In a quiet space, the ticking of a clock on the wall can be like the buzzing of a housefly; irritating and surprisingly loud. Add tension to that space, and the slow, constant barrage of ticks and tocks can become deafening. The clock on the wall of the dorm was especially loud this morning because the dorm's now sole occupant was quivering with giddy anticipation.

Before, one could just about set their watch by the coming and going of the young roommates, who until just recently had been students of the adjoining campus. Canterlot City College was a huge campus with a certain history that ensured the staff was slow to notice nor act on behalf of a few missing students.
Now, one bedroom was seldom used and the other had become a dark space for developing photographs. The kitchen was beginning to look abandoned, and the only sound in the dorm was the ticking of its clock.

There was a time when this quiet would have seemed a welcome reprieve, but now it was nothing more than a reminder of a great and glorious failure. It would not, could not happen again. Not in this world.

There was the cracking of multiple joints, a dry, rattling yawn, and finally a twisted knob at the bathroom sink. The mirror was ringed with images of the prey. Orange hair, magenta eyes, and a smile that seemed as brutal as a mace and as deft as a dagger.

"Not yet. It's too risky." Said Adagio Dazzle. The eyes above the mouth that had spoken were a chestnut color. They were set in a pale face with a bit of a snaggletooth in the smile. This lowly wretch had been called Featherweight, and this face did not match the voice that had just spoken.

The creature that was currently Featherweight had studied its prey with the utmost caution. It had never once been suspected since arriving here, and now the time was drawing near to strike. Even so, mistakes like this were unacceptable. The tap was turned off. There was a flash of sickly green light.

Adagio Dazzle looked back from the mirror with a dull expression. The creature used her prey's delicate fingers to prod and pull at the muscles of the face until it was like a photo of a photo of Adagio's cruel grin.

Impersonation was high art; the birthright of this creature. A satisfied smirk broke through for just a second.

A gentler push on the cheeks, and there was Adagio's pouty face, frequently used on her own prey to little effect. A pull down, and there was the toothy snarl shown when in poor company. The face twitched uncomfortably as it made micro-adjustments to match the fine details of the photograph.

An opportunity had arisen the previous sun, and with the seizing of it, Adagio Dazzle had made the slightest mistake. She had acquiesced to an interview. She had used the word 'boyfriend'. Now the local buzz was on her and her estranged partner, and surely that irritation would wear on her. A week from now? Perhaps.

No hands, now. Just focus. The face shook and twitched and buzzed with concentration as it contorted into Adagio's signature look; a half-lidded huff with the slightest tilt of the chin. A subtle stroking of the center of the clavicle. A curl of the lip somewhere between a smile and a sneer.

"Soon." The creature counted to three, then shifted to a furious glare. Another three count and a look of subdued desperation. Another three; pink hearts in the eyes. It ought to be a crime to be so very talented in such a dull and uncreative world.

Soon could not arrive any faster, but soon was more than enough. Very soon all the effort the creature had put to the craft would yield fruit, and everything would change.

Adagio Dazzle's head twitched with glee, a voice that wasn't hers chittering with humor.

What was funny about all of this was that the dullards of this realm were calling the creature 'Mothman'. This was hilariously degrading because moths are short-lived prey and often prone to accident. Why not compare the silhouette in the photographs to a more predatory part of the insect kingdom?

After all, there were no predators quite as vicious as a Changeling.

It was the Sunday after the disaster that was Saturday. Adagio Dazzle was horribly sober and keenly aware of how drained she was already.

Adagio had spent most of her energy on Saturday under the assumption that Buck would come to her bed and 'spoil' her until she was full to the brim with his passion, but that hadn't happened because everything went wrong.

As she stared at the ceiling from her prone position on the couch, Adagio wondered why she had thought she could keep this facade going. She had hoped for a few years to pass before Buck began to despise her.

In truth, she always expected this. She had spent Saturday telling Buck about her life, wondering at what point would he run from her in terror, and he simply hadn't. Instead, he hung on her every word and seemed more amazed than frightened. Buck had done was most humans simply could not. He listened. It was incredibly frustrating.

After all of that, he had held Adagio. He had kissed her and tried to love her.

Love.

He'd said the word love, even though he knew by now that Adagio was a monster. He refused to run, even when his life was in danger. He'd let his guard down when she was thirsty, and even through his quivering fear, he had accepted Adagio Dazzle, even knowing what she was.

And now he was gone. Humans were like walking dust to a creature like Adagio Dazzle. They were a moment in time. Temporary, simple, ugly. Annoying. Buck was those things as well. Except of course, for ugly. Buck was a shining jewel that Adagio had pulled from the sea, but then Starlight Glimmer had to come along and slap him out of her hands.

Gods, humans were so very far beneath her, and yet Adagio could not stop herself from hating that bitch. She must have been an especially self-righteous pony on the other side. She had seemingly no magic potential, so not a unicorn--a point in her favor--but nonetheless a constant irritant. Adagio wasn't much for revenge, but she knew that she would have to put that woman on the ground at some point if only to get her to stop meddling in her affairs.

As Adagio rose from the couch, her hair a nightmare of clumps and tangles, she wondered how exactly she could possibly turn this around. The windows were drawn, the thermostat at a chillingly comfortable fifty-five degrees. Buck would have hated that temperature. He would have held onto Adagio for warmth. That could have been today.

This wasn't like what Adagio had done before. Before she had wronged Buck, and was still paradoxically remorseful for it, but this time she hadn't actually done anything. She couldn't apologize for this; it was a simple fact about their relationship. Adagio needed emotion and magic to survive, and Buck was a bottomless source for her to tap. It was beautifully simple, but Adagio knew now that Buck didn't like to be used.

How could she have spun this? Tell him that she would die if he didn't kiss her from time to time? That would run him off. Enforce that he was simply special for some unknown means, play innocent? But he knew she could sense magic innately. If things had gone well and gone on long, perhaps she would have explained to him that he was essential for her survival in a practical sense, but not before she had gotten him properly isolated and dependent on her. Somehow, that approach didn't seem right either.

You don't forgive a person for what they are, because that's not something they can change. It was not a mistake that drove Adagio to pursue Buck, it was necessity. At least, that's how it started.

Now she craved him. Now Adagio Dazzle had gotten used to sipping on Buck and teasing him and letting him have his way with her. Now she well and truly did need the man, and this was the most distressing thought of all.

She knew that even if she went to him, the only taste she would find was the dull spectrum between depression and resignation.

Adagio would have to go to work tomorrow. The office was a pale purgatory of shuffling money and stunted emotions. It was the perfect place to hide, now that she was in the spotlight again. She would have to forgo having her usual break at Sugar Cube Corner. Little Miss Ditzy Doo would probably take joy in slamming the door in her face.

The wine glass which had wandered into Adagio's grip shattered against the kitchen floor.

Ditzy Doo had kissed him. He had kissed her back, and now she would have him all to herself. Buck was going to be broken and vulnerable and at home in a cast. Helpless. It was the perfect time for the girl next door to sink her claws into him, and there was nothing that Adagio could do about it.

Adagio would not let this be defeat. There had to be some way to negotiate this. Buck was forgiving, wasn't he? He would listen if Adagio waited to speak with him. But he was so broken. Adagio hadn't tasted anger in him; no it was a despair so cold that it felt like trying to drink the contents of an ice bath.

Now she was in her bedroom. She didn't know why. She didn't need to get dressed because there was nowhere to be. She'd called her insurance. She'd paid her rent.

Adagio's bed was so warm that it was like stepping out onto a beach in spring. The luxurious softness she had cultivated here had not come cheap, but some investments were essential for proper living.

Adagio had stared at her ceiling through the night, hoping that an answer would present itself to her. At this moment she was so exhausted that she made a critical mistake. She turned and laid down on her stomach, her nose pressed into the leftmost pillow on her bed. It still smelled like Buck's warmth, and his sweat and his shampoo.

Adagio spent the rest of the day weeping and holding that pillow, wishing desperately that she could turn back time.

It was Monday morning and a fresh new torment lay between Adagio and her daily trip to purgatory. Her car would spend two weeks getting un-mangled in the shop before she could go back to cruising around at her leisure, and that meant she would have to suffer the indignity of public transportation. Her office was both too far to walk and too close to justify a cab, and so every morning between now and the return of her conveyance would be a disgusting sample of bohemian life.

"All you have to do is make it to work without murdering anyone." Adagio grumbled.

Instead of Tartarus, the people of this world had a place called Hell, which Adagio understood to be a place of unending torture designed to frighten children and some adults into obeying their local cleric. For Adagio, hell was a crowded trolley car.

Adagio had prepared to be crammed into a sardine can with a bunch of wretched humans. What she was not prepared for was the noise.

The rumbling of wheels over the track, the subtle screech of the brakes, the twanging spark of the wires overhead, the mumbling of people going to places they didn't want to be, the occasional deranged reprobate holding a full conversation with the window, the cries of a child upset by the shaking, the sound of someone who either had never heard of headphones or simply wanted to torment everyone by blasting mumble rap as part of their morning routine, to the screaming fit of the aged woman being told that her creaking cart filled with various...accouterment would not, in fact, fit in the already crowded car; the trolley was indeed a smorgasbord of the cities' flavor. Unfortunately, that flavor smelled suspiciously like stale piss and spilled coffee.

Adagio was desperately counting the stops left, hands over her ears when she felt a tap on her shoulder.

"Buck?" Adagio's half-formed hopeful smile dropped into a scowl as she beheld a vaguely familiar face. A woman with cream-colored skin, curly pink and dark blue hair, and an annoyingly perky smile held an old polaroid camera up and took a quick snapshot.

"Oh, sorry! I didn't mean to startle you!"

"You didn't."

"Well, um, sorry to bother you, but you're Adagio Dazzle, right?"

"Yes. That's me. You knew that already, otherwise you wouldn't have taken a picture."

"Heheh, right! Sorry, uh, let me start again. I'm Bon Bon, and I'm--"

"Making this hellish trip even less bearable. Look, if you're a fan, I'd like to thank you for your devotion, but I don't do autographs."

"Oh, that's not what I--"

"I also don't do interviews with independent journalists."

"Well, that's--"

"And I am in the middle of a particularly unpleasant week."

"It's...Monday?"

"And oh, look at that! It's my stop, would you mind stepping aside?"

"Are you sure that's--"

"It is, I am, have a lovely day!"

"But, wait, I wanted to ask--"

"Take care, now!" Adagio could just barely stomach the stink of public transportation, but she would not suffer a perky little satellite if she could help it. She wondered if that child had stalked her onto the trolley or if it was a mere coincidence. It didn't matter in the end. She was only about a stop away from work. She could walk.

As the trolley rolled away, Adagio heard that same camera clicking noise. There was something unsettling and familiar about that sound, but recognition was crushed beneath the weight of the headache on top of Adagio's heartache. With a steadying breath and a flourish of her hair, she turned to finish her trip to work and walked directly into a light post.

It had taken Adagio Dazzle about a week to start recalling the name of the company that she worked for.

As it turned out it was called Affluent Answers, a subsidiary of massive grocery chain Barnyard Bargains, which in and of itself was a subsidiary of Farrier Incorporated; a conglomerate with its greedy claws in everything from real estate to office supplies, meat packing, farming, and metallurgy.

Affluent Answers may have been an office floor in the middle of the Barnyard Bargains Super Tower, but it was host to a small and well-paid army of accountants whose job was essentially to micromanage all of the pseudo-legal monetary sleight of hand that a corporation requires to grow indefinitely.

Adagio had been hired as a copy typist, but after a few weeks of doing not just her job but upstaging others on the office floor for kicks, she had been slantways promoted into the role of Accounting Specialist.

Adagio's job as an accountant was to move money around in a way that seemed appropriate for a tax bracket lower than what the company actually was, and on paper that sounded important, but in the paper of practice it was extraordinarily dull.

This dullness was matched by the aesthetic of the office space. It was an entire floor of beige and eggshell and carpets that were already ugly a decade ago. The equally outdated fluorescents bathed every cubicle in a numbing glare, and there was a singular playlist of top 40 tracks that looped twice during a shift. That playlist was at a volume just low enough to be considered background noise, and just loud enough to be annoying.

Adagio's earrings jingled as she strode down the hall to the office, content in the knowledge that she had torn through about two weeks of paper in the last couple of shifts, meaning that the top end of this pay period would likely involve her looking busy for the most part. Adagio was more than happy to get paid to be bored, though she knew that the prior evening's events would weigh on her. That, and she was already growing thirsty.

"You're late, Ms. Dazzle." Came the voice of sheer irritation. Adagio's hand was on the doorknob, but she sighed and turned on her heels to lock eyes with the third most irritating woman in her current life.

If homicidal stuffiness were an Olympic sport, Ms. Harshwhinny would be a gold medalist. She had caramel-colored skin and golden hair that never seemed to escape the bonds of its holding spray. Now and then, Adagio would notice with a quiet glee that the horrid sow she called her floor manager had a bit of gray growing right at the edges of her flawlessly maintained hairline. Harshwhinny's job was to slither around the office in a wine purple suit, towering above the cubicles in her pointed heels, and wait like a vulture for someone to make anything resembling a mistake. Then she would swoop down and scrutinize in a curt yet drawling transatlantic accent, spoken through an upturned nose and make her target regret ever taking a pen in hand.

Ms. Harshwhinny despised Adagio Dazzle, likely because Adagio's paperwork was uniformly excellent, and so the battle axe in shoulder pads was contented to find tiny little things to torment Adagio with.

"I'm seven minutes early." Adagio said. She took a private joy in the fact that she was not on the floor and therefore was not under company oath to smile at her manager.

"Yes, and you are typically thirty minutes early. You are excruciatingly late for being early, in other words. Have you anything to say in your defense?"

"Yes, I do." Adagio checked her analog wristwatch. "Unless you have something important to tell me about my shift today, I would like to clock in before you make me late." Adagio felt the concentrated pain behind her eyes shudder as anxiety ran through her veins. For the briefest of moments, the bitch had smiled.

"As a matter of fact, there is a pressing matter to address. Ms. Adagio Dazzle, it is said around the office that you are the finest accountant here at Affluent Answers. Therefore, I have been asked to inform you that our newest hire Miss...?"

"Bon Bon!" Said a horribly familiar face and voice, stepping out from Harshwhinny's shadow.

"Miss Bon Bon comes highly recommended from a reputable source for her quick learning and flexibility. I've been told that she will be an excellent addition to the team if given proper training. That is where you come in, Miss Dazzle."

"You want me to train her."

"Precisely. Although today, Bon Bon will simply shadow you and ask office appropriate questions about what you do. She has been permitted to take photographs of the office space so long as she stays away from restricted areas such as my office. She is also not permitted to take pictures of paperwork."

"What?"

"Say cheese!" Bon Bon's polaroid clicked and flashed, capturing what was likely Adagio's most disheveled appearance outside of her suite.

"Aside from answering with the professionalism we strive for in this office, I expect you to pretend that she isn't here at all."

"I will do my very best at that." Adagio said.

"Excellent. With that said, I leave her in your capable hands." Harshwhinny stepped around Adagio and opened the office door. The coolness of the hallway was briefly invaded by the stale office air.

"Will that be all, then?" Adagio said. Ms. Harshwhinny paused.

"Ah yes, I'm afraid that Miss Shoeshine is a no call, no show. If she does not return or contact our office within the week, she will be considered terminated." Harshwhinny said, checking her clipboard.

"That's unfortunate, but what does that have to do with me, exactly?"

"Well, in lieu of her sudden disappearance, I've entrusted Miss Shoeshine's current accounts to you. You are our finest accountant, or so they say. You should be done before overtime sets in, certainly. Speaking of which, you ought to clock in now, Miss Dazzle. Unless of course you want to be more than one minute late?"

As her floor manager ambled off to go terrorize an intern, Adagio felt a portion of her soul tear itself away so that it could scream ceaselessly into the void. The rest of Adagio's soul gently considered what sort of workers' compensation would be awarded if she lit the printer on fire and happened to find Harshwhinny beneath it.

There was another click of Bon Bon's camera as Adagio realized the kind of marathon that this work week was going to be.

It was still Monday, but a bit later, and the disquiet tingling sensation that precedes a migraine was sneaking into Adagio's head.

Before Adagio was her cell in this time-leeching prison that was commonly called an office. She wondered if the spending money she got here was actually worth the blinks of time she spent sitting in a chair that was only slightly comfortable.

There were two neat plastic bins, labeled "Soon" and "Done". One had an offensively high stack of papers and one had nothing in it at the moment, since Adagio was apparently a tour guide today.

"And this is where you'll be working. Every employee here has their own workspace, which you are allowed to dress up and customize within reason. The main point is to have a space for you to hunch over with low walls so that Harshwhinny can glare over your shoulder." Adagio heard a tiny chuckle ripple across the small lake of cubicles. She had done all in her power to ignore her co-workers during her time in the office, and so far that strategy had kept her in good favor.

"Okay, question!" Bon Bon said.

"You don't have to preface them."

"How do you get your station together for the day? Do you have a system like you put your pen in that exact spot and your paper over there? Do you have to dust your desk off? How should I try to make my cubicle look?" There was something naively inane about this question that might have gotten a chuckle out of Adagio a week ago. She was frankly having a hard time reading Bon Bon; couldn't taste her intentions beyond actual enthusiasm, but something seemed the slightest bit off.

"There's a reason to everything I do here. It's not exactly that all of your needs for tools need to be met; we have a stock room with plenty of extra office supplies, except for the most expensive things. If you ask me, the most important thing about your workstation is that it's orderly enough that you can navigate it."

"Huh?" Adagio beckoned Bon Bon a bit closer and spoke low and conspiratorial.

"But chaotic enough that a co-worker would be afraid to move something around, and a boss would look and think you're in the thick of it. You'll find that the most important skill for surviving office work is learning how to look busy. Every little piece can be a silent message." Adagio gestured at the loosely arranged papers in the center of the desk, a prop pencil that was short from over-sharpening and a few paper clips placed around a cup of them so that a prying eye might assume they were grabbed unthinkingly. In this sense, Adagio's workstation was more a carefully laid out stage than anything else.

"Does...that thing count as chaotic or orderly?" Bon Bon pointed at the corner of the desk, where a little mockup of an aquarium glowed and scrolled with false sea life. Across the silvery top of the glowing box sat the words 'Best Wishes, Buck' in sharpie. The idiot had meant for the message to be wiped off at Adagio's leisure, but he'd mixed his markers. Adagio heard his voice in her mind.

"If I had to sit atta desk and fuckin' push numbers around for eight hours, I think I'd want somethin' to dissociate into." Adagio had scoffed at the time, but Buck had been right on the money. This device had proved essential for maintaining her sanity.

"That was a gift."

"Oh, I see! From Buck, right?"

"...yes, How exactly do you know about Buck?"

"Oh, everyone in town knows about you two!"

"...right."

"Is it...is it true what they say about him?" Now Bon Bon's tone dropped carefully.

"Excuse me?"

"You know...what they say about Buck?"

"I don't know what you mean."

"You know...that he used to be uh...you know?" Bon Bon did some kind of nonsensical gesture with her fingers that failed to impress any meaning on Adagio.

"I'm going to get some coffee. Don't touch anything." Adagio said, pinching the bridge of her nose.

It was Tuesday morning, and Adagio could not even have a drink at the water fountain without being barraged with obnoxious questions. "Questions" was a very general term for them. What they were instead was a series of rambling statements that had a question mark at the end of them due to the mustangian accent of the inquirer.

"So I says to Sea Swirl, well tie me up and throw me down! That Adagio Dazzle is such a snappy dresser even when she's fightin' monsters! I've just gotta know darlin', who did the stitchin' work on that dress'a yers? It was absatively stunnin'!"

To Adagio's gentle surprise, no one else in the office seemed to care much about her being a hideously powerful sea witch, but that lack of curiosity did not apply to Ms. Peachbottom; the lemon skinned, fern haired office gossip.

"Oh, it's a custom tailored vintage piece. You can't exactly find them any more. I didn't expect to fight any tentacled horrors during my date, honestly." Adagio said, trying not to grind her teeth as she inched away.

"And then there's that Buck-o'-yers! Not all that much to look at, but he sure can swing an axe, now can't he?" Peachbottom's laugh was cut off by the venom radiating from Adagio's glare. There was a click of the camera that made Adagio crush her paper water cup, then look slowly askance. Bon Bon's face went even paler as she took a careful step backward.

"I-I-I heard that you and Buck really showed off at karaoke night a while ago! Did you know he could sing when you started dating?" Bon Bon said.

"No. Our relationship was very spur of the moment. Buck is just happens to have a handful of esoteric skills." Adagio sighed. She could feel the very bags under her eyes thickening.

"Are you feelin' alright, hun? Ya look exhausted. Are things okay back at the ranch?" Ms. Peachbottom made a high school theater kid's attempt at concern, but Adagio could taste her lust for juicy hearsay.

"Oh no, you and Buck aren't having a fight, are you?" Bon Bon said.

"I appreciate the concern, but that's none of your business. If it's all the same to you, I think I'm going to take my lunch early." Bon Bon followed in lockstep as Adagio made her way to the break room. "I'd like to take it alone, if you don't mind, Bon Bon."

"Oh, um..I--"

"I'm sure Ms. Peachbottom would be happy to look after your training while I take a break. Isn't that right?"

"I would? Oh, yeah, o'course I would! C'mon then, I'll show you mah cubicle! Say, where'd ya say yer folks're from again?" Bon Bon's simpering protests were cut off as Peachbottom trained her gossip on her. To Adagio's bemusement, Bon Bon didn't sound like she had an answer to any of Peachbottom's questions.

The good thing about working in an office space was that just about everyone was bubbling over with suppressed emotions. The bad news was that feeding on this stew of dull angst, self-loathing and overarching ambivalence was about the same as subsisting on stale crackers. Adagio desperately needed a reprieve from chewing on this emotional drywall, and after wracking her brain, she'd tossed together a cunning scheme.

Adagio stepped into the worker's elevator and hit the button for the first floor. It was a bit of a trip, but Adagio's mouth watered as she considered the prize waiting for her. It would be a tiny piece of paradise in her hellish week.

Adagio was sulking in the direction of her heels when the elevator made an unexpectedly early stop. A brown sleeved arm slipped in, followed by an aggressively oiled salt-and-pepper head of hair. An incredibly tacky tie and the sneer just above it marked this man as Adagio's boss; Filthy Rich, owner of this tower and a horde of other equally expensive things.

The taste of the man's greed was like a soured bowl of stew filled with miss-matched ingredients; a flavor so pungent that Adagio frequently struggled not to gag in his presence. Adagio's shift to the office upstairs was a bit of a mercy since it meant she rarely had to languish under the man's draconian glare. This distance was, of course, part of her plan to drag a tidy piece of blackmail out of him should he decide he wanted to make a move, but thus far Filthy Rich had been content to sit in his office and grumble about his wife between inane company phone calls.

"Well if it isn't my favorite former copy typist! What brings you down to my level today, Adagio?" Said Filthy Rich in an accent that bespoke a Hayseed country club.

"Oh, not much, sir. I was just heading down to the lobby to pick up a bit of lunch for Ms. Harshwhinny." Adagio's voice for Filthy Rich was high-pitched to a nearly tweenaged degree. The exact kind of voice a grubby old bastard wants to hear as their receptionist bends down to retrieve a pen.

"Is that woman bullying you again, Adagio?" For all her bluster, Harshwhinny had proved an excellent shield against the overreaching Filthy Rich on the office floor. Rich couldn't fire an employee for merely standing up to him, so there was tension, and these sorts of office rivalries always trickled down. Adagio refused to give him a shred of ammunition.

"No sir, not at all! I just happened to notice that Ms. Harshwhinny has hardly been out of her office all day, so I thought I might save her a bit of legwork when she's clearly busy." Adagio said. She made her best attempt at a smile in Filthy Rich's direction.

"I see, I see. Well I'm glad to see how handy and concerned you are for your superiors! It's a shame your time as my copy typist was so short; I would've been glad to keep you close by." Filthy Rich's raking talon landed on Adagio's shoulder. She could taste the barely checked desire dribbling from the aging millionaire. Filthy Rich tasted like the type of man to drown a steak in ketchup.

"Well, I simply saw that the floor needed a ringer and rose to the challenge! That's what we're all about here, isn't it?" Adagio said.

"Indeed we are, Adagio. Now, I heard through the grapevine that you've found yourself a nice boy?" Filthy's hand tightened ever so slightly on her shoulder. Damn it all to hell! Why did they have to keep bringing him up?

"I would say he's a bit more than a boy, sir. Things are rarely boring with him around, I'll give him that!" Adagio giggled demurely.

"It's just, I hear the lad has something of a reputation. I'd advise you to be careful with who you're seen with, Adagio. We wouldn't want to harm the company's reputation, now would we?" Filthy Rich tasted like a man walking down the street, clutching a coin in his pocket.

"With all due respect sir; how I spend my free time is entirely up to me."

"Of course, darlin'. Of course." Adagio stepped out into the well-conditioned air of the lobby, happy to be out of the stuffy metal box and her impromptu meeting with Filthy Rich. She approached the front desk, where her prize was waiting.

"Oh, Miss Adagio! We don't see you much down here! How can I help you?" Adagio could never remember the name of this wispy slip of a woman that manned the desk, but her placard was happy to be of help.

"Good afternoon, Vapor Trail. I'm here to pick up an order?"

"Oh, are you picking up for Ms. Harshwhinny?" Adagio gave a nod, and Vapor Trail produced a pink and white striped doughnut box. Adagio's salvation lay just inside.

"You have great timing! This package was just delivered!" The woman's voice cracked with enthusiasm.

"Between you and me, Vapor Trail, there's no need to use your customer service voice here. Not with me." Adagio smiled. Vapor Trail visibly deflated with relief.

"Oh good. I get so tired having to perform for all those stuffy office types." Vapor sighed.

"Tell me about it. Hm...between us girls, you wouldn't happen to have any headache medication back there?" Adagio tried, rubbing her temple. Vapor Trail gave a maniacal giggle as she lifted a plastic jar of bulk ibuprofen and set it on the counter.

As Adagio took refuge in the only private space in the office that wasn't haunted by the voices of pop stars that she'd like very much to strangle, she placed the little cardboard box in her lap. The bathroom stalls at Affluent Answers briefly struck her with misty-eyed nostalgia for better times.

On the road, the best thing you could expect out of a bathroom stall was some chuckle-inducing graffiti, and the worst you could expect drove Adagio to carry spare toilet seat covers in her purse. She and the girls would joke about which of the bathrooms they found were the most disgusting as they fled whatever small town they had ruined that week.

The bathroom stall she occupied now was wood-paneled and blessedly spacious, but it lacked a certain character. That, and the ever-buzzing fluorescents made the inside of her ear itch. The two headache pills she had taken were certainly helpful, but even as she opened the box, she regretted that she would have to make it back to her cubicle for more torture very soon.

The treat radiated a sense of cozy contentment. Sugar Cube Corner utilized a small heat lamp in their display case so that the contents would stay warm to the touch. Adagio felt that familiar warmth creep into her as she drank in the scent of the Blood Orange Tart she was holding.

She assumed that if she were to walk into Sugar Cube Corner right now there would be yelling and possibly thrown objects. She didn't know how far or how petty Miss Ditzy Doo would go for revenge, but spitting in Adagio's food seemed reasonable. Scootaloo was a wild card, but Adagio didn't want to take any chances. That is why she charged the order to her company expense account and put it in Harshwhinny's name.

Adagio bit into the tart, failing in any respect to be dainty about it, and a moan shuddered her body. It was not simply her favorite treat, but one she had come to savor as a reprieve during her long shifts. The care and love of the Cakes was present in every bite, and the association with Adagio's interactions with Buck sent a wave of serotonin blasting through her head. She felt her magic reserves tick up just the slightest bit, and so she tore into the baked good, hoping that she could savor it for just a few more bites.

As Adagio licked her fingers clean, her reverie was shattered as she felt a sudden coldness at the tip of her shoe. She lifted her toe to see some sort of...well, she squinted at it, and all she could tell was that it seemed vaguely transparent and decidedly viscous. Like some sort of snot.

There was the kind of soft plop you preferred not to hear in a public restroom and a drop of whatever it was hit the floor right in front of her. Immediately, Adagio's eyes frantically shifted up, where she noticed an odd dark spot in the ceiling just over her stall. Whatever it was, it certainly was not OSHA compliant, and as Adagio extended a hand to catch another stray drop, she wondered what sort of settlement she could get in court if she reported this. Frankly, she didn't think she had that sort of effort in her today.

The thought was distant, as much of her headspace was currently occupied with silent screaming.

That's when the smell hit her. The tart had overtaken all of her senses until just that moment, but now that her focus was horribly fixated on the work safety nightmare that was slowly dripping above her head, she realized that the bathroom smelled in a way that bathrooms typically didn't.

It was very faint, but it smelled like aspic and licorice; an essence combination so vile that Adagio was suddenly glad she had a toilet just beneath her in case she vomited. She slammed the door open and ran to the sink, washing her hands at the hottest temperature possible and then wiping off her shoe with as much care as she could muster with her shaking hand.

Adagio's pulse had quickened with disgust, and her heart was pounding in her ears, but she could swear that very distantly, there was a sound not unlike someone calling out.

"And you say you have no idea what the substance is?"

"Correct. All I know is that it's currently dripping from the ceiling in the women's bathroom, and it likely started just recently since there was no mess on the floor when I entered." Adagio said, begrudgingly to Ms. Harshwhinny. As she preferred to keep her interactions with Filthy Rich as brief and well-spaced as possible, she had no other option but to report to her direct superior. Harshwhinny paced briefly around the carpet and Adagio heard her mutter something about this place being held together with baling wire and duct tape.

"I shall see it handled with expediency." Harshwhinny said with a look of acute disgust. Another click of the camera.

"Is there something wrong with the bathroom?" Bon Bon asked.

"Oh, there's been a bit of a leak; massive slipping hazard I'm afraid, and so this floor's bathroom is going to be locked until we can get a proper plumber's attention." Adagio understood the sharp and sour anxiety that came from Harshwhinny at that moment. No need to scandalize the company by scaring off a new hire with the horror show going on in the bathroom.

"Bon Bon, would you be a dear and print up a sheet saying that this bathroom is off limits and tape it to the door?" Adagio said.

"Um, well sure, I suppose I can." Bon Bon said.

"Thank you both for your cooperation. I have a call to make." Harshwhinny said, mid-stride. In another world, Adagio would have felt sorry for the amount of pressure on the floor manager's shoulders, but in this world, she recognized Harshwhinny as a consistent thorn in her side, so the sentiment died in the crib. The rest of the day dragged on in typical fashion, but Adagio could not help but feel shaken as she slowly worked her way through her pile of documents.

It was Tuesday night, and it was only after Adagio knocked on the door that she realized she was making a mistake. There had naturally been zero communication since Sunday because she was the villain in everyone's eyes, but she had a very slim hope that she could make an appearance at Game Night uninvited and make a pass at appearing remorseful. If she was being honest with herself, the camaraderie of game night the previous week was like a soothing mineral bath in comparison to the stale drudgery of office work, and she hoped against hope that she could still place it in her schedule.

That hope was dashed and smeared along the ground as she tasted the bitter contempt coming from Sunburst as he answered the door.

"Why are you here, Adagio?" It came at the end of a suffering sigh. Sunburst was in his pyjamas, clutching a cup of coffee.

"I'm...sorry for invading. I know I wasn't invited, but I thought that I could just pop in for a moment and speak to Buck?"

"Buck? He's...Adagio, we're not doing Game Night tonight. We're all recovering from Saturday, and even if we weren't, you know I wouldn't let you in here to see Buck."

"Sunburst, please--"

"No, Adagio. Do you remember the countless times I've told you to talk to Buck when you have complicated feelings about him?"

"...yes."

"This isn't one of those times. Buck was destroyed after what happened. Do you understand? My best friend is heartbroken over you. He isn't picking up his phone."

"Well, I know his is broken, but I sent--"

"He's also not answering DMs on social media. When I went to his place and Ditzy let me in, I heard him run to his bedroom and lock the door. He didn't even sound like himself when he asked me to leave. He sounded like he had been screaming for days. Buck is a sensitive man, Adagio, and you only know a little of what he's gone through."

"I understand that it was dramatic--"

"No, you DON'T UNDERSTAND!" Sunburst shouted. Adagio was shocked into silence.

"You don't understand, because even after all the time you've spent with him, you don't understand who Buck is! It took him so much courage to trust you, Adagio! He had every reason to run from you, but because he felt so strongly about you, he kept giving you a chance, even after Starlight and Ditzy and I all warned him! He wanted so badly for you to be different, but now he's found out you've just been using him and he's broken. He is so twisted up inside he doesn't want to look at anyone, let alone talk to them, and he's more alone than ever, and it's because he trusted you, Adagio!" Sunburst lip quivered, and it looked like it took a great deal of effort on his part to not start crying then and there.

"But it wasn't me! Starlight was the one that brought it up! None of this would have happened if she had just kept her mouth shut." Adagio snapped. She felt a kind of murderous rage in Sunburst that she'd only ever felt from Aria. Sunbursts' glare seemed as a magnifying glass held between the sun and Adagio's heart.

"And if she hadn't talked, what would you have done? Would you have just kept drinking him, hoping that he didn't realize he had power while putting his life in danger? Every time you two interact, there's a chance of a rift to Equestria opening, and you know Buck's feelings would have only gotten stronger and stronger with time. What was your plan, Adagio!?"

"I...I don't know anymore."

"You need to leave. You need to leave me and Starlight alone, and you definitely need to leave Buck alone. You were my friend, Adagio. You were my friend, and I tried to vouch for you, but when Starlight said what she said, you didn't even think about telling Buck that it wasn't true, did you? You didn't even try to say that you were going to tell him, or that you didn't mean to use him. You didn't deny your role in this, Adagio, because Starlight was right."

"Sunburst, please. You're the only person I can ask; what am I supposed to do?" Adagio's brain roared and pulled at its chains as her heart suddenly spoke. Her words came out desperate and shaky. This could not be the end.

"You need to leave him alone." The door slammed, and Adagio was once again left alone with her thoughts.

It was Wednesday afternoon and Adagio was a burnt-out bomb shelter that had the miraculous ability to fill out paperwork.

At the moment, Adagio's mental processes were fully focused on the monotony of copying papers to be filed in triplicate. Adagio had once again failed to get anything but fitful, exhausting sleep last night, and she was thirsty, and more than anything she was angry at herself for getting so invested in a stupid boy. A part of her that rarely spoke unless it was important told her to stop calling him that, but she kicked it down the street and flipped another page.

In between the fluttering of her eyelids, she suddenly found herself hearing a conversation in the break room. She hadn't really noticed her feet shuffling in there, nor her hands leaving with a warm mug of coffee, but her ears perked and she leaned on the wall next to the threshold when she heard familiar voices speaking urgently.

"And you're certain that you didn't see anything? She wasn't acting strange, or suspicious?" Said the voice of Ms. Harshwhinny; that fluffed-up donkey in human skin.

"No, not at all! The last thing I saw, she went into the elevator during her break, and she never came back!" Said the living irritant, Bon Bon, likely clutching that stupid camera to her chest like a stuffed animal.

"She didn't mention anything that may have upset her?"

"Well...she did say she was going to the bathroom, but that may have been less of an emergency and more of an...well a sort of different emergency."

"The bathroom that has been locked since yesterday?"

"No ma'am, I think she was headed downstairs."

"I see. Well, thank you for reporting this to me, Miss Bon Bon. If you see any other bizarre happenstances in the office, I'd like you to report to me again, and not to Filthy Rich."

"Ma'am?"

"To be frank, Miss Bon Bon, this is the second person to disappear on me just this week, and while that is very concerning, I don't want to be known as a floor manager that allows valued employees to slip through the cracks. I intend to run a tight ship and I expect absolute professionalism on this floor. With that said, I hope these strange events haven't turned you away from staying on board. You've shown great promise at swiftly copying documents and memorizing information."

"Oh, well, that's nice of you to say!"

"Nice is not the word, Miss Bon Bon. It is merely an accurate observation of your skills. Don't sell yourself short."

"Uh...yes ma'am."

"And you may want to see someone about that shudder of yours. You're shaking like a cricket in spring."

"Yes ma'am. Sorry ma'am."

"Excellent. As you were, then." When Ms. Harshwhinny turned out of the threshold, Adagio was already back at her cubicle.

Adagio let loose a deep breath and tried to bleed the venom out of her glare before casting it at Bon Bon.

"Is it a paper jam?" Bon Bon said. She took a picture of Adagio standing next to the printer for good measure. The tiny screen on the side was blinking with a large red 'X'.

"Is this what you called me over here for?" Adagio grumbled.

"I don't really know what to do..."

"Hit the button there with the little menu icon." There was a bleep. "Now hit the one that says 'diagnostic'." And then a bloop.

"It says its out of ink." Adagio exhaled with a deep sense of relief. It wasn't some infernal computing problem, just a normal, manageable analog issue. This she could navigate and still look professional. "What happens now?"

"Well, what would happen with an older printer is it would produce pictures that grew increasingly faded and light until it wouldn't print anything at all even after going through the motions. An excellent metaphor for office work. Or mortality, I suppose." Adagio smiled.

"Uh..."

"Now, however, the machine will complain at you until you give it what it needs, which is ink." Adagio yawned.

"Right...so where do we get more ink?" Bon Bon's question was innocent enough, and perhaps it was the thirst or the lack of sleep, but Adagio struggled to check her own wickedness.

The natural answer was to just go to another floor and steal cartridges from them. Bon Bon was looking at Adagio with a mix of skepticism and curiosity, with a thin bit of anxiety beneath. Adagio had kept the young woman at arm's length so far, and she'd prefer to keep it that way. Explaining that she would steal ink carts would provoke follow-up questions, and Adagio was halfway mentally checked out of this shift. Follow-up questions wouldn't do.

The next possible answer was probably what Harshwhinny, the detestable arm of management would want to hear. You put a little sign on the printer saying it's off, then turn it off, then fill a requisition form and ask for more cartridges and hope for a reply.

Adagio decided that it would take too many words to explain that.

"In case of an emergency, you can run out to the supply store around the corner and use your expense account to buy a few."

"But isn't the expense account only for purchases related to but outside of work?" Bon Bon said. Adagio shut her eyes tight before they rolled across the floor.

"Yes, technically, but no one is going to begrudge you for using it creatively. You need to have access to what you need, even if you have to bend the rules a bit to get it. If the company won't see to your needs, you see to them yourself, that's all there is to it." Adagio said it like she was teaching third grade, and Bon Bon whipped out a little notepad and scribbled what Adagio hoped was an abridged version of the speech that did not credit her as a source.

"I get it, but what do we do about the ink right now?"

"Oh, go bother Harshwhinny about that. I'm going to go have a seat, and I don't know when I'll get up again." Adagio yawned.

It was Thursday morning and Adagio's head was just about to fall in half. After three mornings of auditory jackhammering on the edges of her psyche, Adagio's trolley ride had become something so excruciating that she knew her only recourse was to start taking a cab and damn the expense before she swore bloody vengeance against the very concept of public transportation.

She thought distantly that she might have a better trip if she simply tore the ears right off her head, but that would only make a loud scene into a louder production. She had made an attempt at ordering some noise-canceling headphones on Monday before even bothering to head out, and they had yet to arrive. Same-day delivery was a filthy lie, and she would find some way to get back at the shipping company if it was her last act on this miserable plane.

The pain rattling in her skull was only heightened as the trolley decided to stop in front of some road work in which tools better described as instruments of acoustic torture where being used, and Adagio felt a countdown start in the back of her head which began with ten and ended in wholesale slaughter.

The rabble of the trolley had taken on more of a droning cadence as the dreaded presence of morning people meant a wide variety of inane small talk was sure to surround Adagio during her commute. She had almost gotten used to the white noise of the trolley, but today the street adjacent was filled with bumper to bumper honking, misfiring engines, and the occasional argument between drivers which never transitioned from obnoxiously loud to violently entertaining. Adagio's hands returned to her ears after rubbing her eyes, and she blinked several times before she realized that what she saw near the front of the trolley was real.

It was impossible to forget the slope of those shoulders, or the light blue streak in his mulberry hair, or the slow, pained rolling of his sore neck. Buck was on the trolley, likely to work. But how? Why? Wasn't he supposed to be healing his fractured arm? He couldn't possibly be mentally well enough to play at being an extrovert for hours out of the day. What was he doing here?

Adagio also noticed that the seat next to him was vacant, but there was no way it would remain that way. Sunburst was right; Adagio was the worst thing in this man's life at the very moment and she knew it, but she also knew that just sitting around with her hands over her ears would only ensure that she wouldn't be seeing Buck again for a very long time. The next stop was only two blocks away, and any minute now, the trolley was going to fill to bursting. If Adagio let that happen, she would never have another chance to assess the damage she had done.

And so, against her better judgment, the advice of Sunburst and the screaming in the back of her head, Adagio rose on quivering knees. She put her fingers against her temples as she walked down the aisle to plant herself right next to Buck.

He had his earphones in, and he was staring out the window. His left arm was still in a sling, and his right sat lonely in his lap. Adagio thought she might touch his hand to catch his attention, but he might slap it away, and she didn't think she could bear that. Sandwiched as they were by the commuters surrounding them, Adagio could not get a decent taste profile on Buck, but she could sense distantly that he was still radiating cold despair at the most.

Adagio closed her eyes and counted to ten. She tried very hard to drown out the lunatic muttering of the trolley and just step into the moment.

She failed.

Adagio's jaw clenched and her fingers dug into her scalp and her head throbbed and she felt like her brain was a pebble in a rock tumbler. Her only thought then was that she shouldn't start crying before she even got to work, let alone in front of Buck. She was just about to choke out a greeting, but a truck's horn outside caused her thoughts to derail and tumble into the canyon next to the track.

"What are you doing here?" A spike of Buck's anger smashed into the side of Adagio's brain. He tasted furious, but it was only the tip of the spear. The rest was a coldness she didn't think Buck could ever articulate in words.

"I'm on my way to work." It was a struggle to speak or to think.

"No, I mean why are you sitting next to me, Adagio?"

"Are you going to pretend you don't know me, now?" Adagio tried to sound aloof, but it was more of a pained whimper as her brain writhed in agony.

"Fucking...Are you going to pretend things are fine between us?" Adagio's eyes stayed on the hand in Buck's lap. It clenched and shook so much Adagio thought that Buck might bleed his own palm with his nails.

"Can we please talk?"

"Fuck...no! No, I don't want to fuckin' talk to you, Adagio!" Buck lowered his voice into a whisper yell. Adagio held on to what she could taste in Buck; a swirling mess of anger and despair and resignation and exhaustion, and now anxiety right at the top. This was too soon, and it was also likely her only chance. "Do you have any fucking clue what...none of this is...I told you to stay away from me. I can't believe you'd be so fucking narcissistic as to think that I'd just...what? What's the matter? You're shaking."

"Buck pleheheeease..." Adagio's hands flew back to her ears. She was sitting in a whirlpool of Buck's hurt, and outside of that was the mad cacophony of public transit. It was like sitting in the middle of a mad orchestra pit. She screwed her eyes shut and tried not to sob.

Adagio couldn't really understand what Buck was saying now. She couldn't hear him over the shrieking of the wheels on the tracks or the arguments happening toward the back and out the window and on the sidewalk. The clearest thing in the world was Buck's emotions, which shifted into another flash of anger, then concern, denial of that concern, and then bald compassion. She felt his hand on her shoulder and his arm around her neck. He was saying something else.

"-can you hear me?" Buck's voice had gone soft, and it was just over Adagio's ear.

"Barely...I underestimated the effect this hell box would have on my sensitive ears. Like the whole world is screaming and falling to pieces."

"You're overstimulated."

"You're not perfect either, Buck."

"It hasn't even been a week." Buck's hand returned to his lap.

"What?"

"It hasn't even been a week and you're playing me again." Buck's teeth gritted.

"I'm not--I'm not trying to manipulate you, Buck!" Adagio grunted. The trolley bounced and nearly disheveled her straight out of her seat.

"What the fuck do you call this, then?" Buck's pain was invading Adagio's heart. She kept rubbing her eyes and looking away from him and clutching her chest. She was too weak for this; she couldn't acclimate to his emotions, and now the ache in her heart threatened to shut down her nervous system. Adagio grabbed onto the rail on the seat before her just to keep steady.

"I'm sorry!" Adagio whispered.

"No, you're just sorry you got caught!" Buck had run halfway between a growl and a yell. He looked like he was struggling to hold himself together as well.

"Not about that, I'm sorry for right now."

"Why?"

"Because I need your help. Buck please, help me get through this and I'll leave you alone." She could not believe how far she had fallen.

Adagio reached out, looking for a speck of the spicy-sweet love that Buck overflowed with before, but all she could find was a chilling abyss. She swam in that lonely place, groping blindly for something to hold onto, and she found purchase on a tiny raft that tasted of grim solidarity and compassion. Another of Buck's weaknesses. The thought withered on the vine in her head. Her fists were shaking in her lap.

Adagio felt a tug on her ear and then reached up to press at the earbud that had been placed there. The line ran down to her lap and up to Buck's other ear.

https://soundcloud.com/user-172575235/when-i-fall-in-love-bucks-cover

"Listen, just close your eyes and listen, okay? It's just you and me. " Buck soothed. His arm was around her again. He was speaking softly in her ear.

What came down the wire was a song that must have seemed very old to Buck. It was a ballad that Adagio could only barely remember, but the words found new meaning when they came from Buck.

"When I fall in love

It will be forever

Or I'll never fall

in love..."

When it was released, this song was about the search for eternal love in another person. As Buck sang it, however, Adagio understood it as something far more depressing. Even so, Buck's hand squeezed and stroked tenderly at her shoulder, and his honey voice swelled gently in the small space between them until it filled Adagio's whole world.

"In a restless world like this is

Love is ended before it's begun.

And too many moonlight kisses

Seem to cool in the warmth of the sun..."

Buck's words trembled. He tasted of regret and pain and quiet resignation. And just the very thinnest veneer of hope.

"When I give my heart

It will be completely

Or I'll never give my heart..."

For all Adagio had seen of Buck, she hadn't understood how significant she was to him.

"And the moment

I can feel that you feel that way too

is when I'll fall in love

with you..."

And when he realized that all he was to her was a meal, his heart had torn itself apart. It wasn't so much that he couldn't love Adagio Dazzle, it's that he simply didn't think Adagio could ever feel for him the way he felt for her. In this way, the lyrics of the song spoke of Buck wanting for something impossible.

As Adagio floated on the song's tender refrain, she could not escape the pressing needles of every subtle pain in Buck's heart. The trolley was gone. Adagio escaped the pandemonium around her to sit in Buck's despair. Why did he have to choose this song? Was he lashing out, or was he just painfully honest?

For all the ache she felt now, Adagio realized suddenly that Buck had just cast a song of Calm on her, just like she used to do for her sisters. He let go of her and took the earbud out of his own ear.

"Buck..." Adagio reached for his hand, but he snatched it away. She looked up and saw tears on his face. She looked around and found that the chattering of the trolley had stopped. Some people were now recording them with smartphones, but most were simply staring. The earbuds dropped into Adagio's lap.

"Keep 'em. You need 'em more than I do." Buck choked out.

"Buck, please..." Adagio drew close to say it softly, but Buck looked away.

"I did that because you needed help, and you asked." Buck said. He tried to hide against the window, but Adagio could taste how much it hurt for him to simply look at her. If he hated her that much, he could at least have the courtesy to scream in her face.

"Buck, I swear I'm not trying to get under your skin. This is just a coincidence."

"Sure. And so was sniffing me out at speed datin'. So was coming to fake an apology for chasing me around. So was pretending like you gave a shit when you overstepped my bounds. All of it was just a coincidence."

"That's not what I mean, Buck!" Adagio tried desperately to get her tears to stop.

"Come to think of it, you never once said you cared about me. I thought you were being cute, but I basically had to force you to say that you even liked me. I should've known. How hard was it to put up with me, Adagio? How desperately did you need a meal to settle for a guy like me?" Adagio was knocked over by a wave of bitter melancholy.

"You're not being fair, Buck." Adagio sobbed. She hadn't meant it to come out that way. She couldn't understand why Buck was acting this way. He had been so deft and such an odd savant at charming Adagio so far and getting what he wanted, but now he just tasted like a sadistic honesty. Cold torture coiled around Adagio's heart and squeezed down.

"All of the time we've spent together was based on a lie. You made me want to love you, Adagio, and none of it was fuckin' real."

"Buck..." Adagio's breath got caught in her throat as the weight of guilt settled across her shoulders for the first time in millennia.

"Get up." Buck was only just keeping it together, but it clearly wouldn't last. Adagio couldn't meet his eyes, so she settled for staring at his feet. "I said get up. This is my stop." Adagio limply pinched at the sleeve of his work shirt as he shuffled by.

"Buck please, we don't have to go to work. I can...I can pay you whatever they would pay you for the day, please Buck, we can talk about this pleasepleaseplease..." Adagio said. She tried to be as quiet as possible, but she knew the cameras were on the two of them now. This was the cost of fame, however brief.

"Leave me the fuck alone." Buck said, yanking his sleeve free.

Bon Bon had been surprisingly quiet today. She had asked Adagio once or twice for a writing utensil, but beyond that, it seemed that she and the rest of the office were content to leave Adagio to her stupor as she navigated her paperwork. Then Adagio's forehead found the coolness of the table in the breakroom and her eyes closed and Home beckoned to her. She desperately missed the silence and the cold and the dark, until a warm hand tapped her shoulder.

"What." It was more an accusation than a question of intent. Bon Bon looked down at Adagio with rosy cheeks and sat down next to her.

"I...um, I just wanted to ask...well, Buck has a reputation, you know, and I guess I just wanted to ask, um...what...uh, what's he like?" Bon Bon said. In the space of the sentence, she had gone from checking her phone to placing it face down on the table to shoving it into her pocket. It made Adagio wonder why anyone would check social media for any reason besides obligation. There was so much she could say right now, but so much of Buck's proclivities now seemed like something just out of reach, and the distance made her furious and needy.

Adagio closed her eyes and smiled bitterly as she thought of his hands on her in his kitchen and his needy little pecking kisses and the way he tasted like bubbly affection every time he saw the curve of her ass.

"He's...very sweet." Adagio said, finally. Then, she put her forehead to the table and refused to respond any further.

The sound of Adagio's nails clicking sluggishly back and forth across the keyboard was suddenly interrupted by the buzzing of her phone some few hours later. She blinked the sleep out of her eyes and checked.

Lunchtime. Her tart would be waiting for her downstairs. She looked at her paperwork. More than half done, even with her being semi-cogent. Her thoughts droned dumbly as she shuffled into the elevator. The doors closed, a little bell dinged, and exactly one and a half trips down the shaft later, Adagio stomped out of the elevator doors, then across the office. She saw Ms. Harshwhinny exiting the break room, licking her fingers.

"Oh, you're looking content today." It came out a bit like an answering machine; Adagio having shifted involuntarily into her 'customer service' voice.

"Oh, Miss Adagio! You're looking well. Would you believe it? I was down in the lobby checking if the new ink cartridge had been delivered, and someone was kind enough to anonymously treat me to a little lunch from Sugar Cube Corner! Isn't that just delightful?" Adagio's thought process crashed into a brick wall.

"Anonymously, you said?"

"Yes, Miss Vapor Trail was very insistent that it was an anonymous gift. Incredibly thoughtful, and tastefully packaged." Harshwhinny said, wiping her mouth with a handkerchief. She made an uncomfortable cough.

Even as far away from reality as Adagio was at the moment, she could detect how embarrassed the dry old harpy was for getting so excited just now.

"I see. Well, have a lovely day, then." Adagio said. She turned to head to the bathroom just as her eyes shifted to a murderous red.

Adagio took the elevator and headed to the rather barren and unused bathroom a couple of floors down.

Isolated inside the stall, she took a deep breath and counted to ten.

When she hit six, she screamed bloody murder.

It was Friday morning and nothing mattered anymore. Adagio had spent the rest of Thursday barely conscious of the world around her, stewing in the heartbreak she had drunk from Buck.

Adagio knew now the only thing to do was give him space, but for how long? If she sat on the sidelines for too long, one day Adagio would find out Buck had grown grey, and she didn't think he'd be quite as attractive to her as a geriatric.

"Are you okay?" Through the cold ocean, Adagio grabbed at a hand. When it wrenched her from her despair, she rolled her eyes and tried to let go. It was Bon Bon.

"I'm fine. What do you need?" Adagio said. She meant to recline over her desk, but her hand rested painfully at her temple instead of her cheek.

"You look terrible...is it because you and Buck are fighting?" Adagio spied a social media feed on Bon Bon's presented phone.

What she saw was a video of Buck singing to her on the trolley but from the back. The caption read 'Canterlot Power Couple Arguing?' It sounded like she and Buck were having a quiet disagreement, and in a sense that was true, but she also watched as the trolley's heads turned to the couple as Buck began to croon, then a zoom-in as Buck jerked his sleeve out of her grasp and walked off. The comments were about as vicious as expected.

"What did she do? Didn't like the song?"

"They definitely fightin"

"Whatever just give her to me lol"

"His voice is nice."

"He ugly as hell"

"So are they for real dating???"

"Not anymore lol", and it went on like that for a while. Adagio once again felt the unwelcome company of a migraine knocking on the door of her skull.

"It hasn't even been twenty four hours. How is this already viral?" Adagio groaned.

"You've been kind of down. Was he singing to cheer you up?"

"No, Bon Bon."

"So you two really are fighting?" Bon Bon gasped. "Was that a breakup song!?"

"No, Bon Bon, it wasn't. Now, why don't you--"

"Do you need relationship advice? Because I think I know a thing or two about this stuff, and I bet if you let me give you a little makeup and go to him and--"

"No...no...NO...SHUT UP!" Adagio had started at a quiet mumble, but it rose slowly until Adagio screamed at the woman. "It's none of your business who I'm seeing! I don't care what you have to say, and I'm not letting you do my makeup! If you're so concerned about my wellbeing, why don't you go and get me some coffee like a good little intern instead of babbling in my ear like a retarded parrot!"

"I'm sorry Miss Adagio." Bon Bon's tone had gone mousey, like a seven-year-old talking to their math teacher.

"Just GO!" Adagio roared. Bon Bon ran, and the rest of the office ducked their heads back down into their cubicles as Adagio looked around.

"Filthy humans..." Adagio grumbled.

"Miss Adagio Dazzle?" Said Harshwhinny's distant drawl. Adagio froze. "I'd like to see you in my office. Expediently." A door clicked shut just in time for a camera to click. Bon Bon lowered the Polaroid and disappeared into the break room.

"Let me cut straight to the heart. You are out of line, Ms. Adagio Dazzle." Come to think of it, Adagio had never been in Ms. Harshwhinny's office before. She noticed a thin layer of dust on her desk that seemed loudly out of place.

"You and I both know that your behavior out on the floor just now was unacceptable. What is your explanation?"

"Isn't it obvious that I'm exhausted from doing my own work in addition to the work of another person? Do you think it's acceptable to saddle me with the trainee on top of that, all while I'm being scandalized for sitting on the trolley with company? Or are you under the impression that I'm made of stone?" Adagio chose her words carefully, but couldn't conceal the icicles dripping from them. Harshwhinny's sour milk expression didn't shift in the slightest. She simply took out a tablet, tapped some keys, and then placed it on her desk.

"I understand. With the disappearance of our receptionist downstairs, all told this has been a costly week for our staff. I apologize if I've been a bit of a taskmaster just lately, as I understand now that I've overburdened you. I suppose I haven't been exactly fair to you this week, Miss Adagio Dazzle." Adagio barely caught the sarcastic remark that tried to charge past her lips.

"Be that as it may, we can't afford to have you explode on new team members, and so disciplinary action must be taken." Adagio rolled her eyes. This is her favorite part, isn't it?

"For your behavior on the floor today, you will take a week to recuperate. This will be paid time off, but will not cut into your amassed vacation days. You will put up a concerted effort to rest and get some much needed sleep. If you are not rested when you return, you will discuss the circumstances with me before I allow you to continue working."

"Excuse me?"

"You've served this company well, Miss Dazzle, but if you don't get proper rest you won't be any good to anyone. I would advise you to take this time to sort yourself out. Have I made myself clear?"

"And who's going to handle my accounts while I'm off sorting?"

"Myself, of course." There was a pregnant pause between the two women. Adagio took a deep breath.

"Understood. Thank you, ma'am."

"No need. I'm simply doing whatever it takes to maintain a par of professionalism in this office. Do see that you rest well, Miss Dazzle."

"Thank you, ma'am." Adagio sighed. The world was droopy and dim as Adagio settled her desk and headed off. She naturally didn't notice Bon Bon taking yet another picture of her exhausted expression as she shuffled out of the office.

It was some part of Saturday and nothing had gotten better. Adagio had desperately sniffed at Buck's pillow until her nose stung, and that wasn't enough. She had ordered room service in the form of a box full of tarts from Sugar Cube Corner and that hadn't helped either. Adagio's stomach rumbled a warning so consistently that she'd only managed about two hours of what could be generously compared to sleep.

Her throat was dry and her stomach was a howling wasteland.

It normally took longer for her to get like this, but she supposed she was spoiled. Buck had been an endless source of affection, and now Adagio was feeling the full weight of his absence. If Adagio didn't feed tonight, the hunger pangs would reduce her to delirium, and then she truly would be the most dangerous thing in Canterlot.

And so, Adagio sluggishly dressed, made her face up, and hid her hair within a hoodie. It was one of Buck's. Adagio went to one of her old haunts on the edge of the city, sat on a stool with a glass of brandy, and just waited.

In no time at all a greasy, overconfident idiot had found her. He looked like the sort that had 'peaked' during a keg stand in a fraternity and was still chasing that high.

He stank of greed and insecurity. He would have to do.

Adagio tried her best to play sweet and tease him. She wanted to seem easy and a bit desperate, and the moron took it hook line and sinker. Adagio asked him if he'd be kind enough to drive her home, and the man agreed with a disgusting condition.

Now Adagio was in a dingy back alley again, and once again she had some filthy human's grubby hands on her. Old habits die hard, said a cackling voice in the back of her head.

"You think a little girl like you can take what I got for you?" His breath stank of crackers and cheap beer next to her face. She refused to look into his eyes.

"I'll...I'll try..." Adagio said in her best attempt at a barely legal voice. The man's hand was under her shirt, groping clumsily.

"What was that?" He growled. His hand yanked out and grabbed her roughly by the throat.

"I'll try, sir." Adagio coughed.

"There's a good little girl. You're shakin', there? Did big daddy scare you?" Adagio couldn't stop shaking with rage and indignity. His lust and greed were a stale, greasy sandwich that was more bacon than anything else.

"Please don't hurt me, sir..."

"Hurt ya? Oh no, big daddy's gonna treat you nice...if you treat him nice. Now why're you lookin' away?" He sniffed at her hair.

"It's been a long week, sir. I'm...tired."

"Yeah...me too. I've had a real long week, alright. Long and pent up. Why don't you help me unwind?" He growled.

"Unwind, sir?" His hand grabbed artlessly at her hair and yanked her down to crotch height.

"Go on. It won't bite." It was more like a horse barking than a chuckle. Adagio drifted a bit and nearly faded, but she caught herself. It had been so long. She had earned this.

Adagio wordlessly unwrapped the imbecile and managed to be offended in just about every way. The presence of it snapped her back into wakefulness, but with a tool very inappropriate for fairy tales. She had acquired a horrible clarity. Her eyes widened and she realized the situation. She assessed. She shrugged. The alleyway was dark enough to conceal the subtle changes.

Red eyes always came first, then the gills, then the smile, then the voice. He couldn't see her properly through the alcohol and the entitlement.

"Well? What're you waiting for, Babe?"

"YOU DON'T GET TO USE THAT NAME!" It was the whistling howl of the ocean through a tiny cave. Adagio's teeth became long, daggerlike, and serrated. Two more rows of them rippled along the inside of Adagio's distended maw, a bit more eel than shark. The man was half to a scream when his breath exploded out of him in a cry of agony. Adagio's arm reached much too far to slam a webbed claw into his face and the wall into the back of his head. Adagio twisted her neck roughly like an alligator's roll and a squelching snap ripped through the alley. Coward's blood trailed down her chin. She had almost forgotten the taste.

"I forgive you." The man's wailing cry was his only answer. It was a busy night; no one would hear. Was it raining? Adagio was wet.

"You offended me. Your scent was like turpentine and grease, but now it's like blood and fear. Two of my favorites."

"H-H-H-" The man shuddered.

"Fear? Fear. Now? Of course. This is where they learn fear. Every time. You men are all the same." Adagio's voice trilled and laughed. Her vision hazed with green.

"H-HEEEELP! HEEEE-" The man suddenly seemed to have lost his voice. Adagio had forgotten that spell. The man's panic rose as he realized that Adagio was holding what he assumed was his voice between her fingers. It was a tiny mote of light, wriggling between her fingers like a worm on a hook.

The fool reached for something up over her shoulder. Hope. for just a moment. Adagio looked up and back and saw nothing and no one. The barracuda smile widened.

The thing that was Adagio smiled down at the toy and then swallowed its voice like a fresh grape. She prowled toward him with the murderous grace of a house cat spotting a fly.

"I put a spell on you...and now you're miiiine~" The man's eyelids fluttered and his silently screaming face grew just a bit slack. Far too much of his blood was on the asphalt.

"You can't STOP the things I DO!

I ain't lyiiiin~"

She punctuated her sensuous song with her claws raking through the man's chest. She licked at the blood around her lips.

"Show me your fear!" It squealed in the man's face, teeth flashing, voice warbling and trilling. The man's salty fear surged into the monster's throat like a glowing jet of boiling blood. It drank deeply and felt its fins unfurl, its ears perk up. It was pure satisfaction.

She could never let herself get so thirsty again. How could she forget the purpose of humans? How could she let herself get so desperate and so empty when fools waiting to be drank buzzed like flies around her head?

She stumbled to her feet and finally felt Adagio Dazzle return.

Suddenly, her wrist smacked painfully backward into the bricks.

Adagio wrenched at her arm and saw a head-sized wad of greenish slime had pasted her to the wall. Another snapped her left foot back, sticking it tight as well.

Adagio's eyes blinked quickly and looked around the alley at top speed, her nose fought past her own fear in order to sense the intentions of someone nearby.

A confusion of emotions surrounded her. Dying fear, confusion, glee. Glee? Above her.

"Who are you!?" Adagio shouted.

There was nothing, briefly. Then a sound like crickets chirping, which contorted unnaturally
into something resembling laughter.

Adagio shrieked as a lanky form descended from the rooftop, emerald eyes blazing. Her scream ceased.

And then there was silence.

Author's Note

Song Review: Workhorse by Mastodon is a head-banging classic that has a concise anti-capitalist message. It compares work to slavery and bemoans that we work our fingers to the bone in order to live in a world of man's creation. The banal grind of the working week compounds whatever turmoil you're going through and forces you to succumb to numbness as you toil to afford the basic right to exist.
Have you ever had to go to work while suffering from some nightmarish emotional fallout? That's what this chapter is about.
I tried to make Adagio's workday something like an episode of Aggretsuko but without the fun. She's suffering in office purgatory, and without proper nourishment, her keen perceptive qualities fall by the wayside. She grasps at any modicum of joy she can find, and her composure crumbles as she begins to emotionally starve.
Buck, on the other hand, falls back into the drudgery he was slogging through at the beginning of the story, but now with the context of having found a potential love that deceived him, his typical angst drags him into a depressive downswing that he tries to solve with distractions and substances.
This is our emotional low point, and our main characters are in their most vulnerable position yet. This chapter, like Workhorse, is something of a long, drawn-out wail.