The muffled sound of hooves on the pavement outside beat a rhythm in Rarity’s head that was simultaneously faint and ear-splitting. A rustle beside her and the chill of cold air on dried sweat assailed her as somepony next to her in an unfamiliar bed kicked a blanket's sweaty warmth halfway off her body. She let out a pitiable groan again, finding herself in this situation. As much as she wished to return to the alcohol-induced dreamless sleep, she knew from experience that it was better to gather her bearings before the situation could turn into her usual sort of predicament; An awkward ghosting, a walk of shame, and a humiliating grilling from a one-night stand’s friends or family were all things that could be avoided with quick thinking.

Now, if only she could make herself think. As Rarity’s consciousness returned, she was pleased to find that she was no worse for wear than the last time this sort of thing happened. Trying to remember the previous night was painful enough that it caused her dull headache to gain a sharp edge. She decided it would probably be less agonizing to simply open her eyes and see where she was. A ripple of pain stung behind her eyes at the sight of artificial lighting in a small room. She flinched and slammed her eyelids shut again before she could process what she saw. The rapid changes in perspective threw off her equilibrium, sending her tumbling off the side of the bed.

A small chuckle came from a doorway in which stood a familiar mare with no name that Rarity had attached to the memory of her. “I haven’t seen anypony wake up like that in a while, although I imagine that many do so after spending an evening here.” The mare turned to walk out of the room before continuing, “I made coffee. I had a feeling you two could use some after last night.”

Deciding to embrace the pain, Rarity, with great reluctance, opened her eyes once more. It was a simple room with walls papered in a pastel green adorned with colorful citrus fruit patterns. Rarity and her bedmate were sharing a faux antique queen-sized bed dressed in plain yellow sheets. A couple of birchwood dressers were the only other furnishings. She concluded that the room’s theme was South Marreibean, although there was little commitment to it. A ceiling fan would likely help tie the room together.

Supporting her body against the bed, Rarity forced herself to stand on her four tired legs. She paused to stare at the still-snoring mound bundled in the blankets. “Oh, dear, who was I with last night?” her sluggish brain pondered aloud. Her hangover fought her attempt to remember, but she managed to push through its throbbing objections. “I left that awful bar with—oh stars—Twilight.” Not only was Twilight un-ghostable, being one of her best friends, but she was currently in the city where Twilight’s family lived and could definitely give Rarity the third degree. “Twilight, get up at once,” Rarity stage-whispered. She jostled the sleeping mare, causing the blanket to slide down from her head. The unfamiliar blue-and-grey mane that emerged from beneath the covers was another mystery to her hungover mind. Still, Rarity was nonetheless relieved not to find Twilight beside her.

The blue mess of a unicorn didn’t seem bothered by Rarity's attempts to wake her. Sleepily, she scratched her ear before making a lazy effort to pull the blanket back over her head. Her appearance stirred no memories in Rarity’s mind despite her uncomfortable attempts to recall the sleeping mare.

In a subdued tone meant to be unheard, Rarity said to the completely unaware pony, “Well, Miss Whoever-you-are, as magical as I’m sure last night was, alas, I’ll be returning to my hometown soon and won’t be able to pursue any kind of romantic affair. I think you would agree that it would be less unpleasant for both of us if I weren’t here when you wake up.”

Rarity slipped out through the open door and made her way down the hallway to find the familiar mare who had offered her coffee. Passing the door that led to the kitchen, Rarity found the pony she was looking for, casually reading through a copy of The Canterlot Gazette by hoof while levitating a nearby cup of coffee to her mouth. The sight of the mare levitating a cup jogged a flash of memory about flying glasses filled with colorful beverages. Although the aroma of freshly brewed coffee was enticing, unraveling the mystery of the lost evening held an even greater allure. “Pardon me, Miss…"

“Tropicana,” she replied, taking a small sip from her floating cup. She looked around her paper at Rarity. “There’s about half a pot left if you want any.”

That face, that magic, those cups- the bartender! Rarity found herself at a bar that she and Twilight had stumbled into the night before. The thought that she could have been here more than one night crossed her mind, but a quick glance at the date on the newspaper confirmed it was, in fact, the morning after her and Twilight’s excursion. Had she passed out before or after getting into bed with the blue pony in the other room? Ugh! The hazy pain of her hangover was making it hard to think. And where’s Twilight?

Softly, to avoid aggravating her throbbing head, Rarity asked from the doorway, “Miss Tropicana, I don’t want to impose further on your hospitality, but would you be so kind as to tell me what happened last night? I seem to be missing a few memories, as well as one of my friends.” Not wanting to make Tropicana speak any louder than necessary, Rarity moved to an empty chair at the end of the table opposite Tropicana and took a seat.

“Well, sugar, why don’t you share what you remember, and then I’ll fill in the blanks?” Tropicana said as she placed her cup on the table and folded her newspaper.

“Well, as I recall, early last evening, my friends and I decided to have a ‘night on the town’ as it were,’” Rarity began. She paused, coaxing herself to recall the events of the night before. “We had been directed to an establishment that quickly proved to be entirely unacceptable. I and a dear friend of mine—a unicorn by the name of Twilight Sparkle who has her mane styled into bangs—followed some lights…” Rarity squinted, trying to solidify the vague memory of flashing neon. “to this quaint little bar where I’m fairly certain we first encountered you. I’m afraid that what happened afterward isn’t entirely clear to me right now.”

“I don’t know what happened before you two walked into my place, but the rest of the night went something like this,” Tropicana paused to take another sip of fragrant coffee before continuing, “You and a purple unicorn—Twilight Sparkle, I assume—were already buzzed when you showed up at the bar, bumping into things and almost slipping off your stools.”

Rarity tensed at the thought of who in Canterlot might have seen her in such a state.

“After you both settled in, a pink mare who had been drinking with a group of friends sat down next to her and began chatting her up about…” Tropicana let out a bemused but dainty snort. “...cherries, doughnuts, and other things that were silly, even for drunken rambling.”

‘That definitely sounds like Pinkie Pie, but I would think I’d remember her being with us. She’s really hard to forget.’

Tropicana swirled a forehoof in the air. “At first, I thought they didn’t know each other, but the way they seemed to understand each other’s nonsense I wasn’t sure. Anyway, after a while, the pink one spirited your marefriend away into the night.”

Rarity’s tired eyes blinked open wide. “My marefriend? Surely, you don’t mean Twilight? Oh no, no, no, no!” Rarity shook her head, exacerbating its throbbing. “She and I are quite close, but wherever would you get the idea that we were involved, so to speak?” With a pitiable whine, she worked the muscles in her temples with her hooves.

“You two walked into a mares-only bar on each other’s hips, and I just assumed.” Tropicana hummed. “Usually I am better at spotting couples. Up until she walked out on you, I had thought you two had a certain chemistry. Has anypony ever told you that before?” Her grin was playful but sincere.

Rarity continued to massage her head, her eyes rolling in their sockets. “Only some ancient gems that transform into jewelry and create magical rainbows capable of vanquishing evil gods. A story for another time, perhaps.” Tropicana’s non-committal nod in response suggested just how accustomed she must be to hearing such outlandish tales.

Another fact that she had picked up from the bartender’s story piqued Rarity’s interest. So, this is a mares-only bar, is it? That might explain my choice in bedmates. As she contemplated how to ask her next question, Rarity levitated a mug from the counter and poured herself twelve ounces of bitter energy from Tropicana’s coffee pot. “And how, may I ask, did I come to know the undoubtedly charming unicorn in the back room?”

“You never did,” Tropicana said, her shoulders shaking with suppressed laughter. “You begged me to let that little blue straight girl back there sleep it off here, and then when you passed out too, I levitated both of you to my backroom apartment.” She rubbed her horn as she finished, “I gotta say, my horn still feels sore. I’m not used to lifting anything heavier than a fifth.”

A grin of relief curved Rarity’s lips as she took her first sip of decadent black coffee. No walk of shame, no embarrassing chance encounters later, and no worries about being recognized after a sloppy, drunken make-out session in a bar. ‘There is absolutely nothing at all to worry about.’ Her inner sleuth protested, Except for what became of Twilight.

“Miss Tropicana,” Rarity said, leaning over the table, “you mentioned that you saw Twilight leave with a pink mare. Was she an earth pony with a curly mane, three balloons for a cutie mark, and an, shall we say, outgoing demeanor?”

Tropicana gave Rarity a surprised look, “Oh, you know her? Mm hmm, she was an earth pony with a curly mane and an,” she giggled, “outgoing personality. I didn’t catch a glimpse of her flanks, though. I try not to check out the customers' butts unless they’re especially cute, Miss Diamonds.”

“Please, call me—oh!” Rarity bounced in her seat, flushing red as the implication finally registered in her hungover brain. She leveled the squinting frown she often directed at Sweetie Belle at Tropicana.

Tropicana raised a foreleg as if swearing an oath. “I only noticed when I had to lift you off the bar stool you fell asleep on.”

Rarity’s frown softened into an askance disapproving glare. “I suppose that couldn’t be avoided.” She sipped her coffee, and the warm succor melted away her suspicion of the surely angelic creature who had offered it to her. “And I further suppose that a little peek can be forgiven in light of your most gracious hospitality.” She took another draw.

“My, how generous,” Tropicana teased over her mug, savoring the aroma and not deigning to match Rarity’s faster pace of caffeine consumption.

“So they tell me,” Rarity said, finishing her drink with an action too hasty to be called a proper sip. “Unfortunately, while I truly enjoy your company, Miss Tropicana, I fear it would be terribly unkind of me to leave Twilight and Pinkie Pie unaccounted for.”

Tropicana nodded and gazed into her cup before taking a sip from it.

Rarity continued as she stood up from her chair, “Honestly, I don’t know which of the two I should be more concerned about. Why, they might be in the castle dungeon right now after some absurd meringue experiment of theirs went horribly wrong.”

“I hardly know them, and I think that sounds like them,” Tropicana said with a wistful laugh.

Rarity trotted to the doorway and stopped to turn profile and say, “Thank you again, Miss Tropicana, and if you are ever in Ponyville—that’s my home town—do drop in at the Carousel Boutique.”

As Rarity was about to leave down the hall, Tropicana called, “I never did get your name, cutie.”

“I am Rarity,” she offered, bending her knees ceremonially. “But you may call me Miss Diamonds,” she breathed more than said, delivering a sideways thrust of her bejeweled hip toward Tropicana.

“Hey,” croaked an unfamiliar voice behind Rarity, causing her to rear up in surprise with a wah-ha-hah and skitter down the hallway like a frilled lizard. “Watch where you’re pointing that thing.” Colgate shuffled into the now-abandoned doorway with a low chuckle that turned into a pained wince at the sound of her own voice.

“Well, good morning, sleepyhead,” Tropicana sing-songed before taking a leisurely sip of her coffee.

“Not really,” Colgate replied. Upon entering the room, she squinted against the kitchen's artificial lighting. The irresistible scent of fresh coffee lured her to the table without her needing to look up. She inhaled deeply, savoring the aroma, and refilled the cup that Rarity had been using. “But it’s already getting better.”

~~

Cadance and Shining Armor spent most of their walk to the castle lost in thought, distracted only by the sounds of conversations from the crowd of pedestrians on the busy thoroughfare. Finally, Cadance voiced her thoughts. “So, how long do you think it will be before we attend their wedding?” she asked as she noticed two stallions who appeared to be on a date at an outdoor café they passed.

“Huh? Who’s getting married?” Shining replied, tilting his head toward his wife and raising an eyebrow. The worry that he might have forgotten about an upcoming wedding—always a sensitive subject with his wife—gnawed at him.

Cadance chuckled at her husband's reaction before responding, “No pony officially just yet. Your bet last night, along with the fact that Twilight brought a mare home when she was supposed to be out with her friends, has me thinking.”

“Oh no, you’re not doing this, are you?” Shining replied, rolling his eyes. “They couldn’t have been any clearer about not being into each other. Besides, wouldn’t Fluttershy have mentioned it if Twilight had a special somepony? She doesn’t seem like the type to hide something like that.”

Cadance pressed into Shining Armor’s side as she pressed her point. She spoke in a low, conspiratorial tone, “Maybe Fluttershy doesn’t know. You know how Twilight likes to keep anything that embarrasses her quiet.”

“Well, you’re not wrong about that,” Shining conceded, though he still cast a skeptical sideways glance at Cadance.

“And do you really buy their story? I mean, they both know each other from Ponyville, yet they just happened to run into each other here in the big city at a bar completely by chance?” Cadance narrowed her eyes and focused her thoughts on the topic of conversation. “Then, at the end of the night, they stumbled hoof-in-hoof back to your parents’ place when Twilight knew they wouldn’t be home. The more I consider it, the more Twilight’s little adventure sounds like a romantic rendezvous away from the prying eyes of her small-town neighbors.” The smirk on Shining Armor’s face told her that she was losing him. “Don’t you find it suspicious that she would leave her friends behind to get doughnuts with Cheerilee unless that was her plan all along? Twilight makes plans, Shining. She doesn’t just run off without thinking.”

Shining Armor’s cheek twitched, and his gaze shifted away from Cadance to the bustling sidewalk in front of him. He tilted his head to one side and thought for a moment before adding, “Unless she’s completely blitzed like she was last night.”

“Okay, but she only got drunk after arriving in Canterlot. Remember that Fluttershy said Twilight hasn’t had any close stallions since moving to Ponyville. Maybe Fluttershy’s expectations caused her to overlook what was right in front of her,” Cadance insisted with a sly grin. “Besides, you can’t tell me that a young mare with her own place, far from her parents for the first time, wouldn’t do some experimenting. Experimentation is Twilight’s thing, after all,” Cadance giggled.

“Honey, even if you’re right, we really shouldn’t involve ourselves in Twilight’s business-” Shining began, just as a voice called out to them from behind.

“Are we talking about Twilight?” Rarity cantered up to them with a spirited gait from the fenced-off outdoor dining area of a busy coffee shop. She was levitating alongside herself a twelve-ounce cappuccino topped with a generous dollop of frothed fat-free milk, sprinkled with raw cane sugar and dusted with powdered cinnamon. Her practiced magic kept the disposable cup so steady that it seemed to glide on an invisible conveyor belt. “Do pardon the interruption, but I was just searching for our dear Twilight. After getting sufficiently caffeinated to keep me focused through this dreadful hangover, of course.”

Shining Armor noticed a weariness in her eyes, but he had been in a close relationship with a mare long enough to know better than to comment on it. “Oh, uh, hi, Rarity. Cadance and I were just talking about Twilight and her maref-” he began to say before his wife interrupted him.

“We were discussing Twilight and her migraine from last night, weren’t we, dear?” Cadance interjected, accompanied by a glare that could make even her Aunt flinch.

“A ‘migraine,’ hm?” Rarity’s expression remained neutral as her eyes flicked between Shining Armor and Cadance. Her lips formed a polite smile as she continued, “I might borrow that little euphemism to describe my own condition today. If you’ve already seen Twilight this morning, then perhaps you both could ease my mind,” she said, focusing her gaze directly on Shining Armor. “Was Pinkie Pie with Twilight when she arrived at your parents’ place? We got separated at some point, and I worry I’m still at a loss as to how that happened.” Rarity’s smile was benign, but her tired eyes looked at him like an old tomcat waiting outside a mouse hole.

“N-no, Pinkie Pie wasn’t with them,” Shining replied. Cadance stared wide-eyed at her husband, barely restraining herself from rebuking his mistake.

After a beat, Rarity responded, “Them?” Her tone conveyed innocent curiosity, and her expression betrayed no other motive behind the question.

Cadance bit her lip, and Shining Armor thought fast. “You know, Twilight and her enormous headache,” he chuckled as earnestly as he could manage.

Rarity laughed along with him, her eyes knitted shut as if she were enduring the discomfort of her own hangover. “Oh, I’m afraid mine is as big as a pony too, and a rather unpleasant pony at that,” she said, allowing Shining Armor his thin illusion. “But did Twilight tell you where she had been?”

“I’m afraid she didn’t get the chance,” Cadance said, taking over her husband’s part in the conversation. “She passed out before she made it in the door, and the poor thing hasn’t been able to remember anything from last night.”

“I confess that I am having similar memory issues this morning, which is why I’m asking so many questions,” Rarity said as the trio rounded the street onto the main street leading directly to the castle gate. “I do hope that I am not bothering the two of you.”

“Not at all,” Cadance said with a smile that held just a hint of tension in the corners of her eyes. “We’re glad to help.”

“For that, I am most grateful,” Rarity said with genuine affection as they trotted through the arched castle gate, which had likely not been closed in centuries. The silent guards on either side stood at attention for the junior princess. Their walk to the base of the staircase at the foot of the palace passed in silence, apart from their hooffalls on the stone floor and the delicate sips that Rarity would occasionally take from her paper cup of a coffee-like beverage.

As they ascended the steps, Rarity cast a surreptitious glance at the married couple and paused for a moment. At the top landing, she stopped and asked, “Perhaps you could help me with something else. As I’m sure you know, Twilight can be quite reserved when it comes to her personal life. Now, I won’t claim to be a gossip, but I do take pride in keeping my ear to the ground, as they say. Do you have any fun stories about Twilight that I might not have heard yet?” She took a long sip of her cappuccino and waited with bated breath for the couple’s response.

Cadance was taken aback for a moment by the sudden directness and impropriety of Rarity’s question. Shining Armor, however, immediately preferred this to the dance they had been doing. “Sorry, Rarity,” he chuckled. “The Light siblings have a strict “no snitching’ rule.”

Far from being crestfallen as Shining Armor had expected, Rarity’s grin blossomed, the weariness fading from her eyes. “Of course, Darling, I completely understand. I have a little sister myself, you know. I shall simply have to ask Twilight and hope she's in a mood to share.”

“She’ll probably be in the West Wing with her other friends,” Cadance said, guiding Shining toward the East Wing. “But Shining and I still have some paperwork to complete, so we’ll see you later.”

“Oh, dear,” Rarity said with a sympathetic frown that did not erase the excitement written on her face. “You have my condolences. I’ll see you when you’re finished then.” Rarity wheeled about with a “ta-ta” and trotted westward down the main hall.

“Why do I feel like I’ve just been mugged?” Shining Armor asked his wife once they were out of Rarity’s earshot.

Cadance walked on, eyes forward. “Remind me not to entrust you with any crown secrets, Dear.”

In the two weeks since she had been staying at the castle, Rarity had developed more than a passing familiarity with its layout. During this trip she spared no thought to the stylized columns, the towering tapestries, or the elegant abstract sculptures of The Princess that adorned the West Wing hall. Her mind was completely occupied with what she had recently learned.

‘So, Twilight has a secret, and it must be a juicy one if she has her brother sworn to silence about it,’ Rarity thought as she walked between a pair of guards on patrol in their shiny ceremonial armor. ‘While we mustn’t jump to conclusions, it might very well be in regard to what Twilight did last night after we parted company. Now, what could Twilight have gotten up to?’

As a reflex, Rarity turned down the corridor that led to the suites where she and her friends had been staying in the palace. Rarity continued to deduce as she trotted on, her mind barely registering that no noise came from the rooms she passed. ‘It would be quite unlike Twilight to engage in any sort of criminal mischief. She is far too devoted to She-Who-Makes-the-Law to ever break it, not to mention that Twilight is as conscientious as any pony I know. In her inebriated state, could she have-’

Rarity was drawn out of her thoughts by the sight of the last door in the corridor—the one that opened into the suite where Rainbow Dash was staying—slightly ajar. Rainbow Dash wasn't her usual go-to friend for gossip, but the direct and frank aerobat made a marvelous sounding board for bouncing ideas off. Rarity trotted toward the open door, thinking, ‘No, the secret is almost certainly not of an incriminating nature, especially considering the light tone in which dear Shining Armor mentioned it. It's embarrassing then, something that an older sibling might find amusing.’

She peeked into the room and sing-songed, “Yoo-hoo, Rainbow Dash?” She nudged the door open to reveal a laundry cart standing in the middle of the high-ceilinged, sunlit front room of the suite. Out of the adjoining bathroom, carrying a stack of wet towels on her back, stepped not Rainbow Dash but a chambermaid. Rarity felt a pang of sympathy for her rumpled Maresian-style uniform, which had been worn for too long that day. She had to suppress the urge to offer the maid a makeover when she noticed the tired look in her eyes and the several strands of black hair that had come loose from her bun.

The maid gave Rarity a quick and shallow curtsy that nearly caused the towels to slide off her back. “Good morning, Miss,” the girl said. Rarity always appreciated the touch of class that the castle’s staff consistently provided, and this particular maid, with the black-and-white colors of her uniform and her coat and mane, reminded Rarity of an old photograph depicting a scene from a glamorous hotel.

“Good morning,” Rarity replied with a smile that masked her aching head. “Would you happen to know where I can find the other guests staying in this wing? Here, let me help.” Despite her hangover, Rarity’s magic was skilled enough to float the towels from the maid’s back to the hamper on the cart, easing the burden for both the weary servant and her tired dress.

“Thank you, Miss,” the chambermaid replied with a nod. “Her Majesty, Princess Luna, is currently entertaining several guests in the servants’ mess hall in the West Wing. Would you like me to take you there?”

“Please, I would be most grateful,” Rarity said, stepping back into the corridor to clear the way for the maid.

Leaving her cart in Rainbow Dash’s room, the maid walked to the door and past Rarity into the corridor. Her weary legs told the tale of a night spent cleaning, dusting, and bed-making. None the less, she seemed eager to go. “This way, Miss.”

Rarity trailed behind the maid to let her set her own pace, recognizing that this walk served as a late break for her. ‘None know the happenings in a home better than the help does, they say. Perhaps the maid knows something, and she would surely welcome a chat.’ “Perhaps you could also assist me with another matter,” Rarity said to the ear that the maid had turned in her direction. “Last night, my friends and I went out for an evening on the town. For reasons that escape me at the moment, Miss Twilight Sparkle and another pony,” Maybe Pinkie Pie, maybe not, Rarity thought, “left the bar we were patronizing and went to her old home in town, and I haven’t seen them since.” Rarity noticed that both of the maid’s ears were now pointed toward her. “Um, you’ve been awake for a while, I assume. Might you know what happened to them?”

An undignified noise met Rarity’s ears. It had been quiet, but she was sure she heard it. The maid had snorted—it was the kind of snort that rises involuntarily when somepony fails to stifle a laugh in time.

“No, Miss, I’m sorry,” she replied. From her position in the maid’s wake, Rarity could see the twitch of a smile at the corner of her lips as she spoke.

“But you have an idea, an amusing one. Tell me, darling, what were you thinking?” Rarity pressed, leveling her piercing eyes at the maid.

Worried that she had overstepped, the maid stopped in her tracks and made the mistake of looking Rarity in the eyes. “N-nothing, Miss,” she said, her voice slightly louder than before. “I don’t know your friend, and I didn’t mean to imply anything.”

“Suggest what, dear?” Rarity asked in a calm but pointed tone.

“Nothing—that is,” she stammered. As Rarity waited, the maid took a breath. “I used to work at a hotel,” she said at length, “and when a pony meets another pony at the bar and takes him back to her room, it’s usually because they’re going to…” She trailed off at the sight of Rarity’s eyes dilating and her jaw going slack.

“Of course,” Rarity exclaimed. “Why, that would explain everything!”

The maid breathed a sigh of relief and slumped, the weariness in her posture returning.

Rarity continued, “How did I not think of this before? It must be this blasted ha- um, migraine. Ohhh,” she danced in place on the tips of her hooves, “it’s wonderful to think that Twilight is finally allowing herself to pursue amour.” Her dancing came to an abrupt halt. “If that is indeed what happened, we mustn’t get ahead of ourselves,” she finished with her nose in the air.

“Of course not, Miss,” the maid humored her eccentric guest.

Rarity smiled. “I am truly grateful for the insight, Miss…”

“Turn Down, Miss,” the maid said with a polite nod.

“Turn Down, you may call me Rarity. Now, let us off to the servants’ mess. If Twilight and Pinkie Pie are there, we can get the rest of the story straight from the horse’s mouth, as they say.” Rarity began trotting in the direction they had been walking, and Turn Down ran after her to regain the lead.

~~

Rarity and Turn Down stood before a plain set of double doors made of pine—the entrance to the servants’ mess hall in the West Wing. A muffled yet boisterous female voice echoed from beyond the doors. Rarity turned to her companion and asked, “Are you sure you wouldn't like to join me and see this mystery unfold? You’re more than welcome.”

“I apologize, Miss Rarity,” the maid responded. “It’s been a very long night, and I need to finish with the suites before I can retire for the day. I’m on night shift again tomorrow, and I need to be rested.”

“Of course, darling, I understand completely,” Rarity said with a nod.

Turn Down curtsied with a “Good day, Miss," and turned to leave. Rarity called after her, “If we happen to meet again tomorrow, I'll share the whole story.” This earned her a brief but genuine smile from the retreating maid, who soon rounded the corner to the main hall.

At the door, Rarity mentally prepared herself for Pinkie Pie’s inevitable well-meaning but likely overwhelming cheerfulness. Exhaling, she pushed her hoof against the door in front of her, her mind still too hazy to focus her magic on more than the now lukewarm cappuccino she still held in her telekinetic grasp. As she pushed into the dining room, the animated voice of Pinkie Pie grew clearer and, to the dismay of Rarity’s throbbing head, louder. Every friend group has one pony who is immune to hangovers, and, naturally, that pony in our group could only be Pinkie Pie.

“Then I said, ‘I call it, The Aristocrats!’” Pinkie finished the joke that she had been telling to a pair of groans.

“Ugh, seriously, Pinkie? It’s, like, noon-thirty, and having to deal with your- your Pinkiness and a headache the size of Equestria at the same time is not cool.” Rainbow Dash held her hooves against her flattened ears and rested her chin on the table.

Pinkie Pie stared at Rainbow Dash and deadpanned. “Haven’t you ever heard of the healing power of laughter?” Rainbow Dash just rolled her eyes, which Pinkie hardly seemed to notice. “Well, have no fear, ‘cause Nurse Pinkie Pie is here to help you feel better,” Pinkie declared with a slam of her hoof on the table for emphasis, causing both Rainbow Dash and Applejack to wince in pain.

“Sorry to burst your bubble, sugarcube, but there ain’t no proper treatment fer a hangover but time,” Applejack offered with a kind but pained half-smile.

Looking past the far end of the long table and bench where Rainbow Dash, Applejack, and a now-disappointed Pinkie Pie were sitting, Rarity noticed only two other ponies—Fluttershy, who was clapping her hooves in applause, and Princess Luna, who was conjuring a revolting shadow illusion to accompany her retelling of the gruesome aftermath of some dreadful battle or another. Rarity cleared her throat to capture the room's attention before speaking, “Good morning, my fellow sufferers—well, as good as can be expected, anyway. Is Twilight about? Surely she accompanied Pinkie here?”

Pinkie Pie shook her head with a sound that reminded Rarity of Mooriella’s bell. “Twilight’s not here, and neither is Shirley. Last night,” Pinkie explained while climbing onto the table to boop Rarity on the nose, “you and Twilight left because I think somepony was making you all—grrr,” Pinkie growled, gnashing her teeth. “I only took these two with me last night after they got way too partied out.” Pinkie illustrated her claim by lifting Applejack and Rainbow Dash’s weary heads off the table—one under each foreleg—and presenting their faces to Rarity.

“She speaks true,” Princess Luna declared from the far head of the table, the gruesome image in front of her transformed into a child-friendly depiction of an alligator brushing its teeth. “Fluttershy and I did pass much of the morning by endeavoring to instruct Pinkie Pie in the art of reptile dental hygiene.”

“I’m afraid we’re too late to help Gummy,” Fluttershy said with a guilty frown, “but it never hurts to learn such an important skill.”

‘So, Shining Armor was telling the truth. Pinkie Pie really never was with Twilight,’ Rarity ruminated. ‘If Twilight did indeed leave the bar with a, um, partner last night, then that partner is a complete stranger. Of course, I trust Pinkie Pie to not take advantage of Twilight in her condition, but who knows what dastardly deeds some brutish barfly might have inflicted upon poor, innocent, sloshed Twilight?’ “Oh dear. I hope that Twilight, wherever she is, is alright,” Rarity stated, only to notice, to her great confusion, that Pinkie had managed to pilfer Rarity’s cup of cappuccino from her still-glowing aura and was just then slamming its sugary, caffeinated goodness down her throat. So baffled was Rarity that she failed to notice the double doors swinging open to admit Twilight Sparkle.

“Is everypony talking about me?” a clean but weary Twilight asked as she trotted into the mess hall with a stack of three pink cardboard boxes balanced on her back. “I brought doughnuts in case anypony is hungry,” she added with a backward nod of her head toward her load.

Author's Note

It's been forever. Sorry for the wait, guys; I've been busy bouncing from job to job and dealing with other personal things. Mainly my grandpa's death and the drama that came with it due to old family drama being dug up and new drama starting when it came to his funeral and belongings. I hope to get the next chapter out sometime within the month, but we'll see.

I've also started posting on A03 under the same name; I've been writing some persona stuff on that account, so if you like the series, go check it out.

Hopefully, updates will be more regularly scheduled from here on out.