The wind decided to sleep in that morning, a welcome reprieve from its usual playfulness. Snow fell slowly, wanting to be caught, and found sanctuary in the frayed rip of a scarf faded to gray.
He shivered, years in Manehatten having done nothing to prepare him for the frozen fangs that Canterlot’s winter now bared. Despite the predatory chill, the key levitated without fault, sliding into the lock with the ease acquired from years of repetition. A simple turn right, and he was in.
With a fluidity seen in those years his senior or weight divisions lighter, it was barely a half-breath before he stood behind the door, closed once again. The inside was dark, though warmer than the outside. Even if not by much.
“Whew! Blasted winter’s gettin’ colder by the minute. Hope the heater still works!”
Switches flipped, lights on. The chairs still upside-down on the tables from the previous afternoon. Behind the counter, another switch, and the hum of heat trays signaled the start of a new day.
A frown crossed his brow, noticing a small patch of leftover crumbs separated from their brothers and sisters in the trash bin. His reflection mimicked his scrunched expression, perfectly copying the cream-colored coat, tan mane and tail, green eyes, and horn. The fact that it also fully imitated his heavyset build was surely meant to be flattering.
“Joe, it might just be one of those days,” he sighed.
The ovens and fryers dinged before he knew it. Being caught up in preparing the various doughs has a tendency to make time fly by, apparently. Not long after, the first batches were ready, and soon after that, the bell above the door rang.
Customers!
A hardhat on one, tools stuffed into his belt’s numerous loops. His counterpart wore glasses and a semi-formal suit.
Two glazed and coffees, black. Rivet Puncher and Riveting Tale! Joe smiled, the order ready before the Ponies even made it to the cashier. Gratitude was shown in bits, a nod from one, and a half-awake smile the other, before they walked out into the sluggishly rising dawn.
***
Another ring, a Pegasus stallion and filly, the bi-monthly duo.
“Ey there, Thunderstruck! This winter givin’ ya a headache, too?”
A yellow wing massaged its owner’s temple amidst his frazzled, electric blue mane.
“You have no idea, Joe. It’s bad enough on the ground with my sinuses, but up there? I’ve been grounded ‘til I see a doctor. Don’t want a repeat of last night, ya know?”
“Heh, gotta admit; frying the power for five blocks with one cloud’s pretty impressive.”
Young, eager, hopeful, hungry, light blue eyes peeked over the counter, nearly invisible beneath the dark and light pink striped mane. Her chocolate and white splattered wings flapped almost soundlessly.
Joe winked, pulling two bags from the back display case, along with two steaming cups of milk. The filly’s mane was drawn in for a nibble as her tongue made its course ‘round her lips, an almost-smile hovering on the edge of escape.
“Two brown sugar and cinnamon oat cake donuts, plus milk, as usual,” Joe grinned, warming up to the dance of the day.
Thunderstruck shook his head with a smile, still massaging and wincing. “Don’t know how you keep remembering that. We don’t come in as much as your regulars.”
Joe waved a hoof dismissively. “Pfft! You and Owldown come here every other Friday! You’re both regulars to me.”
He smiled warmly. “Thanks Joe. Owlie, sweetie? Didn’t you bring something for Mr. Joe?”
Owldown’s brow rose in question, then understanding. She retrieved a paper from her saddlebag and glided over to the counter, where it was gently placed. A drawing of an elderly Earth Pony mare, pulling a steaming baking tray from the oven as Joe watched on.
Thanks for sharin’ the recipe, Granny Oatley. We still miss you.
“Aww, thanks sweetheart! I’m gonna stick this on my fridge in the kitchen.”
A pair of bits, and hugs, and the day rolled by like a ball down a hill. Sadly there was a ramp halfway down, a ring of fire, and a wall at the end.
***
Again, the bell tolled as Joe finished cleaning up the last table. Who, in their right mind, challenges Pinkie Pie to an eatin’ contest?! I’ll be lucky to get enough ingredients for even half of-
“Excuse me, Joe?”
His head raised from an internal monologue, Joe turned to his left. Eyes like strawberry milk, a blue cotton candy coat, and a braided jet black tail with a streak of gray running its length, just like her mane. She shook the snow off her wings as Joe found his words, along with a raised eyebrow.
“Gentle Rain? What brings you here?”
A warm smile reached behind her half-moon glasses, meeting her eyes at the crinkles. “Just checking to see if you’re still up for the C.A.F.E. charity bake-sale in a couple of days. Some of the other bakeries had to pull out. Cinnamon Chai’s Tea & Cake Shop got swamped by orders from Prince Blueblood every night for his parties this past week. Chocolate Chip’s Cookies’ old gas oven exploded and burned down the kitchen yesterday and the Em-Pie-Er, that new pie place that opened up a few months ago? Just had all their stock eaten by a Wonderbolt this morning.”
She stared at the floor dejectedly.
Joe rubbed the back of his neck, puzzled. “Don’t you mean Wonderbolts?”
Gentle Rain raised her head with a deadpan look. “Nope.”
“Oh. Well, what about that cheesecake chain from Neigh York?”
“The Factory? They barely show up half the time.”
“SpunkyMare Cookies?”
“Turned us down. Again.”
“Mrs. Hayfield’s?”
“Opens in Canterlot next month. And no, that cafe in Hay Orleans isn’t planning on branching out anytime soon, either.”
Joe’s eyes widened in fear. “Sugarcube Corner?”
The name brought a small grin to Gentle Rain’s face. “When have Pinkie Pie and the Cakes ever let us down?”
He wiped the sweat off his brow, letting out a breath he did not realize had been held in. “Whew! You really had me goin’ there for a while. Well, you can bet your sprinkles I’ll be there! I wouldn’t miss this even if Celestia herself came in and asked me to.”
Gentle Rain’s foreleg reached up to give Joe a firm hug. “Thanks, Joe. You’re a great friend.”
Has it really been that long since she foalsat me? he thought as she walked out. I remember when she didn’t have glasses, or those gray streaks. Eh, enough reminiscin’. Back to work!
***
“Needs just a little more ginger,” Joe muttered, licking the citrusy filling off his muzzle.
He started cleaning up the rest of the Liquid Gold Donut filling before it could stain his walls permanently, but the bell decided he could do it later. With a low grumble Joe grabbed a nearby rag, wiped off the rest of the jelly along with his frown, and entered the store with a clean face and smile.
The Guardspony at the register retained his neutral expression.
“Well, looks like somepony’s needin’ his double-glazed, caramel-drizzled, cream-filled on-the-job treat, am I right?”
A single nod was his only response.
Joe gave the basically-living-statue a wink before disappearing back into the kitchen. “Comin’ right up!”
As he returned, Joe found the bits on the counter along with what appeared to be a letter. After putting away the coins, the guard made his way to the door, treat in bag with his bottle of water.
“Ey! You left your letter!”
“Yours,” the guard replied, not stopping.
Puzzled and more than a bit curious, Joe opened the envelope, addressed ‘To Joe.’
“Dear Joe,” he read aloud, “We hope this letter finds you well this season, and we profusely express our apologies in advance. Due to a bit of misplaced paperwork, the letter originally meant to be sent to you last week was lost.
“While it is, indeed, quite a short notice, all of the other bakeries in Canterlot are currently indisposed in one way or another. And so, while we understand you yourself must also be attendin’ to numerous matters for the upcomin’ Hearth’s Warming Eve celebrations, we implore you to consider caterin’ for the Guardspony Hearth’s Warming Social, two days from now.
“We will understand if you are unable to do so, and wish you a joyous time. Should you accept, please let us know as soon as possible, to make the proper arrangements.
“Sincerely, Princess Celestia and Princess Luna”
Well, what do you know? Joe thought with a smile. That’s the same day as-
His thoughts froze as smile dropped and his pupils shrunk to pinpoints, reading the letter once, twice, thrice more.
No… no… no. No. No. No. No, no, no, nononoNONONO! he mentally screamed.
***
Joe grumbled, grunted, growled and snorted to himself as he finished cleaning up the last of the globs from the walls, more than ready to close up and sleep. He silently hoped the next morning would bring him an answer, or at least some free ingredients, as the bell jingled.
Huh? Who’d come in this close to closin’ time? Well, let’s see who came over, he thought, unhappily.
Joe walked through the kitchen door. “Almost closed up, but what ca-”
Joe was unable to finish his greeting, as his jaw hit the cash register. His eyes were glued to the mare who had walked in and was perusing the list of daily specials. The ding of the change-drawer caused her to look up, and at, Joe.
Everything about her, from her chocolate cherry coat, to her whipcream-hued mane, to the almond shape of her turquoise eyes, was just as Joe remembered. Her mane, as well as her tail, flowed like waterfalls made of clouds made of marshmallow cream, and her Cutie Mark... Two pieces of chocolate filled with a gooey red center, with a bite taken out of the foremost one.
He had had dreams about finishing off that piece.
Sweating like a rainstorm and tugging as his shirt’s collar, Joe stammered in a voice squeaky enough to buck him back to puberty. “Ch-ch-ch-cherry Cordial?!”
A giggle escaped her lips, which caused Joe to blush redder than her coat. Her eyes took on a smoky undertone as she slowly sauntered up to him, her Cutie Mark noticeably wobbling in time with her steps. She spoke in a voice as light as a mousse, and twice as rich.
“You know, I was looking at all the kinds of donuts you have, taking forever to pick one. They all just sounded so… scrumptious. I kept going back… and forth. And then it dawned on me!”
She brought her lips close to his ear, and made sure each word was a puff of barely audible breath. “I think… I want… a… Donut… Joe.”
As Cherry Cordial’s lusciously soft lips came closer and closer, intent on latching onto his ear, Joe would have whinnied in ecstasy, had he not brought the frying pan down on her head with a solid ‘bong.’
***
A headache, groaning, a blurry face that came into focus. Eyes… green eyes. Exceptionally displeased eyes. The eyes of-
The Donut Pony!
Joe fixed his stern glare on his captive, not even blinking as he unleashed the tirade that had been building up since that morning like a water balloon glued to a non-stop faucet. The unwilling listener was unable to move, having been tied to the massive, marble-topped table.
“Great… just… great. Ya know? This is fan-flapjack-flippin’-tastic. It ain’t bad enough that I gotta restock from Pinkie Pie’s unscheduled eatin’ contest, that the Colts And Fillies of Equestria charity bake-sale’s down some helpin’ hooves, and that the Princesses themselves wrote me a letter askin’ to cater for the Royal Guards on the same night. Oh, no. On toppa that, I gotta deal with a Changelin’ tryin’ to schmooze me for some love!”
The Changeling gulped, giving Joe a sheepish, wholeheartedly embarrassed grin, unable to shrug due to the ropes threaded around and through its swiss-cheese-like appendages.
“Sssorry… ?” it hissed in an oddly feminine voice.
Joe’s left eye began to twitch, jerking once every now and then, until it began to blur like a hummingbird’s wing, as he spoke, anger rising, “Sorry? You’re… sorry?! Ohhh no. You’re not sorry yet. You’ll be sorry after I turn you over to the Royal Guard. What in glazes are you even doin’ in Canterlot?! I thought Shinin’ Armor and Princess Cadance knocked every Changelin’ to the other side of the Everfree Forest after you guys showed up!”
Its large, orange eyes took on a thoughtful look, staring up at the ceiling. “Funny ssstory. One minute, I’m herding poniesss into the marketplaccce, nexxxt thing I know, thisss pink-bubble-thing popsss up out of nowhere and ssslamsss me into an abandoned ssstore. I wake up, everyone’sss gone, can’t hear the Queen in my head, and I’ve been trying to sssurvive ever sssinccce. Been doing jobsss here and there jussst to get by on ssscrapsss of love and sugar-”
“‘Cause it’s the sweetest thing next to love, right?” Joe cut in, not even raising an eyebrow as he leaned his head back from its face.
The Changeling was shocked, jaw slack, eyes wide, stuttering, “H-h-how d-d-did you know?”
Joe smiled with just a dash of smugness. “Let’s just say that Canterlot’s got a policy about intelligence. But enough about that. You say you’ve been livin’ on your own, outside of the hive, here?”
It nodded. “Uh-huh. Not easssy, let me tell you. Mossst nightsss I’m sssitting in an alley, feeding off of any emotionsss that passs by. Love, hate, sssadnesss, fear, depression. By the way, don’t try depression. It tassstesss like sssalty, burnt licorice. Ick!”
Joe carefully weighed the Changeling’s words, noting its closed eyes and extended tongue as it grimaced in disgust. “So, what you’re sayin’ is, ya haven’t had a decent meal in a while.”
It looked away, a hungering sadness in its downcast eyes as it nodded.
Joe closed his eyes and sighed heavily. “Well, sorry ‘bout that. Still takin’ ya to the Guards, though.”
It turned back to him, eyes nearly popping out of their sockets. “Pleassse! I don’t want to lossse myssself to the Queen again! Anything! I-I’ll do anything! I’m a worker drone! I can lift, carry, follow ordersss, jussst-”
Joe cut off its’ pleading with a stern glare and low voice, “Do ya know how to bake?”
It nibbled on its lower lip, trying to look anywhere but into his eyes, as tears leaked from its own. “No… ”
Joe let out a frustrated groan as he face-hoofed, his aura once again billowing around his horn. The Changeling clenched its eyes tightly, waiting for the frying pan to clock its noggin. Exoskeleton or no, frying pans hurt.
But it never came. What came was the undoing of the ropes. Eyes wide with confusion, fear, and suspicion turned their gaze upon Joe as he smiled, a small bag of sugar floating in front of the Changeling.
“Guess I’ll have to teach ya, then.”
***
“And that’s how ya make a glaze,” Joe yawned. He glanced over to the kitchen’s clock, noting that he would have to get to work in a few hours. Not the first time he had had to work into the wee hours, and not the last. No, not with what lay ahead. Wonder if I’m gonna be sleepin’ at all before all this is over, he mulled.
“Missster Joe? Are you okay?”
The hissing voice brought him back to his parallel reality. Joe blinked away his thoughts, and looked at the Changeling, noticing the flour on the back-up apron he’d brought out for it, and the patch of batter hardening against its cheek from the incident with the eggbeaters. Its eyes were full of genuine concern, much to his surprise. Or maybe he was just tired and it was curiosity instead.
“Yeah, I’m fine, just tired. Well, ya got some of the basics down. We’ll practice the rest tomorrow, ‘cause I need to sleep. Sugar’s in the cabinet left of the fridge, just don’t eat all of it. There’s a spare room I use when I work late, yours for now. G’night.”
Looking around at the mess, a question raised. “What about the kitchen?”
Joe wearily waved off the query as he turned to leave. “I’ll get to it in the mornin’. Now, I need sleep.”
Again came the hiss, a different question walking beside it. “Am I sssupposssed to believe that you trussst me with thisss placcce? What if I decccide to eat all the sugar? Or break sssomething? Or sssteal the bitsss from the register?”
Grumbling as he turned around, the bags under his eyes packed and ready for their long-awaited trip to dream-land for what felt like years, Joe pounded his hoof gently against the floor for each reason he listed. “One: I don’t trust ya.
“Two: that sugar I gave you before we started had a trackin’ spell on it, like everything else here. Try to leave, I’ll find ya, and take ya to the Guards.
“Three: if ya really were gonna do any of that, ya wouldn’t’ve said anythin’.
“Four: the bathroom’s next to the spare room. Take a shower. Please.”
***
The door unlocked a few hours before dawn, and Joe was unsurprised at the state the store was in: untouched. However, the kitchen was a different matter, as the lamps flickered on. He thought it was a trick of the light, but Joe could’ve sworn that parts of the counters, floor, and refrigerator were actually sparkling in their cleanliness. After rubbing his eyes twice, he confirmed that the kitchen was in fact clean, and it was not a dream.
As the door to the spare room opened, Joe looked to find a fairly tired-looking Changeling slowly step out, eyes half-lidded. It continued shambling forward until the counter decided to stop it, making it hiss in pain, rubbing its head.
Suppressing a snicker, Joe grabbed a washcloth with his magic, and ran it under the sink faucet, before presenting it to the Changeling.
“Ya know, I forgot to ask. What’s your name? Or do ya have one?”
The Changeling looked at him for a moment, shocked, before taking the wet cloth and rubbing it over the horn. “Name? Usually I jussst ussse the name of whoever I’m copying, or make one up, but membersss of the hive don’t have namesss, just jobsss. I guesss… you could call me Worker?”
Joe rubbed his chin, staring at the ceiling in thought, then looked back to the curious being before him, smiling. “Well, if you’re gonna help me get all the preparations done for the C.A.F.E. and the Guards, we’re gonna hafta work twice as fast. So, ‘til this is all over, how about I call ya Double-Time?”
Its brow furrowed in concentration as one of its hooves rubbed an elbow, the Changeling looked back to Joe with a grateful smile across its face, before walking over and giving him a hug. “I… thank you. I’ve never had anything of my own before. Thank you ssso much!”
Joe, unsure of what to do, decided to hug her back, and found that while different and a bit unusual, hugging a Changeling was not a bad experience. Despite having an exoskeleton, she was surprisingly soft. As the realization hit Joe’s brain he quickly, and awkwardly, ended the hug, blushing with an embarrassed grimace on his face.
“Uh… you’re welcome. Now, before we do anythin’ else, you’ll need a disguise so ya don’t scare anypony. Can ya only copy, or can ya mix-and-match?”
Double-Time took a few moments, then answered. “Well, I’ve never tried combining looksss together before. But, I sssuppossse I could give it a try. What should I look like?”
“Just pick parts of other ponies ya like, and put them together. Manestyles, coat colors, that kinda stuff.”
She nodded, closed her eyes, and concentrated. Well, let’s see. What do I want to look like? How about…
Joe watched as Double-Time slowly changed, the greenish fire of transformation shifting around her like a wavering candle. It sluggishly crawled from the sole of her hooves to the tip of her horn. She let out a sigh full of content as her grin stretched from ear to ear.
“Well? How do I look?”
Joe took his time in responding, looking over her new form. Her coat reminded him of hot chocolate on a cold winter’s day, her mane and tail both braided, mid-length, and the color of blueberry jam. The Cutie Mark she had constructed were two clock faces, side by side, and her eyes… her eyes were that same shade of golden-orange, but now fitted to a pony’s eyes. Joe had to roughly shake his head to stop his thoughts in their tracks.
Don’t know why she picked a Unicorn, but it’ll do, he thought
“Ya look great! I don’t know anypony who looks like ya,” he smiled. “Well, let’s get to work!”
“Yeah!” she replied, excited to be working again.
***
Double-Time’s excitement did not last half an hour, sad to say. While Joe was a Unicorn, she had expected him to use magic to make the donuts, glazes, cinnamon rolls, and such, hence why she had decided to be a Unicorn. Joe, however, made everything by hoof, only using his magic to grab something out of reach or to clean; never to mix, bake, fry, or slather. After having this reality firmly poke her in the ribs, Double-Time wondered if she would not be better off in the care of the Royal Guard.
Then again, I doubt any of the Guards are as nice as J-
She stopped her thoughts so suddenly they got a case of whiplash, and instead focused on making sure the dough she was kneading would not get too tough, when Joe popped his head in.
“Ey, Double-Time! Just lettin’ ya know I’m headed out to get some ingredients for tomorrow. Watch the front ‘til I get back, ‘kay?”
She quirked an eyebrow, still kneading the squishy blob. “Are you sure that’s a good idea? I mean, I’ve worked a register before and all, bu-”
“I’ll only be gone an hour, maybe an hour-and-a-half, tops. Besides, most ponies are busy buyin’ gifts right now, not donuts. Might not even get any regulars today.”
Still unsure but wanting to make a good impression, Double-Time winced. “Wellll… I guess so.”
Joe gave her a small grin. “There’s a list of regulars next to the register, and prices for everythin’. See ya soon!”
After he disappeared, Double-Time finished kneading the dough, and put it in the fridge for later. She found the list next to the register, just where Joe said it would be, and quickly became bored with her newfound position. The second hand on the clock constantly mocked her, seeming to take an eternity for each tic and toc.
Movement out of the corner of her eye made Double-Time do a doubletake as she looked outside, squinting at the painted words as she read them aloud.
“Canterlot Tours. ”
***
Joe grinned all the way back to his shop. Sure, he had been gone for two hours, but with the deals he had gotten, especially what he had gotten, he felt more than justified in taking a little extra time. After all, few ponies hated getting a treat their first day on the job.
As Joe walked into his store, his grin was replaced with a look like that of horror movie victims.
The chairs were scattered about, tables littered with the remnants of customers past. Napkins, paper cups both empty and not, and a grisly massacre of sugar packets best left to the police, were everywhere.
“How in the hay did the creamer get on the ceiling?!” Joe yelled.
“You do not want to know!” gasped the answer from behind the counter.
Joe moved at a brisk trot, minding his hooves and where they stepped. He found Double-Time lying on the floor, breathing heavily. Her mane had come undone from its braid, and stuck up in almost every conceivable angle, as though she had plugged her tail into a socket. Which she may have, considering its burnt tips.
Her face was caked in dough, looking like a facial mask gone horribly wrong, and there was nary a spot on her apron free from icing, glaze, or jelly. She tried to catch her breath, but failed as it zoomed away. So she went back to panting like a dog, complete with her tongue lolling to the side.
Concern was carved into Joe’s face as he waited for Double-Time to begin breathing normally. When it seemed she was ready, he helped her up to a sitting position, and asked, “What happened?”
Even though she was trembling, Double-Time took a very deep breath, and answered it all in one go, “Canterlot Tours brought in a group from Manehatten there were around forty of them a lot of kids and they were all in a hurry and I had to make more donuts and got zapped when the mixer went haywire and I tried to unplug it with my tail ‘cause I had a tray of jelly donuts and they exploded and I fell onto the frosted donuts we had cooling before and-and-and… wahhh!”
Joe stood there, stunned, as he watched Double-Time bury her face in her hooves, bawling her eyes out and saying ‘I’m sorry’ over and over.
His lips pressed into a thin line before turning into a snarl, his eyebrows crushed so close together they almost looked like monobrow, and his chest heaved slowly in and out.
Without a word, Joe walked passed Double-Time into the kitchen, knowing clearly what he needed to do.
Noticing him pass her, Double-Time slowed her crying down to just sniffling occasionally, and followed a bit after. When she found Joe using the kitchen’s phone, however, panic became her new best friend.
Double-Time leaped forward, afraid that he was calling the Guard, yelling “Waaaiiittt-” before being held in mid-air. Joe’s familiar green aura had surrounded her, and was somehow keeping her quiet. Joe watched her like a vulture, angrily waiting for the ringtone.
“Hello. Canterlot Tours? This is Joe. Yeah, that Joe. I got a funny story for ya. I leave my new assistant to mind the store for a bit, ‘cause business is slow today, and I got nothin’ scheduled on my calendar about a tour, but while I’m gone, my store gets hit with a crowd from where else but Manehatten.
“No, I’m sure about the dates. Check again. No, you listen. I know for a fact there’s not supposed to be a tour today, so stop bein’ a high-horse Ms.… what’s your name? Holly? Holly Wreath?
“Call up Lucky Day, Holly. Yeah, your manager. ‘Cause if ya put me on hold, so help me Celestia, I will walk up to his house and tell him, in person, that you screwed up the tour dates, Holly! Now, Lucky has my number. Tell him it’s me, and I expect a call in the next five minutes.”
Double-Time only watched in awe, eyes wide, jaw to the floor, as Joe fired his rage cannon, and hung up, waiting for the call. After being lowered to the ground, she was unable to speak beyond a single word:
“Why?”
Seeming much calmer than before, Joe gave her a sympathetic look. “Kid, this is your first day workin’ here. Ya had to deal with an unscheduled group of tourists from one of the grumpiest cities in Equestria. Trust me, I know. Ya did it all while I was gone, and even though the store looks like a tornado blew through it, I saw the register. Ya did great on sales. Might be we can restock and prepare for tomorrow. Besides, Lucky and me? We’re old friends. He knows not to pull this kinda thing with me.”
The phone rang before Double-Time could respond. Joe spoke more calmly, taking his time.
“Hello? Ey, Lucky. Uh-huh. Uh-huh. I see. Well, tell Holly she messed up, but go easy. She’s new, ya know? Yeah, you too, Lucky. Tell the kids Uncle Joe says ey. Huh? All right. How’s next week sound? Good? Good. Just remember to bring the table this time. We’ll see. What? Yeah, right! Ya pull that off and I’ll make that special treat ya like so much, deal? Good talkin’ to ya, Lucky. Buh-bye.”
Joe turned back to Double-Time, rested a hoof on her shoulder, and gave her a small smile of pride. “I think ya earned a break. How ‘bout ya take a shower, get twenty bits outta the register, and get some lunch? Come back in an hour or two, I’ll have this place cleaned up, ready to go. Well? Scoot!”
***
Although the Hayburger in Canterlot was not the best food in town, it was passable, if slightly over-greasy. Double-Time didn’t mind, though. She had snacked on the butterscotch-flavored happiness from the mare at the counter, then topped it off with her large cherry soda and vanilla ice cream cone. The burger and fries were mostly there for show, but she ate them as well, trying to maintain the disguise.
Looking at the clock from her underneath her umbrella-covered table, Double-Time shivered slightly, despite the sun being bright.
Little over an hour left. Guess I could just head back and ask Joe if I can take a nap for the rest-
“Well! Fancy meeting you here!”
Turning away from the clock, Double-Time faced an average Earth Pony. Literally, average in almost every way. Light tan coat, short brown mane and tail, and brown eyes. Only his Cutie Mark set him apart from the masses, being seven bees arranged in a hexagon, the center one green while the the rest were the typical yellow. He gave her a creepy smile, eyes half-lidded, and acted as if he knew her.
Double-Time tilted her head to the side, and gave him a quizzical look, her voice carrying a hint of nervousness. “I’m sorry, but I think you’re mistaking me for somepony else.”
His smile grew into a grin full of secrets, and his oily, Canterlot-accented voice, coupled with his completely relaxed posture only served to unnerve her further as he continued, “Oh, you are correct. We never have officially met. But I know who you are. You, my dear, are a busy little bee, who happens to be lost. Outside of her hive.”
Double-Time’s blood ran cold, and she felt sweat bead at her forehead as the trembling started. Her eyes were nearly all white, her breath shuddered, as realization hit her in the gut like a boxing dragon.
A look of insincere remorse sprang on his face as he brought a hoof over his mouth, “Oh! I simply must beg your pardon. I seem to have neglected introducing myself. I am… Illustrious.”
“Y-y-you’re a-a-”
“Yes. I am. And so, my dear, are you, albeit a different class. Worker, I believe?”
She nodded, and failed to suppress her shivers as her singular thought repeated, over and over again, like a broken record, He’s an Infiltrator!
“Then I shall make this quite simple. You have entered into a… partnership with Joe, and this puts you in a position to be of some use to me. My associates and I are well aware of Joe’s predicament concerning certain upcoming festivities, and wish to help by giving him some relief. And, of course, the best way to go about that is by relieving him of his final products. Rationed appropriately, we would need not worry about feeding throughout the rest of the season.”
The sheer audacity of what he implied outraged Double-Time, and gave her enough courage to halt her shaking as she brought a hoof to slam down on the table. “If you think for a moment I’m going to turn my back on Joe, you’re-”
“Absolutely correct, in this instance,” he interrupted, Double-Time’s hoof stuck mid-swing. “You see, Joe left the bakery to bring a treat he had picked up for you while he was out, and I timed my introduction to occur moments before the two of us came into his view. In other words, he has been watching our conversation this entire time. Oh, no need look so taken aback. Did you expect someone of my class to not have planned out this scenario?”
A loud gulp was her only response. His was to lean in closer, staring into her eyes intently as one of his shifted from brown to a Changeling’s eye. Though his was green instead of blue, and changed quickly enough to only be seen by Double-Time and Joe.
“Now, what do you believe he will make of this? Nothing good, I can assure you. Joe is unlikely to trust you past this point, and as such will be the case, he is most assuredly to take your help with his confections, and then promptly toss you out into the cold. As things stand, you only have one option available to you that ends somewhat in your favor. Agree to become part of my entourage, participating in this current as well as my future endeavors, and you shall receive not only a portion of the spoils, but shall be welcomed as our newest member. Consider this your initiation.
“Should you choose to decline… well. I must admit, I am certainly curious as to the reaction of the Royal Guard. Whatever would they do upon discovering that a citizen of Canterlot had been harboring a Changeling? Granted, I have a number of theories, but am quite interested to see which one would become a reality. I do apologize, but while it has been splendid conversing with you, I am a busy bee myself. I will see you soon, Double-Time.”
He trotted away and let loose a single, controlled snicker before his face relaxed into an easygoing, almost carefree smile, hoofsteps light and bouncy. Double-Time watched him go, and failed to notice as Joe walked up behind her, until he cleared his throat.
She stiffened, slowly turned around in her seat, and gave him sheepish a grin that was half ‘how-much-did-you-hear?’ and half ‘this-isn’t-what-it-looks-like.’ Joe kept his face empty of any emotion, though there may have been just the tiniest flicker of sadness in one of his eyes.
He let out a sigh, and seemed to grow older as he deflated like a worn-out balloon, before speaking in a somber tone, “Well, he was right about one thing. So, here’s what I’m gonna do…”
Double-Time’s eyes grew wider with each passing word, and filled with so many tears as to make them appear to be gigantic droplets of water. Having held out to the end, she finally turned back to the table and rested her forehead atop her hooves. She gasped, bawled, and puddled her anguish onto the table, before it flowed to the snow-dusted sidewalk.
***
Only three sounds could be heard the next night as Joe made his way to Canterlot Orphanage. The clip-clop of his hooves, the creak of his cart as he hauled it behind him, and the telltale, inaudible music that accompanies evil intent. Joe trotted down the sidewalk, the buildings around him broken, busted, and bedraggled; a testament to the progress of Canterlot’s renovation incentive. The snowflakes drifted down like feathers, and gave every accessible surface the look of vanilla icing. Though in the dark it bore a closer resemblance to gray mud.
The lampposts provided as much comfort as they did light, having been unused for so long. Joe’s magical aura billowed around his horn, and provided him with at least some form of visibility against the never-ending void. Although, he began to regret even his horn’s limited form of vision. At least in the dark he would not have been able to see the shadows a few blocks down, growing in size and distinction as, step by step, they drew closer.
Joe turned right at the next alleyway, and broke into a canter until he reached the other side. Upon his exit he noticed four more sets of shadows had manifested, placed in such a way as to corral him into the nearest side-street. Severely outnumbered and outmaneuvered, his speed hindered by the cart, Joe obliged them and walked into uncertainty, who awaited him with open hooves.
The buildings on either side were identical in their brick structures, making all the paths even more confusing in their maze-like design. Joe treated the shadows that appeared before him like detour signs, and turned right, right again, then finally left, into a dead end alley.
He heard multiple sets of hoofsteps close in, blocking his only means of escape as they crowded like a mob intent on seeing a celebrity. Four individuals broke off from the group, stepping into the light of Joe’s aura.
An orange, muscular Earth Pony mare with a long, shaggy gray mane and tail as well as light blue eyes. A slim, violet Pegasus stallion with a short, neatly trimmed gold and green striped mane and tail, along with the same blue eyes. Double-Time, her eyes bloodshot, but set in a firm line of anger like her jawline. Finally, an Earth Pony stallion average in every way, whom Joe recognized from the day before. Illustrious stepped ahead of the rest, Double-Time by his side, as he grinned triumphantly.
His tone mocked, happily sarcastic in its condescension, “Why, good evening, Mr. Joe. I believe we have been bereft of a proper introduction, which I shall rectify, should you allow. You may refer to me as Illustrious, and I must admit, it is quite a surprise to find one such as yourself out and about at these hours, and in this decrepit portion of fabulous Canterlot. Especially, considering this happens to be Hearth’s Warming Eve. Do you, perhaps,” he paused to gasp in mock surprise, “have somewhere important to be? An imperative quest that hinges upon your valiant efforts?! I am so dreadfully sorry for detaining you in such a fashion! By your leave, I shall halt your endeavors no further. Carry on, noble stallion! Carry on.”
Illustrious ended his little speech as he struck a pose, closing his eyes and gesturing towards the end of the alley, as well as the huddled swarm blockading it. Joe rolled his eyes as Illustrious half-opened his, and gave a conceited smile, while his hoof lowered to the ground.
“I thank you for indulging in my flair of the dramatic, Mr. Joe. Though you appear to be unappreciative of my performance, the fact that you so graciously held your tongue the whole while is, in of itself, greatly appreciated. Now, to the delicious matter at hoof. Am I correct in assuming that your cart is filled to the brim with quite a bounteous load of your renowned baked goods?”
Joe’s eyes remained locked onto Double-Time, and barely even registered the flamboyant Earth Pony’s little monologue. Illustrious followed Joe’s gaze, and his face brightened with understanding.
“Ah, I see. You wish to converse with your former underling. By all means, please do! Surely, you both have a great deal to discuss, having parted company this morning so, so long ago. Very well then! Begin regaling each other with myriad tales of thrilling adventure, provocative romances, dastardly scoundrels, climaxing with the revelation of what is the deepest, truest meaning of friendsh-”
“Phhbbt!”
Illustrious stopped, shocked at the interruption unleashed by Joe, who held a grin overflowing with content. His jaw hung open, eyes twitching in stunned amazement, as he tried to work his words into order.
“Did… did you just raspberry me?”
Joe’s grin never faded. “Yeah.”
His amazement at Joe’s very daring to interrupt him gave way to rage. He inhaled, intent on exacting his revenge-
And was slobber-knocked in the jaw, flying four feet and five inches, headfirst, into the nearby wall. Despite how brief the unintentional journey was, he passed out. Double-Time could not have been more satisfied, if judged from the vindictive smile on her face.
She turned to Joe, questioning, “Now?”
Joe’s closed eyes were all the answer she needed, and she followed in suit as his horn quickly grew brighter, and exploded into a blinding, disorienting flash more brilliant than a score of fireworks.
All around them the sounds of ‘My eyes!’, ‘The light! It burns!’, and ‘What the-’ could be heard. Illustrious’ group wildly dashed about, crashing into each other, the alley’s walls, and the ancient remnants of what could loosely be described as rotten vegetable matter left in the cluster of garbage cans.
Joe turned back to his cart, retrieved the two cast-iron skillets hidden underneath the tarp with his magic, and tossed one to Double-Time, who gripped hers in both hooves like a bat. They briefly glanced at each other as they sported mirrored grins, before proceeding to lay into the defenseless, pandemonium-induced Changelings, wreaking havoc and wildly yelling.
A masterfully orchestrated metal symphony of pongs, binks, bonks and clangs resounded throughout the seemingly abandoned close quarters. As they both stood, chests heaving, silence spoke through the night, though was interrupted by a single ‘Keep it down! I’m trying to sleep here! Yeesh!’
Joe and Double-Time shared a look, as well as a brief chuckle, before a squad of Guards rushed into the alley’s entrance, drawn by Joe’s light show and the screaming. Not exactly in need of a lengthy explanation given the scene before them, the Guards promptly rounded up the unconscious horde and levitated them towards Canterlot Castle and, presumably, the dungeon.
Joe relinquished his cart to a Guardspony, already filled to bursting with enough donuts to last the night for the Guards’ Social. As they cantered away, eager to be rid of their prisoners and begin the feasting of glorious deep-fried, sugar-laden dough, Joe and Double-Time galloped their way back to the bakery, short on time as they needed to retrieve the specialty treat Joe had developed for the Colts And Fillies of Equestria. With much huffing, puffing, and wheezing, they managed to arrive at Canterlot Orphanage with less than five minutes to spare.
By the time the bidding began, they had managed to catch their breaths. Joe had to smile upon the unveiling of certain entries. Gustave le Grand’s famous éclairs made an appearance, though he himself did not. Apparently he had had them delivered, due to his busy schedule. Mulia Mild’s chocolate-mousse moose came up, though as a twist she had made this one with milk, dark, and white chocolate. She personally presented it to the winning bidder.
As a sight all too familiar came into view, Joe could only smile as he silently teared up. A multi-tiered cake, its contents almost as crazy as its creator, had ponies bidding on it before it had even stopped rolling onto the low stage. The Marzipan Mascarpone Meringue Madness, as it was introduced, had its winning bidder nearly hugged in two by an overly energetic, pink Earth Pony.
Celestia bless you, Pinkie Pie. You always come through, Joe thought, wiping away his tears.
After a slough of other creations, numbering no less than four massive pies bought by a single Wonderbolt, a pair of three-layered cookie-cakes filled with oatmeal, peanut butter, and chocolate chips as their gooey, globby centers, and three different tropically-flavored cheesecakes, Joe’s spare cart was rolled onto the stage. Gentle Rain herself ran the auction, and wore a shallow smile deep with gratitude as she presented his culinary creation.
“Our last entry comes from the bakery of none other than Canterlot’s own Joe. And I’d hazard a guess that he was working on it even as he galloped over, since he could barely breath, let alone say ‘hello.’ That’s Joe for you. Always working up to the last minute.”
She paused until the chuckles had died down before continuing. “Fillies and gentlecolts, I am proud to present… a baker’s dozen of the Liquid Gold Donut!”
A collective gasp, and one loud bark of laughter, ran through the crowd, before the bidding began in earnest. Gentle Rain eventually had everypony simply keep their hooves raised as she in turn raised the bid bit by bit. Eventually, the one pony who had laughed before came up to receive his hard-won prize, much to the disappointment of the other bidders.
Joe and Double-Time were preparing to return to the bakery, when an Earth Pony stallion approached them, a Unicorn filly and colt rushing ahead of him, yelling ‘Uncle Joe!’ again and again. Joe reached down and hefted the roan colt and butterscotch filly onto his shoulders as he stood on his hind legs, all three laughing and smiling in glee.
The stallion, cherry red, his blonde mane and tail speckled with gray, came up to Joe, smirking all the while. “And here I was under the impression I’d have to beat you in poker to get those donuts again.”
Joe’s smile grew wider. “Ey there, Lucky Day! Figured you’d be here. Though, if you wanna thank somepony,” he gestured to the mare next to him, “that’d be Double-Time over here.”
Lucky Day trotted over to Double-Time, shock on her face as a smile was on his. He wrapped a hoof around her neck, and gave her a firm hug. “Thank you. Thank you so much for helping Joe make those donuts. He created those the day I adopted these two, so they mean a great deal to us. They remind us of the day we became a family. Thank you, from the bottom of my heart.”
Double-Time stood stock-still, amazed at how much of an impact something as simple as a pastry had made in another pony’s life. Lucky felt a few drops of moisture fall against his coat as Double-Time hugged him in turn.
Lucky Day and his family walked with Joe and Double-Time until they had to go separate ways. The bags under Joe’s eyes had gotten deeper, and he was looking forward to sleeping in for the holiday, since the bakery would be closed. Double-Time marveled at everything that had happened in the past few days, and the smile on her face slowly dissolved into a look of mourning, before she had to stop walking, as she openly cried on the sidewalk.
Troubled, Joe levitated a hoofkerchief out of his apron’s pocket, and wiped her tears as he rubbed her shoulder with a hoof. “Ey, ey. Easy, kid. What’s gotcha so worked up?”
She drew in a shuddering breath, her words stuttering, “I-I-I… d-don’t-t… w-w-wan-n-n-n-na… lea-lea-lea-leave-ve-ve!”
Joe stared at her, his blank expression full of confusion. “Why? Ya plannin’ on goin’ somewhere?”
Double-Time sniffled loudly. “H-h-huh?”
Joe’s smiled warmed her, despite the chill in the air. “You’re my assistant, right?”
“W-well-l-l, y-yeah, b-b-but I-I th-th-thought-t-t-”
“Ya thought I was gonna kick ya out?”
“Y-y-esss!” she muttered, her hiss escaping.
“Tell ya what. Ya need a place to stay, right?”
“R-right.”
“Right. And I want some help. Got some recipes I’ve been wantin’ to try for a long time, but never had the time. ‘Kay?”
“Okay.”
“‘Kay. Here’s my idea: you’re now my new, permanent, full-time assistant. Ya can have the spare room. Got it?”
“But-”
“Nope. Ya don’t get a say in this. You’re my new assistant. Besides, ya should know better than to argue with your-”
Double-Time basically put Joe’s neck into a headlock with how tightly she hugged him. After a moment to process the sudden reaction, Joe sighed contentedly and returned her hug, albeit with less of an impersonation of a python. There were, however, a few questions that nibbled at the back of Double-Time’s mind.
As they pulled apart, she felt the need to ask, “Joe? Why are you being so nice to me?”
Confusion was written across his face like a flashing warning sign, before he smiled. “Ya remind me a bit of myself, when I was a colt. I used to be alone, with no family. Then, a mom and dad took me in, and treated me like their son. If I can turn out to be a decent pony from where I started, I got a feelin’ you’ll turn out even better.”
A heartfelt smile broke through her tears as Double-Time wiped them away. “Thanks, Joe. Last question? how did you outthink Illustrious? I mean, Infiltrator-class drones are bred for intelligence and strategy. They’re the Queen’s spies!”
Joe smiled in embarrassment, and rubbed the back of his neck with a hoof before answering. “Well, two things. First, remember when I told ya ’bout Canterlot havin’ that policy on intelligence? To make a long story short, since I got here, I’ve gotten smarter. Second, well… let’s just say that to know your enemy is to know yourself.”
Joe had winked at her, and though it was probably a trick of the moonlight, Double-Time could’ve sworn…
I mean, their eyes have the same green shade but… No, it couldn’t be.
Could it?
