Sunset Shimmer yearned for some demon battle aftercare. Coming home to her apartment, Sunset held the door and couldn’t help but notice that currently Twilight was Twilight. And Sunset was Sunset. We’re in the right bodies…
We're in the right bodies! Visions sparked up behind her eyes of sloppy makeouts and tongue in new places and what it would feel like to be on top. In her power. The pull on her attention between her thighs felt something like taking a speed bump on her motorcycle at full-tilt.
The shuffle and clunks of an ancient elevator bumped her out of her head. Ornate, rouging ironwork squealed, delighted, as she opened it up. The two doors inside swung both ways (very relatably) as Twilight sensibly muttered, “I could just build you an elevator.”
After Sunset shut the gates, the interior swinging doors settled shut and she tried not to whimper. “But if you do, my rent’s gonna go up.”
Sunset held her breath so that the three button still worked and Twilight snorted. “Aren't you part of a royal family?”
On any other day, Sunset may have come back with cynical snark. Swaying there, replaying everything that happened in the stars and over the course of a very long day, she failed to suppress a smile. “Yeah.” But managed to add. “A girl’s still gotta live.” She waggled her eyebrows at her girlfriend. “Is that your way of asking to move in with me, Sparky?”
Celestia, Twilight was easy to fluster. “Move in? What? I mean, that would be, but I wouldn’t—and I wouldn’t ask like that! Gosh, you’re such a flirt…”
Sunset made a mental note. Get a key cut.
Raw architecture passed in front of them. Quiet thunks echoed back the bizarre enormity of everything that happened that day, all the close calls. Her heartbeat finally spoke its mind. Absurd as it was, all Sunset could focus on was how tight this space was with two people in it. “Speaking of flirt,” Twilight hummed, a grin growing. “We’re in our own bodies now, aren’t we?”
Great minds.Sunset appraised her, mostly just to enjoy the post-battle disheveled view. “So we are.”
Ding!
Flicking on the lights, the remains of her all-night sit-com binge with Timber laid all around the living area, slumped blankets all askew.
As Twilight worked to pull off her clunky winter boots and jacket, Sunset beamed. “Scruffers! Aww, hey bud,” she laughed, scooping him up to cradle him in her arms. His purring radiated through her chest. “Ohhhho-ho, yeah, there’s Mama’s good baby boy. Did you miss me?”
Twilight giggled, and Sunset hoped the heat on her cheeks wasn’t as noticeable as it felt. Her girlfriend gave Scruffers belly scratches. “He’s not the only one.”
“Well, I should fix that, then.” After giving him a proper amount of love, she let Scruffers down who decided it was bathtime. Given how beaten to shreds they both were, Sunset couldn't blame him. Noticing how the dimness of Twilight’s expression and the way each step seemed a bigger burden than the last, Sunset caught her before a wobbly step could send her tumbling. She frowned. “Whoa. Are you okay? You’ve gotta be exhausted.”
Eyes watering, Twilight scoffed. “Am I okay? How are you still conscious?”
“Cheating.” She made a muscle and indeed, most of the soreness that should‘ve been there by now was a distant premonition. “Think I’ve still got some Daydream in my system. Tomorrow’s probably gonna suck pegasis balls but I guess after I ripped open the next dimension, maybe magic takes longer to wear off now.”
While on the subject, Sunset got a lazy idea.
Since Daydream had more strength than her anyway, she let her fire wings re-materialize, flames doused out by floofy, fluffed up feathers. Popping them out felt almost too natural, like whatever metaphysical dimension they were in when they weren't on her back was a little cramped, tied with twine ready to bust.
Gentle not to hold her where she might be bruised, Sunset grunted and scooped her girlfriend by the knees. “Going up?”
Hard-pressed to suppress a smile, Twilight kept her eyes. And kept keeping them. “Show off. Just don't strain yourself, okay?”
Sunset winked. “No promises.”
Shimmer Air made her ascent and the landing was none too turbulent either. Impressive all the more by the chaste kiss that started before take-off and made its way to a full on sloppy make out by the time Sunset set Twilight down on the edge of her bedspread.
Twilight hummed a note of appreciation into Sunset’s lips.
Sunset hovered over her, arms propped up on either side of her girlfriend. “You ready for this, Sparky?”
“Very much yes.” She focused so much on Sunset’s lips she looked almost disappointed that they weren’t currently still kissing. “You have no idea how long I've been thinking about this.”
Sunset chuckled, unbuttoning the dorky sweater vest in her way. “Oh yeah?” Confident she could feel her way past the rest of the buttons on her girlfriend’s dress-shirt at the same time, she treated herself to kissing Twilight’s neck.
A giggle twirled out of Twilight ungracefully. “Yeah. You could say I've been fascinated by the subject. Of you. And me. Together. The whole entire situation, really.” She watched Sunset remove her bowtie. One half of her collar sticking up to her cheek, she looked more than a little frazzled but seemed determined to focus on taking Sunset’s leather jacket off. “I have questions. Are we allowed to talk?”
Sunset raised an eyebrow. “Why wouldn’t we be allowed to talk?”
“Don’t laugh,” Twilight said, laughing. “I’ve never done this before! I don’t want to kill the mood!”
Sunset kissed her. Soft meeting soft. “What do you wanna know?”
A quirk jumped to her lip as she lost a breath. “Okay! Okay, yeah!” Her hands wandered down the slope of Sunset’s side. “Let me know if this isn’t sexy for you, I’ve just always wondered. You’re Equestrian originally. Does that—I mean, you were an entirely different species. That’s still a big part of who you are. How does that work?” Twilight seemed to notice Sunset's affinity for her now partially exposed cleavage. “How does this work for you? If, um, if it does?”
Sunset laughed darkly. Too smart for your own good. “It does.” She took care and worked her way down the button up. “Easy answer? The portal changes more than you’d think. It was confusing at first. Deeply confusing. But the kind of body I like always lines up to the dimension I’m in, you know? I don’t like ponies when I’m human, and vice versa. It’s the only thing that feels right to me. What used to do it for me over there just doesn't seem appealing on this side of things. Am I making sense?”
Twilight nodded, astute and rapt.
“Cool. And it’s not like everything's different. I’m still me. I’m always bi, I always have specific things I want to explore—” Realizing she’d positioned herself on top, Sunset blushed. Nope. Not going there. Not with her first time. “—and, you know, no matter where I am, maybe I've got a bit of a type that I go for.” She pulled Twilight's glasses off in order to steal a kiss. “Multiversal constants, you could say.”
“Thank goodness for those, then,” Twilight breathed, as Sunset took off her shirt. Sunset had to keep her own breathing under control, seeing Twilight’s magenta bra rise and fall with her chest.
Drinking her in, Sunset let her lips guide her. She planned to start easy, a few kisses down the length of the arm, then get a little rough if she got too impatient getting the bra off. Be gentle… I can do gentle. Stick to gentle.
Going to kiss Twilight’s arm, white scars she hadn't noticed before popped out at her. A lot of them. All over her hands too, if she really looked for it. Rubbing a long one with her thumb, Sunset tried not to let the downturn of something in her chest steal her attention. “... Demon battles have been pretty rough on you, huh?”
Twilight blushed. “Oh, no, that’s not—I just get a lot of nicks and cuts in the lab. Most of it doesn’t leave a mark, it’s not that dangerous, really. And I always follow proper procedure and have first aid on hand if ever anything goes wrong! But I guess it doesn't look too appealing…”
Naturally, Sunset then made it her mission to kiss every scar she could find. She held Twilight by the wrist to give her better access to the under-arm and heard a little appreciative noise that stirred her on.
Somewhere along the way, Twilight helped her tug her own shirt off to even the playing field. Sunset was just glad she’d worn one of her good bras today, not the rattier ones she needed when she hadn't done laundry in a while.
The arm Sunset was intent on kissing stiffened. “Oh, gosh…”
Something in her tone stopped Sunset’s hands from unclasping Twilight’s bra. “What’s wrong, babe?”
Being as busy as she had been, Sunset hadn’t necessarily taken the time to give her own body a once-over since the whole demon battle fiasco. Sitting shirtless on her bedspread, she finally had a chance to really get a look at herself. Her skin was paler and more… purple than she remembered, nicks and cuts tracing skating-rink scuffs into her soft stomach, and a nasty looking gash in her side seemed too painless not to be painted on. Daydream powers.
“Tartarus. Well, that’s gonna hurt tomorrow,” she grumbled, at least grateful the magic was still powerful enough to have an anesthesia effect. Hopefully nothing first aid couldn’t fix, even if they were pretty tapped out on healing magic tonight. “I’m okay. Don’t worry about—” Looking up, Sunset’s eyes widened.
Tears navigated around the hands latched over Twilight’s mouth. A sharpened gasp behind those hands sent Sunset’s heart spiraling. As Twilight apologized, Sunset grabbed Twilight’s button-up to cover her back up. “Whoa, hey, hey, hey, what’s going on?”
Head buried in Sunset’s shoulder, Twilight whined. “I don’t want to ruin our night. I’ve been trying so hard not to think about it.”
“Think about what?”
“Sunset… you died.” The tightening grip around Sunset’s torso shot the air out of her lungs.
Sunset scrunched up her nose. “I don’t know if I’d call it dying.”
“You were incinerated! I’ve never been so afraid of losing anybody.” Sunset pressed Twilight closer, who wiped at her eyes. The sound of her laddered, laboured breath pinched a valve in Sunset’s heart. “Oh god, I’m so sorry.”
“What? You don’t have to be sorry,” Sunset said, rubbing her back. “Why would you be sorry?”
“If I’d noticed you struggling sooner—”
“I probably would’ve still been in deep denial. I’ve been really pig-headed,” Sunset told her, settling into the crook of her neck. “Everybody’s safe. Our friends, you and me. We’re all okay, aren’t we?” Hearing Twilight gasp, Sunset held her closer. Not everybody.
The hug lasted a long time. Enough to savour the direct heat of having this much skin to skin contact for the first time in their relationship. It was soothing, vitalizing, but Sunset focused mostly on the circles she rubbed into Twilight’s back with her fingertips even when her hand started to cramp.
When they finally pulled back, Sunset kept her arms around her girlfriend to demonstrate that she still had a body to use in the first place. Twilight groaned, smearing the tears off her cheeks. “Guess there goes our first time.”
Sunset rubbed Twilight’s thigh and shrugged. “I wouldn’t say so. I mean, it’s our first try, but we didn’t do anything, so it’s not our first time.” She leaned into a smirk. “And I can guarantee there'll be other nights I'll be down bad for you.”
“But I was so ready—or, I mean, I thought I was. I really did!” The frustrated noise that came out of her was adorable but Sunset thought it would be condescending to say so right now. “I've been thinking about this for so long, of course I start crying the minute I can actually have it.” Twilight wiped her eyes again, muttering, “Stupid anxiety…”
“Hey, so what? It’s always okay if it’s a no. Even if it started as a yes.”
“Are you disappointed?”
Sunset wanted to lie. “... a little, yeah. But I’m a big girl. I can take it.” She let her hand rest over Twilight’s on the bed. “Look, we've been through so much today. Like, I don’t know how it all fit in one day so much. No wonder you're exhausted and overwhelmed. That’s a normal reaction, it’s weirder not to be messed up about it!”
After the words came out of her mouth, Sunset saw her girlfriend eyeing her curiously.
“... I guess wild, mind-blowing sex was a little optimistic,” Twilight allowed.
Sunset nodded, sage and wise. “We'll be instantly amazing at sex another night. That’s also definitely how it works.” She flicked her head and jacked a thumb back towards the bed. “You wanna just cuddle for a bit then get to bed early?”
Twilight moaned in terrible ecstasy. “That sounds amazing.”
Somehow, Sunset had thought she could get away with Twilight not treating her wounds. Sex-brain (or almost sex brain) was pretty dim. Magic was off the table, without question, but humans had a few tricks of their own. Snipping the gauze, Twilight taped Sunset up. At that point, Sunset didn’t feel like putting a shirt back on, which seemed just fine by Twilight.
Once situated under the covers, Sunset felt the gratitude washing over her. She pushed off the little tugs down south that begged for more. That could wait. Holding her girlfriend to her chest felt like the most right thing in the world.
Ear pressed to Sunset’s chest, Twilight murmured, “... will you still be here in the morning?”
Sunset blinked. “Uh… I might get us some coffee and donuts from Joe’s. You'll probably wake up before me anyway. Why?”
Twilight rubbed her chest on the left side. “No, I mean. When your Daydream magic wears off. Is that… keeping you alive?”
For a moment, Sunset was taken aback, mostly because she hadn’t considered the possibility. “No, I’ll be okay, I mean…” Was that keeping her alive? Was her new body propped up by magic? You really are too smart for your own good… “I guess I don’t know,” she admitted to the ceiling. The fan swung above them. “... gotta love magic powers, huh?”
SEVERAL MONTHS EARLIER…
Magic and power. The bane of her existence, even after all this time. The trees collecting colours on Canterlot High’s campus should have clued her in. Her eighteenth birthday last week should have clued her in, falling smack dab on the autumn equinox. Sunset had to have known it was coming up. No good excuse for her to lose track of time like this and yet...
And yet.
The school’s bulletin board didn’t usually root passersby in place three floors deep, as far as she knew. At most, the fliers for the bake sale, handbills for Canterlot Community College, or the tear-off numbers on Flash’s guitar lessons would snag a cursory peek on the way into the cafeteria. Fact sheets against the evils of teenage drug use hardly got a second glance by her estimation. But now, overpowering all the rest by sheer dimension, she was transfixed by a large poster for this year’s Fall Formal.
Sunset swore below her breath.
She didn’t want to spend even a moment longer than necessary glancing at it in the event anyone saw her looking, but it was honestly hard to pull herself away. It also didn't help that they still had her old portraits up, which just looked insane. All the goodwill that joking around with Pinkie in art class had built up crumbled with the rest of her mood. They’re still voting on a princess?
“So much has changed since last year.” Twilight approached with hands clasped. “Some of the students who go here now weren’t even around for previous Fall Formals. But all of us have seen how hard you’ve worked to change.” Closing distance between them, Twilight held Sunset by the arm. “Everyone here knows you’re not who you used to be.”
Sunset sighed and met her eyes. “Thanks.” She put on a smile to make it look like she wasn't being sucked into the floor. “You and the girls will have a great time. It’s a fun night. Think I’ll just stay in, spring for an extra-large pizza.”
Nodding, Twilight’s voice fell below the clamour coming from the cafeteria. “Eh, maybe I’ll do the same.” She held one arm with its partner. “Timber bought tickets in advance and I was really looking forward to going together. But now... I’m not so sure I could use them.”
The purple of her eyes dulled. Greyed out. Sunset's heart twisted to see her like that still. She dearly wished there was someone or something to beat up. She felt so powerless to help. Just like she’d felt for weeks now every time her best friend cried into her shoulder.
“Awwwwwwwhat? You two can’t bail!” Rainbow Dash rolled up in her senior year letterman’s jacket as if to demonstrate. “It’s our last Fall Formal!”
Fluttershy ever so lightly elbowed her. “Not that we don’t understand why it would be a sensitive subject for both of you. That would be a lot to deal with, and it’s completely understandable if it’s more healing to avoid the dance.”
Just as Rainbow Dash gave Fluttershy a baffled you’re not helping look, Applejack nodded, arms crossed. “Eeyup. It’s your decision at the end of the day and we won’t judge you one lil’ bit.” Rainbow Dash puffed. AJ ignored her. “But if it helps, anyone who even thinks about bringing up Sunset’s past would have to go through me.” The bicep she made was likely just as strong as the whole rest of Canterlot High combined, and yet AJ had the sweetest, downhome grin.
AJ rubbed the farmer’s tan on the back of her neck. “And, shucks, Twilight, dates aren’t necessary. Plenny a people go with their friends! I’d say darn near everybody in school does and it’s a genuine hoot!” She pronounced the ine in genuine like in the word iodine, cowlick bouncing as she swung her arm.
“Oh yes, mm-hm, it’s a positively fabulous time with friends—but not everyone goes sans romantic accompaniment…?” Rarity cleared her throat. Then cleared it again, much louder, with more force and eyes so pointed they could pop Pinkie’s balloons.
Without a blink in between, Applejack turned that kind smile on her. “Aww, don’t worry, Rarity. Of course, you’ll get a date iffin’ you want one.”
AJ’s bright smile refused to dim even as Rarity's eye-shadowed eyes drew the shades and her humour flatlined. “At this rate, darling, I’m not so sure I will.”
Rainbow Dash shoved her petite frame in between them. “Hey, I'm serious! I could go to the dance with the entire cheer squad on my arm, obviously—” As a member of the cheer squad, Rarity seemed to want to object. “—but this is supposed to be our year! After everything we’ve been through together, this is the first dance all together without magic—” Fluttershy knocked on the wood frame of the bulletin board. “—and you wanna stay in your footie pajamas with your mommies at home??? We should be partying ‘til we can’t see straight!
“No evil magic, no she-said-she-said keeping us apart, we don't even have to worry about Sunset going all mega-evil she-bitch on us!” Even Dash seemed to realize the foul, poor taste in her words. “Whoa. Sorry. Uh. No offence?”
“Offence taken,” Sunset told her, throwing up a middle finger and a smirk. “It has been long enough that that doesn't sting as much as it used to, but I don't know.” She caught passing students eyeing her warily by the sign-up sheet and sunk into her shoulders as she stepped back. “I feel like everybody would be more comfortable if I just stayed home.” Turtle-shelling into the stuck-up collar of her leather jacket, Sunset mumbled, “It’s me. I'm everybody.”
Next thing she knew, she found a blue finger shoved in her face. “That right there's exactly why you should show everybody you're over it! Both of you should! And what better way than by rolling up to the dance in matching suits with your best friends! Eh? Ehhh? Come on, I know you wanna!”
Rainbow gave her a harsh shove, which Sunset gave right back. Sunset could tell Fluttershy was biting back a comment about ‘roughhousing’ in the halls again so she knocked it off (... after socking Rainbow in the shoulder).
Rarity raised an eyebrow. “Matching suits? And you’re telling me you want this now, so close to the dance? Honestly, it’s like you think I can simply poof your ensembles into existence!”
Fluttershy gathered her hands in front of her. “Oh no, we really appreciate all the work you do, Rarity!”
Sunset raised a hand in an I’m good gesture. “Yeah, and I’ll make it easy on you, Rares. You’ve got one less outfit to make.”
“Make that two. I don’t want to be rude to you—or, gosh, Pinkie; she seems like she's really throwing herself into planning this one,” Twilight said, fidgeting with her glasses. The absence of the smell of vanilla frosting and flecks of glitter on everyone else’s clothes would have been unnerving if they didn't know where she was. Although the fact that Sunset saw her earlier sneaking a hard hat from woodworking class into the gym was cause enough for alarm. Twilight collected her arms. “I’m sorry. I-I thought I would be, but I don’t think I’m ready for all that yet…”
Not that she would let it show, but the consequence of being an empath meant that sometimes if the emotions were strong enough? They echoed. Sunset got heartburn from how strongly she could feel the heartache and it killed her to know what she was feeling was just the reverb of the real deal.
After all that progress Twilight had made! All the time spent finally coming out of her shell, all the hard work facing her demons, and putting herself out there. Sunset had been so proud of her. This sucked so royally hard and it wasn’t fair that Twilight put in all that work only to have her heart broken. No one even did anything wrong.
Rarity softened. “Oh, of course, dear. If that’s how you feel. We could forgo the dance altogether and spend the night having a fun sleepover instead. Just us girls!”
The others all nodded, even Dash, tossing in their agreement like they did when pooling their money for fancy restaurant food. Sunset made a mental note to arrange another Rainbooms night out at that surf and turf steakhouse downtown with the good vegan options and butter-rolls.
Twilight picked up on the slight disappointment Rarity was doing her best to hide. She shook her head. “Oh no! Please don’t let me take this away from all of you! I’ll be okay, really. I want you to have a good time.”
“You know, I’m pretty sure we can have a good time no matter what we do together,” Fluttershy said, touching Twilight’s arm.
As reluctant as Dash was, she had to smirk at that. “When it’s us, is that even a question?”
Twilight made a noise akin to the warmth Sunset felt in her gut. “Aw. Well, you’re right about that. But I’d feel so bad the whole night, I don’t want all of you to have to give this up, too. That would actually make me really sad.”
Regressing back to how she used to be was the last thing Sunset wanted for her best friend. And yet, she couldn’t help but be reminded of how Twilight was after the Friendship Games, so overwhelmed and unsure. Except now she did know what more was out there, because it had been taken away.
Some of the steam puffed out of Rainbow Dash, too. Being team captain for just about every sports team in school, she was probably used to team members pushing themselves too hard. She shoved her jaw to one side. “Loud and clear. You’ll be okay,” she promised, her voice a lot softer like a soccer ball in need of pumping up. Which she promptly puffed up. “But don’t think you’re off the hook yet for our mall date, ‘kay?”
“Wouldn’t dream of missing it.” Twilight finally smiled again. “You girls go ahead and reserve our table before Microchips and the rest of the physics club steal it. I just need a minute to grab something from my locker.” She parted from the group, ascending up toward the upper floor where the senior lockers lived.
Sunset frowned after her. A sense of heaviness weighed on her chest and she rubbed at it.
As the others shuffled into the cafeteria, Applejack’s eyebrow snagged her from leaving. “You comin’, Sunset?”
“I’ve got a lunch thing.” Halfway towards the stairs already, Sunset turned to speak to her, walking backwards. “Save Twilight’s seat. She’ll catch up.”
Applejack tipped the brim of her stetson.
When Sunset climbed the stairs, the sound of someone crying in the third floor hallway plunged her heart into dark, arctic waves. She grimaced. “Twilight?”
The hall had emptied out for lunch except for a single locker door sniffling at the end of the hall.
Sunset sighed through her nose.
She came over to take that nerd into her arms and mumbled, “C’mere.”
By all accounts, the forlorn return of that hug was a marginal improvement. There had definitely been times since the breakup when Twilight’s broken sobbing into her made Sunset misty-eyed just to hear. She rubbed up and down the soft fabric of the Twilight’s sweater vest just the same.
And Twilight parted from the hug sooner than she used to, too, lifting her glasses to smear tears out of her flushed eyes. “Guh,” she panted, genuinely returning her focus back to her locker. “What’s wrong with me? I thought I was supposed to be over this by now. Isn’t there a rule about this?”
“Rule?”
“Rarity said the length of the breakup blues should be half the length of the relationship, but Timber and I dated for three months and it’s already been over one point five since we ended things,” her voice stretched itself thin. She looked to Sunset, eyes big, wobbly, and wet. “Should I consult a doctor?”
Sunset’s smile twisted up in sympathy. “Sorry. It doesn’t really work like that. There’s no timeline for when you'll move on.”
Moving on emotionally is what she meant, and contextually that was the only meaning that made any real sense. And yet, all Sunset could hear after she said it was an unspoken yet deafening with someone else.
Twilight conveniently swung a locker door between her and Sunset's stupid blush, thank Celestia.
It wasn’t like she hadn't thought about it. A lot. Before the breakup, during, after. For months on end, cursing out her brain for still being hung up on this. Don’t be so selfish. She's still crying over him. Sunset bit her lip.“Don’t let anyone rush you, least of all yourself. There’s no due date. I wish there was—then I could just tell you when you’d start to feel better.”
“That’s okay,” Twilight told her, even though it was clear in her tone she’d been hoping Sunset would swoop in with a calendar date. “You’ve already been a huge help. I don’t know what I’d do without you and the girls, I’d be a mess! Or, well, even more of a mess,” she chuckled, shaking her head at herself. Then she seemed to consider her next words before venturing toward the subject. “I just wish I knew why my stupid brain is so hung up on this. Can I ask… when did you know you were over Flash? What changed?”
Visions of sloppy rebound make-outs with strangers danced behind her eyes along with spray-painting something obscene on the hood of Flash’s car. Sunset blinked. “Time heals all wounds?”
Twilight groaned, clunking her head against the lockers. “I was afraid you’d say that…”
“Aww, hey, you don’t want to cope the way I did, anyway. I... wasn’t exactly in the healthiest mindset back then, let’s say.” The amount of nerds shoved into lockers rose exponentially in a two week period. Despite how long it’d been and how much she’d changed, memories of how awful she was at the time came speeding back. Sunset leaned up against the lockers beside Twilight’s, arms crossed and brow drawn. “You’re a much better person than I was. It’s not fair you have to feel broken up like this. If I could just feel your heartbreak for you so you wouldn’t have to, I would! I deserve it so much more than you do.”
“Ah-ah-ah! Sunset, no. You promised!” Twilight prodded her in the chest. “You know the rules.”
Enjoying Twilight pinning her against a locker a little too much, Sunset surrendered her hands. “‘No more beating myself up for my past’. You caught me.”
“I’ve got my eye on you, missy.” As Twilight shifted her tone, Sunset was almost disappointed. “Are you doing okay?”
Flashes of how Sunset treated her ex-boyfriend, how she blew up on him and things got nasty when they split. Messy was more than a little generous. In truth, she could hardly imagine anyone she hurt more than the one person who bothered to give her a chance back then. She cannibalized his heart.
“Just thinking, that’s all,” she said, shrugging her shoulders against the locker. Cool girl mystique was a useful tool. “So, okay, I’m busy at lunch, but: after school plans. Do I even have to ask if you’re coming over tonight? At this point should I just give you a key to my apartment, or…?”
Giggling, Twilight bumped her shoulder with her own. “Hey, I could say the same for you, Miss Moved-into-My-Laboratory! But, that would be nice. Having you over again.” Purple eyes popped. “Oh. Unless that was a hint that you want some alone time! I know I have been taking up a lot of your time recently. Kind of… all of it, huh?” She winced, looking back at the calendar in her locker door.
Nerdy as they come, Twilight had long colour-coded her calendar, which would usually be quite the rainbow. Every day or thereabouts now was filled up with at least one flare of red somewhere. Milkshakes with Sunset. Movies with Sunset. Anomalies without time together were getting few and far between and Sunset was surprised that she could remember the disappointment on both of those days when she had to pick up an extra shift to make rent.
“Oh… huh. Wow,” Sunset said, the both of them taking it in. “I was kidding. Hadn’t noticed it was that much.”
Twilight shut the locker as if to avoid drawing more attention to it. “No kidding. Guess I’ve really needed my best friend.” Standing there smiling at each other should probably have gotten old by now. Should’ve. Twilight had to shake her head. “But, really, you can always say no! Just say the word. I don’t want to be clingy.”
“HA! You? Clingy? Looks like my work as your friendship tutor is done, huh?” Earning a snort from Twilight, Sunset swung an arm around her shoulders as they walked down the hall.
Danger and Sunset knew each other well. Walking into enemy territory, probably not her smartest move, but love made a girl do crazy things. Giving herself some credit: She at least had the sense to use the back entrance. The drama room led into the backstage of the gym, which she and her friends made ample use of back when she was a stage manager.
Coming up through the slim border between the back and the stage, relief took the edge off when she saw the stage curtains were drawn. No one had to see her.
Good thing, too. She could hear an assembly’s worth of chatter bubbling through the gym. Sneaking a peek through a slight opening in the curtain, she caught sight of Lyra and Bon Bon manning the voting booth for Princess. She let loose a sigh. The fewer hitches in the coronation process, the fewer bloody footprints to lead back to her.
A light bright enough to smart seared her so suddenly Sunset flinched on instinct. Swears hissed out of her. The Rainbow of Light crashing through her soul reverberated from her memory, breath catching in her throat expecting the burn, but it never came. As sun-spots swam around her eyes, she spotted the source of the assault up in the rafters. Off stage-left, sitting improperly on a platform halfway up that was not meant for sitting, Pinkie Pie leaned out around a pole to wave to her. “Sunset Shimmer! That is you! What are you doing here?”
Noticing the giant shadow she cast over the gym, Sunset eeped and ducked out of the limelight. “Uh, hey, Pinks.” Gathering herself, the bulging fast-food bags crinkled as she wagged them up at her friend, recyclable tray of two drinks in her other hand. “Can I tempt you away?”
If the smell of cheeseburgers wafting up didn’t do the job, then Sunset just had to hope her smile was as charming as she thought it was. Pinkie bit her lip, but tore her eyes from the crew in the catwalk managing the lights. “Nnnn, well, we were going to test out the coloured lights on the discoball to pick out the bestest options, and then I had to call the caterers again because I have sososo many words about their chocolate options. Don’t get me started on their marzipan!”
Sunset stood there. She turned to Neon, Roseluck, and the others up by the accursed lights. “Anybody here think maybe Pinkie could use a break?”
Neon gave a crisp thumbs-up, and Roseluck leaned on the railing. “Hmm, I think things won’t implode over lunch.”
“That’s a plus.” Sunset turned back to her, smiling up. “Well. Survey’s in.”
“Mmmmmmmokay.” Sliding down the ladder like a firefighter down a pole, the pouches beneath Pinkie’s eyes came into view, too. She sprung up and slid an arm into the crook of Sunset’s elbow. “You twisted my arm!”
If it were totally up to Sunset, they would’ve left the gym (if not town) to get as far away from the Fall Formal Princess voting booth as possible. But the little anxious looks Pinkie kept throwing back to the rest of the Fall Formal Planning Committee settled it. The very back of the bleachers were as far as she would take her.
The two of them dinked their paper cups, ice swishing in their sodas. Bad for the waistline, good for the soul, in Sunset’s estimation. Pinkie was about to dive into her three-tiered king-size burger, when she faltered. “Geez and blue cheese, I’m sorry I’ve been so frazzle-dazzled lately. I didn’t forget that today was our lunch date day, did I? What day is it???”
“Don’t sweat it. Today’s Wednesday, I just wanted to treat you. But it’s not like you to have to ask.” Popping a crown-shaped nugget and jalapeno scepter into her mouth and leaning her elbows back over the seat behind them, Sunset hoped sinking into her leather jacket’s collar would somehow act as an invisibility cloak to the rest of the student body. She pointed with the straw of her drink. “You’ve really thrown yourself over the coals for this one. Is everything okay?”
“Mmmm.” Her straw squeaked faster and faster, plunging her drink.
Sunset leaned her cheek into her own shoulder. “That bad?”
Somehow halfway through her burger, Pinkie sighed at it. “I hope not. I want it to be that good!” Sweeping her eyes over the rest of the school down on the gym floor, a half-smile partway climbed up her cheeks. “We’ve all had a lot of amazing times together, better than most other schools could ever dream! But in all the four years our class has gone to CHS, there hasn’t been one dance that…”
“Wasn’t ruined by me?”
Slurping up her soda, Pinkie shook her head. When she was done, she made a face. “I was gonna say it different!”
“But that’s what you mean. You don’t have to sugar-code it, I know what I did.” Years and years of making everyone miserable always found new ways to echo back to her. Looking over the other Wondercolts she terrorized, Sunset said, “I want that for them, too. Everybody deserves to have a good time. No magic, no power-hungry drama-queens.” She couldn’t help the smirk leaking into her voice, then she looked down, thumbing the coronated logo on her Burger Princess cup. “No me.”
Pinkie gawked long enough for lettuce and mustard to schlop from her burger onto the unfolded burger box. “No you? But I love you!”
Sunset rubbed her neck, feeling the heat back there. “I know. I wanted to own up to it face to face.” She looked her best friend in the eye. “I don’t think I can go.”
She would’ve thought Pinkie’s wide blue eyes were too full to get any bigger. The sounds of the rest of the school filled in the gap.
Then Pinkie found some steam. “N’awww, Pinkie Pie, there you go again, being inconsiderate!” Pinkie’s wibb-wobbly eyes would be the death of her. “If my big fat mouth made you feel like you can’t come, I’ll zip it all the way up! You’re so wanted!”
Sunset squeezed her knee. “It’s not you. It’s me.”
“I wanna believe you, but I think I’m not supposed to?” When Sunset looked suitably miffed, Pinkie huffed. “Well! How come whenever I use that line on people asking me out no one believes me?”
“Some people need to meet the business end of my boot, that’s why.” Combat boots were good for more than just looking cool; although Sunset could never seem to convince Rarity of the same. Sunset hugged her stomach which was starting to feel overstuffed with more than just fast food. “You know how sometimes I get lost in other people’s emotions?”
Pinkie nodded.
Out of all of their friends, Pinkie had been the most understanding when Sunset expressed feeling a little confused as to how she should feel apart from other people. Empathy magic was powerful stuff. The deal where Sunset couldn’t always control it so well only made it worse. At first, it was easy, but the longer she’d had her powers, and the more of other people she’d taken on, the more Sunset had trouble sorting out her thoughts and feelings from other people’s.
Trippy, to say the least.
Terrifying, to say the most. Not knowing who she was wasn’t something Sunset was ever used to before, it messed with her head. But then, Pinkie had so many friends and acquaintances and well-wishers—all of which she had a scary encyclopedia of information on memorized and catalogued in her brain—she got it before Sunset got what was going on with her.
Sunset didn’t feel like she had to over-explain herself or hold back. “I know I’m a different person than who I used to be. And so does everybody else, I think. But, I left a lot of people with a lot of bad memories. The Fall Formal is so intense. Even if no one wants to say it, that won’t matter. I’m probably gonna feel every bit of how uncomfortable they are that I’m there and I don’t know if I can deal with that right now.”
And it’s not like I blame them. I’d be uncomfortable with me there, too. Sunset smiled. “You’re giving it your all to put on a killer dance and it’s gonna be a really dope night! I don’t want to jeopardize all your hard work. And I definitely don’t want anyone to think I’m backsliding.”
“They wouldn’t! You’re not!” Pinkie couldn’t keep in a frustrated moan. “Can’t you see you’re better now?”
Sunset shrugged, suggesting that it didn’t make a difference.
Pinkie eyed her with those big blue kahuna-wave eyes. “... Are you positive?”
“I don’t think I could take ruining another Fall Formal. I already have a hell of a legacy…”
There was still a lot of fight left in her best friend, and Sunset knew for all the puff and fluff, Pinkie could be fierce if she wanted to be. But she nodded, taking in the size of it. “Okay, Sunset,” she said, little-voiced. “If that’s what’ll put a smile on your face, then you don’t have to come.”
Sunset returned to her lunch, but nudged her friend’s shoulder with her own. “You’re the best. Anybody ever tell you that?”
Pinkie giggle-snorted. “Big talk coming from the bestest.”
The two of them fell into normal conversation for a while, between sloppy bites of fast food. And the relief of checking that to-do off her list made Sunset breathe a little easier; she’d been dreading letting Pinkie down more than she realized, she supposed.
Somewhere along the way, though, it occurred to Pinkie to pause. “You’d tell me if there was another another reason why you don’t wanna come to the Fall Formal, right? Best friends don’t keep secrets from best friends.”
“Of course,” Sunset found herself saying, lemon-lime sour to the tongue. “I wouldn’t keep anything important from you.”
The conversation moved on without her, but something burned like acid-reflux. Sunset rubbed her chest thoughtfully. Maybe she shouldn’t have eaten those jalapeno poppers after all.
If Sunset knew her best friend at all—and by now she should hope she did—this was the place bound to put a smile on her face. A wild weekend for Twilight Sparkle involved a rager of experimentation followed by a scientific hangover. Research benders hadn’t always been Sunset’s idea of a good time, but Twilight tended to make it interesting.
Sliding open the door to the Sparkle family backyard, Sunset fought back the trust-fund kid vibes the whole house gave off. Who else’s family could afford to stock a full laboratory in their spare garage?
Wasn’t like Sunset could talk considering the palace brat she used to be. Still, she just hoped Twilight didn’t notice as much as she did the—to be polite—discrepancy between the four-bedroom upscale neighbourhood Twilight lived in and Blood Moon Crescent’s charming back alley “character.”
But if anyone deserved a place like this, Sunset would nominate Twilight any day of the week. She put it to amazing use. The selflessness of it all stirred something in her.
After saying hello to Spike, she followed after Twilight down the snaking pathway dotted with garden lights and up to the converted detached garage. A laser-cut sign on the front warned this premises was under twenty-four-hour surveillance, to please wear proper safety equipment upon entry, and for Twilight’s brother not to touch her things. If violated, all of these would be litigated with parental authorities.
Not too long ago now, the girls had done a purge of all things Spruce-related on this place, which had surprisingly been a lot. Framed pictures, gifted books, and keepsakes from their dates. Twilight couldn’t stand to throw any of it out herself, and poor Timber had no use for most of it. Did Sunset feel guilty tossing Twilight’s old relationship in the trash? Not as much as she did warming her hands in the glow of the trash fire.
Taking a breath of the sterile air, Twilight’s shadow fell over her laboratory from the doorway. “Oh, it’s been way too long.” She tossed Sunset her lab coat—the one readily hung beside Twilight’s these days.
Coming in behind her, Sunset caught it, smirking. “What? Three days?”
Making little struggle-noises to stick an arm in one sleeve of her own, Twilight gaped at her. “Three point five! Gah! I might as well have given up science!”
Saving her snicker for later, Sunset flicked the lights and traded in leather for cotton-polyester. A worthy sacrifice. She clapped her hands together and approached the L-shaped work table tripping up the flow of the room. “Then we should change that ASAP. The day you give up on science, the world may as well pack it in.” She rolled up her sleeves to three-quarter length. “Do you want me to take another look at that chess-bot of yours?”
Twilight made a face. “Meh. Rookie kind of lost his appeal when I started to have actual friends to play against.” Sunset gave the chess-bot a conciliatory pat. Sorry bud. Twilight rolled a bit of scrap metal across the table. “Remote-controlled life jacket?”
Sunset let her head wobble side to side. “Potential’s there but I don’t want to get my hair wet.”
Twilight hummed then ducked down to grab a big crate. “Well, there’s always—” She grunted, slamming it on the table. “Scrap parts!” She dusted off her hands. “If I ever have any trouble brainstorming a new project, thrifting for ideas usually helps.”
Sunset dug around in the first crate while Twilight pulled out a second and third. Celestia, how she wished science class was more like this. Messing around, throwing ideas at the wall to see what stuck, what could help people.
Riffling through old wires and busted up pieces of tech, Sunset could see any number of failed projects. Potential unmet—but not for lack of trying. For one reason or another, everything in here just didn’t quite work. The cogs didn’t mesh, the gears couldn’t find the grease. It was sad to see it all collected together.
Sunset held up a very high tech night-light. “Why do you still have all this junk?”
Twilight piled another box on the table, digging into gears and scrap metal. “Hey, it’s not junk. I learned something from all of these. And with any luck, I’ll be able to use what I learned to make something new.” She cradled an old telescope with what Sunset could only assume were Sparkle-upgrades. “Eh. Maybe that’s wishful thinking…”
“Or hoarding,” Sunset quipped. No accounting for sentimentality.
That earned her a sock to the shoulder. Not a bad right hook. Why exactly that made Sunset blush left Sunset mostly just confused about herself.
Digging through the next box, Sunset moved aside a cut of sheet metal to find something that induced paralysis. Her eyelids rose to attention. “Hello. Been a while since I’ve seen this.” Sunset dug out a magical frequency detector turned doomsday device in the shape of a cracked, broken compact mirror.
“Hm? What did you—” Twilight blurted out an ungraceful noise. “Gwahk! Oh my gosh! I didn’t realize I put that in there! I’m so sorry, I-I really should just get rid of that already! After Midnight Sparkle, I couldn’t stand to look at this thing—but I didn’t trust anyone else to dispose of it properly even at the dump, so I promised myself I’d disassemble it piece by piece for safety. I guess I am a bit of a hoarder.”
“It’s cool. I just didn’t realize you still had this old thing.” Sunset offered it out to her, as a show of trust more than anything. With the star-shaped light-display dead and cracked, the compact mirror couldn’t do much damage. “Shame the EM Frequency Detector never had a chance before I hawked it into the pavement, huh?”
Ever so hesitantly, Twilight took it with an embarrassed smile. “I’m just glad I didn’t destroy the entire multiverse. You were right about one thing. I never should have messed with something I didn’t understand.”
It took Sunset a second to place the quote. She almost had to ask Twilight when she’d ever said that, but her own shouts echoed back through her ears crystal clear. She cringed.
“...I don’t know about that.” Leaning back against the wall, she shrugged. “Curiosity isn’t a bad thing, I think it can be healthy—as long as you’re safe about it. You had some pretty cool ideas there. Combining the best both worlds have to offer…” Sunset whistled long and low. “Who knows what you could do?”
Twilight leaned across the table, admiring the broken Electromagnetic Frequency Detection Device with no small amount of longing in her dreamy sigh. “If only there was a way to build in more stability from the start. Theoretically, a system like that could be revolutionary.”
Sunset nodded, rounding the other side of the table to get a closer look under the hood. Metallic bits hooked up in a recognizable Sun-shaped transmutation circle, crude runes made of wire and metal. Huh. So that’s how she did it. “Pretty clever circuitry. I’m guessing the runes draw in magical energy and then the—?” She pointed to a metal coil.
“Inductor,” Twilight supplied. “It stores the kinetic energy of moving electrons in the form of a magnetic field.”
“Right, your inductor stores the change in the electromagnetic frequency and then amplifies it to your LED read-outs. Problem being, once you’ve summoned that magical energy and you just keep storing it, it needs somewhere to go, something to do.” Sunset examined the thing one-eyed against the light “Ha, that’s actually amazing. Faulty, but amazing! Celestia, if you could just adjust the runes more precisely, you channel all that energy from a more controlled input—instead of stealing magic, you’d have a controller.”
Twilight’s eyebrows climbed. “And if I could rewire the circuitry, maybe replace that inductor with a ballistic deflection transistor—the electrons would be guided by the electromagnetic forces themselves! The user could direct magical energy through the assistive device to do just about anything!”
Eyes wide, Sunset swore, beaming. “We could make different designs for different functions! Like geodes, but in our control! We’d be able to defuse any situation without putting any of our friends in danger! We could revolutionize how we use magic!”
“Sunset, you’re a genius! Why didn’t I think of that? This is incredible!” Twilight blinked, as though waking back up to reality, although she couldn’t put down that smile on her face anymore than Sunset could suppress hers. “Um. Theoretically, of course.”
Sunset straightened, nodding. “Oh, right, totally. Purely hypothetical.”
“Completely speculative,” Twilight agreed, waving her hands of the notion.
A moment later they both smiled.
Twilight twirled a tress around her finger. “Not that I would suggest trying anything, but I must admit, it’s nice to talk about it again. In the interest of academic thought, of course.” Sunset echoed the of course right after. “I thought all this daydreaming and passion was behind me.”
“Not that I would suggest anything either,” Sunset said moving closer, a bit huskier than she meant to as her heart detected a new frequency of its own, “but maybe… maybe we could. If we wanted to, and you know, if you’re up for it.”
Twilight’s owlish eyes spread behind her glasses. “You… really?”
“Don’t look at me like you haven’t thought about it.” Try as she might, her smirk was impossible to tame. “I’ve been dying to work on a project that puts all my magical know-how to use.”
“Oh gosh, and the engineering involved,” Twilight gushed, the light off the overhead lamp twinkling behind her thick-glasses. “We could collaborate on a whole other level!”
“Way beyond any science fair project!” Sunset leaned toward her over the lab table.
Twilight leaned to meet her. “And—and we’d make it safe!”
The ex-detentionaire held up her hands. “Totally safe! All the protection we need. So both of us could feel completely comfortable working on it together.” Leaning in closer still, Sunset only realized how close she was until she was already there. “We could… experiment.”
Two scientists came into focus under the light. This close together, Sunset could see the breath Twilight had to take to steady herself in the rise of her sweater-vested chest. Teal met magenta. The blood in her veins fizzed and bubbled and there was a velvet ribbon coiling along the walls of her stomach. Twilight studied the lift of Sunset’s lips and had to blink hard. Then she smacked her face into her hands. “Ugh, don’t do this to me! Don’t make me actually want it!”
Sunset scoffed to have a reason to look anywhere else. “Oh, like you’re not driving me wild over here, Miss Scientific Revolution. You’ve got more bad girl in you than you let on, Sparky. I haven’t felt like this in years.”
Rubbing beneath her adorable bow-tie, Twilight looked both delighted and winded. “You’ve got my heart beating out of my chest and we can’t even do anything.” She nested the EMF Meter in her hands, delicate, a baby bird with a clipped wing. The way she cared for her tech was so damn sweet, Sunset couldn’t take it sometimes.
“... Why not?” Sunset let her head lean to the side. “As a thought experiment.”
“What? Sunset, I nearly tore apart the fabric of the multiverse with this. I could have destroyed the known universe. I shouldn’t even entertain the theoretical inkling of an idea of touching this technology again. I mean, in theory, everything you’re saying makes sense, and it would be so incredible if we could make it work, but how can we know I won’t…”
Twilight grimaced down at the shattered compact mirror and her reflection halved by broken glass. “If I wanted to try building something new from this wreck, how can we know I won’t hurt anyone again?”
“Oh, Twilight…”
“I know.” She clutched the mirror against her chest. “‘Midnight Sparkle’s not who I am’ and ‘she’s not real’—or, not in the strictest sense. I haven’t had those nightmares in a long time. But, why are we kidding ourselves?” Wandering back to the junk pile, Twilight’s eyes passed over every failed project until she tossed the compact into the pile. “I can’t trust myself around revolutionary anymore.”
Standing there, watching Twilight crumple, Sunset became shit-pissed. After weeks and weeks of watching the embers die in Twilight, over and over as each new wave of sadness crashed over her and wore her down, Sunset couldn’t goddamn stand it.
“I trust you.” Sunset stepped forward. “Twilight, you’re a scientist. When has anyone discovered anything without experimentation? You wanna talk consequences for the multiverse? I’m serious! If scientists like you stop trying to invent all these beautiful, amazing ways to make things better for other people, what’s the point? This is why we do science at all! You make the world better!”
Twilight looked at her astounded, as if somehow in the nearly two decades of her life it had never occurred to her that she was a genius. “You think I make the world better?”
“Yes!” She could see the light returning to her best friend but Sunset could hardly focus on anything but making her point until it stuck. “That’s all I’ve ever seen you do!”
Twilight bit into her lip, though there was still a smile there. “That’s not all you’ve seen me do.”
“You know what I mean.” Shepherding in her temper, Sunset took a breath. “It’s okay to want to try again. I know what it’s like—I’d completely understand if you wanted to hurl that thing into the ocean and never see it again—and if that’s your call, I’d drive you there myself. Say the word, we’ll drop it forever.
“But, if you do want to try again but your nerves are shot, checks and balances aren’t a bad idea. I could probably use some to keep me on the straight and narrow, too. Keep me honest. You need a magic expert to protect the multiverse?” Sunset winked. “I’m your girl.”
Twilight considered her, first with wide eyes, then softened.
“So?” An engine revved in Sunset’s chest. “Partners?”
A starmap for some far-off galaxy glittered behind Twilight Sparkle’s eyes. She laced her fingers through the hands holding hers. “Partners.”
Everything about that night felt like Sunset and Twilight discovered fire. They spent ages in the lab together. Shooting ideas back and forth like stars, drawing up loose concept sketches and blueprint schematics, and writing on the whiteboard both magical and mathematical formulas to find the overlap.
The longer they went, the more Sunset realized how badly she’d missed this. Intellectually missed this. How long had it been? Back in her prime, she took on field tests for kicks. Testing out theories, breaking new ground, flexing her magical muscle—and beating out every student three grades ahead of her while she was at it (even after skipping a grade). Nothing felt better than a real challenge. She got so bored (and lazy) otherwise, to say nothing of how her ego swelled the more easy wins she’d notched on her belt.
This was so much better.
Keeping up with each other and only stopping to gush about how cool it all was. Eventually the sun had seen better hours. When either of them looked up long enough to realize, Sunset side-eyed the honey-comb-shaped window’s betrayal.
“Oh… the moon,” Twilight said, almost bewildered. “You don’t have to rush off, do you? My parents are out of town tonight! Mom’s still on her book tour this week, and I think Dad’s at a conference in New Sealand? They won’t mind, right? It’s for my enrichment! They said they think you’re good for me!” They did? But she couldn't focus on much when Twilight bumped her shoulder into Sunset, leaning a little into her. “You could stay a little past my curfew.”
Arm to arm, eyebrows high, Sunset whistled out an impressed noise. “Breaking curfew for me, Sparky?” She let the brush of her shoulder linger against Twilight's. Nothing wrong with that. Coziness crackled and hummed in her chest, but she had to press her luck by asking: “You sure I'm good for you?”
Twilight found trouble keeping her eyes on her own work. “My parents have plenty of reasons to go gaga over you.”
Sunset hoped ignoring her own blush would make it go away. “You know, usually the girl from another world riding up on her motorcycle is a bad thing. Not exactly the dream best friend candidate to bring home to your folks.”
Twilight’s hand slipped around Sunset’s bicep. “Oh please. You’re not that scary. I can see past the spikes and leather.” Hand sliding down, she let her hand come to rest over the one Sunset had left behind on the table. Soft and warm; Sunset was scientifically fascinated by the speed at which blood could rush through the human body. “Is the Fall Formal still bothering you?”
“Well, it's bothering me less now,” she said, braving the wound. There was enough quiet for Sunset to gather together words. How much should she put on her? I shouldn’t burden her with all that. “... honestly?” She watched Twilight nod and… she could see she meant it. “I’ve come so far from who I used to be and I’m really proud of that. Maybe too proud.”
“Shouldn’t you be?”
“If I go to that dance and make people uncomfortable or I’m not as over it as I think… I don’t know. Do you ever get scared deep down you’re not who you think you are?” Free hand to her neck, Sunset shook her head at herself, tacking on a laugh. “Sorry, nevermind. I’m not making sense anyway.”
“No, Sunset… you’re making too much sense. Are you… using your powers on me?”
Sunset let her incisors clip her lip. Depends what powers you mean…
Then she turned her eyes up from her boots and saw Twilight rapt. Laugh almost alarmed. “You’re not. How do you always understand what I’m going through?”
Intense reverb in the lymph nodes under her chin kept the beat, to underscore the rhythm of breathing machines. Taking her in, every curve and bend, Sunset knew her best friend better than she knew herself. The shine to her eyes when she geeked out. How her whole body smiled with her. How she took all the world’s problems on her shoulders and how solving them played on her mind.
“Maybe it’s this.” Sunset tugged on up the busted old EM Frequency device hooked around Twilight’s neck. A suggestion to come closer. “Demons like us? Not many human beings get what that’s really like.”
Suggestion followed. “I’d never had that before.”
“Existential terror? Bloodlust?”
Tartness tainted her smile, eyes to the skies, but the way that smile hit her eyes was like a sledgehammer ringing a carnival bell. “You know what I mean,” she mumbled.
“Yeah,” she said, feeling selfish and kind, turning down every instinct that told her she was indulging too much. “I do.”
So close she had to hold her breath back from caressing Twilight’s cheek. Close enough to see the part of her lips. Five-alarm chili heat rushed to her head. Sunset Shimmer leaned in daring to edge that cliff face knowing there was no turning back, and paused. Asking.
Never one to resist her curiosity, Twilight Sparkle answered.
Daydreams collided with cosmos and the smash of a new taste she never once thought would be so drinkable. Hands held, smiles shared, secrets confided—the quantifiable kisses she could have had up until now. Dammit! She sucked in air, and lost herself, lost time, lost the game. And Twilight kissed like if she did it right she could learn the secrets of the universe.
How they ended up over the lab table—table legs scraping back—some answers would be lost to the ages.
Under the overhead light, their experiment came into sharp, breathy focus. Parted and panting, Twilight seemed to just now realize Sunset had pinned her to the table, almost on top of her. “...oh wow.”
Sunset agreed, hair a mess, tempted to dive back in, heat radiating so hot she wasn’t sure if that was Twilight’s cheeks or her own. “Is this… are you uncomfortable at all? We can move if you want.”
“No! No, this is nice.” Those explosions of violet in Twilight’s eyes. Celestia, were they always so deep? “Unless—do you want to—?”
“No, uh, this is good for me, too.” She became very aware of where her hands were—resting on the curves of Twilight’s lower back. Sunset’s heart pounded as if knocking to hear where Twilight’s was, which she could now feel was beating just as fast as her own.
They both laughed and didn’t know why.
“This feels so… wow,” Sunset said dumbly, like a dumb person would. “I haven’t been held like this in, uh… it’s nice, is all.”
“Right? I didn’t know how much I was missing this since, well… Timber.” She seemed to realize what she was saying and the sunburn on her cheeks got more intense. “Sunset?”
Drinking this moment in, Sunset didn’t want it to end. “Yeah?”
“Are we… I don’t know if… I mean, I-I don’t know.” She looked to her for answers the same way she did after the Friendship Games. “I hadn’t planned—”
“Neither did I,” Sunset admitted, chuckling for no discernable reason. “But we don’t have to, you know. If you don’t want.”
“No, please! I do want!” Twilight told her, pushing her hips to Sunset’s, but then she bit her lip. “What do I want, exactly?”
Now at least Sunset knew what she was laughing at. “You nerd.”
“Oh, like you’re any better right now.”
“I know, it’s just—Celestia you’re cute.” In actuality, it wasn’t the first time Sunset had complimented Twilight like that. A cute top, a cute laugh—all affectionate, all true, and at no point was there any doubt that it was platonic in nature. But now, Sunset felt so lost as to what anything meant.
Brilliant as she was, Twilight didn’t seem to know, either.
Sunset kept her voice as soft and low as when she’d first approached a scared, hissing alley cat sleeping in a sodden cardboard box. “Sorry, is that too much? Are you okay?”
“I’m okay,” she promised, propped up on her arms. “Just trying to get my head together here. Not that I don’t—uh, or that I do if you—Gosh, I don’t know! I don’t know what we’re doing! I mean I’m not naive, I know, but I don’t know. This could mean so many different things.” She gestured down to their compromised position with her eyes, then found Sunset’s again. “I don’t want to guess wrong. You’re the friendshipexpert. What are we doing?”
Even with the answer she wanted right there for the taking, Sunset searched for wisdom in the ceiling spackle. Don’t think of yourself. “... You know, we don’t have to decide what it means tonight.”
“Oh. We don’t?” Twilight said, her shoulders relaxing.
“Yeah. You said we don’t know what we’re dealing with here. From a scientific perspective, we could just keep testing out—” She stroked her thumb on Twilight’s back. “—whatever this is.”
Anxiety loosening from her chest, Twilight started to smile. And as far as Sunset was concerned, that made her answer a winner. “Discovery does require experimentation.”
Best friends could do a great many things together, if they were close. They could stand hand in hand to face the worst life had to offer. They could hold each other’s hair back when they were sick, or stay by them when they were scared. They could bare their souls to each other and feel like no one on earth could understand them better. They could even hold each other closer than anyone else in their lives.
Prior to starting another makeout session with her best friend, Sunset Shimmer had thought she knew a lot about friendship by this point in her life. She really did.
