Bon Bon, I Expect You to Dye
From Cow-nah-da, With Love
"Bon Bon, I expect you to die," Lyra had said, sparking Bon Bon's existential terror not just because of the eschatological philosophizing that Bon Bon's marefriend probably was implying since there was literally no reason Lyra, the light and love of her life would ever--could ever--wish harm on Bon Bon--under normal circumstances.
Bon Bon looked over at Lyra, who was holding a long kitchen knife and advancing on her, giggling accompanied by an unexpectedly glassy look in her eyes.
Bon Bon threw herself off the couch and grabbed a brass candlestick from beside it. Her training took over--and she nearly whacked Lyra over the head. But she hesitated. She couldn't take the risk that Lyra might never wake up--she'd had dreams about that. Terrible sweaty hot horrible dreams.
Bon Bon had been out of the violence industry for too long--she wasn't sure if she'd overcompensate--this assault was too sudden. She coughed and panicked and bolted out the front door, blocked it with a wedged candlestick and some hidden bits she shoved into its frame and tumbled into the bushes beneath her front window, breathing hard.
A thud resounded from the door. Then there was the sound of the knife striking its center again and again and again.
Somewhere in her loving heart, Bon Bon felt a great sense of accomplishment. The martial arts and strength training she'd convinced beanpole Lyra to take up for the past few months had been having a good effect. Lyra would never have been able to carve a hole in the door. Most ponies couldn't have done that so quickly. Bon Bon wasn't thinking straight. The door's innards must have been hollow instead of pure wood. SMILE, Equestria's espionage agency which she had retired from, had set her up in this house. They couldn't have given her a hollow door--those weren't secure. And she'd tested the door and everything else when she moved in. Somehow, the door had been replaced. She couldn't have been slipping so much since her retirement, though?
Bon Bon bit her lower lip. It'd been hell since she'd canceled her license to kill. Her former-targets were in Tartarus or dead. They were supposed to only live-on in her head, but now one of them was back, and Bon Bon felt a great sense of rage.
"Heeeeere's Lyra!" Bon Bon's paramour trilled out happily, placing one eye between the shards of the shattered door. "Ready or not, here I come."
Could Bon Bon's third greatest enemy have gotten to Lyra? The mind-controlling enemy whose catch-phrase he'd udderednot-sic when he'd had her at his mercy deep in his Cow Pie. She had been up to her muzzle in it--the eponymous material from which the building had been built.
A brilliant bovine bull who could have dedicated himself to protecting his herd and building up their society--all other bovines were sentient but incapable of complex thought beyond that of a pre-cutie-marked foal--their society depended on ponies and other more intelligent species for advanced technology.
This bovine, "Eh," from Cow-nah-da, was Bon Bon's third greatest nemesis--a master of mind-control. And she had thought him defeated. He had fallen into his own trap of sharks, consumed by Lockjaw and Lowjack.
But maybe that was panic thinking. Bon Bon had demons aplenty, from the Bugbear that led to her semi-retirement to Ponyville where, under cover of working as a candymaker, she'd been put in charge of secretly looking after Celestia's top student, now Princess Twilight Sparkle... and also caring for Celestia's court's top troublemaker, Lyra Heartstrings--who lived up to her name, tugging on Bon Bon's heartstrings and turning the tables. But now, the tables had turned back again, and the target had become... something terrible.
"I want... tie up... you." Lyra's voice cut in and out while Bon Bon slunk through the foliage, circling back to the rear door. She made her way through the bushes, over a low backyard fence, then she pulled some garlic bulbs from their emergency garden, careful not to yank any of Lyra's hemp, then sidled past their clothesline where white linens were drying. Wobbling slightly, she almost fell into a weirdly-placed wooden tub filled with colorful liquid, but she managed to press herself against the back wall of her home. Then, she reached out with her hoof and carefully jimmied the back door and avoided the falling bucket trap she had rigged. The tin and water splashed down, she took a deep breath, and prepared to face her love.
"Lyra," she called. "I know it's not you saying those terrible things. You've been mind-controlled. But it will all be fine."
"What?" Lyra turned, frowning.
"You've put your knife down--good, good."
"That was a paint brush!" Lyra looked back to the door and the threshold where her knife lay.
"Good. Good. Now," Bon Bon took advantage of Lyra's distraction to crack the garlic open. "Smell this."
Lyra sniffed, then she thought better of it. "Um. That's not going to make me any less high," she blinked.
"Buck it, Lyra. You're high?"
"Yeah."
"Explains the eyes..." Bon Bon sighed. "But why?"
"To chill, Bonnie," Lyra forced a smile. "You needed it, after last night. A real bummer of a night. You were yelling at some horrible pony called Goldhoof and threatening to cut of his golden... well.... So, we're chilling and tie dying."
Bon Bon bit her lower lip. "I see..."
"Darn it, Bon Bon," Lyra looked at detritus lying on the ground adjacent to the couch. "You smoked the rest of it..."
"Curses," Bon Bon sat.
Lyra held her hoof. "It was a bad trip?"
Bon Bon blinked and looked at the front door. It had lockable view-box. A paintbrush lay beside it on the ground.
"I thought this would help." Lyra hugged her. "I'm sorry."
"Lyra,"
"Yes."
"You were right."
"Actually, I wasn't."
"Before you suggested toking..."
"You mean--"
"I'll talk it over with Luna. My dreams. She has clearance. And training."
They hugged for a very long time.
Author's Note
If you liked this and want more Lyra, you may enjoy checking out my Tales of the Celestian Days, Without Cake, which explains how Lyra Heartstrings got kicked out of Celestia's court.
