Olivine Facet trudged her way downstairs. Slipping through the office of the repair shop she owned with her partner, Snare Trap, she made her way into the actual garage bays where they did their work.

It was tedious business, but every night, Olive would make sure that all the tools were in their proper place. Then she would ensure that all of their machines were off and unplugged. She would then check on their part inventory, making sure everything was still in its rightful place. And then, after all that, she would ensure all the doors and entrances were locked snug.

Olive made her way back upstairs, dragging considerably slower than she had going down. Her ear flicked towards the shut door to the guest bedroom, but when she didn’t hear any sounds from inside, she turned back to her and Trap’s bedroom for a good night’s rest.

She found Trap already under the covers. The unicorn sat up and magically pulled back the covers for her tired crystal unicorn marefriend, and gave her a warm smile as she climbed in beside her.

“Is everything alright?” Trap asked.

“Everything’s locked up, Snare,” Olive said with a yawn. “Everything’s off and put away.”

“And how are Creek and Pile?” Trap glanced at the door.

“Didn’t hear a peep from them,” Olive said. “Hopefully we don’t until morning, I’m tired.”

Trap smiled, leaning over and kissing Olive’s cheek. “Then let’s get some rest, hon.”

Olive gratefully nodded. She and Trap both plugged their horns with tennis balls—a safety precaution for both the bedding and each other—and laid down to sleep. Olive felt Trap’s legs embrace her close, and the crystal pony nuzzled into the larger mare’s chest, letting the warmth carry her off to sleep.

It couldn’t have been more than a few minutes into their restful slumber when a noise started rattling the walls. It sounded like a revving engine, cycling up and then back down. Trap blinked awake with a groan, squinting at the sound.

“Olive?” she asked hoarsely.

Olive merely hummed in reply. She heard the noise, but was set on sleeping through it.

“Are you sure you turned everything off?” Trap asked.

“Yes, I’m sure,” Olive murmured.

“Can you go check again? I think something got switched on,” Trap replied, nudging her gently.

With much grumbling in protest, Olive left the warm comfort of her marefriend’s embrace and scooted out of bed. Begrudgingly, she made her way back down the hall, back down the stairs, and into their shop.

Once again, she checked the tools—nothing. Once again she checked all of the equipment, this time twice—again, nothing. Glancing into the part inventory, she could see nothing amiss.

Scratching her tired head with a forehoof, Olive grumbled as she trudged back upstairs. She was about to return to their bedroom when she realized the door to the guest room was rattling. Focusing her ears, she realized the noise was coming from within.

Grumbling under her breath, Olive firmly knocked on the guest bedroom door.

It opened a moment later, a sheepish Pile peering out. Once open, the revving noise was more recognizable: snoring.

“What is going on?” Olive huffed.

“Sorry. Creek snores when she sleeps in a foreign bed,” Pile said with an apologetic smile. “I know it sounds weird, but that’s what she told me. I’ve sort of gotten used to it when she stays over at my place.”

“Knowing that sooner could’ve been helpful,” Olive said flatly. “Goodnight.”

She stomped back down the hall as Pile shut the door again. Trap was waiting for her when she entered again.

“It wasn’t one of the machines?” she asked.

Olive shook her head. “Better set up a reverse soundproofing spell,” she said with a sigh. “We got a snoring kirin on our hooves.”

Author's Note

Fun Fact: Most ponies call Snare Trap "Trap," but because she's not most ponies, Olive refers to her as "Snare."