Cadence Has Horny Problems

Chapters

Miss-poofed
Consulting Celestia
Wonderbolts Trials

Miss-poofed

Cadence Has Horny Problems

(A travesty, written lovingly by writer)

“Have a nice day, milady!” the two guards at the gatehouse chanted in unison. Cadence curtsied and smiled sweetly before trotting on underneath the portcullis.

“Thank you!” She called back. “You both have a nice day too!”

When she had passed, the guards beamed at one another.

“Such a nice girl, isn't she?” the unicorn remarked.

The other guard, a dapper white pegasus, crooned and made a face. “Aww, look at her. Out to visit the commoners and everything. Even while she's busy planning her wedding, she's got time for the regular ponies, like you and me. Now that's what I want to see out of royalty. None of this 'too busy raising the sun' crap.”

The unicorn nodded pensively, his lip curled in smug satisfaction. For a moment, the two guards shared the silence, watching the young alicorn as she trotted away.

“...Say,” the unicorn murmured. “How d'you think she gets her mane all done up like that?”

The pegasus frowned, tilting his head. “What, her manestyle?" He reflected momentarily. "Not sure. Looks natural enough, if that's what you mean. She probably has access to the Royal Groomers, though...” A grin passed over his face. "Now, if you wanna talk pretty, those mares are easy on the eyes. I got to visit their shop down in Ponyville last month, and..."

He turned to the unicorn, but paused mid-thought. His fellow guard was still watching the Princess as she cantered over the drawbridge.

“...You think it's natural?” The unicorn clicked his tongue in dissatisfied apathy. “Maaan. I wish I had a mane that nice.”

The pegasus thought to roll his eyes. Instead, he settled for a brief snort. “Yeah, you should get it done up sometimes. I think you'd look pretty,” he remarked drily, turning back to face the road.

The unicorn guard turned a shade of pink, and scuffed a hoof.

“Aww, jeez. You really think so?”

An awkward silence overtook the two guards. Slowly, ever so slowly, the pegasus turned his head until he was looking the unicorn straight in the eye.

“...I guess that's a no, then?” the unicorn added quickly.

The pegasus turned his gaze back to the Princess in front of them, shaking his head and sighing.

“H-hey! So what if I like feeling beautiful?!”

Princess Cadence trotted over the timber monolith that was Castle Canterlot's drawbridge, humming a little ditty to herself.

The sun was shining.

She was getting married in two weeks.

The birds were singing.

She was getting married. In just two weeks.

The grass was the purest, most vivid shade of green she'd ever seen.

She. Was getting married. In two weeks!

She resisted the urge to squeal in excitement, but allowed the thought to continue reverberating around her head as she reached the other side of the moat. Her. Cadence. Regular old Cadence, totally not-special in nearly every way (well, aside from the fact that she was royalty), getting married to the colt she'd had a crush on forever. Her one true special somepony and her, married in front of all her friends and family. The ultimate expression of love.

The very thought of her special day made her blush and smile in equal amounts, and the more she thought about it, the more the feeling brimmed and spilled out of her. She wanted to giggle and jump around, not unlike a certain lavender unicorn she had once taken care of.

So, as soon as she was around a corner, and out of sight of the guards, that's just what she did.

“Yesyesyesyesyesyesyes!”

It was a feeling she couldn't contain or hide, even if she had wanted to. True love. True, true love. For so long she'd been toying with the idea that one day, she might get married to somepony. But only in her dreams had she dared to believe that it would be Shining Armour, her one and only.

Cadence stopped jumping about. There was nopony around for her to want to stop, but she was getting rather giddy even for her own liking. Taking a moment, she inhaled deeply, and felt a rush of energy surge through her as she charged her horn.

Oh yes, she sighed to herself. My life is perfect. My Prince will be perfect. Everything is perfect.

And with that satisfying thought, she vanished with a soft poofing noise and a puff of smoke.

Poof!

Cadence re-appeared, and gasped immediately fell five feet onto the cold, hard, ground. The fall took her quite by surprise, and she expressed it with a series of PG-13 curses that, even though they were wholly in her naturally benign and kind fashion, were deemed far too robust for this novel.

“Ah! Son of a buckin' apple!”

What the ground said, on the other hand, was beyond the control of censorship. Cadence gasped as the patch of earth she was sitting on writhed beneath her.

“Owch! Git off me!” said an irate, accented voice.

Cadence leapt to all fours, hurriedly scooting off of whatever unfortunate pony she'd mistakenly teleported onto.

“Oh my gosh, I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to, and - ”

She looked down at her unfortunate victim, and froze.

Sprawled on the ground was an orange-coated mare with flowing golden locks, and a very, very familiar stetson. Some way behind her was an alarmed-looking little filly with a bow wrapped neatly in her red mane, and Cadence blinked at both of them in confusion as the unfortunate mare picked herself up.

"I know you," Cadence said slowly. "You're Applejack, right?"

“Yeah, that's mah name,” Applejack said, grumbling and dusting dirt off of her coat. “What of it–” she glanced up, and upon noticing Cadence's flittering wings and long horn, her green eyes widened.

“O-oh! Your highness! Ah'm sorry!” Applejack fell back onto both front legs again. Cadence, being a rather modest young mare, immediately ducked low to help her up.

“No, no, no, there's no need for formalities," she gushed. "If anything, it's me who should be apologising!”

Cadence hadn't seen Applejack - or any of the elements of harmony, to be exact - since she'd attended Twilight Sparkle's birthday party. She was one of Twilight's best friends, although admittedly, Cadence only remembered the mare for her tattered old cowpony's hat, which struck her as rather warm and down-to-earth. Well, that, and the fact that Applejack had put away two other stallions in a hard cider-drinking contest at some point during the night.

The farmer winced. “Well, if y'must,” she said, grimacing and pulling herself up again. “Applebloom, come and say hello to the Princess!”

The young filly, who had watched the exchange with shocked, awed, bugged-out eyes, took a few steps forward and did a polite curtsy.

“Hello Princess,” she said shyly, scuffing a daffodil-yellow hoof along the road.

“Hello, Applebloom!" Cadence replied as politely as she usually did to ponies she met on the street, but she couldn't help but be distracted by the fact that they were not on a street, much less a cobbled one.

"Um...” Cadence frowned and looked around. “Where am I?”

“Yer just a little bit outta Ponyville,” Applejack replied, pointing down the road behind her. “Ya go that way ta get to the outskirts of town.”

“Oh, really?” She said, feeling very sheepish. “T-thanks.”

The earth pony chuckled. “Heh, heh. What's the matter? Did ya mess up one of your fancy Princess spells?”

Cadence blushed as she continued to add two and two. This was clearly not the Ponyville Library, her intended target. This was not even within Ponyville, and against seemingly ridiculous odds she had indeed messed up.

Did I really just miss a teleport? She thought to herself, glancing around for a logical reason why she had so badly miss-poofed.

While teleporting was, as a rule, a hard spell to master for most unicorns, experienced teleporters rarely missed. For any unicorn familiar with the spell, teleporting was simply a matter of visualising where you wanted to go, and making sure you channelled enough power to get there.

To add insult to injury, Princess Mi Amore Cadenza was not an average unicorn. She was a winged Princess, Celestia's niece, and with an innate gift for magic at her disposal, she felt rather embarrassed that she'd managed to miss the centre of Ponyville by so much, let alone to have re-appeared out in the middle of the countryside.

Cadence fretted. “Um... yes, I must have. Oh, gosh, I feel so silly.” She bowed her head graciously. “Again, I'm really sorry, Applejack. I hope I didn't hurt you by accident!”

The earth pony chuckled once more.

“Aww, shoot, tweren't nothin'. Ah know ya didn't mean it. Why, ah reckon if it were me, ah wouldn't be able to buck a tree, let alone do some fancy magic without thinkin' about mah big day coming up.”

Applejack's kind words made the young Princess feel slightly less of a fool, and Cadence smiled weakly.

“Thanks,” she murmured. “I was on my way into town to hand out these wedding invitations, and – Oh!” She suddenly perked up. “While you're in front of me, I've got something for you.”

Cadence turned her head, flipping open her loose saddlebag and rummaging in it momentarily, before withdrawing a bold, immaculately decorated pink envelope. She levitated it before her, smiling triumphantly.

“Ta-da! An invitation to my wedding!”

“Ah thought we were already invited?” Applejack said, blinking. “Twilight told us. Celestia asked us Apples to do the caterin', didn't she?”

“Oh, of course," the Princess said graciously. "But the Elements of Harmony deserve formal invitations. And, let's not forget you're my future sister-in-law's best friends.”

“Huh, well how do ya like that for a fluke?” Applejack said, beaming and plucking the letter from the air. “Ya found me just as ah was takin' Applebloom ta' school, and by sheer luck, too!” She glanced down at the pink envelope, opening it and withdrawing the card within. “Why, look, it's all done up in fancy handwritin' and – yowch!”

Applejack yelped, and leapt a good foot into the air, her knotted blonde tail standing on end. Cadence followed suit with a minute squeak of fright, and the card fluttered to the ground.

“Landsakes, it bit me!” Applejack said, fanning her hoof and glaring at the offending article indignantly.

Poor Cadence looked to the card, then to the startled Applebloom, and then to Applejack, totally lost.

“Huh? What?”

“The letter!” Applejack said, stabbing at the card wildly with an accusing hoof.

“It bit you?”

Applejack looked down at the card momentarily, before carefully picking it up in one hoof and opening it with the the other. “Well, ah... ah dunno,” the farmer said, frowning and looking over the card. “Ah tried ta open it so ah could read it, and it shocked me!” She glanced up at Cadence confusedly, only to recieve just as good back.

"I... I really don't know," Cadence murmured, biting her lip.

"Wait a sec'n," the farmer drawled, her eyes narrowing in suspicion. “Y'all didn't get these cards from Pinkie Pie, did ya?”

Again, Cadence blushed in embarrassment, recalling the moment earlier that month when she'd picked up the hoof-made invitations from the Wedding Planner's in Canterlot. For whatever reason, there had been a large, pink balloon attached to the stack of hoofmade cards, and given Pinkie Pie's unchallenged title as the Queen of throwing parties, she'd suspected that the baker-cum-organiser-cum-one-mare-band had something to do with their creation. It was a suspicion soon confirmed when the mare told her that they were made in and delivered from Ponyville.

“Um..." she bit her lip, and looked down at the five other cards in her saddlebag. "Yes I did, actually.”

“Ah, that explains it,” the farmer replied with a smug smile. “That mare's playin' tricks on y'all again. Tweren't nothin' serious,” she added casually, opening and closing the card several times. “Only seems ta work once, too. Maybe she was hopin' y'all would read it first, and give yerself a bit of a shock?”

Cadence frowned. “Well, I... I would hope not! These invitations are meant for my most important wedding guests, the elements of harmony! My Sister-in-law's friends! I...” she spluttered helplessly.

Applejack grinned and pawed her hoof against the dusty road. “Aww, shucks. Don't you worry your head about no invitations, Princess. As Granny Smith always says, 'no harm, no foul', and ah can't say I'm not used ta Pinkie's pranks by now."

Cadence fretted, as she always did. She began to make up another apology, but was swiftly cut off by the farmer, who was rolling her shoulders and twisting her neck energetically.

"...Why, ah feel like a million bucks now!" Applejack said, with an appreciative nod. "You know, that little jolt of magic really set mah heart racin', if you know what I mean!” She gave a wry chuckle and glanced down at her sister. “Not to mention, us apples are more than happy just' ta be invited to such a wonderful event. Ain't that right, Applebloom?”

Applebloom, who had been stuck in a state of permanent chagrin up until this point, smiled animatedly.

“Yep!” The little filly replied, bouncing on the spot. “And ah get to help decorate the cupcakes, too!”

The Princess turned her attention to the adorable little filly, kneeling a little and smiling.

“Well, I'm so lucky to have so many wonderful ponies helping me! Thank you, Applebloom!”

Like a mirror of her bigger sister, the little earth filly turned a hoof in the earth, and went all red in the cheeks.

“Aw, tweren't nothin'.”

Cadence couldn't help but fawn for a moment over Applebloom, who was so unbelievably saccharine that on any other day she might have doubted that anypony could be so cute. But of course, today was another day closer to the most important event of Cadence's life that it couldn't help but seem just as gorgeous and beauitful.

“Well, all the same,” she said happily, straightening up. “I hope I'll see you at the wedding, Applejack!”

“We'll certainly be there!” The earth pony replied enthusiastically. “With bells on!”

And with that, Cadence wished them both goodbye and charged her horn once more for a second attempt at teleporting.

“G'bye, Princess!” the Apples chanted in unison, waving.

“Bye!”

And with that, she vanished in a small poof of smoke.

The Apple sisters passed eachother a pleased look, and set off down the road again.

"She's really nice!" Said Applebloom, after a while of solid trudging. She glanced up at her bigger sister, a thoughtful frown dawning upon her face. “Say, do weddin' invitations always bite?”

“Well, no.” Applejack replied, chuckling.

Something strange happened in that moment. In fact, it wasn't until Applebloom realised that her sister was taking her time in answering her question that she turned around, only to realise that she'd left Applejack five or six paces behind her.

“Huh? Applejack?”

Applejack was frozen, mid-stride and mid-sentence. The earth pony gazed into the distance with unfocused, glazed-over eyes, her mouth half ajar as if she'd been about to say something.

The little filly took a few curious steps back towards her.

“...Sis?” she murmured

Applejack came back to life so spontaneously that poor Applebloom jumped in fright.

“– but ah think this was just one of Pinkie Pie's pranks,” Applejack finished, looking down at the earth and smiling. “Wait. Applebloom?” Her older sister did a swift 360, before her eyes flicked up to where the little filly stood.

“How'd y'all get over there?” the farmpony asked, cocking her head curiously.

Applebloom gaped, a good deal confused.

“Uhh,” she said, not entirely sure how to explain what had just happened. “Ah was just walkin' and you just kinda' stopped still for a second.”

“Huh?” Now it was Applejack's turn to be confused. “That's weird. Maybe y'all just walked ahead of me?”

Applebloom was quite confident that this was not the case, but she felt herself wavering all the same.

“Yeah,” she said, slightly unsure. “Maybe ah did. But you were frozen for a second or two. Like y'all was thinkin' of somethin' important.”

Applejack put a thoughtful hoof to her chin, tapping it.

“Well, ah might have been thinkin' of the bogged cart ah have ta get unstuck, and stopped walkin' without realisin' it.” She grinned at her little sister. “Ain't I a silly pony?”

Applebloom scowled at her, but giggled all the same.

“You are a silly pony, sis.”

“Yer right.” Applejack pulled a face. “Who's a silly pony?”

“You're a silly pony!”

“Who is?”

“You is!”

Applejack bore down on Applebloom, seizing the little filly and making her laugh.

And, with the matter unresolved (but mostly ignored), the two apple sisters chased eachother into town..

Cadence arrived at the gate to Fluttershy's cottage at precisely the right time. The butter-yellow pegasus was in the front yard, hovering and pouring a steady stream of golden chicken feed from a hefty-looking bag, her tongue stuck out in concentration. Upon realizing Cadence's presence, her eyes widened to the size of small dinner plates, and she dropped the bag (much to the delight of her chickens), touching back down onto the earth and bowing low.

“O-oh, your highness! I... I didn't know you were coming for a visit!”

Cadence reached back into her saddlebag, fishing out the envelope she had been saving for Fluttershy. “I wasn't,” she said, cutting the pegasus off before she could burst into apologies. “I just wanted to give you... this!” She produced the envelope with a flourish, beaming at the mare.

Fluttershy gasped, and took the envelope from the air gracefully. (How does one take an envelope with grace? Only Fluttershy could manage such a feat).

“Oh, my. You're too kind, Princess!” the shy pegasus said, smiling gently at Cadence and holding the envelope gingerly between her clasped forehooves. “Um, I might have a look later, after I've cleaned my hooves. They must be so dirty from all this work in the yard!”

Cadence glanced down at the pegasus' hooves. Barring a tiny speck of dirt on the tip of her left hoof, they were utterly spotless - and looked like they had recently hooficured. She chose not to point that out, instead smiling politely.

“Don't mention it,” she replied, shaking her head. “You're doing something amazing for me, so it's my pleasure!”

Fluttershy turned a shade of pink and mumbled something inaudable that might have been “Oh, I'm sure anyone could do it.”

Cadence shook her head resolutely. “No, I really mean it! I'd never hoped to have somepony leading spring birds in a chorus at my wedding. You're really doing a wonderful thing for me, Fluttershy.”

“O-oh, thank you,” Fluttershy said, fluttering her wings slightly, and casting her eyes back to her birds. She gasped as she realised that she'd left the bag of feed open, and that all of her animals were now crowding around it, squawking and squabbling incessantly.

“Oh! You two, stop fighting! Henrietta! Don't eat too much, or you'll spoil your dinner!” The pegasus made to dash over, but she paused, casting an uncertain look at Cadence.

“Um, is it okay if I just...?”

“Yes!” Cadence laughed. “We're friends, Fluttershy. I'd love to stay and chat, but I have to get going as well.”

The pegasus zipped back over to her birds, tutting and chiding and scorning. Cadence opened her mouth to add something that might have filled in for a proper goodbye.

And that's precisely when the worst day of Cadence's life started.

Without warning, Cadence's usually clear mind jerked to a halt, as she was hit by the mother of all migraines.

Headaches were a unicorn's worst nightmare, and Cadence was no less affected by them because of her alicorn blood. The proximity of a unciorn's head to a their long and sensitive horns meant that even the slightest headache could feel twice as painful, and this particular ache was worse than the even the worst migraine Cadence had ever suffered. She took a moment of mental energy into trying to recall a quick-fix, but her knees began to feel weak even trying to think. She put a stop to that at once.

It was not at all the prolonged, dull throb that Cadence was more or less accustomed to, but more a sudden and ghastly pounding sensation on the inside of her skull. She let slip a tiny gasp of pain, scrunching her eyes closed and trying more then anything to make her stressed-out, wedding-fuelled mind quieten. But try as she might to think of nothing, fresh surges of agony made her shudder and shake, and she could not help but focus on how much it hurt. A steam train at full gallop would have been less of a wallop. It was an ice-cream headache royale, complete with extra chocolate sauce of pain, and rainbow sprinkles that exploded before her eyes as her vision swam.

Oh. My. Stars. What in Equestria is happening?! her subconscious whined, a minutia of sense in a jumble of flaring nerve endings and magical sparks that made her head thud with pain.

The moment seemed to last forever, but when relief finally came, and her eyes fluttered open, she realised she couldn't have been lost for more than a few seconds. Fluttershy, who had been mercifully distracted with her birds, hadn't noticed her momentary seizure. Inwardly, she thanked herself for that. Subjecting herself to the ministrations of a worried Fluttershy was a fate worse than boredom – she'd probably be sent straight to bed by the overcaring mare.

“I'll see you later, Fluttershy!” Cadence called shakily, as she began to charge energy back through her horn. Thankfully, the headache had subsided as quickly as it had arrived.

“Oh... Yes, goodbye, Princess! I hope you have a nice day!... Angel! Don't do that to Charlene! Um... if that's okay with you, I mean.”

Cadence vanished from Fluttershy's cottage with a soft poof of smoke.

As luck would have it, the second time at teleporting into Ponyville proved to be the charm for Princess Cadence, and she re-appeared with a soft pop, just outside of Sugarcube Corner.

“Better!” she said, glancing up at her horn reproachfully, before trotting on over to the front door of the little bakery.

Although the sign on the entrance to sugar-cube was flipped to 'open', she pressed her face to the window, hoping to catch a glimpse of the mare in question. There was no guarantee she'd be in there, after all, and she didn't want to go barging in unannounced. Mr and Mrs. cake might be offended if they didn't get an 'official invitation' like Applejack's extended family did.

But again, as luck would have it - and luck was having quite a bit of it today - she saw Pinkie Pie zipping around inside, followed closely by a chatting Mrs. Cake, who was evidently instructing her on how to do something.

Right, then. She inhaled deeply and turned to open the door.

“Hiya, Princess!” Said Pinkie Pie, from about two feet to her left. “Whatcha doin'?”

“I'm just going inside to see Pinkie Pie about my wedding invitations,” Cadence replied, putting her hoof on the doorknob. “Do you know if she–”

She blinked, and did a very gentle double take. The Pink earth mare was standing right there, smiling cheerfully at her.

“Oh, I..." She paused. "Pinkie Pie?”

“Hi!” The pink enigma said again, beaming at her.

“Uh..." Cadence mumbled, and felt a tiny anxiety stirring in the back of her chest. "Weren't you just inside?”

“Yep!”

“Then how did you get out here so quickly then?”

“Back door,” Pinke replied happily, rocking back and forth on her hooves.

Cadence frowned, and peered back through the window quickly. No, she was definitely not seeing double. As before, Mrs. Cake was trotting around, though this time she was alone, performing the immensely delicate and difficult act of carrying cakes hither and thither. While such a task would have been made all the more complex by her lack of magic, the earth mare appeared unfazed, even noticing Cadence peering in and offering a jovial wave.

...Riiiiight, Cadence thought. Resisting the urge to question the insanity that was the element of Laughter, she ducked her head down and reached back into her bag, rummaging through it momentarily before turning back to Pinkie, envelope in her teeth.

“Ey ave an in-vit-ay-shun to my wedding for you,” she mumbled.

Pinkie Pie gasped. “Oh, goody! I was hoping these would turn out! Let me see, let me see!”

With reckless abandon, the decorator snatched the envelope from Cadence's mouth and quickly opened it.

“Oooooooo,” Pinkie.... oohed. “Wow, they're so pretty in the gloss finish! You know, these really worked out better than I thought they would!”

Cadence nodded. “Well, yes – I love them, except for one thing.”

“What's that?” Pinkie inquired as she opened the letter.

Cadence paused, hoping her point would make itself evident.

...One second passed. Two came and went without a fuss. And still, the Pink mare browsed the letter, her keen blue eyes darting across the fine, hoof-written calligraphy, grinning to herself. Three, four and five seconds passed in much the same way, until Pinkie closed the card and flashed Cadence a merry smile.

“Wow, These look great! I really like the footnote of 'RVSP: Canterlot Castle'. Makes me feel so important for being invited in the first place! Oh, wait - didn't I do that calligraphy? Hee-hee! Of course I did! I'm such a silly filly!”

Cadence, who had been expecting Pinkie to get an adequate taste of her own medicine, was rather shocked.

“Uhh... would you mind if I see that card again, Pinkie?”

“Sure!” Pinkie promptly presented the letter back to Cadence on two outstretched hooves. Frowning, the Princess accepted it with a burst of telekinesis, levitating it before her and opening it.

“Dear Pinkamena Diane Pie,” the personalised card read. “The proud parents of Shining Armour and Mi Amore Cadenza would like to extend an invitation to you for the union of our darling foals in holy matrimony.”

The rest of the letter contained, among other things, an RSVP address, a dress code, a time and date, and an adorable, foal-era picture of both her and Shining Armour playing together, outlined in a big red heart. But it did not contain an electrical shock, as she imagined.

“I don't get it,” Cadence said, looking up at Pinkie, stunned. “How did you make it so that it didn't shock you?”

Pinkie Pie's smile vanished.

“Huh? What do you mean?”

Cadence re-opened the card, using only her hooves this time. Again, nothing happened.

“Well,” she said, now slightly irate, “When I gave Applejack her invitation earlier this morning, she got a magical shock when she opened the card!”

Pinkie Pie's eyes widened, and she gasped.

“Ooh, really? Wow, that is such a good idea for a prank! I should try that sometime!”

"Well you really shouldn't..." Cadence began scoldingly, but she paused, realising rather quickly Pinkie's delight was genuine. “Wait, so you didn't give me joke wedding invitations?” she added, feeling somewhat placated.

Pinkie's eyes were already wide, and they practically bugged out as she processed Cadence's question.

“Huh? To your wedding? No way, Jose. Why would anypony do that?” Pinkie Pie took the invitation back, opening it. “See? Look! No jo-wuburuburbrr!”

Pinkie Pie jumped and dropped the card, but not before leaping a good two feet into the air. She crashed back to earth in a pile of static and tangled legs.

Cadence gasped. “Oh my gosh, Pinkie! Are you okay?!”

“Brrr! W-wow! Looks like you were right, P-p-princess!” Pinkie giggled, looking slightly dazed. “That was a real doozy!”

“...But are you alright?” Cadence asked, still tentatively leaning over Pinkie Pie. The injured earth pony bounced to all fours again so swiftly that she almost bowled the alicorn over, beaming as perkily as ever.

“Yep! I'm fine,” She replied. “I've had worse.”

Cadence faltered. “Well, I... wait, you've had worse?”

“Well, there was that one time Twilight tested her mirror image spell on me, and that was twice as bad!” She let out a rip-snorting giggle. “I was all like woooooo, wooooooo! I couldn't even stand up straight for five minutes!”

“Oh. Um, well, it's good to see you're okay at any rate...”

“Yeah! Actually, I feel better than ever. Like I've eaten a whole bag of candy!” She did a mad little dance on the spot. “It's like magic!”

Cadence opened her mouth to reply, but gasped, suddenly aware of a second explanation.

It's like magic.

It was unlikely, yes. In fact, it was highly rare for unicorns her age to get magical overload – it tended to be more of a foal's affliction – but it would explain her splitting headache back at Fluttershy's cabin, and the teleport spell she'd cast before that she'd missed wildly. More importantly, it would explain why Pinkie Pie wasn't shocked until after she took the card... from Cadence's magical grip.

“Oh. Oh no...” She blushed. “Um, Pinkie Pie, I don't think it's the cards that are giving ponies shocks.”

The earth pony pouted and gave pause to her bouncing. “Huh? What do ya mean?”

“I... I think I'm having problems controlling my magic,” she whispered, glancing up at her disobedient magical appendage.

“Y'mean horny problems, right?”

“Yeah, right,” Cadence muttered, still distracted.

“Are you sure?” Pinkie inquired. “Because I could have gotten these envelopes mixed up with my stack of joke envelopes.”

“Well, no,” Cadence admitted, surprised that Pinkie Pie would have noticed such a thing. “But I'd rather not take the chance.”

The earth mare paused, hesitantly. “Do you... do you wanna open another one? Just in case?”

Cadence nodded, and withdrew the invitation she'd been saving for Twilight from her bag by a grip of silvery blue magic.

“Alright, just be care-” She'd scarcely begun warning Pinkie when the elated Earth Mare snatched the letter from her grasp and beaming, tore it open.

Nothing happened. Not even so much as a wisp of magical energy escaped the card, and Pinkie's excited grin soon faded.

“Aww. I was kind of hoping that one would work,” She admitted.

“You wanted it to shock you?” Cadence replied, incredulous. The earth mare gave her a sheepish grin.

“Well, not really. It's no fun being shocked. But I feel so super-duper-supercharged now, and it's just so great!” To demonstrate her point, she did another little cantering dance on the spot. “Oooh! I feel all bubbly!” She giggled in exhilaration. “I bet I can work the whole day now! I'd better go and tell Mrs. Cake – it is Mr. Cake's birthday after all, and I just know he'd be excited to have the day off! You have a great day now, Cadence, I'm gonna go sink my teeth into those cakes!”

And, before Cadence could object, the Pink earth mare bounced by her, bounding through the front door that had been closed only a second ago.

“Uhh... Okay! Bye, Pinkie!” The young Princess called after her, waving goodbye.

The door clicked shut, and Cadence turned away from sugarcube corner, scowling and muttering darkly to herself.

I can't believe it! She said to herself, exasperatedly. Twice today! She glanced up at her horn, crosseyed. “You better behave,” she snarled. “I can deal with you when I get back to the castle.”And with that, the pink princess poofed away once more.

Rarity gasped, aglow with happiness.

“Oh, thank you, thank you, thank you!” She squealed, hopping on the spot.

“Rarity,” Cadence said, giggling. “You know you were invited anyway, right? You were making the dresses for the bridesmaids.”

“Oh, I know, darling, but this makes it official, doesn't it? And you want me! To make your dress!” The alabaster unicorn tittered. “Ooh, I can't wait! It will be a dress fit for a... well, fit for a Princess! Oh, and I'll sew roses into the bridesmaid's gowns, and the ringbearer will have his own special tuxedo, and – ”

“Uh, Rarity,” Cadence said, trying to get a word in edgeways. Rarity, oblivious, carried on with her fantasy animatedly.

“And then there'll be you, darling, in woven pink silk, set with rubies and amethysts, just to compliment your colours! You'll be exquisite!” The unicorn gasped. “Maybe I should combine the old and the new, and make your wedding dress white and pink!”

“Rarity!” Cadence said firmly.

The unicorn looked up, slightly stunned.

“Yes, dear?”

“Just white will be fine,” she said with a polite smile, trying to sound as meek as possible. Thankfully, Rarity didn't seem to take offense. If anything, her mollifying words only set the fashionista off on another tirade of faux-pas expressions and excited, self-answered questions.

“Oh, of course, of course! The bride always knows best, dear – but how would you feel trying a magically-woven ensemble, hmm? It'll be stunning – I'll have to get your measurements and make sure you're all tailored up for your wedding dress, so this can be absolutely perfect!”

Cadence laughed and pushed the pink envelope into Rarity's white forehooves.

“Okay, okay! But you have to accept the invitation first!”

The unicorn gave a mock cry of delight, withdrawing the card from its immaculate paper sheath.

“Absolutely, I'd love to come! Would I be remiss if I bought along a gift for the happy couple? Maybe a lovely bracelet, or something you could wear on your honeymoon – Owoooch!” A visible jolt of blue electricity coursed up through her body, and Rarity's perfect coiffure puffed into a static frizzle.

Cadence gasped in horror and embarrassment for the third time that day.

“O-ow,” Rarity muttered, little streams of smoke sizzling from the singed end of her tail.

“Oh, no, not you too!” She groaned, slapping a forehoof to her head. “I knew it wasn't the invitations! I'm having magical overload!”

Rarity shook her head and coughed a little, trying to clear the soot from her lungs.

“Wh-what just happened?” she inquired politely, slightly shaken.

“I... I think I'm having problems with my magic,” she admitted. “I must be super charging things with electricity... I've already done that to two ponies today already! I'm really, really, sorry.”

“O-oh,” Rarity replied, levitating a comb to herself and beginning to run it through her now-frizzed purple mane. “Perhaps you'd better go and see Twilight, deary. I bet she'll be able to help.”

“Actually, I do have to see her today,” Cadence said. “I'll do it when I give her her invitation.”

“Um, meaning no offense, Darling, but perhaps it would be better if you did it sooner rather than later. That was quite the shock you just gave me!”

Cadence blushed furiously, and opened her mouth to apologise again, but was rushed down by an overly modest Rarity.

“Oh, no, dear. Don't think a thing of it! Why, you must be so awfully distracted with your special day, hmm? As a fellow unicorn, I can sympathize. Sometimes, I get wound up about my work, too, and all of a sudden – poof!" The unicorn's blue eyes widened, and she fanned her forehooves outward to mime a puff of energy. "And just like that, I've accidentally turned an entire dress green.” She leaned forward, beckoning Cadence to her and whispering conspiratorially. “Luckily, green is in this season.”

Cadence merely smiled, too overwhelmed by Rarity's affable nature to argue. “Well, wonderful then!” she said. “I guess I'll drop back by tomorrow to get my measurements done?”

“Please do, darling!” Rarity replied, clasping her forehooves together and resting her chin against them, before letting out a wistful sigh. “And then we can sit down and have a lovely cup of tea, and you can tell me all about the lucky stallion, and how dreamy he is, and how beautiful your special day will be!”

Cadence blushed and nodded.

“Why does everypony keep calling Shining Armour 'lucky'? I mean, I think I'm the lucky one here!”

Rarity fawned in delight. “Oh, how adorable of you to say! Well, lucky or not, I must know absolutely everything about the wedding, darling – you simply must tell me over a nice cup of earl grey!”

Cadence smiled. She loved earl grey. “That sounds wonderful. I'll see you tomorrow, then?”

“Of course. Do take care of yourself, won't you?” Rarity called from the front door, waving an immaculate white hoof as the young Princess departed.

No sooner had she closed the door to the boutique, than Rarity shuddered involuntarily, her breath escaping her in an excited gasp.

She blinked once.

“Oh... phew. It's rather hot today, isn't it?” She mumbled to nopony in particular, before turning back to her sewing machine.

Cadence reached the footpath and began to channel energy through her horn. But, just as her magical energy approached its peak, she felt the beginnings of an ache rising in the base of her skull. Unwilling to sample from the ice-cream bucket of headaches again, she cut the process off quickly and scowled.

Well, I suppose it's flying, she thought to herself, flapping a few times to ready her wings.

Meanwhile, on the opposite side of town, a pegasus known as Rainbow Dash swayed atop a cloud in a gentle, victorious samba.

“Are you sure you're ready?” Asked a very tentative voice from behind her.

Rainbow Dash snorted. “Of course I am!”

How could she not be? Today was the day. More then that, today was the day. The most awesome, day that had ever existed in the history. She'd been preparing for months for it, and she could hardly contain her enthusiasm or excitement.

Wonderbolts Flight Camp Tryouts.

She glanced back at the pegasus behind her.

“Don't get too jealous when I'm in the wonderbolts, will you, Raindrops? You can still be my wingmare anytime.”

The fellow pegasus offered her a grin, and the aviators perched atop her nose glimmered a little in the afternoon sun.

“Of course. You can be my mine anytime too, Dash.”

Dash reached down to her thigh, and spun a little dial on her iHoof, turning up the music. Oh yes, she felt the need; the need for speed! (And guitar riffs...)

♪ Revvin' up your engine,

Listen to her howlin' low!

Metal under tension, ♫

Beggin' you to touch and go!

She fell off the cloud, into a steeply-pitched dive, letting out a long, drawn out whoop fall from her lungs as the world picked up pace around her.

Cadence flapped along slowly, pondering her continued magical problems. It was hardly far to Twilight's house at all, so she didn't mind at all, and she probably needed the exercise anyway. All that time being cooped up in the castle planning her wedding had made her forget just how wonderful a leisurely fly on a lovely day could be.

Something blue flitted against the blue sky in the corner of her vision. She glanced over to look, and gasped in delight.

A rainbow! Like an infinity of gorgeous colours, Cadence stared, far too amazed by the moment to even worry about her own problems.

“Oh my gosh,” she mumbled to herself, totally awestruck by the magnificent banner of vibrant, flaring light. “...Wow...”

She ran her eyes from one of the beautiful, prismatic trail of light from one end to the other, smiling as she tried to remember an old nursery rhyme about a big pot of gold at the end of the rainbow. The smile faded somewhat as she saw the rainbow being led by a little fleck of blue.

Huh. That was unusual. She didn't remember any foal's stories about a 'blue something' at the end of the rainbow. And was it just her, or was that rainbow getting closer?

She slowed slightly, squinting hard. Now that she was starting to pay attention, she saw that the rainbow was getting awfully close. In fact, it was a little closer than close. Too close for comfort even, and it was gaining on her hard. As the strange prism of light grew in her vision a little, and then a lot, she saw that it was not the rainbow she had imagined it to be, instead being the pegasus who would be in charge of performing the one and only sonic rainboom.

And she realised that she was going far too fast to avoid crashing into her.

"NA NA NA NA NA, NA NA, NA NA NA-NA NA," the Rainbow yelled at her.

“Gaaaah!” Cadence screeched to a halt, ducked, and hid underneath her forehooves. None of this had the desired effect of getting her out of the way, of course, but rational thought was the last thing on her mind, and like a deer in the headlights she froze.

Rainbow Dash did another few barrel rolls mid-air, just to stretch her wings out.

"HIIIIGHWAAAY TOOOO THEEE DANGER ZOOOOONE," the rainbow-maned pegasus yowled. "DA NA DA-NA-DAH-DUN-DAH-DUN-DUNNAH DUNNAH DAH!"

The best part of being out in the middle of the sky was that nopony could hear you sing, not particularly when you were going so fast.

Through the blue tint of her flint goggles, something appeared on the horizon.

"NA NA NA NA NA – huh? What is that?"

By the time she'd recognised who and what the 'something' was, she was within fifty feet of it, and had absolutely no time to react whatsoever.

In the end, Cadence ducking was the only thing that saved Rainbow Dash from becoming a pegasus shishkebab. The blue streak yelped, banking hard and barely avoiding the lethal point of Cadence's horn.

“SORRYCAN'TSTOPGOTTASEETHEWONDERBOLTS!” It yelled as it went by.

Cadence, who had been sent into a somewhat clumsy spin by the tiniest shockwave that followed the racing pegasus, shouted at the top of her lungs. “WAAA-IT! Rainbow Dash! I have a letter for you!”

Like a streak of teal lightning, the pegasus banked hard again, pulling back in a turn so fierce that Cadence was surprised it was possible. She held the message high and flinched away, praying that the daredevil pegasus wouldn't crash into her.

Rainbow Dash skimmed Cadence once more, and she felt the envelope being ripped from her grasp.

“'KAYTHANKSBYE!”

There was a slight whoosh, and the Pegasus accelerated, shooting off into the distance again and blasting Cadence with some serious rainbow-coloured afterburn.

Some way out of Ponyville, Rainbow dash glanced down at the letter in her forehoof. She didn't have time to stop and read it, and instead settled for simply scanning the hoofwriting on the front of the card as she whizzed through the sky.

“To Rainbow Dash, an invitation to my special day,” she thought to herself. “Huh. I guess I'll say thanks and sorry later.”

And with that last cursory thought, she began to fly at full speed in the direction of Cloudsdale, not daring to be late for her very own special day.

A slightly frazzled Cadence landed on the footpath outside of Twilight's Treehouse, her wings tucking herself back against her body tightly as she resolved never to fly around Ponyville again unless she absolutely had to.

Poking her head through the door, she looked around.

“Hello? Twilight? Are you in here somewhere?” She called out, into the empty hollow. A small gasp echoed from a back room, followed by the sound of galloping hooves.

“Caaaadaaaaannncee!” hollered an excited, high-pitched voice that steadily grew in volume as its owner charged from room to room, before finally bursting out from an adjacent door to reveal an elated, beaming Twilight Sparkle.

The young unicorn mare beamed, bounding over and crouching low. Cadence did the same.

“Sunshine, sunshine, ladybugs awake! Clap your hooves, and –” they both turned around. “Do a little shake!”

The two giggled and turned back, embracing each-other. Ignoring any idea of formality, the little unicorn was nearly bouncing with joy as she spoke, the words tumbling from her mouth in a torrent of bubbly happiness.

“Oh my gosh oh my gosh oh my gosh, Cadence!” Twilight babbled excitedly. “It's happening! It's really happening!”

“I know!" The Princess gave a little squeal of excitement. "I can't wait either!” Her eyes drifed skywards as she sighed happily, imagining the day itself. “It'll be so amazing... I just know it will be!”

“I heard from Pinkie Pie about how many hoops that you've made my poor brother jump through for the ceremony!” Twilight giggled. “I hope he's alright.”

“He's fine,” Cadence said, smiling and rolling her eyes. “In fact, most of the decorations were organised by him.”

“Good,” Twilight said. The lavender unicorn gulped anxiously and blushed. “...You know, I can't believe we get to be sisters, too!”

Cadence, who had admittedly had other things on her mind, suddenly remembered that she was talking to her future sister in law, and turned a slight shade of rose. She distracted herself by diving into her saddlebag, fishing out the last of the little, pink invitations that had been causing her so much trouble.

“So, I guess that means we're going to be related, huh?” She said, passing the invitation to Twilight very carefully by hoof.

Twilight's eyes lit up as she accepted the invitation, but unlike the others she did not set about opening it right away. Instead, she gazed up at Cadence with a distant and watery smile.

"Yeah..." she murmured. "I guess we are."

The lavender unicorn sniffed and dried her eyes. Cadence smiled and turned away, feeling a stinging sensation rising in the corners of her own vision.

What more could solidify them as sisters at that point, she thought. She had known Twilight Sparkle for successive years of her life. She was twelve or thirteen years her elder, but it had been a very long time since she had viewed Twilight as a child. The little lavender unicorn's incredible mind had seen to that. There were no words that could describe how much she loved the curious, bubbling foal - the book-driven, young filly - the studious young mare, and it felt like an eternity ago that Cadence had been introduced to Twilight Sparkle through Princess Celestia.

Cadence's marriage to her brother was the shining hallmark that proudly marked of the end of an era, one where they were both foals and young fillies. It was a time of fun and learning and young love, and she would miss some things in it. But it was the beginning of another era, and that was one in which they would both be sisters for life.

Now Cadence was the one sniffing. Resisting the urge to dissolve into her emotions, she looked down at Twilight, smiling gently.

"Go ahead and open it," she said, gazing gently into the unicorn's bright and slightly watery eyes.

Twilight Sparkle nodded, not saying a word. Sitting on her haunches, the element of magic slid her hoof along the edge of the pink paper envelope, removing the precious invitation. She glanced down at the letter, and her eyes glazed over with wonder.

“Wow, these look great," she breathed. "I just think I might frame it-yow!”

Cadence's happy smile died on her lips as the little unicorn blinked, frowning at the paper. She sighed once again, feeling the moment around her shatter like a pane of crystal glass.

“Well, I guess it was bound to happen,” Cadence said, peering at the envelope glumly.

“Princess,” Twilight said slowly, her big purple eyes widening as the cogs in her head turned. “Are you unwell?”

Knowing better then to ask how the brilliant young mare would deduce such a thing, Cadence opened her mouth to deny the claim. But something gave her pause before voicing the lie. She didn't want to be dishonest, not truly, and if there was anypony who could help and ease her embarrassment, it would be Twilight Sparkle.

“...Well,” she replied, feeling awfully silly. “I'm not exactly sure... But I think so." She blushed. "I think I'm just little worn out from all these preparations I've been doing. After this, I'm going to go home and have a nice rest, just in case. I don't want to start getting sick now, do I?”

Twilight, whose face had shown a whole spectrum of emotions in the space of a few seconds – hurt, worry, concern and then satisfaction – assumed its naturally happy look.

“Well, that's good,” she said, levitating the card open. “That would be just awful! If you got sick before your -”

Twilight stopped mid-sentence, staring into the near distance, her mouth still half-open.

Cadence, who was still smiling, continued waiting for a few seconds for Twilight to resume speaking. When she didn't, the smallest of frowns creased her cheeks, and she tilted her head forward slightly.

“Uhh... Twilight?” she inquired.

“– wedding,” Twilight resumed suddenly, making Cadence jump, “it just wouldn't be as special, and you'd feel so yukky.” The unicorn shuddered, and continued. “Why, if you got really sick, you might even have to re-organise the whole thing! Wouldn't that be horrible?”

Cadence stared blankly at Twilight, mouth half-open in an unspoken question.

“Uhh... Twilight, are you feeling alright?”

The little mare's perky smile faded a little bit.

“Yes, I'm fine, Cadence. Why, what's the matter?” she suddenly sounded worried. “Do I look pale?”

“No, no, it's just –”

Cadence paused as something entered her nostrils. She only caught the faintest whiff, but it was one that made her stomach twitch in concern for its contest. She look a long breath, and no sooner had she done so than a blindingly bitter hit her olfactory senses with all the force of a charging buffalo, and she burst into a fit of coughing, waving a hoof in front of her nose.

“O-ho my sta-ha-hars!” She gagged, alternating between speaking and choking. “What in Equestria is that smell?”

The unicorn frowned at her, and blinked.

“Wait. You mean this?” Twilight waggled her tail a little bit, and the smell intensified. Cadence wretched.

“YES!” She gasped back. “THAT!”

Twilight Sparkle's mouth dropped open in incredulous disbelief. “Really, Cadence? You're the element of love. I'm surprised you don't recognise oestrous when you smell it.”

Cadence continued to cough and wipe the tears out of her eyes, while her brain processed the unicorn's patronising words. When it finally had, she stared at Twilight in dumb shock.

“I beg your pardon?” she said, mortified.

“Oestrous,” Twilight repeated. “You know. Hormones secreted by the body that make you sexually receptive. It's spring, so it was going to happen sometime... I guess it's just now that I feel like... you know.” She tumbled both forehooves one over the other in her best attempt at miming roly-poly.

“I know what it is!” Cadence replied hurriedly. “I just... what? You weren't like this five minutes ago!”

“Yeeeeaah, exactly,” Twilight said, turning a forehoof. “Sorry about that. It's just that time of the year for me, and it can happen this way, you know, especially for unicorns. You can just be doing some magic, or reading a book, and then, hey! It's that time again...” She gave a nervous, unsure laugh. “And, um, to be honest, I'd been considering just sitting in my library this cycle, reading it out like I always do, but... now that you're here, I was wondering...”

Twilight looked away in a very nonchalant manner for a moment, shifting her weight from hoof to hoof nervously. “Seeing as how you'd undoubtedly know a lot about this sort of thing... And, um, we're going to be family and all, so it wouldn't be weird... I thought maybe you'd like to... you know. Help a sister-in-law out?” At this, she looked back at cadence, cocked her head slightly and grinned hopefully.

Cadence blanched, feeling sick to her stomach. “Are you saying what I think you're saying?”

“Yes!” the librarian said spiritedly, ignoring shame like it was a middle child.

Cadence's eyes widened, and she whinnied in horror, staggering back and lashing out with a powerful shove of her telekinesis.

Twilight gasped and ducked. The bolt of pink arcane magic screeched overhead, thudding into the bookshelf behind her and fizzling into nothingness, with only one or two books falling from the shelf. After a few seconds of awkwardly hiding behind her forehoooves, Twilight peeked around, and, upon observing no damage, looked up at the Princess again with her best puppy-dog eyes.

“Woah, woah, Ca-dence!” she whined. “C'mon, I wasn't going to actually act on my urges! It's estrous! I mean, can't we at least talk it over? I'd feel a lot better about it if... we... did." With these last few words, her face sank as she noticed the look on Cadence's face.

Cadence, who was still frozen to the spot in shock, dropped her magical guard for half a second and gave Twilight a worried frown. "W-well..." her voice petered off into nothingness as she considered the prospect.

Advising her sister-in-law on something so gross was hardly going to end without some unpleasant feelings. She had been so frightened by Twilight's awkward raising of the subject that she hardly knew what to say.

Not to mention the fact that she, Princess Cadence, the most Royal and Honourable element of love, knew absolutely nothing about oestrous.

Twilight continued to protest, unawares. "...And I just feel like it'd help a lot, you know? Besides, it's totally normal for young mares to fantasize over their babysitters!”

The Princess stared in horror for a moment, and then replied by emptying the contents of shelves A through L on her head. She then turned and fled from the library screaming, bulling through the door so hard she sent some unfortunate soul on the other side of it sprawling into Twilight's garden.

The unfortunate Princess vanished from the library garden path with a loud crack.

17/01/13 - Revamped this story to make it work! This and the next chapter should really get the story going.

Consulting Celestia

Sssssip.

At that particular moment in time, Princess Celestia was curled atop her golden throne, enjoying a pleasant cup of tea and reading the morning reports. Today her mane was a gentle shade of pink, and she had foregone her usual regalia of a crown and golden shoes, instead only sporting a pair of very slight golden pince-nez that were perched atop her nose.

She was looking forward to a bit of downtime after a long week of dealing with gryphons and dragons and the equestrian games committee, and her attire let everypony know without speaking that she was in casual mode. Not that she could be blamed, of course. It was a Saturday.

CRASH!

The throne room doors slammed open, and a galloping, sobbing, hiccuping blur of carnation, violet and cream shot into the room. Celestia jumped, nearly spilling her tea, and her glasses tumbled from their precarious seat atop the bridge of her muzzle, breaking on the marble floor below.

She swiftly gathered that it was Cadence. Except she was not nearly as bubbly as she had been when she left this morning.

“Cadenza!” the sun princess gasped. “My darling niece, what is bothering you?”

“Oh Auntie, it's awful!” Cadence wailed, practically launching herself onto the sun princess and burying her tear-stained face into Celestia's thick, white chest fur. “It's just awful!”

Celestia frowned, and immediately set the cup of tea to one side before embracing the young alicorn.

“Oh, sweetheart, there there,” she cooed, gingerly placing a foreleg around the young Alicorn's neck. “Go on, tell me all about it.”

Cadence looked up at her, her burgundy-coloured eyes filled to the brim with tears. “I... I... I was just delivering my invitations for my wedding, and... and the next thing you know...” Cadence broke into another series of wretched sobs. “Twilight Sparkle... she... s-he tried to hit on me! And then she told me she was in oestrous, and it was so gross, and... and...!”

She reburied her head in her aunt's chest again, weeping.

Celestia's mouth, which was halfway between forming a smile and a motherly frown, opened and closed a few times before replying.

“Oh. I see,” she said calmly, continuing to brush the young Princess's mane. “Well, Cadence, I'm sure it wasn't that bad. You know how strange and seemingly unwholesome that time of the month can be. But she only asked you for help because she trusts you implicitly, and that is not something to be afraid of. Oestrus is a beautiful, natural process, one that's necessary for us to live and grow. I'm sure Twilight meant no harm by it, and will probably be embarassed about it herself in a few days' time.” She gave Cadence what she hoped was a hopeful smile as the young alicorn peeked up at her.

“You don't sound very convinced,” Cadence said, sniffing.

“Well,” Celestia replied honestly, “I have to admit that I wasn't expecting it so soon. She usually writes me a letter about how she's feeling a few days before it kicks in, and then a few while it's happening, too.”

Cadnece looked aghast at the very thought. “Oh, gosh, Auntie! You don't read them, do you?”

Now Celestia allowed herself to chuckle in good humour, letting a wisp of a smile form on her face.

“Oh, Cadence. There's never any reason I wouldn't. They're not rude, after all. Twilight is a very rational, non-impulsive pony, and she likes to think things through. She might be a bit naive, as you no doubt discovered, but she never writes anything distasteful or disrespectful. And even if she did, she is still my student – whatever she might like to write – and while I'll admit she's not very much in touch with her feminine needs, I try to guide her as best I can. It is my duty as her mentor and a pony she trusts implicitly.” Celestia accompanied the stress on her words with a motherly smile and a raised eyebrow. "Hmm?"

Cadence shuddered. “Isn't it... gross?”

“No, not at all,” Celestia replied calmly, still stroking her niece's mane. “I trust all my students, past and present, and they trust me. They are able to tell me anything that bothers them without fear of repercussion, and I am able to share my knowledge with them freely. That is the strength of bond we share. I have been also alive to have seen what Twilight is going through hundreds, if not thousands of times.”

Crack!

Luna appeared from the nether a few paces away, rubbing her dark eyes with an unshoed forehoof and yawning sleepily, her long, dark mane slightly rustled.

“Sister?” Luna said, blinking wearily and glancing from Celestia to Cadence a few times. “What is all this racket?”

“Twilight's going crazy!” Cadence said anxiously, before Celestia could put a word in edgeways.

"Crazy?..." Luna repeated, her dark irises widening at the very thought. "Oh stars, should we go to her, or - ?"

Luna's worried musings were cut off by the tinkling laughter of Celestia, who turned her head to nuzzle Cadence affectionately. “Oh, Cadence!” she tutted. “Now that couldn't possibly be right. I'm sure it was just her special time of year, and you had the misfortune to be in the wrong place at the wrong time.” She glanced up at her sister with a serious glare.

Heat, she mouthed. Luna's blue eyes widened in understanding.

“But you don't understand, Auntie!” Cadence said, rearing to place both of her golden-shoed forehooves upon Celestia's chest. “I've been having issues with my magic all day – just a few hours ago, I had the worst headache, and I miss-poofed a couple of times, and..." she lowered her voice to a bare whisper. "I think I've been accidently shocking a bunch of ponies with my horn!”

Celestia, for all her sagely wisdom, was slightly taken aback by the young alicorn's announcement. Her maternal smile unfaltering, she pondered her niece's words, humming thoughtfully.

“Hmm... are you proposing that you made Twilight Sparkle the way she was, my dear? She said carefully.

At this, Cadence blushed, pawing at the marbled tiles with an anxious hoof for a moment before replying.

“Maybe,” she said, rather sheepishly. “I am the element of love, after all...” she trailed off, biting her lip thoughtfully and hoping that it wasn't true.

“Well, I think that just sounds like magical overload,” Celestia said carefully. “You cannot just simply put somepony into oestrous, my dear. It arises as the result of several factors, such as the season, the day and their proximity to a pony they have feelings for. You are probably a pony she loves very much from the heart, and you were just in the wrong place at the wrong time.”

“Yes, but...” Cadence faltered slightly, still looking unsure. “My magic...”

“Is just a very strong manifestation of the stress you've been feeling of late, I'm sure,” Celestia said forcefully. “You have a wedding to plan. You stand upon the precipice of marehood, about to make a big jump in your life with the pony you love, and no doubt you must be a little worried.” But even before she'd finished her sentence, she could see in the filly's nervous eyes that Cadence was still unconvinced, and would not be swayed by mere words.

“Alright, then,” she said, without letting a hint of her weariness in edgeways. “Would you like me to see if there's anything wrong?”

Usually, Cadence would have backed off from such a request, and Celestia knew it. The one drawback with her darling niece was that she was far too modest, and most certainly never asked for anything more than was absolutely necessary, despite the fact that she worried about almost everything.

So it came as something of a surprise when Cadence nodded vigorously.

“Oh yes,” the young Princess said, lowering her head and closing her eyes. “That would be wonderful, thank you.”

Caught by her own bluff, Celestia lowered her own horn with a sullen frown. But it wasn't having to use her powerful magic that had her worried.

Surely it's just Cadence getting worked up over nothing, a small part of her said, quite rightly. She is only twenty-three.

All the same, another, older part of her replied as she closed her eyes, channelling magic to the tip of her horn. I'd better have a glance around. It probably is just wedding jitters, though.

Like two graceful swans forming an arc, their horns touched to form a heart, and, leaning deeply past Cadence's worried veneer, Celestia's phantasmal image slipped into Cadence's open mind.

The first thing that bothered Celestia was how very stuffy the inside of Cadence's mind was. No sooner had she opened the familiar door that her mind-spell had created, then she was hit by a blast of humidity and soggy dampness. For a moment, her image stood in the open doorway, blinking in surprise and taking a few deep breaths.

She peered through the doorway she'd created.

The mind, like a pure representation of its owner, was usually ornamented with precious memories and core beliefs. For Celestia's purposes, though, the mind was often a much deeper and chaotic place. It could indeed be 'read' with magic as the scribes of old had wrote, but only so far in that she could see any obstruction or abnormality of magical energy, or, if she felt so inclined, to view the individual threads of logic that made up a thought.

Such threads often wove themselves into intricate realities of the caster's choosing, and for Celestia, the mind was built like an ancient temple.

Only this time, rather unusually, it had been tossed into a swelteringly hot jungle.

Ignoring the clamminess of the air around her, her image took a few steady steps into the temple's massive atrium, glancing around at the dusty brick walls. On them were inscribed dozens of hieroglyphs, pictures and equestrian runes, each one of them their own monument to what was on Cadence's mind. In the centre of the room lay an artisan marble basin of Celestia's own spellcraft – a thought-well, from which the memories she wished to procure would take visible form.

She would have liked to have taken the time to explore her niece's mind. As a young filly at heart, Cadence had never taken to sharing things with her own parents, let alone Celestia herself, and that meant that comparatively little of her life was known to the sun alicorn. But she respected her niece's privacy, and was not about to pry where she knew she would be unwanted. Of the many hundreds of things in there that fascinated her, she only sought one thing, and that was thoughts pertaining to Twilight Sparkle. The fastest way to find that was through Cadence's relationship tree.

After five minutes of searching aimlessly, she found it by the doorway she'd come in, half-way up the left wall – a carving of a tall oak tree topped with a golden crown, with dozens of crisscrossing carvings, ropes and chains to represent the relationship they shared with Cadence and each-other. Everypony that had ever meant something to Cadence was in here, and much to her own delight, she spotted her own kindly face just below the centre of the tree, along with a shimmering rune that she knew to mean 'Great Teacher'.

She resisted the urge to smile, and looked up towards the tip of the main trunk, to where Cadence's picture smiled back at her. Adjoining it by two interwoven golden chains and a heart-shaped gem was a carving of Shining Armour, framed in a cute little heart of pink energy. Adjacent to Shining Armour was a portrait of her student, Twilight Sparkle, the source of Cadence's worries.

Trotting forward, Celestia peered closely at the picture of Twilight. There were four braided ties running from it, three of which were golden, and one of which was silver. The golden ones she knew to mean family, and linked in turn to portraits of her parents and brother, but it was the silver thread of 'dear friend' that she wanted to examine.

Celestia's image leaned forward, touching the thread with a hoof. Immediately, it began to glow, and a soft whooshing noise accompanied a soft wind that brushed against her mane gently.

Like an ancient scientist, Celestia's image turned to glance at the thought-well, curious for what she might see.

In the real world, Celestia frowned from behind closed eyes. There was, before her mind's eye, a large magical presence contained within the thread. She made her illusion blink once or twice just to make sure it was there – but there it was, as real as day. A large ball of humming, rose-coloured energy.

Like a brilliant sphere of shimmering water, it appeared to be a solid and a liquid at the same time, and its surface rippled like a recently disturbed pool of water, though the sphere was suspended in place by some unknown force.

Inside Cadence, the shade of Celestia raised an ethereal hoof, and touched the sphere's shimmering surface. The sphere pulsed once, and suddenly flashed.

“A-ah!”

Celestia's eyes snapped open, and she withdrew her image in an instant, ever-wary of causing her niece pain.

Oh, how far from the truth she was.

Cadence's eyes were closed. She was clearly still asleep, and had been since the beginning of Celestia's spell, but some change had come over her. Her mouth was just open, her breath heavy and audible.

But Celestia's attention was drawn instantly to the surge of magical energy that was making its way up the length of Cadence's horn at an alarming rate, and –

“Oh!” Cadence cried, as a gush of sparks sprayed from the horn's pearly tip.

As swift as light itself, threads of Celestia's magic spun themselves into a tight arcane barrier. With hardly a second to spare in the matter, she decided to protect herself rather than contain Cadence's rather violent outburst. From inside her golden shield, could hear the and see Cadence's magical sparks fizzling upon as they contacted her own, like little sky-blue coloured darts.

But as swiftly as the moment had come, it had vanished. Cadence's horn was dormant once more, and the crystal princess yawned once as she awakened, blinking her eyes sleepily. Celestia dropped her shield quickly, not wanting to worry her niece.

“Mmm..." Cadence mumbled, sitting up on her flank so she could rub her eyes. "Did you find anything?”

In the brief interim of Cadence's blindness, Celestia looked up at Luna, her mouth half-open.

“Yes,” Celestia said flatly, silently imploring her sister for a moment of inspiration.

Far from being helpful, though, Luna was wearing a shocked, wide-eyed expression that could only have come about from seeing something that she hadn't anticipated on seeing.

“I... we... we shall leave thou to it,” Luna managed, watching Cadence with a mixture of embarrassment and regretful schadenfreude. She trotted from the throne room as quickly as she thought she could manage without losing any of her regality, an effort made entirely useless by the fact that her usually royal blue coat had turned a dull shade of plum around her cheeks.

Celestia watched her go, seething. So Luna was ditching her, too? She resolved to get her younger sister back for this later. Maybe she'd hide the xbox. Maybe she'd replace it with a sack of bananas and feign ignorance.

Yes, that seemed right. The banana fairy always did come around whenever Celestia was feeling sour, after all.

“Cadence,” Celestia began, once the throne doors had slammed shut. “I don't mean to pry, but when was the last time you were in heat?”

The young Princess jerked her head up, a usually-dormant frown crossing her youthful face.

“Uhhm,” she said thoughtfully, putting a hoof to her lip. “About last Tuesday, I think.”

Celestia blinked.

“I'm sorry?” she said, not fully understanding.

“Oh no, wait – it was two days ago,” Cadence said, with a satisfied smile. “Yeah. That seems about right. Sorry," she added, with an apologetic smile, "It just happens so often that I sometimes forget.”

Still frowning, still unsure how to reply, Celestia fumbled for a brief moment.

“Cadence, how can you be in heat every week?” she said, somewhat astonished.

The young princess's eyes widened.

“Is that not normal?” she said, slightly worried.

“No, it isn't,” Celestia replied, as lightly as she could. “Most ponies only go through heat once every year.”

At this, Cadence's eyes widened even more.

“What do you mean?” The young mare's voice was filled with alarm.

Inwardly, Celestia grimaced. She had told Cadence's parents multiple times that taking the girl in for private tutelage did not mean she would have to explain the birds and the bees. She made a wry mental note to send them a 'thank-you' banana later.

“Well,” she replied, sucking up her annoyance with a deep breath. “The oestrous cycle happens to everypony. It's a very normal thing to happen to ponies in spring. It hits some ponies later than others, and–”

“Wait, oestrous?” Cadence whinnied rather loudly, jerking her head back like she'd been slapped. “I thought we were talking about heat?”

Celestia stared at her young niece, her great mind slowly ticking over as it added two and two.

“Cadence,” she said slowly. “I don't think you realise. Oestrous is heat.”

Cadence's reaction was one of mixed worry, unsureness, and then complete shock.

“W-wait." Cadence swallowed. "Are you telling me?...”

“Yes...” Celestia replied grimly, nodding her affirmation.

Now it was Cadence's turn to let the cogs in her head crunch together. When she'd finally worked it out, she gasped.

“That... that sort of behaviour is normal? That every mare acts that way?”

“Only during the spring,” Celestia replied, still frowning. “I'm surprised you haven't noticed it by now? Surely you and Shining Armour have discussed it, unless...” she trailed off lamely as a little thought in the back of her head sprung up.

It was only logical. Cadence was not a ditzy doo, nor was she a derpy, and the subject wasn't exactly something that was... easily discussed, for lack of a better term. She'd met stallionswho'd never heard of oestrous before, and that was fine, because it wasn't exactly something stallions would talk about beyond a classroom - but for a mare to have not heard of it could only mean one thing.

“But oestrous has never happened to me before!” Cadence blurted out, mortified.

Ding-a-ling. A little bell rang in the back of Celestia's head, and the ringer's name was 'worry'.

“Cadence,” she said slowly and carefully. “Are you absolutely sure?"

“What? No!” Cadence replied, looking both mortified and disgusted. “I'd never be so... so gross!"

Celestia resisted the urge to gnaw on her lip.

“Tell me, what did you think 'being in heat' was?” she pressed.

“I thought it was those hot flushes that I get every now and again,” the young girl replied, once again thoughtful. “You know, because they're all heated and stuff.”

“...I see,” Celestia said carefully, though she didn't entirely understand. “And how do you deal with these flushes?”

The crystal princess cocked her head thoughtfully. “Well, I go outside, find ponies who are fighting or quarreling, and spread my love to them.”

“And then these hot flushes go away?”

“Right!” Cadence said happily. "And the ponies go back to loving eachother."

“And how long has this - have these flushes been happening?”

“I dunno,” Cadence replied, with a shrug. “They just sort of started one day, and, well... I figured out how to stop them. I just thought it was something to do with my love magic, and nothing ever happened, so I never asked anypony about it.”

Celestia shook her head.

“So you've been putting off oestrous? Skipping your cycles?” she frowned. “That can be dangerous for a young mare like you.”

“Skipping them?” Cadence said, confused. “I don't know what there is to skip!”

Celestia sighed, and shook her head. “Oh come, now,” she began, with all the patience of a saint – but a train of thought gave her pause. “Cadence, do these flushes happen more in spring?”

“Well, yes, they do,” Cadence replied. “I only really get them around this time of year, though this year they seem kind of hard to beat.”

Slowly, painfully, the realisation of what Cadence was telling her hit home.

Her Niece's evident anxiety.

Her strange, unusual questions for a filly - no, a mare her age.

And most importantly, her disgust at what should have been a perfectly familiar process.

“Cadence, oestrous usually happens in the spring,” she said wearily, putting a hoof to her forehead. “If you've been getting rid of this feeling every year with your love magic, then...”

It took a moment for Cadence to catch up.

“Oooh!" she said, as innocent as the day she was born. "So I've actually been in oestrous before?”

“Yes and no,” Celestia murmured, shutting her eyes. “You have, but you've been putting it off with your magic without realising it, it seems. I take it you've never...” she trailed off again grimly.

“Never what?”

There were several colourful euphemisms floating around in Celestia's head for what she had in mind, but some part of her didn't want to trial them on Cadence just now, as undoubtedly funny as they would be.

“Had the overwhelming desire to mate,” she said, calmly.

Cadence balked furiously. “Oh, no!” she objected, even taking one or two steps back and shaking her head furiously. “No way! No no no nononono!”

“Well,” Celestia said, feeling slightly apprehensive, “I don't believe that's very normal or healthy. Even if you are an alicorn, you should obey normal estrous cycles, although...” She paused, pensively. “Neither your aunt or I experience them anymore.”

Cadence, momentarily torn from her own problems, scrunched up her nose.

“Eww... you were in heat once?”

The silliness of Cadence's question aside, Celestia's mind flitted back to the last time she'd been in heat, and she allowed a small smile to grace her cheeks. How many stallions had she floored on her own? ten, twenty, thirty royal guards? It was definitely sixty before she even began to feel a little out of breath. It was a long time ago, certainly, but three hundred years was not out of memory.

And it never would be. Ca-ching! Off to the royal memory bank with you, my pretty.

“Well, yes,” she replied, skipping over the gruesome details and feeling extremely grateful that every last document pertaining to the event had been destroyed. “But that is a very normal part of being a pony. Alicorn or not, it worries me that you've never been in heat before.” She gave her niece a solemn look. “In fact, I could even see it, contained like a giant bubble before me. The question is, are you feeling better now?”

The alicorn of love shuddered slightly.

“Yes and no,” she replied. “I mean, whatever you did helped a bit, but I... for some reason I feel sort of... dirty.”

Celestia held her tongue. She was not about to explain the intricacies of a horngasm if Cadence hadn't ever beaten the heat before.

“Well, we're going to have to deal with this,” Celestia said, looking very intently at Cadence.

“What do you mean?” Cadence asked.

“You can't just keep skipping oestrous like that.”

“Why not?”

Celestia blinked. It was a legitimate question, albeit one she hadn't been expecting.

“Well,” she said, “for a starters, it's highly unnatural to skip even one cycle, though some mares do, much to their own detriment, and... and it can seriously impact your mental health. Among other things,” she swiftly added, her mind flitting back to a large reservoir of wine she'd once broken into after a particularly lengthy dry spell. “You've skipped many more then that. I can't actually say what will happen, but I can guarantee you that at some point the dam of those feelings will burst, and it's not going to be pretty. It's going to be very volatile. So you're going to have to sort it out.”

“...What do you mean?” Cadence inquired again, this time more slowly and cautiously. “What do you mean, 'it's not going to be pretty?'”

AAARGH! The Princess groaned again internally, letting out a great sigh. The poor girl was worse than Luna. Why couldn't any of her relatives be normal?

“I mean,” she said rather painfully, “That you're going to have to sort that issue out with the help of Shining Armour. Or else you're going to end up like Twilight, except ten times as worse.”

“I don't even...” Cadence began to say, before pausing.

Cadence stared at her, and Celestia could see her emotions taking turns controlling her face. Fearful, alarmed, embarassed, surprised. Panic, worry, blushing and astonishment, all in a perfect loop.

For a second.

And then, just like that, it jumped to fearful, fearful, fearful and more fearful.

“Wait... are you really telling me to...?”

“Well, that's how most ponies with special someponies deal with it,” Celestia added quickly, attempting to mitigate the fallout. “You just have to share all that love with somepony else. That's normal.”

Inwardly, Cadence wretched. The mere suggestion of what her aunt was saying frightened her beyond words.

“No,” she said, rather simply.

“Yes,” Celestia replied, matter-of-factly. “You're going to have to deal with this somehow, Cadence. Now, I know it's scary, but –”

Cadence never even let her finish. Instead, she jumped back with a little frightened whinny, as if her aunt was a venomous spider.

“You're telling me to embrace it!?" she said, feeling her voice heighten in pitch and volume. "You want me to turn into some kind of... some kind of sex-crazed animal?”

The sun Alicorn winced at her reaction. “Look, Cadence, It's not that bad,” she said, frankly. “All that happens is that you have some funny urges, and then you go back to normal...”

“I don't want to be asking Twilight to do that, though!” Cadence blurted out.

For the umpteenth time, Celestia looked as if she was taken aback, and she held a hoof up for pause.

“Wait, wait, slow down,” the sun princess said. “What exactly did you mean when you said 'Twilight was hitting on you?'”

“What do you think I mean!?” Cadence replied, her voice cracking a little in anxiety. “She asked me if I wanted to... you know!”

Celestia stared blankly at her for a bit. “Well that's certainly not normal,” she said, after the longest of pauses. “Not normal at all. I will have to go and write her a letter or two after we're done talking.”

Cadence was distraught. “And you're telling me that I'm going to be like that, whether or not I like it!?”

Well, no,” she replied with a wince, tipping a hoof left and right in a so-so fashion. “You just have to find a way to share your love so that this doesn't happen again. What happened to Twilight was abnormal, certainly, and I will look into it – but it doesn't necessarily mean it's something you've done, and it doesn't mean you'll end up that way. It could simply be Twilight being Twilight. Your horn discharging we will see to. The two may not be related at all, dear. And as for your skipping of your cycle, I suggest you remedy it in a controlled fashion, one where you're comfortable with sharing your love."

Another pause. Cadence teetered on the verge of bursting into tears once again.

"Maybe you could simply help yourself achieve some release?" Celestia hinted unhelpfully.

Still frightened and close to a breakdown, Cadence shivered a little, totally unwilling to comprehend what she'd just heard.

“I... I will not!” she said as stubbornly as she could manage.

Celestia only replied with a sigh.

“Well, look. I know it must be it's a lot to handle,” The Sun Princess said, running a hoof through her great mane in weariness. “Why don't you go and think about your wedding, and we can talk about this later, once you've had some time to think it over. Does that sound alright? In the meantime, I'll go and check on Twili–oh.” Celestia suddenly looked thoughtful again.

“...What is it?” Cadence replied, the hint of uncertainty in her Aunt's mannerisms worrying her.

“Oh, horsefeathers,” her Aunt murmured flatly. “Cadence, you mentioned you'd been... shocking ponies all morning... , right?”

The reply came before the thought. “Yes, I –”

Cadence clamped her mouth shut, throwing a hoof over it, mortified.

She stared at her Aunt, suddenly aware of the potential tangle she was in. Celestia looked back down at her, unamused.

“Well, we might have a problem, then.”

Wonderbolts Trials

The Wonderbolts preliminary trials.

One of the few times of the year where everypony that anypony knew as 'up and coming' in the world of flying and athleticism gathered in the same place to test their strength, speed and skill for the most coveted of prizes: a spot at the Wonderbolts flight camp.

The holiest of holies. The nirvana of pegasi. And she got to pick the five lucky stallions and fillies that made it through. Truly, it was the best time of year for her, the hype of her off-season. Truly, only the finest and the brightest would prevail through the three difficult tests before them, and end up making the camp, with the hopes of joining the wonderbolt's legendary training squad. Grandeur, skill, and ambition - she could see it all before her, the conflicting emotions of pride and nervousness plastered across the face of every hopeful young pegasi, and the glimmer of their sweat as they warmed up – not unlike the sweat they'd shed in the months of training before today, in early mornings and sleepless nights. It was sweat of fear, sweat of determination, sweat born from the rigorous training required to be the very best.

The joy of victory. The tears of defeat. The crush of disappointment. The resolve to try again next year. The thrill of competition. The burning thud of the blood in your veins as you pulled off the perfect race, or acrobatic routine. She loved it all with a passion.

Indeed, it was truly a special time for Spitfire, all-star and captain of the Wonderbolts.

So why, oh, why did this one special time of year happen to coincide with another certain special time of year?

Spitfire eyed the throng of ponies gathered in the centre of the otherwise empty stadium, and ground her teeth.

She'd tried to take a few days of sick leave from the board of directors, but they wouldn't take 'illness' for an answer. In fact, the spokestallion for the board, a brown pegasi with a mop of fair black hair, had even dared to turn the issue back on her, as if going into heat was something she could control.

“You've left it this late without some kind of replacement,” the chair-stallion had said. “We can't cancel it now. You'll just have to work through it.”

She pointed out that he was not a mare, and could not possibly understand the dilemna of wanting to either punch or mate with every suitable stallion that came within five yards. The chairstallion had coughed in an attempt to hide his embarrassment.

“Ahem, well, yes. Be that as it may, there are treatments for these things. Perhaps if you had given us more notice of your intentions...”

Spitfire and the chairstallion had left the meeting ten seconds later – him rather hurriedly, with a ripped shirtfront and a bloody nose, and her restrained by security while she hurled insults at him.

She wondered whether or not that had signaled her 'intentions' clearly enough.

Back in the box, a sponsored team of young male pegasi sped past the window as part of a warmup flight around the stadium, their uniforms and jerseys all slathered with hundred thousand-bit brands. Spitfire stamped a back hoof and huffed bitterly.

It was not an unbearable sensation, she would readily admit. Like many mares, she'd simply deal with it as she'd dealt with it the Spring before - with lots and lots of cold baths. They worked for a little bit, but there was only so much cold water could do, and her proximity to a thousand sweating stallions at the peak of their physique was most certainly not helping her cope. She'd also tried a few herbal remedies to cool her off – and they too had worked, to some degree – but she still got butterflies in her stomach whenever she caught a young stallion eyeing her off.

Which, to make matters more annoying, was happening a lot lately.

Maybe it was the newly-designed skintight airsuit she was wearing. She knew it accentuated a few of her body's finer points, though she preferred not to think of dozens of colts gaping at her as she performed in front of large crowds. It gave her two equally strong urges – one to be sick everywhere, and the other to, err... well, you know. By random chance, both sets of urges put her nerves so far on edge that she felt like she was in an endless sugar crash, and both of them had something to do with the butterflies in her stomach that just wouldn't seem to go away.

Spitfire frowned thoughtfully. One day, she'd invent a cure for butterflies. She'd sell it under a name-brand and make millions. Carefully, she filed the thought under 'not bad' in her list of semi-delirious, heat ridden ideas.

While she was on the ground, she'd tried borrowing Soarin's oversized grey hoodie to try and remedy the situation with her flight suit, but that hadn't really helped either. This was because Soarin' was extremely lazy, and like all adolescent stallions between 18 and 25, he never cleaned up after himself. His thousand-bit apartment was a sty, and he didn't shower immediately after going to the gym, instead preferring to lounge around turning whatever room he was in into a sweaty, smelly bin of testosterone.

Add to that the fact that he hardly washed his clothes, and...

No sooner had Spitfire pulled the cotton hoodie over her head, then she was treated to a lungful of Soarin's utterly delicious masculine scent, and ohgoddesscelestiaohgodgetitoffgetitoffgetitoff!

Back in the box, Spitfire trembled in a mixture of delicately-balanced hormones and disgust. Yes, Soarin' was her teammate. Yes, they were good friends. But no, they had never been together, and no, for the love of Celestia, no, she had absolutely no desire to remedy that non-problem anytime soon.

For one, she was a good deal older than him. She was twenty-three, the confident wonderbolts veteran with the world at her hooves. He was just nineteen, a rookie of one season, a mere colt by comparison. In her mind, she knew she preferred stallions that had seen more of the world – like ones that took her out to nice dinners, ones that wanted something a little more than a casual rut, like love. And she was perfectly fine with that train of logic - the snide sneerings of her inner desire had always played second fiddle to rational thought.

So why did her body betray her by being so... so very naked at the merest thought of him? Just the thought of his coat touching hers, his muscled forelegs rippling with power as he held her down tightly, those keen sea-blue eyes of his penetrating her soul as he panted and - AGH!

She clenched her eyes shut, expunging the thoughts from her mind, and suppressing the overwhelming desire to be hideously ill.

She heard the door to the private box open and close, but did not turn to grant the intruder any notice. Ponies were always coming in and out of the box – organising things with the support team that were in the room next door and chatting with the senior coaches who sometimes milled around near the whiteboard, discussing the trials to come.

But they didn't approach her. Unlike the board of directors, the pegasi that worked alongside her felt enough sympathy to try and keep things out of her mane unless they absolutely had to.

“Sup, Spit?” said a youthful, chirpy voice.

Unless of course, you were Soarin'. In which case, your objective was to be as stupid as possible.

Outwardly, Spitfire sighed with exasperation. Inwardly, she struggled to contain a shudder.

“Oh, nothing,” she replied casually, rolling her eyes a little. “Just eyeing off some recruits.”

Soarin trotted up beside her. She saw his eyes flit to the binoculars about her neck, and he gave her a cheeky grin, waggling his eyebrows.

“Eying off some promising talent?” He said, laughing and giving her a gentle nudge. “Eh? Nudge nudge, wink wink, say no more?”

Usually, she enjoyed the young rookie's company, as much of a lughead as he could be. Like a Labrador dog, he was a devoted companion, and he never stopped smiling or trying to make her laugh with his best jokes and unavoidably infectious enthusiasm. Usually, she would have smiled at him, or at least cheered up at his attempt at humour, a little, gentle gift from him to her to make her working day easier.

Usually.

Today, she closed her eyes, inhaled deeply, and exhaled, resisting the urge to strangle her teammate with her bare hooves.

“Soarin',” she said, her voice dripping with venom. “Heat.”

The stallion's grin dropped off his face like it had been roped to an anvil.

“Oh. Right. Sorry,” he mumbled, looking ashen faced. “Um... would you like me to leave you alone, then?”

She blinked in amazement, surveying the young, sky-blue pegasi and his considerate question with sizable astonishment. It came as something of a surprise to her, what with Soarin's usual capacity to be serious only slightly less than that of the carpet beneath her hooves. She eased up a little.

“Actually, you can stay and talk to me, if you want,” she offered, feeling slightly less on edge. “I guess it is pretty lonely up here. I shut myself off from unnecessary contact after this morning.”

Upon realising what she was referring to, Soarin's eyes widened, and his mouth narrowed to a small 'o'.

“Oooooooh,” he said, before sucking up a breath through his teeth. “Yikes. That would NOT have been fun for you.”

Fan photos.

She was a wonderbolt. She'd arrived with the rest of the wonderbolts. There were fans. They wanted photos. It was as simple as that. The competitors were also pretty avid enthusiasts, so for the first half an hour of that morning they'd done some mingling with the crowd of hopefuls and fanponies alike. Thankfully, most fans asked for simple things, like signatures on their photographs, or merchandise. Others got more cocky. A couple of the bolder young colts had asked for a kiss on the cheek, and she, being the legendarily attractive captain of the wonderbolts, was bound to oblige...

“Yeah. Not fun. At all.” Spitfire deadpanned, wrenching her mind off of a particularly randy buck who had turned his head at the last second, stealing a smooch on the lips. She'd played that one off well, making a great deal of fuss and laughing over his bravado, when in reality she'd been ready to tear his heart out and sacrifice it to C'thulu. In the end, she had to be satisfied with security simply full-body-tackling him to the ground.

“Well, I hope you're feeling alright now,” Soarin' replied, turning a pointed forehoof against the carpet and looking genuinely remorseful.

Again, Spitfire found herself frowning inwardly at his rather unusual compassion. He hadn't even done anything wrong, and that was just about the only time Soarin' was reticent about anything.

“Yeah, I am,” she said, offering him a light smile, the first she'd had that day. “Thanks. It'll get easier as time goes on.”

Soarin' pursed his lips and nodded sagely, and together, the two of them surveyed the field of competitors in silence.

“Soooo,” Soarin' mused, breaking the silence. “You feeling horny right now?”

She hit him. Hard.

“Oww,” Doctor Whooves whined. “My precious cranium! And my precious rear end, too!” He plucked himself gingerly out of Twilight’s rose bushes.

Doctor Whooves was very unlucky. All his life, he’d shown a knack for being in the wrong place at the wrong time, which always lead to him getting into trouble. He’d moved to the tiny town of Ponyville from the big city of Hoofington in order to alleviate his bad luck, but had only enjoyed moderate success in the matter.

Just a few weeks before, he’d been out for a lovely midday stroll - a perfectly harmless and innocuous activity enjoyed by the gentleman and commoner alike - when all of a sudden, he’d been savagely mugged by a ferocious young earth filly, bullying him into buying her Apples.

Then there was the time he’d taken a trip up to Canterlot for the royal wedding – god save the queen, of course – only to spend most of it being chased by horrid bug-like changelings, intent on devouring his soul. That had been the least relaxing holiday ever.

Wait. Had that happened yet? He pondered exactly which time-line he was in as he enjoyed his midday stroll. It was more than an occasional occurrence for him to forget exactly when he was, and so he made a habit of remembering all the details of the 'now'.

No, he'd decided. That was yet to come. The physical and mental trauma on his end, however, had most certainly come and gone, and he was in need of a lovely break.

Why, today, all he’d wanted to do all morning was borrow a book from the lovely librarian! He’d taken his time, eaten a lesiurely breakfast, and walked down to the library - and then, before he could say ‘pears’, he’d been bashed into a bushel of briars by a screaming door.

Or whoever had been behind the door, anyway. He clambered to all fours and peered up and down the street, trying to identify his assailant, but there was nopony in sight.

He turned back to the door, slightly suspicious. What foreign magic was this door capable of?

Crouching low, he stalked into the library, expecting an ambush at any second. And when he saw what was inside, he knew exactly why.

The inside of the library was a disaster. Or at least, a somewhat imperfect disaster.

The shelves were immaculately clean, the furniture was polished and gleaming, and the large reading cushions were all neatly tucked into their right place on the hardwood floor. In fact, everything was in its perfect place, barring the books themselves, which appeared to have been torn from their shelves and cast into a great pile with such reckless abandon that some of them were lying face down.

He gasped at the travesty of literature before him. What pony would have done such a thing?

Nopony, that's for sure, his brain replied. Yes. NoPONY.

More by reflex and less by suspicion, he reached for the screwdriver that he kept in the little hidden pouch on his jacket-front. Withdrawing it, he advanced slowly into the library.

Of course, he hadn't taken more than a single step before he slipped on a book, dropping the sonic device. It bounced off an angled hardback and vanished underneath the sea of books on the floor.

“Oh... shit!” He muttered angrily, in a very not-British sort of way. “Err, I mean, sod it.” Quickly, he descended to ground level, panning around for it.

“Hello?” Called a meek voice, from somewhere beneath the mountain of books in front of him.

Whooves focused on the centre of the small hillock, not daring to move, still lying so flat that he was nearly prone.

“Yes, hello?” he called back cautiously. “Is anypony, uh... under there?”

In response, Twilight Sparkle's head emerged from the paper ocean, in a small eruption of hard-backed books. She blinked at him once or twice, looking slightly dazed.

“Ah! Hello, Twilight.” Whooves managed, concealing his surprise.

“Hiya,” the disembodied head of Twilight replied. “What are you doing?”

Given that the mare before him was neck-deep in a pile of books, the absurdity of the question was not lost on the Doctor. It was merely misplaced in light of the fact that he was nearly commando crawling along the floor.

“I, uh... I wanted to borrow a book,” he said half-truthfully, quickly straightening up. “Tell me, what just burst out of your library, screaming blue murder?” he inquired, as politely as he could.

“Oh, um... that was Princess Cadence. I might have scared her off.” Twilight winced, and raised herself slowly out of the pile of books. “Oops.”

“Scared her off?”

“Y-yeah, you know,” she said, shaking off an open copy of Celestia Shrugged from her rear, and coming forward to meet him. “I, err, hid behind a bookshelf and jumped out at her. Boo. Scary. And I really wish I hadn’t done that,” she said, her ears drooping. “It was pretty dumb of me. That's why, um, my books are everywhere too.”

“...Riiiight,” the Doctor replied with a fake smile.

O-kay, he thought tentatively. She’s a little weird. But you’ve always known that.

“Anyway,” he said, glancing up at the shelves as he furiously battled against the forces of awkwardness. “I was wondering if you could help me find a boo-” ,

The unicorn mare, who had been frowning at him, leaned forward and plucked a thorny stem from his mane, cutting him off mid-sentence.

“A rose? Was this for me?” she said, holding the rose in one hoof.

“Is what for you - oh!” The doctor’s mouth hung ajar for a second as he clapped eyes on the rather fortunately-placed rose. “Uh, why yes, I think it was.”

The librarian’s cheeks coloured, and she shied, looking at the wooden floor and tracing little circles upon it with a pointed forehoof.

“W-wow, really?” She said meekly. “For me?”

“Uh-huh,” the doctor replied, grinning.

“Wow,” Twilight repeated, slightly breathless. “I-I don’t think anypony’s ever given me a rose before. I mean - it’s not like stallions don’t ask me out or anything, it’s just... well, you know what I mean.” she gave him an awkward smile, blushing furiously. She did her best to hide the fact that she was almost the same shade as the rose by scrutinising it closely, which, unfortunately for the young librarian, did not help in the slightest.

Inwardly, Dr. Whooves smiled to himself. Nice thinking Whooves, you devil! You're a genius! He gave Twilight a cursory glance. And hey, she's pretty cute, too. Maybe you can play this to your advantage?

Twilight, on the other hoof, looked torn between something, like she was wracked by some hidden dilemna, or she was looking for something to say. She glanced up at him, her brow furrowed slightly, and she gnawed on her lip for a moment.

“So just sitting in my library isn't gonna work out, huh?” she mumbled quietly to herself.

“I'm sorry?” The Doctor replied, with a set of raised eyebrows.

“Oh, I was just saying that... I... I love it!” She finished, rather lamely. “It’s just like the ones in my garden.”

“Yes,” Doctor Whooves replied levelly, not giving anyway anything. “Yes it is.”

The unicorn mare looked over at him doubtfully, as if deciding on something. Then, she leaned forward and scooped him into a quick, awkard, nerdy hug.

“Well, it's very sweet of you,” she said, blushing.

The Doctor, who was too busy to notice anything except for female contact, looked up at the sky (well, the leafy roof) and performed the tiniest of hoof-pumps.

See? It wasn’t that hard, he thought happily. I bet with that trottingham accent and studly charm, you’ll have them falling over you in droves!

Midway through rejoicing, he felt something snag in his coat. Twilight immediately flinched against him, jerking her head away as though she’d been shocked.

“Ow!” she cried, looking rather alarmedly down at a foreleg. “Something poked me!...” She leant forward, narrowing her eyes to examine the offending article. “Is that..."

She paused.

"Is that a rose thorn?”

“Oh, um, yes it is,” The Doctor replied, raising the hoof in front of his face and seeing the small, brown prickle jutting from his hoof. “How did that get there, I wonder?” He chuckled and brushed it away. “Must have been from the flower,” he added, with an apologetic smile – a smile that soon faded as he felt another stinging poke in his side. “Oh, bother, there's more of them. Sorry, Twilight, just give me a second. I’m a bit horny at the moment.”

The lavender librarian unsnaked her forelegs from around him and stepped away, turning a slight shade of red.

“Yeah, you aren’t the only one,” she muttered dryly under her breath.

“I’m sorry, what was that?” The Doctor said, looking up from preening the prickles out of his legs. Twilight jumped and put a hoof to her mouth, as if she'd let something slip out.

“Ah! Uh, heh-heh...” She lowered the hoof gingerly, and set it back on the floor. “I said, um, ‘let me just go and get a vase’. Y’know, for the rose.”

“Ah. Right.” He naively leaned back down, returning to his task.

“Oh! And thanks for helping me make up my mind,” Twilight's voice said as she retreated.

The Doctor looked up again at Twilight's departing rear, slightly confused. “Making up your mind on... what, precisely?”

“Spi~ike!,” Twilight called out, as she entered the adjoining kitchenette. “You can take the rest of the afternoon off!”

“Whoopee!” Yelled Spike’s voice from the back room. Whooves heard a loud thump from somewhere nearby, followed by rapidly padding footsteps and culminating in the slam of the back door.

“Looks like someone was keen to get away before you remembered to do something,” he called to Twilight. Twilight returned to the foyer shortly afterwards, with the rose resting in a ceramic vase.

“Oh, yes!” she replied emphatically. “He always does that, and I always remember something that needs doing the minute he’s gone. It gets really annoying, trust me. But that’s doesn’t matter today,” she added, setting the vase on the library table. “I have some important research I need to be doing. And it’s, um... not exactly the kind of stuff I’d want him to see.”

“Ah.” The doctor nodded knowingly, having forgotten his own plan to retrieve his screwdriver in favour of talking about books. “Continuing your studies on the ancient evils of Equestria?”

“Actually,” she replied, her horn summoning a particularly thick and dusty textbook from atop a high shelf and setting it down on the table. “This week, I’m trying to look into astrophysics.”

The doctor frowned, torn between asking exactly why Spike would be afraid of science, and the other, more polite question. He went with the latter.

“Oh, really? What are you studying, and for what purpose?”

“Oh, it’s fairly advanced stuff,” Twilight said, looking apologetic. “Quantum theory, advanced particle physics... you know.” she gave him a meek smile. “Advanced applications of string theory. I'm reading up on it because I'm busy exploring that little incident where there was two of me in the same time, a past me, and a present me, and – ” she forcibly cut herself off, mid-rant. “Basically, time-space manipulation.”

The Doctor blinked, frowning. “Like, say, travelling along the 4th dimension via the 5th?”

He saw Twilight’s ears prick a little.

“...You know a bit about science?” she asked, her keen lavender eyes widening in what he thought was a hopeful way.

“Well actually,” he said, resisting the urge to smile smugly, “I know more than a bit. I mean, I do have a degree in Advanced Theoretical Physics.”

He saw one of Twilight’s eyebrows rise in interest.

“Oh? I thought you were a medical doctor.”

“I am,” he replied (and this time, he allowed himself the smile). I actually have a Doctorate of Medicine too.”

The other eyebrow swiftly followed, and Twilight’s muzzle opened slightly in surprise, forming a perfect ‘o’ shape.

“Really?” she said, in a voice that made the fibres on the back of his neck prickle with warmth.

“Yes. Oh, I know I don’t exactly look like I’d be old enough to have either...” He cut himself off, glancing around nervously. “But, um... that's not to brag, or anything. Let's just say I have a lot of time on my whooves. I mean hooves.”

“Oh, I noticed,” Replied Twilight, who had in fact not noticed his slip at all. “You’re so young, and...” she paused. “...knowledgeable.”

He chuckled, shying away and feeling a shy, coltish blush hit his face.

“A-heh, thanks.”

And with that, court was in session. Currently residing, the right honourable Judge Awkward. Twilight shifted on her hooves, her eyes flitting between the still-present pile of upturned books, and the thick physics textbook on the little, round table that occupied one corner of the room.

“So, um... do you... do you want to read over these notes with me?” she said quickly, colouring furiously and stepping over to the book. “That is, only if you want to - I mean, just in case I need some help understanding them or something.”

The doctor was taken slightly aback. He had wanted to borrow a book about robots, not read one with Twilight, but he nodded anyway. Books were still books, after all, and he still needed to locate his screwdriver.

“Erm, sure, I’ll have a look. It sounds fairly interesting, and I'm sure I can help you out if you need it.”

He trotted over to the book, which, being an old, handmade thing, was so big that there was more than enough room to pour over the page side-by-side, and tucked himself in next to Twilight.

“So, where were you up to?” He said, giving her a slight smile. “I’m sure I’ll catch up if you fill me in.”

He felt Twilight twitch as he spoke, as if his words had pricked her with a needle. “Oh, um, right,” she muttered. “I was just up to here...”

She began to flick through the pages, a process that took several minutes due to the book’s size and volume.

“Hehe... cosy,” Twilight murmured, distractedly.

“Yep,” he said, giving her another sly glance again. He saw her perfect amethyst eyes cruise over the book just as quickly as if she was perusing a magazine.

What a brilliant mind, he thought to himself for a second. Who said nerdiness is unattractive in fillies?

At that moment, he decided there was something so wonderfully attractive about Miss Twilight Sparkle. Maybe it was the fact that she was a young, single librarian with a taste for geeky literature, and he was merely indulging in his long-willed (and very much unfulfilled) desire to interact with mares more often. After all, they were fairly interesting creatures.

“Oooh, here we are!” Twilight said, tapping a page and breaking his train of thought. “The god particle.”

Whooves glanced down at the page. “You mean the Higgs Boson, right?”

“Yes.” The mare shuffled a little closer to him, and he could just feel the warmth of her body to his left. “Can you... can you explain it to me?”

The doctor frowned, looking at Twilight with some confusion, partly as a result of her choice to lie a little too close to him, and partly because Twilight had just asked him to explain something.

The unicorn was watching him reproachfully, her nervous eyes darting back to the book every few seconds, as if she was incapable of holding his gaze.

“You need me to explain it to you?” he said, unsurely.

“Yes, please,” she replied, slightly breathless. “That would be... wonderful.”

Twilight’s insistence was a little jarring, as he knew she was a fairly studious pony who rarely needed 'explaining' to, but he obligingly nodded and smiled anyway. After all, it was nothing he wouldn’t do for a pretty mare like her.

“...Well, alright then.”

He put his eyes to the book, and began to read, translating the complicated terminology and physics jargon into words of his own as he did so.

“Well, the Higgs Boson isn't actually a hugely complex thing. It's an elementary particle in the standard model of physics. It has been predicted to exist for dozens of years for purely theoretical reasons...”

He continued in this way for a few minutes without a fuss, until he saw Twilight shift uncomfortably next to him, from out of the corner of his eye. He cast a glance at her, and saw that her cheeks were slightly flushed.

“Is there something wrong, Twilight?” he asked inquisitively.

“No, no!” the unicorn replied, a little too quickly. "Nothing at all. Yep. I'm al-right!" she gave him a half-hearted grin.

Doctor Whooves decided not to question the matter any further. He turned back to the book.

“...Anyway," he resumed, "there are several theories to support the existance of the Higgs. One particular theory is that a field exists that has non-zero strength, even in otherwise empty space, and that it and particles would accrue mass when... interacting with one another...”

He felt Twilight fidgeting beside him, shifting herself around again on folded fours, and eventually settling side-by-side with him. Now she was touching him - their bodies were directly next to each-other, and he could feel her warmth, and the hammering of her heart, and the electrical shivers of her coat whenever he said words like 'quantum electrodynamics'.

A shame the Doctor was far too enthralled in the book and his little lecture to even notice.

“...Now,” he said, with a knowing smile, drawing his lecture to a close. “If all that is true, then we should see a matching particle appear! The smallest, but most important–”

Her hot breath upon his neck broke his concentration, and his train of thought. He glanced to his left. Twilight was staring at him unabatedly, her mouth slightly open and panting.

“Excitation,” he finished, eyeing her warily.

There was an errant pause while the two ponies surveyed eachother. He frowned at her, entirely confused by her strange and rather flirtatious behaviour. He took a deep breath, and opened his mouth to continue -

The smell hit him like a freight train travelling at the speed of light in a vacuum.

(Finally, Dr. Whooves' usually-dormant testosterone kicked in, and he was taken by a very good idea).

“Miss Sparkle,” he said, raising one eyebrow and dialling his smokiness up to '11'. “Are you hitting on me?”

The answer was more than obvious. The librarian let out a shivering, shuddering, undeniably horny breath.

“Goddess, you are so hot,” she hissed.

A full-body unicorn tackle sent the Doctor flying for the second time in ten minutes.

The stallion known as Big Macintosh was also celebrating the lovely weather, in his own curious way.

It was a Saturday, so strictly speaking, he could (and should) have taken the day off. But there'd been talk of a thunderstorm sometime within the next week among the weatherponies, and it was set to be a doozy. He'd heard from Rainbow Dash that it was even worse than the pegasus-made one they'd had two days ago, so he wasn't taking any chances, getting as much work out of the way as he could before the storm came.

The first storm had been annoying – even now, two full days of sunshine later, the ground still hadn't completely dried out – but thankfully, its arrival had coincided with the start of the weekend, and his schedule hadn't been messed up too much. For Big Mac, the much larger, upcoming storm was the real worry.

But with that said, every stormcloud has a silver lining. And in the case of Big Macintosh, he had preparation. He decided that he'd rather spend his day off applebucking in the sunshine. That way, he could avoid catching a cold from working out in the rain, and he wouldn't lose any time to the storm whenever it came.

Big Mac cocked a back leg.

Thunk! A solitary hoof collided with the thick trunk of the aging apple, causing delicious, crispy red fruit to fall from its boughs in their dozens. As the apples found their destination, the baskets below the tree filled themselves up to the brim with a rumbling thokk-thokk-thokk, with not even a single one daring to bounce out onto the grassy orchard earth.

Big Macintosh surveyed his work momentarily, allowing a satisfied smile to grace his face. Perfect, once again.

(Actually, he felt a little guilty. Being best pony almost made the job a little too easy).

He moved onto the next tree, casually trotting past the flat stump of an old oak, and not at all noticing the butter-yellow pegasus sitting atop it.

“Hi,” she said.

Big Macintosh jumped and gasped, doing a quick double-take to where the pegasus mare sat.

“Ah! O-oh, g'mornin, Fluttershy.”

“Good morning, Big Mac,” Fluttershy replied, smiling sweetly. “How are you today?”

That was weird. She never called him Big Mac. It was always 'Big Macintosh', or, more regularly, just a shy 'hello' without any name. He turned away, if only to disguise his embarrassment at the fact that she'd frightened the wits out of him.

"Ah'm alright, thanks," he replied, nodding his head reflexively. “How about you?”

"Oh, I've been fantastic lately.”

Fantastic. That was a strong word for Fluttershy. Considering that she hardly bothered with words at all, let along strong ones, he found himself cocking his head curiously.

“What happened?” he inquired.

“Well,” she replied, her usually meek face perking into a cute little grin, “I ran into Princess Cadence this morning, and she gave me an invitation to her wedding, and I've... I've just been feeling so great all morning, really!”

The big farmer whistled.

“Wow, an invitation to the Royal shindig, huh? So ah guess you've been up to Rarity's to order yer new dress?"

Fluttershy's smile faltered, and she dragged a hoof along the ground awkwardly.

“Uhm... well, after last time, I think I'll let her pick what's good for me.”

Big Macintosh tried not to chuckle, but he couldn't help himself, and it poured out of him like a miniature pall of thunder.

“Well alrighty then, that sounds good.” He turned back to the apple baskets beneath the tree.

“What about you? How's your week been?” she asked.

Fluttershy askin' me about mah week? Resisting the urge to pout his lip thoughtfully, he detailed his week in his slow, methodical way of speaking.

"Mmmm... a bit of this, a bit of that. Farm business and apple season is keepin' me pretty busy, I hafta admit. Ah got some chores that need doin – the barn door needs fixin, an the weather ain't helpin' none, either, so ah guess it's been a bit of a hard week."

“Want me to make it easier?”

His head came up so fast that he felt his neck crick awkwardly.

“A-ah'm sorry?” he stammered, ignoring the pain in his neck.

Fluttershy jumped at the sudden movement, looking like a startled rabbit.

"Um, I said, have you ever considered hiring?... You know, to make it easier."

Big Macintosh blinked twice, his eyes narrowing.

Am ah goin' crazy?... ah.... ah must be. There's no way she coulda said that. He shook his head before replying. It's Fluttershy. There ain't a bad bone in her body.

"...Ah spose I haven't, really," he said, turning away and preparing to buck another apple tree.

“Well, is there any way I can help at all?” she asked, in her usual polite way.

Thunk! The apples fell in droves from the tree, but some of the more belligerent ones had stayed up in the higher branches. Big Macintosh frowned. Getting up onto his hind legs, he rested both of his mighty forehooves onto the tree trunk, preparing to shake the tree until they came loose.

"Uhh... I suppose...” He said, still partially distracted. “How would you be intendin' to help?"

"Oh, I don't know. Maybe I could assist you?... if that's okay with you."

Rustle, rustle, rustle. The tree creaked and groaned, and the apples tumbled to the earth.

“...Like how? Meanin' no offense, Fluttershy, but ah'm not sure yer' up to applebucking.” He clambered down off the tree.

“...Oh no, I didn't think I would be.” Her voice floated over to him from beside what used to be the old oak tree, all honesty and apology. “But you must need to rest sometime, right?”

Big Macintosh struck at the tree again, desperate to distract himself from her, but no apples were forthcoming.

“Eeyup, every night,” he said. “But Fl-”

“And you must get awfully tired after working hard allllllllll day in the orchard.”

There was an odd edge to Fluttershy's voice. It was one that he hadn't heard before from her, and for some reason, it made his heckles stand on end. Add to that she'd just cut him off mid-sentence...

He felt very justifiably uncomfortable, and a little worried about the possibility on his mind.

“Aheh... uh, eyup,” he said, kicking the tree again. Again, nothing fell.

If he didn't know any better, he'd swear that Fluttershy was hitting on him. He wasn't exactly a stranger to his little sister's friends, and while he'd been warned away from them multiple times by an overprotective (and slightly peeved) Applejack, her stern reprimand didn't stop her friends from doing exactly what they wanted. To be fair, he didn't object, and he wasn't a stranger to their flirting either – after all, that Rarity mare had wanted a piece of him ever since she'd clapped eyes on him. But this?...

It was around this time that Big Macintosh realised the tree he'd been bucking for the last minute was empty, and had been ever since he'd shaken the apples out of it.

He planted both back hooves on the ground, cursing his distraction, and he took a moment to rub the weariness from his eyes.

Maybe it's just the heat gettin' to me, he thought wearily. Yeah, that seems about right.

(In an awful, ironic twist, Big Macintosh was probably one of the few ponies in this story who the heat hadn’t gotten to.)

Big Macintosh opened his eyes, and nearly leapt out of his skin.

“GAAH!”

Sweet Celestia of Equestria, Fluttershy was close. VERY close. Through a machination of science and magic yet unknown to Ponykind, Fluttershy had somehow teleported from her comfortable seat to right behind him in complete silence, leaving her adorable little face now inches from his own.

He jerked his head away again and took an ungainly step backwards, doing his best not to scream.

Dangit, boy, he said to himself, attempting to gain control of his racing heart. Get a grip. It's Fluttershy.

“How about I give you a nice massage, hmm? Just you and me.” She closed the distance between them with a single step, and traced a cream-coloured hooftip down the centre of his muscular chest.

Ok, his mind corrected itself. Never mind getting a grip. Y'all can start freakin' out now.

“Fluttershy,” Big Mac said evenly, standing his ground. “Pardon me for sayin' so, but you're actin' a little strangely today.”

“I'm in heat,” she replied in a sultry tone, still smiling at him.

A dead weight dropped into his stomach. “Yeah, ah figured.”

“So... don't you want to do something about it?” She inquired, fanning her tail. He sniffed, and he felt his innards twitch in response.

Ho boy. She'd been keeping the scent well under wraps up until now, but now that she lifted her tail slightly, he copped a lungful of her musk.

“Eenope,” he replied, backing off a little bit more and doing his best not to gag on the smell.

The little mare snorted and flipped her pink bangs back in an annoyed huff. It would have been utterly adorable were it not for the fact that she was also frowning, which unnerved him more than words could describe.

“Why not?” she demanded.

Easy, now, inner Mac said. She doesn't know. Jus' put her down gently.

“Well, beggin' your pardon,” he said in his lowest, calmest voice, “But it'd be most ungentlecoltly of me, and ah wouldn't much enjoy takin' advantage of you like that, for more than just one reason.”

Fluttershy didn't even bat an eyelid.

“Oh, I imagine you wouldn't enjoy it,” she said, tilting her head slightly and smiling politely. “But I would.”

For a moment, the two ponies stared at eachother.

The warm breeze stopped blowing. In the tops of the unbucked trees, the apples stopped swaying. The birds on the branches froze, and looked down on the scene in muted shock.

“I'll give you a ten second head-start,” Fluttershy said, calmly.

Big Mac began to run as fast as he could towards the house.

________