Choices

Chapters

Chapter 1: Come As You Are
Chapter 2: Bittersweet Symphony
Chapter 3: The Kids Aren't Alright
Chapter 5: Freshmares
Chapter 4: Happy Hearth's Warming, I Don't Want to Fight Tonight

Chapter 1: Come As You Are

Choices
By Paleo Prints
Chapter 1: Come As You Are

“Honestly dear, I don’t see how you could wear flannel on a summer day like this.”

Cheerilee pushed her front hooves into the carriage seat. “Mom, it’s a statement. It’s part of the look.” The college-bound magenta mare ran an anxious hoof through her tangled hair. Looking out the carriage window only brought an endless repetition of trees and grass as Ponyville retreated and Canterlot advanced. Given a choice between another squirrel sighting and meaningful conversation with her mother, she became ambivalent.

Orchid Petal sighed. She pulled a comb out of her bulging purse and began making small adjustments to her flowing pink mane. “I never thought I’d miss statements like ‘mares just want to have fun.’ Can we go back to those?” She tried a warm smile on her inscrutable offspring. “They were kind of fun.”

“Ponies change, Mom.” Cheerilee lifted her other hoof to her own mane. She noticed soon that she was subconsciously mimicking her mother’s grooming. With concealed panic she immediately tousled the pink and white hair into its previous mess. “I’m just discovering who I am.”

“Of course, dear.” Orchid leaned back, letting the supple cushions of the private coach absorb her. “I tried to convince your father to come. I’m sorry he couldn’t make it. You know how he is.”

Cheerilee’s smile, previously ever-present in their lives, was lately an unexpected treat for her mother to see. Its sudden reappearance seemed to outshine the summer sun. “Mom, Dad closed the seed shop early and called me over. He gave me ‘the talk’ again. I see that he cares. I just wish you both would realize that I’ll be fine.”

Orchid Seed turned toward the carriage window to conceal a dark look. It didn’t entirely work. “I worry about you socializing with that waste of horn.”

Cheerilee rubbed her temples. “Mom, Lyra’s one of my oldest and closest friends.”

Her temperamental mother openly flashed Cheerilee a look of disapproval. “Your father and I worked hard to pay for this tuition. We’ve carefully cultivated you, whereas the Heartstrings have dragged their daughter along on their long fall from grace.” She softened her expression as she saw mounting anger on her daughter’s face. Gingerly she rested her hoof on Cheerilee’s side
.
“Please believe me, my little blossom. She’s a charity case. Your father and I only worry how she’d rub off on you if you get too close to her.”

Cheerilee turned away, hoping her natural fuchsia coat could hide the blush her mother caused. You have no idea. “I’ll make good decisions, Mom. Stop worrying so much.”

Orchid Seed flinched at her daughter’s reply. “Dear, I don’t mean to cast aspirations. Trust me, your father and I have every confidence in you.”

“Are you sure you’re close enough to the campus doctor’s office, dear? What if you have one of your… moments?”

Ditzy Doo stepped loudly as she paced around her new dorm room, converting irritation into force. She briefly considered working out a possible conversion rate before sighing in resignation. “Ma, they only last for a few seconds. My aphasia won’t burn down the dorm.”

Topsy Twister clicked her tongue with worry. Her urban Bronxco accent dripped with fear. “Sweetie, don’t worry. In case something happens, your father and I got you a little something to help.” Her orange curls bounced with happiness as she pulled out a gift-wrapped present. "We bought you the perfect solution for a case of word salad."

Ditzy turned with a forced grin. Topsy's face was a mess of worry. Her mother's stable voice had organized everything from beauty pageants to Best Young Flyer competitions, but it now cracked with fear. “Mom, what did you get me that could be so… flat?”

Topsy pushed the gift into Ditzy’s hooves with the desperation of a rescuer throwing a life preserver. “You’ll like it, Bubbles. It was your father’s idea.”

Ditzy stuck her tongue out of her mouth in concentration as she carefully unwrapped the present. She knew she would be held personally responsible for any wasted wrappings. He eyes spun in frustration as she focused on precise movements. Soon, the crinkling sound stopped.

“Aw, Mom! Really? What the spanner turntable lift box freak crutch?” The furious student held up a small chalkboard. It had been modified into a necklace with the addition of a rope loop on the top.

Topsy gasped. “You're having another attack! Quick, put it on! Write out the words!”

Ditzy threw it on the floor. “That’s all I need, Mom! How’s everyone going to react to a mare walking around like a sandwich store advertisement?” She walked into her bathroom, slamming the door behind her.

Topsy paced around the room, eyes watering. “Lovey Bubbly, your Dad just thought it would help with your problems. We have to consider other solutions now that your great-aunt Daring’s cut him off from her book royalty money.”

“Well, I was getting sick of doctors anyway. “ Ditzy sat on her haunches, taking slow and measured breaths before speaking to her mother again. “Where is Dad, anyway? Did he have an event today?” She stared at the cracks in the ceiling, watching them dance with her unconscious eye movements while waiting for the dreaded answer.

Topsy inspected her daughter’s suitcase, crying and snooping in typical Bronxco multitasking fashion. “No, honey. His next announcer job is tomorrow. He just didn’t want to be a nudnik.”

Ditzy stood on her back hooves to lean onto the mirror. She grabbed a towel in preparation. “Of course. It’s just an added plus that Smooth Storm doesn’t have to be seen with his disabled daughter in public.” Ditzy stared hard in the mirror, looking at her eyes as she breathed heavily. After several dry moments, she threw the towel across the room. “I’m used to it, I guess.”

Topsy held up a childhood toy from Ditzy’s suitcase. “Honey, it’s not like that. You know it’s hard for someone in showbiz to deal with their career and have a personal life with so many… issues. I mean, he’s done all he can for a daughter with three medical conditions.”

Ditzy was about to leave the bathroom when her mother’s sentence made her hesitate. She held her quivering hoof in place over the knob. “Three conditions, Mom? I have two.”

Her mother gritted her teeth awkwardly. She turned around the wooden toy in her hooves. “Well, you know,” she offered pleasantly. Her agreeable tone contrasted with the look of malevolent hate on her face. She regarded the blue painted wooden box with loathing. “There’s the eye thing, and the aphasia, and… ”

Her heart skipped as she came to the front of the homemade toy. The top of the box was labeled “Pony Box” in a childish scrawl. A poorly-drawn window showed a young grey pegasus and a brown stallion inside. “You have the…the brain thing… ”

Topsy lifted the hated object over her head. She glanced around for a garbage can to dispose of the representation of her daughter’s most troubling issue. A cruel smile appeared as she saw the bin in the hallway. She was halfway toward the door when the aged block was forcefully grabbed from her grasp.

Turning around, Topsy stared into the eyes of a wrathful Ditzy. The younger mare clutched the blue toy to her chest as her finally wet eyes flashed accusingly. “I do not have a brain thing, Mom!”

Topsy fought back a welling of tears as her daughter’s shrieks echoed down the dorm hall. “Of course not, my Bubbly Bubbe. But, you know your therapist recommended you get rid of all that stuff that, you know, like that… ”

Ditzy advanced on her mother, nostrils flaring. “Don’t you ever touch my old TARDIS, mom! Ever!”

Tears ran down Topsy’s cheeks. “Of course, dear. I forgot. Your ‘TARDIS.’” Her eyes twitched slightly. “Why don’t I just go get us a drink, eh?” She almost managed to keep her composure before leaving Ditzy’s sight.

Ditzy threw herself backwards onto her couch. She held the beloved childhood artwork over her head for a second, staring straight at the drawing of the chestnut-coated stallion. “You’ll see, Mom.” Ditzy smiled at the painted Doctor as she felt tears run down her cheeks. “Once I get my degree I’ll be able to do things with all the stuff he taught me. Someday you’ll know I’m not crazy.”

Busy students wandered the open grounds of Canterlot University, searching hurriedly for specific room numbers and offices. A lone pegasus or two could be glimpsed every few minutes skimming through the trees of the gigantic garden. Centuries ago a wealthy alumni had provided the school with perpetual trust funds in exchange for the conservation of the original wilderness. As Cheerilee and her mother walked over fields of flowers the young mare gaped.

The university surrounded the gardens the way buildings on a Monopony board surround the cards and logo. The center of the campus was a hollow neighborhood of see-through buildings. Houses, furniture, and even mock-ups of teachers and students were constructed out of vine trellises. To Cheerilee’s right was a lectern commanded by a stern-looking pony-shaped planter. Vines covered in blue flowers snaked in and out of his body, but either regular trimming or magic ensured that his shape was visible as he forever attempted to wake a napping student covered in daffodils.

“This is so cool. You don’t normally see Yellow Dusk Creeper growing inside of cities.” Cheerilee ran from scene to scene, wordlessly cooing at each new sight. To Orchid’s eyes she looked like a museum visitor in a rush to see every portrait.

Orchid smiled. “Aren’t you glad you came?”

Cheerilee grunted as she stuck her head inside a huge flower bush made to look like a taxi cart. She pulled herself free from it with a crown of sticky red flowers caught in her mane. A quick head shake brought her long tangles within nibbling range, and a scarlet bloom was instantly swallowed. Cheerilee leaned against a trellis with her eyes closed, savoring the taste.

Her mother petted her mane gingerly, avoiding the dripping petals. “That’s how I like to see you, Blossom. You didn’t get your cutie mark for apathy, you know. When did not being cheerful become the cool thing?”

“Stylistic argument later. Aftertaste now.” Cheerilee plucked more of the jelly-like flowers into her mouth.

Orchid shook her head, a stoic mask allowing the occasional smile to slip through. “Dear, you’ll never catch a husband like that. You’d be stunning if you cleaned yourself up. You had so many colts chasing you during the glam years. Have you ever wondered where they disappeared to?”

Cheerilee nearly choked on sugary petals. “I dunno. I… just stopped liking the selection, I guess.” She started walking off. “And for the last time, I look fine!”

Orchid shook her head as she stayed a few hoof-lengths behind “Dear, you never know just how you look through other ponies’ eyes. Say, would you mind meeting a nice stallion who lives here? I’m old friends of his family… “

Her daughter’s full gallop had already carried from the gardens to the buildings proper. Orchid put on a brave face and forced a cheerful tone as she watched Cheerilee’s flank disappear into a revolving door.

“Maybe she’s already got a stallion somewhere.”

Ditzy was lying down in a darkened room when the mint unicorn kicked in the door. “Party time has arrived!” Ditzy flung a confused look at the strange mare. The intruder stumbled towards the other couch, miraculously managing to not spill the mug of cider she waved like a flag. The party pony collapsed onto the sofa, closing her eyes and making soft sounds of contentment. “I will enjoy sleeping here.”

“Yeah, the couches on this floor are really nice.”

Ditzy’s words made the green mare sit up abruptly. She narrowed her eyes at the pegasus across the room. “What’re you doing here?”

“Most likely the same thing you are, only without the sleeping thing. I’m Ditzy Doo. Welcome to the room!”

The newcomer scratched her mane as she steadied herself upright. Ditzy grimaced at the unnatural position the mint pony settled into. “Well, Lyra Heartstrings of Canterlot is pleased to offer you a housewarming gift in the traditional Canterlot way.” She waved the mug cheerfully at Ditzy, belched, and started giggling.

Ditzy joined in. “You’re funny. This should be a fun semester with you as a roommate."

Lyra cast her hoof in all directions to reach the nearby lantern. As the fireflies woke up she noticed a weird object sitting on the shelf. “So, what’s this?” She slowly levitated the blue wooden block into the air. As Lyra slowly rotated it Ditzy nibbled her hoof to avoid laughing.

“It’s a TARDIS. It means ‘Time and Relative Dimension in Space.’ It travels through space/time.”

Lyra blinked. “Cool. I’ve never read that series. I’m a total freak for the Humanworld novels, though. Hey, I’ll loan you the first book if I can get your time travel one.”

Ditzy blushed. “Um. I don’t have the first book.” She sighed, and then suddenly sat up with a terrified look of realization. “Oh no. The bookstore’s been open for almost an hour now! Catch you later, roomie!” A gray blur flew out of the room.

Lyra tracked her by the sound of terrified students travelling down the hall. She lowered the TARDIS onto the table and raised a hoof in feeble protest. “I’m not really your… ah, buck it. At least she’s cute.” She turned over, squeezed the pillows into a distorted clump, and promptly began snoring.

A bouncing pegasus filly sent noisy protests echoing through the library lobby. “Mommy, look at the neat statue! It’s got a spear and stuff!”

The librarian at the front counter threw disapproving looks at the foal’s mother. The reproached parent rolled her eyes. “That’s nice dear. Please try to be quiet while I check out these books.”

The filly’s volume only increased, as did angry mutters from the rest of the library line. “But Mom, he’s got three spears, or maybe one spear, or maybe it’s a fork! He’s going to eat something huge!”

The librarian crossed her fore-hooves. “Miss, if you can’t control your daughter I won’t be able to check out your selections.” She gestured to the large pile of research books she had barely gotten halfway through.

The torrent of noises continued as the besieged mother placed her forehead on the library desk. “I’m sorry, I really need these for my dissertation, and I know I can’t… “ Words failed her as the quivering started. She could already feel wetness on the edge of her closed eyes. Suddenly she snapped her eyelids open; she realized that she heard a strange sound.

It was silence.

The mother, the librarian, and the relieved check-out line turned to regard the now quiet child. The young pony was sitting spellbound as a scruffy young mare sat nearby. The fuchsia filly in flannel was happily lecturing to the hyperactive child, and held every iota of her attention.

“…so Foamrider is actually holding a trident. It’s the traditional weapon of the sea-ponies in the myths. This one is called ‘Seastrike,’ and he’s supposed to have used it to seal the gates of Tartaurus against the Red Necromancer’s escape. Have you ever heard that one?”

The little white pegasus shook her head.

Cheerilee smiled. “Well, it’s a story of darkness rainbows, dragons, and transformed princes. It all started when… “

A few minutes later she felt a hoof gently placed on her shoulder. She turned to see an overjoyed older mare wearing a saddlebag filled with books. She had tears in her eyes.

“Pardon me, miss. I’ve never seen Surprise sit still and listen for so long.”

Cheerilee smiled and shrugged. “Well, it does sound like our little filly might be willing to be quiet for a little while longer if you check her out a book on mythology. Isn’t that right?”

Surprise vibrated her head up and down into a blur. Her mother took her by the hoof. She walked a few paces before turning back to Cheerilee.

“I can’t help but wonder, Miss. What are you studying to be?”

Cheerilee’s answer was cut off by a pony behind her speaking in a proper Canterlot accent. “I’m happy to assure to you that this young mare is one of the rising stars of our education program.” Cheerilee turned to see a smiling red unicorn gently stomping in soft approval. Her mother stood next to him, beaming with pride.

Cheerilee nervously grinned and nodded as a round of applause followed from the grateful library line. Surprise’s mother gave her a kiss on the forehead.

“You have a gift,” she declared. “Use it.” She turned and took her bouncing child into the folklore section.

Cheerilee blushed at the unexpected attention while the scarlet gentlepony helped her to stand. He raised an approving eyebrow. “I am almost surprised to find out that your mother hasn’t been exaggerating. You really do have a talent, my dear.”

Orchid rushed to her daughter’s side. “This is Professor High Class, Blossom. He’s an old friend of the family who’s going to be very impressed.” As her mother threw her hoof over the young teacher’s shoulder, Cheerilee felt uncomfortably like a young foal being shown off at a spelling bee. She ducked out of her mother’s reach and approached her academic superior.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, sir! I’m glad we could meet before classes begin.”

High Class shook his head. “Orchid, I have no idea how your taciturn husband could produce such a proper young lady.” He paused in contemplation. “She certainly dresses like him, though. Shall we take a lunch and perhaps discuss how your family is doing, dear Miss Petal?”

Cheerilee’s eyes rolled as her mother giggled like a schoolfilly. “It’s Mrs. Seed-Petal now, you old charmer. You know that very well.” High Class had the propriety to at least pretend to be embarrassed.

Cheerilee’s eyes went wide. “Oh, buck me. I need to get to the student bookstore.”

Her mother coughed at the profanity as the professor waved away her concerns. “No need, my dear. Allow me to treat you and your delightful mother to lunch whilst I send a grad student to get your textbooks. I’d hate to imagine a demure young lady like you being stuck in that dreadful line.”

Ditzy moved from one set of hooves to the other as she considered the seemingly endless parade of ponies ahead of her on the Canterlot University green. Surrounded by her fellow students for the first time, she tried to keep the worry off of her face. Years of relying on obscure machines and improvised repairs had made Ditzy good at mental calculations, and she didn’t like how the pace of the line compared with the bookstore’s stock and closing time.

“So, who’re you standing in line for?”

The sudden question snapped Ditzy out of her reverie. Ditzy turned her attention from the glacially-paced line to the curious voice behind her. “Oh! I’m taking Professor Free Radical’s Principles of Energy 101. And you?”

A bespectacled unicorn gave Ditzy an incredulous once over. “Really? I thought you were someone’s staff holding their place. You’re not actually a student here, right?”

Ditzy nodded. “Yuppers! I got a muffin of a scholarship from my school aptitude test scores, so here I am! I’m Ditzy Doo, at your service!” She offered an enthusiastic salute as her eyes spun. “I’m a magi-energetic engineering major.”

The unicorn’s friends stared at Ditzy, whispering just out of her hearing. Ditzy’s nerves started to fray as they leaned over to whisper in their comrade’s ear, who giggled and pointed at Ditzy’s face.

“Ew. That thing with your eyes is gross. Why do you do that?”

“Um… “ She dug her hoof into the ground to keep herself from running. “I have… stuff. In my head.” This only drew another snicker from the small group. Ditzy threw on a cheerful grin. “What’re you majoring in?”

“Ordering around ponies like you.” The unicorn turned away with an incredulous snort.

Ditzy spent the next hour with a tight sliver of a smile on her face, not reacting to the occasional laugh from the group behind her. Her smile picked as the inside of the university bookstore became visible. Gigantic piles of tomes were bagged and bits flew freely. It reminded Ditzy of an auction house mixed with a library.

Within minutes of entering she brought a large stack of required volumes to the front counter. She smiled widely as a bored clerk clicked an abacus with disinterest.

“Okay, that'll be two hundred and seventy-five bits. Thank you for shopping.” He stared at Ditzy impatiently.

Her face was pale as she checked her saddlebags. “Really? My scholarship only gave me fifty bits monthly to cover books and groceries.” She shook out the bags, only finding a screwdriver, a banana, and a battered piece of broken machine totally unknown to Equestrian science. “Are you sure it's that much, sir?”

He gestured to the line behind her. “Miss, either you buy them or you don't. Which is it?”

Ditzy’s eyes dropped. “Coronet marzipan purple in-between.” She shrugged. “Where’s the used textbook shelf?” The clerk gave her a withering glare. “Well, I’m going to have to take notes in class, then.” She looked at the four-hoof tall stack of books. “Lots of notes.” She wrapped her forelimbs around the stack. “Sir, I’ll put these back on the shelves for you. Don’t you bother getting up.”

She walked out of the line past several glares, disappearing into the far stacks of the store. She hummed tunelessly as she returned the books to their places. The continual sound of ringing registers was broken by a curious questioner.

“Are you actually putting the books back?”

Ditzy turned with a volume in her mouth to regard the speaker. A brownish red unicorn mare was staring at her in surprise with blue-gray eyes. Ditzy started to reply through the book, which prompted an amused shake of the stranger’s white mane. Rolling her eyes, Ditzy careful placed her book back on the shelf.

“Yes miss, I’m putting them all back where they were. I have a little time to kill, I guess. Might as well help out!”

The unicorn’s eyes went wider. “Having been at this school for a while, whenever someone pulls what you did it’s only to sneak the books outside the bookstore.”

Ditzy gasped in shock. “I couldn’t do that!”

The strange mare giggled. “Someone like you’d never think of that, I guess.”

Ditzy shrugged. “Actually there are five major flaws in the security system and four unwatched exits. It’d be kinda easy. But even if things may not be going my way today, that’s no reason to get the clerk in trouble.”

The unicorn blinked. “Wha… how did you… “She cast a glance towards the showroom, rolling the cheerful pegasus' statement around in her head.

Ditzy shrugged. “I used to do a lot of indoor running. Ditzy Doo, at your service!” She proffered a hoof to the confused mare, who shook it automatically.

“Um. I’m Clockwork. I think I can help you with the whole book thing.” She winked at Ditzy’s curious look, then pointed to a wrench emblazoned across her flank. “Us gearheads have to stick together.”

Ditzy nodded vigorously. “It’s so great to meet another engineering student! What courses are you taking? Who’s your favorite professor? What kind of muffins do you like?”

Clockwork carefully placed both hooves on Ditzy’s shoulders. “I’d love to chat here, but if you want the books we have to go before they wheel the dumpsters out.”

Ditzy’s eyes spun. “Dumpsters?”

Clockwork slyly grinned as she threw a foreleg around Ditzy and pulled her toward the exit. “My friend, there are two kinds of unicorns in Canterlot: the nobles, and the ones who keep the nobles' world running. If you’re from the second one, you learn how to get stuff on the cheap.”

They paced out of the bookstore doors apparently empty-hooved, leaving a curious clerk to waste an hour rechecking inventory on the engineering shelves.

“Em… your Majesty… is that… a banana?”

Cheerilee, Ditzy, Princess Celestia, and the Jacuzzi all disappeared as a slam woke Lyra up. She rolled onto the floor, yelping in surprises. As she sat up she rubbed her head and cast an aggravated glance around the dorm room.

Ditzy was organizing a stack of books twice as tall as a pony. The lopsided pile alternated between volumes in perfect condition and things that looked like a hydra chewed on them. Lyra cautiously approached the tower of tottering tomes, sniffing skeptically.

“Ditzy, where did you get an engineering textbook that smells like bananas?”

The proud pegasus grinned. “Did you know that most of the students here just chuck their old books away? Apparently you can’t buy alfalfa with what the book store pays back, so everypony just leaves stuff they don’t need by the dorm dumpsters.”

Lyra carefully levitated a battered workbook out of the pile. “This one’s got answers in it.” She dropped it to examine another. “This one’s got different answers.” She eyed a third identical book. The drawings on the title page made her blush. “This one’s more like an anatomy book.”

Ditzy looked over her shoulder and smiled. “Well, everypony needs somepony to daydream about.”

Lyra closed the book with a mischievous grin. “So, who do you daydream about, Miss Doo?”

Ditzy’s head was by now stuck in the fridge, but Lyra caught the shrug as it flowed down to her rump. “He’s from out of town. Say, no stallion visited while you were napping, did they?”

“No one’s come through that door except for you.”

Ditzy giggled. “My colt wouldn’t need a door.” She pulled out a tin of carrot-flavored haymen and set the noodles to cook.

“I am so proud of you, my dear.” Orchid walked through the halls heedless of those avoid her. Several times she almost collided with students, once nearly sending a cart of moving supplies over.

Cheerilee steadied he mother with a hoof. “Mom, you have to look where you’re going.”

Her only response was a laugh. “I can only see where you’re going, dear! I always said you could be a doctor or lawyer. I was worried when you settled on teacher, but here in Canterlot you could use your talents to get the bits you deserve.”

Cheerilee flipped her mane dismissively as she trotted down the hallway. “It’s not about the money, Mom.”

Orchid waited in the hallway as she watched her daughter disappear down a door. She took a deep breath with a worried look on her face. “Cheerilee, you say that because you’ve always had it.”

Her daughter didn’t hear her as she saw Ditzy at the table, studying while stuffing herself with haymen. “Ditzy Doo! You’re my roomie?”

The fuchsia mare’s grin was quickly returned. “Hey, Cheerilee! It’s good to see another Ponyville face.” Tension inside Ditzy released, knowing that she wouldn’t be bunking with a judgmental Canterlot pony. She hadn’t hung out much with the well-off filly from her hometown during school, but Cheerilee always counted as a friendly face.

Cheerilee sat down at the table. “Well, we certainly lucked out.” Here eye’s flickered toward Ditzy’s shelf. “Wow! It’s the Traveling Box!”

Ditzy turned in surprise. “You… you know what that is?”

“That’s the box that an ancient wizard rides down from the stars, right?” She handled the box gingerly. “It’s an old story, dating back before the first Hearth’s Warming Eve.

“Yeah, it’s from a silly story for kids.” Ditzy cast her eyes down at the table.

Cheerilee placed a hoof on Ditzy’s shoulder. “When I became a mare I put away childish things, including the fear of childishness and the desire to be very grown up,” she quoted.

Cheerilee rubbed Ditzy's mane, making the depressed pegasus look up in cautious hope. “You need to read Strive Stables," the would-be-teacher lectured. "Ditzy, I love fantasy and mythology!” She cast another glance at the toy. “You’ve painted it kind of like a phone booth.” Turning back to Ditzy, she suddenly asked, “Hey, did my things arrive?”

Ditzy nearly snorted the last of her noodles. She looked away, concealing a smile as she explained, “Yeah, they’re all in your room’s closet.”

Cheerilee rushed out of the common room into her small bedroom. She gave it an approving nod as she walked through. “Okay, I have to thank Dad for this one. It really is a nice setup.” She hurried to the knobs and threw open the doors.

Cheerilee squeaked as mint lips wrapped around her nose. “Surprise,” whispered an enticing voice. Lyra’s inviting eyes made Cheerilee’s coat stand on end. She leaned out and whispered into the stunned mare’s ear, “Should I come out of the closet now?”

“Mother,” was the only reply the blushing mare could manage. Lyra nodded in triumph, causing Cheerilee to gesture wildly toward the front of the apartment. “No. My. Mother.” Lyra’s eyes rolled back briefly before she leaned out to peck Cheerilee on the cheek. “Get rid of her,” she softly commanded.

Cheerilee twitched, threw a spastic hoof in salute, and moved towards the living room. Lyra stood on her back hooves, leaning on the door frame. “Huh. It’s not so hard after all.”

Rushing into the common room, Cheerilee found her mother already chatting amiably with her roommate. “Really, an engineering scholarship? I’m sorry to be surprised, but no one in town ever spoke of how talented you were.”

Ditzy called back from the kitchenette sink. “Yeah, I traveled a lot over the summers. I learned stuff in lots of different places.”

Orchid raised an eyebrow. “Summer engineering internships, then? Miss Doo, I had no idea you were such a motivated mare.” She cast a diplomatic smile to Cheerilee. “Little Blossom, these are the kind of friends you should be making.”

Cheerilee breathed out aggravation from the unspoken jab at Lyra. “Mom, I’m really tired. Can I unpack my things and crash?”

Orchid nodded as she moved toward the door. “Of course. You may want to make this place look respectable.” She winked conspiratorially. “I know there’s a certain stallion who’s been wanting to meet you that lives on campus.”

“Mom, stop trying to set me up! I’m not looking for a coltfriend right now.”

Orchid’s eyes narrow suspiciously. “Certainly. Well, I’m proud of you anyway. Have a good night, dear. I’m going to leave before I start crying.” Cheerilee silently paced over and hugged her mother, sitting on her haunches. After a moment the tearing older mare left, closing the door behind her.

It was silent for a full ten seconds before Lyra’s head stuck out of the doorway. “Is the old nag gone yet?”

Her response was a playful hoof aimed at her head that she nimbly dodged. “Lyra, how on Equestria are you here in Canterlot? Your parents didn’t have the money to send you here.”

The mint musician tackled her marefriend onto the couch. “Shall I leave my special somepony crying alone at night? I’ve been staying at a halfway house for struggling students. There’s a couple I know who lets out their beds and sofas to talented poor ponies like myself while we're going to school.”

Cheerilee looked into two gold eyes that were bloodshot and drooping. “Have you been getting sleep?”

Lyra chuckled as she rolled off of the couch. “Well, I have to do a lot of gigs to keep my music classes. I come home late, and the furniture is first-come first-served. They only have a couple of couches. I sleep on the love seat.”

Cheerilee raised herself and leaned her neck over Lyra’s, closing her eyes. “You could sleep here, maybe.” She suddenly looked at Ditzy, biting her lip. “Um, that is… “

Ditzy turned away. “Um… I have a major concern. Having marefriends in here might be a problem.”

Lyra responded first. “Really?” Cheerilee saw Lyra’s shoulders tense almost imperceptivity. The cheerful-sounding unicorn was smiling widely at Ditzy’s back like a manticore displaying teeth at an intruder. “Whatever could that be?”

Cheerilee placed a gentle hoof on Lyra’s shoulder. “Calm down,” she whispered. “She always seemed nice.”

“They all do at first,” her marefriend replied.

Ditzy shook her head as she brought out a box from the refrigerator. “Well, I knew fifty-six muffins would spread well between two mares. One for every meal and an emergency muffin gives us a two week supply. Sharing equally between the three of us might be a little harder.” Ditzy stuck her tongue out of the corner of her mouth as look of deep concentration based over her. “I may need to make more, which will necessitate a cupboard ingredient reorganizing. And bananas. Bananas are good.”

She placed the box on the counter and lifted a trio of muffins out. "Well, we might as well each if the formula is off. Oh, honey muffins! Who wants that honey?"

Lyra’s mouth dropped open as she turned to Cheerilee. “Can we keep her? I’ll take care of her, I promise.”

Author's Note: For the newcomers, Cheerilee and Lyra come courtesy of my story "School Daze," while Ditzy here is from "The Three Whooves." If this is your first time with me, welcome aboard!

Chapter 2: Bittersweet Symphony

Choices
By Paleo Prints
Chapter 2: Bittersweet Symphony

“So, are your classes going okay?”

Caramel Apple passed the vase of flowers towards Cheerilee as she considered the question. She bit off the last of the daffodils and looked away in thought. While she considered, a waitress immediately grabbed the empty appetizer container and questioned Caramel.

“Excuse me, sir? Do you want more flowers?”

He had been staring at Cheerilee, intently but not intimidatingly. The waitress snapped him back to reality. “Oh? Sure. We’ll wrap them up and take them home if we need it.”

She nodded, scooping up his empty platter of spaghetti squash and strawsta. He didn’t look away. “Caramel to Cheerilee. Come back from sayin’ howdy to the Mare in the Moon.”

She shook her head, and he took in the way her disheveled mane bounced around her neck like a living thing. His heart skipped at the sound of her deep breath.

“Caramel, I think things are going well. Professor High Class keeps saying I have all this potential as an educator.” She nervously played with the last uneaten flower stem. “I’m not sure I see it.”

Caramel raised his eyebrows skeptically. “You were the best babysitter, ‘member? I really thought this teaching thing would be as natural as an apple rolling downhill for you.”

A long breath came out of Cheerilee as she absent-mindedly crushed the flower stem segment by segment. “It all works okay until the kids really get going. Then I get all frazzled and things turn to crab-apples.” She looked up. “No offense.”

He smiled. “I grew up around Applejack. I’ve done heard a lot worse. Honey, I think ya gotta relax. There’s a talent waitin’ for you, and it’ll come out naturally.” He pushed his hoof forward onto hers. “Everypony’s gonna see someday.”

The new vase of flowers that hit the tablecloth, and Cheerilee used the excuse of new blossoms to keep her mouth chewing instead of talking. Swallowing slowly, she let a timid smile show. “Thank you.”

He shook his head. “Yup, I was told there were depths to this mare. Why don’t I pay for the…“ His hoof fruitlessly groped under the table. “Um. Um.”

She arched a playful eyebrow. “Did you forget your saddlebag again?”

Caramel jumped to his hooves. “Darn things gotta be at the park. Be right back.” He smiled. “While I’m gone, y’all wanna decide if we can call whatever this is dating yet?”

She nearly choked on a petal while he winked and turned to run. Cheerilee sat for a while, pushing her barley chunks around her soup bowl aimlessly. The philosophical food arranging dragged on until a pink-topped blue head entered her view.

“Mind if I sit down?” The pegasus mare didn’t wait for an answer before helping herself to a chair. “I think we need to talk.”

Cheerilee sputtered a petal onto her plate in surprise. “Sure! Sure thing… Wind Whistler, is it? You study with Ditzy for meteorology, right?”

The mare Ditzy always called “Windy” gave an unfriendly smile. “This isn’t about school. I want to talk about Caramel. He’s a great stallion, isn’t he?”

Cheerilee nodded. The diplomatically unfriendly mare continued.

“I’d hate for him to be strung along by someone who didn’t really care about him.”

Cheerilee pushed himself up. “I’d never hurt him.”

A dark look passed over Wind Whistler’s features. “But you didn’t say you cared about him. Totally off-topic, how was moving furniture last night?”

The prospective schoolmare stared in confusion as the pegasus continued.

“You see, I was walking through the dorm when I heard the commotion coming from your room. Ditzy was outside, putting a horseshoe on the knob for some reason. When I asked about the thumping she muttered that you and Lyra were moving furniture.”

As Wind Whistler smiled Cheerilee sunk into her chair. “Sure. Sure. Indeed. Lots of furniture moving.”

The grinning winged belligerent pulled the flower vase toward her as Cheerilee sputtered. “It must have been strenuous. That explains what all the moaning was. Did you have any problems getting it into place?”

The embarrassed earth mare shook her head. Windy nodded. “Of course not. After all, once Lyra found the right place for it you started screaming. The entire dorm floor heard you shrieking ‘right there, please right there,’ I’m sure.”

Cheerilee covered her face with a hoof, having turned a pale pinkish color. “I’m very… feng shui. It had to be just right.”

Windy aggressively bit the head off of a flower. “Of course. That’s why you hollered like a mad mare once it was, I suppose.”

The education major nodded almost imperceptivity, her features frozen in fear as she scanned the restaurant for Caramel. “I’m delighted by proper room proportions.”

Windy stood up. “I care about Caramel. A lot. He deserves a mare that cares for him instead of leading him on. He’s kind, funny, and handsome. You know, he’s handsome enough that I don’t think he needs facial hair.” She leaned over and bit every flower petal off simultaneously. Staring hatefully into her rival’s eyes, her cold voice said “Neither do you.”

Cheerilee wondered if this was what it felt like if Nightmare Moon ate your soul on Nightmare Night.

“Hey, when did you get here, Windy?” Caramel panted as he made his way to the table. He grinned at Cheerilee. “Windy’s an old friend of mine. She’s something, ain’t she?”

“She’s a dove.” She’s a bucking nightmare.

Wind Whistler nodded. “I was just leaving, Caramel. I hope your date’s going fine.” As she started to walk away from the table, she turned back one final time.

“You know, I have to admire Lyra’s spirit. I’ve helped people move their furniture before.” She leaned toward Cheerilee until only inches separated her teeth from the teaching student’s eyes. “When my partner finishes, I don’t usually scream out ‘Yee-Haw’ quite so loudly.”

Cheerilee was motionless. As Wind Whistler passed by Caramel the smug and satisfied pegasus winked. “Hope your ‘date’ went well.”

Caramel waved good-bye to her as he sat down. He leaned over to Cheerilee and whispered conspiratorially, “It was by the fountain. So, did it?”

Cheerilee’s voice strained out the word “What?”

“The date question. Did it go well?”

There was a moment of silence. “Please take me home.”

Free Radical’s night class was drawing to a close as Starshine snuck in through the back. He crept low behind the back row of the lecture hall. The tardy unicorn kept his head low to avoid the impromptu quizzes and abuse Free Radical shot at late individuals. He sat down near his friends.

Two smiling mares simultaneously whispered, “Hey!” One was a bright sapphire, whereas the other had a scarlet coat. Starshine wasn’t alone in being thankful that Red Shift and Blue Shift had wildly different colors. Without that merciful detail the twin astronomy majors would be indistinguishable.

Starshine carefully pulled himself over the seat and grinned. “Did I miss a Derpy moment?”

Red Shift coughed nervously. “Well, Ditzy made an offhoof comment that the moon doesn’t hang quite as high as it used to.”

Blue Shift snorted. Red gave her a reproachful look. Starshine considered that the sisters might have more differences than he thought.

“Let’s increase the apparent magnitude,” shouted a voice from the lecture stage. “Starshine, come on down!”

Starshine sighed as he descended the stairs. The rest of the audience pretended to stifle laughter at the promise of one of Free Radical’s famous dress-downs.

Stepping onto the stage, he saw Professor Radical’s eyes light up behind slightly scratched glasses. The earth pony professor scratched his scraggly beard in what Starshine assumed was contemplation of the torments he would soon inflict. The young noble flinched as Radical scratched what was hopefully peanut butter off of his green coat.

“Mister Starshine! It’s an honor to have your attention at last. I just have to find a place for you.” Radical’s eyebrows raised and lowered in a gesture not unlike a cat squinting at a mouse. “Let’s ask my lovely assistant.” He turned backwards. “Miss Doo, a moment if you would?”

Ditzy was sitting on the stage, hooves playing with wires that dangled out of an open machine. “Yeah, Professor?”

The Professor breathed in the moment as his eyes alighted on his victim. “I’m analyzing some light from… Starshine. The hue is… ” He walked around the nervous student, studying his flank. “I’d say yellow.”

Ditzy’s tongue stuck out of the side of her mouth in thought. “Middle-of-the-road then, dead average. Not too bright.”

Radical’s grin lengthened at the giggles the audience threw at Starshine’s dignity. Ditzy stayed focused on her task. “Hey, Doc? I’ll have the demonstration generator up soon.”

The professor nodded as he took in Starshine’s indignation. “Hey, Ditzy!” He paused for a second as he leaned closer to whisper at the irritated noble. “Look at that tongue thing. That’s adorable. Shiny, her name’s Ditzy, right?” His eyes lit up with less than his normal humor. “You know, I heard you talking about her. I just want to get her name right.”

Starshine slowly swallowed. “Ditzy. Her name is Ditzy Doo.”

Radical nodded as he absent-mindedly scratched the overgrown side of his beard. “Ditzy, what if there’s a cloud of limp gas hanging off of it?” He played with Starshine’s mane. “It’s reddish and goes for quite a ways.”

“Low mass, Professor. Not a lot of stuff in it, so light gravity letting the fluff spread out far… ” Ditzy stopped as the audience roared with laughter. She turned and saw the shaking unicorn stare at her. Clockwork gave her a hoof’s up from the third row.

Free Radical beamed as Ditzy walked between him and Starshine. “Please stop,” she pleaded.

The amused faculty member rolled his eyes. “Come on, Ditz’. A little taste of humility isn’t such a… ”

Her voice cracked as she whispered, “Please stop, Professor. I’m okay being on one side of this. I’ve gotten used to it. Don’t put me on the other.”

He nodded after a pause. “Starshine, I don’t think you have a chance with this classy mare.” Raising his voice, he turned away from the two students on stage.

“Take out some paper, fillies and gentlecoats. An engineer friend of mine is working on a problem. He’s a technician for the wireless hydro-magic dam under construction in Ponyville. He’s given me a problem for you to work out.”

While his attention was away, Ditzy leaned closer to Starshine. “I’m sorry.”

At his most vulnerable moment, when Ditzy Doo could have took him to task for all the snickers and comments, the wall-eyed pegasus had taken pity on Starshine. She had showed him mercy.

He knew he’d never forgive her for that.

Fireworks exploded into shimmering rose blossoms over the crowd. Long lines of expectant society ponies snaked out of the front doors, chatting eagerly about the upcoming show while softly establishing the pecking order. While excitement bloomed a single armored pony broke from the crowd.

The determined guardsman strode purposely toward the opposite street corner. His eyes were narrowed in concentrations and his ears swiveling for sounds. Slowly but deliberately he approached a disheveled vagrant that others gave a wide berth.

The corner was commanded by a mint musician sitting uncomfortably on a stool. Her saddlebags were open in hopeless expectation of higher society charity. He idly wondered if she had made enough for a daffodil sandwich. A cheerful folk song floated away from the harp toward an audience of indifferent passersby.

He cleared his throat pointedly, to no effect. She played on with her eyes closed. Eyes rolling, he tapped the pavement loudly twice.

“Miss? You’re a block away from the Sillyputty Napalm show.”

She smiled. “I know, isn’t it cool? I love the bit he does about the ‘Seven Words You Can’t Say in Canterlot.’ Say… ” Lyra smiled suspiciously. “Have you heard his routine about the royal guards?”

A quick cough into a hoof followed. “The point is, Miss, that the venue wants you to leave.”

She opened her eyes and scanned the empty street. A family of gentleponies crossed the street to avoid her. Sighing, she gently leaned the harp against the saddlebags. Her eyes flickered to the unmoving guard.

“I’m on the outside. I’m looking in. Surely I don’t need a ticket for that, Sir?” The smile held as the soldier heard a nearly inaudible crack in her voice.

He shook his head slowly as his muscles went from tense to relax. “I’m sorry, Miss. The theater’s registered a complaint. I can’t let you stay here.”

Lyra nodded as she stowed her instrument into the saddlebags. As she doffed them they sounded a much quieter jingling sound than the guard had expected.

“How long have you been out here, Miss?” He frowned at the mare’s hesitation.

“The early bird catches the worm, Sir! Been here since early morning. I think I made sixteen bits in total. Well, time to run back to the U.”

The stallion’s brow furrowed as concern slipped into his voice. “The university’s all the way across town.”

Lyra nodded as she walked away. “Yup. Nice and far, indeed. Good night Mister The Man! Don’t let anyone stick it to you!”

“Wait.”

Lyra paused. She had been stopped by strangers before, and it wasn't usually pleasant. The cops certainly didn’t enjoy street performers in Canterlot. She tensed her back hooves for kicking and grimaced. “Come on, then,” she whispered. “What better place than here? What better time that now?”

The guard slowly walked to her side, oblivious to Lyra’s coiled violence. He dropped a small sack out of his mouth that jingled as it hit the group.

Her eyes went wide. “I… I can’t… “

“Take it.” He pushed it towards her. “I can’t let you work this neighborhood anymore. You’re going to need food for a few days.”

She nodded. Lyra tried to speak and failed. Settling for another nod, she turned and started the long walk home.

Lyra crept carefully across the ground of Canterlot University. The student ID card she found resembled her enough for a casual inspection. Regardless, there was no need to draw extra attention to her. Shortly after a yawning guard wandered bleary-eyed toward the gardens a grinning green blur rushed out of a bush toward the dorms.

The dormitory door open slowly and quietly. Lyra’s cautious eyes scanned the common room. The only pony was the shock-haired unicorn from the second floor, sleeping off a bender with cans of hard cider scattered about. Lyra slowly crept toward the staircase. Passing by the prone partier Lyra carefully used her horn to levitate an unopened can out of the snoozer’s grasp. Her victim only rubbed her ever-present purple glasses and mumbled as the drink-thief snuck upstairs.

Lyra relaxed as she passed the studying hallway. Experience had shown her how unlikely it was to attract the attention of those hard-working ponies. A passive glanced showed a gray-coated mare pouring over volumes of musical theory. Lyra’s throat made a small choking noise as she scanned the titles of the famous and expensive textbooks. Sighing, she moved to the dorm room hallway.

Lyra heard voices outside Cheerilee’s dorm. Quietly she cleaned up her hair with a little help from her horn and wiped the grime out of her coat. The exhausted musician put on a relaxed smile as she opened the door.

Inside Ditzy was furiously working on a mess of disorganized parts on the table. The obsessed engineer-to-be gave a warm wave as Lyra entered the dorm. From their first meeting the two mares had gotten along famously. Cheerilee had commented that Lyra’s famous mood swings tended to stay in the middle ground around Ditzy. The emotional noble found it hard to launch into a rage-filled diatribe while Ditzy watched on. The wall-eyed mare seemed to take personal responsibility for the world’s unfairness; Lyra felt self-conscious when she saw Ditzy chew her bottom lip in guilty empathy.

Cheerilee was spread across the couch. Evidence of Ditzy’s care suggested a bad mood. A tray of now-cold muffins sat near a cup of cold coffee and a neglected bowl of melted ice cream. The sounds of Seacattle grunge could be heard from across the room bouncing out of Cheerilee’s headset.

Lyra rubbed her marefriend’s back with a hoof. Cheerilee flipped over with a contemplative stare. Her face softened out of a mess of stress and worry. “Hey. Lyra. Your music class went on a little late tonight.”

The mint busker rolled her eyes. “Yeah, the Prof’s really working us. I may need to spend some extra time in the labs in the week to come.”

Cheerilee groggily pulled herself up from her nap and threw her forelimbs around Lyra’s waist. “C’mon. I miss you enough already.”

Silence hung for a few minutes. Cheerilee opened her eyes to look at Lyra’s poker-face. She eased Cheerilee back onto the couch and joined her there while pulling a sack out of her saddlebags.

“It’ll be okay. Here’s the grocery money from my scholarship. They’re hassling me; they may not send some for a while.”

Cheerilee shrugged and leaned her head onto a warm, green shoulder. “S’okay. I can ask Mom for more bits if we need it.”

Lyra shook her head. “Hey, what do I gotta do to prove I can take care of us?”

Cheerilee smiled as she nuzzled Lyra’s neck. “You want me to be your kept housemare? Maybe greet you in an apron everyday?”

Smiling, Ditzy chose that moment to diplomatically disappear to the other side of the kitchenette
.
Lyra’s breath stopped. Her eyes drank in Cheerilee’s contented breathing as she pulled the fuchsia mare closer. An optimistic pain crawled through her chest. “So, should I be worried about your date? He’s such an attractive stallion. Quite a catch, all things considered. After all, if you marry him your father will condone you. You marry me, your father will disown you.”

“It was… nice.”

Lyra frowned. “Nice? Are you a double agent, now? I should check your background for treasonous thoughts. After all, whatever happened to that nice colt you made out with on Prom Night under the statue?”

Cheerilee sat up. “Um… He moved away.” She looked away.

Lyra frowned. “How was it? You playing for the other team yet?”

Cheerilee launched herself at Lyra, wrapping her hooves around her neck. “Spending time with him was nothing like spending time with you. It doesn’t matter what team I’m on. I’m on whatever yours is.”

Ditzy walked in from the kitchenette with a thoughtful look. “You know players get traded in the off-season, right?”

Cheerilee sputtered as Lyra giggled. The perplexed pegasus shrugged and sat down to her homework.

Cheerilee stared at Ditzy’s back. “I love her.”

Lyra raised an appraising eyebrow. “Yeah? How much are we talking about?”

Cheerilee turned with a stunned expression at Lyra’s leer. “What? No, I just mean as a roommate.”

The unicorn nodded sternly. “A likely story.”

A memory lit up inside Cheerilee’s sleep-fogged brain. “Hey, Ditzy. Did you tell someone I was ‘arranging furniture’?”

Ditzy stayed focused on her work as she answered. “Yeppers! I had to think quickly. I couldn’t put a sock on the door in time.”

Lyra raised her eyebrows. “Dear Ditzy, you wear socks? Who’s the lucky colt you put those on for? I knew you were some stallion’s special somepony.”

The two mares on the couch heard the pegasus drop her tools. “I wish I was special. He’s so very special.” Ditzy walked morosely to the kitchen again, opening the cabinets while searching systematically for cooking supplies. Cheerilee noticed that Lyra had stopped responding to her embrace. Lyra was staring at the wall of tiny boxes inside one cupboard. There was a little yellow tag on every one of them. She curiously turned to Cheerilee.

“Rain,” she explained.

Lyra raised her eyebrows. “Hey Ditzy, that stuff’s for your meteorology class, I bet.”

Ditzy took a bite of her muffin and shook her head. “Nope.” She continued pulling small contented bites out of her exceptionally late breakfast, eyes closed in happiness.

Lyra pushed herself out of her marefriend’s grasp. Sitting up, she gave Ditzy an inquisitive look. “Miss Doo, I don’t get you.”

Ditzy inclined her head.

“You have the cheerful bubbly act down pat. You eat food in a cuter way than anyone else I know.” She turned to Cheerilee. “No offense.”

The prospective teacher shrugged. “No, I agree.”

Nodding, Lyra continued. “You greet everyone with a smile. Heck, all of Ponyville thought you were the town airhead. Now that I’m hanging around you more, I see the deep side of the pool. You go to mental places where I’d need a translator to understand. How do you have half the school convinced you’re a mad genius and the others that you rode the special chariot to flight school?”

Ditzy put her food down.

“I’m not like them. But I can pretend. If they think I’m dumb it makes them happy.” She sighed. “I think I’m dumb.”

Cheerilee jumped to her hooves. “That’s not true!”

The depressed pegasus shook her head. “I’m dumb about ponies. I don’t get the rules that no one writes down. Like, why should I stand in line in a salad bar when the line crosses the soup table and no one in line wants the soup anyway? Ponies are inefficient. When I pointed stuff out like that everyone looked at me. I just pretend not to get things and they laugh and leave me alone.”

Lyra stared at Ditzy, biting her lip. As Ditzy’s emotions poured out the mint musician looked more and more remorseful.
Cheerilee pulled the insecure savant into a hug. “How do you do it, Ditzy? How do you keep yourself so happy all the time?”

Ditzy looked out the window. “’Lee, look at all the stars. Imagine how many worlds could be around them, and what they would be like. You might have planets where everyone gets ordered around, or places where nobody stops smiling on pain of death. They’re could be stars out there with nasty monsters orbiting around them. Maybe they spend all their time planning how to get here and be horrible to ponies like us.”

While Ditzy lingered on the night sky, Cheerliee’s mind struggled to keep up. She rose from the couch and moved behind Ditzy’s chair. Over the past few months she had tried to crack the protective wall her room-mate kept up. She treasured the occasional glimpses she got of the whole worlds of thought spinning around inside Ditzy Doo’s head.

Ditzy finally returned to the conversation. “I’m lucky enough to live in a world where I get to bake you and Lyra muffins for breakfast. That’s worth dealing with the nasty things.”

Cheerilee silently embraced her room-mate, tenderly pulling her close. “Someday you’ll get the special somepony you deserve, Ditzy. You’ll find someone who realizes how amazing you really are.”

Ditzy weakly nodded and looked back out at the sky.

Lyra grinned. “And that is the reason why you’re coming with us to the Nightmare Night dance tomorrow night!”
Cheerilee and Ditzy stared uncomprehendingly.

Cheerilee swallowed and moved alongside Lyra. “Ly-Ly, is it a good idea to bring Ditzy Doo to the Phi Cloppa Cloppa frathouse?”

Lyra nodded, teeth in a rictus of excitement. “This is happening.” She sprang onto her hindfeet, gesticulating wildly. “You’re going to shake your cute little rump on the dance floor and let everyone on campus know how wrong they are. Word will travel to that special stallion about what he’s missing.”

Ditzy shrunk back into her chair. “No. That’s a bad idea. I’m… nopony anypony should know.”

Lyra cradled Ditzy’s chin on her hoof.

“Ditzy Doo, you are cute, funny, philosophical, bubbly, wildly attractive, and have a mane ‘Lee and I would kill for. Also, I swear if you skip out on this dance I’ll hide your baking supplies.”

“Let’s start wrapping up our pumpkin drawings, class! It’s almost three, and your parents are coming soon!”

Cheerilee moved from desk to desk in the educator’s classroom. The room had once been a laboratory, but it now resembled a elementary class. Excited young fillies bounced around the room while young prospective teachers provided pro bono babysitting and tutoring for the children of students and teachers.

As the rest of the children gathered up their coats and scarves Cheerilee knelt beside an active white filly. “Surprise, it’s time to go soon.”

The plucky pegasus nodded in a blur of motion. “Almost done, Miss Cheerilee.”

The curious teacher sat gingerly on a child’s stool. “Surprise, what are you drawing?”

The young ball of motion shrugged. “Monsters. The mare in the moon. The Travelling Box. Purple goop. Stuff.” She suddenly grinned as she held the paper up. “And you!”

Cheerilee giggled nervously. “And who’s that red pony with me?”

Surprise beamed. “That’s the stallion you’re going to marry.”

Cheerilee’s mental gears stopped spinning as Surprise hovered out of the chair, hugged her teacher, and flew outside. The confused mare picked up the paper.

I can’t tell what kind of clothes he’s wearing. Is… is that a white dress on the stallion?

A voice made her drop the paper and turn. “Miss Cheerilee, have we received our first bit of fan art?”

She turned to High Class, nearly breaking out in laughter. She never fully accepted the juxtaposition of High Class’ proper attitude and his white apron covered in crayon marks. “Yes, sir!” Her pride collapsed for a moment. “Well, the Stormsong colt drew a picture of a manticore eating me today after I made him sit in the corner.” Her face fell.

High Class sat down on the stool neck to her and chastely patted her on the shoulder. “My dear, you can’t let the students see when they get to you. Have I ever looked rattled in front of the children?”

She shook her head as he nodded in triumph.

“A teacher has to wear a mask. Imagine a mask of smiling joy and control. Let it cover any other features. They need that smile. At the end of the day, you may be the only pony that smiles at them. Whatever your real feelings, keep the mask up for them.”

Cheerilee stared in his direction, but High Class saw that her thoughts were elsewhere. He waved his hoof in front of her face and watched her snap back to Equestria.

“And now, isn’t it time for someone to join their special somepony for the Nightmare Night dance?”

She frowned thoughtfully and nodded as she walked out of the class. High Class shook his head at her retreating flank.
“My poor Cheerilee. What masks are you already wearing?”

Ditzy sat quietly in Free Radical’s office, sweating profusely.

“Well, the evaluation certainly looks good, Miss Doo.”

She drew in a breath.

The professor eyed the confused scribbles that spread across his desk. “The calculations you turned in are ahead of some researchers I know. If they’re correct, that is.”

She heard her blood racing through her ears and felt her heart beating. Free Radical looked at her and sighed.

“Ah, heck. You’re a better pony than Starshine deserved. You got the demonstration. You’ll present to the class and advisors on the last week before winter break."

Ditzy leapt into the air, squealing merrily. Free Radical covered his ears.

“That’s enough joy in this office! Get that mirth out of here until it’s at someone else’s expense!”

She saluted and flew out into the corridor. He shook his head and smiled. “Celestia, if I was only a few dozen years younger… “

Ditzy flew into the corridor, grasping the waiting Clockwork in a silent bear hug. The brown engineer smiled.
“I take it things went well?”

Ditzy nodded with tears in her eyes.

“Well, only one thing left to do. Go to your room and get spruced up for your party, young filly! Have you contacted that lucky stallion you won’t tell us about?”

Ditzy grinned as she flew away. “Absoyuply! I filled a bottle with clock gears and a picture of him and buried it in the garden!”

Clockwork stood where Ditzy left her from several minutes before deciding it was better not to know.

“Miss, do you have the hundred bits?”

Lyra nodded excitedly as she passed the bag to the costume shop owner. “Yep!”

He counted out the coins carefully. “This is some expensive costume work. I don’t usually get requests from that play. I hope your audience appreciates it.”

Lyra closed he eyes as she hugged the hanging costume. “Believe me, she’s worth every bit.”

Cheerilee’s white dressed glittered in the moonlight as she walked through the garden with Caramel. He looked her over appreciatively. “I gotta say you look splendid, Ma’am.”

She gave a small giggle as the cowboy-costumed pony doffed his hat to her. “Thanks. Do you recognize the play?”

He squinted. “Gone with the Windigos?”

She shrugged. “I’ll take you there sometime. It’s about a filly that gets lost trying to find something important.”

He offered his forelimb to her as they approached the frat house. “Sound like a right sad play.”

Cheerilee shook her head. “Oh, not at all. There’s magical friends, and life lessons, and dancing… “

Caramel stared blankly. She sighed. “It might not be your thing.”

As the pair entered the room Clockwork was enjoying the punch bowl while drawing compliments on her knight’s armor. A strong tap on her plate mail brought her face to face with Starshine.

The crowned and caped stallion smiled. “So, how are things?”

Clockwork dropped her vision. “Fine.” She turned away.

Starshine stood his place. “How’s your scholarship?”

Clockwork froze as a chill ran down her spine.

The gloating pretend-royalty walked in front of the stunned mare. “You do know my father is on the approval board?”

He stood in front of her and stared into the visor. She stuttered out, “Why?”

He grinned. “One day I’m going to ask you a favor, and you won’t say no. I have the power. I have the need. Now, I'm gonna push you around.”

As Cheerilee and Caramel walked unknowing past Clockwork’s hidden drama, Ditzy Doo made an entrance into the frat house. She wore an elegant dress with a long trail and a complicated hat. All eyes suddenly turned to regard the unique gown made fully out of grocery bags.

She stared down the crowd with confidence. “On Fraxorcohelios Six this is considered royal apparel.” She raised her chin and sniffed, walking off past the confused onlookers.

Ditzy grinned as she spotted Lyra at the snack table. She trotted over, eyes wide at the culinary monstrosity the lunatic lyricist was creating. “Lyra, what’re you doing?”

Lyra grinned. “Getting crazy with the cheese whiz. Have you seen Caramel and Cheerilee?”

Ditzy nodded. “They went to the dance floor.” She looked past her dorm mate and grinned. “It looks like he’s walking over here to get her a… “

Ditzy stopped, her mouth wide open. A chestnut-coated stallion was tip-hoofing through Caramel’s area, looking guilty. His hourglass cutie mark drew Ditzy’s eyes like a magnet.

Lyra glanced at the object of Ditzy’s affection. She gave an approving nodded. “Go.”

The shaking pegasus looked back at her friend. Lyra smiled.

“You’re more than Ditzy Doo. You’re a Bag Queen of Fraxowhatevery, and he’s just a common stallion. The impossible is possible tonight.”

“Excuse peanut bomb neck fluffer Frederick.” Ditzy walked off with purpose.

Lyra grinned. “Knock ‘em dead, kiddo.”

Cheerilee stood pensively on the side of the dance floor. She frowned as she watched the other carefree couples spin. A voice behind her snapped her from reverie.

“How you’ve changed my world, you precious thing.”

Cheerilee’s heart skipped. Lyra was standing on her hind-limbs, juggling a glass sphere with her hooves. She was dressed in a noble stallion’s garb, with an elegant vest and noticeably tight pants. Her mane was styled outward, pointing in every direction.

Cheerilee nearly fainted dead away. She couldn’t find the words to speak.

Lyra stepped forward, moving closer to the dumbfounded mare. She leaned in close enough for her breath to make Cheerilee’s face blush at the heat.

“You starve and near exhaust me. Everything I’ve done I’ve done for you!”

Lyra pulled Cheerilee off of her front legs, keeping her from collapsing with both hooves. The crystal had disappeared at some earlier point.

Tears ran down the earth mare’s cheek into a delirious smile. “You…you remembered.” A handful of ponies began to take notice of the scene.

Lyra beamed as she breathily whispered to her dance partner. “I move the stars for no one.” She grinned. “Of course I remembered. What kind of marefriend would I be if I forgot your favorite play?”

A nervous stallion in a tie and trench coat walked unobtrusively through the party. He looked askance at the physical displays of affection that surrounded him. He was even more shocked when a pretty grey mare grabbed him with both hooves and pushed him against the wall. She was quaking as her eyes started to water.

“Doctor! You came! I knew you’d find the bottle at the archaeological dig! You dated the cogs to the date of manufacture, right?”

The stallion gently pushed her hooves away. “I’m sorry. Do you know me, miss?”

“Oh Celestia, please no.” She searched his face desperately for understanding. “You… you haven’t met me yet, have you Doctor?”

He blinked. “Okay, it’s obvious there’s been a mistake here. I don’t know you. And there's no way you could know me.”

He started to walk away hurried, but stopped as she stepped forward and leaned her neck across the top of his mane. She shivered at his warmth and breathed slowly. He was spellbound at the sudden surprising sensation, and stood still while she started speaking.

“Orange is your favorite color, like the sky where you grew up. Except for the days when your favorite color is blue. You scratch the back of your mane when you’re pretending to not be flustered. You cry every time the plane takes off at the end of ‘Casabronco.’ It’s why I found you that lobby poster for your birthday. You hate pears.”

She shuddered.

“The Day you landed on in the Everfree Forest was the best day of my life, Doctor.”

He swallowed and gently moved out of the embrace to point at her with an uncertain hoof. There was a careful tenderness in his voice now.

“Listen, miss. Please help me. I’m trying to keep a low profile. I possibly just might have just prematurely destroyed an illegal experiment in the chemistry lab basement that would have killed everyone on campus.”

Ditzy giggled. “You always save me, don’t you?”

He coughed. “Be that as it may, you should find some nice stallion who’d want to take you home and… “

“Doctor,” she said with a longing look, “I know who I want to take me home.” She gingerly stepped closer as he backed away. “Please, if I look at all like a good pony, maybe a pony worth a short kindness, if you think the universe might owe me any happiness, just please give me a dance and pretend it means something.”

He drew a long breath. “I… I can’t dance.”

“You could learn.”

He grimaced. His hooves were screaming at his brain to run, but he ignored them. He self-consciously began scratching the back of his mane. “You look… beautiful. Stunning. I know places that would launch a thousand ships for you. But I have to run.”

She smiled. “I love that part. I could come with you. I bake banana muffins. I laugh at your jokes. I know basic Gallopfreyan quantum navigation.”

He sputtered in shock. “Wha… what? I… You… What?”

Ditzy tried to form a response. Suddenly she turned, hearing a commotion in the dance floor crowd.

Lyra swung Cheerilee around the dance floor in a majestic circle. They were both dancing on their back hooves, to the shock and confusion of everyone watching. Lyra’s eyes drank in the smile on Cheerilee’s face.

The unicorn started as her dance partner finally spoke. “Kiss me.”

Lyra nearly tripped. She cast a nervous glance around, her confidence suddenly far away. “I think lover-boy’s close. You’re going to get spotted if we… ”

Cheerilee pulled Lyra by her forelimbs until their faces almost touched. “Kiss me.”

“You don’t care if he sees? I mean, we mostly fit in around here at the moment. Think about it, 'Lee. I don’t want the world to see us, ‘cause I don’t think that they’d understand.” Lyra scanned the crowd. Most of the dance floor was their audience.

Cheerilee’s heart ached at the pensive reaction she had provoked in a mare that she’d never seen back down. She’s swallowing her pride for me. Smiling, she was even more convinced of her desires as she gently lifted Lyra’s head by placing both hooves delicately and deliberately on her partner’s chin.

I better get her to do this before I fall on my flank.

“Lyra,” she breathed out. “It’s not that I don’t care about what he sees, or what everyone else sees. I do care that ponies are watching.”

Lyra held her breath as the rest of the party finally turned their attention to the two stopped dancers in the middle of the floor whispering intently to each other.

“I really do care,” Cheerilee said with pleading eyes. “I can’t stand having you as my little secret anymore.”

She heard Lyra’s throat choke as the unicorn’s grip tightened on Cheerilee’s fore-hooves in uncertain panic.

“That’s why I want to kiss you right now while everypony’s watching me. They should finally see what I want.”

Cheerilee leaned forward, her mouth gingerly seeking Lyra’s lips. Lyra’s breath caught in her throat as she felt the familiar warmth. A sensation she felt daily and never took for granted found new meaning as the gasps of surprise around her sounded.

She closed her eyes, gripping her fore-limbs around Cheerilee’s back. The earth pony’s eyes widened as she nearly lost her balance in the un-pony-like pose. Lyra stood up straight, holding her lover up firmly as she drank in the moment with her eyes closed.

In that moment Cheerilee felt like she was suspended over the world, and only Lyra’s hooves kept her from falling. She threw her hooves around Lyra’s neck and held on for dear life, pulling her head back slightly to plant small kisses on the unicorn’s lips tenderly and gently.

“Love me,” she pleaded.

Lyra smiled through bleary eyes. “Forever,” she promised.

Caramel let his drinks fall out of his hooves, shattering on the floor. No one noticed.

Ditzy clapped, pounding her hooves on the floor as she felt the tears coming. Impulsively, she turned to the stallion next to him and pulled him close. Right before her mouth covered his she realized he was purple.

They both blinked.

“You’re not him,” she said. She was surprised at just how unsurprised she was.

He shrugged. “No. But I could be. You could keep going.” He gave a hopeful smile.

She nodded as she released him. “You’re cute. You go find someone, sir. There’s plenty of pretty mares around who’d want to get close to you.”

She walked to the window. As she looked at the sky the stallion gave one finally effort. “What do you want, miss?”

Ditzy turned to him with a sad smile. “I want him to notice when I’m not around.”

Outside, a security guard briefly investigated a strange noise that sounded out from where a small blue box was previously.

Outside the Magical Land of Equestria…
Inside the legendary Travelling Box, the chestnut-coated pony moved his hooves over the glowing console. As he adjusted his vessel’s course, he talked to himself.

“Pears. How could she know about the pears? Don’t mention pears. Ever.” He threw a lever in frustration. “Orange is a perfectly common favorite color. Anyone could have guessed that.”

The strange stallion stopped. “Lobby poster. Huh. Those are hard to come by.” He tapped his chin thoughtfully. “Comb! I need a comb. Where do you file combs? Maybe I do need a mare’s touch about the place.”

After pulling out a spanner, a melted popsicle, and a chunk of pop rocks from his shelves he found a silver comb. Running it through his mane produced an exclamation of victory and a single blond hair. The ancient traveler dropped the hair in a box on the console, flipped a few switches, and set his craft in motion.

“Everfree Forest, she said?”

Not too long ago, in the Magical Land of Equestria…
The grey filly sniffled as she leaned on the tree. She idly picked at the burrs that covered her blond mane. A howling in the distance drew her attention.

“Oh, fuzz apple reliable to being dew!” She started crying. Suddenly her head turned at a strange sound behind her.

Slowly creeping around the tree she saw a blue box in the clearing where she was sure none had previously occupied.
The doors of the box opened to reveal a brown pony wearing a disheveled tie and a manic grin. “You look lost, Miss.” He stepped towards her slowly, seeing the filly nearly bolt. “Did your friends leave you behind?”

“No.” She sniffled. “Those tomato five wonder wall space hogs… “ She hesitated, shivering. “They’re not my friends anymore.”

He nodded sympathetically. “Well, I happen to have a lift if you need one.” He gestured toward the box. “The Everfree Forest is an awfully dangerous place for a single filly.”

She carefully steeped out of his reach to pass him. Ditzy’s mouth dropped in wonder as the insides of the box came into view.

“It looks bigger on the inside than the outside. What’s in the box?”

He grinned. “What’s the things they never showed you?”

Ditzy chewed her tongue in worry. “I’m not supposed to go anywhere with a stranger.”

“Quite right. I may be a mad pony in a box, here to offer you candy.” He thoughtfully stopped and rummaged through the pockets of his trenchcoat. The strange stallion smiled as he produced a battered white bag and offered it to Ditzy. She sniffed it distrustfully. The young filly started to wretch.

Sniffing it himself, the traveler grimaced and cast it aside. “Mental note: get new jelly babies. See, little one? I’m absolutely terrible at offering children candy.”

Ditzy giggled. She looked at him in hesitation. The Doctor sighed. He knelt next to her.

“Look, little miss.” He pointed toward a nearby tree. “If you walk counter to how that moss grows on trees you’ll reach Ponyville in about two hours. See? There’s help. No need to take a risk on a strange stallion.”

Both ponies turned at a snuffling sound. A gigantic beast was examining the discarded bag of candy. A leonine head smelled the foul sugar sack suspiciously. Suddenly a goat head peered out behind the lion, staring straight at Ditzy and the Doctor.

“Mister, what is that thing doing?”

He grimaced. “It’s getting ready to pounce. You have two choices. You can fly off. It’s terrible at flying; you’d outpace it easily. You might even catch a view of Ponyville. That’s a rational, logical choice.”

A dragon head peered at them, licking its teeth.

“A-a-and the other choice, sir?”

He smiled as he stepped back onto his feet. “Come into the box.”

The beast screamed as it reared back. The Doctor ran into the open door. “Decide now, my dear!”

Ditzy gave a look back at the charging monster. “Cool.” She stuck her tongue out, and kicked off the ground as it drew its claw back for a swipe. Ditzy flew as fast as she could as the TARDIS doors closed behind her. She had decided to chase after the Doctor.

Chapter 3: The Kids Aren't Alright

Choices
By Paleo Prints
Chapter 3: The Kids Aren’t All Right

“Right in here, Mister Helpful Stranger!”

Ditzy happily trotted into the dorm while balancing a box of electronics on her head. With her eyes closed, the giggling mare couldn’t see the pile of laundry Lyra had left on the floor. Contented chuckles turned into squeals of fear as she lost her balance. The precious box pitched into the air as Ditzy slid sideways onto the floor, leaving a white trail of snow as she skid.

She saw the valuable parts hover suspended in the air. After a second, she realized someone was actually holding the box. Two well-worn white hooves gently placed it onto the table.

“Please be more Careful, Miss Doo. Small parts aren’t meant to fly.”

She nodded at the older stallion, reflecting on the lucky coincidence that placed him on campus today. “So, what are you doing around campus today, Mister…?”

“Decks. Picket Decks, Miss Doo. It really is a pleasure to meet you. I accompanied my granddaughter to lunch in Canterlot today.” The white-coated stallion smiled widely, and Ditzy marveled at the amount of original teeth he still had. “It was just luck that I spotted you walking back to the school.”

Ditzy smiled as she flew into the kitchen. “Well, by my count you earned a muffin. Is banana okay, Mister Decks?”

He sat down at the table. “Please, Miss Doo. A wonderful mare like you can call me Picket. I’ll take whatever you serve. I ate a lot of strange things growing up.” He respectfully picked up the small wooden TARDIS to examine as Ditzy busied herself in cooking.

“Where are you from, Picket?”

An amused smile crossed his face. “Oh, I come from a little village near Trottingham. You wouldn’t have heard of.”

While the food cooked Ditzy let the stack of mechanical parts sit untouched. She reclined on the couch as Decks engaged her in conversation. Topics ranged from her family to her student life, and he drew a blush when he asked if she had a special somepony yet. The oven dinged in what seemed like record time to Ditzy.

She ran into the kitchen expectantly. “Are you staying in town long, Mister Picket?”

He shook his head. “Only a few hours. My daughter’s expecting another foal this week. She’s determined to finally get a colt to name Pipsqueak.” He shivered. “Hopefully this’ll be her third girl.”

She brought the muffins out with a downcast expression. “Oh. I have a demonstration I’m doing on Friday.” Her eyes raised hopefully.

Decks exhaled a breath with an amused smile. “I’ll see if I can make it back to town in time.”

Ditzy’s entire body perked up. “Really? Because it’s so very important and I might get a career out of this and you’ve been so helpful and… “

He silenced her with a gently raised hoof. “I’ll be there. Trust me, Miss Doo. When I put my mind to it, nothing can stop me.”

The moment hung in the air as Ditzy appreciated her guest’s genuine smile of joy. Her ears suddenly straightened to attention as the door clicked open. A flapping pink tail pulled itself into view as a straining Cheerilee dragged a mall cart inside. Having pulled it fully inside, she collapsed on her haunches into a pile of exhausted mane and checkered flannel. She cast an amused look at Ditzy.

“That doesn’t look like the stallion from Nightmare Night that Lyra described.”

Ditzy giggled. “This is Mister Decks! He helped me carry all the packages in for my demonstration.”

Cheerilee raised an incredulous eyebrow. She pulled her single headphone out of her ear. Ditzy gave a quick gasp; her roommate only silenced her perpetual soundtrack for serious occasions. The prone earth pony’s face was a mess of sweat and frustration. Ditzy’s wings stopped flapping as she sunk into her seat.

“I forgot something, didn’t I? Do I deserve to get yelled at? I probably do if you look like that.”

Cheerilee pulled herself up. With a brief effort a mask of calm happiness settled on her features. “Ditzy, what time is it?

“Three O’clock,” she said with the eyes of a nervous schoolfoal.

Cheerilee sighed. “Three what, dear?”

A look of embarrassed realization crept across Ditzy’s features as she examined the clock. “Um… three A.M.?”

“And… what time was it when you left for your lab supplies?”

Ditzy chewed her bottom lip and pawed the ground. With head hung low, she spoke with the somberness of a guilty verdict. “Three A.M.”

Cheerilee shivered. Throughout the exchange, Picket had been regarding her with cool detachment. Now that Ditzy was visibly upset, his narrowed eyes were boring a hole into Cheerilee’s face. She tried to ignore them as she pulled herself onto her hooves with effort.

“Ditz’, that clock’s been stuck like that for days. We were going to have that picnic today, remember? And you were supposed to fix the clock?

“I was?” The forgetful techie’s eyes spun. “I was! I know. I keep getting ready and writing it down in my appointment book, but… “

Cheerilee’s eyebrow rose quizzically

“Um… I think I always schedule it for about four, and then I get busy, and I keep glancing at the clock, and… “

Ditzy fell onto her stomach, legs spreading out.

“I am not a clever pony.”

Cheerilee ruffled her roommate’s mane. “Ditzy, you made our toaster pick up Neon Lights’ radio show. You are a very clever pony. Just try to be a little more organized next time.”

The meek pegasus looked up tentatively. “Is it really okay? You would have been waiting for about fifty-seven minutes, right?”

Cheerilee ground her teeth briefly before hugging her roommate. “I’m used to the special way your head works, Doo. I wouldn’t change it for the world.” She gently pushed Ditzy away. “Shall we go? I'll help you make a snow stallion.”

A gray ball of cooking energy flew into the kitchen. Cheerilee shook her head. “I worry about that mare.”

Picket smiled. ““It’ll all work out for her, ma’am.” He raised his hat to her and bowed as he trotted out of the room. “I’m certain of it.”

After a few minutes of overfilling the small cart with baked goods the two friends pulled it toward the common landing. As Cheerilee inspected the overfull cart and the stairs with trepidation, Ditzy asked, “Is Lyra joining us?”

Cheerilee shook her head as she walked backwards down the stairs, carefully lowering the wagon. “Nope. She’s got a major performance test today. She said she’d be in the music building all day.” Suddenly the wagon nearly slipped, drawing a terrified shriek from the precarious teacher pony. She sighed in frustration. “How does something with a flat bottom navigate stairs?”

Ditzy frowned. “Normally they hover.” Her eyes lit up. “That’s an idea!” She flew over the cart, grabbing the sides with both hooves. Cheerilee wordlessly shrieked as Ditzy carried both cart and roommate over the bannister. Ditzy’s reluctant cargo looked down, seeing the amused reaction of the ponies in the common room a dozen hoofs below her.

Heedless of the impending power of gravity, Ditzy hovered in place, happily chirping out “Elevate! Elevate!”

Cheerilee’s eyes were soundly shut as she screamed, “Ditzy Doo, let me down now!”

Giggles sounded from around her. “’Lee? You’re kinda on the floor already.”

Cheerilee experimentally lowered a hoof and felt the reassurance of solid ground. Letting loose a long breath, she gingerly moved the cart to the floor.

Ditzy beamed. “These cart thingies are fun!”

Her friend shook her head. “I thought so. Maybe I’ll go back to saddlebags.”

As the two mares walked off towards the gardens, Picket’s voice rang out. “Miss Doo!”

She saw him sitting on a nearby bench. “Picket, were you waiting for me?”

He smiled. “Do what you want. Miss Doo.”

She cocked her head. “I’m going to the picnic.”

Picket shook his head.

She frowned. “I shouldn’t go to the picnic?”

He stood up and bowed. “I mean that you have a lot of choices to make. Different paths will fall in front of you as time marches on. Do what you want. Life’s too short for us ponies.”

At the moment that Cheerilee and Ditzy’s picnic began, Lyra was not in point of fact at the Canterlot Music Building. If pressed by professional interrogators, she might have admitted that she had narrowed the location of the Music Department down to three buildings. Having never signed up for a single class, the information was somewhat irrelevant. If pressed to reveal that fact in front of Cheerilee, her interrogators would have hopefully used very strong rope. Barring that, they would be well served to run fast.

Lyra was playing a gentle melody on a Canterlot corner. A few denizens of the nearby café tables were slightly moving their hooves to the melody, a sight filled with the promise of future bits thrown into her saddlebags. The breeze was soft, the snowflakes inspiring, her tips were good today, and the busy busker found herself in her rarest type of good mood: a solitary one.

“Well. How utterly appropriate to find you working the streets. A different vocation than expected, I must admit.”

Lyra’s brow furrowed. She switched to a lighter piece easily played without too much concentration as she turned to the voice behind her.

Got to stay calm. No one tips an angry musician. Think of Cheerilee.

“Good afternoon, father. How is mother doing?”

A dour gray stallion sat on his haunches behind her and adjusted his bow tie. She noticed his hair was perfectly parted, as always. Her family’s money had always been used for appearances.

Jazz Heartstrings smiled joylessly as he looked into his daughter’s eyes. “Well, I haven’t seen her recently. I hear that the newly single Miss Strawberry Lime is one of the up-and-coming social climbers of Canterlot society now. She works hard to make connections. Personally, I hope her saddle holds out,” he said ruefully.

Lyra plucked as string with slightly more forced that necessary. She scanned to see if any of her audience noticed. “That was cheap, Dad.”

He shrugged. “So was she. It’s interesting to see you become defensive of your family. You could have occasionally visited, you know. I could better deal with the ignominy of being a private music teacher better with two daughters keeping me company. Ballad really helped me through losing my position at Celestia’s Academy. You really should talk with your sister more.”

A smirk greeted his remark. “What, so she can finish my sentences? Dad, it’s just… weird.”

Jazz walked in front of Lyra with a quizzical look. “Why? Is it weird because you have a twin with same cutie mark?” A sardonic grin punctuated his words. “Perhaps it’s because she’s so much more successful. She has a great songwriting position, a cheerful attitude, and a lovely boyfriend. You should meet him. He might have a brother.”

Her shoulders hunched. As the notes slightly deepened, one or two nearby listeners stopped unconsciously tapping along. There goes tonight’s nice dinner for ‘Lee.

“Of course,” he continued, “your mother always tried to impress upon you how unique you were. Sometimes I think that’s why you retreated into that ‘human’ nonsense.”

A string almost snapped. She put down her instrument. “I am special, Father. I finally have somepony that sees it that way.”

A smidgeon of hope rose in his eyes. “Ah. And does this special somepony have both money and the capacity to produce an heir?”

“One day you’ll find that you’re a slave to money, Dad. Then you’ll die, most likely.” Lyra ran her hoof down the edge of her instrument. “She’s got money.”

He smiled. “Excellent! Keep her around and find someone to marry one of you. That’ll perk the family coffers right up.”

Lyra stepped a pace closer, putting her nose-to-nose with her father. “I want to be with her and her alone, Dad! My marriage isn’t going to be one of convenience.”

He gave an offended snort as a few nervous doorponies started to eye the escalating public squabble with alarm.

“My marriage made your life exceptionally convenient, dear daughter. Besides, you’ve never had the head for all that bigger picture stuff. Well Lyra, that’s what I do. I plan on you raising the family back to where… “

“I bought the ring, Dad!”

No response came out of a mouth struggling to find words. With her father suddenly flabbergasted, she continued.

“I bought the ring. It took me months to busk and save for it. As soon as I work up the courage I’m going to propose.”

A contemplative nod was his first response before a look of realization dawned. “Would she marry a street performer?”

Lyra scratched her mane in a gesture unknown to her before she started hanging with Ditzy. “Cheerilee thinks I’m going to the musician’s college, Dad. I really will, one of these days.”

“So, you’ll move in while claiming to go to school?” Jazz smiled victoriously. “That’ll work great in the long run. Once you’re willing to lie about something this big, you won’t stop. The lies will snowball. She’ll ask for work stories, pictures, office parties and such. How long do you think you can live with somepony and lie to them every day of your life together?”

“How long were you with Mom?”

He snorted as he pawed the ground. “You ungrateful wretch. I gave my up dreams for the happiness of this family. All you can think of is yourself.”

Lyra slowly placed her harp on the ground. A scream struggled in her throat, but only tears came out. “I want to be happy, Dad. Even when we had money we were never happy, just a well-cared for. She’s the only one who makes me happy.”

Jazz sat down on the step next to his daughter. He regarded Lyra with a look of incomprehension. For a second a flash of anger showed on his face before a sigh escaped. “I wonder if you really understand how happy it made me to have my daughters well-cared for.”

Silence reigned for several minutes. Somepony walked by and dropped a coin into the sack for inscrutable reasons. The soft clink of coin drew Lyra out of her contemplation. “Father, did you ever have someone you truly cared for?”

“Aside from my daughters?” He paused. “Yes. Yes, there was.”

Lyra hesitated. This was a part of her father’s life she had never heard of. “What happened to her?”

Jazz snorted and looked to the side. “Her husband died last week. We hope to be married within the month.” He turned his back to Lyra as he walked away. “And if I had chased my dreams back then, you wouldn’t exist. Ponder that, my daughter.”

The Canterlot Gardens Park was filled with active families. The sheer size acted as a noise buffer, separating loud groups by enough distance to muffle their sounds. Cheerilee felt like someone had turned down the Equestria’s volume, making the rest of her world less real. She sat with Ditzy under the shade of a jamberry tree.

Ditzy rested, nibbling something soft and squishy that had fallen onto her. She looked up at her roommate in anticipation.

“So, what happened after Lyra threw the drink?”

Cheerilee hugged herself as she leaned back onto the tree trunk. Her eyes were far away as she spoke. “She kicked the stupid little buck onto the dance floor. She flailed a bit in the booze puddle before taking a faceful of Appletini.”

Ditzy’s eyes widened. A chuckle encountered her jamfruit on the way out, nearly choking her. She spit out squidgy blue bits over the blanket uncontrollably. Cheerilee patted her friend’s mane slowly, waiting for her to recover.

“Cheerilee?”

Cheerilee frowned at the worry in Ditzy’s voice. She looked down with curiosity. The relaxed pegasus had an expression of concern on her face mixed with tiny bits of jam. Can she do this on purpose, or does she just trips into adorableness? Cheerilee signaled her attention with a nod.

Ditzy cleared her throat. “Lyra stories are always fun. I just kinda notice that the ‘We did something crazy’ bits are getting a little less party and a lot more punchy-kicky lately.”

The young teacher sighed. “That’s been happening since Nightmare Night. I don’t know whether ponies are looking for us or Lyra’s looking for confrontation.” She chewed her lip while wrapping words around her emotional core.

“Ditzy, have you ever been drawn to someone who you couldn’t stop or slow down? Have you ever fallen in love with somepony who’s a force of nature?”

Ditzy’s answer came in small snores. Cheerilee grinned. She continued to run her hoof down her friend’s mane as she watched. As silent minutes passed, she watched families play.

“You like watching the little fillies, Miss?”

She started at the voice, causing Ditzy mumbled in her sleep at the jostling. Cheerilee turned to the chestnut stallion sitting next to her. He smiled warmly as she returned the gesture uncomfortably.

“Um… “

He suddenly scratched his mane nervously. “Not like that. I mean, watching them. You know, looking over them. Keeping an eye.”

She moved her head back and forth noncommittally. “I like helping kids. I guess I just can’t stop myself from watching out just a little.”

He shrugged, looking away. “Well, then… who’s the most likely to hurt themselves?”

“The, um… ” She couldn’t think of an appropriate description. “The lavender unicorn over there. Her mom doesn’t notice her fascination with the pointy knight statue.”

“Ah. The saddest one, then?”

“The little pink pegasus girl two picnics away has been trying to get her father’s attention for a half an hour.”

“The one that needs the most help?”

Cheerilee scanned the park with serious eyes. Her lips moved as she worked out relationships and consequences. After a space of time, she turned to the strange pony for an answer.

In response, he picked up her headphones. “What’ve you got on here? Neighvana? Smashing Apples? Stone Temple Pegasi?”

An embarrassed hoof grabbed the headphones. “It’s… um… it’s ‘Mares Just want to Have Fun.’ I know, it’s a little childish, but…”

“No! No, no, no! Don’t apologize for being childish, ever. What’s the fun of being grown up if we can’t act childish every so often?” He placed a reassuring hoof on hers. “If the music is a part of you, keep it there even if it isn’t the ‘in’ thing. Or the ‘out’ thing. Some kind of ‘thing’ thing, direction implied.”

Cheerilee giggled. “I notice you have an hourglass on your flank.” She gestured toward the snoozing Ditzy. “She’s yours, isn’t she?”

“What? No! Well, maybe. Well, I guess we haven’t decided who is whose yet. We care for each other a lot. We worry. We try to stop either getting hurt.” His voice lowered with emphasis. “She makes me clean things sometimes.”

Cheerilee nodded. She pointed at Ditzy’s mane with her hoof. “Care to take over?”

He looked down at the sleeping mare. Cheerilee saw the hints of an old internal argument flare up. “I’d give up forever to touch her.”

She nodded. “She’s a special mare. Please don’t hurt her.”

The stallion lost his mirth. “If I did that, I think the world just might stop spinning. The world’s going to hurt her, though. It’s what happens. Everybody hurts sometimes. All I can do is try to help her afterwards. Miss, you can’t protect everyone, every the ones you care for most.”

Cheerilee sighed. “I don’t know what I’d do if I hurt mine. How can I exist without her?”

“Doctor, your tie is a mess.”

They both jumped at Ditzy’s words. She pulled herself to her hooves with a wide yawn and then launched herself at the stallion, pulling him to the ground around by the neck.

“Miss Doo, this may be a little improper.”

She pushed his nose gently. “Shhh. Tie.”

Cheerilee watched the two ponies. As she looped the fabric, Ditzy’s face was a mask of concentration, and the Doctor never took his eyes off of her. They both sat up after a moment.

Ditzy gave him an approving nod. “Doctor, what are you doing here?”

He shrugged. “There’s a… struggle going on in Snowhwon on Lankhmar Six.” He eyed Cheerilee carefully. “Out in the country. In Equestria. I was kind of maybe but not really acting as an unofficial mediator. I needed to travel for a second, so I stopped here.”

She smirked. “You have the time?”

He spread his hooves out. “All’s I got is time. Care to come along?”

Ditzy became very quiet. Cheerilee nodded violently behind the Doctor’s back, staring at Ditzy imploringly.

“Doctor,” Ditzy began carefully. “Will we miss Friday?”

He shrugged. “No, never! When was the last time I… ” He grimaced. “Oh.”

“Doctor, I have a chance to prove myself to everypony. I can show my parents I’m not crazy.”

Cheerilee cocked her head. “Why do they think you’re crazy?”

Both Ditzy and the Doctor turned in unison to say, “It’s a long story.” They broke out into giggles.

He stood. “Well, in that case… “

“No.”

The both looked at Cheerilee. She crossed her hooves. “Doctor, you’re not leaving right now. You’re going to spend some time with her first. Go walk around the lake for a while.”

He raised a hoof as he started to protest. Cheerilee inclined her stare forward, pre-emptively silencing his objections as they stood eye-to-eye.

He shrugged. “Studying to be a teacher, indeed. Well, Miss Doo, shall we?”

Ditzy clapped. “Really?”

The Doctor nodded. “Make up your mind. Decided to walk with me around the lake today?”

She bounced into the aim, hovering with anticipation. “I’ll take a rain check on the travelling. Just let me stay until Friday.”

He hooked his hoof around her limb. “Check? Never been good with checks. Money’s rubbish. You always did like rain, though.”

She leaned her head into him. “I like watching the puddles gather it. Oh, that reminds me! Lankhmar Six is cold. We’ll swing by my dorm and I’ll get you a raincoat.”

Cheerilee shook her head at the couple walking off. “There’s two of them?”

Clockwork hunched over her engineering textbooks. She was huddling over the table, casting nervous looks toward the school library’s windows. The mare hadn’t noticed that she had copied the same text twice.

“So, what is my wonderful girlfriend doing today?”

Clockwork’s heart jumped at the voice. Turning around she found Starshine leaning against the shelf behind her. He boasted a smug look. She was certain that he thought it was attractive.

“What do you want?” Her eyes closed as she dropped the pencil. It rolled off the desk, unobserved into obscurity.

Starshine grinned as he levitated a seat into place. Other students gave him nasty glances and imploring shushes. He ignored both.

“My parents were sorry that you had to leave the restaurant early last night. I told them how deeply emotional you are about us. I think they believe me.”

Clockwork turned her head upward. “Why?”

Starshine stretched. His hooves snapped the unseen pencil.

“Well, I think they like you. A plucky, individualistic engineer and a noble? It’s a little romantic, although I think they wonder if the Canterlot social life will wear you down.”

She glared at him, teeth gritted. “I just want out of whatever this is.”

A predatory smile flashed back at her. It scooted closer and whispered into her ear, the warm and wet breath leaving moist violations on her coat.

“I can tell my parents we broke up. I just need one more favor, dear.”

Clockwork raised her head and blinked. “I’ll do it.”

He nodded. “Well, I understand Ditzy is giving her presentation tomorrow. I’d love to get a preview of her project. Can you get me into the engineering storage, girlfriend?”

The floor seemed to fall out beneath Clockwork. “No. Not Ditzy.”

“I know, she fooled everyone. In the beginning, she seemed a harmless little buck. But Free Radical unleashed the manticore by giving her free reign. She’s a danger to everyone around her, and I think a career-related embarrassment at this stage might do everyone else some good.”

Clockwork shook her teary head.

“Or,” Starshine said contemplatively, “we could make plans for joining my family on their vacation. It might be romantic.”

“Well, I’m excited to be here today. I know the rest of you wouldn’t be here if you weren’t excited and I didn’t grade attendance. Let’s have a hoof for Ditzy Doo!”

Free Radical clapped as Ditzy rose to nervous applause. She flapped proudly onto the stage, swaying into an unsteady landing. She giggled in a mix of nervousness and glee.

In the back row Starshine leaned back against his chair. Red Shift clapped onto the floor in excitement. “This is going to be a show!”

He grinned. “I know. I brought my camera.”

Ditzy spoke to the audience, but most were looking at the gigantic piece of hardware that dominated the stage. It was covered in wires and lights, terminating into a silver antenna. Odds and ends peaked out from between parts of it. Some pinball wiring was still connected to a push button and a few game lights.

“Um… ” Free Radical scratched his stubble. “What does it do?”

Ditzy adjusted some of the spinners and twists. “This machine is going to channel the ambient potential arcane energy of the room and the latent quark spin of our atoms into tangible effects.”

Professor Radical squinted. “And that tangible effect will be…?”

She hummed as the machine woke to glowing life. “Well, every unicorn in here should start levitating. That’s just the first effect.”

Red Shift bounced up in down in her seat. She turned to Clockwork, who had been sitting in the back more since the social grapevine started buzzing about her apparent relationship with Starshine. “This is going to be a great show. Should we get closer seats?”

Clockwork wiped something out of her eye. “This is probably the best row in the house for this.”

“Thank you everypony for being here today! Thanks to Professor Radical for all the help. I was supported by a lot of ponies here today. I see Mister Picket and my roomie in the fifth row. Hello! Thankie’s go extra-specially to Clockwork for all of her help this semester.”

Red Shift caressed Clockwork’s shoulder as the emotional unicorn put her head in her hooves. “Come on, you should watch this. It’s so awesome that you helped make this happen.”

Starshine snorted. Clockwork sobbed.

The machine came to life. Colorful lights played around the antenna as everypony for three buildings felt their coats rise from the static electricity. Ditzy flittered from station to station, gently singing to herself as a few first row spectators rose inches into the air.

“And now, if everypony will draw their attention to the huon energy stabilizer, I promise you’ll see… ”

Ditzy stopped. She opened a panel with a trembling hoof.

“Huh. I checked it last night. How did the stabilizer get detached?”

The words hung uncomfortably in the air until every chalkboard in the lecture hall shattered outwards. The audience held its breath until a stray bolt of white light flashed out, incinerating a notebook in the third row. The scream started shortly afterwards.

Cheerilee started in her seat. Picket Decks placed a steady hoof on her shoulder. “Careful, Miss. She needs to concentrate now. ”

Wind spiraled around the device from out of nowhere, sending a cascade of papers into the air. Ditzy hovered upside down, scanning dials of the machine. A practiced calm under pressure kept her face steady. “Well, I need to reverse this.”
Free Radical adjusted his glasses, wishing they were made of safety plastic and possibly sitting on his nose behind a lead sheet. “Miss Doo, you can’t reverse an energetic reaction of that magnitude.”

Ditzy’s grabbed two of the power conduits. Her tongue stuck out of her mouth in thought. In contrast, the majority of the class was already shrieking in fear as smoke billowed out of the bottom of the machine. One terrified upperclass-stallion tore the window out of its frame telekinetically and leapt out of the classroom to the garden below.

Free Radical nearly fainted at the sight of thousands of bits of equipment slowly immolating itself. “Miss Doo, give me a solution.”

“Bubble hypoxic crab battle.”

He stamped his front hoof. “Miss Doo, it would be wonderful if you could make bucking sense right now!”

Ditzy remained unperturbed as she turned and smiled at Radical. “Professor, this is standard for a Firefly Fusion Reaction. I have to establish a nice even preon flow. Just pass me two teaspoons of Buckminster Spheres and it’ll be fine.”

As a particularly flaky grad student fainted the professor suddenly lost his interest in the smoke and noise. “You need what? I’ve never even heard of any such substance.”

Ditzy’s brow furrowed. “Um… I need two teaspoons of Buckminster Flash’s carbon nanoballs. You know, his greatest invention?”

The professor blinked. “Buckminister Flash is the terrified freshpony cowering under his desk in the front row.”

She turned to look at a trembling earth pony covering his eyes underneath his wooden sanctuary. “Whoah. He didn’t have hair on his Stable Prize photo.” She smacked her head. “Timey-wimey, Ditzy. Why didn’t I check a calendar? I guess the only thing to do is this.” She stuck both forehooves and her head into the aperture.

Starshine’s eye went wide. “This may be her final presentation.”

“Oh, no.” Clockwork ran out from safety of the back row, past the screaming forms of Red Shift and Blue Shift. As she barreled down the aisle she threw a stallion frozen in fear to the side with her telekinesis. Leaping onto the stage, she grabbed onto Ditzy flanks with both hooves. “Sweet Celestia, don’t stick your head in there!” She shut her eyes as she pulled. “They’ll have to bury you in a hatbox.”

Suddenly a puff of noxious smoke flew out of the vents on the device. Ditzy brought a sooty mane out of the guts of the machine. She scratched behind her mane as she grinned in embarrassment. “No problem. I shut my first one of these off before I got my cutie mark. You’ll just need to pick up a new Clopworth Destabilizer for the engineering department, though.”

As the Professor’s eyes widened Ditzy frowned. “Oh, Professor. I guess you can’t pick up one of those at the corner store yet, eh?”

As she shivered while looking into the livid features of her instructor, Starshine snapped a picture.

Jazz whistled as he walked into the unfamiliar dorm room. A listener with a slight musical inclination would have recognized the traditional wedding march. Someone with a stronger musical inclination would have remembered that the scene after the march involved the death of the couple, and shivered at the look in Jazz’s eyes.

He examined the room, finding nothing of his daughter’s personality in it. There were records, of course, and musical paraphernalia aplenty. Jazz expected to find pictures and furniture in odd places, covering holes kicked into the walls.

A gray winged stallion in shades exited the restroom and extended a hoof. “Hey there! You must be the other dad in the room. It’s great to meet the other guy responsible for our little team. You here for the little wonderworker’s presentation, too? We may be a little late; I just got here.”

He advanced on Jazz, who shook his hoof out of more fear than friendliness. “Of… course. I’m the father of… “

He breathed out harshly as the ebullient flyer slammed him hard on the back. “Great! Smooth Storm! I’m happy to interview the coach behind the girl who backs my little filly’s plays. I brought cider. Drink!”

Jazz gripped the offered mug for dear life as Storm pushed him backwards onto the couch. The startled musician stared down into the unfamiliar beverage. “This is… cider? I suppose I can try something new.”

Seconds later Jazz was on the floor gagging as multicolored light spat out of his mouth. Storm quaked with laughter.
“C’mon, don’t be a lightweight! That’s Rainbow Rider Cider right there. The rainbows will put streaks in your coat, buddy!” Storm briefly lifted his sunglasses. “Say, are you okay? You’re rolling around on the floor an awful lot, buddy. You pull a muscle or something?”

Jazz spat out something purple and steadied himself. “I am not okay. Ponies rolling around on this floor happens to be the exact reason why I’m here.”

Storm blinked. “You wanna play Twister or something? We could wait for the girls to get back to make teams.” He rubbed Jazz’s expensive haircut out of existence. “My nimble little Muffin’s going to be on my team.”

Jazz kicked the mug across the room. Storm became still as it shattered against the wall. He had seen enough celebrity tantrums to know that they had to be ridden out.

“Good sir,” Jazz spat out, “which ‘teams’ our daughter are on is exactly why I’m here. Didn’t you know?”

Storm shook his head. “Buddy, I got no idea what you mean.”

Jazz stared. “You don’t know that our daughters are involved.”

Storm’s sunglasses and thought processes remained opaque to Jazz. “You gonna write a diagram, or what?”

The exasperated musician pawed the ground. “Our daughters are romantically involved.” He eagerly waited for the resulting explosion.

A few seconds passed. Storm gestured towards the kitchen. “So, are you going to clean up the mug or should I?”

Jazz worked to restart his thought process. “That’s your concern?” He saw the pegasus retreat toward the kitchen. “That’s the over-riding worry?”

Storm walked out with a washcloth in his mouth and dropped it onto the stain. “Well, Rainbow Rider tends to stain. Trust me, I’ve seen plenty of athletes ruin hotel rooms.”

“So, while our daughters engage in the love that dares not whinny its name, you clean the floor.”

Storm nodded. “Whoever she’s dating, she’s got a security deposit on the room. You know what? I’m gonna go get some vinegar. That works.”

Jazz rushed to Storm’s side and roughly grabbed his forelimbs. “Sir, I have no idea how you can remain calm while our daughters besmirch our family honor and goals.”

Storm turned back. His hard eyes poked over his shades and sent chills down Jazz’s spine.

“I know three things, buddy. One, I know your daughter will treat her right. She’s a great person from what I hear, and my girl needs someone strong to take care of her. She’s got some problems that it’ll take a good pony to face.”

Storm moved his face inches away from his terrified captive.

“Secondly, I work in the athletics entertainment industry. Sir, I have a sense of perspective about these things. I’m keeping some of the antics I’ve seen at the Wonderbolts’ after-parties to my grave.”

Jazz tried to speak, but found his voice to be as rebellious as his daughter.

“Finally, I know very many good sport trainers, and I know what’s I’m able and willing to do if you still have your hoof on me when I count to three.” He pushed his shades back into place. “One, by the way.”

Jazz drew back a hoof. “You’re crazy.”

Storm’s cheerfulness instantly returned. “Crazy’s not bad every once in a while. My wife once thought she could get radio signals from her fillings. Here, I’m gonna pass you the vinegar.”

The door to the dorm slammed open. Jazz jumped back several feet at the sound, spilling a cup of vinegar all over the floor.

Storm shook his head. “No buddy, you have to dilute the vinegar to get out cider stains.” He turned to the door where a quivering Ditzy held in tears. “Ditzy? What happened, Ditzy? Did you argue with the little flower girl I heard you shacked up with?”

Jazz gaped at the newcomer. “Wait, I thought you were Cheerilee’s father.”

Storm ignored Jazz as Ditzy threw herself into her father’s embrace. He noticed her mane was disheveled and her eyes were shot with red. “Did something happen, Muffin? I missed the presentation, didn’t I?”

Ditzy looking into her father’s eyes. “Dad,” she said with a cracking voice, “I just don’t know what went wrong.” She buried her face into his coat, sobbing incoherently.

Jazz sat uncomfortably until the door moved open again. A new mare walked in the room. The out-of-breath mare walked over to Ditzy and joined in the hug.

“Ah, that’s more like it!” He leaned forward. “Miss Cheerilee, I presume?”

Lyra whistled happily as she trotted up the stairs of the dorm. She surmounted the stairs, pausing as she spotted the closed door.

A small, velvet box levitated out of her saddlebags. She regarded the little package with hope and trepidation. Lyra gave a decisive nod as she placed it back in the saddlebags.

“Well, I don’t know if I’ve ever been good enough,” she said to no one. “I guess it’s time to find out.”

Lyra barreled down the hallway. “Cheerilee, you home? I’ve got something I need to ask you about. It’s kinda important.”

Lyra’s smile shattered as she pushed open the apartment door. Cheerilee looked back from the couch with puffy eyes. Jazz sat next to her, gloating silently. Before Lyra could respond, Jazz levitated a small sack of coins.

“You were so upset you left these on your street corner.”

Lyra felt the world drop out from underneath as she saw the betrayal in Cheerilee’s gaze. Cheerilee was only able to squeak out Lyra’s name before her marefriend ran into the bathroom, shutting the door. A scream of inarticulate rage sounded from inside.

Jazz shrugged. “Well, I guess it’s a good idea that Mister Storm took his daughter elsewhere for the moment. That wouldn’t have helped Miss Doo’s mood any.”

Cheerilee flashed a dark look before moving to the bathroom door. “Lyra, please let me help. We have to talk about this.”
After a second of quiet, Lyra responded in an emotionless tone. “I… I am just a worthless liar.” Inside the bathroom, Lyra placed her forelimb on the counter. Staring at it with disgust, she bit down on it until she drew blood, screaming into her flesh all the while. By now she was shrieking at the top of her lungs. “I’m just an imbecile!”

The noises she heard horrified Cheerilee. She turned back to Jazz. “Your daughter’s in pain. Help me!”

He shrugged, standing up and moving toward the door. “She’s been destroying herself for years. I’ve long since given up on stopping her.”

Cheerilee dropped unto her stomach sobbing as she heard a door close with finality.

Chapter 5: Freshmares

Choices
By Paleo Prints
Chapter 5: Freshmares

Cheerilee pushed open her dorm room’s door with a sigh. She trotted inside slowly, using one hoof to lean on the nearby walls. Falling onto her hindlegs in front of the couch she divested herself of her jacket and rested her head on a sofa pillow. She briefly felt thankful for the coming of spring. The last few weeks may been filled with avoiding her marefriend's emotional minefield, but at least she didn't get snow in her cart anymore.

That’s when the room went dark.

"Lyra?" She realized now that all the blinds had been closed. Slowly rising to her hooves she scanned the blackness. “Ditzy?”

The breath left Cheerilee as a pony tackled her from the side, pinning her against her roommate’s work table. Cheerilee almost screamed before a soft muzzle began kissing her on the nose.

“Um, Lyra? What are you doing?” She tried to wiggle away from the shifting furniture.

She could hear the smile in Lyra’s voice as her marefriend finally spoke. “What are we supposed to do? Well, the light’s out… ”

Cheerilee tried to shift her weight as she felt the table leg give against the weight of the two mares. “This is… mmph… dangerous.”

Lyra giggled. “Really? You know, I kind of like… ”

The end of the sentence remained forever in question as something fell off of Ditzy Doo’s worktable. Hitting the ground it came alive, flashing the room with many-colored lights as it blared alarm klaxons. Lyra kicked off of Cheerilee in panic as her marefriend reached out and grabbed the device. The startled musician ran for a light switch.

Illumination only seemed to bring more worries, as the device in Cheerilee’s lap was starting to visibly heat up.

Lyra wrenched the front door open. “’Lee, drop the damn thing!” Cold sweat dripped off of her forehead.

Cheerilee paused for a second and depressed the top of the device. The cacophonous contraption silenced itself. She breathed a long sigh of relief.

Lyra trotted to the couch and gave the quiet machine a suspicious look. She spread the look to her marefriend. “How did you possibly know how to do that,” she inquired while lying flat as if taking cover.

Cheerilee giggled as she waved the device in the air. “It’s Ditzy Doo’s, remember! That means it’s made out of extra appliances and junk, right?”

Lyra nodded nervously as Cheerilee turned the top to her for inspection.

“It has a snooze button.”

Slowly a gentle mint hoof poked the mysterious gadget. She gave it a distrustful look as she levitated it back onto the table. After slowly locking eyes with Cheerilee the pair stared at each other in silence for several seconds before erupting into laughter.

“Well,” Cheerilee forced out between chuckles, “I expect that killed the mood.”

Lyra lowered herself to the floor, resting her head on Cheerilee. “A bit.”

Cheerilee ran her hoof along Lyra’s downy neck. “So, how was class today?”

Instantly Lyra sprang up, trotting to the kitchen. “Checking on me? That’s the first thing that always comes to your mind,” she snorted. “It was fine. I’m doing fine.”

“Wait!” Cheerilee stood up from her position with a painful grunt. “I just want to know what your life is like.”

Lyra’s head disappeared into the fridge, reemerging with a bottle of Coroana. As Cheerilee entered the kitchen Lyra left. “That’s right, because you never harp on me to keep going to music class.”

“Please,” Cheerilee breathed out worriedly. “I want you to succeed. You have so many opportunities I never had. If I can just help you... ”

“Don’t push so hard!” Lyra screamed at a stunned Cheerilee. “I have had ponies yelling about my opportunities all my life. I came here to forget about that.” Lyra took a long swig of her drink.

Cheerilee wavered, leaning against the back of the kitchen. Lyra’s eyes filled with tears as she saw the hurt shock in her marefriend’s eyes. She dropped the half-empty bottle and it left a wet trail as it rolled against the couch.

“I’m sorry. You just reminded me of my dad for a second.”

Lyra stared at the pool of alcohol as Cheerilee cautiously approached her. “I-I don’t want to do this again, Lyra. Please. I just want the best for you.” Her voice quavered with effort. “T-he best for us. And t-his talent that you take for granted, it's a gift from Celestia. Don't pass it up… ”

“Really?” Lyra gave Cheerilee an angry scowl. “I don’t want to start any blasphemous rumors but I think Celestia’s got a sick sense of humor.” She galloped out of the room. For one last second in the hallway, she turned back with a sneer.

“You just couldn’t drop it, could you?”

As she ran out of sight, Cheerilee moved to follow. As the sounds of her lover's hooves retreated suddenly the mechanical noisemaker started up again. Shocked at the piercing wail, she turned in fear to see it burning a hole in the table. She ran to the device and pressed the top button again, once again stopping it.

“Snooze button,” Cheerilee said with a smirk. She gave a single genuine laugh before putting her forelimbs on the table and crying into them.

Ditzy Doo shuffled nervously on the stool in Free Radical’s office. She cast an occasional glance at the mix of engineering schematics and pin-up pictures that covered the walls. Earlier in the semester a student had complained about the sexism she felt while being surrounded by attractive young mares provocatively posing in socks. As a response, Radical had posted up every month of the Canterlot Fire Department’s “Stallions in Socks” calendar. Ditzy thought she could make out some very interesting accidental uses of composition.

“So,” he said, snapping Ditzy out of her reverie, “Let’s discuss your proposal.”

She saluted, missing and hitting herself. Slightly put out at herself, she dropped her gaze.

“Let’s talk about your previous display. When I say it was the most demeaning moment of my educational career, I’m elevating it above some nasty near-accidents. I have never had students run screaming from my room in terror before.”

Ditzy raised her now-bleary eyes, venturing a slight smile. “Never?” she asked, barely above a whisper.

Radical’s stern face cracked. “Pranks involving fake fusion reactors don’t count. Ditzy Doo, there’s only one reason you’re still enrolled in this program.”

Her eyes rose. She concentrated, focusing them to look in the same direction. It hurt. “You were impressed with my bravery under pressure?”

“Buck, no! You stuck your head in that thing and showed all the survival instincts of a clinically depressed lemming. I did take notice when you solved the incantation particle overflow problem on the device.”

“Why?” She scooted her stool forward, daring to hope. “Did I do it wrong?”

Radical took off his glasses and massaged the bridge of his nose. “I’ve never seen it done that way before. In fact, no one has. To my knowledge no one’s ever fixed that engineering limitation. Ever. I wrote up a summary, explained what you did as best as I could, gave you co-credit, and sent it out as a paper. You’re going to be published in the Journal of High Energy Sorcery. Based on that, I got you a demonstration in front of the department administration tomorrow at noon.”

Ditzy flew into the air, spinning in circles and clapping excitedly. “Woo-hoo-wheeh!”

Professor Radical shook his head and bit down on her tail, pulling her back toward the desk. “Nuh waih a segoun,” he said with a mouthful of blond. Ditzy hovered in place with a self-conscious look.

“There’s a few… “ Radical stopped as he licked the inside of his mouth. “What kind of shampoo is that, anyway?”
Ditzy lifted her tail in embarrassment. “I get it from out of town. A friend brings it to me.”

Radical shook his head. “Anyway, this had better be perfect. Show up prepared, show up on time, and double-check your device. There are two things you can count on to stay the same: the need to check your equipment and the Mare in the Moon.”

Ditzy’s knowing giggle drew a reproachful stare. She shrugged in apology.

“Doo, you do have enough machinery ready to present?”

She nodded.

“Get out of here,” he said with a wave. “I've got better things to do than watch you go girly on me.”

Radical nearly choked as Ditzy grabbed his neck and squeezed.

“Thankyouthankyouthankyou… ”

He broke her death hug and glared. “Go get ready, Doo.”

She saluted (with more accuracy than the last time) and sped out the door. Radical sighed as he saw the blond-topped rump fly out of his office.

“I could love that filly. She’s got a beautiful taste. If I was ten years younger,” he said as he crossed his forehooves and leaned back, “I’d still stand no chance in Tartaurus.”

A grey blur sped out into the hallway, dodging between clusters of confused students. Further down the hallway a brown-coat unicorn mare slowly levitated a large crate. She looked in fear at the streak bearing down on her. Two fearful amber eyes became distinct as the excited pegasus tried to decelerate

“Clockwork!” Ditzy cried with a smile.

“Neighton’s First Law!” Clockwork shouted in alarm.

Ditzy nodded in understanding, rose to the ceiling, overshot her friend, and slammed hard onto the carpet straight down. She saw muffins and screwdrivers spinning around her head for a second before a quick shake cleared her vision.

Clockwork sat on her haunches, staring at Ditzy. Her coat was disheveled and her eyes bloodshot. She gave a faint smile to Ditzy.

“Ditzy. I’m glad to see you happy.”

Ditzy stayed silent for a few seconds. “You’re not happy.”

Clockwork shrugged. “Nah, I’m cool. Moving out of the campus, as a matter of fact. There’s a small school I applied to in Detrot that’ll take me on my finances. I’m going somewhere.”

Ditzy placed her hooves carefully on her friend’s shoulders. “But you love going to Canterlot University! What would make you give that up?”

“I… ” She wiped the corner of her eyes. “It’s just been too stressful to keep my scholarship. This school system chews you up and spits you out. I’ll see you.”

She walked away from a speechless Ditzy Doo. Suddenly she stopped and turned back.

“Ditzy, promise me you’ll stay true to your dreams.”

“What?”

“Whatever happens to me, I want to know that you’ll follow your heart.” Clockwork’s chest heaved through heavy breathing. “I’ll always wonder if things worked out for you. I… ” She stopped, unable to force anything else out.

Ditzy nodded in confusion. Clockwork smiled and walked away.

Cheerilee was silently spinning records when Ditzy burst in the room. Neighvana and others were spread out on the floor as the solemn mare organized her music.

“Hey, Cheery! I got a second chance!” She paused as she listened to the cheerful tunes spinning off the phonograph. “Hey, I like that! What’re we listening to?”

Cheerilee gave a warm grin. “It’s called ‘Stand and Deliver.’ It used be our song. I was in the mood for something cheerful. I broke out some of my oldies.”

Ditzy’s eyes widened as she pored over the ancient records that were so new to her. “Wow! You’ve got the ‘Trot and Roll High School’ soundtrack. That’s my favorite record to cook to. Can I look through your collection?”

Cheerilee nodded and switched discs, quickly filling the room with the sounds of the Ramanes. “I love grunge, but it’s doing no good cheering me up lately. What’s up?”

An hour later the two mares were optimistically talking when a knock sounded on the door. Cheerilee got up as Ditzy continued rolling on her back on the couch, exploring the box of musical treasures. On the other side of the door she found Professor High Class, still in his crayon-marked apron.

“Professor! What brings you from the ‘Ed’ Building today?”

He stared at her for a second, taking in her joyful facade and looking away guiltily. “Can I come in for a while?”
She nodded, disturbed by the lack of his usual optimism. As he moved inside High Class became distracted by one of Ditzy’s astronomy posters.

“My dear, what is that?” He inclined a hoof toward an elaborate poster on the wall.

Ditzy perked up. “That’s a representation of our galaxy from the Royal Observatory!”

He nodded in contemplation. “What are the push-pins for?”

“Oh! Those are some of my favorite places…” Ditzy noted the look of confusion on her audience’s faces. “…to read about!”

“Really?” Cheerilee raised an eyebrow. Walking over to the poster she squinted at the small hoof-written labels. “Do we have enough information about ’Kasterborous’ to make good reading?”

“Certainly,” Ditzy said with less confidence than she hoped. She nervously grabbed an astronomy textbook. Flipping through the pages, she smiled. “It’s blue!”

Cheerilee and High Class gave each other a shared look of mystification.

“And I love the color blue and I’m heading to the kitchen right now to make muffins!”

As the nervous mare flew away, Cheerilee shrugged at High Class. “She’s a wonderful roomie. Every day is full of mysteries.”

He nodded. “Unfortunately, she may not be your ‘roomie’ for much longer.”

She waited in silence for the other horseshoe to fall. She had been waiting since Nightmare Night.

“Cheerilee, I received a letter from your parents. Word has reached back to them about your romantic situation. They wrote to me asking about obtaining a working scholarship.”

“But… “She rubbed her chin in puzzlement. “Why would I need a scholarship? They’re paying for everything.”

He shook his head sadly. “Not anymore, Little Flower. It’s time to get roots of your own.”

She stood there for a second in thought before turning to the couch. She grabbed a pillow with both hooves and flashed High Class a smile. “Give me a second?”

He nodded, but his composure suddenly fled when Cheerilee shoved her faced into the pillow and screamed. As she dropped it to the floor her eyes were wet.

“They’ll… they’ll do anything to keep Lyra away from me. How would they even know?”

High class placed a soft hoof on her shoulder. “My dear, your family is in agriculture. Anything that happens to an Apple quickly passes through the grapevine. Would… ‘grapevine’ make it a mixed metaphor?”

He shook his head. “Anyway, I have a position for you in Ponyville. You’d live with the schoolteacher, Miss Scribbles, whilst you intern in the school. She’s due to retire within a few years’ time. It is honestly the best offer I have, and I’m giving it to you.”

Cheerilee sat back on her haunches. “Out of pity.”

“No. I’m giving it to you because you’re the best I have. I only wish the circumstances were better.”

Ditzy pushed a hoofkerchief into Cheerilee’s grasp, having silently sneaked into the situation. Cheerilee always wondered where her roommate spent so much time learning sneaking around. She nodded in thanks to Ditzy. Slyly, she turned to High Class. “Is this finalized?”

“What?”

“Is there still time to change my parents’ minds before their financial papers clear?”

He considered this, taking the moment to clean his monocle. “If you hurry, you could get a letter to your parents tonight. Educational deadlines are pretty draconian things. Sometimes I think they’re made by actual dragons.”

Cheerilee nodded and jumped to her feet. “Ditzy, you ready to star in a play?”

The hopeful engineer stared in confusion.

“Miss Doo, this is the end of an eighties play, and we have an hour to grab my marefriend, write the letter, convince my parents, and save the school! Let’s do this !”

“Save… what school?”

Cheerilee paused. “I dunno, that’s always the last thing on the list usually. I’ve always wanted to save a school. To the music building! Lyra’s in lecture now. Wait!” She ran into the bedroom. “I’ll be right out!”

High Class sighed as the bedroom door shut. “Society is not always kind to ponies like us who follow their hearts. Ditzy, is it? Take good care of her.” He walked out of the room.

Ditzy’s eyes spun as Cheerilee emerged from her bedroom. She had shed her flannel jacket and headphones for a pair of blue lightning bolt earrings. “Um… ‘Lee?”

“In here, we need a little more hope. Hey, ho, let’s go!”

The friends crossed the campus in record time. Soon they were navigating the maze-like hallways of an unfamiliar building.

“Celestia!” Cheerilee’s frustrated mounted. “Where do we go?”

Ditzy gave a comforting scratch to the back of Cheerilee’s ear. “Always take the right-hoof turns in a maze!” She dragged her protesting friend down several turns, finally finding themselves in front of a busy auditorium. The front doors were open as the finished lecture hemorrhaged students.

Cheerilee apologized as she pushed through the throng toward the front desk. A proper lady pony with multi-colored hair was organizing her notes as she prepared to leave.

“Pardon me, are you Professor Chromatic Scale?”

The older mare stared over her glasses in confusion. “I haven’t seen you two in this building before. Can I help you?”

“Yes!” Cheerilee breathed out with relief as Ditzy caught up, panting. “Sorry,” she whispered to her roommate, “Earth pony endurance.”

“I know,” Ditzy replied, “Lyra always brags about it.”

While Cheerilee blushed the instructor caught on. “Is this about Lyra Heartstrings? If you’re here to pick up her textbooks I have them over here.”

While she searched behind her desk the two friends exchanged a look. “Pardon me,” Cheerilee ventured. “Do I have the wrong section? Lyra goes to this class, right?”

Professor Scale gave a discerning look. “Are you friends with the mare in questions?”

Cheerilee nodded.

Chroma shrugged in response. “You must not have spoken with her lately. Lyra Heartstrings was an amazing student for the first two weeks of the class. She hasn’t shown up after that. It’s a shame, really. If she could only find her musical voice she could go far. I assume she dropped. If you’re here to resell her textbooks, here they are. She left them in class on her last day.”

Cheerilee tearfully shook her head and walked away. Ditzy watched her as she left. “Thank you for your help, Professor. Give them to someone who needs them.” She flew after her friend.

Lyra drank in the music through closed eyes. In the shade of a Canterlot store canopy she played a joyful song, picturing herself and Cheerilee dancing slowly to the tune.

The distinct sound of Cheerilee crying forced Lyra to open her eyes.

The noise of the busy marketplace fell away as Lyra saw her marefriend standing across the square. Ditzy was standing behind her, keeping a reassuring hoof around Cheerilee’s neck. Lyra didn’t even notice. With a jolt, Lyra galloped over to Cheerilee. Unseen by the pair, Ditzy flew toward the storefront and gathered up the lyre and saddlebags.

“’Lee! I didn’t expect…”

“Why did you keep lying to me?”

The timber of Cheerilee’s voice wavered. The hurt in her voice twisted in Lyra’s ears. She couldn’t bring herself to speak.

“Lyra,” she said as she stepped closer, “you lied to me every day for weeks. You made up things that happened in class. You even pretended to go out studying with friends!” She wiped her eyes and nose. H-how long did you expect that to last?”

Lyra's mind whirled. You were right, Dad. You were right, and I hate you for it.

“Cheerilee, I was raising money for us. I got my Nightmare Night outfit this way. I saved up enough money to finally buy you… ”

Cheerilee shook her head. “That’s so sad.”

“What?” Lyra’s nostrils flared. “I’m out here every day getting money for you! Are you suddenly too good for a street performer?

Cheerilee dropped to her knees as passersbys eyed the conflict while pretending not to. “No. You’re too good to be one. Lyra, you have so much talent. You’re ignoring it. There’s so much you could be if I wasn’t holding you back.”

“Don’t you dare give me that!” Lyra ran up to Cheerilee and shook her by the shoulders. “I’m not one of your damn students! You have no responsibility to make me whatever ‘better pony’ you think I should be.”

Cheerilee cried and quivered instead of responding. Both mares were oblivious to Ditzy, standing to side. As Ditzy’s gave a soft sneeze through her own tears, she heard a passing Canterlot lady sniff. “Isn’t it disgusting how young mares… “

“Shut up,” Dizty interrupted in a bubbly yet threatening voice, “Shut up or I will buck you up.”

The mare sniffed and hurried away.

Cheerilee shook her head as she turned away. “I won’t ruin you.”

Lyra shook on her feet as if she was punched. “No.”

“I won’t deprive you of being the pony you could be. I’m holding you back.”

“You holding me is the only thing that makes me go forward!” Lyra galloped to the side of Cheerilee. “Don’t do this. Did you seriously come here to play Celestia to all the ponies in your head? Don’t do the ‘right’ thing if it’ll hurt this much. Be a worse pony. Be selfish. Think about yourself for a little. That’s what ponies actually do.”

Cheerilee slammed her hooves into the cobblestones. “I’m losing my dreams over this!” Lyra stopped as Cheerilee turned a tormented face to her. “All I’ve ever wanted to be is a teacher. My parents just cut my scholarship because of us. I was going to try to write to them and talk about how responsible you were, about how much potential you had! But you really haven’t grown up at all since we sat on the steps of Miss Scribbles’ schoolhouse.”

Lyra pulled Cheerilee to her, their lips inches away. “Stay with me, ‘Lee. Please.”

“Lyra, I can’t give up my dreams.” Cheerilee fell out of Lyra’s grasp. The entire marketplace watched the spectacle as Ditzy pleaded with a nearby Royal Guard not to intercede.

Lyra stood alone in the middle of the crowd. “My only dream was you.” She snorted, veins on her forehead bulging. “What now? Are you going to run back to Caramel?”

Cheerilee stopped and walked back to Lyra, her hair disheveled and tangled. Staring at her nose-to-nose Lyra’s breath caught in her chest. Cheerilee leaned in slowly and gave Lyra a passionate kiss that stunned the crowd of onlookers.

“Oh, please.” Ditzy clasped her hooves together, the forgotten Royal Guard staring like an audience member at the end of a play. “Oh, please let this be the moment it works out.”

Cheerilee leaned backwards out of the kiss as Lyra tried to draw her closer. “This wasn’t a mistake, Lyra. This wasn’t an experiment or a fling. I love you. I always will. This just didn’t work. I can’t take a wonderful pony and make her less than she could be. “

Ditzy swallowed. She said nothing; she knew she couldn’t get the words out right.

As Cheerilee willed the mask of a smile onto her face and walked away, Lyra collapsed onto her side. She howled incoherently, screaming again and again.

Ditzy looked from one mare to the other. She saw Cheerilee’s shaking shoulders and Lyra’s forceful hoofstamps on the ground. Placing Lyra’s saddlebags next to her, Ditzy chose to run after Cheerilee. It was a well-considered decision that would haunt her for the rest of her life.

As the day drew to a close Lyra had yet to return to the dorm room. Hours of comforting Cheerilee had left Ditzy lying on the couch, fading out of consciousness every few minutes. Cheerilee silently moved back and forth, loading her cart with whatever it would take. She gave Ditzy an exhausted look of fondness.

“So, you’ll remember to send the rest of my stuff to Ponyville, right?”

“Murm…butterfly radio smash mouth.”

“And come and visit me?”

“Purple bucketheads spice fillies.”

Cheerilee petted Ditzy’s mane. “I’ll take that as a yes. What about your project, tomorrow?”

“Cherry popping studs.” Ditzy roused herself to partial lucidity. “Set my alarm for early muffin time. I’ll be out on a parts hunt before dawn.” She yawned and cleared her eyes. “I’ll miss you, ‘Lee.”

“This isn’t good-bye forever. You’re too wonderful to leave behind, Ditzy. We’re still friends. I’ll write, you’ll write, and we’ll visit each other. We might end up living close together.” Cheerilee shrugged. “Wherever you go, there you are.”

Ditzy nodded. “The earring look blowfish on you. Keep them.” She waved feebly with her wing. “Smile more. I like you smiling.” Ditzy snuggled into the couch side.

A knock sounded on the open door as a red stallion stuck his head in. “Hey, I know it’s kinda late, but is this room 213?”

Cheered zipped the bag out with her teeth. “Yup.” She looked at Ditzy scrunched up on the couch. “I’ll see you, Ditzy. Thank you for everything.” Ditzy briefly rolled over for a hug.

He smiled as he looked at Cheerilee’s flank. “Um. I just got in from Detrot. I’m your new roommate, so it’s… “

Ditzy turned and smiled awkwardly as she waved to him. “Actually… ”

Cheerilee didn’t spare him a look. “Treat her right or I’ll end you.” She placed her headphones and warded away the world. She grabbed a bag with her teeth, shouldered her cart’s harness, and walked into the hall. She didn’t hear or look at the stallion as he nervously scratched his mane. As Cheerilee disappeared into the crowd of students, he turned to Ditzy with a quizzical look.

Ditzy sighed. “She’s got a long train ride alone with her thoughts. Alone is not the best way to travel.”

He nodded. “Yeah. That’s the impression that I get.”

Lyra staggered into the empty apartment the next morning with alcohol on her breath and a mix of bite marks and scratches up and down her right forelimb. She stood in the doorway on her back hooves and examined the empty apartment in the light of the morning sun. Taking a few steps inside in her own peculiar way she unconsciously reached for the phonograph’s on switch. She nearly tipped over as she only found a note.

She stood there, her hoof on the note and her mind far away. She sunk against the back wall as she pulled the tear-stained note into view. Long minutes passed before Lyra was able to stand again.

Lyra stood on four quivering hooves. She was silent as her head dropped to the rug, the tears that dripped from her muzzle lightly drizzling it. The neighbors on both sides of Ditzy’s dorm suddenly flinched as a terrifying scream of desperation lashed through the walls, followed by the sustained sound of furniture shattering.

After a time the room was silent. Lyra walked into the kitchen. She scanned the cabinets thoughtfully as her flickering horn opened each one. Her eyes lit up as she saw an unopened package from Ditzy’s mother. She pulled a stool over to the kitchen counter and sat down.

The small pharmacy-stamped parcel levitated onto the counter. Lyra reread the familiar note aloud. “Dear Muffin, these are the pills the doctor recommended for depression and your other issues.” Lyra snorted. “As if there was ever anything wrong with Ditzy.” A growing realization of intent burned behind Lyra’s eyes as she unscrewed the top of the previously neglected medicine bottle and gently lifted its contents into view.

Lyra examined the hovering bottle’s label carefully. “Triphe… tryph… trippy-fun-something-something. ‘Take twice orally.’ I love those kinds of imperatives.” She dumped out a small pile onto the counter with her hoof as her horn poured a glass of water. “Fourteen should do it to start with.”

“Please. Please don’t.”

Lyra swiveled around in her chair. At the sight of Ditzy on the couch, she shook her head and looked again. “Doo? I didn’t hear you come in. Give me a minute and I’ll join you.” Lyra turned back to the pile of sedatives.

Ditzy covered her hoof with her mouth. For a moment she looked out of a recently open window pleadingly. No help seemed imminent. She gritted her teeth and stood off the couch.

“Come on, Ditzy,” she whispered to herself, “You always said you’d be able to pull this off.”

She slumped over the kitchen counter and stared at Lyra with crying eyes. Lyra snorted and pushed the pills to the side. ”You know, I could just do this later if you want to talk.”

Ditzy’s chest heaved. “Please. Please. Don’t. It’ll get better.”

Lyra’s hoof slammed the water glass into the wall. “That’s what she always said! That’s what she always told me. Thing is, she was the reason. Now she’s gone.”

“Um…” Ditzy tripped over the words that had confounded her all her life. Somehow she always managed to say the right thing at the right time; she hoped now was one of those moments.

“Where there’s life, there’s hope?” Ditzy got up from her stool and reached a hoof out to Lyra. Lyra raised her own hoof threateningly.

“Don’t try it, Doo.”

Ditzy didn’t stop. “S’okay. I’ve been hit in the face before plenty.”

Lyra stopped in confusion, allowing Ditzy to wrap her forelimbs around the sitting mare’s waist and sink to the ground. She let her head rest in the area that only Lyra called the “lap.”

“You were always…,“ She began. Suddenly Ditzy stopped, caught her breath, and started again. “You always make a room light up. There’s a joy that leaves Equestria when you go.” She looked up at Lyra, one eye keeping contact. “I don’t want to lose both of… one of my good friends.”

Lyra stayed still for a space of several seconds before patting her emotional friend on the head. “Ditzy, have you gained a little weight since I saw you last?”

Two golden eyes rolled in opposite directions. “Ly-Ly, you wouldn’t believe me if I tried. Did you think about how this will hit Cheerilee? Why would you do this to her?” She sniffled. “Why would you do this to me?”

Tears started to pour out of the hysterical harpist’s eyes. “I hurt. I hurt myself today just to see if I could feel.” She was shaking. “She was the only thing that made the world worth it. She was everything I wanted, everything I needed. She was everything inside me I wished that I could be. She’s gone now, and I don’t know where else the hurt can go.”

Ditzy sprang to her hooves. She scanned the room with desperate energy. “Oh, please tell me I remember where you… ah-ha!”

Momentarily, a lyre was pushed into Lyra’s hooves.

“Play. Go somewhere with an audience and play. Let the pain flow from your hooves and other ponies will willingly take it into their hearts. You’ve defined yourself as Cheerilee’s mare for a long time. Make yourself a musician again.”

Lyra embraced Ditzy for uncounted minutes. “Doo, I don’t know what would’ve happened if you weren’t here in time.”

Ditzy nuzzled her sobbing friend’s neck. “I do,” she whispered.

Lyra ended the embrace and stepped backwards. After a moment of contemplation she levitated the lye into her saddlebags and donned them. She gave a warm smile to Ditzy before walking out of the room. Ditzy locked the door behind her.

For long minutes Ditzy sat on the floor, wracked with sobs. After a moment she became aware of a rhythmic tapping on the outside window. The Doctor hung precariously from the window-sill, balanced on a tree branch.

“Love, we really need to go. Carrot Top won’t watch the kids forever.”

Ditzy nodded, giving a nostalgic look to the dorm room. “Do you think it worked?”

He shrugged. “Let’s go home. I wonder if we shouldn’t try to find a Miss Heartstrings to invite for dinner.”

Ditzy stood up, shaking the wetness off her face. “But, Cheerilee might need me to... “

“You only get one.” He returned a serious stare.

She giggled. “Everybody only gets one, huh?” Ditzy walked to the window and caressed the Doctor’s mane. He returned the smile despite the sudden two-inch dip of the tree branch.

“Nope, just you.”

Someone started fiddling with the front door. Ditzy’s eyes went wide. “Oh, no!”

The Doctor started scooting backwards. “Leave now, love! This is a conversation you don’t want to have and a day you don’t want to tamper with.”

Ditzy tensed, readying a flight out the window as the door started to open. Suddenly she stopped. “Why should we worry about Carrot getting impatient baby-sitting? We have a time machine.”

The door unlocked. The Doctor dropped from the branch. “We’ve no time for this,” he hurriedly whispered.

“No, wait a second,” Ditzy continued, “You always act like we’re out of time when you don’t want to deal with something.”

The door creaked open.

“Love,” the anxious whisper came from outside, “we are truly, seriously, out of time!”

She shrugged, smiling. As Ditzy Doo hurried out the open window, Ditzy Doo walked in the front door. This Ditzy was pulling a cart filled with engineering supplies, and thus failed to notice the familiar blond tail fly out of her window. She was, as Lyra accurately noted, carrying a half dozen pounds less the one that just flew out.

Ignorant of the drama that just played out in her room, Ditzy began methodically emptying her cart with one hoof and both wings. The morning passed in silent effort as Ditzy leaned over the table, tongue stuck out in concentration. As she organized a line of capacitors, Ditzy realized a noise had started. She turned around in time to see the TARDIS materialize.

The door opened up to reveal a Doctor with soot on his coat and weariness in his eyes. He stumbled out a leaned on the wall. As Ditzy gasped he gave her a reassuring wink. Nearly crawling onto the couch, he let out a long breath.

“Tell me something I don’t know, Ditzy.”

“What?”

His heavy breathing stabilized. “I’ve seen things. Done thingy things to things. Been a bad day. I sometimes feel like I’ve already seen everything good in the universe. Tell me something pleasant that I haven’t heard.”

He sputtered as a tub of cold water was dumped on him. Startled eyes turned to Ditzy.

“That is rain water with an abnormal lightning content. The cloud retains a little bit of a spizzle spoo. Can you feel the difference between these, Doctor?”

He threw up his hooves as another barrage of stored rain water assaulted his face. He turned to Ditzy with a scowl that broke after a second of introspection.

“That… that last one feels different. Like… like uneven temperature differences.” He licked his nose experimentally.

“Salty, too.”

Ditzy nodded. “The first spring storm on a beach after the snows melt. I had to catch a train to nab that one.”

“Why’d you go to so much effort, dear?”

She shrugged. “Because I knew I’d have to do this one day.”

The Doctor was silent for a spell. He rolled onto his elbow and looked the smiling pegasus in the eye. “Ditzy Doo, I had no idea what I was getting into when I first saw you in the woods.”

She steeped over to the couch and placed her face so close he could smell her hair. The Doctor breathed in deeply.

“That’s a lie, Doctor.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Eh?”

“Doctor, I may not always speak right. I may have nearly blown up the engineering building because my huon stabilizer disappeared. Maybe I forget the words or the parts, but I never forget our meetings. The first time you met me wasn’t the forest.”

He sat up slightly, scratching his mane nervously. “Well…. “

“Doctor,” she continued, “you first met me on a dance floor on campus, and you told me I was beautiful.”

He sputtered. “Well, chronologically I knew that, but… ”

She gently closed his mouth with her hoof.

“Doctor.”

He stopped trying to speak.

“Doctor, you spent all that time with me knowing the mare I would grow into. You knew that lonely girl would grow up into me feeling how I felt that night. You knew that and went ahead.” She cocked her head. “How many centuries has it been for you? From your perspective, how long have you known me?”

“Two months.”

She gasped.

He leaned forward towards her, pushing up on his elbows. “Ditzy Doo, I may have an unhealthy obsession. Except for one or five emergencies I’ve spent the last two months of my life jumping through yours. Every single time I stand at that TARDIS control panel I try to think of a place I’d rather be than with you. It never works.”

She stared at him for a full heartbeat. Suddenly she turned around and walked calmly into her bedroom. The Doctor shook his head. “Um. Should I wait here? Maybe put a kettle on?”

The Doctor drew a sharp breath as Ditzy walked out. She was wearing dark blue and grey striped socks that went all the way up. She walked to the Doctor and sat down on her haunches, looking at him expectantly

“Ditzy,” he said with care as his hearts beat quickly, “Why… Why do you have something like that lying around? Something as gorgeous as that… in my favorite colors… ”

Ditzy very gently pulled his head towards hers and leaned towards him.

“What… What are you doing, Ditzy?”

“Something I’ve wanted to do for a long time.”

She breathed in quickly before putting her mouth over his. His eyes went wide. He pushed her up with gentle force.

“I… I think… “

“Please don’t, Doctor.” Her breathing came in quick little gasps. He saw her flushed face as she pushed some of her mane out of her eyes. “I know all the risks. I’ve seen what can happen. Doctor, I’ve seen countless lives end in regret on our travels. I don’t want to be like that. Whatever I accomplish, wherever my story ends, I want to be as happy as I can be.”

She flew gracefully onto the couch, lying down onto the Doctor. “Happy is with you.”

“Ditzy, you’ve seen what my life is like. I can only complicate you.”

She closed her eyes and leaned down into him, bringing warmth to places that had been cold for a long time. “I’ve seen civilizations end, Doctor. We parked the TARDIS out past breaker satellites and watched worlds die. Everything is worth it for you.”

She leaned over him again and stared into his eyes.

“Doctor, everyone I know goes away in the end. I just want to be happy.”

She looked over the Doctor and briefly saw her alarm clock. It was twenty minutes to Noon. If Ditzy hurried, she could make the presentation with technology they had never seen. She kept one eye on the clock and the other on the Doctor.

He hooked both of his hooves down around her neck and, almost timidly, eased her lips onto his. Ditzy pushed her body against his, snaking the alarm clock with one hoof and throwing it across the room. It landed in a corner, the ten minutes to Noon alarm silenced forever.

“Stay with me, Doctor. Tonight. No running.”

“I will. I promise.” A passing thought occurred to him. “It’s… been a while. I remember something about ‘protection.’ Shouldn’t we have some kind of protection, love?”

She briefly pulled away, her chest heaving. “Doctor, you’ve always been enough protection for me.”

“That’s… sweet if illogimmphh.”

For a short time for two ponies in a small corner of the universe, time stood still.

Lyra had sat in the same spot for hours. Her eyes closed, she felt nothing but her music as she gently caressed the strings of her harp. A soft, haunting melody filled the air around her as every string was plucked with the tenderness of pained reflection. After a long time she felt a gentle, steady tapping on her shoulder.

Opening her eyes gave her a view of the outside of the Canterlot Amphitheater. A crowd of ponies surrounded her at a respectful distance. An aged gentlepony stared at her expectantly through a monocle.

Lyra dropped her head and lyre simultaneously. “I know. I’ll move. Tell the owner I’m… “

“That won’t be necessary, miss.”

She looked up.

He cleared his throat. “I happen to be the owner.”

Lyra cringed, tears that she had thought run out hours ago welling up in her eyes. “I’m sorry.”

He placed a hoof on her shoulder. “I know. Let’s go inside.”

She stared at him without understanding. “Don’t… don’t you want me to go?”

“Dear Celestia, I certainly hope not!” He gestured at the attentive audience that surrounded her. “I’ve never heard such emotion channeled through that particular instrument.” He gestured to the crowd. “Fillies and gentlecolts, how did you like the show?”

Lyra sat dumbfounded as the sound of applause rained down on the cobblestone.

He offered a hoof and gently pulled Lyra to her feet. “Let’s go inside, dear. I want you as my orchestra’s second chair in the string section.” He raised an amused eyebrow. “I may be convinced to go higher if you’re any more pleasant than my first chair.”

She followed him mechanically toward the building.

“Really, this must be a dream of yours, dear.”

She sniffled. “I guess so. I did need a new one.”

They approached the double doors of the amphitheater and she saw Jazz gently clapping on the floorstones. He looked at her with admiration.

“I always said you could do it, dear.”

As the owner walked inside she hesitated for a second to speak with her father. “Thanks for always believing in me, Dad. I’m glad you’re proud.”

He nodded, beaming.

“I hate you, Father. Go away forever.”

He silently watched her walk into the lobby and out of his life.

The Doctor woke up. Unlike Equestrian ponies, he awoke with total consciousness. His race left sleep instantly, remembering where they were and what was going on around them.

He smiled.

Ditzy Doo lay on her side on the bed, gently snoring with a slight whistle that he found adorable. He spent fifty-seven enjoyable minutes without moving a muscle, watching her breathe as the dying light of the sunset snaked through the living room blinds. He only stopped when his coat started beeping.

With great care he dropped off of the bed. He crawled along the floor, finding his coat in a corner in the living room four feet from his tie. He fumbled through the pockets until he drew out a small machine with green beeping lights.

“Hmm.” He cast a guilty look backwards toward Ditzy. “I’ll be back before you know it. I promise.”

A minute later he walked out of the dorm room, peering curiously at his tool. He navigated the halls of the dormitory while never taking his eyes off the blinking unit. Eventually he stopped in front of a closed door.

“Now, why on Gallopfrey would this room have a huon stabilizer in it?”

He pulled a small cylinder out of his coat and aimed it at the door. After a short, blue flash the door creaked opened onto a lavishly decorated room. The sound of the shower running could be heard. The Doctor ignored it in favor of the small gadget he saw beeping in a corner. Cast of on the edge of a chair and forgotten lay a piece of technology that could jump Equestrian science centuries ahead in the right hooves.

The Doctor picked it up and examined it from several angles. He chuckled. “Wow. I love what she did with the oscillation overthruster. The Banzai Institute’s been trying to solve that problem for centuries.”

He was too involved in admiring a mare through her handiwork to hear the shower turn off. He spun around at the sound of a voice.

“Who the Tartaurus are you?” Starshine stood dripping onto the carpet, a towel thrown over his back.

The Doctor regarded him with disdain. “I’m the colt in the box. Where did you get this?”

Starshine snorted contemptuously. “I expect you to leave this room right now!” He turned to leave the room before he felt a hoof on his shoulder.

“Hey! Wait! I’ve got a little complaint.” The Doctor lifted the softly humming object and waved it under Starshine’s nose. “Where did you get this?”

Starshine pushed the beeping object out of his face. “Hanging around the lab somewhere I suppose. Please leave before I call security.”

Carefully placing the object on a table, the Doctor commenced to grab Starshine by his towel and drag him closer. Inches separated the angry stallion from the perplexed student.

“That’s a very primitive but well-made with love huon energy stabilizer/generator. If you had the intelligence to build a macaroni model of that I would know. There’s only one mare in Equestria who knows how to build one of this.”

“How could you possibly be so certain it’s hers?”

“Because the labeled diodes have muffins for ‘i’s.”

They stared at each other for seconds. Starshine finally found his footing.

“Listen, I’m not sure you know who I am or what… ”

The Doctor grinned. “Go on. Threaten me. I’ve had it done by the best.” He blinked. “Or would that be the worst?”

Starshine shook his head. “Fine. I took it from Derpy’s project. You’ll never be able to prove it anyway, and considering the pull my family has on the university I’ll just push counter-charges on you.”

“I can do one thing to you that you can’t resist, though. No one’s ever resisted this.”

Starshine snorted. “What would that be?”

“Tell me why you did it,” the Doctor said while smiling.

“Well, the little nag embarrassed me on stage.” Starshine levitated his steamed-fogged glasses out of the bathroom and beamed while cleaning them on the Doctor’s jacket. “Professor Radical was publically humiliating me and that retard interceded. As if someone of my stock needed a lesser pony to plead for them. I thought the university would be better off without her bleeding heart.” He donned his glasses and smiled.

“Let me get this straight,” the Doctor began as he stepped forward, “you decided to break Ditzy Doo for being merciful?” He was standing inches away from Starshine's face now, and his volume was rising with steady determination. “What's next? Punish the trees for drinking sunlight? Hurt the sun for shining? By the Great Bird of the Galaxy, why don't you ruin water financially for being wet?”

“Who... are you?”

The Doctor grinned. “You need to believe me.” He waved an analytical hoof. “For this to work, you have to absolutely believe I am who I am.” Smashing his hooves together in anticipation, he turned and left the room.

The moment the mysterious stranger was out of sight Starshine galloped to the door and locked it. He suddenly turned around as a siren-like klaxon sounded from nowhere. A flashing light materialized in his room, resolving into view on top of an odd blue box.

Starshine gingerly approached the strange thing. “What… is a Public Pony Box?”

The door opened up. “It’s a place,” the Doctor said with a grin, “for ponies that need help.”

As he stood on the threshold he called to Starshine. “C'mere a minute.”

The terrified noble stepped toward the inviting door. “It's... bigger on the inside than the outside.”

A back hoof hit him in the chest, toppling him over.

“Okay, you got the quickie tour.” The Doctor sighed wistfully. “You know, I normally love it when they say that. I’m going to go see a lot of you. I’ll be right back.”

The door shut and the box vanished. Starshine squinted distrustfully at the space it previously occupied. He rubbed his head and closed his eyes as memories of long ago suddenly leapt unbidden to his mind. The now-familiar sound of the box materializing rang out, sending Starshine onto the floor in panic and recognition.

The doors of the box opened. The Doctor leaned against it and crossed his forelimbs. “So, who am I?”

“You...," Starshine stammered, “You're the wizard of the Travelling Box! I used to dream about you all the time! You'd take me off somewhere and we'd float in space and you'd... "

He suddenly became very afraid.

“Go on,” said the Doctor.

“... You'd tell me how ponies should treat each other. You’d show me places when ponies hurt each other for terrible reasons. You took me on an adventure with awful people. I spent most of it hiding. You showed me amazing things.”

The Doctor nodded. “So, do you happen to have a huon stabilizer I could borrow?”

Starshine nodded. “Of course! I have the one from Derpy’s… ”

The Doctor stared him into silence. “I find it kinda funny. I find it kinda sad. I gave you a chance. I went back and tried to make you a better pony. Even though it may have changed history and prevented a very enjoyably spent afternoon, I attempted to do this the easy way.” The Doctor looked at the table to the still-present huon stabilizer and nodded. “Yet, you still did that.”

“Well, it was all very childish stuff I remembered the Wizard saying. I grew up and realized how the world actually worked. Wow, I'm actually admitting it, it was actually you.” His eyes widened in wonder.

“Chilidish.” The Doctor stared at Starshine, who stepped back until he hit a wall. “Morals and ethics and examples and you call it 'childish.' Well, you hurt the most 'childish' mare I know and squandered your do-over, so I'm going to reach into my coat and destroy you now.”

As the Doctor extended his forelimb slowly into his jacket Starshine lifted an imploring hoof. “Wait! You can’t… ”

He froze. He had expected a weapon. “Wait, is that a phone?”

The Doctor nodded as he pulled out a miniature pink phone and started tapping on it with one hoof. “Hold on. Texting. It's important or I would stop.”

Starshine walked closer to inspect the device. “That’s a portable phone? It’s so much smaller than any I’ve seen.” His eyes went wide. “It has a crystal ball screen on it?”

The Doctor grinned, “Yup! Small teleys! Great for keeping in contact, terrible for traffic safety. Has amazing range, I can play solitare on it, and...,“ the Doctor paused as he held it up and it flashed, “also has a camera.”

Starshine rolled his eyes, sighing in relieved disappointment. “So, you manipulated time to enrich my life and take my picture. Are we done now?”

The Doctor tapped away on his phone. “What did you call her?”

“Excuse me?”

“Well,” the Doctor said while shrugging, “I remember it’s kind of laugh-worthy. Humor me. What do you call her?”

Starshine smiled, wrongly sensing a lack of hostility. “Derpy Hooves.”

The Doctor was silent for a second. In that second the ancient, atavistic part of Starshine’s brain that evolved to sense predators and threats screamed, pleading with him to hide in a cave.

“Ah.” The Doctor paused. “She’s got dozens of different names from many races throughout time and space, you know. The Malmooth call her the Seer of Two Paths. To the Koloobari, she's the Grey Angel. The Macra gave her the title of ‘the Bringer of Mercy, if I remember right. Macra’s a bunch of clicky noises, after all.”

“Um… Interesting. So, why do the Mac-mic-maccy things call her that?”

The Doctor spread a smile that froze Starshine’s blood. “Because she convinced me to spare their world.” There was a pregnant pause. “She’s not here now, you know.”

An uncomfortable silence intruded.

“Now,” the Doctor continued, “since they're all on my contact list, I just sent them a little picture of you, a planetary location, galactic coordinates, and a description of what you did to Ditzy. Let that penetrate your thick consciousness for a second. You got kicks causing the worst day in Ditzy Doo's life, and I just informed space-and-time-faring civilizations who owe their existence to her all about it.”

A glowing light started to emanate from the closet.

“Oh, Merian slide-rift technology.” The Doctor’s eyebrows lifted in curiosity as he inspected the glow. “The Pandawan simian-birds cut to the front of the line. Well, I never expected them to be first on the list. She must have really touched them with her speech at that bombed-out hospital.”

Starshine suddenly began hovering into the air. As the closet door flung itself open he began slowly floating into the light.

“Have a nice trip, Starshine. Remember, there really are monsters in your closet.”

“Wait! You can't let them kill me! You don’t do that!”

The Doctor cantered towards the TARDIS, looking away from the terrified stallion. “You really never paid attention, did you? ‘Don’t kill Starshine’ is rule number one. There may be one or two others but I didn’t stress myself out about it.”

Starshine’s terrified eyes searched for mercy in the Doctor’s mien. “Please! How do you know they’ll obey?”

The Doctor spared a single backwards glance. “They’re smart. They know what condition I expect you to be in afterwards. Unlike some ponies, THEY LISTEN TO ME WHEN I TELL THEM HOW TO ACT!”

As the door slammed shut, the Doctor walked into the blue box. Within seconds the dorm room was empty.

The TARDIS rematerialized inside Ditzy’s room. The Doctor pushed open his time machine’s door with a smile that quickly turned into confusion. Instead of Ditzy a red stallion was sprawled out on the couch. A magazine lay spread across the floor where he had dropped it in terror. His eyes poured over the blue box.

The Doctor looked around. “Pardon me, have you seen Ditzy Doo?”

The paralyzed student just stared open-mouthed at him. The Doctor walked up to him and held his lower jaw up. “Diiiiitzy Doooooo. Have you seen her?”

Snapping out of it, the red pony nodded. “Yeah, she was my roomie for a while. How does that big flashing blue box work?”

“That’s a wagon. Someone slipped you some drugs. Always bring your own cider. You said awhile?” The Doctor raised an eyebrow. “What? When?”

“Well, a few months ago she missed some big presentation and lost her scholarship. She moved back to Ponyville.”

“No.”

“Yeah, I miss her too. She made great muffins while she was here. Kinda cute, too.” The red stallion’s eyes went wide. “Hey, if you’re looking for her could you give her this?”

The Doctor watched helplessly as a wooden TARDIS was pulled out of the closet and placed into his hooves.

“Yeah, she kind of left this here when she moved. It had so much detail I couldn’t bear to throw it away.”

The Doctor held the hoof-painted toy tightly. “Fine. Good. Listen… “

“Um, I’m Red Glare, Mister Drug-Induced-Hallucination.” The student offered a hoof, still staring at the box.

The Doctor absent-mindedly nodded. “Listen Mister Glare, if you ever care about someone, never let them out of your sight.”

He ran back inside the TARDIS, leaving Red Glare confused and alone as the box disappeared.

A blue box materialized on a side street of Ponyville. As it had for centuries, it landed at a particular spot and moment where nopony was watching. An agitated brown head quickly stuck its head out of the door with a screwdriver in it. He spit it out and trotted out.

“Oh, someone please tell me that I fixed the navigation circuit. Months is way too late.”

He ran into the busy Ponyville marketplace, settling on the first booth he could find. A cheerful mare smiled back. “Buy some flowers, sir?”

“I want to know if I fixed my navigation circuit!”

She blinked back. “Um.... you may want to talk to an engineer.”

The Doctor slammed his forehooves hard on the stall table. “When is this?”

“This… this is Ponyville.” She made eye contact with other sellers with terror in her eyes.

“I know that! I said when!” Suddenly seeing her fear, the Doctor very slowly backed down off the counter. “Look, I’m sorry. Miss, do you know a mare called Ditzy Doo?”

She blinked, her mind leaving the flight-or-fight stage. “Um. Yeah. The mailmare.”

He breathed slowly to control himself. “Mailmare? She went from an engineering major to being a mailmare?”

She shook her head. “I hear she flunked out of engineering college about three years back.”

The Doctor rested his head on the counter. “Three years. Red Glare was three years ago.”

“I think she tried to get some kind of mechanic job, but everyone heard about some explosion at school.”

The Doctor clenched his teeth. “I didn’t do enough.”

“For her, you mean?”

He blinked. “That, too. I meant to him. But you don’t know about Starshine… "

She laughed. “That crazy guy who writes those trashy books about alien abduction? That guy’s a lunatic.”

The Doctor smiled. “Look, is she happy? That’s all I need to know.” He turned to the listening crowd he had drawn. The all avoided eye contact. Returning to the flower vendor the Doctor pleaded with her. “Tell me she’s happy.”

She stared at him, terror and confusion turning to sympathy. “She’s married.”

“Really?” He sighed. “Tell me good things about her husband.”

She said nothing. He turned to the nearest bystander. “Say something positive about her husband! Anything! Give me something cheerful!” He shook him by the shoulders. “I order you to say something nice about Ditzy’s husband!”

The crowd was silent.

The Doctor screamed in rage at the sky. “Why? Why by everything that’s good would a mare like that marry… “

He saw her.

She was walking across the far side of the marketplace. Ditzy had changed over the years. Her belly was full with child. A bruise lay across her right eye. Out of all of this, the thing that hurt the Doctor the most was her expression. As other ponies walked by, Ditzy Doo kept her head low, watching the road and silently moving out of their way. Her eyes showed nothing but disappointment and resignation.

The Doctor fell backwards onto his haunches, leaning against the stall. “That’s it then. All for nothing. Every good thing I’ll ever do won’t wipe away that from my mind.” He picked himself up.

The vendor leaned over. “Shouldn’t you go to her?”

He shrugged . “What could I say? What right to I have to apologize? It won’t matter in the long run. In fact, I think I’ll feel like a new stallion in the morning.”

He started to walk off. After a few steps the Doctor felt a restraining hoof on his shoulder.

"Doctor."

He raised his head at the familiar voice. Turning brought him face to face with a fuchsia mare pulling a shopping cart of school supplies.

"Cheerilee? I have it right, you're Cheerilee?" He gave a half-hearted smile at her nod. "I never forget a pony. Well, almost never."

"But you did, Doctor." Cheerilee smile had an anger behind it. "You forget her."

"No! I just... I just wound up in the wrong place."

While she stared at him he ran his eyes over Ditzy's old roommate. "You look good. Haven't gained weight, I see."

Her smile lost a little anger. "I'm a teacher now. For the moment I help Miss Scribbles, but I'm taking over the schoolhouse this fall. Running around with the kids all day keeps you busy."

"Is it... what you wanted?"

She bit her lip. "It's everything I hoped it would be."

The Doctor nodded. "And... Lyra?"

"I knew you were going to ask that." She sighed and looked away. "She's successful in Canterlot. I always thought she could be. I've been writing letters to her ever since I left. Three months ago she finally started returning them. Hopefully she'll come to visit Ponyville one day." Cheerilee turned back to the Doctor with purpose gleaming in her eyes. "You should have seen Ditzy's face. Delivering that letter to me was the only thing that made her happy since you left her."

A silenced stretched out for several seconds as Cheerilee watched the Doctor's internal struggle play out on his face.

"Doctor, you once told me you'd give up forever to touch her. If that's still true, she needs you now more than ever."

“What? What could I possibly do now?”

“You care about her. I can tell." Cheerilee gave a deep breath as she weighed how to phrase things. "I think you should know she gets those bruises a lot. She falls down the stairs.”

He looked blankly back until she pointed to a small house on a hill. It stood away from Ponyville proper, nestled between large black trees and under brewing storm clouds.

“That’s Ditzy’s house,” she explained.

The Doctor carefully considered this. He spoke in an emotionless voice that nevertheless sent a chill down the spine of every listener.

“That… is a one-story house.”

He kept staring at it.

“And she’s a pegasus.”

Cheerilee nodded.

Not a word was spoken in the marketplace. The hopeful teacher saw planets burning in the Doctor’s gaze. He contemplated the house until a bolt of green lightning struck a tree close to it.

“Well, that’s unusual. Been having nasty weather lately?” The Doctor straightened himself.

She nodded. “Yes. It started when Ditzy’s husband began building some kind of machine. There’s something strange about what he’s doing there on that hill with his tools.” She stepped back and watched another tree catch emerald fire. “Sometimes I think he only married her to get a lab assistant. Do you think the weather will get worse, Doctor?”

He smiled a smile that carried no comfort to any who saw it. “There’s an oncoming storm. Count on it.” He took several dramatic steps toward the house on the hill. Suddenly he spun on the flower vendor with a smile.

“It’s wonderful to be me. Truly is. Life is nothing but highs and happies. I break every rule in the galaxy. ” His manic grin haunted the mare’s dreams for years. “Do you know what is the absolutely most wonderful thing about being the stallion that gets to break all the rules?”

The salesmare dumbly shook her head. The Doctor nodded and grabbed a bouquet off of her stand. He fished around in his pocket and left an inert world-tree seed, a jelly baby, and a gold coin.

“I even get to break my own rules. Ditzy Doo, today is going to be the day that I’m gonna make it up to you."

Cheerilee walked to his side. "Don't leave her this time."

The blood drained from his face as she continued.

"You have a choice, Doctor. We all did. You can keep traveling, or you can be the stallion she needs."

He nodded to her as he turned and walked away. As the Doctor marched off, the flower seller called after him. “Wait, sir!”

He turned with smoldering eyes.

“What’s your name, sir?”

He bobbed his head back in forth in thought. “Names. Always been a bit rubbish about names." He turned to Cheerilee. "Is Ford Prefect a good name?”

She shook her head with a giggle. He shrugged.

“Well, I need a name. A good, strong name. After all, I intend to share it with someone.”

He bowed and turned towards the storm. He had decided to chase after Ditzy Doo.

The girls' stories don't end there!

Cheerilee's life takes her to the hardest class she could imagine in School Daze!

What is Ditzy and the Doctor's family life like? How will they deal with time travel and monsters? Take a look at The Three Whooves!

Lyra's future with Bon-Bon will be written someday... and they won't be alone...

Chapter 4: Happy Hearth's Warming, I Don't Want to Fight Tonight

Choices
By Paleo Prints
Chapter 4: Happy Hearth’s Warming, I Don’t Want to Fight Tonight

Dust-covered glass greeted Cheerilee as she opened the battered chest. Years of partially-sober ornament design parties flooded back as she scrutinized rows of fragile constructions. A Ramanes album cover reproduction scrawled on a piece of wood that could charitably be called a square leaned on a glass ball with “Teecher’s Pet” spelled out lovingly, if only approximately, across in graffiti-like hoofwriting. Cheerilee smiled as she pushed aside the rows of crystallized memories.

Her eyes lit up at the checkered pattern sticking out underneath an ancient diminutive blackboard. Picking both up with her teeth, Cheerilee deposited them on the table. Wow, she thought with a deep sigh and a dusty mouth. You know, I bet unicorns never learn to control their saliva for delicate teeth work.

Written across the small chalkboard was the simple statement, “We Love You, Mom & Dad.” Next to it was a checkerboard-framed picture of Cheerilee and Lyra at a party. She waved out of the frame at herself, decked out in bangles, frizzy hair, and lightning bolt earrings. Next to her was Lyra, staring at Cheerilee with an admiring gaze and a blush only partly explained by alcohol.

Yeah, after I hung that up was about the time Mom cancelled Lyra’s sleep-overs. Cheerilee smiled. At least, the official ones. Thank Celestia for windows.

Long moments past while Cheerilee stared into the past. With a determined start, she trotted into her bedroom. As the click of a latch and a jingling of metal filled the air, Cheerilee heard the door open.

“Ditzy? Ly-Ly? Wait there, I’ll be right out! I’ve got a surprise!”

Cheerilee raced out, a single bright blue lightning bolt dangling from her ear. Her enthusiasm ground to a halt when she met the sardonic, violet eyes of an older unicorn,

“You know,” he said as he levitated a package under the tree, “the flannel and the pastel really conflict. Pick one of them and be done with it, dear.”

Cheerilee smiled while the inside of her brain called her mouth muscles liars. “Mister Heartstrings! How lovely for you to join us. Is anyone else going to join us?”

He sniffed as he found a kitchen stool and opened a wine bottle. “Here? I doubt you’d have the room. Ballad is staying at her coltfriend’s family winter house. It’s not like Lyra talks to her sister anyway.”

Cheerilee stared as a full wineglass emptied into Jazz. “Um, that’s meant--”

“To help me deal with... this,” Jazz said as he waved his hoof irritatedly around the room and levitated more wine into his cup.

“And what about Lyra’s mom. She’s not spending time with her family members?”

A chuckle echoed an empty glass. “No, although depending on her sobriety and faithfulness to medication she may be generating some.”

Cheerilee walked to the edge of the counter, grabbing the half-filled bottle in her teeth and depositing it in the fridge. She leaned back against it, crossing her front hooves and frowning.

Jazz smiled. “That’s adorable, if useless. I have a horn, you know.”

“Try it and you’ll pull back a stump.” Cheerilee considered this. “Or, gain a stump somewhere logical.” She narrowed her eyes, only managing to draw a laugh out of Jazz as he raised his hooves in surrender.

“Enough. Is there is coffee?”

Seconds later caught Cheerilee headfirst inside the refrigerator gazing past preserved muffin experiments and Lyra’s ill-saved leftovers on a quest for creamer that Daring Do would give up in favor of something with spiked pits. She pushed aside a pile of hay fries half-wrapped inside a stapled together cling film bag.

“Ly-Ly, you never clean up your messes right,” She said softly.

“I agree,” came Jazz’s voice from behind. It startled her, sending her head into a shelf and nearly tipping over a bowl the last tenants had left when she moved in. Cheerilee straightened the shelf with the side of her face as she reached out a hoof to slide it into its groove.

“Sorry, music instructor’s hearing,” came the barely apologetic response. “You know, I think I finally have the right perspective to make out what my daughter sees in you.”

Cheerilee gently pushed the pretty floral bowl of gelatinous mass to a safe corner and breathed out. With professionally faked cheerfulness, she inquired, “And that would be? From a position of hospitality? Resourcefulness, perhaps?”

Jazz let out an amused chuckle. “The correct term is ‘behind,’ my dear.”

Cheerilee’s eye twitched as she pulled her front out of the refrigerator.

“I don’t blame her,” Jazz continued, obviously to the looming danger, “I’ve learned many pleasant lessons from my earth pony ex-wife myself. Amazing stamina, that breed.”

Cheerilee’s mouth slammed a tray of mugs onto the counter, sending spikes of coffee into the air. She moved very close to Jazz, showing a smile that would have made a tooth fairy reach for his wallet. “What do you want, Sir?” Cheerilee said with a rising tone of voice. “One lump, two, or a whole lot?”

Jazz nodded and levitated the unsweetened cup to his lips. “Coffee is drank for utility my dear, not flavor. So, should I just leave Lyra’s present under the tree?”

Cheerilee stayed quiet for several seconds as Jazz downed the cup. Finally shrugging, she sat down next to Jazz and took a mug herself. “Tree is fine. What did you get her?”

“A Longnote Orichacum Lyre with adamant sap-treated strings.”

Cheerilee had enough presence of mind to aim her mouthful of coffee away from the stallion with the expensive present.
Jazz only smiled. “The towels wouldn’t be on the other side of the kitchen, would they?”

Cheerilee returned his gaze as she pulled a rag from a nearby drawer. “You only get one show, ‘Sir’.” She shook her head. “I haven’t heard a single pleasant word from you about your daughter. Why get her something that cost more than my tuition?”

Jazz flashed the grin of somepony who used first-born colts as currency. "Think of it as an investment in her future.”

The front door was flung open. “Hey, everypony! I hope you have room for Donut Dan’s!”

Ditzy Doo trotted into the room with a yawn and several bags hanging off of her curled feathers. She deposited her bounty on the counter, bleary eyes going wide at Jazz’s presence. “Mister Heartstrings! How nice to see you.”
Jazz leaned over the counter. “Of course. Your darling father wouldn’t happen to be here, would he?”

Ditzy shook her head. Jazz nodded with the relief the beta timber wolf shows when the pack alpha falls into a canyon. “Good,” he said as he turned away from Ditzy. “Cheerilee, my daughter needs a rich husband or a career. She has to provide or be provided for.”

Ditzy reached her feather’s over the counter, brushing Cheerilee’s hair out of her eyes and petting her forehead before finally taking a cup of coffee. Cheerilee’s shoulders relaxed at the touch.

Cheerilee risked another venture into the minefield of the conversation. “With a teacher’s salary and her playing gigs we should be able to make do until she gets her degree.”

Jazz snorted. Cheerilee eyes flashed.

Ditzy looked up from her coffee with a frown. “Sir,” she said neutrally, “Cheerilee and Lyra both have a lot of talent.”

“I know about this one,” Jazz said with a leering wink. “I got a show earlier.”

Ditzy’s blood froze at Cheerilee’s embarrassed blush. She carefully put down her cup and folded her wings in front of her. “You know, my father told me he’d be happy with my career regardless of what I chose, as long as I followed my heart.”

Jazz rolled his eyes. “Darling, if I was your father I’d agree. I’d be happy if you managed to find yourself anything.”

Cheerilee’s heart jumped as she fumbled for her falling mug. Ditzy’s wings carefully put down her drink before reaching over the counter and pulling Jazz across it by his necktie.

“You’ve insulted me,” she said in a steady tone. “That’s okay. I’m used to that. But you seem to be upsetting my friend, and-- ”

“Let go of me,” Jazz choked out of his fabric noose, “you feather-brained --- “

“I am talking!” Ditzy shouted. The apartment was dead silent. Jazz looked into Ditzy’s eyes, seeing the pony his mind previously filed between the “Target” and “Eye Candy” folders and finding that the shelf of folders lacked one marked “Quiet and Terrifying.”

Ditzy released him, Jazz gasping for breath as he fell back in his seat. “Anyway, I think you were just leaving.”

Jazz rushed to the door, fumbling at the locks with his horn’s glow. He turned back as he got the door cracked open.
“You and your father are both dangerous, violence-prone lunatics, Miss Doo.”

Ditzy smiled. “I should introduce you to my great-aunt Daring, then.”

Jazz froze. He shivered. He left.

Cheerilee moved to the other side of the minikitchen counter and put a grateful hoof on Ditzy’s shoulder. The pegasus sniffed. Cheerilee gave her a kiss on the cheek.

“Ditzy Doo,” she said, “you are beyond value. Come on, I’m taking you out for lunch.”

Ditzy’s wing drew across her eye. “But... I have to get through chapter six today to stay on schedule for my presentation.”

Cheerilee lifted DItzy’s chin up. “You’re my new personal hero. Isn’t being a hero worth free cheese hay fries?”

Ditzy thought for a second and sighed. “Not as often as you’d think, actually.”

Lyra sat in a relatively spartan office, and this offended her. She felt that a proper professor should have stacks of paper leaning over on her desk near a perpetually cold cup of coffee. Using graduate students to keep a clean office and a regular return of papers to the students somehow seemed to be an abandonment of responsibility.

At the moment, Lyra was as much paying attention to the professor in question as she could dredge up on four hours of sleep spread over a music theory textbook with drool marks.

Chromatic Scale cleaned her glasses telekinetically. She reclined in her chair, her multi-colored hair tied into a tight bun that made mares jealous and stallions eager to hear a breathy statement about overdue books.

“Miss Heartstrings, while your impromptu performances are amazing, you’ve turned in only half of your required writing assignments. While I can respect enthusiasm, I also must hold everyone to the same high standards I myself went through. This is quite an important part of becoming part of the Canterlot musical hierarchy.”

Hair, Lyra thought. Rainbow hair, flowing like waterfalls. Strawberry-smelling locks falling between blueberry-tasting strands and...

“Are you paying attention to me right now, Miss Heartstrings?”

Professor Scale sat patiently.

I think the hair is talking.

Lyra snapped up in her chair. Professor Scale adjusted her glasses and grimaced.

“Miss Heartstrings, you are aware that tonight is Hearth’s Warming Eve? I’m in my office today in respect for your father’s reputation and your obvious talent. I don’t want to waste my time to help another future casualty of society.”

Lyra broke out in a cold sweat.

“Professor Scale, I’m sorry if I’m a little out of it. I had a gig last night. I really needed the bits. And I was trying to get through chapter four afterwards.”

“Of course, that would be more important that a scheduled emergency meeting with a busy professor on a holiday.” Scale sighed.

Lyra swallowed. “Please, Miss, I promise I’m taking this seriously. These textbooks don’t pay for themselves, and I have to take care of my roomies, and I need to get presents, and I’m living off of grass.”

Scale nodded as she stood up. “I understand your mindset, Miss Heartstrings. When I was young I knew everything.”

Lyra stepped in front of the slowly retreating faculty. “Please. Please help me. I want to get my theory papers done, but I don’t know where to start. You know I play better than half the students in my class.”

Scale snorted. “Half? I think you could adjust that number upward.”

Lyra’s brain stopped at the surprise compliment. Scale breathed out.

“Listen, Miss Heartstrings, I only want you here if you’re willing to put in the work. You could be fantastic, but you really have to decide what you’re going to prioritize. This is your turning point, Lyra. It’s a fork stuck in the road. At this age life is grabbing you by the hoof and asking you where to go. Be back in my office the day classes start again with your textbooks and decide what is really important.”

Five minutes later found Lyra breathing rapidly in front of a restroom mirror. She spread her forelimb on the counter and stared at years of accumulated small lines. She heard a knocking on the door.

“Go away,” the preteen answered from her locked personal bathroom.

An impatient tapping sounded on the outside of the door. “Little Ly, come on out,” said a voice with good-natured control. “We’re late for the restaurant.”

Lyra breathed rapidly. “Ballad, my recital is today! All my friends are coming!”

The doorknob briefly glowed and wiggled without opening. “I know, Ly. This is important, though. With this invitation Mom and Dad might double their concerts this season. I promise you we’ll reschedule.”

Lyra stared into her reflection’s eyes. “They’ve never rescheduled yours.”

“Lyra,” Ballad said in the voice that told Lyra she was about to utter That Sentence. Lyra started shivering preemptively.

“You have to face it. You can’t run.”

As usual, the shivering continued.

Ballad sighed. “Be out in two minutes. All smiles, remember? Remember what Mom says.”

Lyra slumped over the sink, briefly looking for the toothbrush with the sharp, pointy bottom. It was gone; the maids must have caught on. “All smiles, all grins today. Keep the frowning locked away.”

“That’s my sister. Two minutes.”

Lyra listening to the sound of retreating hoofsteps and stared at her forelimb. In the assuring quiet she bit down with the desperation of a drowning pony gasping for air, screaming as she shook her head. After a few minutes the muffled cries stopped. With practiced efficiency the tearstained towel went into the hamper, the red tissues went into the toilet, and she walked toward her parents with a smile.

Lyra breathed heavily in the college restroom as the knocking pony gave up and wandered off. She had three forms of release in her life, but Cheerilee and her instrument was both elsewhere.

In lieu of a toothbrush, she bit down.

“Raargh,” declared Ditzy through the wad of fries shoved in her upper lip. “Nightmare Moon want candy!”

Cheerilee giggled. Tension flowed out of her as Ditzy’s answering laugh rung through the nearly empty cafe, the hay fries falling out of her mouth onto Ditzy’s plate.

Cheerilee grabbed the basket. “Okay, let me try one.” She stuck two fries into her upper lip. “I am a vampire,” she declared with her hooves in the air.

“Heh,” said the soft voice to their side that made Cheerilee jump and Ditzy squeek. “You gonna bite anyone?”

Cheerilee was staring into reflective purple goggles and seeing nothing but the amused grin below. A nervous-looking pink mare pushed in front of the grin and gave it a reproaching look.

“You weren’t supposed to scare them, Vinyl.”

Even with the glasses in the way, Cheerilee felt that “Vinyl” was staring straight at her.

Vinyl shrugged. “Vampires are cool. If she’s a vampire, she’ll be cool with it.” Vinyl leaned onto the table, close enough that Cheerilee could smell candy on her breath. “Are you cool, lady?”

Ditzy crossed her forelimbs. “Vampire aren’t cool.”

Vinyl snorted. “Anyway, my friend here wanted to ask you a question.” Vinyl pushed her shivering companion forward.
She stared at Cheerilee and Ditzy for a few seconds. Cheerilee smiled, then waved a hoof towards herself. “Come on. I’m not going to bite.”

“Disappointing,” said Vinyl.

“Um.” The mare carefully placed both hooves on the table. “Are you the mare who danced with her girlfriend on Nightmare Night?”

Ditzy lean forward, her mouth a straight slit as her wings straightened out. “What if she is,” Ditzy asked with an edge to her voice. “What of it?”

Cheerilee looked into the strange mares eyes. She nodded.

“Oh.” The nervous girl met the non-judgmental gaze of the bowl of fries. “Well, if you ask a girl out and she says yes, and it goes okay... What do you do?”

Ditzy’s eyes spun as Cheerilee breathed out.

“Be curious,” she finally said. “Explore. Do what she likes. Always consider how she feels.”

Vinyl giggled as her friend blushed. Cheerilee tapped her hoof on the table idly. “Vinyl, is it? I thought I saw you with stallions all year.”

“What?” Vinyl giggled. “Oh, yeah. No, I’m here as back-up courage. Also, I thought this would be kinda like getting matches.”

Cheerilee and Ditzy stared at her.

Vinyl shrugged. “Like in the Colt Scouts, you know? Something you keep just in case." She gently pulled her friend away from the table. “Be prepared for anything, you know. Come on, Daisy. Let’s let these girls explore.”

As she pulled her friend away, Cheerilee would have sworn that Vinyl winked at her. Ditzy shrugged. “So, what plans do you have for Lyra?”

Cheerilee leaned forward, rubbing her hooves together. “I’ve been planning for weeks. This Hearth’s Warming is going to be perfect.”

Ditzy cocked her head. “Why does it need to be perfect?”

Cheerilee raised an eyebrow. “You know, maybe more ponies should do your cute eye thing. You see a lot more than most.” She slumped over the table, sipping her straw for a space of time. Ditzy remained attentive. Her sugary thinking break successful, she drew in a deep breath.

“How was Hearth’s Warming at your house, Ditzy? I mean, while you were growing up?”

Ditzy chewed on the edge of her hooftip a second. “Awesome!” Ditzy exclaimed as she spread her limbs. “Mom would make huge helpings of food, Dad always helped me on my Commander Hurricane costume, and we’d all tell windigo stories until I fell asleep on the floor.”

Cheerilee nodded. “My family doesn’t do Hearth’s Warming well, Ditzy. If my parents didn’t have to go to other ponies’ parties to make deals, they’d bring over business friends from out of town to get new contracts. It wasn’t horrible, but it was never right. Never just us.”

Ditzy nodded. “So, what are you getting Lyra on your special night to be just ‘us’?”

Cheerilee shrugged, the weight of consumer culture pushing her shoulders down. “I have no idea what to get her, Ditzy. She’s never been the kind of pony to keep things around.” She idled pushed around the hay fries bowl. “What kind of pony doesn’t like stuff?”

“Someone who’s used to running,” Ditzy wisely stopped from saying at the last minute. In fact, Ditzy merely leaned across the table and took Cheerilee’s hoof in her own. “What she values is you, ‘Lee. Plan something special for the two of you.” Ditzy’s smile was warm and sad simultaneously. “In the end, all that matters is the time you two spend together.”
Sighing, Ditzy’s wing pulled open her saddlebags and fished out two shiny tickets. “Look, here’s two tickets to the Canterlot Castle’s Hearthwarming Eve play. I want you to have it.”

Cheerilee’s eyes widened. “How in Equestria did you ever manage to get those?”

Ditzy stared off, laughing uncomfortably. “Oh, I might have done a favor for someone at the castle at some point.” She pushed the tickets forward onto the table, allowing Cheerilee a glimpse at the gold-inlaid filigree show information. Many theater-goers keep tickets as keepsakes, but only one event’s were good enough for the venue to sell extras as souvenirs.

“Ditzy,” said Cheerilee as her mind reeled. “I have no idea how you could give these up.”

Her friend shook her head dismissively. “Oh, I’m already seen it. I’ve gotten these every year since I got my cutie mark.”

“Girl, I wonder what you did to earn these.” Cheerilee ran her hoof down the ticket, feeling the raised calligraphy. Her parents were well off, but they never bought a ticket like this. The artistry increased as you neared the stage. A sixth row ticket hung in the Canterlot Art Museum. These were front row seats.

Ditzy nodded, eyes thoughtful. “I do too. I’ll find out someday. Anyway, I’ve been going to the Hearth’s Warming plays for a long time. Like, a really, really, really long time. It’s your turn.”

“Heh.” Cheerilee held up the precious paper to her nose, breathing in the possibility. “I remember first going as a kid to one of the Ponyville shows. The used those cheap wooden windigoes that wouldn't fool anyone”

Ditzy thoughtfully sipped her drink before answering.

“Mine… were a lot more realistic at my first time.”
__
Elsewhere and off the campus, Lyra hunched over a bar. It was hard not to feel self-conscious as one of the only five patrons who needed a drink on Hearth’s Warming Eve. Her eyes lazily passed over endless unfamiliar pictures of soccer teams as she contemplated her next mood. “All right, give me a double.”

“And I’ll take that, squared,” said the trenchcoated pony who sat down next to her. He ran a chestnut-colored hoof through an unruly mane of spiky hair, jogging Lyra’s memory.

As the two ponies (or the pony and the kind of pony, as it were) started drinking, Lyra snorted and turned to her unexpected company. “We’re quite a pair, aren’t we? Drinking alone on Hearth’s Warming Eve.”

The Doctor nodded. “Yep. Even though I have someone waiting for me.” His eyes went wide, and he looked around furtively before coughing. “Somepony, I mean. Sorry. Amphibian throat thing.”

Lyra nodded. “Me too. Even got her a gift.”

His eyebrows raised. “Something nice?”

A small felt-covered box levitated out of Lyra’s saddlebags, flicking open to reveal a ring that sparkled in the candlelight.

“Yup.” She sighed. “I just don’t know if I’m a good enough mare to marry yet. Who’d slip a ring down their tail for a failed music student who reads about humans because she can’t handle reality?”

“Humans.” The Doctor sniffed. “Feh. Not bad, humans. Give me ponies any day.” He speculatively tasted his beverage. “If she loves you, keep reading about humans.”

Lyra snorted. The Doctor raised an eyebrow.

“I’m serious. Imagine. Everything you do, even the humans, makes the amazing symphony that is you. Each part is a movement she’s fallen for. If she loves you, she fell in love with all of that.”

Lyra was quiet for a full minute as she looked into her swirling cup. She risked a small, hopeful smile. “You drinking over someone special as well?”

“Yep.” The Doctor knocked bank his tankard and pushed it back toward the bartender. “She sees just like a child. She sees just what I want, and she brings me back to life.”

If anyone accused Lyra of having a romantic side they would have to quickly answer with raised forehooves, but she was blushing and sighing now.

“That’s why I should leave,” he said as he destroyed her moment. “I’m bad for her. Too much baggage. Have to find a new place. I might go off to fight in the war.”

Lyra’s head jerked up. “Wait, what war?”

The Doctor shrugged, gesturing vaguely upwards. “Oh, I don’t know. There’s always a war going on somewhere. For nebulous duty, generic deity and random geographic location, ooh-rah. It’ll all be over by Hogswatch.”

She learned on the counter, taking in the gentle eyes and slightly uncoordinated theatrical gestures. “Do you really picture yourself somewhere with a weapon?”

“Weapon?” He blinked. “Don’t hold to those. Don’t expect to use one.”

“Ah. Short war then.”

“Yep.” He slugged back his drink. “This is swill. Bartender, do you have anything that’s more like, I dunno, maybe a brick with a slice of lemon wrapped around it?”

Lyra scooted her stool over. “Go to Ditzy.”

“What!” The Doctor looked at Lyra with suspicion. “What are you? Telepath? Shape changer? Thought construct?” He picked up a spoon in his teeth and brandished it in a threatening manner.

Lyra giggled as she levitated the spoon out and dropped it in his drink. “I saw you at a party once.”

“Really?” He nodded and took another swig. “Never crossed my mind, that. Highly unlikely.”

“Listen carefully, buddy. I’ve seen the way you two look at each other. If you walk away, you’ll regret it for the rest of your life.”

He was momentarily still. “Bartender, another two drinks please.”

“And don’t forget about her,” Lyra continued as she snaked a limb around his shoulder. “She’s set her whole life around the thought of being near or with or like you. I can’t imagine what she’ll do if you just disappear. I don’t want to think about how that’ll affect her.”

“Plus,” she said after pulling away and downing the latest of a nameless succession of shots, “if you hurt her I will hunt you down, and I will find you.”

He swivelled, examining Lyra’s eyes for the briefest of seconds. “You know, I believe you just might.” He pushed himself you his feet, nearly falling over. “Whoosie woozie! Okay, need to be nober sow. Or something.”

The Doctor slapped both his cheeks, mooed like a cow, and blew a raspberry. He closed his eyes for a single second of concentration, then stood up as sober as a chariot-stopping police officer. “Right, off I go then. Maybe I can help you one day, miss. Night!”

“Wait!” Lyra’s eyes spread wide as he threatened to run off. “Hey, could you teach me that trick?”

He blinked, waving his hoof in the air as he began a gesture and forgot where it was going to end up. “Yes,” he said before disappearing into the night.

Lyra sighed. “Bartender? Two large coffees please.”

As the Doctor pulled himself out of the bar his eyes widened at the nearby labelled intersection. “Oh, no. Okay, the college is where exactly? Streets meet in the center, right?” He swivelled toward an outside table and grabbed a nearby bar patron by the shoulders. “I’m rubbish with streets. Where’s the college?”

The stallion blinked, his brain never being quick while sober. His date, however, thought she saw an interesting conversation for the first time that night.

“Follow this road until you turn on Sol Street. Hey, you were drinking with the green girl, right? She’s that musical deviant, right?”

The Doctor shrugged. “I dunno. Never heard her play.”

“C-college is that way,” choked out the stallion as the mare rolled her eyes. She pulled closer to the Doctor.

“No, I mean a real deviant.” She pushed to the edge of her seat, waiting for the gossip.

“Her?” The Doctor scratched the back of his neck in confusion. “Oh, no. She’s nothing, comparatively. You should meet the mathematiphiles of Abbot IV. They date geometrical concepts. Met a girl who married a halved right triangle. She was a bisectual.”

He ran off, leaving the couple to add it up on their own.

Ditzy sat at the outside cafe table, staring at the starlight. The wind played through her hair as her eyes moved independently to mark the motion of the falling snowflakes. She idly began searching for patterns in the snowfall. Equations played through her head until she saw a pony well-practiced in running gallop across the campus grounds toward her. Ditzy started bouncing on her stool.

A thousand mares could never reach you, she thought with a smile. How could I have been the one?

The Doctor ran toward Ditzy, his scarf whipping in the wind. He skip to a stop in front of her and bowed. She clapped her mittens together.

“Hello, Doctor. Did you bring me anything?”

“A piece of sky every night, Miss Doo.” He winked. “Shall we exeunt, or just simply leave?”

The Doctor extended his hoof and drew Ditzy onto her hooves. As they walked off onto the snowy drift, the Doctor felt the tip of her wing brush against the hourglass on his far flank. He turned, aiming a raised eyebrow at her blushing expression.

“Um.” He considered. “What was that?”

She struggled with raising her eyes to his. “Um. I read about it in a novel, Doctor.”

He nodded. “Oh. All right, then.” He turned away then spun back in place. “What kind of novel?”

Ditzy finally raised her eyes to his. “A romance novel, Doctor.”

They stared at each other, the intervening seconds filling with possibilities until the snowball hit Ditzy in the face.

“Dude, look at her. You really dizzyed up the girl.”

“I think she came that way.”

“Man, how old is he? That’s kinda creepy.”

The Doctor turned to see three giggling stallions in team jerseys. “Oi, you lot! Why would you possibly do that?”

Two of them looked at each as the third shrugged. “We like having fun at other’s expenses?” The Doctor’s only response was a growl.

With the Doctor restraining himself to the depths a warrior mare of Volupton’s wardrobe can be considered restrained, Ditzy pinched her nose to stop a sneeze. In hindsight, when she and the Doctor would look back on this event while hiding behind a tree forty paces away they both decided that the sneeze was what did it, or in this case what didn’t it.
Natural selection would’ve had a hard time producing more effective protection than Ditzy Doo’s sneezes. Ditzy seemed to extrude cuteness as a defensive field, much as infants evolved to be charming to prevent parents from strangling them at three in the morning. Just as certain salamanders keep the traits of their youth (and think themselves “hip” and “edgy”), Ditzy Doo’s bodily noises were still arguably adorable.

Whereas her eating noises had greatly eased certain moment in intergalactic diplomacy, her sneezes immediately projected onto the listeners an instant feeling of empathy and desire to embrace and comfort the afflicted. If one could have projected this ability into the past onto some prehistoric eohippus cave pony, the predators of Equestria would have guiltily starved themselves into oblivion hundreds of millennia ago.

If she had only sneezed, it would have deflated and unified the Doctor and the frat boys instantly, quite possibly leading to apologies, laughs all around, and a drunken bonding experience. In another universe, a blitzed physical education major may have embarked on a journey that begins with an inebriated stumble into a time machine and ended with him as on a distant world as a wise philosopher king with a taste for rugby.

But in the end, Ditzy Doo didn’t sneeze, and the Doctor got angry. He snorted as he stomped toward the sniggering trio. Two of the not-so-motley crew were nearly doubled over in laughter. The third student had accidentally caught a look at the Doctor’s eyes. Deep in his brain, something reptilian shouted that it might not be a bad time to start a lifetime dedication to running away, lest said lifetime turn out considerably shorter.

“Guys, we need to be somewhere,” he said as he tried pulling them away.

The Doctor shook his hoof at the trio. “That’s right, you should run! Run fast! You have no idea how good I am at running. When I catch you, you’ll-- “

“Doctor!”

Turning to Ditzy threw a wrench into the Doctor’s mental gears. Her eyes were very nearly focused directly on him. She was quaking in a way few beings sort of galactic dictators had ever inspired in her. The baleful gaze she projected could have stopped a pony’s heart; he was absurdly glad for bringing an extra.

“Doctor,” she said as she stepped towards him with slow deliberation. “What’s one of the most dangerous things I’ve ever faced?”

Bragging, he thought. I can handle bragging. This is familiar.

“Uh, the robot yetis? Real yetis? Animated storefront dummies?”

Ditzy gave him a reproachful glare that would have made Cheerilee suggest a career in education. “After all this time, did you really think I need the full ‘I’m the Big Oncoming Storm’ dragged out for my benefit for a snowball?”

The bullies gave each other a look with a meaning that, elsewhere in the multiverse, a Japanese human caught between two rubbery giant monsters would have understood. They knew they were playing well above their food chain level.

“Okay,” stammered the terrified one who had locked eyes with the Doctor. “We’ll leave you two to sort this out.” He dragged his comrades over a snow drift, unconsciously looking for cover.

“Um.” The Doctor backpedalled physically and mentally. “What would have been the appropriate response, then?”

Ditzy turned and pushed a wing in front of his face, using the feathers to count off. “Let’s see, there’s wiping off my nose with a hoofychef, kissing it to make it better, pushing your own nose into mine to share the snow,” she said before pausing and lowering her wing. “You, know, anything that would have shown concern for me over macho idiot posturing.”

The Doctor’s nostril flared. “Idiot? I’m an idiot then, am I?”

Ditzy nodded. “Of course.”

He scratched behind his mane. “Yep. Guess I kind of was. Doesn’t the ‘angry boyfriend’ act get any points?”

Ditzy shivered, her eyes unfocused.

“Okay,” he said slowly. “I said something, didn’t I? I mean, I know I said something, I’m saying something now---”

Ditzy smiled, wings tentatively spreading outward. “Boyfriend, Doctor?”

His brain stopped, rewound, checked to see if there was any way out of this situation, and shrugged.

“Um.” He paused. “Um. Hmm. Um. This should count as dating. I mean, we go to diferent dates. We go on dates to dates.”

For the first time in centuries, the Doctor was unable to feel the turn of the planet as two warm lips tentatively covered his own. Slowly she pulled back, her face flushed as she watched his brain restart.

“Well. That was scary.”

Ditzy smacked him playfully in the shoulder. He fell back on his rump, waving his front hooves around.

“Not that! That wasn’t that! I like the lip thing. I meant the hoofballers.”

Ditzy nickered. “Scary? Hoofballers with snowballs? Come on, Doctor. I bet that’s not even in the top hundred.”

“Them? No, no. No! I meant I was scared you were going to run off. I always worrying about this old stallion finally chasing you off.”

Ditzy stared into his blue eyes for a second before finding herself. She deliberately and delicately kissed him on the nose.
“I’ll never leave you, Doctor. I don’t know what I’d do if you ever left me.”

She leaned her neck across his mane and closed her eyes. They felt each other’s hearts beat as the Doctor looked up at the stars.

Several definitions for insanity have been suggested by ponies over the years. They range from “Claiming to be Starswirl the Bearded” to “Attempting Diplomacy with Custard Products.”

The one that generally floats to the top is “Attempting to Do the Same Thing Over Again with Different Results.” This seems initially to be a bad definition, since it assumes the sanity of a pony with a firm grasp of cause and effect who yet claims to be a potato. Still, its the one most ponies (even potato ponies) know about.

This is why, despite maintaining a firm rejection of self-vegetableness, Cheerilee’s action that night were insane.

She hummed to herself as she buzzed from place to place in the apartment, checking with certainty that all the touches were in order. Snacks and presents were fine. The tree was small, but would suffice. It only just touched the ceiling. Her father was renowned in Ponyville for trees that required renovations to display, even if only the servants were home on Hearth’s Warming Eve.

This will do. Cheerilee hid a large book underneath a couch pillow, and patted it . Everything’s in place except for me.

When Lyra walked into the dorm twenty minutes later, (slightly favoring her left forehoof), she was stunned to find Cheerilee surrounded by decorations and basking in the light of the fire.

“Well, now,” Cheerilee said to her stunned lover as she adjusted her Princess Platinum crown, “do you like what you see, my subject?”

The first word Lyra was able to form was “Fire.”

Cheerilee cocked her head. “Yes?”

Lyra crawled onto the couch, briefly noting the fake horn her girlfriend had put on and shivering pleasantly. “Love, we live in a dorm. How do we have a fireplace?”

The response was giggles. “I traded some cookies for a favor from an illusion magic major. The glamour’s a little fragile, though. As long as you don’t touch it, we’ve got a fire tonight.”

Seconds later found Cheerilee underneath a warm and smiling green pillow. They rested like that for a while before either dared to speak.

“So,” Lyra asked, “how’d you know about the ‘Princess Platinum’ thing?”

Cheerilee laughed. “Doesn’t every good unicorn tomboy grow up with a crush on her?”

Lyra breathed out, cheeks reddening. She rolled over onto her back to position her head right under Cheerilee’s so that their lips were nearly touching. After about ten minutes in this position she finally managed to get a word in.

“You know, Princess Platinum’s wasn’t known for lightning bolt earrings, but I like it. What else do we have planned?”

“Well, more of that.” Cheerilee laughed. “I have cookies, hidden presents, and holiday costumes. First off, check what’s under the pillow. It’s your starter gift.”

Lyra lifted a limb and wrapped it around Cheerilee’s next. “Is it something for the ‘special drawer’?”

Cheerilee rolled her eyes. “Later.”

“Something practical, I bet.” Lyra sniffed. “You never start with the fun stuff, Miss Teacher.”

Lyra’s horn lifted the pillow, revealing a large book. Immediately, she felt a ripple of pain run down her right forelimb.
“Music Theory for Foals? No.”

“Love,” Cheerilee said, “everypony uses the ‘For Foals’ books once or twice. I read the teaching series.”

Lyra tried to levitate the book away, but Cheerilee caught it in her teeth. She placed it onto Lyra’s chest.

“No,” said Lyra. “I don’t want it.” She barely heard what her lover said as she stared at the cover and saw only a judgemental hair of rainbows.

Cheerilee sighed. “Honey, I’m proud of you but I can tell you need help. You work hard, and you missed so much while you were busking.”

Lyra tried to push away the book with her hoof. “I’m not dealing with this tonight.”

Cheerilee bit her lip. She searched her mind for the best possible ways to smooth over the moment. Unknowingly choosing the worst words possible, she gave it her all and selected an action that in view of Lyra’s previous reactions could charitably called insane.

“You have to face it. You can’t run.”

Lyra rolled off the couch violently, one hoof pushing off of Cheerilee’s stomach. Her horn flared as she through the offending book away with a scream. It impacted into the tree, shaking the branches. There was a sound of something with a checkerboard pattern breaking on the floor.

Lyra stopped. She looked at the mess of needles and ripped tinsel. The book had gone through the tree entirely, upending a mug of something onto its cover as it lay in a corner. Turning to Cheerilee, Lyra saw a scared face breathing quickly.

Stop hurting yourself, Ballad had said. You’re going to make ponies think I have a freak for a sister.

Lyra raised a hoof gently towards Cheerilee. “Don’t,” she whispered. “Don’t go.”

Cheerilee hadn’t heard. She stood up on the couch, shaking with tears. “Not tonight, Lyra. Please. I’ll let you say whatever you want tomorrow, Lyra. Don’t do this tonight.”

Lyra’s legs gave out underneath her. Whereas Cheerilee had expected an angry and shouting unicorn, what she got was a sobbing balls of green in a fetal position. Cheerilee stepped closer as Lyra bawled into her hooves.

“I’m sorry. You never should have fallen for a freak. I don’t know what’s wrong-- ”

“Shhhh.”

Lyra looked up in time for Cheerilee to kiss her on the nose.

“Shhhh. I hit something inside you, didn’t I? Lyra, you can tell me why you did that later. I just want to help you get rid of the tears now.”

Lyra pulled herself onto her knees. She lifted one at a sharp touch and frowned.

“That’s the Senior Dance picture of us, wasn’t it?” Her lips started vibrating.

Cheerilee threw her limbs around Lyra, pulling her into a tight embrace. “It’s okay. I don’t need the picture. I still have the mare I went with.”

Lyra stood up. She wiped her eyes and smiled. “You know, you make me a better pony.”

Cheerilee smiled. “That’s my job. If I ever stop I get fired, you’ll know.” I’m going to go clean up. You get back on the couch.”

Lyra watched Cheerilee tidy the dorm. She straightened the tree, swept up the glass, and carefully place the intact picture to the side. Lyra started rubbing her forelimb as she saw Cheerilee wiped off the book instead of throwing it away.

“I guess we’re not done with that,” she whispered to herself.

“Hey, Lyra?”

She turned to Cheerilee, hoping for a distraction for arguments to come. “Yes?”

“Out of curiosity, did anyone ever teach you to salivate less with your mouth open?”

Her answer was a long snort. “You magnificent educator, what is tonight’s lesson?”

Cheerilee dropped the dustpan out of her mouth. “Behave. We have a show to be at in an hour. I can’t wait to see what you got me.”

Lyra looked at her saddlebags. “I’m not sure its ready yet.”

Hearth’s Warming Eve rolled on. They were together, and as long as no one touched it the fire kept burning.