There was a crash in the front hall and, for better or worse, Rarity went to investigate. The best case scenario was a clumsy customer, while the worst usually involved Sweetie Belle and the Cutie Mark Crusaders. She left her work desk behind, overflowing with the mess that a new project brought. It made her itchy and unable to sit still, like she couldn’t relax until it was done. Fixing her smile and composing herself, she crossed the threshold into the front entrance to see what waited for her. Unexpected only began to describe it.

There was a stallion in the boutique, not exactly a stranger, but barely an acquaintance either. She wasn’t even fully sure of his name, only that he had recently moved to Ponyville. The stallion was rather handsome, with a deep chestnut brown coat and a dark and regrettably shaggy mane. A neat little green bow tie and collar adorned his neck. He stood beside an overturned mannequin, looking at her sheepishly, guiltily. Glittering gems that had snapped off the garment lay scattered across the floor. Opalescence gave him a dirty look as she passed through on the way to her bowl.

She had run into him once before at Twilight’s library, and again at Sugar Cube Corner. Both times he had been there at just the right moment. At the bakery, she had bumped into a display case, and he had swooped in to catch the pie and its glass case. The library had been the first and only time they had spoken. It had been raining, storming in fact by the time Rarity was ready to leave. She was more than ill-prepared for the unexpected weather. She was using her magic to levitate the saddlebag above her head and contemplating the long, wet walk home when the stallion appeared.

“Lovely weather today, eh?” He had said, his voice lilting and playful.

“Oh yes,” she had responded miserably. “Simply marvelous. A beautiful day in palatial Ponyville.”

“Would you like to use this?” He pulled out a simple black umbrella from his bags. “I don’t need it. I much prefer the feeling of the fresh rain.” His eyes were a smart, penetrating blue. He was looking at her, searching for something in her eyes.

She broke his intense eye contact uncomfortably. “Oh, that is terribly kind of you. I would hate to put such an imposition on you.”

“No imposition. I’ll tell you what- You can owe me a favor. How about that?”

Rarity bit her lip and stared out into the rainy, gloomy evening. She had just gotten her mane done, and it would be next to impossible to get an appointment to fix it anytime soon. Besides, she didn’t know how seriously to take him. He seemed like he was in on some joke that she wasn’t.

Ultimately she had accepted the umbrella and they parted ways. That had been a few weeks ago and she had only seen him in passing since then. Until now, that was.

“Ahh, Miss Rarity,” he said, one hoof awkwardly behind his head. He knew her name, and that left her at a disadvantage. “Good afternoon. Sorry about the mess.”

Rarity used her magic to gather up the gems, mercifully unbroken and place them safely in one of the empty bins. The stallion watched with great interest as she did so, his eyes following the stones. “No trouble. How can I help you today? Are you looking for something in particular? I have a lovely little selection of bowties.”

“Really? You know, I have been in need of- no! There is no time. Rarity, I need your help.”

“Well, I offer several services. Which do you need? Tailoring and repairs, embroidery and monogramming-”

“No! I mean, no it’s not anything like that. Well, it is fashion-related. But I don’t need your help with my clothes or anything like that. I need you to be a judge in a fashion show. Fashion Wars. It’s a big deal, or it will be in a bit. Really big.”

Rarity froze, a mix of emotions washing over her, starting with excitement and ending with confusion. Just who was this stallion? She took a moment to take in about him. Long ago she had learned that a careful glance could tell you a lot about a pony. Coquetting a little could earn a few more moments to study them. His cutie mark was an hourglass. She knew a thing or two about being misjudged based on cutie mark alone and tried not to judge a book by its cover. Still, his cutie mark didn’t answer any more questions than it raised.

“Oh my,” she said feeling a touch lightheaded. “Could we perhaps slow down a little?”

“Preferably not.”

“I am flattered by your offer, truly honored, darling, but I do not even know your name, let alone why you would be asking me to be a judge for a contest I’ve never heard of.”

“We didn’t do this bit already? Damn, could have sworn we did. Ah well. The Doctor, at your service.”

“Doctor? Doctor who?”

“Whooves, actually. Or Time Turner, sometimes. But I quite like ‘The Doctor’ it has a nice ring to it, doesn’t it?”

“What are you a doctor of?”

“Oooh now that is a tricky question. Time, I suppose.”

“Well Doctor,” said Rarity, her patience ebbing. Just because she was the Element of Generosity didn’t mean that she enjoyed being taken advantage of. Had Sweetie and the CMC put this poor pony up to one of their pranks? “Again, I am deeply flattered but I’m afraid I must decline. I am simply far too overwhelmed with my work at the moment.”

“No, no, no! You don’t understand it has to be you. No other pony will do.” For a moment, anger flashed in his eyes, and he seemed incredibly frustrated. Rarity took an unconscious step back, but just as quickly his calm was restored and his eyebrows raised. As though he had come to some conclusion, or decided upon something. The stallion, Doctor Whooves, dug into his simple leather saddlebag and removed a small booklet. He flipped it open and placed it on the display table beside them.

“But Miss Rarity, the planning board asked for you specifically by name. The contestants and fans are going to be rather upset if you don’t come.”

She inspected the paper with a critical eye, and came away feeling certain it was authentic. An invitation from the planning board of Fashion Wars, and a plea for Rarity to judge it. If it wasn’t a legitimate appeal, then she didn’t know what was, complete with logos and signatures. The original spark of excitement flickered back to life in her chest, albeit much more apprehensively. Not every question was answered yet.

“I suppose I cannot deny that you have piqued my interest. Perhaps my schedule could be adjusted, under the right circumstances of course. Just where is this Fashion Wars being held? I don’t mean to be rude. You must understand that I am quite plugged into the fashion world and I’ve never heard of show before.”

“Just outside Fillydelphia. Nothing more than a long weekend. This weekend specifically. Plus, you’d be treated as a guest of honor: hotel suite, dinners, all accompanying accouterments. Please, Miss Rarity, you’d be doing me a great favor.”

“I do owe you for the umbrella.”

“For the what?”

“The umbrella? At the library?”

“Oh. Oh yes, right. The umbrella. Of course,” he laughed, a little too loudly. “Anyway, what do you say?”

She used righting her fallen mannequin as an excuse to consider. She was not being 100% honest when she said she was overwhelmed with work, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t busy either. There was work to do, alterations waiting for her, and half-finished projects gathering dust. Still, her name had gotten well known enough for her to be requested by this show, even if it was a tiny, yet-unknown affair. The major shows, magazines, and movie studios weren’t exactly breaking down her doors. If she refused this offer, which had practically fallen into her lap, then she might be missing out on some crucial exposure for Carousel Boutique.

“If, perhaps, one was interested… how would one travel to this Fashion Wars? Did the planning board include a ticket?”

He propped his forelegs up on the righted mannequin, looking at her across its back with excitement. Something dangerous shimmered mischievously in his emerald eyes. “I’ll take you. You see, I have been tasked with your delivery. Let’s just say that I have some friends on said planning board. I’m repaying a bit of a debt, solving a problem, you know how it is. I live in Ponyville, you live in Ponyville, it seemed only natural. Meet me at my house at the start of the weekend, and we’ll be on our way. So, what do you say?”

His response surprised her a bit, and he had answered her most burning questions. Was this an opportunity she could really afford to pass up? At worst it would be a mini vacation, but at best…

“I thought you were just going away for a couple of day, Rarity. Do you really all of this?” Twilight asked as she trotted beside her friend. Spike was following slowly behind, struggling with a massive stack of luggage. The unicorns used their magic to haul even more. It was early in the morning, the sun not fully risen, and Ponyville still mostly asleep.

Rarity laughed, tipping her head back so her curls bounced. “Oh Twilight, don’t be silly. This is packing light. This is a fashion event, and one simply must put her best hoof forward. Especially a judge!”

“Yeah, I guess. Speaking of being the judge, weren’t you just telling me the other day that you’ve never even heard of this show before? Don’t you know, like, every fashion event in Equestria?”

“Don’t be reductive, darling. Yes, I will admit that I was a bit hesitant at first, but I think this will prove to be a net positive for me. You have to be willing to take these kinds of risks, especially as a small business owner. Small events can become major ones overnight, and with the right kind of guests.”

“Well, you do make a fair point. No offense though, Rarity, but why do they want you to judge?”

Rarity shot Twilight a dirty look over her sunglasses. “The Doctor did not tell me that, but he did say that the planning board asked for me by name. Maybe they were scouting Equestria for up and coming talent, or maybe they attended a different show with my fashion on display. Does it really matter?”

They had arrived to the address that the Doctor had given her. Rarity tapped on the door with her hoof and heard a distant, muffled, “be there in a tick!” from the other side. Spike dropped the luggage and fell back heavily against he so that he was sitting, exhausted.

“Just who… is this… Doctor anyway…?” He asked between pants.

“He just moved to town,” offered Twilight. “Though, I thought he said his name was Time Turner. He’s a horologist.”

“A… what now?”

“It means he works with clocks. I wonder what a clock maker has to do with fashion. I also wonder why he calls himself the Doctor.”

“Maybe it’s a stage name,” said Rarity. There was a slightly sharper tone than usual to her voice, a bit more tension. She loved Twilight, truly she did, but the questions were starting to grate on her. This wasn’t like a novel with a perfect little mystery to solve, it was an opportunity. Warts and all.

Almost on cue, the door between them flew open with a smack. The Doctor stood in the doorway and flashed them a charming, charismatic smile. “Lovely day. Ahh, Miss Sparkle! I don’t believe that I have any overdue books, so I hope that isn’t the reason for your… unexpected appearance.”

“Hello, Time Turner,” Twilight responded pointedly. “No, I’m not staying, or playing librarian on a mission. Just helping Rarity with her things.”

The Doctor peeked around them to where Spike was still collapsed against Rarity’s mountain of luggage. He let out a short, impressed whistle. “Why don’t you bring that inside while we wait for our transportation?”

“Come along, Spikey,” said Rarity as she entered his home. Spike let out a long groan, and began the arduous task.

“Sooo…” said Twilight, drawing out the word. “Just how are you traveling to Fillydelphia? Not the train, clearly.”

“Oh there is more than one way to travel, Miss Sparkle. We’ll be using a, er, private service.”

“Right. Are you going to be bringing her back too?”

“Naturally. Please, Miss Sparkle, you don’t need to worry. I can deliver her safely into your loving hooves at the weekend… ah end. The weekend’s end that is.”

There was a loud clatter from inside as Spike tripped on the carpet and fumbled the luggage. A big grandfather clock crashed to the ground with a CLANG! The Doctor turned sharply around, and Spike backed quickly out the door. He grabbed Twilight by the wing and dragged her struggling with him.

“Wait, Spike I wasn’t done-” she protested.

“Have a safe trip, Rarity! See you soon! Sorryabouttheclock!” Spike called hastily back and threw the door shut.

The Doctor ducked his head down low and used his neck and shoulders to heft the clock back up with practiced ease. The clock made another, much smaller, clang as it settled into place and then began to tick at a steady pace once more.

“Can’t see the point in a clock that can’t take a knock. Rhymed that one, eh? I suppose this makes us square for the mannequin I knocked over in your shop.”

“You actually did me a favor with that. I was trying something new with affixing those gems, and it clearly wasn’t working.”

“I see. So, your magic, it’s gem based then? Or fashion?”

Rarity glanced back at her Cutie Mark. “Something like that.”

There was a knock at the door and Rarity was spared from continuing the conversation. She got enough of that from Sweetie Belle. Rairty could never find the right words to describe it, and she knew it left her little sister sometimes more confused than comforted. Anway, she had magic, and while it wasn’t as powerful as Twilight’s, it was more than serviceable for her needs.

“I brought that thing you ordered, Doctor,” came a familiar voice from outside the door.

“Ahh, yes. Thank you, Derpy,” replied the doctor, taking the package she handed him. “Come in, come in. It’s nearly time to go, you know. But first, let’s make a cup of tea for the road.” As if on queue, a tea kettle let out a piercing cry from the other room.

“Hi, Rarity!” Derpy said cheerfully.

“Good morning, darling. Are you coming with us to Fashion Wars?”

“Oh no. The Doctor just needs your help this time.”

“My help?”

“Judging the show, she means!” The Doctor called from the kitchen.

“You’re going to be judging the show too?”

“It’s a, uh, last minute change. Just told me this morning. I’m more of a bonus judge, for the final round. That’s the most important one, so they need extra judges to make sure it’s fair.”

“What an… interesting innovation.” Experimental didn’t mean bad, it just meant something new. It could turn out to be the next big thing.

The Doctor entered with a tray of tea cups and set it on the cluttered table. His house wasn’t exactly dirty, there weren’t cobwebs or piles of trash, but it was full of things. Little bits and bobs screws, gears, books, papers, glass tubes, wires, all manner of stuff. It made Rarity feel itchy, a need for organization boiling just under the surface. She repressed it, even as she watched the tea cups balance precariously on a stack of books, catching the most suspect one with her magic and pulling it close.

“Would you like some lemon for your tea or milk?” Asked the Doctor. “Derpy! Don’t drink that!” The gray mare froze, teacup held just before her mouth. “The, uh, the cup. The cup wasn’t cleaned. Why don’t you come with me to the kitchen real quick and we’ll get another one. Miss Rarity, there help yourself.”

Rarity watched, a growing sense of unease stirring in her stomach. She added milk and sugar to her cup and stirred briskly with the little spoon. It had an ornate T design on the bottom. Spike had been onto something: who was this Doctor? She took a sip of the tea. It was hot, but pleasantly so, and had the bright tang of black tea. It was excellent.

If Derpy trusted him, then the Doctor couldn’t be that bad. The pegasus may have been a few apples short of a bushel, but she wasn’t a fool. Still, she would be making a point of asking the Doctor, or Time Turner, or whoever he was about himself. Maybe she should get a clock? She took another sip.

Multiple clocks ticked away, on the walls and standing. It was sort of rhythmic, like a mechanical heartbeat. She settled into the seat, taking another drink. What was taking them so long? Did Derpy like the Doctor? The thought almost made her want to giggle. He was a handsome stallion, she wouldn’t blame her. Tick, tick, tick. Were the clocks getting louder?

“How are you doing out there, Miss Rarity?” She heard the Doctor call, but he sounded far away. Farther away than just in the kitchen. She opened her mouth to answer but realized she had forgotten the question. Tock, tock, tock. Was her heart beating in time with the clocks?

“D…” Doctor, she tried to say, feeling heavy. She sunk deeper into the couch, wondering if it might swallow her whole. Two figures appeared before her, or over her. They were blurry, little more than blobs of color. Trying to make out details only made them fuzzier. Tick… tock…

They were talking, but words had started to lose all meaning. Or maybe they were speaking a different language. Or maybe they weren’t speaking at all. She fought her heavy eyelids, the last bit of her clarity willing herself to not slip under. She was lifted, something strong and firm carrying her like a baby. Tick, tock, Rarity. Time to sleep.

Finally, against her will, her eyes closed and Rarity fell into full unconsciousness.

Author's Note

Thanks for reading! I 🤞 hope 🤞to update this bad boy at least once a month.
I have been lowkey plotting this story for a long time, and it's finally time to get it out. I love Rarity, she has been my favorite girl for over a decade, and the fandom can do her so dirty! Not to mention, I'm a rarepair and crackshipper so.... I also just wanted to try my hand at a writing a Doctor Who episode. Hope you stick around.