Or: Why it's Important to be Honest with Your Kids
Author's Note
This might be being posted in 2019, but this idea is old. It's been sitting, half-finished, on my gdocs since 2013. Because of that, it relies on some rather dated fanon and projections—like that Twilight would still be a unicorn at the end of season 3 and beyond, that she was only about eight when Spike hatched, and that Golden Oaks would always be her home. It was a time before Dash's parents had been established. A time when Scootaloo was thought to be a disabled orphan. A time when Equestria Girls was a hot-button rumor, and Equestria Daily had readers in the tens of thousands.
The story still holds up fine, but with the status quo changed so dramatically, I felt it was important to provide a frame of reference.
Lastly, this fic was dug out of The Bucket, a repository for (most) of the half-written fics that I've decided not to finish. It was finished on request of some of the people who checked it out.
Or: Why it's Important to be Honest with Your Kids
"Do you think I'm sexy?"
Rarity nearly choked on her croissant. Twilight grimaced as she watched her cough and splutter while fanning her mouth with a hoof. A dozen ponies also eating their breakfast outside the cafe looked at her with mild concern, but said nothing as Rarity dropped the pastry and wheezed. "Wh-what?"
Twilight frowned and looked down at the table, stirring her spoon in her oatmeal. "Do you think I'm sexy?" she asked again, this time a tad slower.
Rarity pressed her napkin over her mouth and closed her eyes as she struggled to regain control of her coughing fit. Through teary eyes, she looked back at the blurry mass of purple and shook her head. "I . . .What, darling?"
A groan escaped Twilight's lips as she leaned back. Her face was starting to turn noticeably pink. "Do you find me sexually appealing?" she asked with her eyes closed.
"Th-that's what I thought you said . . ."
Twilight looked at her expectantly, but Rarity just pursed her lips and looked away. Her ears fell. "I'm ugly, aren't I?" She poked her belly and sighed when her hoof met a yielding softness and sank into her. Years of too much time at the library and not enough time outside had clearly not benefited the unicorn as much physically as they had mentally. Still, she was within the average weight range for a mare her size. At least, she thought she was. "Am I fat?" she pleaded.
"Of course you aren't!" Rarity answered sharply. She looked around the dining area, her cheeks alight with a fierce blush. Of all the places Twilight had to bring up a topic like this, she groaned inwardly, it just had to be a public restaurant. "Twilight, dear, you're not fat at all!"
A scowl pulled at Twilight's lips. "Then why don't you find me sexy?" she demanded. "Is it my mane? My tail? Do I stink?"
"Twilight," Rarity protested, still waving her hoof to her face. Her heart beat furiously in her chest. She'd never—in a million years—thought she'd find herself in a situation like this. Especially not with Twilight! "You're married!" she hissed. "Think of the scandal if we were to—"
"Huh?" Twilight said, blinking. She gave Rarity a searching look and raised her eyebrow. "What does me being married have to do with—Oh!" Twilight's eyes shot open and she shook her head emphatically. "Oh, you thought—No! No! No!"
Rarity bit her lip. Her eyes darted from side to side, checking for any potential eavesdroppers. Whatever Twilight was going on about was absolutely sure to make the cover of the Ponyville Express if the wrong pony heard. "Then what in Equestria are we talking about?"
"Just what I said!" Twilight's hooves curled onto the table as she leaned in towards Rarity, a mere slip of a hoof away from face-planting into her friend's tea. "Do you think I'm sexy or not?!"
"I-I really don't feel comfortable—"
"Rarity!" Twilight growled, fixing a frustrated glare into Rarity's eyes. "Rainbow won't have sex with me!"
It was like Twilight had been waiting to deliver the final blow. One last surprise exclamation that would cause Rarity's thought processes to squeal to a grinding halt. She knew Twilight was sitting back down. She watched as her friend stared at her oatmeal with pink cheeks and sullen eyes. She saw Twilight's ears swivel back and forth, waiting for some sort of response. All of those things she saw, but none of them registered at all. Then, like a rubber band that had been stretched out for miles and suddenly let go, it all came rushing back to her at once.
Why didn't I just visit Fluttershy today?
"She . . . she won't?" Rarity finally said. She felt a sharp pain in her face and realized it had been pulled back in sheer horror. She cleared her throat nonchalantly as she readjusted herself on her seat and attempted to get back into a relaxed state. Her hoof tapped a tuneless melody on the table as her eyes danced from her tea to her plate. "Why not?"
Twilight groaned and threw her head back. "I don't know!" she cried, exasperated. "When we were dating, I used to think that maybe she was just waiting for marriage, you know? But when nothing happened on our honeymoon—"
"Wait, wait, wait!" Rarity leaned forward and grasped the sides of the table with her hooves. She blinked several times and looked at Twilight like she'd suddenly announced she was going to rob a bank. "You mean you two have never—"
"Not once!" Twilight reaffirmed. Her eyes welled up with tears as she spoke, staring into her oatmeal. "Not a single time in two years of marriage!" She sniffled. "I wish she'd just tell me if she finds me unattractive . . ."
Rarity pursed her lips and took one of Twilight's hooves in her own. "Twilight, listen to me. You are a beautiful mare with a lot of sexual appeal." There was a hitch in her breath as she again scanned the dining area. The stallion at the next table over was staring at them, licking his lips slowly. His grin vanished quickly, though, when a burst of blue magic pulled his cowpony hat down past his chin.
"Then why won't Rainbow sleep with me?" Twilight huffed. "I've tried so hard! Remember the lingerie I bought from you?"
Rarity's face turned an even darker shade of red as she remembered that particular purchase. Is she trying to destroy my reputation? "Yes," she said stiffly, waving aside the memory of Twilight asking about bridle bit flavors. "Yes, I do remember you purchasing some intimate apparel from my boutique. It didn't help at all?"
Twilight groaned and placed her head in her hooves. "I was laying on the bed with my—"
"Ahem!" Rarity coughed. Her ears slicked back against her skull as she gently squeezed Twilight's hoof and tried with all her might to leave the mental image her cruel imagination was conjuring up very much incomplete. "Yes, I get the picture, dear."
"Do you know what she said?" Twilight hissed. "'Hey, Twilight, what's with the new PJs?'"
Rarity's jaw dropped. Her Autumn Lovers line was the most risque collection outside of Las Pegasus! Ponies all over the country had been ordering from her for months after she’d unveiled it! "She didn't!"
"And then she went to sleep! With me right next to her!" Twilight growled into her tea. "I just don't get it! What's wrong with me?"
Rarity let Twilight's question hang in the air for a bit as she let everything soak in. It can't be . . . she thought. Rainbow's hardly the type for empathy, but even she isn't that dense. Unless . . . Suddenly, an idea popped into her mind. One that made her chuckle almost as much as it made her cringe.
"Perhaps she's just waiting for you to take the lead?" she suggested, still tapping her hoof on the table. "They say that ponies that are most dominant outside of the bedroom are usually the least in it. She may be shy."
Twilight opened her mouth—probably to wave off the idea—when a spark lit off in her eyes. "I think you're right!" she exclaimed. "She usually likes it the most when I'm the one kissing her! You might be on to something, Rarity!"
"Yes, I might." A nervous laugh leaped from her throat before she could stuff it back down. "Now could we please get back to brunch?"
"Sure thing, Rarity!" Twilight beamed, taking a happy swig of her tea. "But I'm not really all that hungry anymore. How about we just skip to the spa?"
The dam broke, and a surge of relief flooded Rarity's veins. "The spa sounds lovely," she said, closing her eyes and standing up. "I'm sure I've got a ton of knots for Aloe to work out today."
Twilight joined her as they made their way out of the dining area. "Really?" she asked, opening the gate with her magic and letting Rarity pass by. "Is life in the Boutique getting to you again?"
A little blue filly sitting under an umbrella picnic table tapped the shoulder of the mare next to her. "Mommy, what's a 'lingerie'?"
Rarity's nostrils flared. "You could say that."
“Bill . . . Bill . . . Bill . . .” Rainbow droned, flipping through each letter with the same disinterested look one might give a wall of drying paint. “. . . Bill . . .” She sighed and leaned back into her chair, tossing the dense pack of envelopes onto the table next to a teetering stack of book-order catalogs. “We’ve only been married for two years!” she groused incredulously. “How the heck do we have this many bills!”
Rainbow would have to work some serious overtime to make up for the hit they were taking for Twilight’s latest experiment. She’d thought she’d talked to her wife about the power draw her science doodad . . . thing in the basement was creating. Either that thing was getting turned off, or Rainbow wasn’t going to be able to sleep for the next few days.
She could already feel her wings creaking.
There was the monster insurance bill that had skyrocketed after Spike’s recent bout with the fire-flu. And then she had to find money for trash removal and replacement for the resulting destroyed books, shelves, and bed. That wasn’t even factoring in the next payment for the money they still owed for their wedding and the honeymoon in Mexicolt afterward. And after all of that she had to make sure she had enough bits left over to pick up her flight suit at the dry cleaner's before Wednesday.
Releasing a long, tired moan of defeat, Rainbow dropped her head into her hooves. It was times like this that she really wished Twilight wasn’t so determined to get by without the assistance of the Royal Treasury. Maybe she could talk her into at least getting some grant or something for the giant telescope that Twilight just had to have to study Neptune better. “That mare’s gonna fly me into an early grave. I miss back when I was the irresponsible one. . .”
Rainbow cast a weary look at the stack of mail again and decided that she’d rather just deal with it all later. Numbers were Twilight’s thing anyway. However, before she stood up she noticed something peculiar. A stamp.
A grin broke out on Rainbow’s face. Did it finally come in? She reached out, grabbed the little yellow envelope, and ripped it open with curiosity. She nearly tore the paper inside doing so—Twilight would have been furious if she’d done that with the letter opener next to her—but she’d never use a tool that sissy. Maybe a knife, she mused, pulling the letter out and unfolding it. Stars glimmered in her eyes. A really big knife. Like . . . like a Bowie knife! Or a machete!
As visions of her defeating legions of scowling, sharp-toothed envelopes with her trusty katana filled her mind, she let her eyes drift over the header of the page. Dear Mrs. Rainbow Sparkle . . .
“Ugh,” Rainbow groaned at the sight of her new name. “How did she manage to talk me into that? It sounds so . . .” She shivered, then sighed as she remembered bright violet eyes flooding with hope and cheer. “Only for her . . .”
Her eyes drifted across the page lazily. She was in no hurry to get back to finding out how much farther they’d managed to dig their little family into the hole just yet. The letter was long and full of terminology that made Rainbow’s head spin, but when her eyes finally landed on the phrase “adoption accepted,” she felt like jumping for joy. So she did, right out of her seat, with a mighty “Yes!”
“Spike!” the pegasus called up to the ceiling as she landed and let her wings relax. “Congratulations, buddy! You’ve got a sister now!” And just like that, Rainbow’s brow furrowed. “Or a cousin. . . .Niece?”
When only silence answered her, Rainbow brought a hoof to her face. “Right, right. He’s in Canterlot.” She still thought it was strange that Celestia had asked him to go to the castle on such short notice, but not enough to really be worried about it. Spike was nearly as old as Twilight, after all, dragon life-span development aside; Rainbow was sure he could handle whatever the princess asked of him.
Maybe he could stay there long enough to bring their insurance premiums back down.
The sound of the front door slamming shut jolted Rainbow out of her thoughts just in time to hear a cheerful voice call out, “I’m back from school!”
A dozen different emotions warred for control of Rainbow’s heart the moment Scootaloo’s voice hit her ears. Elation, warmth, fear, pride, but the one that won out was definitely excitement. “In the kitchen!” she answered, gripping the adoption papers to her chest. “And hurry up! I’ve got some good news!”
Galloping hooves thundered down the hallway at a speed Rainbow was almost impressed with. Seconds later, an orange head topped with a mop of magenta hair poked through the doorway. The rest of Scootaloo’s body quickly followed suit, little wings flapping under her dirty saddlebags. “Did it come in?” she asked, practically dancing on her hooves.
“See for yourself.” Rainbow twisted the form around and slipped it into the filly’s hooves with a grin. “Careful with that, now. You know Twilight’s gonna wanna frame it.”
Scootaloo immediately latched onto the paper. Her cerise eyes grew wider and brighter the further they scrolled down the sheet, until Rainbow was sure they were about to pop right out of her head. Then they stopped and looked up at her, glistening in the sunlight from the kitchen window. “D-does this mean I get to call you ‘Mom’ now?”
On some level, Rainbow knew that question was bound to come up sooner or later. If not now, then surely once Scootaloo had grown used to the idea of living in the library. The thought had occurred to her a few times in passing, but she’d just brushed it off. If, or rather when it came, she’d already decided what she was going to say. She thought she was ready for it.
What she wasn’t ready for, however, was the sudden torrent of emotions that seized control of her. It was like a gut punch from a manticore, driving all the air from her lungs and bringing burning tears to her eyes all at once. Her mouth felt dry as she opened it, reaching a tingling hoof out to the filly. “O-of course,” Rainbow answered, her voice cracking. “But only if you want to.”
Scootaloo ignored the hoof and leaped straight into the air. Rainbow only had enough time to gasp before she was tackled off the chair by a mass of fur, feathers, and homework. The pair of pegasi crashed to the floor with a loud thump as Scootaloo buried her head in Rainbow’s fur and wrapped her forelegs around her. “I do,” Scootaloo said. “I do, I do, I do!”
Any other time, Rainbow probably would have been inclined to chuckle. But here on the floor, with Scootaloo clinging to her, she realized that she didn’t really feel the need. Instead, she wrapped her hooves around the filly—her daughter—and squeezed her tightly. “Been a long road, Squirt,” she said softly. “I hope it’s worth it for you.”
“It will be. I just know it.”
So sure of herself. Just like me at that age, Rainbow thought. And, if Scootaloo was like Rainbow in any other ways, she and Twilight were bound to encounter some hurdles over the years. But it’d all be worth it, because the smile on Scootaloo’s face shone like a beacon right now, and the memory of it would be more than enough to get them through whatever was to come.
“Now why don’t you go put your bags away,” Rainbow said, nudging Scootaloo’s side. “And when Twilight gets home, I’ll see if I can’t talk her into Haymaker’s for dinner.”
“Haymaker’s?” Scootaloo’s grin somehow managed to stretch even further. “We never went to Haymaker’s back at the—”
“I know.” Rainbow tussled Scootaloo’s hair and carefully pulled herself up from under her. “But that was then. You’re mine now. Got it?”
Scootaloo nodded, giggling and straightening her hair. “I’ll be right back!” With a wriggle, she hopped to her hooves and started for the hallway.
“Hey now,” Rainbow chided before she made it halfway to the door. “Where do you think you’re going?”
Scootaloo’s hoof stopped an inch from the floor. She looked back with curious eyes. “To the living room to put my bags away?”
“Uh-uh.” Rainbow smirked and gestured with her head toward the stairs on the far side of the kitchen. “You officially live here now. No more couch. You put those bags in your room, Squirt.”
“My . . . My room?” Scootaloo parroted blankly. Her brow furrowed as she took a long look at the door to the living room, then shifted back to the stairs. For a moment, Rainbow was afraid that she might have said something wrong, but then Scootaloo’s gasped and raced for the stairs with a delighted shriek.
Rainbow smiled and shook her head as she followed Scootaloo up the stairs. After the wedding, they had been forced to remodel the library. As nice as it was, it simply wasn’t equipped for an entire family. Honestly, Rainbow was surprised at how well Twilight had done without a proper kitchen for so long. Now, though, the bottom floor had been expanded into structures beyond just the enormous oak tree, leaving room for the second floor to be renovated into a very comfortable apartment of sorts.
At the top of the stairs, a circular corridor greeted them. The open door at the far end showed a room with several overstacked bookshelves and a messy bed. Rainbow bit her lip and made a mental note to fix that up before her wife got home. Beside that door, though, was another door decorated with ghostly green flames. Spike had claimed that one once they had started moving back in, and he’d wasted no time in filling it with assorted knick-knacks. The other two doors, however, weren’t decorated just yet.
But it wouldn’t be that way for long, Rainbow thought with a smile.
Scootaloo bobbed back and forth between the unmarked doors, wings flapping wildly. Her indecision didn’t last long, though, because she wasted no time in latching onto the door opposite Spike’s and rushing in. It swung open without so much as a creak, and Rainbow felt her own excitement morph into alarm
“Wait!” she yelped, bolting up the last few stairs. “Not that one!” The wood thunked beneath her hooves as she zipped down the hall and into the room.
Inside, Scootaloo was looking at the baby blue walls and pink trim with an uncomfortable frown. She took a few steps around a half-built chest marked “toys” and tapped the wooden crib in the far corner. When Rainbow stepped inside, the filly turned to look at her with folded ears. “Um . . . This is . . . great?”
Without warning, a snort fought its way up Rainbow’s throat and exploded out of her nose. “Relax, Squirt. Yours is the other one.”
Relief flooded Scootaloo’s face. “Oh, thank Luna.” Her ears raised back up, and she laughed sheepishly. “Sorry, I guess I got a little carried away there.”
“Don’t sweat it.” Rainbow shrugged and pushed the toy box out of the way. “This here’s just a surprise for Twilight. That’s all.”
Scootaloo cocked her head. “A surprise?” She looked around the room and took in the assorted stuffed animals lining the walls. Over the crib, a mobile of spaceships and flying pegasi swayed gently in the breeze coming from the hallway. “Are you gonna have a foal or something?”
Quick as a whip. Just like me. Rainbow settled herself down on the floor by the window. She ran a hoof along the rail of the crib and smiled softly. It hadn’t been easy to find one without stirring up the town, but she’d managed somehow. “Yeah. I’ve been thinking about it a lot lately. With you coming along, I figure we should just go all-in and give you a little brother or sister too.”
The silence hung between them for a few moments as Rainbow leaned back against the wall and stretched her wings. She hadn’t meant for anypony to find out before she’d talked to Twilight about everything, but she supposed that if anypony could keep a secret, it was Scootaloo. After all, who could Rainbow trust if not her biggest fan?
Well, maybe second biggest. After all, Twilight did still have that enormous foam finger she got from Pinkie Pie laying around somewhere.
“Just don’t tell Twilight I’m getting everything ready, okay?”
Scootaloo nodded and offered a solemn salute with her hoof. Then, her brow furrowed and she looked at Rainbow with curiosity. “Um . . . Where do foals come from?”
Rainbow’s ears fell in an instant. Oh boy.
Well, her first test as a mom had come a lot faster than she’d expected.
“Uh, well,” Rainbow grumbled, scratching the back of her neck. “It’s kinda complicated. But you know what? I was about your age when my dad told me about this stuff, so I guess we can talk about it.”
Too late, Rainbow realized what she’d just done. The spark of curiosity in Scootaloo’s eyes instantly ignited into a raging inferno as she leaned forward and stretched her wings, ears pointed and clinging to every word. “This must be good, huh?”
“Alright, alright,” Rainbow said with a wave. “Don’t get too excited. You won’t be doing this for a long time, y’know.” She adjusted herself against the wall to allow room for her wings to relax, and rested her forehoof on an empty box marked Tampicolt furniture. Once Scootaloo nodded her assent, Rainbow clicked her tongue and continued.
“First things first.” Raising a hoof, she swept it across the room at the various decorations. She pointed out the pink, fluffy stuffed bunnies in the corners and the dancing elephants painted on the wall trim. “You gotta get the room ready, or it won’t work. The King won’t send you a foal if you’re not prepared for one.”
Scootaloo’s ears perked up. “The King?”
“The King of the Intergalactic Baby Mine, of course,” Rainbow answered, chuckling as she watched Scootaloo’s jaw drop. “It’s on a really far off planet called Zeeru, way in the center of the galaxy. You see, when two ponies fall in love, they get a room ready and pray to him for a foal. If he thinks they’re ready, he takes a baby he’s mined from the planet and sends it to Equestria in a little ship. That’s how you know when a baby’s coming—you see a shooting star.”
The way Scootaloo’s eyes lit up at the sudden realization was breathtaking. Rainbow could clearly remember the feeling herself when her own father had revealed everything to her. The annual meteor shower would never be the same for Scootaloo now, just like it wasn’t for Rainbow—or any other pony. Each and every glowing speck raining down to Equestria was housing a sleeping foal just waiting to meet its parents; it made the sight even more magnificent.
And soon, one might be coming to the library. The mere thought was enough to send a chill down Rainbow’s spine.
“And all the foals in the whole world come from Zeeru?” Scootaloo asked, leaning so far forward she had to flap her wings for balance.
Rainbow nodded as a burst of warm pride ripped through her chest. It felt good to actually be the one who knew all the answers for once. Being able to explain everything was so . . . gratifying. No wonder Twilight liked it so much. “Every single one.”
There was a sudden crash as the bedroom door exploded inward and slammed against the wall. In its place was a unicorn with a creased brow that looked to be trying—and failing—not to huff and puff. A look of fiery indignation was plastered all over her face, from the grinding of her teeth to the narrowed eyes that were locked onto Rainbow. She took a solid step forward, and the sound reverberated through the room like a death knell.
“Rainbow Sparkle,” Twilight growled. “I’d like a word with you.”
Rainbow’s blood flash froze. She was vaguely aware of a small orange blob bolting from the room as she swallowed thickly. Suddenly, sitting against the wall seemed like a terrible mistake as she watched Twilight advance on her. There was another bang as a violet flash slammed the door shut again.
Whatever Twilight was mad about, it was obviously something big. Like, spilled ink all over the card catalog big. But try as she might, Rainbow simply couldn’t think of anything she’d done which might be that wrong. Sure, the asparagus had been a little blackened last night, but that certainly wasn’t any reason to—
“What were you thinking?” Twilight hissed, her snout now barely a foot away from Rainbow’s. The distance gave her a proper view of that one vein that always throbbed over Twilight’s left eye when she was properly ticked. It looked extra bulgy today.
“Uh, hi sweetie?” Rainbow tried, throwing in a smile for good measure. “How was brunch?”
Twilight’s face was made of solid stone. “What kind of insanity did you just feed our daughter? Our very impressionable daughter?”
Insanity? Rainbow blinked. What in the world was Twilight talking about? “Uh . . .”
“A baby mine?” Twilight cried, stamping her hoof onto the floor and spinning around. Still breathing heavily, she began to pace around the room. “Planet Zeeru? Foals in meteor showers?”
Oh. That.
“Oh,” Rainbow said, breathing a sigh of relief. “Jees, you scared me. I thought you were mad about something else. If you wanted to be the one to give Scoots the talk, then all you had to do was say so.”
This, apparently, was the absolute wrong thing to say. Twilight rounded on her again. A deep red was beginning to take over her purple cheeks. “The talk?” Twilight sounded incredulous. “The talk? Rainbow, do you have any idea what kind of a mess you just created?”
This time, Rainbow decided that a simple shake of her head would do. Whatever Twilight was upset about, there was no point in adding fuel to the fire. Clearly, she’d already done so somehow.
“She’s going to take everything you say at face value, Rainbow!” Twilight cried. She dragged a hoof down her face and groaned. “You’re her hero! Even if I sit her down and explain that you were just messing with her, there’ll probably always still be a small part of her that actually believes all of that nonsense!”
Wait . . . what? Rainbow furrowed her brow. “What nonsense?”
Twilight halted halfway through another about-face and locked eyes with Rainbow. “You can’t be serious.”
“Well, I am,” Rainbow said hotly, crossing her forelegs. “Seriously, Twi, I don’t get what the big deal is. I gave her the same talk my dad gave me.”
There was a long silence in which Twilight blinked several times. She opened her mouth once, then snapped it shut immediately, shaking her head. When she finally opened it up again, Rainbow was relieved to hear that all the anger had evaporated. “Your dad?”
“Yeah.” Rainbow carefully made her way up to her hooves and took a step toward her wife. “I got the talk at Scootaloo’s age, so I figured it’d be okay. Sorry, I just thought that—”
“What about your school?” Twilight interrupted, pouncing forward. There was a flash of purple as two hooves settled firmly on Rainbow’s cheeks and held her gaze to Twilight’s eyes. “What did your school teach you?”
Well, that was a weird question. What did school have to do with anything?
Whatever. If Twilight was having another episode, it’d probably be best to humor her. At least until she could send a letter off to Princess Celestia.
“Flight, mostly? And reading and math, I guess.” Rainbow shrugged. “The usual stuff. Up until I dropped out, at least.”
“Dropped out . . .” Twilight squeaked. She looked pretty woozy afterward.
“Well yeah. I wanted to be a racer, and all that classwork was getting in the way of my track time. I told you all about it, remember?”
Twilight gave her a bug-eyed nod. “All this time . . .” she mumbled. Her grip relaxed, and Rainbow took the opportunity to wriggle free and scoot back a few feet. “You were just completely clueless.” Suddenly, the look of shock on Twilight’s face melted away, and she began to chuckle.
Rainbow made sure to stand very still, daring only to shift her eyes over to the closed door. She doubted this would be as bad as the whole “want it, need it” fiasco, but if Twilight’s hairs started to curl, she wanted to be ready to bolt. It was bad enough that one time when she’d come after her in some kinda ninja suit with a riding crop just for going to bed early—she didn’t want to see what a real freakout might cause.
It seemed Twilight’s laugh was the genuine, non-cackly-insane kind, though, because it died out after a few moments, leaving only a soft smile. “Sometimes, I just don’t know what to do with you, Rainbow. You really believe all that stuff your dad told you?”
“What?” Rainbow squinted at Twilight, but the hardness had left her wife’s eyes completely. “Of course. Why wouldn’t I? My dad doesn’t lie.”
“This is the same stallion who told you that lying makes your tongue fall out, right?”
Rainbow rolled her eyes. “Well of course it sounds silly when you say it like that!” she groaned. Twilight had given her quite the earful when she’d first let that little tidbit slip. Unfortunately, Rainbow hadn’t been able to deny it at the time, either, given what Twilight had called her “silly superstition.”
Twilight raised a hoof, releasing a kind of choking snort Rainbow was almost positive was originally laughter. “Okay, okay,” she said. “Just checking. It’s just that it’s a little hard to believe is all. You weren’t exactly given the right information, Rainbow. Babies don’t come from space.”
Wait, what?
There had always been a niggling feeling in the back of Rainbow’s mind that the talk her father had given her hadn’t been entirely truthful, but to hear the words actually coming out of Twilight’s mouth was something else entirely. Now what was she supposed to do? Pick between her wife and her dad?
How was she supposed to do that?
“I . . .” Rainbow started without thinking. She caught herself and frowned at Twilight. “Are you sure?”
Twilight actually had the nerve to giggle. “Pretty sure.”
That was that, then. After all, Twilight was pretty much the smartest pony in Equestria. Rainbow couldn’t very well tell her she was wrong. Not with only her father’s twelve-year-old words to back her up. That thought soon took a backseat when something suddenly occurred to her. If foals didn’t come from Zeeru, then that meant . . .
“But then where do they come from?” Rainbow asked as she found herself plopping back down onto the floor. All the pride she’d felt before—felt from the joy of finally having all the answers—vanished, and in its place was only the sad knowledge that, once again, she had no idea what she was talking about. Only this time she felt even sillier, and it made her cheeks burn.
Twilight’s gaze softened. Slowly, she looked around the room, then set a hoof on the crib. As she ran it down the freshly sanded grains, she let out a long drawn out breath. “Tell you what,” she said quietly, bringing her eyes back around to Rainbow. “You go make the bed while I go talk to Scootaloo.”
Then, Twilight’s eyes half-lidded, and she stepped closer, filling Rainbow’s senses with lavender fur and the scent of vanilla. “And then I’ll come up and tell you all about it.”
Suddenly, Twilight closed the gap between then entirely, pressing her soft lips against Rainbow’s without warning. Rainbow’s heart leaped into her throat, and her wings flared out instinctively as Twilight pushed forward even further. If Twilight’s hoof hadn’t snaked out behind her, she would have fallen for sure, but it held her firmly against Twilight’s chest, and the butterflies in Rainbow’s belly awoke from their two-year dormancy with a vengeance.
And then, all too soon, it was over. Twilight broke the kiss off and winked at Rainbow before turning around and disappearing into the hallway.
Sitting on the floor of the baby room, struggling to fold her wings back down, Rainbow found herself wondering just what had brought that on.
And why had she liked it so much?
And what did their bed have to do with anything?
