A Motorcycle Built For Two
“And so I said to her, ‘Darling, if you absolutely have your heart set on wearing red, please make it a nice subtle rose instead of that garish, glaring scarlet. You’ll look like a fire hydrant!”
Sunset politely laughed along with the group as Rarity continued to spin her tale (complete with gestures, character voices, and color commentary on her own actions) but she was only half-listening. She’d somewhat lost the plot around the introduction of the fifth person she’d never met and was mainly just enjoying her friend’s enthusiasm. That, and her chocolate malt milkshake.
‘I wonder why Earth chocolate tastes so different from Equestrian? Maybe we cultivated different strains of cocoa beans. Or it could just be that human taste buds are different. More sweet-sensitive so the recipe needs less sugar for the same impact?’ She took another slurp of the rich, chocolatey goodness. ‘Either way, if I ever go back for a visit, I’ve got to teach them about malts. It’ll change the milkshake game!’
“Anyway, to spare you the boring details, all the lizards were rounded up, he got bailed out, she eventually got her cockatiel back, and now the two of them are a happy couple!” Rarity concluded with visible delight. “All thanks to moi!”
Sunset blinked. ‘Just how much of the story did I zone out for?’
“Aw, that’s very sweet,” Fluttershy said, clapping lightly (then stopping quickly when she noticed no one else was clapping).
“I liked the part where he got arrested,” Rainbow added, boredly spinning her straw between her fingers. “Aside from that, eh, romance. Lame. Who needs it?” She leaned over and stuck her straw back in the root beer float she was sharing with Applejack (‘just to save money,’ she’d insisted, ‘and calories. No other reason’).
Rarity turned to her with a raised brow, but said nothing. “Be that as it may, in light of this success I have decided that, seeing as I am something of the romance expert among our circle of friends, it’d only be fair for me to offer my matchmaking services if any of you happened to be interested. Fluttershy?”
The girl in question blushed a little (which was a step up from hiding behind her hair) but shook her head. “Thank you, but… no thank you. I’m… happy with where I am.”
Rarity looked slightly disappointed (almost as if she’d had a potential match in mind already) but didn’t press. “That’s perfectly fine, darling. Pinkie?”
“Don’t need it!” Pinkie grinned from across the room (she was still technically on shift, even if they were the only ones in the diner). “I can get all the dates I want, no problemo! I’ve got three planned this week already!”
Rarity nodded as if she’d expected that, and continued around the room. “Sunset, would—”
“Hey!” Applejack cut in. “What’re ya doin’ skippin’ over me? Ah’m single too, ya know.”
Literally everyone except Applejack noticed as Rainbow Dash suddenly jerked back her wandering hand from where it had been inching toward the farmer’s. Her eyes refused to meet any of theirs, as if refusing to acknowledge her actions would make them all forget they saw it.
Rarity gave her a flat look. “You don’t need my help.” Her pronouncement delivered (much to Applejack’s visible confusion) the would-be matchmaker turned her attention to the final friend in the room. “Sunset? Offer’s open. I know things ended poorly with Flash, but if you're ready to try again…”
Sunset shook her head. “Thanks, but I’m good. I’m way over Flash by now, and besides that, I’m already spoken for.”
The room dropped to total silence. Even the clock stopped ticking and the air conditioning seemed to hesitate. She’d have made less of an impact if she’d told them there was a bomb under the table.
Despite the theoretical bomb’s nonexistence, the room still exploded.
The wall of noise was difficult to pry apart into its component voices, but a clever ear would have made out two ‘What?!’s, a ‘Congratulations!’, a ‘You’re dating?!’, and a single quietly murmured ‘Wait, Flash is straight?’.
Once the initial exclamations died down, Rarity seized the reins of the conversation. “I suppose congratulations are in order, but after that,” she sat down suddenly next to Sunset, her eyes sparkling like the diamonds she adored. “You’ve simply got to tell us everything! How long has this even been going on?”
The answer didn’t come readily, and she pursed her lips for a moment in thought. “It’s hard to say. We’d already been sort of friends for a while, even while Flash and I were together. But at some point, things between her and I just kind of… naturally turned into something more.”
“And you never told us?” Pinkie gasped in overexaggerated panic, “Do you know what this means?! It means I don’t even know how many anniversary cakes I’ve missed baking for you two! And six-month-iversary cakes! And three-month-iversary cakes!”
Meanwhile Rarity latched onto a different detail. “Her?” she asked, with an expression like she was flipping through a mental contact list of every person she or Sunset had ever met. “Someone we know?”
“I doubt it. She lives on the south side of town and doesn’t go to CHS.”
“Isn’t that the, um, rough side of town?” Fluttershy asked.
Sunset stopped to consider that. As much as she considered the human Canterlot her second home, she wasn’t a born and raised local. There were always bits and pieces of common knowledge that managed to slip by her until someone pointed it out. But even taking that into consideration, she couldn’t recall any incidents. Nothing worth mentioning, anyway. She shrugged. “If you say so. I’ve never had any problems there.”
“Is she cool?” Rainbow Dash asked the obvious question, to which Sunset rolled her eyes.
“Do you think I’d be dating her if I didn’t think so?”
“She’s got ya there.”
“And when exactly do we get to meet this mysterious paramour?” Rarity whipped out her day planner and started leafing through it. “Sometime this weekend would be ideal, it’ll give me time to do some research and I won’t have to reschedule or rearrange too many of my prior engagements.”
“You don’t have to vet my girlfriend, Rarity.”
“Indeed I do! What if she’s just using you for some nefarious purpose? She could be an agent from some secret society trying to steal your magic or, worse, just using you to try and make her own ex jealous!” She rose to her feet, standing on the chair as she laid one hand across her heart and gestured with the other. “As the designated romance expert, it is my sworn duty to protect my friends from mis-matched romances!”
‘I swear, these girls. If Applejack brings up the shovel talk… actually, she’d probably bring her own weapon, then after a bit of saber-rattling they’d end up getting along just fine.’
“She’s not doing any of that, trust me.”
“But—”
“Trust me.”
Rarity sighed, but sat back down. “So be it. No investigating, no stalking her social media. I will keep an open mind. But I would still like to meet her.”
Sunset nodded. “I’ll see if she’s free, but she’s kind of a private person.”
Which set Rarity off again. “Oho~? So you prefer the shy and reserved type? Ones rather Fluttershy-esque, if you will?”
A startled ‘Eep!’ came from across the table, along with an aborted laugh from Rainbow Dash that turned into hacking and choking as a mouthful of root beer went down the wrong way.
Sunset also couldn’t help but laugh at the idea. “Ha! Oh you couldn’t be more wrong!”
“It’s right there! Get it! Get it you stupid—argh!”
A bar wasn’t Sunset’s usual sort of hangout. Putting aside that she was still considered too young to drink in the human world, this was also not the sort of establishment that tried to cater to those of her generation. Instead of trendy music, strobing lighting, and cocktails made of hard liquor mixed with sugary energy drinks, the establishment delivered classic rock, neon signs of defunct brands and vaguely misogynistic slogans, and an on-tap selection of five kinds of cheap beer and one local specialty.
“No! Take it up! Up! Come on! My grandma could do better than you and she’s dead!”
The crowd matched the décor like they’d come as a bundled set. Lots of older men and women with a penchant for denim, leather, and smoke. There were maybe two people there under thirty-five, and one of them was Sunset. The other was sitting next to her, yelling at the wall-mounted TV.
No, it wasn’t the kind of place meant for her…
“Hey Razer! Can I get some more peanuts?”
“Sure thing, Sunny. You and her need more drinks?”
She wiggled her can of soda to judge its fullness— “I’m still good.” —and turned to the girl beside her. “You?”
Bright orange eyes didn’t look away from her show. “Will you give me a beer yet, old man?”
“Did you turn twenty-one when I wasn’t looking?”
“No.”
“Then no.”
“Screw you.”
“Don’t blame me! Your daddy’d bury me alive if he found out I gave you booze.”
Sunset chuckled at the byplay as she accepted a fresh bowl of peanuts. It wasn’t the kind of place meant for her, but she’d been around long enough to wear a niche where she could fit.
It helped that the owner, the staff, and what felt like most of the patrons were all (somehow) her girlfriend’s distant extended family.
As she settled back into her seat, she spared a glance to the show that was getting her partner so incensed. Unlike the other three TVs in the bar, this one wasn’t playing sports.
“That’s not even a real word! It’s ‘dog days of summer’! How hard is it to guess five missing letters?! Come on! Come on— aaand out of time. Way to go, bonehead, you just blew ten thousand bucks.” With a grumble and a sigh, she crashed back into her barstool, nearly toppling it, but she caught the lip of the bar just in time to stop herself from falling over completely. Cerulean-tipped fingers grabbed her own soda off the counter, knocked it back in one hit, and slammed the empty can, half-crushed, back down. “I hate this show.”
“Then why do you watch it if you hate it so much?”
Razer slid another can of soda in front of her, the young woman grumbling as she cracked it open with one hand. “I don’t hate it. I just hate all the idiots they bring on to play it. They have to be bussing them in, cause there’s no way half of these bozos should be allowed to drive.” She leaned back, balancing her stool on two legs. “I tell you Sunny, if I could get on that show—”
“—You’d take home the full million, guaranteed. I know.” Sunset answered. ‘Assuming security didn’t remove you first for attacking the host over a gotcha puzzle.’
The pair fell back into companionable silence as the show went to commercial (as much as it could be silent in an active bar with four TVs, three pool tables, and a motley assortment of day-drinking roughs).
“So, Ember.”
“Yeah?”
“My friends found out we’re dating.”
Her girlfriend turned to look at her, blue bangs swishing aside to reveal her blinking in surprise. “We’re dating?”
Then it was Sunset’s turn to blink. “Aren’t we?”
“Yeah, you are,” said one of the regulars seated nearby. One of Ember’s many, many uncles with a handlebar moustache and biceps as big as her thighs.
“Totally,” agreed the heavily-tattooed woman currently drinking him under the table.
“She’s practically part of the family already,” Razer contributed from behind the bar.
“Huh,” Ember said. “I guess we’re dating then. Cool.”
That was not exactly how Sunset had planned for the conversation to start. That part wasn’t supposed to be any kind of big revelation at all. But it was all the same in the end, wasn’t it?
“Anyway, my friends found out we’re dating and now they want to meet you.”
“Are they cool?” Ember asked.
Sunset knew both her friends and Ember well enough that it wasn’t hard to imagine what it’d be like when they met. “...you’ll get along with some of them more than others.” Introducing Pinkie’s… Pinkie-ness would require a delicate touch.
“...Alright. Fine with me. I’ve got nothing to hide.”
Razer coughed pointedly, before giving Ember a look that Sunset couldn’t decipher. But whatever he meant, Ember clearly understood. Her eyes went wide and she suddenly went still as a statue.
After a worryingly long minute, Sunset placed a hesitant hand on her shoulder. “Em?”
She snapped out of whatever it was, but even then she was off. Her posture lacked the familiar, cocky, devil-may-care confidence that she usually exuded like a nearly visible aura. In an unsettling change, she looked almost… hesitant. Nervous. It wasn’t hard to put two and two together; Razer had reminded her of something she did have to hide and she didn’t know how to deal with it.
“You okay?” Sunset asked.
“Yeah… I’m just… yeah.”
She shook her head and put on a smile that didn’t reach her eyes. “I just have to… look:” She turned on her barstool to face Sunset properly, leather squeaking against the polished wood. She fingered her choker necklace, the slim digit running back and forth under the material in a rare nervous tic. There was something like worry deep in her orange eyes, which only made Sunset worry in turn. What secret could possibly cause such a change in her?
Ember took a deep breath. “So. We’re dating.”
“Glad we’ve cleared that up.”
The small crack of Ember’s smile helped lift a bit of the tension. “Yeah. But if we’re gonna be official official, then there’s something important I need to tell you.”
Sunset had been sitting up already, but even then she felt the need to straighten her posture. “Okay.”
Ember opened her mouth… then glanced around at the score of people not-so-subtly listening in. She shot them all a collective glare, complete with snarl. “Do you mind?”
As a one, they all turned back to their business and the undercurrent noise of clacking pool balls and muttered conversations resumed.
Ember leaned in, pulling Sunset closer. “Not here. Tomorrow night. We’ll take a drive and… I’ll tell you then.”
Sunset smiled. “It’s a date.”
Sunset leaned into the curve as she slalomed her motorcycle up the mountainous path towards Lookout Point. After seeing the name crop up over and over in movies she’d watched as “research into the culture of human teenagers” she almost laughed when she heard Canterlot had one of its own. It even had the same unofficial name among the local teens, but she doubted Ember had invited her up there for that.
‘Not that I’d be against it, but that’s not her speed.’
It was late, but the moon was full and her bike’s headlights cut through the darkness when clouds drifted by to block the silver light.
She tried to focus on the road, but her thoughts kept drifting away from her. What kind of secret required this level of preparation and atmosphere to reveal? She’d known Ember for longer than most other humans and thought she had a pretty good grasp of her personality. Ember wasn’t the kind to lie or keep secrets lightly. If she had an opinion or hard truth to tell you, she would tell it to your face. Flat out, no sugarcoating.
Which made all the pomp and circumstance that much more worrying.
As she rounded the last bend, the road ahead leveled off and soon widened into a small parking lot overlooking the cliffs.
Despite it being a perfect night, there was only one vehicle there: a gleaming golden beast.
To anyone who knew anything about motorcycles, Ember’s ride was unmistakable. It was a frankenstein of a thing, decked out with more questionably-legal mods than original parts, all wrapped up in a sleek yet powerful profile and painted a polished gold that would have looked gaudy with anyone else riding it. It was the kind of bike that could drive through a police barricade like it was made of silly string, and give some race cars a run for their pink slips.
Seeing it brought a small smile to her face as her mind drifted back to the first time she saw it: the day she and Ember had first met.
Sunset kicked the side of her bike and the rattling sound settled down before it could evolve into grinding. She scowled at the speedometer. Until now she’d been able to get up to thirty-five before the noise started, but suddenly she could barely get to thirty. If this kept up she’d be walking her bike to the shop before too long.
It was their fault for putting their shop in the most out-of-the-way part of the city they could find. Didn’t they know she had better things to be doing with her time than hunting them down? She had a whole highschool that she needed to manage: rumors to start, social circles to set against one another, bright-eyed freshies to put in their place. It was a full time job, being Queen, and she didn’t even get paid!
She made an illegal left down another street with a graffitied-over sign (to a chorus of honking horns, which she ignored) and finally the place came into view.
It didn’t look like much. One more rundown shop on a strip of similar buildings, but at least this one didn’t have its windows boarded up and the neon ‘OPEN’ sign was lit. Not exactly a stellar first impression, but the signboard confirmed it was the right place and everything online said it was the best. And she refused to settle for anything less than the best.
Two of the three parking spots were already occupied when she pulled in. One was a sleek modern model with half its panels painted a gaudy gold, and the other was a chopper with so much bone detailing it looked like it’d been built from chrome skeletons.
Macabre, but she could appreciate the message it sent.
Following their example, she chained her bike to a nearby post and primed the anti-theft alarm to its most sensitive setting. Once she was sure it was secure, she headed inside.
The first thing she noticed was that, in place of the usual chime, the door announced her presence with the sound of a Rottweiler growling. Charming.
The second thing she noticed was the absolute mountain of a man crammed behind the counter. He was massive in every direction: seven feet tall easily and built like a refrigerator. She could barely imagine him fitting through his own front door. Size aside, he was every inch the image of an aging biker. A band t-shirt with ripped off sleeves under a jean vest, bandanna and sunglasses indoors, and a long greying moustache that matched his ponytail and hung down like a pair of misplaced horns.
He barely spared her a glance before turning back to the magazine that looked like a toy in his hands. “I think you’re in the wrong place, girlie.”
Any good impressions she had were ruined in that moment. “I don’t think I am,” she challenged.
He rolled his eyes, licked his fingers, and turned a page. “Then you don’t think very well,” he growled out. “This is Dragonback Motors. We don’t deal with mopeds or vespas here. Get lost and try somewhere uptown. That'll be more your speed.”
Fire burned under her skin. How dare he deny her. “Look, grease-for-brains—”
“It’s Torch.”
“I know what I said,” she spat. She stomped forward, putting emphasis on each step as she crossed the distance, never once breaking eye contact. “The only reason I bothered to come out to your grungy little store is because everyone says this place is the best. I don’t need some washed-up old has-been telling me where I can and can’t shop just because I’m clearly doing better than he is. I’m here because my Panther can’t get above thirty without sounding like it’s about to rip itself into scrap and I don’t trust any of those slick garages to not overcharge me on a repair I could do myself.” She reached the counter and planted both palms on it, her face as close to his as she could get without a ladder. “So are we gonna have a problem or are you going to sell me what I need?”
Torch’s eyes remained locked on hers, dim yellow-orange discs behind his shades. She refused to look away. She knew she would win. This same tactic was what got her an apartment, her motorcycle, and a bank account without anyone pressuring her for proper documentation. It’d work on some over-the-hill biker.
After a long moment, he finally spoke. “You said you ride a Panther?”
She did not blink. “That’s right.”
“A 280?”
“Yeah, what about it?”
He held her gaze for a moment, then snorted and looked away. “Kiddie wheels.” He held up a massive hand to forestall her protest. “But it’s still better than a moped. GIRL!” The shout caught her off guard, though it didn’t seem to be directed at her. “I’m going on break! You take this one!”
After a few seconds, there came a reply from somewhere behind the Employees Only curtain. “Shove it up your exhaust, old man!”
Torch growled, then barked: “Out here! Now!”
“I’m busy!”
“Too busy to do your cracking job?!”
“That’s right!”
He turned to Sunset—“Don’t go anywhere.”—then stomped back into the back of the shop, each step rumbling the building.
Sunset waited, caught somewhat flat-footed by the turn of events. Muffled shouting came from behind the curtain, along with the sound of something being thrown. Then, sudden silence.
Abruptly, the curtain was pulled aside and a girl emerged.
Sunset pegged her as being about her age, maybe a few years older. It was still hard to tell with humans when they weren’t either super old or literal foals. She was tall—not as tall as her boss, but tall enough Sunset still had to look up—with a short fringe of dark blue hair. She wore a leather jacket, much like Sunset’s own, but in deep Prussian blue with a single curved spike coming off either shoulder. On her neck she wore a wide choker set with a large gem and patterned with stylized claw marks. She completed the look with heavy eyeshadow and a scowl that could strip the paint off sheet metal.
Sunset disliked her immediately.
“Yeah?” The girl asked, making even the simple word sound like acid. “What do you want? We don’t carry vespa parts and we don’t fake state inspection stickers.”
Old instincts made her reach for magic she no longer had. Though it failed, she still imagined a fireball immolating the girl. Or at least scorching her enough to teach her a lesson. "A little respect would be nice."
Instead of char, all she got was a smirk. "Sorry, fresh out. But I know we've got a pair of these in stock." She held up a pair of single digits, in case her opinion of Sunset wasn't already abundantly clear.
"Real nice. Are you even trying to run a store here or do you just want to scare me away from your drug-running front?"
"Oh Cerberus's teats, I wish we were running drugs. That would make getting through the day so much easier." She rested one elbow on the table and let her head sag into her hand. "But I bet that wouldn't do much to get rid of you, would it? You look like the type that'd go for a key bump or two. Sneak into some college parties, maybe."
Sunset fought back her growing ire. Clearly the girl was trying to get a rise out of her, but she refused to give her the satisfaction.
"Is there anyone more helpful here that I can work with?"
"Nope. Just me and the old man. How helpful I am depends on how bored I am." She checked her chipped nails. "The answer is pretty bored. And since I'm apparently not allowed back in the break room till you buy something or leave, I literally have nothing better to do than wind up some prissy wannabe who thinks she knows bikes."
She was insufferable. Absolutely insufferable. But she'd set a challenge and Sunset refused to lose. "Look. I don't want to be here. You clearly don't want me to be here. Just sell me what I want and we can end this farce."
"Like it’s that easy. I bet you can't even tell what's wrong, let alone what you'd need to fix it, and you'd probably break a perfectly good ride if you tried. Just go to some uptown garage and have them fix it for you."
Sunset slammed her palms on the counter. She could take a lot but a direct insult to her intelligence was a step too far. "I know what's wrong. I know my engine's overheating and building up residue cause my intake valve's a piece of imported garbage. I've done my research. I know my bike. And I know what I need to fix it is a P00C9 Umahou replacement valve kit. Or, better, a P00G9 upgrade kit, but I wouldn't expect you to actually have one that specialized in stock! So are you going to give me what I need?"
By the end of her rant she was breathing heavy and standing on her tiptoes to yell in the girl's face. She quickly tried to regain her composure, taking a step back and slowing her breathing.
"Huh." That was the reply she got. Not a hint of the cowering she usually expected. If anything the girl looked impressed. "So you actually do know your stuff. Color me surprised. But you don't want a P00C9.”
Sunset bristled. “I just said—”
"I know, and you’re wasting your money. A C9 is what the company recommends for a Panther, and the G9 is the usual upgrade, but they’re both total garbage. They make them cheap and either one’ll wear out your exhaust filters like cheap vinyl. No, what you want is an Epikey 140K. It’s a different brand and you’ll need a small converter to make it fit a Panther’s housing, but you won't be back here in six weeks spewing black smog with your filters corroded to dust."
She narrowed his eyes at the suspiciously sudden 180 in temperment. “Sounds like you're just trying to upsell me.”
The girl snorted and rolled her eyes. "Barely. It’s like an extra ten bucks on what you would have paid anyway. I don't really care whether you buy it or not; you think I make commission? I’m getting paid minimum wage all the same." She stilled and her voice took one firmer edge. "I just don’t like seeing rides mistreated by people who don't know how to care for them."
It wasn't often that Sunset found herself having to reassess someone. First impressions usually told her all she needed to know. But under the abrasiveness she could recognize the signs of an expert in her field, sick and tired of fielding novice questions from rank amateurs who thought they knew more than she did. She'd been on the other side of that interaction far too many times back in Princess Celestia's school. And after years of dealing with nobles and their court intrigue, she could appreciate the straight talk once her competence was recognized.
Maybe it wouldn't be impossible to work with her after all.
“I’m also looking to get some custom work done. New leather, in my colors. Maybe some etching and embossing, if the price is right.”
"We can do that. Not gonna be cheap. You sure your daddy’s chequebook can handle it?"
“I can handle it just fine.” Sunset countered. Upon further consideration, she decided that this seemed like the kind of place that would look the other way for some odd currency. (Plus, she wanted to put her on the backhoof for once.) “You take gold?”
“Do we look like a pawn shop?”
The girl was still chuckling as Sunset pulled out three gold bits each the size of a hydrox cookie. "I don't know. Do you?"
Her eyes lit up almost as fast as her hand snatched the coins from Sunset's. “We take it now.” She stepped back and lifted up the counter's barrier. “Come on back to the studio and we’ll hammer out a design. Pops does all the custom work. Just don’t trip over any of the merchandise back there; you break it, you buy it.”
She pulled aside the curtain and flashed a toothy grin. "By the way: the name’s Ember. Don't forget it."
And she hadn't. That first visit had turned into repeat visits to get the custom work completed and installed, then visits for more upgrades, then eventually visits just to hang and shoot the breeze. Begrudging respect grew into friendship and, over time, the start of something more.
And now she was here: on Lookout Point at a quarter to ten on a Saturday night, waiting for her girlfriend to tell her some big secret so they could make things "officially official".
She wasn't nervous, but she'd be lying if she said there wasn't a small worm of worry writhing around inside her.
But whatever it was that was so important, she'd soon find out.
"Ember?" she called out. "Are you here?"
Her bike was parked, and there weren't that many places to hide unless she'd climbed higher up through the brush, dangled down over the cliff, or concealed herself behind the small copse of trees.
It was the trees that spoke. "I'm here. Did you come alone?"
There was something odd about her voice, but she dismissed it. "Of course. You said you had something important to tell me?"
The sound of a deep breath came from the shadow of the trees. "I did. I'm… buck, I've never had to explain this to anyone before and I don't know where to start."
"Well, you could start by facing me. Or am I going to spend the night talking to a shrub?" Sunset took a few steps forward.
"Don't come any closer!" The words were rushed, an order bordering on panic. Sunset stopped.
"Ember, is everything okay? You're starting to freak me out a little."
The moon went behind a cloud, leaving the area lit only by the dim light cast from the city below.
Something moved in the trees. A figure, a shadow.
"My family is… not normal." The voice was Ember's, but also not. Rougher, somehow. "We don't know what's so special about us or why it happens to some family members but not others, but it's been going on for more generations than we have records for."
This was getting ridiculous and Sunset had had enough. "Alright, cut the drama student shtick. Whatever it is you've got going on, I can promise you I've seen weirder. There is nothing you can show or tell me in the next five minutes that'll change the way I feel about you."
Silence, for a long moment. And then, softly, "I really hope that's true."
A shadow moved in the darkness, sticks cracking as they came closer. Two steps, three, four. The figure stepped out of the forest and…
It was Ember. Normal, slightly-nervous-looking Ember. The only unusual thing was that the choker she always wore was instead in her hand.
"Soooo… what was—" Sunset started.
Then the full moon came out from behind the cloud.
The transformation was paradoxically as quick as it was slow. What felt like minutes couldn't have lasted more than thirty seconds. Ember’s body warped and surged, first where the light touched it then radiating outward in uneven waves of growth. Bones crunched in sickening snaps as they shifted and twisted, muscle pulsating and rippling with each visible pulse of change. Fingers thinned as her nails lengthened into claws fit to shred and tear. Blue fur covered her like some magical moss, growing thicker and darker with each lumbering footstep she took.
She'd been tall before but now she loomed over Sunset, orange eyes gleaming in the dark as moonlight glinted off teeth like steak knives. Great clouds of mist billowed with each halting breath.
"This is it." Her voice rolled like gravel thunder, familiar and foreign all at once. "This is who… what I really am."
Sunset stood, frozen, before the inhuman titan that had once been her girlfriend. Her heart pounded in her chest. A thousand thoughts raced through her mind. She looked up, up, up into those piercing orange eyes and said…
"Okay."
Ember stumbled. Sunset reflexively put up her hands to help catch her and got a fistful of fur.
'Wow, that's soft.'
Ember recovered quickly, but the spell had broken and the gravitas of the moment had been lost. "Okay?"
Sunset rallied quickly, worried she'd offended. "I mean, yeah? Okay. That's pretty cool."
Ember gave her a look like she'd just watched her bite into an onion like an apple. "You aren’t scared of me?"
Sunset cocked her head to the side. "Should I be?"
"I…yes!" Ember threw her arms up. "Look at me! I'm a werewolf! Why aren't you scared?!"
"It might help if you explained what that is."
"Its-" Ember gave her another look of incredulous disbelief. "A werewolf. How do you not know what a werewolf is? Have you never seen a movie ever?!"
"I've seen movies," Sunset countered. "Just not ones with werewolves in them, apparently." Most of her filmographic viewing history had been historical films and teen movies so she could understand enough to pass as an Earth native.
Ember leaned back and sat down hard on the grass. There was a lost expression on her face, somehow still obvious despite her longer canid features. "That… I don't really know where to go with this now. This was supposed to be a huge reveal that would either scare you off or prove your worthiness to the clan. Werewolves are real. Mythical monsters are real. Magic is real."
Sunset couldn't help but laugh a little. "Well, that last one's hardly a surprise."
"What do you mean?"
She faltered, but it took only a moment's thought to come to a decision. Since it was a night for revelations anyway…
"I guess I have a secret of my own I should share." She closed her eyes and focused deep within herself. Drawing to the surface memories of her friends, she let the emotions of those memories infuse her, fill her, then overflow.
"What are you- gah!"
When Sunset opened her eyes, Ember was rubbing hers. "Warn a girl before you're about to flashbang her!"
"Sorry," she said. "It's a magical aftereffect. Happens whenever I pony up."
"When you what? What’s— oh." Ember blinked at her, clearly taking in the equine ears and tail. With her magic heightened, Sunset realized she could feel the magic within Ember as well. It didn't feel like the Sirens' or any magic she knew from Equestria, but it didn't feel dark either.
"You’re…some kind of horse girl?" Ember ventured. "But not very much? Like, a quarter centaur or something?"
Sunset frowned, but brushed the comment aside. "Calling someone that is actually really offensive where I’m from, but I know you don’t know that so you get a pass. I’m actually a unicorn."
"Pft. Unicorns aren't real."
"Says the werewolf."
"…Alright, fair."
Now came the tricky part. "I'm actually not from this dimension at all. Back home I looked, well, a lot more like what you'd probably expect a unicorn to look like. I can transform a little bit over here, but not all the way."
"Why not?"
"Different worlds, different rules of magic. I'm still learning how it works here. You probably heard the rumors about strange lights and explosions around Canterlot High a few months ago?"
Ember nodded. "Yeah, but the clan confirmed it wasn't us, and there aren't— we didn't think there were any other sources of magic, so we figured it was some kind of government cover up."
"Probably, on some level." Principal Celestia had a surprising amount of pull with the people in suits who came asking questions. "But most of that was me getting… overcharged by a stolen artifact and then…" She trailed off as she was overcome with awareness of the words leaving her lips.
"And then what?" Ember pressed.
"…and then getting blasted by a… giant… rainbow… friendship laser."
'That sounds so much weirder when I have to say it out loud.'
Ember snapped her claws with a sound like a gunshot. "Was that why you suddenly mellowed out so much a few months ago?"
"Yeah, it gave me a chance to really take a hard look at myself and, well, I didn't like what I saw."
"Huh. All this time I thought you just got ahold of some really good weed."
"Em!" She shoved the werewolf, to absolutely no effect.
"Well can you blame me?" Her smirk was somehow identical even with a muzzle. "'Rainbow Friendship Laser' even sounds like a bougie cultivar."
It was like nothing had changed. They exchanged barbs and playful smacks for a few minutes until they both fell apart laughing. Unlike usual, it ended up with Sunset sitting more or less in Ember’s massive lap as they both leaned back to look at the stars.
“So… I guess you’re okay with all this?” The werewolf asked as she played with her girlfriend’s pony ears.
Sunset flicked her ear out of her grip. Again. It tickled. “If you’re asking if I mind a little fur, I’m probably the one girl in Canterlot who’d actually prefer it.” No amount of transformed instincts could ever quite get over how weird it felt for humans to be nearly hairless.
“I’m… happy,” Ember said quietly. “That I didn’t scare you off. I was really worried I might lose you.”
“I wasn’t. I told you there was nothing you could say that would change my mind, and I stand by that.”
She paused a moment as a memory of what had kickstarted this whole revelation drifted through her mind. “Does this change you meeting my friends? They already know about me and some other magical creatures, but it won’t really change much if you want to keep your furry side secret.”
Ember’s claws stopped playing with her ears. Sunset found she missed the sensation. “I’ll think about it. We normally don’t tell anyone outside the clan, but if they’re your friends and they already know about magic… maybe. Though even if you think a werewolf is just a talking dog, they’ll probably know the bloody legends.”
Another memory flashed through Sunset’s mind. “Actually… they might know one already. One of my friends has a dog who can talk. Do you think he could be…?”
“It’s not impossible,” she replied. “We do find lost branches of the family sometimes. How old is he? Like, developmentally, not actually years.”
Sunset thought back to the few conversations she’d had with Spike at the Fall Formal and later between practice sessions for the Battle of the Bands. “Roughly a preteen, I’d say.”
“He could be a lost cousin then. Still too young to transform. My magic wasn’t developed enough to turn fully human until I was about that age.”
A piece to a puzzle she’d nearly forgotten about snapped into place. “Is that why your house doesn’t have any pictures of you as a kid?”
Ember laughed. “It does, you just probably didn’t realize they were of me.” She stopped laughing slowly, then stood up, prompting Sunset to do the same. Some of that unfamiliar hesitance was back, not as badly as before she revealed her true nature, but still. “I can show you, but only if you promise not to laugh.”
It was an easy answer. “I promise.”
She took a few steps back. “Fair warning, I sometimes get a little… affectionate when I go full feral.”
Ember’s second transformation was far more fluid and calm than the first. Less like a piece of clay being forced into a new shape and more like a complex origami unfolding to reveal a second form.
She wasn’t quite a wolf, as Sunset had expected from the name, but she was definitely canid. Long and lithe limbs, tight with muscle that was barely glimpsable beneath a thick two-toned blue coat. She didn’t look like any one specific breed Sunset knew. The closest she could compare her to might be a saluki, but one tall enough to come up to her chest and with a longer, fluffier coat. In an odd way, now that she was quadruped, Ember’s build almost reminded her of some of the leggy, socialite unicorns she knew from back home. Which was causing a lot of confusing feelings.
There wasn’t much of the human identifiable in the dog… except for her eyes. Her eyes were exactly the same.
Sunset sought the words to capture her feelings.
‘Don’t say she’s adorable. Do notsay she’s adorable.’
The right words.
“You’re… majestic.”
Ember snorted, then shook herself, sending her coat and long ears rippling through the air like a shampoo commercial. “That’s a new one.” She pawed over and worked her head under Sunset’s hand. “Scritches.”
“What?”
“Scritches. Now.”
Sunset obliged, and in moments her girlfriend was reduced to putty in her hands.
“Oh yeah. Oh, that’s the stuff. Right there, don’t stop.”
Sunset couldn’t help but smile at the sudden personality change. Or maybe, just the sudden loss of inhibition. Then a devilish idea came to her.
“Hey, how’d you like to pull a prank on my friends?”
Ember’s ears perked up. “I’m listening.”
Rainbow Dash tapped her foot in impatience. “Where are they?”
“I’m sure they’re on their way,” Rarity answered from the nearby picnic table. “While I can’t say much for this supposed girlfriend we’ve never met, Sunset’s not the type to stand us up. Why not run a few laps around the park to burn a few minutes?”
“I’m not a dog, Rares.”
“C’mon,’ Applejack hopped off her bench. “I’ll run ‘em with you.”
“Okay!”
“Wait! I see her!” Pinkie poked her head out of a nearby tree, binoculars glued to her face. “She’s coming down the path!”
“At last!” Rarity rubbed her hands together with a frankly villainous grin. “Can you see her beau yet? I need details!”
“Nnnnnope!” She pressed a second pair of binoculars to the lenses of the first. “But I think Fluttershy’s about to get excited!”
“Oh?” The girl in question looked up. “Why?”
“Cause Sunset’s bringing a big ol’ doggo with her!”
