The Last Vacation

by Noble Thought

Rating: teen
Tags: Equestria Girls, Sunset Shimmer, Main 7 (EqG), Twilight Sparkle (EqG), Slice of Life, Alternate Universe
Length: 20998

Friends. What does it mean to be friends? Twilight Sparkle wonders just what it was that drew these five girls together, what keeps them together, and where she fits in... if she fits in at all.

It's been a month since Twilight Sparkle, human student, made friends with six strangers and saved Canterlot High from the Sirens. Only, with the danger gone and a semblance of normality restored, she wonders what it is about these girls, so disparate in nature, that makes them such good friends, and what her role is as their friend.

It's not helping that another Twilight Sparkle reunited them first, almost half a year ago, but her friends are determined to show her that she belongs, and that they like her.

Cover art by TIGER-TYPE. Used with permission.

Edited by Minds Eye

Pre-read by Don't Look at my Name Bro, ZOMG, ZodiacSpear, Sholan, Grand_Moff_Pony

Published 2014-12-05 16:40:06 UTC
Last updated 2015-08-19 02:40:34 UTC

Chapter 1: Vacation

Chapter 1

It’s hard to believe that it’s been a month already.

Twilight looked up from her diary to the friends she had made in that month. Four of them were in various stages of packing Applejack’s van. Well, at least one of them was. Rainbow was napping in the back seat while Applejack finished loading the rest of the luggage.

“Hey! Can ya stop jostlin’ the ride?”

“Sure!” A rainbow bolt emblazoned bag sailed over the seat-back. “Just as soon as it’s packed.”

“Oof!” Rainbow jerked upright. “Watch it! I’m nappin’!”

“Yeah, and I’m doin’ all the work.” Another bag thumped in the back. “You could’ve at least loaded your own bags instead of just tossin’ em on the pile!”

“Gimme a break, I just got back from trouncing the Shadowbolts at a game. I’m exhausted.”

Applejack tossed a glance at Twilight and softened the landing of the next bag. “Alright. Jus’ promise me you’ll—” she leaned forward to hold a whispered conversation.

Twilight blushed and leaned back against the front porch pillar, tapping a foot against the concrete. Shadows from the spreading oak in front of the house flickered back and forth in a light, late morning breeze, and the open page of her diary asked her to tell it more.

They’re getting ready for a trip to the beach for Spring Break. It’s also sort of a break from the drama of the last month and a half for them. I still don’t believe half of what happened, despite being involved in the half that made the least sense. Ponies? And Sunset’s one of them?

She’s not coming. She’s got something going on with the sirens or... something. I don’t pretend to understand how that works. Something about reconnecting with others from her homeworld?

Anyway, the girls have been on this kind of trip before, they said, freshman year. They’re still a little fuzzy about what happened sophomore year, but I get the impression none of them are proud of it. And that it has something to do with... me. Somehow.

This is going to be my first time going out with friends to do something. Well, other than study. A present, they said, for helping them out during the whole sirens incident. None of them were able to explain it much. Besides ponies. Princesses? Monsters? I mean, I saw magic. Real magic.

Rainbow Dash poked her head out the side of the van. “Hey, Twi. You gonna write in that book the whole time?”

“Well, no. I’m just not sure what I can—”

“Oh, leave her alone, Rainbow Dash. She’ll do what she wants. This is a vacation to relax, after all.” Rarity patted Twilight’s head lightly. “It may be new to all of you, but I know how good it can feel to just relax and do nothing.”

“And y’all have done nothin’ this whole morning!” Applejack punctuated her statement by tossing Rarity’s last piece of luggage in the back of the van. “I mean, gosh darnit. I’ve done all the packin’.”

“Pinkie Pie and I have been most busy making lunches for all of us, for your information.” Rarity’s hand strayed down to pat Twilight’s cheek. The close contact felt odd, but Twilight forced herself to stay still—it was just something Rarity did. “And Twilight here has been trying to deal with all of us.”

“I know.” Applejack wiped the back of her hand across her forehead, and nodded to Twilight. “I’m just hopin’ you’ll open up to us. I mean, we’re friends’n’all, right? But I keep gettin’ the feeling that you’re not comfortable.” She shot a glance at Rainbow and shrugged. “We like ya, and it’d be a darn shame if we just let it go.”

Rainbow nodded vigorously from the van’s side-door. “Yeah! We want to know more about you!”

“And I like you all, too. And I will.” Twilight looked down at the half-written entry and closed the book. “I promise. I-it’s been a lot to take in. That’s all. I mean, would you believe me if I told you that you all had pony versions of yourselves that—” She looked down again at the book, the cover designed like the embroidery on her vest. “It’s just a lot to take in.”

“Don’t we know it!” Rarity patted Twilight’s cheek again. “I wonder... where is... ah. There she is.” Rarity waved to a yellow bug just turning down the street to Applejack’s ranch house. “Can’t very well go without games now, can we?”

“Of course not! I still don’t understand why you didn’t let me go to buy some games. I would totally have picked the best games!” Pinkie danced around Rarity and Twilight, her arms full of bags of sandwiches, drinks, and chips. “Hi, Fluttershy!” she screamed.

Twilight winced and leaned back. “You know she can’t hear you, right? She’s not even halfway down the street.”

“When Pinkie wants to be heard, she’s heard.” Rarity rubbed at her ear. “Trust me.”

“Spluh. I mean, why would I be shouting if she couldn’t hear me? It wouldn’t make any sense.” Pinkie handed the bags off to Applejack.

All Twilight could do was stare. “But that doesn’t—”

“Hush, dear. Don’t hurt your brain.” Rarity smiled down at her and patted her cheek again. “It’ll only lead to more questions.”

Fluttershy’s bug hummed into place next to the much larger van, and even Rainbow Dash got out to see what games Fluttershy had bought especially for the trip.

“I’ve got the games, girls!” she called out, dragging a large box and two smaller bags out of her back seat.

“Aw yeah! Badminton!” Rainbow shoved the box haphazardly on top of the luggage. “Hey, AJ! You an’ me, tomorrow!”

“You lookin’ for a rematch? You’re on!”

Pinkie took the two smaller bags and rifled through them. A moment later, her grin never faltering, she handed them off to Rarity. “No Twister? Bummer.”

“You always win, Pinkie,” Rarity said, unpacking the bags into the scant space left in the middle row of seats. "Thank you, Fluttershy, for bringing some games we all have a chance of winning.”

“You’re welcome! I’ve always wanted to play Badminton. So much more peaceful than tennis.”

Twilight watched from the front porch steps, uncertainty of her place in this group of friends growing again.

“Ooh, travel chess.” Rarity held up the little box and waved it at Twilight. “You know, I used to play a mean game. I’ll play a few games with you.”

One last glance at her journal, and she shoved it back into her backpack. “Sure! It’ll be fun.”

With the last of the baggage and the snacks for the trip packed, Applejack slammed the doors shut and took out her keys. “All aboard the beach retreat express!”

It’s a lot to take in. There’s another me out there? Who’s a princess? And a pony? It would be hard enough to believe if it was just another me. And yet, there I was. With pony ears, wings, and a tail, singing my heart out for my friends. My friends.

The words on the page felt odd. “My friends,” Twilight whispered, drowned out by the myriad of other noises in the van. Even so, the words felt better when she said them, and brought a smile to her face.

The sound of the tires on pavement, the sound of her friends chatting, and the radio filled her with an unusual sensation. The knowledge that she was going to be spending time with these girls, whom she hardly knew, but was oddly connected to felt... she stared at her page, clicking her pen against her teeth.

Is it happiness? I don’t know if I’ve ever been this happy to be around other people. I don’t have any baseline to gauge it against except Shining Armor and Cadance, and they both let me do my own thing. Most of the time. Does being friends mean giving up some of that freedom? Does it matter if I lose it? Was I happy before? Am I happy now?

“Questions... more questions. None of my textbooks ever said anything about friendship.” With a sigh, Twilight closed the diary again, marking her place with a folded piece of ribbon and tapped her fingers on the binding. Outside her window, the landscape rolled by and mile markers flashed by one after another, counting down to wherever they were going.

Louder, she said: “I never got the chance to ask. Where is the beach house?”

“What’s that?” Applejack risked a glance behind, then snapped her eyes forward again when Rarity slapped her arm.

“She was asking where the beach house is.” Rarity twisted around in the front seat and smiled at Twilight, sandwiched between the door and a bag of snacks in the middle seat. “It’s my parent’s vacation getaway, north of Las Pegasus. A very nice, secluded beach. And the sunsets...” Rarity beamed a smile at her. “They’re the stuff of dreams.”

Pinkie popped her head over the towering bag of snacks. “Rarity’s, like, super rich. And her family’s got bags and bags of money everywhere.”

“Psh-tosh. We are comfortable, Pinkie Pie. My parents just wanted someplace relaxing they could visit any time of the year. It was a good investment.” Rarity sighed. “Was. They’re thinking of selling it.” She slapped Applejack’s arm again. “Watch the road! I would like to get there in one piece.”

“I am watchin’ the road. I’m just surprised to hear your parents would sell the place, is all. Isn’t that where you—” Applejack flinched again. “Would you quit hittin’ me?”

“Girls, please.” Fluttershy, sitting behind Twilight, was barely audible over the other noise.

“You are not watching the road!”

“Am too! Besides, this old jalopy, well, she might not look like much, but she keeps it straight and level. Don’t ya, girl?” Applejack took her hands off the wheel. “See?”

“Applejack!” The van swerved as Rarity grabbed a hold of the wheel.

“Girls!” Fluttershy’s shout cut through the noise of everything else going on, and seemed to even command the road to be quieter. “Please, behave yourselves. Is this how you want our first vacation with Twilight to be remembered?”

“No.”

“Nope.”

“Then please, try not to scare Twilight. I'm sure this is strange enough for her.”

Silence fell for a short stretch of road before Pinkie twisted around in her seat to talk with Rainbow Dash in hushed tones. Well, hushed for Pinkie Pie. Tales of pranks they had played, and pranks they could play came back in snippets and snatches of conversation. Applejack and Rarity struck up a debate about scenery as opposed to memories.

If Twilight’s past experiences with their arguments was anything to go by, it was going to get heated after Applejack got too blunt, and Rarity too hyperbolic. Of them all, Fluttershy seemed the least interested in talking. It was easy to forget that she was there, except for the occasional tap on her arm, followed by the chess game being passed back and forth.

Rarity had gotten frustrated after two games left her trounced inside of two dozen moves. Fluttershy, for all of her quiet, was more thoughtful and played a more timid, if intelligent, game. It was hard to trap her in a gambit, and harder to tell what she was thinking.

Twilight studied the game for a moment, then used a pawn to take Fluttershy’s last knight and passed it back. It would leave Twilight’s bishop exposed to a counter by a rook, but if Fluttershy took the bait...

She shook her head and opened her journal again.

Sometimes, I wonder how close they are as friends. They seem to know so much about each other, but at times they bicker like children. How much time have they had to really bond? Is it just more of a play to try and draw me out? If it is, am I ready?

“Are we there yet?”

“Five more minutes, Pinkie Pie.” Rarity shook her head and snorted.

“Really? Because, it’s five hours to Las Pegasus, and we’re only—”

“She ain’t pullin’ your chain this time, Pinkie.” Applejack pointed at a sign. “We’ll be there in, how long?”

“It’s about twenty miles.”

“That is so not five minutes,” Pinkie grumped, folding her arms over her chest.

The sun was well into its slow descent by the time the van rambled down a winding gravel road. It was less of a road and more of a slope that just happened to lead where they were going. Little had been done to improve it, but that didn’t distract from the view that swept in and out of sight down the long path.

“...and you just know Prim Hemline’s tastes are to die for. This was her ‘Get away from the high life’ vacation home. Obviously, it was the first to go when her fashion line a decade ago was met with less than adoration. And daddy, being the savvy businessman he is, offered to cover her production costs in exchange for some pieces of property. This is the last one he’s kept. For... sentimental reasons.”

“That’s why it’s so surprising they’re willin’ to sell it. This is a piece of your childhood, Rarity.”

“Oh, I-I know.”

The catch in Rarity’s voice tugged Twilight’s attention away from contemplating her diary, and she looked up. “Then why don’t you try to convince them to keep it?”

“Because sometimes, it’s important to move on and grow up. I am growing into a young woman, and the things I enjoyed as a child shouldn’t hold such sway over my decisions.”

A doll at the bottom of her memory chest back home flashed through Twilight's mind. Stitches falling apart, fabric faded, and both glassy eyes long ago replaced by shiny-turned-dull buttons. She tried to imagine giving up her Smarty Pants doll.

She couldn’t. Logic said the doll was old, and well past its prime. So why have I kept it?

“Maybe,” Twilight said, “because you loved it.”

“Loved it? Yes. I suppose I did.” The forlorn note in Rarity’s voice suggested far more than supposition. She stared out the window at the craggy limestone cliff as the house drew closer. “But it is hard to maintain, all the way out here. Shouldn’t I let them sell it before it gets to be too much?”

“Hogwash. If you love it, don’t just let it go.” Applejack reached over to hold Rarity’s hand gently. “Hold onto what you love.”

“It...” The house came into view around the cliff, and Rarity sniffed, squeezing Applejack's hand in return. “You may have a point, Applejack. Even just seeing the old place brings back such happy memories.”

Is that what friendship is? Even though they are, each of them, very different from one another, there’s a certain insight that they have into each other’s lives. They may not see it right away, but they’re willing to put aside their differences for long enough to see value in each other’s views.

The words on the page seemed right, but not whole. The spark that still glimmered in her heart whenever she was with these five girls said there was so much more. But what? With a sigh, she closed the book and slipped it back into her bag.

“But it is getting awful expensive to maintain. Why, just last year, we had to replace the roof after mold caught in the shingles.” Rarity shook her head, and drew her hand away. “I can see why they want to get rid of it.”

“You gotta show em what it means to you.” Applejack glanced back at the four faces looking out through the windshield, and turned back around before Rarity could scold her. “What it means to all of us. Heck, I’d be willing to help out. I may not be able to donate money, but I can fix things up. I’d just need money for supplies. And a bribe for Big Mac.”

“I could paint. Oooh! And party planning. I could raise money like that.”

“I could raise some money to help out, maybe.” Rainbow scrubbed the back of her neck. “I mean, what was I gonna spend my paycheck on, anyway? Shoes?” She shrugged. “It’s not much, but... I suppose I could also help AJ with the work.”

“I could put a donation jar in the vet clinic for it. You know, tips. I don’t think the owner would mind.”

The van fell silent for a moment, an expectant silence.

“I could organize? I mean... and...” What can I even do? Ask my parents for money? “I could also—”

“Well, we will need help getting it all organized,” Rarity said, turning to rest her hand on Twilight’s knee. “It is quite a large undertaking. For such a small house, I mean.” She squeezed gently. “Thank you.”

The van filled with chatter as the noise of the gravel died away, replaced by the hiss of sand and dirt for the last hundred feet. The golden crowned home was getting lost in the gloom of approaching night and the molten gold clouds drifting low over the distant horizon.

The van’s constant, low rumble died away, replaced by the rush and crash of waves on the shore, and the rolling clank of the sliding van doors opening.

“Welcome,” Rarity said, stepping out of the van and sweeping her arms open to the cool night air, “to Casa De Rarity!”

Sand crunched under Twilight’s feet, and her arms prickled with goosebumps in the cool night air. Winter’s chill had not quite departed completely, and a warm breeze off the ocean was sending a bank of fog rolling in already.

“Come on, girls. Let’s get everything inside! You do not want to be caught outside when the fog rolls in.”

Rainbow snuck up behind Rarity and slapped both hands down on her shoulders. “Because it gets spoooky?”

“Eep! Rainbow Dash!”

“Hey, just joking!” Rainbow laughed and slung her duffel over one shoulder and snagged the handle of one of Rarity’s suitcases. “Lighten up. I almost thought you were afraid of the fog.”

“Heavens, no. It’s actually quite beautiful. But think of what the fog will do to my—” Rarity shook her head. “Our hair. Frizzy does not even begin to describe the horrors that await!”

Applejack leaned up close to Twilight, carrying a double armload of bags, including the snacks. “She means she looks like a dog decided to style her hair.”

“Too true, Applejack. Too true. But... there is one place.” Rarity paused to point at one of the horns of the cove, jutting out over the water. “Up there, the fog doesn’t reach, and it’s absolutely the best place to watch the sunset. It’s too late to get to tonight, but maybe tomorrow or... well, we’ll figure something out, I’m sure.”

“I’m sorry, Pinkie, but there’s no TV here, and the only electricity is in the solar batteries for the lights. Other than that...” Rarity pointed at the fireplace. “We have heat, a propane water heater, and we’ve got a campfire already planned for... sometime this week.”

“Bummer! So, no Smack Brawl?”

“Nope. We do have plenty of games, though! Who’s up for some poker?” Rainbow zipped the deck of cards between her hands and flipped up an ace of hearts.

“Not for me, thanks.” Fluttershy flicked a finger against the ace, sending it floating to Rainbow’s lap. “I’ve got no poker face.”

“Aw. Twilight?" Rainbow waved the fan of cards at her. "Poker?”

“Um. Maybe?”

“What about this new game?” Applejack pulled a yellow box out of her bag. “Apples to Apples!”

“I’ve heard of that game," Twilight said. "Shining Armor said he plays it with Cadance and their friends a lot. I’ve always been too busy studying...” Regret soured her stomach, and she smiled ruefully at the colorful artwork on the box. She shifted against the couch, looking down at her hands folded in her lap. “I really haven’t done much with my life, have I?”

“Psh. Don’t talk that way, Twilight.” Rarity patted her knee gently. “You’re still young, and whatever your life was like before, you’re with us now, and we’re going to make up for lost time! Aren’t we, girls?”

Pinkie, laying on the couch, folded her arms around Twilight’s neck and hugged her close. “You betcha!”

“So, Apples to Apples?” Applejack shook the box. “It’s gonna be juicy!

The warmth around her neck, and the casual disregard for her personal space wasn’t odd anymore; it was just something Pinkie did. For Twilight, that familiarity shook off a bit of the anxiety of spending a night not studying.

“So, how do you play?”

“Simple. It’s word association, but funny,” Applejack said while passing around cards to everyone around the table. “See, we take one of these cards,” she said, holding up a card with ‘Funny’ written on it, “and then we all play a card that we think is funny. But you can only play one of those cards in your hand. And someone, I’ll go first, picks what they think is funniest.”

“Is there a winner?” Twilight’s cards held little that was ‘funny’. “I mean, I don’t really have anything—”

“That one!” Pinkie poked the card that said ‘kumquat.’

“But that’s a fruit. It’s not—”

“Trust me, Twilight. I know funny.”

Twilight placed the card.

“Well, Twi, to answer your question: there ain’t exactly a winner. We just kinda play until we get tired of it.” Applejack spent a moment looking over the cards given for funny and giggled. “Kumquat is pretty funny.” She set it aside, and then passed out another card to everyone. “Although, I suppose we could keep score this time.” Her eyes flicked to Rainbow Dash. “As long as we don’t get too competitive.”

“I’m not gonna do anything. This is Apples to Apples, Applejack! There’s not much to be competitive about.”

“You said the same thing about washing cars.” Applejack prodded Rainbow’s shoulder. “You remember how that turned out?”

“Yeah, yeah. I’ll save the competition for tomorrow. Tonight’s for silly fun!”

Nestled against Pinkie’s shoulder, looking over her cards and Pinkie’s at the same time, Twilight’s fears about belonging, and the queasy uncertainty of her future at CHS began to melt away.

But do I belong? With them or at their school?

Twilight sighed. None of the cards in her hand fit the descriptor card, ‘dangerous.’ Pinkie, nibbling on her ear before placing ‘kittens’ for the ‘dangerous’ card, dispelled the thought and its worry.

None of them fit. So what?

“I’ll see your kittens and raise you grass!”

“Good one. Beware the evil grass! It’ll tickle your toes!” Pinkie’s hand poked Twilight’s stomach, making her flinch and giggle.

None of them fit, either. But together...

The spark in her heart grew brighter.

Chapter 2: Housewarming

Chapter 2

The smell of coffee and the sound of a pair of feet whispering across bare flagstones woke Twilight the next morning. It was still dark. Fog brushed up against the windows, hiding the van from sight, but a warm golden glow was drifting slowly down through the fog.

“Hey.” It was Applejack up so early. She shrugged at Twilight’s questioning look. “I’m used to being up this early. Farm, n’all. I’m surprised you’re up, though. Uh, no offense.”

“None taken. I don’t sleep well in strange places.” Despite the softness of the pad under her sleeping bag, she hadn't been able to escape the alien feeling of sleeping so close to the ground. "I've never even been camping before."

“Aw. Sorry t’hear that. But t’ain’t strange when you’ve got friends with ya. You fell asleep right quick after Pinkie started snorin’ in your hair.” Applejack waved her mug at the the pile of pink laying mostly on the couch. “I’m just surprised you tolerated her hangin’ offa you like that last night. That girl’d hug a grizzly until it whimpered.”

“Isn’t that just what Pinkie does? It felt nice, though. I mean, she’s nice. Um.” Heat crept up her neck, hidden by the darkness, and she looked away. She'd only ever seen Shining Armor and Cadance that close before.

Applejack didn’t seem to notice her discomfort. “She does, sometimes. I can’t stand it, though. Her bein’ all clingy like that. I need my space.” She took a sip of coffee, keeping her eyes on Twilight. “Still, I imagine it’s right nice if you ain’t been hugged in a while.”

Twilight looked away, blushing more hotly.

“Sorry. I didn’t mean ta imply—” Applejack coughed, then sipped her coffee, eyes flicking up briefly to, then away from Twilight’s face.

“It’s okay. I don’t get hugged often. Not by my friends.” One look around her, at the four other sleeping bags, and she knew that was a lie. She had been hugged by each of them, almost every day she saw them. “Before, I mean. At Star Swirl.”

Rarity, doing her best to remain still, despite obviously being awake, smiled. Fluttershy, holding tight to a plush animal, curled up around it tighter. Rainbow and Pinkie were still asleep. Pinkie on the couch, an arm dangling down to touch Twilight’s sleeping bag, and Rainbow Dash curled up on the loveseat.

When she looked back at Applejack, the farm girl was watching her quietly, coffee mug lowered. It felt like she was waiting, and Twilight could see no judgement in her open, honest face.

“I said it was a lot to take in, and it is. But the more that I do...” Twilight shook her head. “I didn’t have a lot of friends at the Star Swirl Academy. Not like you all. Just other people I knew. Study buddies.” She shrugged and pushed back the sleeping bag to stand up. “It is nice to be hugged just because someone wants to hug me, and not because they’re family or are congratulating me. It feels nice to belong.”

“I won’t deny that. You want some coffee? Got a pot on the camp stove.” She pointed. “It ain’t hot yet, but it is coffee.”

“I’d love some.” The kitchen table was scarred driftwood, smooth and rough by turns, cut into planks and planed smooth. Twilight ran her fingers over a hollow smoothed by countless waves as she sat down. “What kind?”

“Instant. Black.” Applejack poured her a mug and set the coffee pot back on the hissing burner. “Here you go. So... if ya don't mind me asking, what’re you writing in that journal of  yours?”

“Just... thoughts.” Twilight looked down into the coffee mug and frowned at some of the crystals that hadn’t dissolved yet. “I don’t know what to think about a lot of things. Writing them down helps me think.”

“Apple trees, for me.” Applejack pulled out a chair, and sat next to Twilight.

Outside the bay window on the other side of the table, chalk-white fog drifted lazily in a faint, early morning breeze.

“I’m not sure I understand,” Twilight said.

“I think better when I’m working in the grove. The smell, the heat of the sun. Heck, even in the shade.” Applejack’s eyes closed, and she breathed in deeply, smiling, then let it out in a long, peace filled sigh. “I don’t know what I’d do without the farm.”

“I...” Twilight glanced at her mug, where the crystals were almost all dissolved. “I have my family’s library. It’s quiet, and usually dark. Nobody bothers me very much in there.” She frowned. “It’s like that at SSA, too. Quiet. Nobody bothers you.”

“Sounds lonely.”

She shrugged. “I didn’t think so. When I’ve got my books, I don’t notice.”

Applejack arched an eyebrow, but didn’t say anything.

“Is that wrong?”

“No.” Applejack took a long sip, frowned at the coffee, then took another. “You are who you are, Twilight. If you like quiet, peaceful alone time, that’s fine with me.” She smiled, set the mug down and twisted about in her chair. “Still, it helps to talk things out, too. Sometimes.”

The implicit invitation stuck in Twilight’s throat. She thought of the entries she was less proud of in the beginning of her journal.

Applejack smiled and laid her hand on Twilight’s lightly. “Offer’s there, if you wanna take me up on it.”

The offer being made explicit didn’t help. Twilight nodded, and sipped at the lukewarm coffee to cover her silence, but left her other hand under Applejack’s. The warm, rough hand eased the tightness in her throat the longer it rested, waiting for her to respond.

Twilight turned her hand over and let the warmth soak into her palm. She smiled, twining her fingers through Applejack’s. “I’m not sure I’m ready.” She squeezed gently, then slipped her hand away. “Yet.”

That seemed to be enough for Applejack. She smiled back. “Take your time.”

They sat at the table, staring silently out the window as the sun continued to creep up and the golden light began to filter down into the cove. The mist began to drift away, revealing the beach in golden light and shadow. The van sat in the sand, a hulking grey shadow glittering in the early morning.

“I don’t know if we’ve said this, but we’re glad you came. Seeing her again would have been nice, but... I know in my heart that she couldn’t stay.” Applejack said, breaking the silence as the sun broke over the edge of the cliff. “You can. We can see you every day, without restrictions or worrying that she might get stuck here or...” She sighed. “I mean, we love her. What she did for us was—”

“She showed you what you meant to each other. Rarity said that, when she was fixing up my hair.”

“Yeah, she did do that.” Applejack nodded. “We’ll always be grateful. But...” She shook her head. “She couldn’t stay,” she repeated. “That’s something about friends. Being there for one another.” Her foot brushed against Twilight’s. “You were there for us, even if you didn’t know what you were gettin’ into. I guess we just kinda dragged you into that whole mess with the sirens.”

“I’m not complaining.” Twilight sighed, then shook her head. “I’ve been dying to know, but... what’s she like? Is she like me?”

“No.” Applejack snorted and waved a hand dismissively, making Twilight’s stomach flop. “You might look just like her, sound just like her... but I’m glad you’re not her. You’re more relatable, y’know?”

Twilight’s stomach settled again, and she hid the relief behind her mug. She took a sip of too bitter coffee, and grimaced at the taste. “What do you mean?”

“You’re...” Applejack trailed off, staring into the fog. “I guess it’s a little hard to put a finger on why.” She twisted her lips in a wry smile. “Like now, actually. It’s easier to talk to you. You understand me when I talk about what’s goin’ on.  Cars, trucks, and tractors aren’t a mystery to you, and you don’t look at me funny when I talk about... well, almost anything. Trying to talk to her about anything more modern than a train was like running through prairie dog city.”

“Huh?”

“Well, almost anything.” Applejack laughed.

Should I have understood that?

Silence fell over the table again, interrupted by the growing burbling of the pot on the stove.

“You belong, Twilight.” Applejack’s hand covered her hand again, jerking her out of her thoughts. “I can just feel it. We’re all meant to be together.”

“And her?”

“She... I dunno how to describe it. I mean, aside from talking to her. There was just something in the way she looked at us that I can’t put to words.” Applejack shook her head. “I don’t think I can.” Her eyes unfocused as she looked off into the disappearing fog. Finally, she shrugged and took another sip, glancing at the steaming pot.

“I might be able to.”

Twilight hadn’t heard Fluttershy’s quiet feet padding up behind them.

“Gosh darn it, Fluttershy!” Applejack rasped, choking on a mouthful of coffee inhaled instead of swallowed. “Don’t sneak up on folk like that!”

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to.” Fluttershy backed up, clutching her plush bunny even tighter to her chest.

“No, no.” Applejack pounded her chest with a fist and coughed again, wincing. “Come have a seat.” Applejack kicked out a chair and waved her mug at it. “I’ll get you some coffee, too.”

Fluttershy sat obediently, looking down at her stuffed bunny’s face.

“You were saying?”

“Oh. Um.” Fluttershy stared off into space until Applejack came back and waved a steaming mug under her nose. “Right. I was thinking that Twilight—pony Twilight—always seemed like she was looking over my shoulder when I talked to  her, like she was searching for something. I suppose she was trying to find the pony us.”

Sitting back down, Applejack nodded. “Makes sense, her looking for another ‘us.’ I admit, it woulda been interesting if you two had met. You are like her, in some ways. Different in others. She was a might more open than you, but other than that, it’s kinda freaky how alike you are.”

“I wonder if that means she’s friends with the other us?” Fluttershy gestured with her mug to the sleeping girls. “I mean, I’m pretty sure she is, but I’m sure we’re different in ways that she wasn’t expecting.” She shrugged and ducked behind her mug.

“I thought some of the students at my school were trying to prank me, at first.” Twilight slapped a hand to her forehead. “Those videos of me looking so clutzy. I tried to disprove them, but there was no way they could have been faked. Not the raw footage I found.” She sighed. “My friends...” Were they really my friends? The friends sitting with her showed nothing but concern on their faces. Laughter echoed through her mind, taunting instead of happy. “Well, the other students at SSA teased me about it for a while.”

Silence fell over the table, and a yawning Rarity put a hand gently on her shoulder, then took a mug offered by Applejack with a nod of thanks. “That must have been awful, dear.”

Twilight shook her head. “I was really isolated at that school. I had my books, and my studies. Coming by the school when I did...” I wanted to clear my name. “I wanted to see if she was still there. I wasn’t even going to stop. Just drive by and look. But when I saw all of you standing around, I did.”

“And aren’t we glad you did! That was a little confusing, seeing you drive up in a car instead of appearing through the statue. I mean, after Twilight wrote back saying she was coming... then the book caught fire, we didn’t know what to think.”

“Caught fire?”

Rarity nodded. “Just woosh! Up in flames.” Rarity paused, a finger tapping her chin. “I wonder what caused it to do that.”

I would love to know that, too, Twilight thought. An artifact from another world, from a magical world, would have been a research opportunity beyond anything she’d been able to manage in secret.

“Mysteries and more mysteries. She seemed to drag them around with her.” Rarity shrugged, waving a hand dismissively. “What matters is that you are here, now. And we’re happy you are.”

“I’m happy to be here, too.”

I’m still not sure how the other me fits into this world. If she does at all. No one has seen or heard from her since Sunset Shimmer’s book caught fire. If only I’d had a chance to look at it before it was destroyed, I could have tested some of my hypotheses regarding the strange readings I’ve been getting.

Twilight looked up from her journal to watch Applejack and Rainbow Dash setting up the badminton net.

Rarity, sitting beside her, smiled. “You could go play with them, you know.”

“I’m not really the athletic type.”

“I’m not either, dear, but that’s not going to stop me from playing a game or two.” Rarity adjusted her sun hat again and shifted her shawl over her shoulders as a strong breeze briefly drowned out the rushing hiss and roar of the waves on the shore. “Such an awkward time of year. Too sunny to go without protection, but not warm enough to go without something to keep you that way.”

Twilight shivered in the breeze. “The ocean should be plenty warm. The western oceanic current brings up plenty of water from the tropics.”

“Oh, it is plenty comfortable in the water. The problem comes when we get out.” Rarity nodded to the badminton net, fluttering in a strong breeze coming down from the bluffs. “It used to be that we’d fly kites all day on days like this. Poor Sweetie Belle almost got carried off to sea one year when she held on too stubbornly.” She chuckled.

“Should I have left my swimming suit behind?” Twilight sucked on her lower lip for a moment, then shook her head. “Am I even worrying about the right things?”

“Don’t worry about it, dear. We’ll go swimming tomorrow. Promise.”

Twilight clamped a hand down over her journal, glancing at the mostly empty page. The wind came up again, fluttering the pages. I’m not going to get any writing done at this rate. She stuffed the book back in her bag and lay back to watch Applejack and Rainbow finish setting up the net, albeit somewhat shorter than normal.

Beyond them, Pinkie Pie was racing the waves while Fluttershy stayed just out of them and bent now and again to add a shell to a small basket. Pinkie, being Pinkie, had worn her bathing suit and didn’t seem to be at all bothered by the chill in the air.

“It must be all the sugar...”

“Did you say something?”

“Just wondering.” She pointed at Pinkie. “How does she stay warm?”

“Well, run around as much as she does, and you won’t catch a chill.” Rarity shrugged and waved at them. “Tell me, what did you do for fun at Star Swirl?”

“Read, study, learn new things. There was always something new to learn there. So much that it was hard to run out of things to do.” Most of the memories of the other gifted students she had studied with had never been vivid, but a few stood out. “I don’t think I was normal. Other girls there kept on asking me to come with them to do things. I wonder... should I have?”

“Would you still be you if you had?” Rarity pulled down her sunglasses and peered more closely at Twilight. “Don’t worry so much about the past, Twilight. That was one thing that... other you taught all of us. It didn’t matter what had come between us in the past. All that mattered was what we did with what we had.”

“That’s... very insightful.”

“It still took us six months or more for the lesson to really sink in, mind you. By the time those... sirens started stirring up the school, we had all but fallen apart again. Ironically, it was Sunset that kept us together those first few days, when the school was falling apart and rallying against us.” Rarity pushed her sunglasses back up and lay back down, closing her eyes. “She really helped us to see what we really meant to each other. Again.”

Twilight leaned her head back and shaded her eyes against the sun rising from late morning to noon. “Then what did I really do?” Uncertainty about her place with her friends burbled up, driving away the bliss of a morning spent surrounded by friends who claimed to love her. “Do I really—”

“Stop that. Right now.” Rarity sighed and took off her sunglasses. “You do belong. You’re one of us, Twilight. You are one of our friends, and if there’s anything I’ve learned about the real meaning of friendship since pony you went home, it’s not whether or not we are useful that makes us important to each other.” She tapped the folded glasses against her chest. “Look at me. My best friends wouldn’t know high fashion if it bit them. Does that make me any less a friend to them?”

Twilight’s eyes roved over the beach, looking for an answer. She saw Pinkie plop down next to Fluttershy, and start sorting through the shells. The whistle and thump of rackets started up as Applejack and Rainbow Dash began a game of badminton.

Finally, she shook her head. “I don’t think so.”

“No, it doesn’t.” Rarity let the sound of the surf, wind and their friends fill the air. “Friends don’t have to be useful to each other to be friends. It helps strengthen the bonds if we do things together, but none of us really have a role to play. We just are.” Rarity slid her sunglasses back into place and lay back down. “Because we like each other. Most of the time.”

Twilight sat quietly, letting what Rarity had said sink into the deeper, darker recesses of her mind. She watched Applejack dive after a birdie, miss, and laugh as she got up. Pinkie Pie jumped up with a screech that echoed down the beach, then picked up a crab by the offending pincer.

Fluttershy waved her hands urgently, her words lost to Twilight in the ceaseless rush and crash of the waves. She watched while Pinkie wrestled with the crab, and finally set it down in the water.

Ribbons of light danced and faded between all of them, grew stronger, then melted away.

“I can see it, sometimes,” she murmured. Focusing on the spark in her heart, the streamers grew stronger. It was like their magic, a rainbow of light that had connected them together. Even the longer streamer leading away to the east, Sunset Shimmer, was there. The vision of rainbows faded away as a puffy cloud drifted lazily, briefly across the sun. “Magic.”

“Did you say something?”

Down near the ocean, Fluttershy looked up and cocked her head. She glanced back at Twilight, and waved.

“Just thinking.” Twilight waved back, closed her eyes, and let the sunlight streaming down, along with the spark in her heart, ease some of the worry.

Wet sand squelched under Twilight’s sandals as the wave retreated, leaving behind the cool tingle of saltwater on her skin. Ahead, the cliffside rose up off the beach like a wall of white and dingy brown. Trees clung desperately to the craggy face, their leaves swaying in the wind that continued to sweep down fitfully from the bluffs.

“This really is a beautiful place. Isolated, calm.” Fluttershy smiled into the wind and spread her arms out wide. “It’s perfect.”

“It is, isn’t it?” The feeling of peace wasn’t lost on Twilight. Without cars, city noise or even the subtler hum of electricity, something in her that had been unwinding since she arrived uncoiled that much more. Even the absence of worry about homework or school, or anything at all to worry about immediately had become more palpable in the last few hours. “I don’t think I’ve ever felt so relaxed. It feels weird.”

“Being relaxed?”

“Yeah. Everything that I should be worrying about feels like it doesn’t belong here.” She waved her hand at the cove, and glanced over her shoulder at the four girls playing badminton closer to the beach house. “Except none of the things that I used to worry about apply anymore. Not really. CHS is far more lax than SSA ever was.”

“With homework, you mean?” Fluttershy paused a moment to bend and pick up a seashell half-buried in the sand. “But there’s so much more going on at CHS. The Fall Formal, the battle of the bands... the Spring Fling is coming back around again, too.”

“Those are social things. SSA had those, I guess, but...” Twilight shook her head and fell quiet. Days spent isolated in the library while, outside the thick double doors, the sound of revelry and her fellow students having fun filtered through her mind. Her only companions had been books, and her only friends had been her brother and his girlfriend. “They were never something that I worried about.”

Fluttershy peeked at Twilight from under her hair, then reached out to settle her hand on Twilight’s shoulder. “You don’t need to worry about them, you know. Just enjoy them.”

“But Pinkie Pie and Rarity—”

“Volunteer their time. We all did when other you was here. We worried, yes, when it seemed like she wouldn’t get home, but we also had fun.”

“And the Battle of the Bands? There was a lot of—”

“Twilight...” Fluttershy’s hand tightened on her shoulder. “Stop.”

Her back tensed under the touch. There’s the house, too. There’s so much to organize, and after Rarity’s tour this morning, I think we’re just scratching the surface with what needs to be—

“Let it go. Just relax.” Fluttershy stepped behind Twilight and rested both hands on her shoulders, pulling her to a stop.

Shaking her head, Twilight smiled ruefully. “I’m not sure I know how.”

Fluttershy stepped closer and pulled her into a light embrace. “That’s why we’re here.”

Chapter 3: Friendship Research

Chapter 3

Earlier today, the lack of stress really got to me. How odd is that? A lack of stress causing stress. Can I really not just let go? Do I need something to worry about?

Twilight tapped her pen against the page and sighed.

All I have right now are questions. How do I fit in? How do I relax? Can I relax?

“More questions.” And none of them had answers she could think of. “Why?” She snorted and closed the journal. Worrying about it isn’t going to help me understand it. All around her, her friends were enjoying the idle time after the sun had gone down while a fire crackled cheerfully in the fireplace. A long day of enjoying the sun, playing games, and walking the beachfront had been wonderful.

Of course, it wouldn’t have been complete without Applejack and Rainbow Dash daring each other to try the water and stand the chill wind. At least until Rarity called them out on their tomfoolery and called an end to the day’s fun.

Upstairs, she could hear Applejack running the shower in fits and spurts to conserve the propane that gave them hot water. In the common area, Rainbow Dash, hair still dripping from her shower, and Fluttershy were playing a game of Go Fish while Rarity and Pinkie Pie were talking about the Spring Fling.

And here I am, worrying about stress.

“‘Jungle Fever?’ Pinkie Pie, have you ever even been to a jungle?”

“Depends. Does Applejack’s back forty count?”

“That’s a forest.” Rarity bopped Pinkie lightly on the shoulder with her pen. “I suppose we could have a Forest Faire. You know... medieval dress, formal gowns and noble finery. Knights and maidens, princes and princesses.”

“Oooh! What about pony princesses?” Pinkie’s eyes flicked to Twilight, watching them from the kitchen table. “Or, well, another one.”

“Well, maybe. I don’t think she’s going to be able to make it, though.” Rarity shot a glance over her shoulder. “Would you like to join us, Twilight? We’re trying to decide on a theme for the Spring Fling.”

“It sounds like you have a good choice already. I’m not really a history buff, you know. I’m a scientist, at heart.”

“You know, I don’t think CHS has ever had a science themed dance before, but we could do a science theme.” Rarity turned over another page in her notebook. “Why don’t you come over here and we can talk science.”

The notebook under her hand, the one she had filled with speculation and unscientific thoughts on magic, itched at her mind. Heat blossomed in her cheeks. Fears over her mentors and peers finding out about her secret studies wormed their way forward, taunting her with imaginary laughter.

Rarity’s eyes, meeting hers, stayed steady even as Twilight’s cheeks must have been turning red.

Why did I want to study it in the first place? The diary, a safe place where she could be frank and honest and not worry about what others thought, might have the answer somewhere amid the scribbles, formulae and diagrams. She opened it again and stared at the first page.

“Oh, come over here, Twilight. We’ve only got a few days before we have to get back to the same-old-same-old back at school.”

“It’s the same for you, maybe... but I’m still new. I’m just worried that—”

“Vacation, darling. Worry later, come tell us about laboratories, lab coats, and mad scientists.”

“You do know that Halloween is over, right?” Twilight bit her lip as soon as the sarcastic comment left her mouth, and looked at her notebook again, then pushed it away. “Sorry.”

“Don’t be.” Rarity jerked a thumb at Rainbow Dash. “She’ll give you a run for your money where snark is concerned.”

Rainbow looked up, smirked, and nodded. “You’re not so shabby yourself, Rares.”

“I do try to keep my tongue civil, Rainbow Dash. Not that there aren’t times a good bit of wit is appropriate.” Rarity turned her attention back to Twilight. “So, tell us, what gets you in a tizzy when you’re doing experiments?”

Magic. Twilight stuffed the thought far into the back of her mind. “Actually... Star Swirl was a great scientist, you know. I like your idea of something medieval, Rarity, and Star Swirl is widely credited with the beginning of the Enlightenment Era. We could...” Twilight shrugged. Not many other people shared her fascination with the ancient astronomer. “It’s a silly idea.”

“Not at all! Come, come! Tell us all about Star Swirl.”

It’s strange, relying on intuition and feelings to guide my research. But if it hadn’t been for those intuitions, I wouldn’t have discovered, well, magic. Add to that the doppelganger in those videos, and it was more than enough to cast suspicion on that school, CHS. So why do I keep relying on supposition and intuition to make discoveries? I can’t even repeat half of the experiments.

Twilight tapped her finger on the old entry, near the very front of her journal. Formulae and diagrams covered the preceding pages, growing sparser and sparser the closer to the present day she got. None of her calculations or readings from the cobbled together magitometer seemed to fit anything she experienced later.

She flipped towards the present, going over each page quick enough to only glimpse the hackneyed theories and embarrassingly unscientific ramblings about magic. It wasn’t until she got to her journal entry the day after she had met her friends that she began to understand what it was that drove the feelings in her heart.

“I was lonely,” she whispered.

“I know that feeling,” Fluttershy said from the towel next to her. “I was lonely at Cloudsdale Elementary until Rainbow Dash stood up for me.”

“I had my brother, though. And my parents. And my foalsitter, too. I shouldn’t have been lonely. I had other people who cared for me in my life.”

“So did I. That didn’t stop me from feeling lonely at school, where none of those other people were.”

“That’s... but I had my books! I had my studies and my teachers. I had lots to do to keep my mind occupied.” Until you found something else. Twilight flipped back a page to the still photo of the six girls clustered up on the brightly lit dance floor.

“Oh? Then why did you feel lonely?” Fluttershy placed another iridescent shell open-side up on her towel and sifted through the others collected in the hem of her skirt. “You must have been lonely for a reason.”

“I... don’t know.”

Fluttershy smiled. “It is a difficult question.” She picked up a thin, round file and began rasping a small hole into the rough back of a shell. “Take your time.”

Page after page of notes, and a few more clipped out photographs passed by underneath her fingers. She began to get an impression of what she had been like so long ago: isolated, shy, and going insane—if the ramblings were anything to go by. And the crossed out, scribbled over conspiracy theories.

Those, she skipped over quickly. That had been a dark month for her. Too many internet boards had cock-eyed explanations for the strange goings on at the school, ranging from ‘something in the water’ type theories to ‘alien invasion averted’ theories.

Too many of them found their way into her notebook alongside the musings on magic as another fundamental force of the universe. Too many theories, not enough answers, and the fear of someone discovering her writings. Despite the fear, she found determination in the pages from months ago, a dogged desire to know.

Pages later, she still had no idea why she had been lonely.

Twilight shrugged. “I don’t know. It doesn’t make sense. It’s not like I all of a sudden had something go missing from my life.” She blinked and flipped back to a still photo cropped and taped to a notebook page—her, looking like an idiot with a book in her mouth. Hurriedly, she flipped back to the first photograph. “Maybe I did. But not me.”

“You mean pony Twilight, when she left us.” Fluttershy studied the small hole, puffed on it, then picked up another shell, delicate pink, and looked up at Twilight. “That makes sense. I mean, if we all have a connection to our other selves...” She began rasping at the shell, her lips pursed.

Twilight returned to perusing the notebook, skimming ahead, through theories growing more and more insane by the page, and notes from experiments with light, a busted seismometer, and the discovery of the rainbow of light.

Fluttershy put the pink shell down, and picked out another shell with a prominently iridescent blue lining. “But maybe there’s more. You said something about feeling that way after you saw the videos of us.” She set the file to the shell’s back, then paused. “Didn’t you?”

Twilight flipped backwards again, to the second page and the picture of the six girls. All of them were smiling and hugging one another. It hung in the darkness when she closed her eyes, her fingers splayed out over the photo. “I was...” Another memory bulled its way forward.

Twilight stared at the computer screen, the WhoTube video paused with herface center frame. All around her were five other girls, the blue skinned girl with the blue wings was flying even, with her wingspan spread wide at that perfect moment before a downsweep.

“Am I on drugs? Were those mushrooms in tonight’s pasta... special?” She rewound the video to the beginning and started it over, watching the girls snuggle close again for the photo.

Six other videos, all from different angles, were paused on different tabs of her browser, each one showing the same scene. “It looks so... real.” Even down to the way the wings worked and the way the plumage was arranged. Even down to the minute detail of the ears betraying the moods of the six girls.

They were all happy.

And she was in the center. Happy. Smiling.

Twilight frowned and pressed a hand to the unfamiliar pang in her chest.

The memory passed, as vivid as it was disturbing. The pang was still there, hurting just as much. Her fingers curled into a fist over her heart, as if to hold back the pain.

Fluttershy was staring at her, a hand held out partway. Her eyes flicked to Twilight’s, and she drew back the hand. “Are you okay?”

“I’m...” Twilight looked up from her notebook to where, further down the beach, her other friends were engaged in a furious game of badminton. Applejack and Rarity were facing off against Pinkie Pie and Rainbow Dash. She couldn’t make out the banter over the sound of the waves and wind, but she did hear the laughter that followed each point scored.

They were still happy. The twist in her chest tightened, and she bit back a whimper. She was still...

“I was jealous. You were all so happy, and I was, too. But that wasn’t me in those videos. I wanted to know what that felt like. What could make me smile like that. I’m not jealous anymore. I’m worried, I guess. What if, what if I can’t—” Nothing came after the ‘if.’ Vague fears danced on the tip of her tongue until she sighed and closed her mouth. “Never mind.”

“It’s okay, you know. You’re safe here, and...” Fluttershy brushed her fingers against Twilight’s elbow, then settled on the back of her clenched fist. The warm fingers, dusted with bits of iridescent shell, squeezed gently. “I can imagine what it felt like, standing on the outside and looking in. I used to do that.”

“I didn’t know that.” How much more don’t I know? How much more did she know that I don’t? “I”m sorry.” Twilight leaned back, looking up into the sky.

Fluttershy pulled Twilight’s hand down and cupped it in both of hers. “I’m doing much better now.” She teased open the clenched fingers. “I realized that I was happier being included. Even if it was just a small group of girls that I was friends with, being with them has helped me.”

“But what about her? Isn’t—” Twilight cut herself off, embarrassed.

“Who says we can’t have more than one of you as a friend?” Fluttershy reached down and scooped up the seven shells she’d drilled holes into. “It’s true, she helped us see one another as friends again. But we had become friends all on our own before she arrived.” She held out the shells, and placed them one at a time on Twilight’s palm.

“I heard something of that from Sunset while she was working out just what the sirens were up to.” Twilight was surprised to see the shells were all the colors of the magic they shared. Even the red of Sunset Shimmer. “What’s this for?”

“Friendship bracelets. It was Pinkie’s idea. Something to remember this vacation by. It’s our first with you, after all.”

Twilight let her eyes rove over the beach, to the house and the makeshift badminton court set up with string in the sand. Rarity and Pinkie Pie were sitting by the sidelines while Applejack and Rainbow shot the birdie back and forth in a furious exchange. “I-I just met you all, and I...” She swallowed, looking down at the creamy yellow hands cradling her violet. I love all of you. She swallowed again, this time against a lump growing bigger in her throat. Why?

“It won’t be the last, I’m sure.”

“But I hardly know any of you at all.” Twilight looked away, but didn’t draw her hand back.

“No, I understand. We would like to get to know you, if you’ll let us. And maybe you’ll see us the same way we see you. As a friend.” Fluttershy glanced at the notebook, closed on Twilight’s lap. “We want to hear what you have to say.”

“Wait, wait... a dragon?” Twilight bent to pick up another shell, a tiny thing the shade of Rarity’s hair, and handed it to Fluttershy. “I think you said it before, but... what? Spike is a dragon?”

“Well, so he said.” Fluttershy smiled and bent forward to pick up a faint pink shell laying on the sand. “But I stopped questioning things after he started talking.”

“Spike can talk?” None of the videos had shown her dog, Spike, ever talking. Or, well, pony Twilight’s dog, dragon... whatever. “I suppose I should stop wondering if it was really real, too... I mean, I did have wings, and a... was it a tail?” She pulled a strand of her waist length hair around flipped it back and forth. “I still don’t know why Rarity wants me to wear my hair loose like this. It’s so much neater in a bun. And I don’t get any of it in my face.”

“I think Rarity likes it because, well, it does look really nice on you. I do like the bun, too. You looked more...” Fluttershy ducked behind her curtain of hair. “More like you, I guess. Pony Twilight wore her hair down, too.”

“Should I wear it down?” Twilight gathered her hair up and bundled it up at the nape of her neck, then let it fall.

“You should wear it how you like.” Fluttershy reached up behind her neck and grimaced, then pulled out a pair of elastic bands. Her hair drooped and fell flatter, losing some of the curl at the tip. “If you want, we can make you look like old you again.”

“Maybe.” Twilight touched the proffered hair bands. “What about yours? I love your hair the way it was.”

“I have more back at the house.” Fluttershy shook her head, letting her hair out more. “What’ll it be? Pony Twilight or you?”

“Can we call her something other than ‘Pony Twilight?’ It just sounds weird. Like you’re referring to me, but as a pony. And was she really a pony? I mean really?” Twilight shook her head, trying to ignore the fluttering queasiness in her stomach. “It just sounds so strange. I mean, I’ve ridden ponies as a little girl and while they were smart, they weren’t... people.”

Fluttershy eyed her, face passive. Wind carried the sound of laughter and the whistle and whack of rackets to them as they walked on.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean—” Twilight hesitated, then put a hand on Fluttershy’s shoulder. “I’m not very good at talking to friends.”

“I know what you meant.” The smile returned to Fluttershy’s face. She deftly wrapped her hair into a ponytail and settled back in next to Twilight. “I’m not upset. It’s like my bunny, Angel. He’s smart, but I can’t talk to him like I can other people.”

“Right. That’s what I meant.” Fluttershy’s shoulder was loose under her hand, and warm. The light pink locks of hair brushed lightly back and forth against her wrist. “I mean, is... other Twilight a four legged equine? With wings? Or a bipedal humanoid with wings?”

“You know, I never really questioned that. When a dog talks to you and tells you that everything that one of Pinkie’s hunches suggested is true...” Fluttershy reached up to pull Twilight’s hand off her shoulder, then twined their fingers together.

Twilight blushed hotly, but didn’t let go. Walking hand in hand with her friend felt natural, and the close contact was easing the tension in her shoulders. Thoughts of what others might say flicked through her mind, and she dismissed all of them. Romance novels flicked through her mind, and she coughed. She pushed them away, too.

Fluttershy smiled at her, then continued: “Questioning whether or not the girl you knew as a human is actually a pony is... well, it’s not as important, somehow.”

“And now? Is it important now that I’m here? Because it kind of is, to me. I think.” Twilight stopped and scrubbed her face with her free hand, unwilling to let go with the other. “Isn’t it? I mean, it’s me, but she’s also not me, and she’s your friend, too, and what am I?” What’s important? Is it important? Should I know? “I just don’t know.”

“You’re our friend.” Fluttershy’s grip tightened. “As for her... it bothers you, doesn’t it? Not knowing who she is or what she is. Or even what she means to us?” Fluttershy drew Twilight away from the surf, leading her with a gentle tug. She sat, facing the ocean, and tugged once more. “It’s okay to be bothered by it, you know.”

“Do you still worry about her?” Twilight followed her down awkwardly, unwilling to let go of her hold on Fluttershy’s hand.

“Sometimes. I wish we knew what happened that prevented her from being able to come here, but I feel like I would know if something really bad happened to her.” She squeezed again, lifting their clasped hands. “I just feel like we have a connection. All of us.”

Twilight blushed, loosening her hold. “I’m sorry. I’ve never held hands with anyone before.” Her blush deepened. “Does it bother you?”

“No. Does it bother you?”

Does it bother me? She looked at their hands, her heart thumping. “It’s just that, in the movies—” She swallowed, hard.

“We’re not dating, Twilight. We’re friends. Can’t friends hold hands when they need to feel close?” Fluttershy looked into her eyes, then untwined her fingers. “Friends can, you know. It doesn’t need to mean that we’re in love with each other. It means...” she shrugged. “It means whatever you want it to mean. Just between us.”

Twilight drew in a deep breath, then dropped her hands into her lap. “I know.”

She looked back up the beach to where her other friends were all sitting down after a game. Rainbow Dash and Rarity were sitting together, and Rarity would occasionally point out over the water. Applejack was sitting with Pinkie, looking over something on a towel between them.

When she turned her attention back to Fluttershy, the other girl was watching her closely. “What?”

“Sometimes, it’s hard to remember that you’re not her, even though she hasn’t been around for almost six months. But... you are you, and the more time I spend around you, the easier it gets to see the differences.”

“I thought she was an exact copy, though.” Twilight pushed her feet down against the wet sand, then lifted away to look at the identical impressions her sandals left in the wet sand. “She’s me.”

“No, she’s not you.” Fluttershy leaned forward and pointed at the imprints. “They aren’t the same.” She traced a finger around the edges of the inside of the soles. “Sure, they’re mirror images. but are you your reflection?”

“Only in bad horror movies.” Twilight smiled, trying to put a bit of mirth she didn’t feel behind it.

“Rainbow Dash made me watch that one once.” Fluttershy giggled. “But even in that movie they only look the same.” She dug under the sand and pulled out a twisted, tiny little shell. “Underneath the surface, they’re different.”

Twilight dug under the other imprint, but found only more sand. “It just takes a little more effort to tell them apart.” She flicked the sand off her fingers and leaned back. “I think I understand a little more. But she acts like me.”

“Really? I didn’t think you were prone to carrying books in your mouth.” Fluttershy’s eyebrow rose.

“No, but—”

“Twilight, you’re not her.”

“I know that.” The photograph in her notebook, six girls smiling and hugging for the camera, came back to her mind and touched off a pang in her heart. Why is it so hard for me to accept it?

“Maybe... you saw how close we were in the short time that we knew her.” Fluttershy shook her head and looked up at the sky. Her hand closed over Twilight’s again, fingers stroking her palm gently. “You said you were jealous of her and the closeness we shared. I think you’re trying to find ways to show us that you are her.” She squeezed. “I feel close to you, Twilight.”

“But why? You’ve known me barely a month.”

“Do I need a reason? Sure, it started because I thought you were Twilight.” She tightened her grip. “But the more I, and we, came to know you, the more important you became to us. You... fit.” She shrugged. “It’s like—” She shook her head. “It’s like you were meant to be with us. You. Not her.”

“Meant to be? You mean, like destiny? I don’t believe in that.”

“Not destiny. Not that way.” Fluttershy fell silent again, and sighed. “I’m not explaining it all that well.”

“Try? I want to understand. Please.”

Fluttershy frowned. “Are you—” She nodded to Twilight’s pleading look. “Okay.” She fell silent for long enough that Twilight wasn’t certain she was going to continue. Then, haltingly, she said: “When she left us, and we started to fall apart again, it felt like we were a puzzle that was missing the most important piece. Not even Sunset Shimmer fit that space. Not exactly.”

“Am I just a puzzle piece, then?”

“That’s not what I meant.” Fluttershy frowned, her hold on Twilight’s hand tightening. “I don’t know how to explain it. But...” She nodded to their friends. “You get along with us easily, when you’re not worrying about why you fit in.” She grinned, squeezing Twilight’s hand again. “It’s natural for you, when you let it be.”

“I don’t know why it is. Did she—”

“We don’t want you to try to be her, Twilight.” Fluttershy’s grip on her hand tightened briefly. “We want to get to know who you are and, unlike her, we have time to get to know you properly. Don’t try to rush it.”

Chapter 4: Braid Bonding

Chapter 4

Twilight sat on a round wooden stool, fidgeting with her hair. She bundled it into a bun at the nape of her neck, held it there, and stared at herself. Then she let it down and let it fall wetly to her shoulders.

She stared at her image in the mirror.

She did it again.

Bun.

Flat.

Me.

Her.

She looked away.

Rarity’s bathroom was as opulently, if simply, appointed as the rest of the house. Tile covered almost every surface, dark blue in the center, and fading to white above, and a faint yellow below. It was almost like being on the beach again. Except for the mirror.

The reflection staring back at her looked odd. The mirror was clear, and that was her face staring back at her. But she still found it hard to reconcile the girl reflected in the glass with who she was. She tugged at her hair, pulled it away from her ears, then swept it forward. The girl in the mirror still didn’t look any different than the girl in the photographs.

Bangs. Other Twilight had bangs, too. She frowned at them, then at her long, straight, and still very wet hair. The photograph began to bleed over into the mirror, delicately tufted pony ears replaced her human ones, and wings—

She sighed and slumped forward against the counter, staring at herself staring back at her other self. The photograph faded away, and she was Twilight Sparkle, human girl, again.

“Twilight, dear?” Rarity’s voice came, muffled, through the door. A faint knock tapped at the door a moment later. “Are you doing alright?”

“I’m fine!” she called back.

“You’ve been in there for an hour.”

Has it been that long? “I’m sorry. I didn’t know I was hogging the bathroom.” She paused, looking down at her purple pajamas, decorated only with a single, satin stripe around the chest. “I’ll be out in a sec.”

“No rush,” Rarity called back. “Do you need some help?”

“Yes.” It escaped her mouth before she could think. She sighed. “No.”

“Can I come in?” Rarity jiggled the knob.

Twilight stood and went to open the door. She paused, hand on the lock. “I’m okay, really. I just need some time to…” Lies burbled forth. Go to the bathroom. Wash my hair. Brush my teeth. All things she had already done. “Think,” she finished.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Rarity’s voice sounded concerned.

Twilight could almost see her face: Rarity biting her bottom lip as soon as she’d finished the question, could almost feel her hand through the doorknob. She turned the lock.

“No.” She opened the door.

Rarity stood in the door, bottom lip caught between her teeth. “You’ve been quiet ever since you came back from your walk.” Her eyes flicked, for the briefest of glances, to Twilight’s hand, then back up to her face. “Did… something happen?”

Her hand jerked behind her back before she could stop it. The memory of fingers brushing her palm returned. “N-no. Nothing happened.” Her cheeks felt like they were on fire. Of course Rarity would have been able to see. We weren’t hiding it. She dropped her hand back down, then backed away from the door. “We talked.”

“Good.” Rarity followed her into the bathroom, then closed the door, but didn’t lock it. “Twilight, you don’t have to hide in here. We’re happy to have you join us.”

“I’m not hiding.” She pulled her hair back, then reached for the brush. “I’m waiting for my hair to dry.”

Rarity’s brow arched, and she crossed her arms over her chest.

“I’m sorry.” Twilight backed up and sat on the hard wooden stool in front of the mirror. “I’m worrying again. I’m not very good at vacationing, am I?” She looked aside, locking eyes with herself in the mirror, then looked down at the brush in her lap. Shame coiled around her throat, and her fingers squeaked on the smooth wooden brush handle as she gripped it tighter.

“Twilight…” Rarity’s lips moved, but nothing came out. Finally, she smiled and knelt in front of Twilight, hands resting on the brush. “You know what always made me feel better?”

“Brushing your hair?” Twilight said, lifting a damp strand and flicking it back and forth. She tried to smile, but it fell apart into a frown. Fingers brushed her cheek, then cupped under her chin. She didn’t resist when gentle pressure guided her to look up.

“No.” Rarity paused, lips pursed. “Well, yes. That, too. But what really helps me relax is being pampered.” Gentle fingers loosened her grip on the brush. “Can I do that for you?”

Cadance’s voice popped into her head: “Twily, bedtime!”

She felt her babysitter’s fingers stroking through her hair again. Over and over, gentle and caring. “Oh! You’ve done your forty strokes already?”

“Yes.” She let Rarity take the brush from her. The voice faded, and she took a deep breath, coming back to the present.

Rarity’s blue eyes were locked onto hers. “Twilight?”

For a moment, those eyes flashed violet, and she saw Cadance’s face again. Then it was gone, and Rarity was waiting for her. One hand rested on the brush, the other touching her chin. “I would like that.”

Rarity set the brush on the counter, then stood and stepped around her. “What are you thinking about?” She asked, fingers brushing over Twilight’s cheek and neck to gather up the wet locks.

“Things.” She tensed again, then sighed. “Twilight,” she said, rubbing her temples. The tension left.

“Ah.” Rarity fell quiet, her hands busy teasing and tweaking, brushing and stroking.

Twilight caught a glance of her in the mirror. Rarity’s hands moved with a smooth surety, deftly separating the different colors of her hair and splaying them smoothly along the damp back of her pajamas. After her afternoon with Fluttershy, holding hands and walking along the beach, the attention felt natural.

“I used to do this for Sweetie Belle,” Rarity said in a wistful lilt. “She would complain and complain, and then finally relent and let me brush her hair straight.” She clucked her tongue. “Not that it ever stayed that way. She takes after mother far more than I do.”

Fingers pressed into Twilight’s scalp, sending a shiver through her body. Nails brushed lightly at her hair’s roots over and over again until her toes curled.

“Feels good, doesn’t it?” Rarity said as her fingers were joined by the stiff, plastic-tipped bristles of the brush. The brushing settled into a soothing rhythm.

Twilight nodded.

The stroking motion of the brush and the fingers continued steadily. Crown to nape. Nape and away. Over and over. She let her eyes close, losing herself in the simple, almost sensual bliss.

Rarity hummed quietly over the sound of the brush whisking through smooth, drying locks of hair.

As the tension bled away from her shoulders and back, the tune changed to one reminiscent of one of the songs they’d played just for fun after the battle of the bands was over.

“Shine Like Rainbows?” she asked, opening her eyes and looking at Rarity’s reflection.

“It’s quite catchy, isn’t it?” Rarity smiled. “Thank you for helping us write it.” She paused, brush stalling momentarily. “I’ve been meaning to ask, but where did you learn to sing?”

“My mom. She used to sing for a band when she was younger,” Twilight said. “I tried to sing like her when I was little, and she got me a vocal coach.” She shrugged. “I didn’t sing much after I got older, but it’s not like I could forget the lessons.”

“That would explain a lot.” Rarity tapped the top of her head with the brush. “Still, you have a lovely singing voice. Once you cleared out the cobwebs.” The brush resumed stroking through her hair. “Your hair is as smooth as silk. Do you brush it at night?”

“Sometimes.” Twilight’s thoughts strayed to other nights where someone had helped her brush. “Cadance, my babysitter—” Twilight slapped a hand over her mouth.

Rarity smiled and patted the hand away. “It’s okay, you know. I had one when we I was younger, too. When my parents were off making some business deal in this or that foreign country.” She paused her brushing momentarily. “And then I was the babysitter when Sweetie was old enough to stay home.”

“Cadance… she taught me why I should brush my hair. Exactly forty brushes. Hand over comb to help keep the hair soft, and prevent split ends.” Twilight recited the instructions from memory, repeated over and over after Cadance had showed her. “I looked it up in a book, later, but couldn’t find any evidence to back it up.”

“Not everything has to be backed up with evidence, you know. Sometimes…” Rarity’s hands stalled. The brush fell away, and she sniffled.

“Are you okay?” What do I do? Twilight shifted, then turned to look up at Rarity.

“I don’t know.” Rarity rubbed at her eyes while tears ran in clear rivulets down her cheeks. She flashed a trembling smile, and waved the brush at the bathroom. “No. Just… sometimes you mull something over without really thinking about it and then…” She waved the brush again, then set it down, her hand shaking. “Then it just hits you.”

Understanding struck. The house. She stood and pulled Rarity around in front of the stool with a gentle tug on her wrist. “It’s okay, Rarity. We’ll figure something out, okay?”

Rarity didn’t resist. “Oh, I know. I worry, is all.” She snorted. “And here I am telling you not to worry.” She sniffed again, and sat down, hands folded in her lap. “I should learn to take my own advice.”

Twilight hesitated as she stepped around behind Rarity, fingers resting on the brush. Will she let me?

Rarity sat still, staring down at her hands while tears dripped, slower and slower, to run down the back of her hand.

“I’ve been thinking, too,” Twilight said, fingers closing over the brush’s smooth handle. A moment later, she was slipping her fingers through Rarity’s curled locks, then following it with a smooth downsweep of the brush. The exact train of thought that led to that moment escaped her.

Maybe there wasn’t one. Thoughts popped in and out of her mind, unheeded. Worries drifted away on the whisper of the brush as silk flowed through her fingers.

The tears slowed to a stop, and Rarity sat up straighter. “I’m sorry. This house, the memories…”

“It will work out, in the end,” Twilight said, pausing to cup Rarity’s cheek lightly.

“I know it will. Somehow.” Rarity rubbed her cheek against the hand and looked up. “Friends,” Rarity sang in a whisper, “you are in my life.”

“And you can count on me to be there by your side,” Twilight sang back, her voice low and cracking at the end. She dropped the brush on the counter, and leaned forward to wrap Rarity in a tight hug. “I promise.”

“There y’all are.” Applejack’s smile greeted Twilight as she and Rarity started down the stairs. “We was wonderin’ what happened.”

“I had a…” Twilight trailed off, worries sprouting again, her hand clutching a strand of hair. She took a deep breath, gave herself a mental shake, and forced her attention to the stairs.

Halfway down, she looked up to see her friends, concern written in their faces, staring up at her. For me. An hour in the bathroom. An hour trying to decide who she was. Her eyes flicked to Fluttershy, who smiled brightly at her. She flipped her hair back. “I had to... think about something.”

Her friends traded more concerned looks with each other.

Twilight’s cheeks burned. Do they all know why I’ve been... weird?

“And she helped me to see what this house means,” Rarity said. She reached back to take Twilight’s hand, then continued, voice tighter: “To me, and to all of us. Th-this isn’t just a vacation house that’s difficult to keep up. This is my childhood.” Her other hand slapped the railing. “This is our retreat.” She drew Twilight down a few steps, and wrapped an arm around her waist. “We are going to save this house.” Her confident stance faltered, but she lifted her chin. “I don’t know how yet, but we’re going to do it. This will not be our last vacation here.”

“I’ll admit, I was gettin’ kinda worried. I mean, you did kinda just drop that on us.” Applejack peered at her cards, frowned, and folded. “Then nothin’ happened for a couple days. We just kinda... had fun.” She rubbed the back of her neck, looking uncomfortable.

“Nothing wrong with having fun.” Pinkie grinned and laid out a straight flush, and gathered up the winnings: a bag of chips and two sodas. “So where do we start?” She popped the tab on a soda and sucked hurriedly at the foam bubbling up. “Gah!”

Rarity shook her head. “I don’t know. This isn’t like everything else we’ve faced together, is it? No monsters, no villains, just this house, and us.” She started down the stairs again, one hand trailing along the smooth, warmly accented wooden railing. “I don’t even know where to start, really.”

“We start with a plan.” A plan to... do what, exactly? Twilight frowned, then followed Rarity down, letting her hand drop to her side again. Do research. “We need to know what we’re getting into, first. Then we can make a real plan. Rarity, you said the maintenance was the most expensive part, right?”

Rarity gave a hesitant nod, frowning. “I don’t know the exact expenses, but that is one of the things my parents are keen on reducing. I... admit that I don’t know much about my parent’s finances. They’re careful not to talk about them until they think we’re asleep.”

“Makes sense. I wouldn’t want Apple Bloom to worry about the farm,” Applejack said, and tossed a fistful of paper towels to Pinkie, still struggling to keep up with the less vigorously foaming can. “Wouldn’t be as regular as patching up a barn, I’d think.” She glanced around at the sumptuous interior, then up at the vaulted ceiling. “‘Course, barns aren’t so fancy. Or remote.”

“True.” Rarity tipped her head to the side, then looked back up to where Twilight stood, hesitant, a few steps above her. “I never did finish with your hair,” Rarity said, catching Twilight’s hand again. “Come on down, and I’ll fix it up however you want.”

Fluttershy’s smile grew wider, and she winked at Twilight. “So, how are you going to fix your hair?”

“Um.” Me. Her. She tried to shake the conundrum from her head, but ‘bun’ stuck at the tip of her tongue, tempting her with the utilitarian simplicity of it. Old me. “B-braid.” She swallowed, and repeated in a calmer voice: “I would like a braid.”

Rarity didn’t even bat an eye. “You know, I think you would look wonderful with a simple braid. You’ve definitely got the length for it.” Her smile grew. “Let’s have a seat. This is going to take a while.”

Fluttershy reached over a photobook sitting between her and Rainbow Dash, and prodded the other girl. “You too, Rainbow.”

Rainbow sputtered. “What? Me? With fru-fru braids?”

Twilight looked down at the book as she followed Rarity past. The pages were filled with pictures of them together: at the Battle of the Bands and, later, at the encore performance on the stage in front of the entire school. Another later photo showed all seven of them lined up and singing the simple harmony of Shine Like Rainbows. Twilight’s heart swelled as the memory of the song, of singing something she’d help to write, set the spark alight.

Sunset Shimmer was there in the center with Twilight at her side, sharing the microphone. It had been a new, amazing experience, sharing like that. I wish she had come with us.

“Not fru-fru,” Fluttershy said softly, bringing Twilight back to the present. “I promise.”

“But...” Rainbow bundled her hair up in one smooth motion and snapped it into a ponytail, securing it with the band around her wrist. “I like it like this. Easy to get ready for a game. Fast, too. See?”

“Please? I promise it’s for a good reason.” Fluttershy’s eyes flicked up to Twilight and then back, eyebrows arching pointedly. When Rainbow didn’t respond, she reached up to tug the elastic band free.

Rainbow didn’t try to stop her, and only quirked an eyebrow.

Fluttershy leaned back after a moment, slipping the rainbow band around her wrist. “I’ll bake some of your favorite double apple crisper cookies!” Fluttershy winked up at Twilight as she passed, smile growing brighter.

Twilight blushed, averting her eyes, and let herself be guided to sit at the coffee table while Rarity settled in behind her.

“Fine,” Rainbow said, rolling her eyes while a smile betrayed the false grump in her voice. “I’ll let you braid my hair.” She closed the book and scooted up to the table next to Twilight. “So, you got a plan?”

Twilight looked around at her friends. “Maybe. It all depends on what we can contribute.” She leaned back at Rarity’s light tug. “And what Rarity’s parents are willing to continue doing.” That’s the sticking point. We need to know more. She pushed away the sour thought and tapped a finger on the table. “We can’t do this all on our own. Not unless they’re willing to help.”

Fluttershy looked up from separating out Rainbow’s varicolored hair into strands. “What if they don’t want to?”

“They might be willing,” Rarity said. Her fingers never stopped moving, straightening and smoothing down Twilight’s hair. “They have kept it so far. I just heard them talking one night while doing homework. You know, that big project we had due for Mrs. Harshwhinny’s history class? It didn’t get too heated, and I admit I didn’t hear much, but they were talking about ‘leaning up’ their finances.” She frowned. “The house came up.”

“That could mean anything, though,” Twilight said. “I wouldn’t jump straight to assuming that they were going to sell it.”

“He was definitely in full ‘we need to save more money’ mode. College is coming up for me, and my parents are insistent that I not go into debt to pay for it.” Rarity shook her head, and tugged firmly on a one of the strands. “This property was one of the things dad mentioned as a ‘legacy’ item. He didn’t sound happy about it.”

“Well, shoot. I don’t think you’ve got anything to worry about. When Granny Smith goes on about legacy, it’s always about stuff that’s stayed in the family. Usually stories, though.” Applejack frowned at her cards, drew a new one, and blinked. “Huh. It could be estate planning, too.” She frowned, glancing between her cards and Pinkie. “Granny said ma and pa left a good legacy for us. Could be that?”

The room was quiet for a moment. The reminder of Applejack’s parent’s deaths settled like a pall around the table, along with the insinuation about Rarity’s.

Her fingers stalled, trembling, on Twilight’s back.

“That’s not what I meant, Rares!” Applejack drummed a finger against her forehead, frowning. “How do I put this? You said your dad was a savvy business type, and this is the kinda thing he’d make sure was set straight long before it’s needed. Sure, it’s hard to think like that, but I’m sure he’s just makin’ sure if the worst does happen, y’all are taken care of.”

“That’s a good point,” Rarity said. Her fingers stayed still. “It would explain why they were talking about it so late at night.”

“Right,” Twilight said, patting Rarity’s knee. “Maybe it’s just making sure you’ve got something. A legacy.”

Rarity hummed softly in reply, but didn’t say anything.

Quiet fell around the table. Rarity’s fingers started moving again: pulling, tweaking and weaving back and forth along a braid that was getting longer and heavier against Twilight’s neck.

It felt good, letting Rarity pamper her hair. She looked around at her friends. Rainbow, tongue clenched between her teeth while she tapped and swiped at a game on her phone, a triumphant grin spreading the more furiously she tapped at the screen. Fluttershy, humming quietly along with Rarity while her fingers danced back and forth over Rainbow’s back, eyes lidded; she was smiling, too.

Applejack stared hard at Pinkie, her cards held close to her chest, but a smile played across her lips—a cocky twist curling them upwards. Pinkie stared over her cards, giggling and tapping them against lips curved into a devious grin.

Her friends were all smiling.

Twilight touched her face lightly; she was smiling, too. She was having fun doing something with her friends. “Don’t worry about it now. We’re here to enjoy the time off, right? This is a vacation.”

“You’re right,” Rarity said. “You are absolutely right, Twilight. This is a vacation.”

“And vacations are for having fun with friends,” Pinkie said, and laid out her hand.

Applejack smirked, laid out her cards, and claimed the pot. “That’s right! No more worryin’. Heck, even if we lose this place, we’ll still have the memories, right?”

“Aw come on!” Rainbow cried, holding her phone up, the screen dark. No matter how hard she waved it, the screen stayed dark. “Stupid battery!”

Behind her, Fluttershy coughed, and tweaked Rainbow’s almost completed braid.

“Oh, um…” The phone got set on the table, dark screen facing up. She tapped it, eyes flicking side to side. “Yeah.” She looked over her shoulder at the gathering gloom spreading across the beach and the badminton net. “Fun.”

“I’m having fun.” Fluttershy tugged the braid one final time, then slipped the elastic tie from her wrist and tied it off. “You should have brought some books, instead of just your phone. Rarity said there wasn’t any cell reception here. Or chargers.”

“Psh. Readin’s for—” Rainbow caught herself, glancing at Twilight, and stammered: “Ah… heh. Sorry.”

“Rainbow, I’m surprised at you. I would have thought you’d be a fan of action-packed books. Why, I do so love a stirring romance,” Rarity said, clucking her tongue. She paused to wrap the end of Twilight’s new braid in a tight elastic band. “All done!”

“You know, I brought a few books,” Twilight said, kicking a foot against her backpack. “I could lend you one.”

“Uh, thanks, Twi, but no thanks. I never could get into that whole reading for fun thing.” She reached up and twitched the tight bundle of her hair back and forth. Six streaks of color wound down in a tight, intricate pattern from nape to below her shoulder. “That’s pretty cool, ‘Shy. Thanks.”

“You’re welcome!”

“You should wear it in a braid more often, Rainbow. It looks neato,” Pinkie said, leaning over to pluck at the braid. “Like, what is it you said? Twenty—”

“Pinkie, that was just the slogan for the band. It’s not something I’d say every day.” Rainbow rolled her eyes, and flicked the bristly end of her braid against the other girl’s nose. “It is pretty cool, though.”

“Twenty percent cooler?” Twilight asked, a mischievous curl tweaking her smile.

“Ugh. Fine. Yes. The braid is ‘twenty percent cooler.’” Rainbow laughed, shaking her head.

The sun had yet to rise above the wall of the cliffs, but a golden glimmer was spreading through the branches of a tree high up on the bluff, signalling the start of morning. All around Twilight, her friends still slept. In sleeping bags laid out atop padded mats or curled up on one of the two couches.

Twilight fingered her braid, tucked over her shoulder and under her chin. It felt odd, and the thick braid was far shorter than her hair’s usual length. She glanced at Rainbow, sleeping on the loveseat at her back, and touched the other girl’s braid lightly.

She sleeps pretty deeply, Twilight thought as her fingers traced the blue streak through a tight spiral. Rainbow didn’t wake up, didn’t even move except to breathe slow and steadily.

And here I am, writing in my journal. I don’t know what to think, anymore. Was I really trying to act like the Twilight they first befriended? Was I acting that way last night? Was I trying to do things I would do? Or was I doing things I think she would do?

The night before had been a wonderful respite from the worry. Even having started as rocky as it had, a poker game had started up. The bets had been paid in premium snack foods, s’mores, and soda.

Twilight stared at the journal in the dim, flickering light of the dying fire and then at the fireplace. The remains of the essentials of making s’mores lay carefully repackaged and organized on the bricks.

Ghost stories had followed, and a night of listening to her friends one-upping each other with scarier and scarier stories had finally culminated in Pinkie Pie telling them all about the mad cupcake maker of 23 Baker Street.

I don’t think my story, about the librarian who stole memories with her books, went over very well. It wasn’t original. Not like Pinkie’s story. It was something my babysitter told me when we did something like this. Should I have tried to come up with something on my own? I’m worried that if I do, it’ll look like I’m trying to be heragain. Do the others see it, or only Fluttershy? I certainly didn’t. I just wanted...

Pen tapped against paper. She knew the truth, but it hurt to think that she had so easily tried to cast aside who she was to...

“To be happy?”

Twilight startled and looked up. Rainbow Dash, curled up on the loveseat behind her, was looking over her shoulder with one eye open and braid tucked up under her cheek.

“Rainbow!” Twilight whispered. “You’re supposed to be asleep.”

“Nah. You mumble when you’re thinking really hard, you know,” Rainbow said, keeping her voice low. She yawned, stretched, and draped an arm over Twilight’s shoulder.

“I didn’t realize. Sorry.” Closing the notebook after Rainbow must have read most of the last entry seemed pointless. “I…” She stared at the words, her cheeks burning.

“Eh, don’t worry about it. Least you don’t snore.”

Twilight risked a look over her shoulder.

Rainbow winked at her, and tapped the open book. “I didn’t really notice it either, y’know.” Her finger rested lightly below the drying ink. “Or, maybe I did.” She shrugged, scooting forward, and rested her cheek on Twilight’s shoulder, arm dangling to the floor.

“What do you mean?” The words on the page suggested a reason.Twilight knew her own reasons. Does she see something else? She closed the book on her own thoughts, tossed it on the coffee table. The sharp smack of the book landing on the table made her flinch, but a glance around said her friends were still sleeping off the s’mores and sodas. Not even Applejack was awake yet. I think.

Rainbow’s eyes were closed again when Twilight looked back, and her breathing had settled back down to a sleepy, tired rhythm.

“It’s okay,” Twilight whispered, and lifted a hand to stroke Rainbow’s hair. I’ll figure it out. She lost herself in thought and the soft, sleek hair under her fingers. Up on the cliff, the tree’s golden crown crept farther down the thin trunk.

“I just thought you were trying a little too hard to fit in.”

“Hmm?”

Rainbows hand came up to rest on Twilight’s. “You were doing everything you could to make us happy with you.” She pulled the hand down, squeezed it, and let go. “Makes sense, though, the way you wrote it. I can’t imagine what it musta been like, at first, for you.”

Twilight bit her lip. What should I do? The thought popped into her mind, along with Fluttershy’s insistence: “We want to hear what you have to say.”

“What?” Rainbow’s brow furrowed.

“What should I do?” The words felt right, hearing them aloud.

“Don’t sweat it.” Rainbow swung her legs around and slipped to the floor beside Twilight. “Just try to, uh…” She scratched at the back of her head. “Just be yourself, I guess.”

“But being myself is that. I write… it helps me think.” Twilight leaned forward and rapped a finger against the book. “I don’t know if I can be… comfortable without this.”

“Twi, it’s not about being comfortable all the time. Maybe…” Rainbow shrugged again. “Maybe you just need to try something outside of your comfort zone.”

“I want to, but—”

“Badminton this afternoon. You and me.”

“But I don’t even know how to play!”

“So? You’re better than you think already.” Rainbow flipped her braid. “You got rid of some drag. Aerodynamic is good.”

“Aero... Rainbow, that’s not how it works.”

Rainbow pointed to the journal. “And that is? You don’t know what to think anymore, so stop thinking. Do something.”

“But I don’t know the rules!”

“You picked up soccer pretty quick.” Rainbow’s eyes snapped open. “Uh, nevermind.”

Chapter 5: Badminton Blast

Chapter 5

Learning started early for Twilight.

“No, Twi. Just… no.” Rainbow stared up at her from the foot of the stairs. “You’re going to play sports, not lounge on the beach.”

“What’s wrong with this?” Twilight looked down at her jeans and purple star sweater. “It was cold yesterday.” She looked back at Rainbow, wearing tights that went to her knees, a short blue skirt, and a lightning bolt emblazoned sports bra. She was even barefoot.

“It wasn’t cold. Not once we got going, anyway. It was just breezy. Heck, even Rarity pulled her shawl off after that first game. Girl’s got—”

Rarity’s head snapped up, eyes locking on Rainbow Dash. “Excuse me?”

“—uh, nice hair.”

Rarity smiled, settling down with a browned bagel, slathered with cream cheese, at the coffee table. Her eyes shifted to Twilight. “You do look quite nice, but I do think that Rainbow is right. As uncouth as she tried to say it.”

Twilight plucked at the sweater’s sleeves. “So, what should I wear? I didn’t pack a lot more than things like this.”

Rainbow started up the stairs, sunlight streaming in from the east highlighting the toned, not quite smooth abs. “I’ll help you decide.”

Twilight stared for a moment, then dropped her arms to cover her not quite so flat stomach. “But…”

“Twi, don’t worry. So what if you’ve got a bit of a paunch?” Rainbow reached up and patted her stomach. “It’s cute.” The hand lingered on her stomach, fingers tickling while Rainbow smirked, then clenched tight on the bottom edge of the sweater, and dragged her along as Rainbow reached the balcony.

“H-hey!”

“Come on. Let’s see what we can get you into.” She headed towards the single bedroom that had been repurposed as a dressing room.

“I can dress myself!”

Rainbow shot a glance over her shoulder, and grinned. “Of course you can. Trust me, though. You’ll start overheating and want to take off your sweater.” She smiled at Twilight’s reddening cheeks. “I can guess what you’re wearin’ underneath. Or I can help you pick somethin’ you’ll be comfortable in.”

“But—”

“Let me help, ‘kay? I promise you’ll feel more comfortable if you’re wearing the right clothes.”

Her cheeks flushing darkly, arms crossed over her stomach still, she nodded. “Okay.”

“This?” Twilight asked, staring incredulously in the mirror. She was wearing a short, purple fringed skirt over one of Rarity’s bathing suit bottoms. It was barely decent, and the bright blue sports bra was only slightly better. “Are you sure Rarity is okay with me borrowing her bottom?”

Rainbow snickered and prodded Twilight’s bottom. “I’m not sure I would have put it that way, but she is very generous.”

“Um.” Twilight’s hands fell to brush her hips, then shifted to cover her stomach.

“Can’t believe you didn’t pack a sports bra or skirt.” Rainbow stepped up beside her, considering the both of them in the mirror, fingers tapping her chin. “Still, looks good on ya.”

“I wasn’t exactly thinking about being active.” She tugged the edge of the fringy wrap up higher, only to have Rainbow bat her hands away and resettle the wrap around her waistline.

“Stop that. You look fine.” Rainbow slipped an arm around her waist and patted her soft belly, looking at the both of them in the mirror. “So what if you’ve got a little pudge. It looks good on you. And you’ll be more comfortable like this, without the wrap digging in when you bend over.”

“Also, I do have a little more up top than you, and this feels tight.” Twilight ran a finger under the tight strap on her shoulder. “Can’t I just wear—”

“Nope. Not gonna let you wear that frilly thing. It’s too loose for runnin’ around.” Rainbow shook her head. “Trust me. You’ll thank me when your back doesn’t hurt as much later today.” She grinned at the mirror and prodded Twilight in the side. ‘Sides. You look good. Come on.”

Twilight followed Rainbow back out of the tornado-wrecked bedroom and downstairs to her waiting friends. Not a one of them even looked at her stomach for more than a moment, and no longer than they’d looked at the rest of her.

“Lookin’ good there, sugarcube,” Applejack said, looking up from a breakfast of oatmeal and apple slices. “You plannin’ on joinin’ us for a few games this afternoon?”

“I, um…” Twilight had to make a conscious effort not to cover her exposed stomach. “Yes. Rainbow’s going to teach me how to play.”

“Not just play, Twi. Playing is easy. You and me, we’re gonna win.”

“Do I smell a challenge?” Applejack grinned. “Because that sounds like a challenge.”

“Yeah!” Rainbow dropped her hand to grab Twilight’s, and raised both of them in a triumphant gesture. “Me and Twi, we’re gonna drop you and…”

“Me!” Pinkie Pie shouted. “Oh, pick me!”

“Alright, Pinkie. You and me.” Applejack’s smile broadened as she stirred her cereal. “No offense Twi, but y’all are goin’ down. That first s’moregasbord will be mine!”

“Ours,” Pinkie said, plopping down next to Applejack with a bowl of dry sugar packed cereal. “First two. When the stick isn’t all goopy, just lightly toasted, the chocolate oh-so-gooey, and the whipped cream just starting to drizzle down the sides.” Pinkie licked her lips, staring off into space.

“Don’t forget the caramelized apple slices,” Applejack added, joining Pinkie into staring off into space.

“Why haven’t we had any yet?” Twilight asked, standing behind a chair to hide her stomach. She was almost certain that she had a full belly blush. “If they’re so good—”

Pinkie’s expression of comical horror stopped her.

“You don’t just have s’moregasbords on the first day! Or even the second!” Pinkie tapped a finger on the table. “The apples have to sit and gooey up, or else they won’t be ooey-gooey enough, and that’s what makes it a gasbord and not just a s’more.”

Applejack nodded. “They do taste better with age.”

“Oh.” It made sort of sense, and she looked at Rainbow, who was halfway along the way to drooling. “I’ll do my best.”

“Twi, don’t stand so… tight.” Rainbow, sitting at the edge of the badminton court, flicked a finger at her feet. “You gotta be ready to go after the birdie. You missed that second one because your feet were all out of place.”

Twilight shifted her feet in the sand, staring across the net at Applejack, standing in an orange t-shirt with her swimsuit bottom just visible under the hem. “Like this?” Twilight shifted her feet again, pressing her heels more deeply into the loose, dry, cold sand, and shivered.

“Um.” Rainbow shook her head and scrubbed at her hair with both hands. “Hold on. I think…” She sighed and pushed herself up from where Fluttershy was prodding her and jogged over to stand behind Twilight. “Put your feet almost on top of mine, then bend your knees.”

“Okay. Now what?” Twilight kept her attention on her feet, mostly to ignore the hands resting just above her waist. How Rainbow stayed warm while sitting was a mystery. She was as skimpily dressed as Twilight.

“Little less bend. I don’t want your butt in my lap.”

She could almost feel Rainbow’s smirk, and blushed when her friend’s hands shifted to her hips, and pushed her just slightly forward.

“Well, this isn’t awkward at all.” Twilight covered her mouth as soon as the words slipped from her lips.

Rainbow’s snicker eased her sudden worry. “Don’t worry about it.”

The hands left Twilight’s hips, and she could feel one hovering over her stomach. Her breathing grew shallower, more nervous. The hands never touched, just radiated their warmth.

“Good. Now, show me your racket.” Rainbow stepped back and walked around in front of Twilight.

Images of a tennis match flashed through her mind, remnants of the olympic games from the last summer. She tried to mimic the sure pose of those athletes, only to have Rainbow catch her wrists mid-swing.

“Not quite. This isn’t tennis. One hand, loose wrist.” Rainbow tugged her wrist lightly, then shook her arm until the racket flopped like a fish. “Like that. You don’t want to whack the birdie. Just tap it for now.”

“Okay.” Rainbow’s hands were warm where they touched hers, and sent a shiver through her. Cold crept up her feet from the sand, and an occasional warm breeze from the ocean kept a fresh chill across her chest and bare stomach from the steadier wind coming down from the bluffs.

“Not so tightly.” Rainbow’s hand on her wrist tugged until she let go of the tension. “You want to have your wrist loose.” She nodded across the net to Applejack. “Gently, please.”

“Okay. I’m ready.” Twilight braced herself, only to have Rainbow walk back around push a knee gently into the back of hers. “Right. Loose.”

“Yep.” The warmth against her backside left again, and then Applejack nodded to some signal from Rainbow.

Bop. The shuttlecock sailed over the net in a slow arc and Twilight shifted her racket to meet it.

Bop. The birdie sailed back over the net, to be met gently by Applejack’s racket. A moment later, the hands returned to her hips and forced her side to side.

“Loose, keep loose. Don’t tense up.”

Her eyes stayed on the birdie, but she let herself be settled into a more comfortable stance by Rainbow’s rough direction.

Bop. Back it came, and this time she felt freer with the motion, and sent it back over the net. The hands left again, but the birdie stayed her focus.

Back and forth, slow, gentle. The arc of the parabola made more sense the longer she watched and paid attention to it. She tried shifting the racket slightly, angling the return swipe. Then, after a few back and forths, the wind came up and shifted the birdie’s flight low, into the net.

“Good job, Twilight!” Rarity called out from the arrangement of seashells spread out on the blanket between her and Fluttershy.

“I missed.”

“You aimed the birdie too low,” Rainbow said. She retrieved the game piece and tossed it to Twilight. “The wind will do as it does, and it’s important to remember that. But you’ve got the basics down. Time for a match!”

“I-I don’t think I’m ready for that.” She looked between the birdie and the racket in her hands, then at Rainbow Dash. “I’ve just hit it back and forth a few times. What if I screw up and we lose?”

“It’ll be fine. I’m awesome enough for the both of us!” Rainbow winced, brushing the back of her head. “Um, yeah. You and Pinkie ready, AJ?”

“Ready for the winnings? Heck yeah!” Pinkie licked her lips and leapt up to stand beside Applejack, racket at the ready.

“Ready, Twi?”

She nodded, and tapped the the birdie to Applejack,  who blinked and sent it back to Rainbow.

“Gotta pick up the pace,” Rainbow growled as she sent it sizzling between Pinkie and Applejack.  It came back, faster than Twilight had ever seen it move, sent by Pinkie’s reflexive backhand.

Right at her.

She froze, her racket in the middle of a backswing as she tried to decide what to do. Angle of swing, speed of swing… Underhand or over? Amount of force? She saw a number of parabola curving away from her racket, most of them ending up in the net, some going straight up. She saw, in a brief moment, Applejack or Pinkie Pie sending it back, and the possibilities multiplied.

Meanwhile, the birdie’s fins bled off velocity until it plopped to the ground at her feet.

She stared at it, her breath coming faster and faster. “I can’t do this,” she whispered.

“Hold on, hold on. Time out!” Rainbow’s voice snapped through the silence, bringing Twilight back to the present. “What was that? It came right at you!”

“I…” The racked started to slip from her fingers.

“Rainbow Dash!” Rarity’s voice snapped out like the crack of a whip.

“I’m sorry, geeze.”

Footsteps came closer until Twilight could see blue feet resting next to hers. A hand closed over hers before the racket fell to the ground. “No, no…” Rainbow’s voice got softer. “I’m sorry. I didn’t…” She trailed off. “Look, Twi. Don’t think so much.”

“But we’re going to lose.”

“Stop it.” Rainbow tapped her leg with the racket. “We are not going to lose. Ya wanna know why?”

“Because you’re awesome?”

“Well, yeah.” Rainbow snorted, and lifted Twilight’s chin. “But I’m awesome because my friends are.” She chuckled. “I think I learned that lesson when you tackled me. Or, uh, after.” She grunted and waved away the issue with her racket. “Point is, you can do this, Twilight. Just stop thinking about it.”

“What if I don’t make the right decision? What if I miss? What if I—”

“Agh! Stop that. You’re thinking again! Sports isn’t about thinking. Not like that chess game you an’ Fluttershy passed back and forth. Sports is about doing!”

“But strategy—”

“Is for games like football, soccer. Badminton is different. It’s simple. Don’t let the birdie hit the sand on our side of the net.”

“But—”

“Birdie no sandy, capiche?”

Twilight paused, looking back down at the birdie. She tapped it with her racket. “Don’t let the birdie hit the sand.”

“Yeah! That’s all there is to it.” Rainbow’s hand let go and came up to clap Twilight on the shoulder. “Got it?”

“I think—” She caught herself, smiled, and lifted her racket. “Yes.”

“We can do this!”

“Yes!”

Rainbow picked up the birdie and placed it in her hand. “You can do this,” she said, more quietly, then stepped away.

How should I— She shook her head and whacked the birdie before another thought could pop into her mind.

It came back a moment later, but she didn’t hesitate. She sent it right back with a hefty smack. The feel of the birdie’s impact thrummed up her wrist, and she smiled. It felt good.

Pinkie shot it back up with a slow underhand that Applejack smashed down into the sand before Twilight or Rainbow could react.

“Nice one!” Rainbow hefted the birdie with a wicked grin and walked back to her place.

Two, zip. Twilight shook her head and fought back the urge to brush her hair out of her eyes. Only her bangs, too short to have made it into the braid, obscured her vision. She nodded to Rainbow.

Rainbow’s serve zipped right at Pinkie, who caught it on a reflexive backhand and sent it back in a high arc.

Twilight lost herself in the exchange, her eyes following the birdie and her feet shifting to place her where she needed to be.

Cheering from the sidelines almost distracted her at a critical moment, but she saw the low set before Applejack sent it back and was there to meet it at the net with a quick swipe into the sand.

“Nice one, Twi! Keep it up!”

“Good shot, Twilight!” Rarity called from the sidelines.

Then the game was back on, and from that moment, her focus was the birdie. Her racket met it when it was close to her, sometimes sending it in the wrong direction, but Rainbow was there to catch it and send it in the right place.

She laughed when she scored again, and felt more than just the tingle in her hand when she high-fived Rainbow.

I’m having fun!

The next few points were Rainbow’s, but not without loss. Twilight missed one by a hair as she leapt after it, racket extended, only to land roughly in the sand on her knees and one hand as the birdie’s feather skirt whispered across the rim. But the whisper of something else stirred in her heart. She was grinning, despite the miss.

“Nice try, Twi! Good dive.” Rainbow helped her back up, then served the next.

Her feet moved of their own accord, carrying her to and away from the net, always after the birdie. The sand was no longer cold under her feet, and the air no longer carried a chill. Her braid danced as she did, and before she knew it, sweat was streaming down her forehead.

Both sides were at equal match, trading point for point as the match wore on. They took a break at the five point mark to drink some lemonade Fluttershy had made from powder packets.

“You’re doing good,” Rainbow said, knocking plastic cups with Twilight in a toast. “Told ya you could do it.”

“I guess I can,” Twilight said with a smile, shaking her head and wiping away the sweat. “I never thought it could be so much fun!”

“Yeah? You ready to turn it up a notch?”

“Yes!” A moment later, reason caught up. “What do you mean?”

“Don’t tell me you haven’t felt it.” Rainbow’s hand came up to flick Twilight’s ear. “I saw it, when you dove for that long shot. You were almost ready to go pony.” She shot a glance at Applejack and Pinkie. “So were they,” she added, then jerked a thumb at her chest. “So was I.”

“I got lost in how much fun I was having,” Twilight said, reaching up to brush her human ear. “Was I really about to, um, ‘go pony?’“ She glanced at Rarity and Fluttershy, then at Applejack and Pinkie Pie. “I thought that was only for music.”

“I dunno about that. I mean, sure you started to get the ears, but…” Rainbow shrugged, giving her a sheepish grin. “Don’t think too much about it. Just have fun.”

Just have fun. There was a possibility she might learn something new about the magic, but in order to do so, she couldn’t pay attention to it. But learning is fun!

Another part of her objected: Learning is something youhave always done alone before.

“Uh, earth to Twilight?” Rainbow was staring into her eyes from far too close.

“Gah!”

“You kinda spaced out there for a sec. You doin’ okay?”

“Just… thinking.” Twilight shook her head again and ducked behind her cup to hide the blush.

“Don’t think. Just have fun.” Rainbow slapped her on the shoulder again. “We’re gonna win this! I can just feel it.”

Just feel it. Twilight felt, again, the joy of singing with her friends on the makeshift stage, and the earlier moment when Sunset Shimmer looked to her for help, desperation in her voice. “We need you!”

Her earlier uncertainty had been stripped away. Her friend needed her. And she’d stepped up, the words of the song flowing through the bond connecting them. She’d known the song as well as if she’d written it.

She knew what to do. With her friends by her side…

“Let’s do this.” Twilight downed the last, sugary dregs, crushed the cup, and grabbed her racket again.

“Aw yeah! You’re goin’ down!” Rainbow cried, leaping back into the court.

The game started again, but there was something different. Twilight felt it in her heart as she played, barely paying attention to it. Every laugh ignited a rainbow spark in her vision, every point scored or lost made it grow stronger.

The points didn’t matter. The birdie didn’t matter.

She was having fun. That was all that mattered.

On the sidelines, Rarity and Fluttershy cheered on both sides, their laughter growing brighter, their cheers shimmering in the cool afternoon air.

Banter from her friends shot back and forth, cheerful taunts between close friends. Only her voice was missing, but no banter came to mind.

“Nine, Twilight. Just one more and we win!”

“They’ve got nine, too,” she reminded, her voice strained from laughing and running. Smiling, with the thrill of the game zinging through her, she wiped sweat from her brow again. The dancing rainbow bands connecting her to her friends were almost visible, and she could almost feel their enjoyment as though it were her own.

“Yeah, but we can do it. Come on!”

The game resumed again, the birdie flipping back and forth almost faster than Twilight could follow. Rainbow’s ears flared blue as the match went on and sand flew, wings sprouted from her shoulder blades, but she stayed mostly ground-bound, only using her wings to leap from place to place. On the other side of the net, Pinkie and Applejack laughed as their pony ears flared into existence.

The game went on, none of them pausing to take stock of their ears or longer ponytails. And then she saw Applejack stumble, her racket going low but still catching the birdie.

It would come high, perfect for a downward slam.

“Neighton never knew what hit him!” she cried as the birdie came in. Rainbow’s cheer spurred her on and, as she leapt, she knew she was going to win. Magic flared in her heart, spread through her veins, and an explosion of rainbow power ignited the change. Her wings caught the air and sent her soaring to meet the birdie in midair.

“Yeah! Taste those S’mores!” Rainbow cried as Twilight’s racket met the birdie at the apex of its flight and sent it sizzling into the sand.

“Whoa!” Pinkie stared, mouth dropped open.

Applejack’s mouth hung open, and she slumped back to the ground.

Twilight realized where she was, and why, a moment later. The magic slipped away, ears, wings, and tail disappearing in a flash, and she tumbled the last couple feet to the ground.

“That! Was! Awesome!” Rainbow laughed as she ran to help Twilight back up. “Yeah! Twilight with the magic smackdown!”

“What happened?” Twilight looked up at the hand held out for her. “I thought—”

Rainbow nodded. “Now, you can think.” She laughed again. “Trust you to come up with some nerdy banter.” She slapped Twilight’s shoulder again and drew her away from the court.

“Good game, y’all.” Applejack said, smiling. “I suppose that means you two get first pick of the s’mores tonight, huh?”

“Deal’s a deal!” Rainbow said, nodding. “Bigger question is, who’s gonna make em.”

“Well,” Rarity said, standing up and brushing flecks of shell and sand from her fingers, “considering how messy you were last night, Rainbow, I think it should be Pinkie Pie. Shockingly, she—”

“I’m shocked, Rarity!” Pinkie gasped. “To think that I would make a mess of s’mores!”

“I have seen your kitchen after a baking frenzy, remember?”

“But, s’mores, Rarity! I would never disrespect s’mores.” Pinkie prodded Rarity’s arm. “I would never make a mess of the tastiest of tasties to ever see this side of a campfire. That’d just be rude.”

Twilight plopped down on her towel and laid down, staring up at the bright afternoon sky. Clouds had moved in, light white clouds that nonetheless hid the blue and the sun aside from a faint rainbow nimbus around a bright white disc.

Rainbow sat down next to her and lay back next to her, arms crossed behind her head. “Not bad for your first time, eh?”

“Did I really do that well?” She turned her head to look at Rainbow, raising one hand to shade her eyes from the white brilliance above.

“Eh, you did good. Sorry about that bit at the start.” Rainbow shrugged and reached a hand down to prod Twilight’s bare stomach. “How’d you feel, wearing that?”

Twilight blushed again, but didn’t cover her stomach. “Exposed, at first. I’ve never worn anything but a one-piece before.” She brushed away the prodding hand after a moment. “But you were right. I would have been too hot wearing the sweater and jeans.”

Rainbow arched an eyebrow, and smirked. “Just think about Flash seeing you like this.”

“That jerk?” Twilight rolled her eyes and prodded Rainbow’s belly in return. “Really?”

Rarity sighed loudly. “Rainbow, are you ever going to grow up?”

“Grow up? Psh.” She prodded Twilight’s belly again, adding a tickle. “Never!”

Twilight squirmed away, laughing and squealing, and retaliated by tickling under Rainbow’s arms.

“Whoa! H-hey!” Rainbow squealed and rolled away, laughing. “Oh, it’s on, now!”

“You’ll have to catch me!” Twilight leapt up and dashed off down the beach, Rainbow a few steps behind, shouting and laughing by turns.

As she ran, laughing, the spark in Twilight’s heart glowed brighter.

I’m having fun.

Lunch, a collection of sandwiches and chips along with a pair of sodas, lay settled in Twilight’s stomach, and the sun was still high, though covered in a fluffy blanket of clouds drooping down and threatening to bring rain later.  A cool breeze fluttered the net into a drowsy rustle, and the ocean waves frothed and sighed all along the beach.

On the towel next to her, Fluttershy and Rarity were slowly building a pair of bracelets, using thin jeweler’s wire from Fluttershy’s crafts kit to hold the shells iridescent side out.

Rarity kept up an idle stream of chatter that ebbed and flowed like the waves. “…and then Sunset called Adagio, of all people, a couple weeks ago. It was before we started to plan our trip, so…” Her fingers never stopped moving, twisting and braiding pliable metal into place and through the braided twine of the bracelet. “I don’t really understand why she wanted to spend Spring Break with them instead of us. I mean, it’s not like she owes them anything.” She paused. “Not that she owes us anything, either.”

“She doesn’t,” Twilight said, rolling over to face Rarity. “But—” She shook her head. “It would have been nice to get to know her without worrying about school or other people.”

“It would have been,” Rarity said. A moment later, she plucked up seven shells, one from each of a pile of similar colored shells. “Why don’t you join us and make a bracelet for her?” She held out the handful of shells and waited.

“Oh!” Why didn’t I think of that? “I think she would like that.” Twilight sat up, stretched, and scooted over to sit half-on the large towel. “So…”

“So, you take these shells,” Rarity said, dropping the seven shells with holes already bored through the hinges. “And a bit of wire, and twist, like so,” Rarity continued on, and demonstrated on the bracelet she was working on as she spoke.

Twilight spent a moment watching, then tried to follow suit with her own. She poked the wire through the twisted twine, then through the hole already bored through the shell. The rest of it, whatever Rarity had done to secure the shell to the braided twine, didn’t match. The shell, which should have lain flat, stuck out at an angle and would dig into the wrist.

“Um.”

“You’ve got the wiry twisted backwards,” Pinkie said, plopping onto the towel beside her. She reached out and took the start of the bracelet, deftly untwisting the jeweler’s wire. “It goes like this.”

Twilight watched as Pinkie untwisted the wire, threading it through the hole, then back through the braid and finally wrapped it twice around the flared end of the shell. “So, it holds itself in place.” She flicked the shell once, and it didn’t do anything more than settle back in place.

“Yep!” Pinkie dangled the bracelet in the air and fell back to lay down on the towel. “We made your bracelet already. Who’s this for?”

Twilight plucked it from her fingers gently. “For Sunset, since she couldn’t be here.” She nodded to Rarity,  smiled, and started stringing up the red shell. Thoughts of what she knew about Sunset wove around her mind while she wove the silver wire around the shell.

A brief bit of conversation between Rainbow Dash and Rarity, back in Sugar Cube Corner almost a month and a half ago, came to her.

“Yeah, he used to date Sunset Shimmer, but…”

Rarity nodded. “And then he latched onto other Twilight when she appeared.”

“Why didn’t Sunset get back with Flash Sentry?”

Rarity’s head jerked up. “Why would you ask that?” She swept a hand at the beach. “We’re here to help you forget about that crass oaf.” A moment later, she seemed to realize what she’d said and looked away. “What he said to you…”

“Was a lie,” Twilight finished, reaching out to touch Rarity’s shoulder. “I know that, now.”

“Good!” Pinkie slapped her on the back. “We always knew it was.”

“You did. Thank you for showing me.”

Chapter 6: Friendship S'moresgasbord

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Chapter 7: Road to Romance?

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Chapter 8: Bumpy Road

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Chapter 9: From Here to Where?

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Chapter 10: A Shimmer of Light in the Dark

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Chapter 11: π, Plans, and Perceptions

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Chapter 12: On the Road Again

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Chapter 13: Dreams, Unbecoming

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Chapter 14: Renewed Bonds

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Vacation's End: Drawing on New Roots

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Epilogue: Plucking at Threads

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