Sunset Shimmer opened the door to Canterlot High School's science lab.
Her eyes then widened, and her jaw dropped, at the sight before her.
The whole room buzzed and bubbled, clanked and thumped, crackled and zapped, with the sounds of what looked like nearly every piece of equipment out and operating at once.
Used beakers littered the counters. Papers with half-finished equations and other indecipherable scribbles spilled onto the floor. Multiple burners were aflame, or left steaming from recent use. The faintest smell of smoke laced the air.
Immediately Sunset looked to the window. Thank goodness—it was open for proper ventilation purposes.
Sunset waded carefully through the scientific madness. Past a spinning centrifuge, some beeping scales, and a tiny green blob in a petri dish that she was sure was moving, she crept towards the far end of the room.
And, at last, Sunset found her.
Twilight Sparkle stood, bent over a table, talking to herself in a low voice. Her white lab coat had a few fresh stains, as did her hands. Her hair, usually in a tightly secured tail or bun, was almost loose, locks escaping left and right. Her safety goggles rested over her glasses as she looked through the microscope in front of her.
Through the din of the machinery, Sunset couldn't tell what Twilight was muttering—but going by the speed at which Twilight's lips moved, it was clearly complicated. Back and forth Twilight's face shifted, looking through the microscope, then jotting formulas on a nearby scrap of paper.
Sunset shook her head and grinned. She'd seen Twilight in this state before, and knew to approach carefully. And cheerfully.
"Hi, Twilight. How's it going?" Sunset said, from a safe distance in case whatever Twilight was working on was… delicate. "The other girls said you've been in here all day."
Twilight jerked her head up. She blinked at Sunset.
Sunset saw the exact moment Twilight's brain clicked and went, oh, right. Other people do exist. "O-oh! Sunset! Hi," she said, with a little wave. "Yep, here I am." Twilight nodded, then went back to her microscope.
Just as Sunset was about to speak up again, a whistle sounded from one of the burners. Twilight jerked up again. "Oh my gosh! Hang on. This is important!"
She rushed towards the burner and turned it off, eyeing the purple substance in the beaker. Using an eyedropper, she sucked up a small amount, then moved the dropper over to the petri dish with the green something Sunset had seen earlier.
Tongue poking out the side of her mouth, Twilight slowly squeezed. Sunset grabbed a nearby pair of safety goggles, and slapped them on—again, just in case.
The bulb of the liquid stretched down, down, down, until it broke from the dropper. With a soft plop, the purple hit the green, and the second the two made contact, they fizzed. Then, they steamed. Twilight clenched her fists and bit her lip, as her eyes widened expectantly.
And nothing happened.
The steam cleared, and the dish ceased signs of activity. Twilight tilted her head. She grabbed another eyedropper, slurped up the results, placed them under a slide, and dashed back to the microscope.
"...no, no, no, this is wrong, all wrong!" she growled, as she glared through the lens. "This totally goes against every single one of my hypotheses!" She looked up from the microscope, her face crumpling. "This wasn't how it was supposed to go at all."
She peeled off her gloves, dropped her elbows on the table, caught her face between her hands, and sighed. "They were supposed to mix perfectly," she groaned. "Now I'm back to square one." She slumped facedown onto the table.
Concerned, Sunset placed her hands on Twilight's shoulders and kneaded them in a gentle massage. "You'll get it," she said, in the same reassuring tone she'd used for months every time Twilight hit a roadblock. "You always do."
Twilight sighed again, sounding a little less dejected. "Thanks, I—" She turned around. The surprised look was back on her face. "Sunset?"
"Yep." Sunset grinned. "Still here."
Twilight blushed. "Guess I was in a bit of a zone again." Her eyebrows narrowed. "Wait. Not that I'm not happy to see you, but... what are you doing here?"
Sunset blinked, then took out her phone. "You... you texted me. Asking me to come to the lab so we could talk."
"I did?" Twilight checked her own phone, then scratched her head. "Wow, I did. Guess I lost track of… things."
"I'm surprised you can keep anything straight with all this going on," Sunset said, and gestured around the room. "Also? I'm surprised you're here. Isn't Friday your date night with Timber? It's past five. I figured you'd be getting ready."
Twilight fell silent, her gaze low. She glanced up, and for a split-second, Sunset saw... she actually wasn't sure what, but it made her breath catch. Then it passed, and Twilight folded her hands.
"I... I cancelled," she said, looking at her microscope. She idly fiddled with one of the focusing knobs.
Sunset raised an eyebrow.
"I just didn't feel up to it," Twilight added, quickly. She jammed her hands in her lab coat with an overbright smile. "Anyway, I'm glad you came! I could really use some help with these experiments, if you're willing."
"Um… sure?" Sunset said, opting to watch Twilight carefully. She definitely wasn't doing well.
"Thanks!" Twilight said. "I've got five going here, which is two more than my usual maximum." She scrunched one side of her face. "Well, four now, since this one went bust." She jerked a thumb at her microscope.
"Anyway, would you be able to adjust that flame to about half?" She pointed to another active burner across the room.
"Sure." Sunset nodded and walked to the beaker to do just that—but made sure to keep an eye on Twilight, who went back to looking into the microscope.
As Sunset tweaked the flame, she watched Twilight clutch the microscope's base harder than anyone would to maintain laboratory safety. She considered saying something, but the very loud noise of the microscope scraping across the table startled Twilight out of her trance.
Twilight shook her head, closed her eyes, and took a deep breath to calm herself. Then, she went to the supply closet. As Twilight fetched a large beaker from one of its shelves, Sunset followed. She was just in time to see Twilight fumble with it on the way back.
Round and round it tumbled, as Twilight repeatedly tried to catch it, making little frantic noises the whole time. Sunset snapped to action, and stepped forward to grab it herself.
With a sheepish smile, Twilight mumbled a quick "th-thanks". She took the beaker from Sunset and placed it on the table, just in time to notice a boiling test tube over a low-flame burner. She perked up, and grabbed the nearby tongs, her eyes passing back over the microscope.
Sunset heard Twilight groan in frustration, then turn her attention back to the test tube... with hands that were now outright shaking as she reached for the tube with the tongs.
Worse, she'd forgotten to turn off the burner.
Sunset gently took Twilight's arm. Twilight hitched her breath in surprise. Never losing her gentleness, Sunset nudged Twilight's hand down, and took the tongs from her.
"That's it." Sunset grabbed a stool, and sat Twilight down. Then, starting with the open flame next to Twilight, she went around the room and turned off everything, from burners to machines.
Slowly, the lab's raucous noise faded, leaving only the soft hum of the fluorescent bulbs above. Sunset then locked the lab door, and pulled a second lab stool close to Twilight. "You and I are talking."
Twilight started to rise. "But my—"
"After," Sunset said, firmly. Just as firmly, she sat Twilight back down. "You're in no condition to be doing this level of science right now. And deep down, I'm sure you know that."
Twilight sighed, and looked down at her hands. They were bunching her slacks. With a visible show of will, she unclenched them.
"So. What's going on, Twilight?" Sunset asked. "What's got you shaking so bad?"
Twilight fiddled with her fingers, knotting them together. She adjusted her seat on the stool. She unknotted her fingers.
Sunset opened her mouth, but Twilight held up a hand and nodded. She took a deep breath, and exhaled it out.
"You know, things were really nice starting out?" Twilight finally said, softly. A small, half-smile pushed her cheek up a little. "With Timber, I mean. We would just hold hands, and walk, and talk. Camp Everfree's a pretty scenic place to do all that, to say nothing of just reading to each other. And it was..." Twilight stared into space, a dreamy look on her face.
"That camp has great atmosphere," Sunset agreed, relaxing a bit now that Twilight was talking. "I'm glad we were able to save it."
"Absolutely," Twilight said, nodding emphatically. "Of course, we eventually decided that me coming all the way out to camp all the time just wasn't practical, so we went other places. I showed him Sugarcube Corner, we went to the museum—and you remember the night we all went to the amusement park at the edge of Canterlot..."
"Yep," Sunset said. "I'd never seen you so happy. Didn't you tell me you kept trying to explain the mathematics of centripetal acceleration to him?"
Twilight giggled, putting a hand to her mouth. "You should have seen his face! Completely clueless the whole time," she said, rolling her hand. She shook her head, and added, "But it didn't matter at the time. Not one bit. And especially not after... well, I never told any of you this, but..." Her cheeks darkened thoroughly.
Sunset placed her hand on Twilight's shoulder. "Twilight, it's fine. Every couple makes out at the top. As best they can in a swinging cab, anyway."
"Wait." Twilight blinked. "Seriously?"
"Seriously." Sunset smirked. "Oh, and the two of you babbling like idiots at the end of the ride pretty much gave it away anyway. We just didn't say anything."
"See?" Twilight threw up her hands and laughed. "I mean, sure, I wish you'd told me back then, but this is why I come to you! You know this stuff!"
Sunset chuckled. "Yes, I am savvy with a few concepts of love. For everything else, there's Rarity." She winked. "But yeah, you've been living it up. This is the first time in weeks I've heard from you on a Friday. Honestly, I've..." Sunset sighed and rested her head in her hands. "...I've just kind of learned to leave that day alone, I guess."
Twilight blinked, her hand going to her mouth in shock. "I'm... really sorry about that, Sunset."
Sunset shook her head, trying to play off the butterflies Twilight's sincerity gave her. She flashed Twilight a dazzling smile.
"No, don't be," Sunset said, placing a reassuring hand on Twilight's leg. "Do you see what's happened? I mean, you've gone from Crystal Prep shut-in, to having a circle of friends, to even dating, all in less than half a year. Your pony princess counterpart would be ecstatic."
Removing her hand, she brought a finger to her chin as she stared up in thought. "Actually, she'd probably want to turn you into a documentary. So, don't let her." She elbowed Twilight, who giggled. "As for me... I'm overjoyed to just see you so happy. To see you smiling."
Twilight's smile faded. "That's just it, though," she said, with an exasperated huff.
Sunset cocked her head. "What do you mean?" she asked.
Twilight folded her hands and frowned slightly. "This whole last month, it's been... just more of the same. Worryingly so. Like, whenever we talk, Timber and I, we just... sort of repeat the same things over and over again."
She sighed and rubbed at her forehead. "The same conversations. The same jokes. The same lines. The same subjects—augh!" Twilight clutched her head and shook it. "That guy is trees, trees, trees!" She released her head, and looked at Sunset bemusedly. "Oh, and sometimes forests, I guess?"
Sunset chuckled. "Well, all of those are in his name."
"Yeah, but rocks aren't!" Twilight said, rolling her eyes. "Seriously, if he's not doing the tree thing, he's doing the rock thing. Geodes, jewels, boulders—I guess you could say he's got rocks in his head." She snickered.
Sunset snickered back, then shrugged. "It could be you two are just settling into a groove? The roller coaster of new romance only lasts so long. Eventually you find solace in the routine of companionship."
"That's what I thought, too," Twilight agreed. "But I think it's more that... we're settling into our own grooves."
Twilight stood up and walked to the window. Sunset followed her, and saw Twilight clutch the windowsill as she looked out at the horizon. It was a rich landscape, with plenty to see. Students played on the field below, cars drove on every visible road, and a majestic view of downtown stretched out in front of them. Even Camp Everfree could be seen in the far distance, if Sunset looked hard enough.
A light breeze trickled through the window. Twilight closed her eyes, letting it calm her. Sunset put her hand on Twilight's, and Twilight relaxed even more. She opened her eyes, a small, sad smile on her face.
"I can tell when we talk," Twilight said. "Whenever we spend time together. He has his passions. His dreams, his loves, his hopes. And... a-and that's fine, right? I totally get that.
"But I have mine, too. There's so much to see, to learn, to discover, to understand. About life here, and outer space, and also on a microscopic level, an atomic level..." She turned to face Sunset. "And that's only if I keep things confined to this universe! Which, of course, I won't."
Sunset smiled, and let Twilight continue.
"But when I bring any of this stuff up—I mean, I know he's willing to listen, and learn too, but he... he just can't keep up." Twilight sagged and leaned against the windowsill. She rubbed at her face beneath her glasses. "He smiles and nods. He asks questions, and those just lead to other, long explanations, where he smiles and nods again. Then he tells jokes, which I've come to learn is just him desperately not wanting to look like he's lost."
Twilight sighed and removed her glasses. She rubbed at the bridge of her nose. "But all it does it just make me feel bad for taking him out of his element." Twilight sighed again and replaced her glasses. "So I'll somehow steer things back to ecology. Which, admittedly, isn't my best field, but I can do fine. But most importantly, it's... it's safe. Because it's one of the few times we can ever have a two-way conversation."
Sunset nodded.
"An hours-long flurry of trees, rocks, and one-liners... and that's a 'date' these days." Twilight shook her head. "And that doesn't even count the number of times we've both caught each other... kind of spacing out when the other's talking." She rubbed her forehead. "Ugh."
"Wait, seriously?" Sunset exclaimed, surprised. "You? Losing track of a conversation? Not buying it. You and I can talk for hours, and there are times I have to distract you with something shiny just to get a word in."
Twilight snorted and shoved Sunset playfully. "Look who's talking!"
Sunset caught Twilight's hand, and grinned. Twilight grinned in response, cheeks flushing briefly. But it didn't last. She looked away, and Sunset released her.
Twilight sat on the edge of a nearby table. "It's different with us," Twilight said, softly. She chuckled and raised her head up, smiling again. "You and I talk about a whole lot of things. Our friends, the world, human nature, pony nature, science, magic, psychology and inner demons, all the schools in town, preparing for college, all the best foods and snacks, grading Pinkie's monthly 'just because' parties—"
"Babbling," Sunset interjected.
Twilight stopped. "Right, thanks. Anyway. It's just so weird, you know? Timber told me he was a city kid at heart growing up, but I guess more of Camp Everfree rubbed off on him than even he thought." Twilight stuck out her tongue. "A lot more."
Sunset nodded. Stepping over to Twilight, she sat beside her on the table.
"Twilight, have you told him any of this?" she asked. "I mean, about what you've just told me? About how you feel?"
Twilight shook her head. "No. I'm... I'm really scared to."
"Which I understand, I promise," Sunset said, touching Twilight's hand. "But you can't let it stop you."
"But..." Twilight trailed off, looking away. She fidgeted with her hair.
Sunset gently took Twilight's hand away from her hair, and turned Twilight's face towards her own. "Twilight, this is what dating is all about," she said. "Spending time with someone else, and enjoying yourselves, all in the name of learning every last thing you can about them, so you can grind them beneath your—"
Twilight squinted in confusion, head cocked at Sunset. Sunset realized one of her fists was clenched.
Sunset uncurled her hand, mortified. "O-oh gosh, I'm so sorry. Old reflexes..." she trailed off, averting her gaze.
Twilight closed her hand around Sunset's. "Don't be sorry. It's okay. Trust me, I've been there."
Sunset looked back up, meeting Twilight's understanding face.
This. She had missed this. She'd forgotten this. Sunset relaxed with a slow exhale. She and Twilight really needed to get back to seeing each other outside of school.
"What I mean," Sunset tried again, "is that you don't date because you already know how it's all going to be. You date so you can figure out for yourself whether or not you want to keep spending time with someone. Sharing all those dreams and loves you were talking about, and the experiences you both have along with all of that. This is all totally normal."
"Is it? I've never..." Twilight twisted her hands together. Her words came out whisper-soft. "This is my first time... dating."
Sunset clasped Twilight's hands.
"Then you're doing just fine," she said, reassuringly.
She grinned at Twilight. "Look, you've got a sizable chunk of this world's knowledge taking up both your left and right brains, powered by the curiosity of ten cats. Of course you're going to want someone who can measure up to that. And from what I've seen of Timber... well, he's got good wordplay, he's great in his chosen field, and he's got spirit. Whether or not that's where it stops?" She shrugged, released Twilight's hands, then placed one of her own on Twilight's shoulder. "That's up to you."
Twilight looked outside again, fixing her gaze on the city downtown. "And if… this was all Timber and I had? If this is where it… stops?" she said, weakly.
Sunset wrapped her arm around her. "Guess what? That's not your fault. Heck, it isn't even really his. People are different. And if you really crunch the numbers, given how many people exist on this planet, the odds of any two finding each other a 'perfect match' are a googol to one."
Twilight perked up, the corner of her lips tugging into a half-smile. "That small?" she gasped, with a giggle.
Sunset nodded confidently. "That small. It's why so many relationships involve things like compromise and work, and talking things through. They're almost never handed to you on a silver platter."
"I... I see," Twilight mused, her fingers to her chin. "You're making logical sense, and I thank you for that. But if I tell him how I feel..." Her face fell gradually with every word. "...all of how I feel, even past what I've already told you... I'm afraid that this'll end with me... not having a boyfriend anymore."
"Gee." Sunset smiled wryly. "And with only decades left to find a new one."
Twilight burst out laughing. "This is serious! I'm serious!" she squawked, trying to look indignant.
"So am I, Twilight," Sunset said, her smile now sincere. "You're talking to someone who's been dumped and lived to tell the tale. But who still gets asked out on dates. And who keeps saying no until she decides it's time again."
"Yes," Twilight countered, "but you have that luxury! I've seen students falling all over you! And for who knows how long—I haven't known you for half as long as everyone else has!" Twilight shook her head and started counting off fingers. "Let's see, I've witnessed guys and girls sticking notes in your locker, no less than two occurrences of casual flirting in class per day, and don't even get me started on gym class."
Sunset started to ask about gym class, but Twilight plowed on.
"And with good reason: you're a three-time hero, a brilliant scientist, and absolutely drop dead gorgeous!"
Sunset's breath hitched, and she blushed.
"What have I got?"
Sunset tried to stutter out a response, but Twilight still wasn't done. She swept her hand out the window, in the direction of downtown.
"For years at Crystal Prep, I had to listen to all the other girls talk about their great boyfriends, and all the things they bought them, and how they made them feel like they were everything to them! Like they had value! I wanted that!" Twilight exclaimed, pressing a hand to her chest. "I wanted to experience that love just once!
"And it finally happens, and it feels great! It's everything I've ever dreamed! And they all said it would never happen to 'that creepy science girl,' but it did, and I didn't have to change anything about myself for it to happen! So, of course..."
Twilight drooped, sliding down to the floor. She wrapped her arms around her legs and sighed deeply.
"...now, here I am, talking about throwing all of that away?" she whispered, voice tight.
Sunset placed a hand on Twilight's back, gently rubbing it. Twilight sighed again and rested her head against her knees.
"Maybe..." she murmured."Maybe the other girls at CPA were right. Maybe there really is something wrong with—"
"Don't ever let me hear you say that!"
Twilight looked up. Sunset had grasped her by the shoulders. Eyes bright, mouth in a firm line, she squeezed Twilight tightly. "Never again, Twilight," Sunset said. "Not ever. You hear me?"
"Sunset, you're..."
Sunset blinked and released Twilight. "I-I..." She turned away, hands shaking. She practiced her breathing. In and out. All was calm, all was serene. In and out. In and—
Twilight's hand appeared on her shoulder, and turned her back around. Twilight lifted up a lavender handkerchief and dabbed at Sunset's cheeks.
"I'm so sorry," Twilight whispered.
"Don't be. Please," Sunset said, shuddering with a sigh. She set her hands on the table and finished her deep breathing. Twilight left her hand on Sunset's shoulder, reassuring her.
"I know..." Sunset said, "I know what it's like to have had something wrong with you. Really wrong."
Twilight blinked. "But we both—"
"I'm not talking about magical demons, Twilight," Sunset said, looking back at her. "Just... personal ones."
Ugly memories, memories of someone so much angrier than she was now, memories of years past that Sunset desperately wished she could forget, yet never could, surfaced. "I was once just... just a very, very bad person," she said. "You don't have that problem. And especially after Everfree, I know you never will."
Sunset turned back around, and took both of Twilight's hands. She looked into Twilight's eyes, trying to project all her concern outward, trying to show Twilight how worried she was about her.
"So I don't ever want to hear you talk that way about yourself again," she pleaded. "Because you're so wonderful, Twilight. In ways most people just aren't. And... and in ways I most certainly wasn't."
Twilight squeezed Sunset's hands and stepped closer to her.
"You're wrong, Sunset," Twilight said, smiling brightly. "You're every bit as wonderful as you think I am. And I..." She looked away, then back up into Sunset's eyes, conviction shining through. "I really hope someday you'll stop doubting that. But until you do? I'll remind you. As often as you need."
Sunset smiled. She could hardly look at Twilight with those eyes—so big and bright. She didn't deserve those eyes.
Wiping at her own eyes, she forced a light laugh. "I think… we've gotten off topic. We were talking about you. And if I recall right... you mentioned love," she said, softly. "That's a strong word, Twilight. So, with Timber... do you feel it? Is it love?"
Twilight went quiet. Then, she said, "It was... fun." She sniffled. "For a while. Now…?" She shook her head and shrugged.
Sunset nodded. "Okay. Twilight, do you want the truth?" She took Twilight's hands again, and giving them a reassuring squeeze. "There is someone for you out there. I'm not saying that just to make you feel better, either. Because there isn't someone out there for everyone, despite what TV, or the Internet, or even your friends will tell you. Some people are just going to go through life single. And for them, that's totally okay too."
Sunset ran a thumb beneath Twilight's eye, catching a tear before it could fall any further. "But you won't be one of them," she said, soft and firm. "Because you are the one of the nicest, smartest, and most beautiful girls I've ever met, and it's only going to go up from here." Her smile shifted. "Seriously, if you don't have, like, your own corporate sciencey empire within the next five years, I promise you it's because some crazy nut from the future went back in time and messed with things."
Twilight laughed and snorted through her sniffles.
"There we go," Sunset said, smiling fondly. "Look, love is great when it sweeps you off your feet, but sometimes you have to let go of it. So that way, a better love, a better sweeping, and someone more willing to explore the world with you, can take its place." She released Twilight's hands and smiled.
"Partners will come and go, but you have the freedom to choose who they are," she said, poking a finger in Twilight's chest, "and to never stop choosing, until you find the one best for you." Sunset smiled fondly and ran a hand through Twilight's hair. "Never let go of that freedom, Twilight. It's one of the greatest things we have as people."
Her hand trailed down to Twilight's, interlocking their fingers. "Buuuuut, while you're choosing? I'll always be here." She tightened her hand briefly. "For whenever you need some support... or reminders of how wonderful you are."
"Always?" Twilight asked, squeezing back, barely able to meet Sunset's eyes.
"Always." Sunset beamed. "Hey. It's what we best friends do, right?"
"Y-... yeah. Looks like it is." Twilight bit her lip, then grinned. She wrapped her arms around Sunset, practically burying her face in Sunset's hair. "Thanks, Sunny. I... once again I'm reminded of just how lucky I am to have met you."
Sunset wrapped her arms around Twilight. The warmth was immediate and intense. "The feeling's mutual, Twi," she said.
"Sunny?" Twilight asked.
"Hmm?" Sunset answered.
"Why is it that... I can always talk to you about anything?"
"Because you're always worth listening to," Sunset replied, without pause.
Twilight shuddered and smiled. "...t-thank you. That means a whole lot." She stepped in closer, hugged Sunset tighter, and rested her chin on Sunset's shoulder. "Can... can we just...?"
Sunset buried her fingers in Twilight's hair. "As long as you want."
"Thanks," Twilight whispered, and the two held their embrace. Twilight once hitched from a sniffle, and Sunset caressed her back comfortingly with one hand, but otherwise, they were still.
Eventually, Twilight let go, relaxed. "Feeling better?" Sunset asked.
Twilight took off her glasses to wipe her eyes, then put them back on. "Uh huh. A little... braver. I know what I have to do."
"Great to hear," Sunset said, with a grin. "I have to go talk to Principal Celestia about some clubs before the building closes. Text me when you want to talk, okay? I want to know how things go."
"I will," Twilight said, with a nod.
"Great. I'll see you later."
Sunset walked towards the door, and was just about to put her hand on the lever, when-
"Sunset?"
She turned around to see Twilight walking towards her.
"I..." Twilight stopped just shy of her and looked down, then back up at Sunset with wide eyes. "I have a feeling... once Timber and I talk, and get everything out in the open... I'll need some of that support this weekend. Do... do you want to hang out?"
Sunset ignored the little leap of her heart, but made sure to flash Twilight her most reassuring smile. "I would like nothing better."
Twilight's face lit up in turn. "Great! I-I'll text you when I'm free. Of course."
"Of course. It's a date," Sunset said. Then, she blushed. "M-maybe not the best choice of words? S-sorry."
Twilight's expression shifted, into a determination that Sunset had rarely witnessed. She shook her head, and, too quickly for Sunset to react, closed the distance between them, and placed a kiss on her cheek.
And Sunset Shimmer nearly fainted from the heat that rushed to the spot where Twilight's lips met her skin.
Twilight looked into her eyes. Her smile was Sunset's... and her next words were soft and inviting.
"Don't be."
Author's Note
