Variations on a Theme of Sentry
Flash Sentry had not joined the Royal Guard for the excitement.
Those who did sign up for excitement were treated warily, because they were often the sorts of ponies who defined “excitement” as “thrusting a spear into the body of another living, thinking being” and thus needed to be handled with care. Most got drummed out during basic training, while the rest got night watches until they gave up any hope of crazed yetis or cutlass-swinging harpies charging down one of Castle Canterlot’s more remote hallways.
Flash had joined on because he appreciated the safety of Equestria and understood that to maintain that safety, some ponies had to put themselves into unsafe conditions. That was the meaning behind his cutie mark, after all. He was a shield who took blows so nopony else had to. After that fateful hoofball game, it was either that or stay on the offensive line, and Coach had always told him he’d had more of a dancer’s build.
It was a good thing he’d listened. Almost from the moment Flash had gotten his helmet, the nation had faced one crisis after another. And yes, the central issue was often resolved by Twilight Sparkle and her friends, but somepony had to keep the populace from breaking down into blind panic in the meantime, to say nothing of cleaning up anything the rainbow beam of coherent friendship might have missed.
That wasn’t to say that Flash resented the Bearers. Just the opposite; he admired their willingness to charge down danger’s throat and make it choke. The only issue was how a chance meeting in the halls of the Crystal Castle had gotten him transferred back to Canterlot by a certain big brother and left him at a post in front of the city library for the next few years.
The downside to keeping out the stabbers, Flash reflected in the middle of a typical shift, was that everypony left was at least a little overprotective. And that only got stronger as one went up the chain of command and had that many more ponies to protect. The consequences of being seen as flirting with the captain’s little sister were clear in hindsight. Such was li—
“Flash?”
Flash blinked. He didn’t adjust his grip on his spear, because the right reaction to somepony who knew him on a first-name basis wasn’t trying to stab them, and he’d long since learned the art of letting his foreleg stay at attention while his mind wandered. Instead, he looked up at the source of the voice and…
A year ago, he wouldn’t have known what to do. Now, the protocol for unfamiliar species wasn’t just established but already well-worn in his mind. “Greetings, sir, madam, or esteemed nonbinary individual," he recited. "The Canterlot Archives are currently open to all. Please avoid the use of open flames, corrosive fumes, or other potential sources of harm to the books while inside.”
The mostly hairless biped blinked back at him. “Okay, that’s… better than the reaction I usually get in Equestria.”
The usual protocols about stoic motionlessness while on duty had also been relaxed, but this was the first time anycreature had ever given Flash an excuse to make use of that. “Ever since Princess Twilight began her reign, we’ve been getting all kinds. I recommend you watch your head while inside; other bipeds have found pony architecture doesn't take their dimensions into account.”
Reading the expressions of new species was always tricky, especially one with such immobile ears. But the stranger still clearly drooped at the mention of Princess Twilight. “No, no, I’m… just passing through,” they said, looking away.
Flash frowned. There was no sign of fear or hatred or anything else that might merit further investigation in their tone, just... sadness. “Is everything alright, sir, madam, or—?”
“‘Miss’ is fine." That did line up with the biped's skirt, but Flash hadn't wanted to assume. "And… it’s complicated." She offered a smile, even if it didn't seem to reach her eyes. "But thanks, Flash.”
He nodded, even as something nagged at the back of his mind. “We’re here to serve, miss.”
That got a humorless laugh out of her. “Yeah. I know.”
Flash blinked as he identified the odd element. “Miss, how did you know my—“
But she had already turned away, walking into the afternoon hoof traffic. Flash quickly lost track of her in the hubbub.
He shrugged his wings and went back to attention. This was Canterlot, after all. He'd had stranger encounters even before Princess Twilight had taken the throne.
Still, he had to wonder if every member of that species had eyes like that.
So it was in the seventeenth year of the Century of the Aurochs that Lord Rockfist of Surtenbrig fell gravely ill, his vaunted strength no use in this latest battle for his life. As apothecaries and humble monks of the Heavenly Sisters attended to the fever-wracked lord, knights from across the Realm rode forth in search of a cure amid the untamed depths of the Everfree wilds, where wonders and horrors beyond the ken of men lay in abundance.
None went so boldly or so bravely as Flash Sentry of Emberdale, charging into the forested depths astride the royal-coated unicorn he won in a wager against the Faerie King himself.
A less noble soul might say he quickly became lost in the sylvan depths. Flash knew that righteousness would guide him, and even when that guidance was less than clear, his steed would never fall prey to fae trickery.
United by trust, the two happened upon a secluded glade, dappled sunlight filtering through a rare hole in the vast canopy. It was there where Flash happened upon a vision of strange beauty. At the edge of a pond there sat a creature wearing the form of a lovely maiden, yet she had skin like slate and garb the likes of which Flash had never seen in all his days.
“Whoa, Tempest," he said, for he could feel his mount's flanks tense at the peculiar sight. With the mare as gentled as she ever was, he called, "You there! In the name of High Queen Twilight, identify yourself! Friend or foe?”
The creature looked up from the water. Another flaw in its disguise betrayed it, the seeming's eyes dancing about like fish in a bowl as it got to its feet. “Flash? Again?”
The knight made quiet note of that comment. Rumors spoke of even time losing its way in the deepest Everfree. He would have to keep watch for this being in days to come... assuming they had not already met. The Faerie King was an infamously sore loser, and one's name on unfamiliar lips rarely boded well. “Answer the question, stranger,” he said coldly, loosing his blade in its scabbard.
Those golden eyes darted between Flash's steely gaze and his trusty sword. The creature took a wary step back. “Please tell me you won't try to stab me regardless of what I say.”
Flash knew better than to make any binding vow this deep in the wild wood. “Creature, I quest for the sake of Lord Rockfist, languishing even now in his keep. Beguile me not with your riddles. Tempest and I both lack the patience for them.”
Tempest agreed with a snort, pawing the earth with a hoof. A pat on her neck stilled her fury. For now.
The creature's own concern eased, a smile playing across its features. “Oh. Right, of course you'd be trying to help someone. Friend, by the way."
"My vows mean I can do nothing less." Flash fought back a swell of pride. But to think, tales of the honor of the Realm coming this far! Even tales of his own valor! It was a near thing not to swagger a little. "But what of you, friend? Why do you come to this place?"
The maiden-thing turned back to the water, melancholy in its eyes and tone. "I’m… You could say I'm on a quest of my own.”
“Indeed? What for?" Tempest gave a warning nicker, still wary, but Flash pressed on. The fair folk could twist the truth, but never outright lie. "I know the ways of your kind. If you swear a vow of peace, we might search together for both our prizes.”
The creature shook its head. “Sorry. I’m just looking for answers. And I’m not even sure about the question.”
Flash had seen many faeries in his time. Skittish sprites like horseflies with wings to match, cat-sized mischief makers held aloft by glass shards, and cruel beasts like children with the wings of diseased crows. The Faerie King had many wings, no two alike, and changed them as a noblewoman did her dresses. But never had he seen an arcing length of gilded light spread from a fae neck before, like a longbow hewn from a sunbeam.
"Thanks, Flash," the faerie said as it took the air. "Good luck on your quest." It rose through a hole in the trees, the sun dazzling Flash before he could see it leave.
Quickly, he spat three times off his right shoulder and touched the cold iron nail he kept at his belt. "Flash Sentry," he said, and was satisfied that the sun fae—may the Sisters smite such mockery!—had not made off with his name as the price for its blessing.
Tempest nickered and trotted onward without Flash's prompting. "Aye," he said, and focused once more on the plight of Lord Rockfist. But that night and many others, he would find himself dreaming of golden eyes that could never quite meet his own.
Magical Moments wasn't the hottest club in town, but it was a consistent gig. Moreover, it let Flash do what he loved, and like the saying went, he hadn't worked a day in his life.
Practiced? Sure. Played? Regularly. But worked? The closest he came was when Twilight sat his ass down and made him try to do his own taxes. Of course, that woman wasn't just his manager, she was also the owner of the club, the occasional bartender, and so many more roles that Flash got tired just thinking about all of them. And hey, that was what made her happy in her own way. More power to her.
Flash did what he was meant to do: Shred a guitar and rock the mike. Sweat flew from his face as he belted out the last verse of "Be Your Shield," Flash Drive's signature tune ever since they were dodging empty beer bottles during amateur nights at Sacrapinto State. Now they had a well-lit stage instead of a random corner of a dive bar, and while the audience wasn't any more sober, at least they were trying to sing along.
As Flash shifted into the last few rounds of the chorus, the crowd went wild. The grin on his face only widened in the commotion. The art of music was part of why he loved what he did, but the shouts that called back? Knowing he was making this a great night for dozens of people? That was what made it truly worth it.
After the chord faded, so did the stage lights, leaving Flash with just one more thing to say to close out the night. "We are Flash Drive! You've been a great crowd! Good... night?"
Once he could actually see what was causing the noise, his thanks to the crowd died on his lips. Brawls had broken out on the dance floor, going by how the bouncers were holding back a few especially foul-mouthed folks. A lot of people seemed banged up, though there was thankfully no sign of blood.
"Who's that with Twi?" said Brawly Beats, who'd gotten up from his drum set at some point in Flash's shock.
Flash followed his pointing finger, spotting a girl who looked too young for the club squirming in Twilight's surprisingly strong grip locked around her shoulder. (Among her many as-needed duties, Twilight didn't hesitate to act as a backup bouncer when shorthanded.) Whatever had happened, that girl had gotten the worst of it, going by her eyes.
At that point, Flash didn't even think about what to do next. He just acted, jumping off the edge of the stage and moving around the still-tense crowd like it had all been choreographed ahead of time.
"What's the story, Twilight?" he said once he was close enough. It still came out as a half-shout given the commotion.
"The situation's under control, Flash," Twi grumbled.
The girl gasped. It was hard to tell if that was from surprise or Twilight tightening her grip on her shoulder.
Flash frowned. "Okay, but what is the situation?"
That got an eye roll. "She's not another baby bird for you to take in."
"She has a concussion."
The girl gave a pained grin despite the growing bruise on her forehead. "No, my eyes are just like this."
"Hush," said Twilight, nudging the girl with the toe of a sensible flat. "This idiot's the one thing that might not get you arrested."
Flash took the girl's free arm and half-led, half-dragged Twilight back to the bar. "This idiot couldn't see anything with the stage lights on. Care to fill him in?"
Twilight gave her captive one last warning glare, then moved back behind the counter while Flash kept a hand on the girl's shoulder. He'd go to bat for her, sure, but he wasn't completely stupid. Neither were the barflies who scattered when they saw the look on the owner's face.
"I was mixing a Manehattan when I heard the shouts," Twilight recalled. "As far as anyone can tell, she snuck past the bouncers, divebombed the crowd, and kicked off a bunch of smaller fights because someone shoved someone else. Drinks were spilled, punches thrown. Nothing we haven't seen before, just a lot of it. Aside from the instigator."
"Um, that's me." The girl gave a nervous wave, which wilted under Twilight's unamused look.
"She's a very... youthful eighteen." Twilight gave Flash the side-eye. "Assuming I can trust an ID that's 'in another universe.'"
Flash held back a shudder. Air quotes. Air quotes were never a good sign with Twilight.
The girl, blissfully ignorant, shrugged. "Hey, lying would just raise more questions."
"So will assault charges."
"Come on, Twi," said Flash, "we don't need to go that far."
That got an unamused look. "You really want to do this?"
"She didn't mean anything by it."
"I didn't."
"So you're going to stick your neck out for her after you've known her for what, a minute?" Twilight glanced at the clock behind the bar. "Two at most?"
Flash shrugged with faux casualness. "You did for me."
The two of them held each other's gazes for a moment that stretched uncomfortably long. Flash felt the girl squirm under his palm and pressed down a little to keep her from making things worse.
Twilight groaned and started cleaning glasses. "Whatever. Make it quick; I want you back here ASAP. Brawly and Ringo can leave if they want, but you are helping the custodial staff and me with cleaning up after her."
"You can trust the janitors to do their jobs, Twi."
Flash's experienced eye caught the way Twilight held back an entire lecture on how her schedule only left her free to tend bar once a week, and how important it was that she not seem distant from any of her workers. "Just go."
He went. Thankfully, the girl needed no encouragement to follow him to the club's entrance. The lighting in Magical Moments, purple as Twilight's skin, meant Flash's night vision wasn't completely wrecked as they walked facefirst into the wet towel that was a Crystal City summer.
Flash looked down at the girl, who was staring at the sidewalk. He then turned to the line full of folks wanting to get in staring at both of them. "Right." He led the girl down the block, away from prying eyes. "So. I appreciate the enthusiasm, but you don't need to do something like that to get the Flash Drive experience. You can check us out on Songify, Bandclass, pretty much every major music distributor. Twi's great like that."
"She certainly seems to be," the girl mumbled.
Grim possibilities came to mind as to why a possibly underage girl might have crashed the show. "Hey, listen, you do have somewhere to go, right? This wouldn't be the first time I've had to spend the night on a bandmate's couch." Flash fished in his pockets for his keys. "Just, uh, hang on a second..."
At that, the girl cracked up, doubling over with desperate laughter.
Flash had heard that before. It was the kind of laughter that could go to sobbing at any moment. Sometimes it had come from him. He waited until she calmed down before allowing himself a grin. "Don't think I said anything that funny."
"You left your keys in the dressing room, didn't you?"
"Uh..." Flash blinked as he thought back to his pre-show prep. "Guess I did."
"Just like that time at the freshman talent show."
He shuddered as old embarrassments came back fresh. "How'd you—"
The girl shook her head while wiping her eyes with the back of her hand. "You wouldn't believe me if I told you. But yeah. If nothing else, I always have somewhere to go."
And then she jumped into the air, and a sunbeam came out of her neck and held her there. "Thanks for the save, Flash. The goatee is... a choice." She turned and...
Flash wasn't really sure how to describe it. The girl got further away while staying in place, until there was no sign she'd ever been there. A few startled shouts and lit-up smartphone screens got him out of his initial shock, sending him staggering back into the club through the back. He mumbled something to his departing bandmates, went through the back hallways, and landed on a bar stool like a sack of potatoes.
"That certainly was quick," said Twilight. "She call a cab or something?"
"Or something." Flash stared off into the middle distance. "What was that about her ID being in another dimension?"
Twilight sighed. "Flash, you can't believe every sob story some fangirl tells you. I'm not hiring another Wallflower."
That got him to focus on her, one eyebrow raised. "Wallflower who does her own vodka infusions and never forgets a regular's order?"
"Just because it worked once..."
Flash let himself get carried off in the cadence of a different performance. By the time he went to bed, he'd convinced himself he'd imagined the vanishing girl. By the next day, he'd forgotten her entirely.
The next month, a grey-skinned blonde would show up on national news for her best selling autobiography, and Flash would get struck by déjà vu.
Later accounts would differ in many details, but they’d all agree that Sentry didn’t deserve what happened to him. The angel had as good a reputation as one could in the Red City of Throne, hub of the multiverse. Given that Throne was a metropolitan den of thieves larger than some Stirropean nations, an unthinkably vast urban sprawl built around and sometimes on or in the petrified corpses of the departed 777,777 gods, this meant he was as conflict-averse as a cold-burning embodiment of the old Law could be.
Sentry had long ago found an inoffensive way to carry out his duty, watching over a supply depot that four different trade guilds had fought legal battles over for centuries. As such, the Guild of Barristers arguably had the most legitimate claim to it and they wanted nothing to do with the place. Its appointed watchman could thus spend his days in relative peace. An angel who wasn’t bothering the populace over minor indiscretions—or trying to annihilate existence to cleanse it of its sins—was a well-liked angel, and thus Sentry and the neighborhood around him coexisted peacefully as the warehouse’s forgotten contents crumbled to dust.
This balance, like all perfect balances, came to an abrupt and violent end when an unexpected element struck the pans. In the case of Sentry, this was a girl with eyes like gold and, aside from a bruise on her forehead, skin like the armor of forged ash that contained the cold, bright flame that was his true form.
She rushed to him with great urgency and, while her gaze spoke of fear, very little of it was focused on him. "How may I help you, citizen?" said Sentry, his watchman's staff at the ready.
The girl leaned around him, looking longingly at the warehouse. "I need a few minutes to catch my breath. And my magic. Don't suppose I can get in there?"
Sentry shook his head. "You cannot. That property is sealed until all decisions regarding its ownership have been resolved. If you wish, you may contact Seven Stars in Evening Twilight, the current provisional deedholder at the Guild of Barristers, for further information." Seven Stars was a devil, but one who at least understood and respected the fine arts of bureaucracy, and thus Sentry had little quarrel with her beyond principle.
The girl seemed to disagree, groaning and burying her face in her palms. "Of course. Of course it's her."
"She does fine work for one such as she."
"I don't doubt it. Fine, I'll just..." The girl looked in every direction, even up, and found herself sealed in. The teeming masses of Throne had built around the warehouse, happy to consume it as it lay forgotten. So long as none disturbed it or completely cut off access, Sentry had been happy to let them.
The girl was not. "Fine. Don't know why I even came here if I was just going to..." She trailed off and took a step back, eyes scanning over the form depicted on the shell containing Sentry. Her eyes lingered on a crack in one greave. "What's your name?"
"I am 18 Sentry’s Light Lays Bare Encroaching Evil." And, because the girl seemed very confused indeed, he added, "I am an angel." It seemed wise to offer an obvious truth to help ground her.
One eyelid twitched for a moment. Sentry wasn't sure, but it didn't seem like that sort of thing was supposed to happen with humans. "You know what? Sure. I'm just going to—"
"There she is!"
A motley crew of far more aggressive people crowded into the alley that led to Sentry's post. A man at the head of the band pointed at the girl with his sword. "A woman with hair of gold and a star on her brow!"
A goblin by his side breathed deep, face-covering, bat-like nasal passages serving him well in place of eyes, fingers dancing over the revolvers at his belt. "The scent of other worlds upon her."
A witch, hovering above the street with almost delicate grace, tipped up her hat and sneered, red vapor drifting from her mouth with every word. "And the bid for her corpse is seven hundred times her weight in gold and rising."
Sentry advanced, staff in hand. "This is unbecoming behavior, citizens. While no laws have yet been broken, I must warn you that you come perilously close to numerous infractions."
The gang flinched back as one. "No one said there'd be an angel," muttered one.
After a moment, the swordsman sneered. "Wait. I know you. The coward-angel, lurking in your little hidey-hole and pretending the gods aren't dead." He scoffed and kicked at the skull of honored YS-Sundi, vizier of charity to the deserving, who now acted as a support pillar to a many-leveled shopping center on the layer above.
This emboldened the gang somewhat, and they pressed forward, jeering and brandishing arms. Yet every step seemed to call for more bravado than the last as Sentry stood as still as his staff.
Quietly, he said, "Girl."
"Yeah?" she answered, gaze darting between him, her pursuers, and much of the rest of their surroundings.
"I cannot allow you to enter the supply depot—"
"Seriously?"
"But I can note the access hatch directly behind us."
She went still and looked down, realization lighting up her eyes. "Oh. Well, how about that." She grinned at him in a way that no one had in even Sentry's prodigious memory. "Thanks, Mr. Eighteen."
Sentry found his lips turning up without meaning to. "You are welcome."
He did not turn to see her open the hatch. The reaction of the gang—in the case of the goblin, to the squeal of the hinges—was enough to tell him when she had.
"She's making a break for it!"
"You said we'd have her cornered!"
"Who cares? Get her!"
They charged, a score of warriors wielding bullet, blade, and balefire. Sentry had done little but stand in place and read legal briefs for several centuries.
"Forgive me, o gods, for this violence I am about to inflict."
But he was still an angel, and divine flame and unyielding stone were still a devastating combination.
Only a lucky shot from the witch, fired in spite as she and a few others limped away to lick their wounds, managed to breach Sentry's armor enough that his essence burst forth in a grand conflagration. The shape of the alley and the breach meant that the vast majority of it ended up obliterating the warehouse. Moreover, the young woman the gang had meant to pursue had been in a completely different part of Throne the whole time.
After he reincarnated and learned this, 19 Sentry’s Light had to admit, it was kind of funny.
Ditzy Doo fumed as she flitted through the space between spaces. All she wanted was a chance to be alone with her thoughts, preferably somewhere in a conventional spacetime manifold. Just a chance to sort things out without certain people distracting her with their good nature and selflessness and cute smile...
She glowered at the many faced overdeity giving her a knowing look from atop the realm she'd just left. "Don't you start."
Great YISUN said nothing, for they were at once long dead, not yet born, and a consummate liar. They did smile in the third way at the young maiden, for a master recognizes fellow craftsmen and the best practice of lying is self-deception.
Ditzy, emotionally and mentally exhausted, flipped off the supreme king and oriented herself on the golden star in the distance that was home. Her trainer had warned her about going too far afield; much farther and she'd end up in the really abstract parts of existence. And she'd probably still end up running into Flash. Besides, the lynchpins of realities in this neck of the woods were far more insufferable than Sunset Shimmer.
Probability space streamed by as Ditzy flew on bow-shaped wings of golden light that glowed and flowed from the patch of feathers on the back of her neck, a unique spin on the magic that had suffused her home worldline and its inhabitants. Countless possibilities zipped past, appearing to her special eyes as a congery of spheres, each one a distorted window into that universe and topped with its governing power where applicable.
But eventually, Ditzy tired. She'd gone a long way, and she needed some rest before she could make it all the way back, physical and magical fatigue added to the pile as her pace slowed.
"Fine," she grumbled, turning to the nearest reality bubble she could spot with a healthy Tree of Harmony on top. "A quick rest stop. But he'd better not be there waiting for me." Ditzy flew towards that Equestria, the hypersphere warping and unfolding as she approached it, tilting through dimensions until she found herself above an iteration of pony Canterlot.
"Don't you dare," she muttered to reality at large. "Don't you hecking dare."
Still, hovering out of view of any ponies at ground level wasn't letting her magic rest, and she knew from experience that sitting on the castle roof was more trouble than it was worth. Ditzy shut her eyes, still adjusting to working with just three dimensions, and let herself gently descend until she ended up wherever she might.
"Greetings, sir, madam, or esteemed nonbinary individual," began a thankfully unfamiliar voice. Ditzy let the boilerplate wash over her as she took a deep breath.
Then she made the mistake of opening her eyes. The mare looked up at her, likely uncertain about the creature just standing there unresponsive after the official statement. Familiar awkwardness played across her features as she took in the human's eyes. Her orange-coated features, as opposed to the navy blue mane poking out of her helmet.
Ditzy sighed. This wasn't her first brush with this scenario. "Flare Warden, I presume?"
After a few more moments of confusion, the guardsmare hazarded a "Yes?"
Ditzy tilted her head back, groaned, and turned away from the Archive.
"Is everything alright?" Flare called after her.
"Nothing a muffin can't fix," Ditzy said with a wave, not pausing or looking back. She wasn't sure what Donut Joe's name was when his local analogue was female, but she planned on finding out. Then it was straight back home. Especially if she really could be alone with her thoughts and a muse in a cupcake wrapper.
When Flash had been a young boy, his grandmother had loved to tell him tales of their heroic ancestor, Flash Magnus. She especially relished the tale of how, after the brash Magnus had offended some magical scourge of the old country, said scourge had afflicted his bloodline with an everlasting curse.
The offense, the offended party, and even the location of the old country varied depending on Grandma Vigil’s mood and blood alcohol content, but the curse remained consistent. A threefold malediction hung over the House of Flash: May they live in interesting times, may they come to the attention of people in authority, and may they get exactly what they deserve.
At the time, Flash, like his storied ancestor, hadn’t thought it sounded like much of a curse at all. In the present, after multiple complicated relationships with the magical proteges of an extradimensional equine sun goddess, he suspected the curse had found him before he’d even graduated high school. Especially after one of those proteges had risen to godhood herself, remaking the world in her image despite her best efforts.
And now here he was, on a double date with said not-a-god and two versions of the same person, one of whom was explicitly using this as a way to let him down easy. The noble Magnus himself might think twice about such a situation, but Flash had grinned and borne the awkwardness with, in his opinion, heroic effort.
The lunch date had wound to a close, and once Sunset and the local Twilight—H-Twilight, as she and her counterpart had decided—had said their goodbyes, that left Flash standing by the Wondercolt statue with his date. His Twilight. P-Twilight. Princess Twilight, who wasn't his any more than he could reach out and grab a star out of the sky. In both cases, there'd be consequences. In her own world, P-Twilight had so much magical power that she hadn't been allowed to set foot on this one for months, not until Sunset had fixed some of the damage done by bringing magic here in the first place. Which meant months of waiting for a resolution with the mystery girl who'd crashed into Flash's arms and heart.
If nothing else, it had been a great source of inspiration, even if Flash's bandmates had derided the "sappy, whiny emo vibes." True art was suffering, not that those Fillystines could appreciate it.
"Flash?" said Twilight, looking at him with concern.
He realized he'd been standing there thinking for the better part of a minute. "Sorry. Just..." He offered the best smile he could. "I hate to say goodbye."
Twilight nodded. "I know how you feel, and I do want to come back someday. But it's not fair to ask you to keep waiting, or to uproot your life. Even if it were, you're pony enough that the portal won't change you if you go through. I certainly can't ask you to be the one human in Equestria. Ponies..." She sighed. "We don't always deal well with the strange and unfamiliar. I have some ideas there, but until then..."
Flash nodded. He couldn't argue with Twilight, much as he wanted to. "I'll still miss you."
"So will I. But this is for the best. And we can always be friends."
"Yeah. Of course." It was like a dagger in Flash's heart. He still kept a smile on his face. This would be an amazing song.
They hugged. Anything more would hurt too much, no matter what Flash's muse said. Twilight still pulled back far too early. "It's not goodbye, Flash. Just see you later."
He nodded and watched her walk into the statue. After a few seconds of internal debate, he pressed his hand against it and only met cold stone. "See you later," Flash sighed, resting against the pedestal.
An unexpected touch made him look back up. A familiar face stood behind him, patting him on the back. "Hey," said Ditzy Doo.
Flash gave the most genuine smile he had all day. "Hey. How long have you been there?"
"Just got here." Ditzy leaned against the statue, sliding down until she ended up sitting. "I've been... around. Thinking."
"I'm guessing you didn't just walk around the neighborhood."
That got something like a grin, but she didn't look up, toying with the grass. "Well, I didn't get lost and end up on the other side of town this time, if that's what you're asking."
"Everything okay?" said Flash, sitting at her side.
Ditzy frowned and gave him a sidelong glance. "Shouldn't I be the one asking you that?"
He shrugged. "Hey, you're the one who hit your head."
"Just an awkward landing in a crowded nightclub. We both know I've had worse. You had the big double date today, and it doesn't look like it went well."
Another shrug. "I'm dealing with it."
That got a full-on frown. "What if I want to help you deal with it?"
Flash matched the expression. "Well, what if I want to help you?"
Ditzy threw her hands into the air. "You've been trying to help me all day!"
"This is the first time I've even seen you today!"
"I know! That's the problem!" Ditzy got back to her feet and started pacing. "You being nice and considerate and thoughtful is a multiversal constant! No matter where I've gone today, you've been there for me, and I really appreciate that even though I know you'd do it for any stranger you'd find because I've been a stranger and Twilight is always, always involved and why should I even say anything when she's just better than me!?"
Flash watched as she came to stop, huffing for breath as tears pooled in her eyes, and stood up himself. "Okay, we definitely need to talk."
That got Ditzy giggling like a maniac. "Sure! That never leads to trouble! And if it does, I can just run away again. I'm good at that." Her crazed smile fell. "Except the part where I keep finding you. And her."
"Well, this time you just missed her."
Ditzy blinked. "I did?"
"Yup." Flash jerked his thumb at the statue. "Back in Equestria. After she broke up with me. After the pity date."
"That doesn't sound like Twilight at all."
"I'm probably making it sound worse than it really was," Flash said with a shrug. "Besides, this isn't about me, it's—"
"No, it's absolutely about you!" Ditzy cried, rushing in inches from Flash's face and scowling up at him. "It's always been about you! You deserve to be happy! You're a good person, you save the day, you should get the girl!"
Flash made to rub the back of his neck, only stopping himself when his fingers brushed the feathers there. "It's not like I meant to expose that smuggling ring last month—"
"So? You're good people and bad things should stop happening to you!"
"I could say the same for you!" Flash put his hands on Ditzy's shoulders. "You've been there for me since we were in grade school. When I broke my leg in that soccer game, you helped me off the field. When Sunset had me under her thumb during her bad old days, you showed me how toxic she really was. And when I had to say goodbye, or see you later, or whatever to Twilight, you were here for me before I even knew I needed you."
"Yeah. Sure." She looked away. "I help you pick up the pieces. I break enough stuff to be good at that. But I'm not a princess or a queen or... or whatever that one lawyer Twilight was. I just need to suck it up and get over this stupid crush so you can do better! You deserve better!"
Both went still, Ditzy so shocked her eyes went straight. She took a step back, spreading her lightbow. "I... I should go."
Flash's hand in hers stopped her ascent. "Ditzy."
"Flash, it's okay, you—"
"I don't want better."
Her face erupted in a crimson blush. "I don't think that came out the way you meant it."
"Don't suppose you'll let me try again?" Flash grinned. "Maybe tomorrow at lunch?"
Ditzy landed. "As friends, or..." She trailed off, gaze drifting to their hands.
Flash shrugged. "That's up to you. You've definitely been a good friend to me. But if you want to call it a date—"
She hugged him, tight enough to squeeze the wind out of him. Sniffling, she said into his chest, "I wouldn't miss it for all the worlds."
Author's Note
Rejected potential para-Flashes included but were not limited to:
• Flash Sentry, soup kitchen volunteer (and Twilight, who runs the place)
• Flash Sentry, ThirdComm motor pool technician (and Twilight, a lancer.)
• Flashpoint, exceptionally confused dragon who’s never had to deal with princess-kidnapping instincts before (and Dragonlord Trinitrate.)
• Flash Sentry, Flying-type Pokémon gym trainer (and Twilight, the regional champion.)
• F7-S3, protocol droid (and Jedi Master Twi'lek Sparkle)
• And many more!
Dedicated to my parents, who have had more than one argument over each being excessively considerate towards the other.
