Once she had run the needle through the last few stitches, Rarity looked down on the table and admired her hoofiwork. Before her lay a now-completed nightgown, a small black velvety garment that would have been much too small for any adult pony yet was perfectly-sized for a foal. Although it was but a simple little thing, Rarity couldn’t help but have a small sense of satisfaction—nothing too self-congratulatory, mind you, but just a little joy in what she had created, the thrill of the craft. And of course, as it was Rarity who had made the garment, there were little flourishes here and there, like the soft starry pattern that skirted the bottom edge that was almost invisible in this light. It had been tricky to sew that part of the fabric together in the dark, guided by the phosphorescent glow of the stars, but Rarity with her expertise had been up to the challenge.
Before she could do anything else with the nightgown, Rarity was interrupted from her thoughts by a loud knocking on the door downstairs. With a brief sigh and a smile, Rarity turned away from the table and trotted out the doorway of her inspiration room.
When Rarity reached the front door, she nearly just opened the door right away. But then she paused, lowering her hoof before leaning forward to peer through the peep-hole’s fisheye lens.
She was greeted with a brilliant blue eye, staring straight back at her. Rarity let loose a giggle. The pony on the other side obviously had no way of seeing inside... but clearly she knew the unicorn would be looking.
Taking a step back, Rarity took hold of the handle and pull the door open. A breath of warm summer air spilled inside.
Rarity blinked. “Why, Pinkie! Good morning! To what do I owe the pleasure?”
Pinkie Pie giggled and snorted, all at the same time—a characteristic gigglesnort. There seemed to be an extra exuberance lighting up the party pony’s features that morning as she sat there on the doorstep of Carousel Boutique. “Good question! I, um... I had something I wanted to ask you about,” she said, adding a meek smile. “And I brought scones!” On cue, a rotund metal tin protruded from the veritable mess of curls atop the mare’s head. It bore a floral design, befitting the season.
“Scones, darling?” Rarity tilted her head.
“Blueberry!” A line of worry crossed Pinkie’s face. “You like those ones, right?”
“Oh yes, yes, an old favourite of mine,” Rarity assured her. She suddenly noticed how warm it was getting, the sun’s rays contaminating the comfortable cool of the boutique. “You mentioned you wished to speak about something—would you like to come inside for tea?”
“S-Sure!” Pinkie replied cheerily.
Almost a little too cheerily. Perhaps she was nervous. Rarity didn’t mention it, though; rather, she beckoned Pinkie inside and turned herself to trot towards the kitchen. “Make yourself at home in the sitting room, darling—I’ll just be a moment.”
She heard the sound of hoofsteps and the floorboards creaking behind her as she reached the kitchen, pulling a kettle from the shelf with her magic. It only took her a moment to get the water started on the stovetop, and then she stepped away and back to the sitting room.
When she got there, Pinkie Pie had taken a seat on the sofa, an off-white ornate thing from Trottingham that had been Rarity’s grandmother’s. It sat beneath the large bay windows on the far side of the room, the mid-morning sunlight casting the room and especially the mare in front of it in a warm glow.
Pinkie’s eyes lit up as Rarity entered the room, and she smiled as the unicorn trotted up to the centre of the room. Rarity used her magic to pull a scone from the metal container sitting atop the coffee table; once she had taken one dainty bite, she looked to the pink pony before her and gave a slight smile and a sharp nod.
“So,” Rarity started, once she’d swallowed another bite. “What is it you wanted to talk about?”
Pinkie’s smile turned demure, hooves shifting uneasily together as she sat. “Oh, um... actually, now that you mention it, I somehow totally just forgot!” She let out a nervous laugh. “I guess everypony’s right when they call me an airhead, huh? How’s the scone, though?”
Rarity raised an eyebrow. “It’s delightful, dear—as your baking always is. But really, it seemed like you had something you wanted to say, and I’d be quite surprised if you got up early and baked these scones to bring over here and then somehow forgot what you were doing it for.” She winked.
“Maybe I just wanna do something nice for one of my bestest friends!” A toothy grin spread across the pink mare’s face, and she reached forward to grab a scone of her own. “And who said I got up early, anyways?” She took a bite, and the look in her eyes dared Rarity to press forward.
But Rarity decided to take a different turn. “Well, regardless, you know I do appreciate random bouts of generosity. Thank you, Pinkie.” She took another bite of her scone and stepped back, taking a tentative seat in an armchair whose deep purple upholstery was not unlike the colour of her mane.
“Happy to bring a little bit of sunshine to your morning!” Pinkie replied in turn. And then blinked awkwardly as Rarity just sat there looking at the coffee table, taking intermittent bites of her scone. “Soooo...”
Rarity looked back up, giving the other mare a look. “Yes? Have you remembered what you wanted to talk about?”
“Uhhh... nope!” Pinkie laughed. “I just wanted to ask, whatcha been working on this morning? Any neato projects?”
Rarity smiled. “Yes, actually—I’ve been putting the finishing touches on a dress for a filly, the daughter of a dear friend of mine. I haven’t done many foals’ garments in the last few years, so I’m a bit rusty, but it’s been coming back to me as I’ve gone along.”
Pinkie nodded slowly as if considering something. “Anypony I know?”
“Mmm... perhaps,” Rarity replied, a twinkle in her eye. “But I can’t seem to recall exactly who in this moment.”
“That doesn’t even make any sense!” Pinkie pouted.
“Neither,” Rarity shot back, “does forgetting what you wanted to talk to me about.” Her grin widened; she knew she’d won.
Pinkie Pie let out a comical groan, pulling down her cheeks with her hooves. “Gah, you’re too good at this! Okay, fine, you got me! I didn’t forget! It’s just—” She paused and leaned forward, putting a hoof to her mouth and looking sideways as she spoke in an exaggerated stage whisper. “I’m kinda scared.”
Rarity blinked. “Of what? Me? Darling, I assure you, I do not bite.” She tapped her chin, a thoughtful expression on her face. “Unless asked to, of course.”
At that, Pinkie’s cheeks went from pink to crimson. “Oh my goodness, you know, don’t you?” She bit her lip.
“Know what, darling?” Rarity nearly winked, but she settled for an innocent smile. “I haven’t the slightest idea of what you’d like to tell me, but I am very curious to know what it is.”
Pinkie sighed, and stood up from where she sat. The pink pony sashayed around the coffee table over to the chair Rarity was sitting in, and she stopped beside the unicorn. “Rarity?” she said, in an uncharacteristically soft voice.
“Yes?” Rarity kept her expression unreadable—or at least she hoped she was.
“I...” Pinkie’s blue eyes wavered for a second, but she regained her composure. “Rarity, I like you. Like, a whole lot.”
“Oh, well, I like you a lot too, Pinkie!” Rarity smiled, her eyes wide and expectant. “You’re one of my best friends, after all.”
At that, Pinkie giggled. “What I mean is, like... I maaaaybe have the teeniest crush on you...?” She took a step back, apparently waiting for how Rarity would respond.
The white unicorn, for her part, gasped—a long, loud gasp befitting of the mare before her. Then, with no further warning, she grabbed the pink pony’s face and pulled it towards her. “Pinkie!”
“Whaaat?!” Pinkie’s eyes were right in front of Rarity’s face, and their muzzles were touching.
“I love you!” Rarity kissed Pinkie Pie right on the lips.
“Eeeee!” Pinkie squeed, and as Rarity let go, she pulled in for the nuzzle. And oh, what a nuzzle it was; Rarity could feel her cheeks flushing alongside Pinkie’s, and her heart just soared as Pinkie peppered her face with kisses. So entranced were the both of them by each other’s faces that for a few moments, they didn’t even notice the squealing of the teapot in the other room.
“MUUUUUMMMMMMM!!!”
The two mares broke apart, and Rarity swore under her breath. Pinkie Pie gave her a playful dirty look before stepping away and out of the room; Rarity stood up and followed close behind.
At the top of the stairs in the main room was a unicorn filly, no more than half their height. Her coat was snow white just like Rarity’s, and her mane was an unruly pink mess just like Pinkie Pie’s. But her most important trait at that moment was that she was standing there in a ratty nightgown, bleary-eyed as if just awoken from sleep.
“I’m really sorry, dear—” Rarity started, but it was no use.
“I thought you said you weren’t gonna wake me up!” the filly cried, pointing an accusatory hoof at Rarity.
“Hey, hey, it’s okay,” Pinkie said in a reassuring tone, stepping up the stairs. The filly looked about to protest, but she allowed the earth pony to pull her into a big hug. “We’re really sorry. We’ll be more careful next time, Pinkie promise.”
“That’s what you said last time!” the filly pouted.
Rarity opened her mouth to respond, but Pinkie looked up and waved a hoof towards the kitchen—where the kettle was still screaming its head off. Rarity nodded, stepping out to take the kettle off the burner. She hastily grabbed a teapot and cups—three—from the shelves with her magic, setting them out on a tray. Then, she lifted and opened a small box from the counter, revealing dozens of tea bags, and she selected one at random—a blend Twilight had brought back from Canterlot, Rarity noticed approvingly as she opened the package. Adding the boiling water from the kettle, she slid the bag into the teapot and, as the whistle died, the unicorn took the whole tray in her magical grasp and stepped back into the main room with it.
Pinkie Pie still stood at the top of the stairs with the filly, running a hoof through her mane. The filly looked less upset and more grumpy, and more than a little bit tired; Pinkie simply wore a soft smile.
“Would you like to join us for tea, Cotton?” Rarity said, looking up at the pair.
“I guess,” the filly—Cotton Candy—said, looking up. “But only if I can have two spoonfuls of sugar.”
“Well, that seems like a bit much,” Rarity said, which made Pinkie tilt her head as if to say really? “But I’ll allow it,” she hastily added.
Begrudgingly, Cotton took a step down the stairs, and then another; Pinkie Pie followed close behind, her lips pursed in amusement. Rarity led the way back to the sitting room, tray levitating out beside her. She set it down carefully on the coffee table, right next to the still-open tin of scones.
“Mum?”
“Yes, dear?” Rarity turned back to where her wife and daughter stood in the entryway.
“Why do you and Mom do this dumb thing every weekend, anyway?” Cotton looked genuinely confused; Pinkie behind her simply ran a hoof through her mane again before looking back up at Rarity.
“Have tea?” Rarity joked.
The filly rolled her eyes. “No, like, pretend you’re saying you like each other for the first time. It’s weird.”
“Hmm... not that weird,” Rarity replied, humming. “It’s an adult thing. I think you’ll understand when you’re older.”
“Not a normal adult thing,” Cotton protested. “I don’t think Auntie Fluttershy does that with Big Mac.”
“Well, perhaps not this specifically.” Rarity shrugged. “But everypony’s got some way to show their special somepony that they love them.”
“We just do it a liiiiittle more literally,” Pinkie said, laughing. She bounced forward to the middle of the room, and picked up a scone. “Want a scone?”
“What kind?” Cotton asked, eyeing the tin warily.
“Blueberry, silly!” Pinkie handed her one, which the filly readily bit into.
Rarity shook her head and sighed. Using her magic, she poured three cups of tea; then, a spoonful of sugar for her, and two each for Pinkie Pie and Cotton Candy. As the pink pony stepped around to take a seat beside Rarity on the sofa, their daughter sat down in the chair across from them.
“You guys are so sappy,” Cotton complained as Pinkie leaned over to nuzzle Rarity.
“Maybe we are,” Rarity said. “But is that such a bad thing to be?”
“I dunno.” Cotton took another bite of her scone. “I just don’t get why you’re doing all this, why you’re, like, acting this whole thing out.”
Rarity let out a breathy laugh. “Cotton Candy, sweetie... who said we’re acting?”
