn since the Return and Twilight was hardly going to intrude on what was supposedly some very intensive catch-up history lessons (among other things) just to ask that kind of question.

Twilight didn't exactly love the cold, had no special fondness for snow forts, sleighrides (or pulling), or anything else which came with the season. Like so much of Ponyville, she was just waiting for Winter to Wrap-Up already. Lifting her hooves out of accumulated snow was just extra effort: washing them in warm water once she got back to the library was a necessary waste of time -- but still a waste.

It was hardly any wonder, having so few ponies traveling on hoof. Even most of the pegasi were too cold to fly, although a few seemed perfectly content with the weather and swooped about laughing, not bothered by the chill at all. Twilight was too distracted to wonder why.

I need that first edition. I know Rarity's bright, she understands so much... why didn't she get that?

Deep, frustrated contemplation.

I guess when you drop out of school in fifth year, you just don't recognize certain requirements for postgraduate work. Satisfied with the answer (and very little else), she trotted on. Just like the license office couldn't recognize that by pricing the fee for taking on six so high, they're effectively keeping anypony who can do it from ever proving it. There could be dozens of ponies across Equestria who could pull it off if they needed to and they'll never be able to afford the test.

I mean, I'm sure I could have done it and it's not like I'm anything special, thought the Element of Magic. I just can't afford to prove it. I might never be able to save up the fee for six, not with the way that life just -- happens. And if I'd postponed... the office is only open once per season because so few ponies test in the first place, something could have happened to wipe out my bits...

Another sigh. Her dragging tail was now beginning to pick up snow.

But the important thing right now is the book. I have to get the first edition. Where could I get the bits?

As Rarity had noted, 'friends' were out and 'family' was an option Twilight was never going to pursue. She couldn't put in any overtime, at least not of the paid variety. Writing a book in a week, getting a publisher, receiving an advance... no.

She thought, and trotted, and pulled most of a small snow battlement along in her tail as the ammunition required for defense built up around her hooves.

It's too cold to think.

It's too cold to be trotting out here.

I mean, why would anypony trot in this cold if they could just --

She stopped.

Twilight blinked. A certain amount of flakes dislodged themselves from her eyelashes

And then the flash of light took her (and all the problems) away.

Most of the Ponyville residents who saw Twilight on the following day didn't think much of the encounter, mostly because it didn't seem to be any direct level of threat. The librarian was simply here and there within the settled zone. To some extent, she could almost be described as being everywhere, or at least taking a serious gallop at it. And everywhere she went, the pinkish field held a camera aloft and snapped pictures of her surroundings.

It really didn't seem to be anything worth worrying about, at least for the majority. Twilight did -- well, 'odd' was fair -- things sometimes, and a few of those activities led to a level of chaos which had not-so-subtly increased on the day she'd moved into town and never really dropped since -- but this was just photography. Most of the ponies who sighted her decided she was working on a scrapbook. A few guessed that a teleporter would have increased need for exact knowledge of certain locations and so was putting together an emergency travel guide for study, especially since so many camera shots were directed at typically-empty spaces: alleys, backyards, gazebos which stood abandoned until spring. The Flower Trio immediately decided that whatever it was, they personally wanted nothing to do with it and went into their fortieth collective shivering lockdown of her stay, Hoovmat Suits at the ready.

The lights were on late in the library that night, but that was another common occurrence, one which drew no notice from ponies who had become accustomed to study hours which generally seemed inspired by a determination to greet Celestia and Luna in turn for up to a week, and had even begun to jump a little less at the explosions which normally came in around the fourth go-round. And as for the sounds of the printing press which had been borrowed from Cheerilee, now happily stamping away under Moon... why, that was barely worth thinking about at all: everypony fully expected Twilight to write a book one day, and seeing how the pages looked in rendered draft seemed sensible. By the time she finished, virtually everypony was asleep, and so none saw her happily moving about the town, taping up the results in multiple prominent locations, making sure nopony would miss their chance at viewing them.

The posters themselves drew a certain amount of attention.

Twilight's Escort Service

Anywhere*. Anytime**. Anypony***.

An Experience You've Never Had! Why Be Cold And Alone? Warmth And Comfort Await!

Trust In Skill! Trust In Teachings Learned Directly At The Hooves And Field Of The Princess!

Appointments To Be Made At Library. Advance Bookings Recommended, But Drop-In Visits Will Be Accommodated As Time, Energy, And Schedule Permit.

Fully Licensed And Accredited By The Appropriate Canterlot Office. CEO #1792. Paperwork Available On Request.

Available For A Limited Time Only. Payment In Advance. Tips Welcome.

(Young: Need The Money.)

This was followed by somewhat smaller print.

*'Anywhere' refers to Ponyville's settled zone and minor portions of the fringe. Some hoof effort may be involved on the receiving end. I cannot promise instant results for anypony, but all will achieve their desire with surprisingly little effort.

**'Anytime' would generally be restricted by normal pony working hours, but I understand that several ponies will both prefer and require my services at night, and as this is a limited-time offer set during a season when ponies would not wish to be cold and alone, especially under Moon, I will do my best to service them at any hour I can manage. Please do understand that there will be certain points when it may seem as if I am tired, but I am still fully licensed and accredited, and so can accomplish the feat regardless of waking state. In fact, there are studies which suggest that superior results occur when some degree of exertion has already taken place, as the escorter is more relaxed and lack of tension seems to allow the tackling of more impressive feats.

*^*'Anypony' is normally defined as any single pony entity, but I will also escort any sapient being residing within the settled zone. I do not discriminate in my services. Additionally, escort service is available for parties of up to three, and those parties can be mixed ones. I would appreciate notice well in advance so I can figure out how to deal with unusual issues of size or mass, but will try to adjust quickly for true emergency needs.

Many ponies read those posters. Several read them over a few times. Two took them home.

Quite a few Ponyville residents decided there had to be some mistake. Twelve came to the conclusion that Rainbow was clearly playing a practical joke on her friend, a decidedly unfunny one which they were all going to lecture her about the next time they saw her, and those lectures would go on until the weather coordinator understood the issues in hitting somepony with a category of interaction which they believed Twilight would be in no way able to manage, which meant some of those lectures might still be going when Summer Shut-Down arrived. A few others finished the text, figured out there had to be some kind of experiment waiting at the end of it all, something which Twilight could not casually blackmail ponies into volunteering for as a substitute for unpaid late fees, and resolved not to go anywhere near the library until somepony else informed them that the Limited Time had safely expired. And since none of those who initially saw the posters were her friends, nopony went to inquire about the why, especially since for those who believed the whole thing, the reason had been so carefully spelled out within the parentheses.

But it was Twilight. For a few, that meant anything seemed possible.

And so a number went to the library...

Viewed from the aftermath, having Mr. Flankington as the first pony to take Twilight up on her offer was probably a bad thing.

"Is she in?" Ponyville's most notorious restauranteur asked as he trotted into the library, shaking fresh snow accumulation out of dark green feathers.

Spike looked up from the blank appointment book, automatically winced. Mr. Flankington was... well, he was one of those parts of Ponyville you just had to get used to. There were a number of natural assumptions built into pony society, and chief among those was the one which stated Any establishment or business will be run by somepony with a mark appropriate to the operation of that facility. It was almost a guarantee for some level of quality: you could go from simply good to the truly outstanding, but horrible just wasn't supposed to come into play. In the case of Mr. Flankington... he ran a restaurant, and did so as a one-pony operation: cook, menu coordinator, server, interior design, special events planner -- all of it. And his mark... was two crossed bubbling, smoking, and suspiciously-hued test tubes.

Mr. Flankington was forever experimenting, trying to find the right food to serve to his patrons -- or at least, the food which would bring him patrons at all, for most Ponyville residents ate at his establishment exactly once, and that only if somepony didn't warn them in time. Mr. Flankington claimed to be Equestria's foremost expert in the culturing, preparation, and serving of Saddle Arabian Grass: he had gone to multiple tables swearing his product was the genuine article, and multiple ponies had gone to the emergency room swearing it wasn't. Mr. Flankington always had a surge in business during summer tourist season, because visiting ponies would enter under the Appropriate Mark Assumption and leave under the Rolling Tide Of Nausea Result. What the Nightmare had been to the concept of Sun, Mr. Flankington was to ambush taste-tests: a demand to block that thing out forever. And no matter what anypony said to him, or declared in court before the inevitable minor judgment came down against him, he would not stop trying.

Mr. Flankington was enthusiastic, generally kind, happy to discuss the non-science he kept trying to describe as food chemistry to anypony or dragon who couldn't get away in time. He was a genuinely nice pony who never meant anypony any harm. He could clear a banquet hall in nine seconds flat, and that as an invited guest. And Mr. Flankington adored Spike -- because the little dragon could eat just about anything, and so served as Taste-Tester Of Choice, along with the perfect way to dispose of the evidence when the current experiment didn't react quite as well with the second victim.

Spike swallowed, and hoped it wasn't a preview. "Yes, she is," he carefully said. "Do you need her for something, or did you want to ask about -- borrowing -- me?"

"Her this time, Spike," Mr. Flankington smiled, bright red eyes dancing. "But thank you for asking. I would like to get you for next week. There's this extract... well, don't tell anypony just yet, but I'm convinced that if I just do a concentration of bullion..."

Spike slowly began to back away from the still-blank appointment book. "And what is this about?"

"Her escort services," the pegasus pleasantly answered. "And I have a particularly urgent need, so I'd like to receive them immediately. Quickly, if you would?"

Spike blinked. "Oh! Sure, I'll get her -- she's been hoping somepony would... she's in the basement, hang on...!"

He raced for the door, with his normal hesitation to enter Ground Zero momentarily banished -- then froze halfway down the steps as it all came back. The distance covered was still enough to let him see Twilight, whose field was busy polishing an assortment of beakers. "Twilight! You've got one!"

The bangs shifted as her head jerked up. "An escort client? Already? We've barely been open fifteen minutes! I was hoping, but... I wasn't sure it was going to work!" With worry trying to rise through the sea of enthusiasm, "Do you think... well, honestly, Spike, I didn't like putting anything about the Princess into the poster, it felt like... bragging... but when you said that ponies would be less nervous if they thought she was involved... and we did talk about it for a few minutes once... but if he's just here because I mentioned her..."

"He's here, Twilight!" Spike beamed. "Isn't that what counts? Come upstairs, he wants to be serviced right now! -- but... it's Mr. Flankington..."

Twilight, who had been a quarter of the way up the stairs, stopped dead. Mane and tail vibrated for several seconds. "Does he -- smell like anything?"

"No more than usual."

"Did you hear any explosions?"

"Not even from the Acres."

"Screaming?"

"Maybe a little. From the Acres. I might have caught the word 'Crusade' in there."

"So he's not fleeing from anything. Or anypony."

"Not this time... I think."

"Okay... I'll take the chance..."

They both entered the main library. Mr. Flankington was standing near the checkout desk, now nervously shuffling his weight from hoof to hoof.

"Oh, Ms. Sparkle," he said, and the middle-aged face briefly wore an expression of pure awkwardness, one which threatened to break the final barrier into the approaching senior years. "I suppose we can proceed if you're available and ready for me..." The left forehoof scraped the floor as his head went down, weighted by a very open embarrassment.

"Mr. Flankington?" Caution from Twilight, who was now wondering if there was something worse than an emergency retreat from a rare species of winter tourist involved. "Are you all right?"

He glanced up. "Pardon my seeming hesitation, Ms. Sparkle, I'm trying not to second-guess myself here. I just haven't... done this in quite some time. And frankly... never with somepony so young. But I read your poster, and I believe in your license and accreditation. Certainly I believe in the student of the Princess. It just seemed so obvious on the way here, and now that I'm actually on the verge, I guess... I'm having second thoughts. No matter how much I need this, or -- how much I'm embarrassed by that need."

Twilight smiled, took a single hoofstep forward. "We all need help now and again, sir... especially me. If you don't want to do this, I'll understand. But please, believe I can take you on and things will be all the better for it."

A sigh. "I know." And a small smile. "Regardless of the need, it's just hard to make the embarrassment go away. So... are you familiar with my residence?"

Twilight concentrated. "One moment..." She trotted over to the hastily-compiled reference text, let her field flip the pages. Yes, there it was, along with a safe arrival point nearby. Like Fluttershy, Mr. Flankington lived right up against the border of the wild zone's fringe. In her case, it was to be that much closer to the animals who might need her. With him, it was a question of popular demand.

She stared at the picture, did her best to recall the sensation of standing near the spot where she'd captured the image. Took several deep breaths. "Ready, sir." He managed another smile, trotted closer, negotiated and gave over the payment. "It works best if you're touching me."

"Yes, I remember..."

Spike closed his eyes just in time to shield them from the flash.

"Thank you, Ms. Sparkle. That was indeed quite an experience."

"You're quite welcome, Mr. Flankington. Was everything to your satisfaction?"

"Oh, yes. Completely. But I have to confess... you're not my first."

Curiously, "Oh?"

"Well, Spike may have told you -- I used to live in Manehattan. Well, it's hardly a secret: I haven't exactly lost all the accent. And Manehattan has any number of escort services, some of whom rent spaces within the city so everypony can complete their business in safety. Of course, that space leads to most of the cost..."

She giggled. "I'm not surprised."

"Well, it's a much more crowded settled zone. That makes it much harder to ensure privacy and safety. So in that sense, it's a sound and sensible investment, especially when needs are urgent. But... Ms. Sparkle... you are good. I say that as a pony who's used escorts before. And... forgive an older stallion his embarrassment. It's just that... I was never very good at flying in the coldest weather, and today is proof of the sadist population at the Bureau. That's only gotten worse as I've aged. I could barely get off the ground today, let alone make any real speed, and when I realized I had to get the chemicals out of my test shed and into the restaurant before they chilled to the critical point... well, you saved me, Ms. Sparkle, along with most of my lab equipment. Thank you, and please accept this tip -- and if I might make you dinner as a final thanks?"

Hastily, "Your gratitude is enough for me, Mr. Flankington. Besides, I don't know what hours ponies will be wanting escorts during for the next few days... I can't commit to any dinner schedule, and I'm always a little worried about leaving Spike in charge of the library..."

"He's a good brother and capable substitute," Mr. Flankington assured her. "Odd taste in pastries, though. So perhaps after your funding drive wraps up? I usually wait for the second edition myself, but of course, I can't use the field-related portions of the work and when it comes to the rest, I consider myself more of an amateur. Still, after this latest bit of reading, I'm planning on adapting some of it to a seven-course --"

In the kind of rush where to pause for any level of punctuation would be for the rush of ill-advised chemical combinations to catch up to one's tongue, "I'd better get back maybe we'll talk about it later and compare notes I'm sure I have appointments piling up bye!"

It had taken several trips to complete Mr. Flankington's escort, and he had paid accordingly. (Twilight had even paused to help him set the equipment back up on the other end, hoping her efforts would at least delay the inevitable, or at least the plate-based service of same.) And in that time...

"Twilight," Spike gasped as she exited the basement. "You've got more appointments! I haven't exactly had ponies queueing up, but there's been at least one in the library every minute since you left!"

Twilight beamed, the burst of relief coming through in relaxed tail and what suddenly appeared as a much shinier coat. "It's working! It really is, Spike! I didn't know if there would be any real demand for an escort service in Ponyville, not when there isn't as much area to cover... but when it's this cold... ponies are willing to pay to save time and get home warm! Plus there's services like Mr. Flankington's to consider! That was really more of a delivery... maybe I should rewrite the posters..."

"Careful," her sibling cautioned. "There aren't many teleporters in town and there's a good chance you're the only one who's licensed to escort, but speed deliveries are normally a pegasus thing. Do too much of that and you're going to hear complaints from the couriers, not to mention the post office."

"But for cases like his, with things which shouldn't be exposed to the weather..."

"Just stick to escorting for now," Spike suggested. "Less competition. Want the next one?"

She grinned. "Absolutely. Who is it?"

The brown earth pony smiled brightly as she approached through the wind-drifted snow. It was a dazzling smile, warm and attractive and welcoming, which still lost something for all the times it had been carefully practiced. "Twilight. Right on time! Not that I expected anything else, of course..." An equally-practiced chuckle was released from captivity by Ponyville's most notorious serial dater.

"Hello, Caramel," Twilight smiled back, this time with a little discomfort behind it. She actually knew something of Caramel's habits, which had taken a major joint effort from Rainbow (who had nearly been an early victim before her 'horse apple detector' had gone off) and Rarity (who had listened to gossip supplied by those mares who hadn't heard the alarm in time). It made her a little uncomfortable around him, and she knew other mares felt the same way. But not all. Never all, as evidenced by the daisy chain of romance and ridiculously expensive gifts and inevitable breakups stretching off to the horizon. "I read over your appointment, but Spike had the quill break in the middle of writing it down and couldn't get a fresh one. Can I just clear up a few details first?"

Another smile, one which had never served to block the final vase kicked at his head by the last marefriend. "Of course."

"So first... I'm just taking on you, right? Nopony else?"

The expression on Caramel's face was hard to quantify, perhaps because it had no previous experience at being in the open. There was a light touch of horror, a heavy dose of intrigue, and at least six tentative background fantasies. "You were expecting... more ponies?"

"Well, I couldn't be sure." One of the ink blots had been over the crucial number. "I did put down in the fine print that I'm licensed for up to three, but I'm not certain everypony read that far." And now some of the frustration was starting to come out. "Honestly, I wanted to take the government test to get a license for six, but the fee was just so high! I'm sure I could have done it, though. I just know I could have found more ponies in the license office who would have wanted me to give them a ride. And frankly, taking on three didn't tire me out at all!!"

Caramel's expression now seemed to indicate a desperate attempt to figure out just where he could get two more ponies at this hour. It faded quickly. "No, Twilight... just me. At least this time. Honestly, if I'd known... well, there are certain practicalities involved with a group, yes?"

Bulk savings, for starters. "There sure are! But there's also a certain amount of coordinating involved, and you have to sort of distribute the effort so that nopony gets too much or too little..."

The stallion's eyes widened -- and then another chuckle emerged, one which was followed by half a whisper, not caring very much about whether the mare covered in scarf, jacket, and boots heard. "So it's true what they say... it's always the quiet ones..."

"...Caramel?"

"Well, shall we begin?" he ignored the query. "I have to say, I was surprised, Twilight -- very much so. Of all the ponies in town... and for you to have been taught by the Princess... well, there's so many stories, some of which I'm sure you've heard, possibly even from her. But since she's lived so long, I'm sure she's mastered any number of tricks, and with you as her --" and there was the lightest of snickers "-- personal student... you know, I never considered all the implications before this, and I'm looking forward to exploring all of them with you."

"Well, you can drop by the library for additional appointments any time," Twilight carefully said. "But I don't really talk about most of her lessons, especially... well, it's easier to demonstrate at least some of the time, especially when somepony else hasn't mastered it."

Which made his smile all the wider. "I'm not regretting this in the least, you know."

"You -- were expecting to?"

"Well, I've been in town for a while now, and I know you talk to Rarity, and she talks to everypony else... I suppose there's a chance it's common knowledge that before coming here, when it came to my escort needs -- along with everything else -- I prefer pegasus mares."

Twilight nodded. Short-range air carriage services were in most of the major settled zones. "Of course. And unicorns are more expensive anyway, at least according to the research I did."

"I was surprised you were charging so little," Caramel admitted.

"Well, it's a fresh license and I thought ponies would pay more based on experience. Plus I was sort of hoping to make it up on volume."

Another chuckle. "Yes... well, I am definitely ready for that experience I've never had, Twilight -- and believe me, with all the pegasi I've had as escorts, that's going to be saying something. But the unicorn way..." He proffered several bits.

She collected the payment. "May I touch you? It's a little easier that way."

That got a blink -- and then a thoughtful look. "Oh, yes... I'm guessing there's all kinds of aspects to a field at work. Yes, please, Twilight." He glanced around at the empty, cold street. "Anywhere you like."

She pressed her flank against his. Her horn's corona ignited. Light flared --

severance

the earth is always there

I am bonded to it

and it to me

we hear each other

we speak to each other

and now that voice is gone

I am listening and nothing answers

I am shouting and nothing hears me

I am lost

-- they emerged from between, a mere quarter-block from Caramel's residence. "There you go!" Twilight beamed. "I know there's a little bit of trotting left, but this is as close as I could get, given the preparation time. It's not like Canterlot, which sets aside gatehouses -- oh, and Mr. Flankington was telling me some interesting things about Manehattan, I was thinking about going to the mayor... Caramel?"

He reeled, leaned his body against the nearest fence, barely felt the chill as the metal pulled heat from his body. "What... what?" The reconnection had been almost as jarring as the severance, and nearly all of his resources were currently being channeled into making sure everything was actually there, starting with him. "What... what happened...?"

"Your first escort!" Twilight declared. "I said it would be a new experience --" and her tones shifted register into worry. She moved to face him, leaned in, the horn coming close to his forehead. "Are you feeling all right? You look a little shaken up. That's never happened before, not even with Spike, and it turned out he's sort of allergic --"

"-- fine," Caramel gasped in the general direction of the unicorn he never wanted to see again. "Fine! Just wasn't expecting -- the landing! Hoof on a rock! Leaned off to the side!"

She glanced down. "I don't see any --"

"-- under my hoof! Maybe wedged into a crack! Got to go take care of it!"

"I'm sorry..." Now desperate to apologize. "I should have scouted things out more carefully... I can displace some amount of snow when I arrive without recoil, that's why I'm aiming for the lighter patches, but I never thought about rocks... if any degree of refund would help..."

"Go! Fine!"

"Are you sure --"

" -- go!"

She vanished. Caramel blinked away the dazzle, then stared down the endless quarter-block which led to his doorstep, bedroom, and the myriad delights he was in no way going to experience. Ever.

"Was it good for me too?" he dazedly asked the air, and slumped to the welcoming earth.

It was rare for Applejack to have so much time to herself, at least so far as 'rare' could be quantified as 'about a quarter of the year'. But winter was the farmer's vacation time: the Acres put to bed for the duration, most of the maintenance work on the farm had been wrapped up in late autumn... there was just very little to do, for that value of 'very little' which still left her with a succession of six-hour days as opposed to her usual ten to fourteen, most of it spent checking on tenants. In winter, there was time to visit friends, do a little window shopping (especially for post-Hearth's Warming sales), try to set up dates for the spring where her chosen ponies would work a full shift or seven besides her in the name of testing compatibility through labor, a theory which had held true for her parents and grandparents and was so far completely failing to produce so much as a single pony who would not veer away from her at every chance meeting thereafter.

Honestly, it was amazing how few of them were even capable of making it to lunch.

Today... a little shopping: the barn needed some fresh paint after Apple Bloom's morning efforts had been taken away from her chores and diverted towards the idiotic Crusade, and Applejack had yet to learn just to be thankful for still having a standing barn. Plus the pantry needed refreshing, and then with --

-- 'free time!' It was still a novelty --

-- she would have the chance to drop in on a few ponies. Maybe Rarity for ten minutes or until the designer said something irritating about Applejack's old-but-serviceable jacket, which probably centered around ten minutes to begin with. Twilight for a while: she wanted to ask the librarian about the possibility of books written on sane ways to find one's mark, which would at least give Apple Bloom something extra to ignore. Fluttershy on the way home. No telling where Rainbow was and it wasn't as if Applejack had any way of knocking on that door...

...or maybe the most unlikely would be the first, because a very familiar tail had just lashed into the right edge of her view. Two seconds passed, and it lashed into sight again, hard enough to leave parts of it in disarray.

She trotted through the gently-falling snow, approaching the pegasus with caution. Applejack had quickly learned the telltale signs which indicated Rainbow wasn't happy about something, along with some of the ways in which she tended to take that misery out on exactly the wrong ponies. In this case, Rainbow was very unhappy, a state perfectly visible from behind as her tail lashes gained both speed and extra style-wrecking flicks at the end. She was hovering in front of a notice board. Parts of her mane seemed to be lightly steaming. As Applejack got closer, she saw Rainbow's lips moving.

"...any sap-i-ent..." She seemed to pick up on Applejack's approach, rotated an ear in that direction without turning her head. "What does 'sapient' mean?"

"Thinkin'. Ah think. Why?"

The pegasus shifted her hover to the left, allowing Applejack to move in. "Take a look at this."

Applejack read it, which required no lip movements whatsoever.

Then she read it again.

"Aw no..." she breathed, and the horror steamed through the air.

"I know!" Rainbow shouted. "Can you believe this?"

"Ah kinda wish Ah didn't, but she told me about that stupid test last week, an' she was all wrigglin' inside her skin, jus' waitin' for that book t' come out..."

"Do you know what this is?" Rainbow, who had listened to nothing Applejack said, demanded.

"Trouble. Maybe big trouble..."

"It," Rainbow imperiously declared, "is infringement."

Applejack looked up. Rainbow ignored her. More lip movements got involved.

"Say what now?" Applejack carefully asked.

"It's pegasi who take ponies where they want to go! Sure, maybe some unicorns in the really big settled zones do it for those ponies who don't want to travel in style and I guess that technically, a teleport is faster... at least some of the time... but here she's saying that she's the pony around here who can get everypony where they need to go! And even non-ponies! You know who should be doing that? You know who could be earning extra bits at that while proving she can do it faster and safer and with more style than our egghead ever could?"

"Rainbow."

"Me!"

"Rainbow."

But it wasn't heard through the fuming, and likely wouldn't have been under calmer circumstances either. "Oh, it is on! All I need is a printing press and somepony to write the poster for me! Maybe Twilight would -- no! Not Twilight! She's the competition! I'm going to Cheerilee! She's a teacher, she's good with words! And then I'll just -- 'borrow' her printing press for a while. Just you wait and see, Applejack. If anypony in this town is going to be escorting, it'll be me, and I'm going to make sure everypony knows it...!"

And then there was a prismatic blur streaking away to the west.

Applejack closed her eyes and left them that way for as long as she dared, which was a whole two breaths. Opened them again, reached up with her teeth, and carefully pulled the poster from the wall.

She might be spending a little less time at Rarity's than originally planned.

Going pale was a little harder to pick out on the designer, but practice made perfect, and Rarity certainly gave anypony who knew her plenty of opportunities.

"Oh my."

"Yeah."

"Oh no."

"Pretty much."

"She can't possibly... there is simply no way she could have realized the way this reads..." The blue eyes slowly went over 'unusual issues of size or mass' for the third time. "Applejack, we must find her. Did you check the library?"

A head shake, which did nothing to shift the ever-present hat. "Y'all were closer. Thought Ah'd better get reinforcements first, jus' in case. So you'll come with?"

"Absolutely." The soft blue field lanced forward, flung open closet doors, began sorting through the contents in a desperate attempt to find something which would be warm, coordinate perfectly, and still look good when it was near Applejack's garments, with the last completely impossible. "Oh dear, oh dear... I suppose there is the tiniest chance that one or even several ponies are aware of what she meant, but the instant somepony who was not makes a move..."

"Gets worse," Applejack flatly pointed out as the fifth jacket choice was rejected at speed.

"And how, in your opinion, could this possibly get any worse?"

"Rainbow flew off t' be in competition with her. She's been dyin' to get her own back ever since the Runnin', y'know that. Bein' beaten by Twi in somethin' physical... still stings."

Slowly "So Rainbow, who actually knows what Twilight meant, is going to be trying to steal business away from her..."

"...business with ponies who don't."

The field paused in its labors. A distant part of Applejack's mind noted how the borders of the energy seemed to have a bit of shiver to them.

"She'll kill them."

"Probably."

"So -- we are attempting to chase down a teleporter with an itinerary, one who may not venture back to her starting point too often in the name of efficiency, simply moving from appointment to appointment... and a pegasus who happens to be one of the fastest ponies in Equestria."

The stark tones had reconciled all of it during the mad gallop to the Boutique. "Pretty much."

"I don't suppose... it's too much to hope nopony signed on for the service and we will be able to explain it in time?"

"Y'know all those ponies who're a little -- curious 'bout Twi? The ones who think all the shy 'bout relationships is this big dam with everythin' buildin' up behind it, waitin' t' flood as soon as it breaks, an' once it does, it's gonna wash all the shy away an' then some? An' it's gonna happen eventually, they're jus' waitin' for it, an' then..."

The white head dipped. "...yes." At which point, a prioritizing Rarity gave up on color coordination entirely and just put on the next seven things her field would surround, a decision which would lead to some rather unfortunate photography before the Sun was lowered. "Let's go."

There were three ponies in line when they reached the library. Applejack nearly bowled over two of them, and Rarity inadvertently knocked the third into a stack of periodicals.

"Appointments are closed!" the designer shouted. "Spike, close that book immediately! Write nothing else down, nothing whatsoever unless it is the word 'canceled', and in doing that, bring forth as many capital letters as you can muster! Everypony, this is over, over forever, there has been a simple misunderstanding, we will refund your bits, and --"

"-- oh, I get it," came the angry interjection. "Now that she's licensed, even her so-called friends have to make appointments!"

The words would have been considerably more effective without the quaver. And the stammer. Having to glare at the two freshly-arrived mares through thick glasses, ones where the lenses had steamed up from the climate change of their entrance, didn't help.

"Mister Waddle," Applejack carefully began, "Ah don't think y'understand what's goin' on here."

"Yes, I do!" came the furious response. "I've been watching her since she came to town! All that power wrapped up in that lovely little slim body, the way she likes to straighten out her bangs when she thinks nopony's looking, the happiness in her face when I donate a dusty volume from my attic... I've been waiting all this time for her to realize I was here! That there's nothing wrong with an older stallion! She studied under the oldest mare in the world, clearly she'll respect age, find it attractive!" A partial bridge of false teeth was nearly knocked loose by the force of the last word. "All this time in the library, just watching her and listening to her and... she's ready, the dam finally broke and she's ready, the flood waters are pouring everywhere and that's all right, I understand, and if I have to pay to be with her the first time, then when things recede to a normal flow, she'll see me still standing there, still waiting for her, and she'll finally understand how I --"

He writhed with indignation at those trying to steal his opportunity. Several protruding ear hairs independently wriggled.

"You're not closing that book," he stated. "Or filling it with your own selfish names. This is my chance, my chance at last and I don't know if I'll last long enough for another, you can't stand in my way --"

Spike, who had closed the book on instinct, stared at them all.

"Mister Waddle, she was writing about taking ponies places, using a method most have never experienced," a furiously-blushing Rarity tried to explain. "You have simply misread her words, something which I admit would be rather easy to do --"

"-- selfish!" he quavered. "So-called Generosity wants everything and everypony for herself! And that's before we get to the farmer, the one who supposedly won't look at anything but an earth pony and that's because she's hiding her real interest, being a horn-sticker who has a fascination with thievery --"

The bridge fell out. His head went down, tried to snag it between what was left of his teeth. The aim was off, and the false ones clattered to the floor.

Everypony in the library, including the other two who'd been in line, watched them until the vibration stopped. And then Applejack's head shoved against Mr. Waddle's flank.

"You can't do this to me!" he shouted, although it came out more as 'You canth doos dif to mesh!' "You can't stop true love!"

"Naw," Applejack grunted as she pushed him towards the exit. "But Ah can tell it t' go chill its fool head for a while..."

She got him out the door. A hard double-glare with Rarity got rid of the other two. A bookcase was shoved against the door, followed by a table, and finished off with Applejack leaning against the whole thing. Knocking came from the other side, along with a threat to sue for emotional damage and, after a shivering minute, a lighter request to at least toss out the teeth.

Spike blinked at them. "Guys... what just happened?"

Rarity took over. Urgently, "Spike, Twilight's poster does not necessarily read as she believes it does. Where is she?"

"What do you mean?" the confused little dragon asked. "It's about escorting. Everypony knows all about that!"

Rarity took a slow breath. Looked at Spike. Regarded his youth, his innocence...

Applejack groaned. "Rarity? Grew up in a magic school. It's the only way he's gonna know it, so it's the only way he can see anypony else knowin' it. Try somethin' else for now."

Rarity nodded. "Spike, will you trust me that there's a problem?"

Shyly and with a little widening of his eyes, "Yes..."

Good enough. "Has she been coming back here?"

"Only to check for new appointments," Spike replied. "She's been memorizing groups as they come in so she can go directly to each fresh one in a series of jumps. Saving time. Guys, what did she do? Do I have to go out there?"

"But she's been comin' back?" Applejack tried to ask, carefully ignoring both of his questions.

"Yes."

"Very well," Rarity said. "Should she return, tell her to stay here. No matter what. Let us see that appointment book. She's been asking for exact times, hasn't she? That would be Twilight all over: make a schedule and stick to it at all costs. And I daresay she's meeting at least one pony at a residence or perhaps a hotel. If we know when and where she has set herself to appear, we can go there and intercept."

Spike, still radiating confusion and infatuation in equal measure, slowly held out the book. Rarity's field seized it, flipped pages until she found the right ones. (Multiples had become involved.)

It produced a distinct, blunt, and very worried "Oh, bother."

"Rarity?" Applejack asked. "What's wrong?"

"Some of this ink wasn't dry when the book closed. Nearly everywhere she would have been already is visible, but most of the future ones are smeared. I cannot read anything which would be crucial. Not clearly."

"So how 'bout a spell to clean it up?"

Frustrated now, "Yes, because there is obviously a working for everything under Sun and Moon and I, a fifth-year dropout with strictly average field strength, would clearly know every last one of them. Applejack, why are you going to magic as the first resort?"

Equally blunt, "'cause it's you an' we're talkin' 'bout a cleanin' spell."

"...oh."

"Yeah."

"Unfortunately, mine only works on cloth and would wipe the ink away entirely. Come over here, help me... perhaps you can make this out. Is this word 'Ditzy' or 'Derpy'?"

Trotting. "Ah think it's 'Deli.'"

Spike, finally realizing nopony was ever going to explain anything, threw up his claws and went into the kitchen for a snack.

"I don't know... now that I get a look at you... you're just so small..."

Twilight had been through it before. "Size is no indication of skill, sir."

"And you just got your license. You don't have any real experience..."

She puffed out her rib cage a little, hoping it would make her look more imposing, or at least competent. She couldn't afford to lose a customer. And surely it wasn't showing off if she just talked a little about previous accomplishments, especially when they related to this... "Sir, I will have you know that I took on a dragon."

Dead silence. Cause of demise: shock.

"A dragon."

"Yes. And the licensing office said I was the first pony ever to do it."

"A. Dragon."

"I was the one who proved it could be done at all. Admittedly, they have some interesting reactions to the process..."

"A whole dragon?"

Now just a little bit irritated, "I'd like to see somepony do it with half a dragon."

"...all by yourself?"

"There wasn't anypony else around at the time and he really needed it, so -- yes."

"...you are a very scary pony. Do you know that?"

"Are we doing this or not?"

"So not the mayor's office."

"She's married."

"It could be an open marriage."

"Ah could be a buffalo. Ah ain't."

"Or she could be -- well, you know..."

"No, I don't know. Will somepony please tell me what I don't know already?!?"

"Go back in the kitchen, Spike. What's this word? Rickets? Racquet? No, wait -- Spike, you wrote it down, surely you must have some memory of -- Spike, come back... At any rate, there seems to be a major time gap after this one: she'll have to come back..."

"Hello, Ratchette. It's nice to meet you. Pinkie told me you were new in town, but you haven't been into the library yet, and we haven't had a chance to say hello..."

The mare blushed. She was steel-grey, with copper mane and eyes, perhaps a year younger than Pinkie. In truth, Twilight had been meaning to talk to her for the whole week since the baker had told her about the fresh arrival -- and described the mark in exacting detail. A mark Twilight had understood immediately, done so where few else ever would -- and never would have expected to see on a pegasus.

"It's nice to meet you too, Twilight," the mare shyly said. Her voice was a little high-pitched, slightly melodious. The left forehoof was lightly digging a trench in the snow. "I've been wanting to talk to you for a long time, actually. About... stuff we've got in common."

"Oh?"

Ratchette nodded towards Twilight's mark. Then to her own.

"Oh," Twilight said, understanding. "I've been wanting to ask about yours, actually. It's just that..." and there was no good way to let the next sentence come out.

It got a shy smile. The pegasus had a pretty face, really, with an interesting inner curve to the nose. "...I'm a pegasus."

"Oh, good," Twilight managed. "I wasn't sure you'd noticed..."

Her own face froze in horror --

-- and Ratchette laughed. "It's okay! I know I'm weird!"

Twilight looked at the mark again. It was a complicated one, but it was something any graduate student would understand -- if that student studied magic. A diagram which showed a typical flow of power through a device, those enchanted conveniences which made life easier... "It's just that... I've seen your mark before: one of my teachers had it. But..."

That got a sigh. "I like tinkering with devices. I always have. I like it more than weather or techniques or -- just about anything else." A quick, almost sad glance at her mark. "Some ponies would say I obviously liked it a little too much, and... they're idiots. Because this is me. I have a mark for devices. I tinker, I design -- I can't build because I can't do any of the workings, but sometimes I can free things up with minor repairs just because I can spot when some wire is out of place. Silver or platinum. My mark is for devices, Twilight... and yours is for magic. Marks happen, and I kind of thought... we'd have stuff to talk about."

Twilight found a small smile, saw it was a sincere one. "I'd love to, actually. Mrs. Wonderment only wants to talk about prices and she keeps trying to get me to do free repairs, she thinks I know the insides of everything and..." A tiny, helpless shrug silently summarized the youth of a filly who had spent a lot of time taking everything in her house apart, one who had never figured out how to put most of it back together -- at least in working order. (Her mother remembered all the ones which had done other things when reassembled, and reminded Twilight of them as often as she felt was necessary. That number was twenty times the one actually required.) "But right now, I have to do my job. And you're paying -- quite a lot, I think..." She looked over the field-suspended bits again. "Actually, it's kind of -- too much -- especially for such a short --"

"Can we go?" Ratchette asked as the trench grew deeper. "Before I -- lose my nerve?"

Well, if some older pegasi had trouble flying in the cold, maybe a few younger ones did too. And Ratchette had just moved in from the tropics. "Okay."

They went between and came out at a very familiar destination, one which had required no photography whatsoever: Sugarcube Corner. There was music blaring from the attic. Pinkie's half-day: the party was already in swing, gearing up the joy before the guest of honor arrived to soak it all in.

Twilight smiled at that guest. "Go on up."

Ratchette nodded, trotted towards the doors -- then paused. She glanced back at Twilight. "What's wrong?"

"...sorry?"

Fearful now, tail starting to go between her legs, "You're not coming."

"You hired me for --"

"-- the party. To take me here. To -- stay here." She was shivering now, and it had nothing to do with the cold. "For a while. Twilight... I'm weird. I know I'm weird. I've had ponies come up to me because they thought I was pretty -- and then they found out I'm just pretty weird, and they went away. I moved here... because it sounded like a weird place, and I thought I might fit in a little better. But I'm still weird, and -- there's a pony up there who's a little weirder than I am, one who announced she was going to throw me a party the second she saw me, and I don't hardly know anypony in town, I've only been here a week, and I'm..."

Her knees bent slightly. The lank mane covered one eye.

"...I'm scared," came the whisper. "I barely managed to get here at all. To talk myself into going to the library, and if I'd tried to come here alone -- I wouldn't have come at all. I just want -- company. Somepony I know. Even if it's only been for a few minutes. Somepony... professional. Who'll understand..."

Twilight looked at Ratchette through the falling snow. Thought about her own followup to that first meeting with Pinkie. The shock, disorientation which felt as if it would send her galloping into a cave and bringing down the entrance behind her so that nopony could ever find her again, the subconscious fear of getting it wrong which had manifested as a need to dismiss the whole thing. The utter upheaval of her world when it had originally been Partied. And the inner core of refusal to believe that anypony so energetic and full of life would have ever truly wanted to be her friend.

"I'll come in. I'll stay for a while. Until my next appointment."

"...thank you. Just for... transition."

"You're really overpaying, you know."

The beautiful smile was sincere. "It's worth it."

More ponies had been coming to the library, and nearly all of them had been there earlier. Many of the ponies whom Twilight had provided escort services to had -- complaints. Something about lack of fulfillment. Leaving without finishing the job. False advertising. And so on down the line. They were huffy, aggravated, wanted their bits back, and didn't care who knew it. One, who had pushed his way in through the kitchen window, was willing to settle down if Applejack served as an emergency substitute at no additional charge, and the savings from Twilight's surprisingly low fees (as compared to the usual cost for such things) could now be applied directly to that stallion's air carriage transport, because after Applejack had finished rebuking his rather physical attempts to check out the assumed merchandise, trotting home was completely out of the question. That theoretically would have been getting Rainbow some work, but nopony had seen her. Spike (after some eyelash-batting persuasion) had sent a letter telling her to come to the library immediately, with no result. The usual expectation was that it had once again appeared in front of her nose while she was making time, bopped it, and fallen to the ground while Rainbow vowed to find the snowball-kicker on the way back.

"She shoulda been back," Applejack bleakly stated. "Spike, you've gotta remember some of this, y'take notes down for Twilight all the time. Don't anythin' stick?"

"How long can you follow her when she starts lecturing?" Spike grumbled. "Through the ears and into the claws... I'm not Pinkie. I remember a lot of stuff, guys, but not everything. And when nopony can be bothered to tell me what I'm remembering anything for..."

They both ignored this. "Do we go to the police?" Rarity asked. "They would have seen the poster too."

"The one which says she's licensed an' even gives out the number?"

Rarity winced. "But if they feel she's in trouble..."

"They can't go house-to-house poundin' on every door jus' t' see if she's there. Besides, Twi can take care of herself."

"And what happens to the pony she takes care of in the process?"

A very blunt "Deserves it."

"When that pony feels they have properly paid for the services of a licensed..."

"She clears it up, they back down. Ain't no harm. She's gotta shove once, she's gotta shove. Twi can shove like nopony's business. She'll be fine. Ain't nopony in town a match for our Twi. Y'know that."

"And if she becomes confused? Panics because she does not understand what is happening, even for the most minor, legitimate, paid-for opening overture which ends as soon as it begins?" And then Rarity went for the heart of it. "Freaks out?"

The winter broke down the door. It was one of only two explanations for the way the moment had frozen, with the other being that all three had seen Twilight freak out.

"Ah don't know if we can find her..." Applejack helplessly said. "You're right, we've gotta, but the way she moves..."

"We must try. Start unblocking the door, unless you feel squeezing through the window would be faster. Spike, continue trying to read the appointment book: if you can make anything out, anything at all, send a letter to us immediately and if she arrives, you are still to keep her here, no matter what. We may be able to find an officer on the way and explain this --"

"-- but not to me," Spike noted, wringing his claws. "Guys, please... this sounds bad..."

"Perhaps worse for the pony on the other end. In five -- seven? What is your maturation rate...? Twenty years. Twenty to be safe. Twenty years and I will explain it all, Spike, although still not without blushing. Let us go!"

There was another pounding at the door. A very weak one, which was accompanied by a lower-volume insistence.

Rarity glanced towards it. "He should not be outside for so long in this cold at his age. Not after sunset."

"Don't care," Applejack declared. (She was still fuming through 'horn-sticker'.) "He came. He can go home."

Rarity rolled her eyes. "Spike, it's a pity you can't breathe on him and send him along..."

"Sets him on fire," Applejack noted. "Which sounds like it would do the trick."

This was ignored. "Perhaps if you started a small blaze for him, just to keep him warm while we are gone..."

"By breathin' on him."

"Applejack."

"Horn-sticker... Ah'll give him horn-sticker, the old -- the old -- horn-sticker...!"

The party had been -- strange.

Oh, it had been a fine party, for that portion Twilight had been able to attend. And Ratchette was good company, even if she tended to curl up under social pressure to be outgoing and charming and -- well, if there had been a loft, the pegasus would have retreated to it three minutes in. But Twilight, in the presence of a winged echo, had done her best: reassured the mare, been at her side through chancy moments and, when she'd gotten a moment, quietly asked Pinkie to keep things at low pitch for the evening. The baker had turned down the music, subtly approached the rest of the guests, and things had become more comfortable for the young mechanic thereafter. She'd been starting to mix when Twilight's next appointment came due, and a few shy smiles had made their way around the tables.

That, at least, had been normal. Pinkie (who hadn't been outside for a while: cold, work, and Party) did occasionally realize when a party had to be tailored towards the guest of honor in a way which didn't fit the standard shindig, although she still had the occasional bad habit of insisting that One Fling Fits All. And when the party started to work, it had continued to do so -- but...

...ponies had been thrown out.

Two of the late arrivals had been Twilight's escort clients from earlier in the day: the only pair she'd taken on. They had entered grumbling, seen her -- and then immediately swerved into shouting. Most of it had centered around a demand for money and since Pinkie hadn't turned down the music just yet, Twilight hadn't been able to make out the rest. There hadn't been time: Pinkie had a strict No Fighting rule at her parties and since the earth pony was considerably stronger than both maddened unicorns... well, it had only taken one shove each, plus a little more time to get the imprint of their hindquarters out of the wall. And Twilight hadn't understood their issue. She'd taken them on, dropped them off, and moved on to the next. The same as with everypony else.

Other ponies had -- looked at her. Some of those expressions had been strange ones. Evaluations. Yes, several had congratulated her, said they never would have expected this new business from her (and everypony in town knew she could teleport!), but they were glad to see her branching out in such a surprising (a known teleporter escorting was surprising?) fashion and hoped it all worked out for her. Some seemed happier for her than she ever would have believed. A few had inquired about appointments: she'd taken some notes and, if things became too intrusive on her empathetic supervision of Rachette, sent them to the library.

Others had snickered behind their hooves. Some had been openly bewildered and unable to express it. And she hadn't been able to follow up on any of it because she'd seen it as her duty to make sure the pony she hoped would be a friend (or at least somepony to talk shop with, intensive talks which nopony else for a gallop around would be able to understand) got through things in one piece, and there had only been six of those odd interactions to begin with...

Some ponies were just ignorant. That was what libraries and lectures were for: fixing them. Imagine, not knowing a teleporter could escort. Still... at least some had been happy for her. And really, snickering because they'd figured out she was broke... well, she'd finally have something to gossip about with Rarity at their next meeting. It felt vaguely like gossip, anyway. Rarity would know.

But she'd had another escort appointment...

She'd agreed to meet the unicorn in question in front of the library, but he'd apparently forgotten about that part: he was waiting across the street. Twilight silently congratulated herself for having memorized an area near the entrance, not to mention having come in outside to begin with, and trotted over to him. "Sir, I'm sorry if I'm running late... my last job went a little past what I thought it would, and there was no working clock... well, it wasn't working after everything finished..." Pinkie's aim had been perfect. The ones from the impacting bodies? Slightly off.

"Just a minute or two," the unicorn stallion assured her, and she felt he would know, especially with a mark of superimposed clocks. Now, what had his name been...? "Don't worry about it. I understand it's your first day, and scheduling can be hard. My needs aren't as urgent as all that. Shall we go?"

"Yes. Your house, right?"

"Where else?"

He might have been surprised by the answer. Twilight had already been to all three of the town's hotels and inns, multiple times. Plus there had been a gazebo, and one pony had wanted to go into the fringe of all places, said that made everything more exciting. But it was a section Twilight had been to before, and a job was a job. Of course, she'd left quickly: the fringe was also the fringe. "All right. If I may make contact?"

He smiled. "Please."

Luckily for this stallion -- what was his name? -- Twilight had an arrival point right in front of his house. The only finishing trot he'd need was up his walkway. "Here we go..."

It was definitely getting easier with practice. The dual slip between felt like it took virtually no effort at all, especially for such a relatively short distance. She could feel her passenger beside her, she knew her safe arrival point was ahead, it was too short a trip for memories to crowd in, she'd have about half an hour to herself after this, just enough time to check on new bookings, see if Spike needed any help with the library duties and then --

Twilight had chosen her arrival points carefully. It was the first rule of teleporting: make sure you have a full understanding of where you're coming in. That it was unoccupied. Empty. Safe. It was the reason for palace gatehouses, those free-standing hollow structures meant to rapidly disburse the throne's own teleporters all over Canterlot -- and beyond. It was why most only went to places they could directly see, or traveled between home and work. But it was winter, the heart of it, cold and bitter and making everypony long for the season to come, and so Twilight had decided that when she couldn't arrange for always empty, practically-always-empty was a workable substitute. Too few ponies about, microscopic odds of anypony walking through an arrival point just as she brought somepony else in. Acceptable risk.

However, there was no way of gauging when somepony was going to pay for their walk to be plowed out while they were at work, with the plow left leaning up out of the remaining snow in such a way as to leave the harness end sitting dead-center in her arrival point...

Solid met solid. Mergence was thankfully impossible. The energy of the arrival picked a random direction and shoved both parties hard, getting them clear. For the first time all day, recoil hit and threw two unicorns through chill air.

It wasn't bad, as recoil went. If it had been Twilight by herself, she might have even landed on her hooves. But there was another pony to account for, and one of the immutable rules of snow plowing is that the stuff has to go somewhere.

They hit the mound, left impressions of their own. Tumbled a short distance down the little slope. Skidded a body length. Stopped.

Twilight became vaguely aware that she was on top of the stallion. Barrel to barrel.

"I... oh... I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to, I didn't think -- I'm sorry, you can have a refund if you want, I... I should have been more careful, sir... sir? Are you okay?" Had he hit harder than she? Been truly wounded?

She was starting to panic now. "Please, please say something..."

The chuckle reached her ears as a total relief. "I'm fine. Just fine. I've read about this. Never expected to be on the receiving end of it, but -- I do know what happened. Don't worry about it."

She propped herself up slightly, found a smile somewhere. "As long as you're okay. And I'm still sorry, truly I am..."

"Don't be," he assured her.

Flakes drifted down, settled into her coat.

"Besides," he added, "this is giving me ideas."

"...ideas?"

"Well... I live in a fairly isolated area. Nopony's lights are on, so nopony's home. And here we are... lying in the snow... together..."

She didn't understand.

His neck arced up. She saw his face. The expression. The pursing of lips...

Twilight's corona ignited, and all Two-Timer had the chance to see was that every last bit of the border was furiously spiking.

They heard the screams before reaching the source.

"I don't -- I don't even know what you think you were doing! I didn't ask -- I didn't invite -- nothing I said or did was about -- not about..."

Lights were coming on now. Some of them were rather distant ones.

"But..." Choked with fear, or perhaps from a too-tight field wrapped around his body. "...but I... hired you..."

"TO ESCORT! I got you home! Sure, there was recoil and I'm sorry about that, I offered you a refund and you tried to take it out in --"

"-- to escort, yes, to... to escort..."

"And I did! You didn't have any -- any right to -- you tried to kiss me, you --"

"...just a kiss..."

"OUT OF NOWHERE! IN THE SNOW!"

The mares raced around the corner and saw it all: the stallion's body suspended within spiking field, Twilight's eyes gone halfway to white, the lashing of her tail and tremble in all four knees...

"Twilight." Applejack, very carefully. "Listen t' me. T' us. Please."

"BUT HE...!"

Another light came on. This one was much closer.

Rarity now. "Did he do anything other than try to kiss you? Anything at all?"

"...NO, BUT... but... I was just... he didn't... I didn't ask him to, I don't even know him, he's not a friend or anything else, not a date, I've never even... he's just an escort client and I --"

"-- put him down." Both together.

"...what?"

Rarity sighed. "If it was just an attempt at a kiss and nothing more... then put him down, Twilight. Please."

Slowly, far too slowly, the bubble lowered itself to the snow. The borders stopped spiking, began to waver.

"I don't understand," Twilight whispered.

"We know," Rarity said. "Oh, thank Celestia for obsessive notetaking with destination recorded..."

"We'll explain it," Applejack gently assured her. "After y'let him go."

The field winked out. The stallion stood shivering in the snow for a moment, body lightly bruised from where he'd been squeezed a little too hard. Raced for his front door, got the locks open, fled inside, and met the pony who had been taking a light nap after being sent home early from a hard day of work, and so had turned off all the lights.

The mares pressed against her, stayed with her as color returned to her eyes, and she permitted it, for she was horribly confused and they were her friends. Having them beside her in such moments was almost all she could ask for and, earlier in her life, more than she had ever dared to dream of.

They stayed there among the drifting flakes for a time. And then they trotted for home.

There had been enough escorting for one day.

"Oh," Twilight said and for a moment, looked as if it was the only word left.

"Yes," Rarity said, at least after she made her fifteenth check of the talk, one which also completely failed to come up with a young dragon sighting. "That is in fact what 'escort' means. For some."

"Oh..."

As warm as the nearby fire, "Ain't no shame, Twi. Y'didn't know. An' other ponies jus' -- well, the way y'wrote the thing, it was kinda... it was easy t'... y'saw."

"Oh." A tremendous mental effort. "I... guess..."

"So you can see where a misunderstanding could arise?"

"But Mr. Flankington..."

"...he's from Manehattan," Applejack pointed out. "An' he's kinda educated, in a lot of ways which don't got nothin' t' do with cookin'. So he knew. Most of the rest didn't."

Some of the misery was leaking back. "Ratchette?"

"It's not always for sex, Twilight. Sometimes a pony simply needs... company. Somepony they can talk to. One who will listen. Even if they were paid to do so. Escorts and psychiatrists have much in common, and I would never venture to say which profession has produced more cures. You would have gone with her regardless, yes? If you had seen her need?"

A tiny nod, along with the ghost of a smile.

"So no harm done," Rarity said. "Not with her. You left several disappointed, and... there was nearly a kiss. But that was all, Twilight. That was the whole of it."

They soaked in the silence and heat alike. Both pressed tighter against her, one on each side, and she allowed it. Let her know they were there, still, forever, and always.

Eventually, "Is the other kind of -- you know -- even legal?"

"An' licensed," Applejack said. "Ponyville had one for a while. Really nice pony. Great talker. Met her a few times at the market. Moved t' Canterlot about two moons before you came in. Ponies been waitin'... well, that's part of why it all happened."

"As I understand it," Rarity explained, "the Princesses both thought it was best -- and safer -- for all concerned if such a profession was above ground. Regulated. With a government office of its own. There is at least one mandated class which I am aware of, and they share that space with the psychiatrists, who have learned to at least pretend they are not offended by their company, at least for those who are not simply jealous, or who do not eventually find a partner for life in their benchmate..."

"Oh." Back to basics.

"Anythin' y'need from us, sugarcube?" Applejack carefully asked. "Anythin' at'tall?"

Twilight nodded. "I need... you to read something. Before I post it. And then I could really use some company when I start going around town. And... a first edition Earnest Young. If either of you have one...?"

She smiled.

"Two out of three," Rarity responded. "No more. And only the first two. Not negotiable."

Applejack nodded. "Ah can help y'out on a second edition, though."

"But that's worthless."

"It is the same content!" Rarity hadn't meant to be quite that loud. "From the same author! With the same knowledge! Is the information within worthless? If so, why would you need it at all?"

"No! It's vital!"

"Then why is it worthless?" Applejack asked. "If Ah paint three apples out of a hundred gold, they're still apples, the color don't help 'em any, and chargin' that much more for the paint jus' puts a bad taste in everypony's mouth."

"Because it's a second edition! Doesn't anypony get that?"

"A second edition," Rarity repeated.

"Yes!"

"That anythin' like the first meanin' of escortin' the one way versus the second of escortin' the other?" Applejack checked.

"...no! Wait... yes...? I don't... wait. What?"

And the argument continued through the printing of the new poster, plus a little beyond.

They were working their way around Ponyville. The original posters had been removed, although they'd come up short by an unaccounted two. New ones had been put up, with the text very carefully explaining what the postgraduate magic student definition of 'escort' was, what Twilight had intended all along, an apology to all concerned, open invitation for any unsatisfied customers to get their bits back, still more apologies and, because it was Twilight, a list of recommended books where ponies could learn all about any kind of escorting they might want to know about, some of which Twilight herself had only discovered minutes before the printing. She hadn't been able to look at anything other than the titles.

A brief pause was made at the post office, where they sent letters to a few Canterlot newspapers (who weren't used to dragon flame) and got a Wanted ad in the classifieds.

They were also knocking on a few doors. Several apologies had been personally delivered. Some ponies said they understood, had wondered all along if that had been the actual message and were just taking a chance on it not being so. The police were just happy nothing horrible had happened. Others were more frustrated. One, whose appointment Twilight had canceled, ultimately stomped off in a tail-lashing huff, and it would be moons before she could bring herself to visit the sugared hay twist concession stand again and look that mare anywhere near her eyes. And a single visit found them arriving just before the stallion sealed his final saddlebag, although not in time to explain things to his spouse -- not that such would have done any good.

There were talks along the way. About words and their meanings, how certain elements within the Equestrian language sometimes found themselves forced to do double and triple duty. There were a few giggles here and there as recent events slowly began the gradual process of turning funny. Advice was given, most of it centering around why it would be a good idea to avoid Mr. Waddle for a while, although two mares found themselves encountering some difficulty with presenting the details.

And eventually, there was another encounter in the snow.

"OW! Stop it, Rainbow -- just stop -- I didn't mean --!"

"DIDN'T MEAN!" Two more kicks landed on the bruised snout. "The TARTARUS you didn't mean it! I gave you the push-off at the bar, Caramel, you've been wanting another chance ever since, and when you saw -- you stupid, pushy, overspending clouded-eyed piece of horse apple smear..."

"But I didn't... I thought your poster was about --"

"Are you trying to say you're stupid? I'll believe that! I'll believe any amount of idiocy when it comes to you!" Three more kicks and a tail-whip. "But how stupid do you have to be before you..."

"Rainbow, I swear, it looked like it said..."

"Well, what do you think 'escort' means?!?"

Author's Note

The concept for this story was partially worked out in the course of a blog post. As such, Howard035, Daedelean, Sind, OddDreams, Brumby_Run, and Nemryn made contributions to its final structure.