The Same Two Friends I Knew

by Sandalwood

Rating: teen
Tags: Slice of Life
Length: 9735

after fifteen years of seperation, the cutie mark crusaders reunite for a day together.

What sort of interactions become a 15 year reunion, when its among an introverted shut-in painter who holes up in her treehouse, a quiet nature loving pegasus-turned-earthpony who keeps covered up, and a fast-talkin crude-humoured manehatten bachelorette with a lust for tea.
The Cutie Mark Crusaders have been separated for fifteen years. It's no surprise that Applebloom jumps at the chance to see her two friends again. But as much as she has changed over the years, her excitement becomes mixed with anxiety and worry. What if they don't like who she is now? Her worries, however, don't last long. Upon seeing her friends again, she discovers that she is not the only one who has changed. Far from it.

(special thanks to kartalthewriter, for his support and assistance as well as for the art)

Published 1970-01-01 00:00:00 UTC
Last updated 2012-12-15 18:30:02 UTC

The Cutastically Fantastics

Rehanging the last painting, I pick back up the dust cloth and walk toward the door. I stop and sit there a moment, looking around the room that was once the crusaders' clubhouse. Once again I admire my work in cleaning the place, which as little as it is, takes an hour of practised work. I glance over to the filly sized red cape hanging on the wall, abit faded but not a tear. Making sure this memory’s never fallen into disrepair has just become a part of my routine. Every weekend after I finish my evening chores, I come out here to clean it up and fix nature’s damages, then I spend the rest of the evening painting. My works cover every inch of each wall, except for where I hang my cape. Ithink the crusaders'll be happy to see this.

I hop down the steps and head into the house. I sit down in the foyer, picking up a folded letter from the endtable and glance at the clock. They’ll be here in bout half an hour. Opening the letter, I review the curly script which abridges Sweetie Belle’s recent experience with running into Scootaloo and her plan to bring her here for a visit in a week’s time. Though I sure wish she hadn’t sent it so early. It’s just been torture, anticipatin’ it fer so long. I guess that’s a little of my fillyhood eagerness carryin’ over.

        As many times as I've read the letter it still makes my heart flutter, admittedly, however, partially from anxiety. They gotta be expectin’ an older version of that adventurous ‘n frolicsome filly that they knew. Not this quiet, shut in painter I’ve become. ‘N there ain't no way they thought I’d be a painter. Thinkin’ back, it was an awful sad endin’ to the Cutie Mark Crusaders to break up before any of us got our cutie marks. It all happened perty quickly when Sweetie ‘n Scootaloo moved away in the same year. But gettin’ my cutie mark was a nice distraction, then after havin’ to worry about school, their memory just became part of the past. That ain't to say I stopped carin’, but you learn to move on. I bet they got great cutie marks, Sweetie’s no doubt’s in singin’ ‘n Scootaloo’s…

*knockknockknockknockknockknockknockknockknockknockknockknockknockknock*

I jump a foot, startled by the sudden drumming on the door. I glance again at the clock.Ten till. That’s probably them. I feel a heat rise in my throat, bracing myself for the unreal situation unfolding.I can't believe this's actually hapennin’.

*knockknockknockknockknockknockknock*

Okay, okay, okay. I open the door and am tackled to the floor by a tall white unicorn. My heart leaps out of my chest at the sight of her, hardly different in appearance other than in size.

        “How goes ya, ol gal of mine?” Sweetie squawks in an unexpectedly thick north Manehattan accent. She licks my face and hops over me, heading out of the room.

        “I'm good?” I say, utterly thrown off by the greeting. Getting back to my feet, I look to the doorway to see Scootaloo just standing there, looking much more different. The formerly hyperactive filly stood very still in waiting, a small colourful dress fluttering in the breeze. “What’re you just standin’ there fer? C'mon in.”

        She enters happily, her grown out mane brushing her legs as she walks. She gives me a soft squeeze around the neck. “I'm so happy to see you. I hope you’ve been wonderful.”

        “I'm happy to see you too. I’m real wonderful,” I say cheerfully, closing the door behind her. “Now let’s uh… catch up to Sweetie.” I wave her to my side and walk toward the kitchen. “Sweetie?”

        Entering the kitchen, we find the unicorn’s hips bouncing from side to side to silent music while her head and hooves busily bury themselves in a cabinet. “Say Bloom, I noticed ya put some water down. I don't suppose it’s for tea now, huh? O wait, yeah I do suppose.” She pops her head from the cabinet awaiting her answer.

        “Uhh… yeah, I was gonna make us some…”

        “Now that’s alright! So where’s it at? What kind ya got? It’s been awhile since I had a good Jasmine, the classics are always nice, ey? Hold on, whattam I thinkin, ya an Apple, Bloom. I bet ya got ya very own special apple tea of some sort, now don't ya?” Her words hit me a mile a minute.

        “Umm, yeah. Actually, I got some sweet apple blossom tea.”

        “That’s whattam talkin about! I knew ya were holdin out on me,” she chirps, finally standing still.

        I notice her flank, adorned by a trio of tea leaves. “O wow, what a cute cutie mark. So I guess you… make tea?”I don't think I ever would've expected that to be her cutie mark.

        “Prefer drinkin it myself, am I right?” she guffaws, patting me on the chest. “So how about that apple bloom tea?”

        “Uhh yeah, why don't y'all go take a seat ‘n I’ll bring out the tea.”

        “Well, I’d say that’s a plan.” She swings her hip into mine and turns to walk out. “Whoa, now! Just hold the phone!” She stops, zooming in on my flank. “Well whatta we have here? Wouldn’t ya know that AB’s a painter? Cause I sure did!”

        “You did?”

        “Babe, it was too obvious,” she clucks, widely sashaying as she leaves the room, the strangely silent Scootaloo trailing behind her.

I think I might've found the wrong mares.

I set the tea tray on the endtable, sharing the adjacent sofa with my two guests. I pass a cup to Scoot, Sweetie snatching one up before I can react.

        Scootaloo takes a whiff of the drink and smiles softly. “Tea can have such a relaxing effect. I always enjoy a good herbal blend.” She sips it, continuing to breathe in its scent.

        Sweetie Belle suddenly puts on a serious face, nearly sticking her nose in her tea, inhaling audibly. She licks its surface tentatively a few times before lowering the cup. “These are some good blossoms, yeah. And the simplicity of the blend’s spot on. None other than Sweet Apple Acres alright. The tree's a young one, I'd say just six years. Cuts the sweet, but adds a crispness.”

        My jaw drops slightly. “That’s amazin’. What else can you tell about it?”

        She flashes a blindingly bright, toothy grin. Opening her mouth, she tosses the still scalding liquid down her throat, bringing the cup down hard on the table. “Damn fine tea!” she announces, splaying herself back.

The foul language was unexpected. “Right.” I turn my attention to Scootaloo as Sweetie pours herself another cup. “So Scoot, ain't heard from you yet. What're you hiddin’ under yer dress there?” I point at her flank. After Sweetie’s turnout, I can only imagine what Scootaloo’s may be. “I bet it’s got somethin’ to do with flyin’.” I look at her back, noticing that her dress lacks wingholes. “Umm, what are you coverin’ up yer wings fer?”

        “I have no place in the sky as a pegasus. I belong on the ground with my earth pony sisters.”

        “Say what now?”

        “Haven’t you ever wondered why I couldn’t learn to fly as a filly?” she answers with a question, her look of sincerity only causing further confusion.

        “Cause you didn’t have Pegasus parents?”

        “And that was all for a reason. I was never meant to fly. I am supposed to be an earth pony.”

I can't believe what I'm hearin’. Pushing passed my infinite questions, I again look at her flank. “So umm… what's yer cutie mark then?”

        “I don't identify with a cutie mark. They are unneeded labels. You know the buffalo have nothing like cutie marks and they flourish in peace.”

        My jaw smacks the floor. “A real numba in't she?” Sweetie whispers, poking me in the side. I roll my eyes. “Ey, why don't ya show her ya honey, honey? She’s the cutest thing”

        Scootaloo digs through her saddle bags, pulling out a photo and showing it with a smile. It depicts a young buffalo. “This is my lovely wife.”

She’s married? To a buffalo? “Wait a sec, that looks just like Strongheart.”

        “O hey, it is her in't it?”

        “O? How do you know my little Strongheart?” She cocks her head to the side.

        “She dated my cousin Braeburn once.”

        “Ofcourse, I forgot about that,” she recalls, tapping her head with her hoof.

“She also dated Rainbow Dash ‘n Applejack ‘n Pinkie Pie. Oh, ‘n Fluttershy.”

“Oh… right. Well I more than understand why they all fell for her, she has such a lively spirit.”

“And a perty nice flank accordin’ to Applejack.”

“Ya know, I rememba Rarity makin a simila claim,” Sweetie butts in.

“Rarity didn’t date Strongheart, did she?” I ask, having no memory of it.

“Nah, she made it clear they weren’t dating. Rarity'd say they had a 'less complicated arrangement',” she whinnies, before tipping back the teapot, emptying the last bit of its contents. I look back at the still full cups resting in front of Scootaloo and myself, thinking of what next to say.

“So, uhh… Sweetie Belle, you a got a mare back home waitin’ fer you?”

“Not a one!”

That seems surprising. 'less… “…A stallion?”

“Nuh-uh.”

“You don't got no special somepony, Sweetie? What fer? Don't tell me they just ain't interested, cause I find that hard to believe.”

“Well, thanky kindly,” she drawls in a poor imitation of my accent, tipping her hat. “But I played the field pretty hard in college. Figured I’d retire while I was still a star.”

Retire? “Retire? You mean yer just gonna give up lookin’ for somepony special when yer so young?” I eagerly inquire, deciding to just forget her statement about 'playing the field'.

“Ya know, I say why have somepony tie me down. There's nothin an ol mare can gimme that I can't handle myself.” She winks. “Unless, that is, ya makin me an offer.” She smirks, throwing a hoof over my shoulder. “Then, how can I refuse?”

You are not Sweetie Belle. Realising my relationship history is next on the list, I grasp for a change in topic. “So girls, it’s Saturday. That means club meetin’,” I evoke the ancient memory, in hopes of a new conversation starter. “Old news?”

“Don't think any of that would be relevant now, do ya?” Sweetie responds, bringing some sense to my suggestion.

“Suppose so… new news?”

“None of us are lookin to find our cutie mark, so just whatta ya got in mind?” she again answers, nipping my idea at the bud. “Unless, that is, we try and find Scoots' cutie mark, heh?” She pokes out her tongue at the Pegasus turned earth pony, eliciting only a frown in return.

“Well, guess we ain't got much reason to be the Cutie Mark Crusaders anymore if'n we ain't crusadin’ fer any cutie marks.”

“But it’s symbolic, we’re always looking for who we really are, life is our crusade,” Scootaloo incites.

“Or we could just change the name,” Sweetie Belle suggests.

I light up at the thought. “Her idea’s better! But to what?”

“My votes for The Cutastically Fantastics,” Sweetie squeaks, mocking her fillyhood voice. Scoot sighs at being shut down.

“Well, I ain't hearin’ any others, so why not. The Cutastically Fantastics it is!” That name sounds vaguely familiar.

“What now?” Scootaloo voices, finally taking another drink of her cooled down tea.

“Whateva it is, its gotta be cutastically fantastic!” Sweetie cheers, hopping to her feet.

“We should spend this day having as much fun as we can together,” Scootaloo rises to her hooves as well.

“Well? What do y'all got in mind?”

Sweetie immediately leaps up, throwing her hoof in the air. “I know! Let's skydive! O, o, let's drink tea while freefalling!”

“We can walk through the park and observe nature’s harmony!” Scootaloo proposes, with an eager smile.

“Let’s climb Mount Everfree! And drink tea at its peak!”

“We can listen to the wind and search for our inner peace!” She wiggles with excitement, stopping as she notices Sweetie Belle and I only staring back. “…while drinking tea?”

“Ok, her idea’s not bad,” Sweetie reasons.

“Girls, hold on. Why not use this chance to visit places round Ponyville. Ain't this reunion bout relivin’ old memories?”

“Well, while ya go and relive the old, and I think I’ll live the new,” Sweetie sasses.

“Yeah. Her idea’s better!” Scootaloo speaks up.

I can't help smile and begin to giggle. “Awright, let's start livin’ then. Since yer ideas sound slightly less crazy, you can pick first.” I point to Scootaloo. “So where're we headin’?”

“I have so wanted to visit the Lotus Spa.”

“Aloe and Lotus’s place ya mean? The place Rarity loves to go so much. They’re bound to have some good teas there, eh?”

“Yes. They’ve become quite well known for having one of the highest quality holistic spas in Equestria. It’s almost impossible to find traditional earth pony spa practice elsewhere, these days.”

“Ain't room to burn daylight,” I call back, having already put on my saddlebags, standing at the door. “So, Cutastically Fantastic…!”

Scootaloo trots to my side, pushing the door open. “Cutastically Fantastic, Spa goers?”

“Wait up,” Sweetie cheeps as her horn begins to glow. Our tea, left on the table, whips up out of the cups and she gulps it down at once. She gallops toward us and leaps out of the door. “YAY!”

A short but nostalgic trot together through Ponyville’s streets brings us to the building, the freshly painted sign reading Aloe and Lotus earth pony holistic spa.

“Change in name, ey? Suppose it sounds a little more commercial than Lotus Spa,” Sweetie notes, pressing her face against the glass doors. I push open the door and she falls on her face. “Bigga business means bigga inventory means more tea. Can't wait to try em out,” she mumbles into the floor.

        “Stop that.” I drag her back to her feet. “By the way, after drinking so much tea, don’tcha gotta pee?” I end the question in a whisper.

        Her eyes grow wide. “I do now!” She zips away, somehow immediately finding the restroom in the unfamiliar layout. Scootaloo and I approach the desk and a violet maned pony quickly shows up behind it.

        “Allo. Welcome to our spa,” she greets sunnily with a light accent. She must be Lotus ‘n Aloe’s sister. I recognise the accent shared among them, I believe from southern coastal Equestria. The clarity of her speech, however, makes apparent that she grew up in Ponyville. “What can we offer you today?”

        I look at Scootaloo with a lost expression. “I ain't sure where to start. Help me out.” She points to a large full menu on the wall and I busy myself scanning through it, entirely fascinated with the odd names on it. “They massage y'all with hot milk?”

        “Would you like the Manegolian Hot Milk Treatment?” the spa pony asks, her accent becoming more endearing to my ears with each word. I look again at Scootaloo, unsure how to respond.

        “You should come with me so we can chat during,” she recommends, turning again to the desk. “I’ll begin with the Honey treatment.” She looks back at me and I give a nod. “And the same for my friend.” She begins to reach for her bits and I wave her down.

        “Let me pay fer y'all,” I offer, looking to the spa pony in silent question of the cost. She taps on the wall, pointing to it on the menu. I swallow loudly as my eyes follow it to the price.

        “That’s too much Apple Bloom, I’ll be fine,” she asserts, placing her bits on the counter. I sigh and go for mine as well.

        “Vera?” Sweetie coos from behind, running to our accompaniment.

        “Sweetie!” the mare calls back, slipping from behind the desk to greet Sweetie with a hug.

        “Nabir, Vera!” She plays on the sisters’ accent. “I see ya followin ya sistas and takin on the spa.”

        “O, I'm doing great, Sweetie. I decided long ago to stay and work with my sisters. It’s been so many years.”

        “Girls, this is Vera. Wheneva Rarity had to watch me, she’d always leave me with Vera while in the spa.”

        Vera slips back behind the desk, taking only a few of the coins Scootaloo had placed there. “As friends of Sweetie’s, I wouldn’t dare charge you full price. I’ll give you all three a discount, how does that sound?”

        “Sounds great to me!” Sweetie beams, hopping over to the menu to carefully examine it, likely for tea.

        “Will you be having the Honey treatment with your friends?”

        “Honey treatment? Now that’s what I call puttin honey to good use, yeah! I just don't get ponies who put it in their tea. It just ruins the flavour, ya know?”

        “Yes. My little Strongheart recommended it.” Scoot's mention of the buffalo’s name seems to cause a blush across Vera’s cheeks and she disappears behind the desk. “She said that her experience with it was an especially enjoyable one.” Scootaloo flips her tail happily at the chance to talk about her significant other. The spa pony returns, pushing three logoed towels onto us.

        “I’d like the tearoom.” Sweetie orders.

        “I thought we would all go to the tearoom, afterward.” Scootaloo clarifies.

        “Your call, boss!” Sweetie salutes. “Guess I’ll take whateva it is Rarity usually does,” she decides without pause.

        At the mention of their star customer’s name, a pink mane atop sparkling eyes pops out from behind the counter.

        “SWEETIE!” Lotus squeals before ducking back under, audibly rustling through her equipment.

        “I always wanted to say this!” Sweetie whispers, teeming with glee. She tips up her nose and lifts her hoof in pose,

reminiscent of her elder sister. “The usual!” she calls out and in a blur of blue, she and Lotus disappear, leaving a swinging door in their stead.

        “Reckon it’s just you ‘n me.” I place a few bits on the counter.

        “This way, please,” Vera purrs, again hopping around the desk and leading us through the adjacent door. A silver coin adorns her tail, ticking back and forth with her strut. My eyes follow its movements, my ears filled with a familiar folk song she hums softly. I can feel myself already relaxing, as though my body were walking on its own.

        “Would you lie here, please?” I'm awakened from my trance by Aloe’s song-like voice, much more thickly accented than the younger sister. The pink spa pony stands at a nearby table, directing Scootaloo to lie down. I look to see Vera by the table nearest, just smiling back at me.

        “O! Sorry, I spaced out fer a while there,” I apologize, rubbing my head.

        “It’s a talent of mine.” She wags her rear, bringing attention to the pink lotus cutie mark decorating her flank. “All part of the experience.” She places a hoof on my shoulder and guides me to the massage table.

I glance over at Scootaloo to see her slip out of her dress. She tosses a towel over her tail, but not before I catch a glimpse of her flank. I clearly make out the image of a rainbow’s tail touching down on a piece of earth. Much as I’d love to ask bout it, if she don’t feel comfortable talkin' bout it, I won’t. My curiosity is satiated for now. She climbs onto the table and her wings fall to her sides. While she may reject flight, by no means does she look without the ability like that tiny winged filly I remember. Her wings are fully grown in just as I had always pictured them. Aloe reaches toward the limp wing, which flicks her hoof away, confirming its function.

I pull my eyes away and finally climb onto the table myself, calling to action the mare who had been waiting with the patience of a service pony. She begins to walk around me, lightly rubbing my muscles for areas of tension. Aloe trots to the side of the room and lights a couple sticks of incense, before returning and massaging Scootaloo abit. I find my relaxation coming very quickly, my body becoming slack. I look over to notice Scoot nolonger minding that Aloe is massaging her wing.

The incense hits me and I can smell definite cinnamon. At this, the two retrieve a small basket from behind us, quickly returning to their positions. After a moment of silence I can feel them begin to apply the honey, which has been warmed. I ain't never been covered in warm honey before. It feels nice. The scent of the honey reaches my nose, mixing with the cinnamon to create a new and wonderfully warm aroma.

“Gotta hand it to you,” I call over, hoping to strike up conversation in the silence. “I never thought much fer spas before this.”

“It’s wonderful isn’t it?” she calls back with a relaxed voice.

“O, it’s amazin’, just amazin’,” I answer, eliciting a soft shh from the masseur. I open my eyes and look over at Scootaloo as lotus rubs the honey into her back. Small white beads begin to form along her fur from the honey, drawing me to continue watching.

“So… how much did you see?” Scootaloo suddenly asks, though I immediately know what she is referring to. I pause a moment unsure how to respond.

“What're you talkin' bout? I didn't see nothin'.”

“You're a terrible liar.”

“It was just a glance, I didn’t even see what yer cutie mark was.” Vera puts her hoof to my mouth, gesturing again for me to be quite. “And why do y'all keep hushin’ me?”

“Don't talk, just relax.” Vera smiles softly, her eyes closed as she works.

“But y'all ain't quietin’ her, when she talks.” I look back to Scoot.

“That is because she is already very relaxed,” Aloe speaks up.

I slump my head down and relax back into the massage.

Scootaloo begins again. “It’s alright, I don’t mind you seeing it. It’s not really a big secret.”

I pick my head back up, abit confused by what she said. “What do you mean? So why do you hide it?” My question is met by a lime wedge shoved into my mouth by Vera, accompanied with another soft shh. I wince at the sour taste for a moment as she returns to the honey treatment.

“It won’t stay sour,” she assures.

Just as she says, the sweet of the honey and the spice of the cinnamon cut the bite of the lime. They create another nice mixture, filling my senses with warmth. I lay back down and her hooves move toward my shoulders.

Scootaloo giggles lightly. “Well, after I moved to Fillydelphia I imagine you and Sweetie got your cutie marks fairly soon like most. For me it was much longer.”

My eyes stay closed as I listen to her story, answering with quiet hums of acknowledgement.

“All of my time was consumed with learning to fly, not even thinking that my talent might be in something else. Eventually I gave up on finding it.”

The spa ponies signalled for us to turn and lie on our backs. I had stopped noticing the massage, being distracted by Scootaloo's story, though it’s certainly no less effective. I ain't ever felt this relaxed before, I don't think.

“While some fillies would mock my unusual lack of a cutie mark, there were a few mares that praised me for it. I began spending more time with them and learned that they were miserable because of their cutie marks. They said that they were pushed into their careers because of them. They’d had other passions, but were always told that they were given a talent for a reason.”

I open my eyes to Vera’s breath on my face as she removes the lime from my mouth. “I hope you two enjoyed yourselves. Would you like to continue with another service of ours?”

“I was thinking of next having your cupping massage. What do you think Apple Bloom?”

“O yeah, that’d be great.” I easily agree. “But how do we get this honey out of our fur now?”

Vera stepped toward the door, Aloe following with towels. “You will take a salt bath. It will pull the honey right off your fur,” Aloe explains, as we follow her to the bath.

“Y'know, this’s the first time I been covered in honey ‘n come out feelin’ cleaner fer it,” I laugh, easing myself into the warm water. Scootaloo ditches her towel before quickly slipping in as well.

“Please tell us if you need anything?” Aloe leaves the room, while Vera takes a seat near the bath.

I stare at Scootaloo a moment, waiting for her to resume her story. “So…?”

“So,” Scootaloo smiles warmly. “I joined this group of mares who are against cutie mark identification and would deny following their own. And I really think it’s great.”

I sit still in the bath, giving all my attention to her story. The salt bath tingles across my skin and you can begin to see the honey residue rising to its surface. “'N that’s why you hide yer cutie mark?”

“Well, I met this earth pony who introduced me to herbalism. I really fell in love with it and wouldn’t you know I finally gained a cutie mark. I was really happy at first. But then I thought about my group. I felt a little ashamed to go there with a cutie mark for what I loved. I thought I’d be going against what we stood for. So I hid it.”

“So then, yer afraid they’ll think differently bout you?” I ask, with complete understanding.

“Yeah, I guess so,” she answers with a soft smile.

We are interrupted by Aloe entering the room. “I hope you have enjoyed yourself. If you see me in the lobby, you can order your next treatment,” she announces brightly, before again leaving. We promptly exit the bath and dry off with the assistance of Vera before making our way to the lobby.

We reach the desk and I venture another question, still abit curious. “So, why is it then you call yerself an earth pony?”

She reaches into her bag for her bits to pay for her next session. “Well…”

Sweetie Belle suddenly appears through the door, her hooves scuffing the floor as she's pushed from behind by Lotus. Lotus unfurrows her brow with a hmph, flipping around and walking back through the door. “Ya don't gotta be so upset about it,” Sweetie mumbles.

I arc an eyebrow. “Uh, how’d things go fer you?”

“Eh, it coulda ended happier,” she shrugs

“Somethin’ wrong? I thought yers would last longer.”

“Nah, just a special wasn’t available. I'm callin it quits early.” She continues walking toward the exit. “Lotus told me about this great teahouse I just gotta check out.”

Scootaloo pouts as she follows Sweetie. I turn back to the desk where Vera just waves.

“Well, where're we goin’?” I ask, following Sweetie to an unknown destination.

“It’s a teahouse down the street called…” she answers before disappearing through a door.

…I guess this is it. I enter into a small room lined with boxes, each covered in foreign sounding names. “Is this the place, Sweetie?”

“Yeah, can I getta cup of somethin good? Just surprise me. Thanks,” she chirps to the stallion at the counter, hoofing over a few bits. “Nah, this in’t it. Just thought I’d stop and sample the wares.”

“But ain't we goin’ to a teashop already?”

“Ya got me.” She grins, taking her drink and hopping out the door. I sigh, once again following her. After a moment she takes a sip of her drink, suddenly spitting it out. “What's this? It's just leaf juice! And he calls this tea?”

“Ain't that basically what tea is?”

She gives me a glare as if to say 'you would', but quickly replaces it with a smile and returns attention to her trek. She prances along, seeming to not be going anywhere in particular really. In fact, I'm pretty sure her eyes are closed.

“I thought you said this place was just down the oof-” I run into her, not noticing her sudden stop.

“We’re heeere,” she sings, tossing her cup into a waste bin and rushing inside.

Scoot and I enter to some soft playing jazz. Passed the shop’s counter is a small dining area, decorated with ornate tea sets along the walls and spotted with few customers. Sweetie is already busying the service mare with her order. “Yeah, I’d like some of everything ya got.”

“Uh… alright, why don't you take a seat and we’ll work with you from there,” the mare giggles. A second mare comes out and I quickly recognise her.

“Hey there Dinky!”

“Hey, long time no see Apple Bloom… o wow, really long time no see, Scootaloo. It’s been years, how've you been?”

“I've been lovely. And you look just as I remember, Well, if not abit rounder,” Scoot points.

“Yeah, when you've eaten as many muffins as I have, you don't exactly stay looking like my mom without a pegasus metabolism. Too bad, I don't think Mom ever figured that out,” she chuckles, patting her belly. “You know, I'm not even sure if Mom knows I’m not a pegasus.”

“At least she never tried teaching you to fly,” Scootaloo jokes.

“Well actually...”

The other mare wanders back from where Sweetie had seated, her brow broken asweat and carrying a scribble-ridden notepad. “Thank you for your patience, I'll take your order in just a moment.” She says with a smile, though sounding abit stressed.

“It's alright Fig, I'll handle them. They're friends.”

Fig lets an audible sigh of relief before disappearing into another room.

Dinky smiles and looks back to us, dipping her head. “That's Fig Branch. I caught her back in college. What do you think?” She winks.

I lean in as if spreading some juicy gossip. “Well, you got yerself a looker. 'N from what I hear, she's got a hoof fer tea. So I'd say you won out.”

Dinky laughs and wipes a faux tear from her eye. “Alright, so what are you going to order?”

Scootaloo steps up with a smile. “I'll have a ginger milk tea, please.”

Dinky turns toward me.

“I don't care much, just give me what she's havin'.” I drop my bits on the counter, then look at the menu. “O yeah, 'n I can't come through here without gettin' one of yer muffins. Hmm… just give me what's good.” I reach back to get more bits and she holds out a hoof.

“Hey, it'll be on the house. I'll bring something good back for each of you girls. Just go on back to your seat and I'll be there in a minute.”

Fig very slowly staggers back out, with her hooves over filled with jars. “Ey Dink. A little help here?” she calls softly, as Dinky quickly lifts most of the load with her horn, gently lying them about the floor. Much clanking of jars can be heard as Fig goes to work, skilfully preparing the teas.

Dinky prances over to give Scootaloo and me our drinks. She sets down a tray with three berry muffins. “Hey Sweetie! We'll have your tea ready for you as quickly as we can.”

“Not if my bits got anything to say about it, sweetcheeks,” Sweetie snaps back, bouncing a coin against the table which hops right into Dinky's hoof.

“Umm… okay.” Dinky looks abit confused and returns to her partner behind the counter.

I waste no time in taking a bite of the muffin as Scootaloo instead reaches for her drink.

Sweetie Belle holds the muffin up to her wide open mouth before stopping and pointing at it. “Whoa there Belle, are ya outside ya mind? Ya can't eat this muffin just before you try some seriously fine tea. Ya wanna throw it off?” Sweetie finishes lecturing herself and gently places the muffin into her bag.

In the next minute Fig was on her way, hurriedly carrying Sweetie’s cup to the table.

“Walk slower!” Sweetie yells, Fig seeming almost to slip at the startle and switching over to a much slower stride.

As she reaches us, Sweetie swipes her drink before it even touches the table. She brings it in close to her nose, sounding a childlike ooh.

Fig clears her throat to speak. “This one is your-”

“Kombucha Green, and a good one. Ya just neva see this portioned right, ya know? Kudos.”

“…But you haven't even taken a drink yet,” the waiting pony questions.

Sweetie flashes her toothy grin and tosses back the drink in one swig, levitating the cup back to her. “Keep em comin!” Fig waddles back with a look of being lost.

“So, Sweetie. Why don’tcha tell us the story of how you got yer cutie mark?” I enquire with utter curiosity.

“Ya got ya self a story, sweetheart,” she easily complies.

Ain’t Sweetheart a filly we went to school with? I’m not even gonna ask.

“Well ya see, it all started with my good ol sis Rarity. Wheneva she'd get some tea from the spa, she'd say I couldn't have any. Said I just wouldn't like it. So one day I got ahold a some to try. One drink and bam! Just like that, I got my cutie mark and fell in love with tea.”

“…That's it? Hmm, that was short.” But perfectly timed as Fig is already back, and Sweetie's focus is gone, eyes on her new drink. Fig sets two cups in front of her.

“There's another Kombucha for you. And this is a-”

“A herbal blend. Hmm, sweet chilli, nice. Talk about contrast.” She licks the surface a couple times. “Ya really gotta knack for this, Figs. I've neva tasted chilli and cocoa combined so well.” She tips back her cup, returning it emptied.

Fig's elation at the compliment is apparent in her expression. Seeming to enjoy the banter with somepony who knows the talk, she contentedly returns to get the next drink.

“So then, Sweetie. Just what've you been up to all this time?” I ask, at a complete loss to what she could possibly spend her time doing. “I mean. How've you spent yer time these years?”

“Just a little of everything and not much of anything. Nothin to tell really.”

“Umm… what do you mean nothin'? I’m sure after fifteen years, you ain’t just got nothin' to tell. What about the Manehatten branch crusaders? There's got to be story of somethin’.”

“Well, I got my cutie mark the week I moved there, so there wasn't a point to crusading. I did nothin but school for ten of those years. Dropped outta college after a couple years and couch surfed for a while. Last year I borrowed some cash and opened up a little shop, and that's where I am now.”

“You got a shop? Gee, I bet I can guess what kind it is.”

“It's a coffeeshop.”

“Wait, really? It's not a teashop?”

“Nope. Just a coffeeshop. But we totally should get some tea.”

“You don't even sell tea there?”

“I wish.”

“But I thought you said you own it.”

“I do,” she answers, tilting her head to the side.

“Nevermind.”

Fig reappears with another cup and sets it in front of Sweetie. “Here you go, this one is a…” She pauses preemptively, expecting Sweetie to cut in and finish naming the tea. After a moment, Sweetie says nothing. “It's another-”

“Anotha herbal mix I see. This one's peach. Love peach. Whatta wonderful warmth ya give it.” She takes a sip of it. “O my, and how smooth. That is some seriously smooth peach tea. Not to mention that rolling flavour. If I had thumbs, Fig, they'd be way up.”

Fig stares on, utterly confused by the remark, searching our faces for an answer.

“It's something griffons do,” Scootaloo informs.

She accepts the answer and takes Sweetie's cup after she once again gulps it down, paying no mind to our reactions. I finish the last of mine as well, and the mare slinks away with our dishes.

“Ya know, now that I think about it,” Sweetie Belle looks over to me. “coffee is kinda tea. I mean, it’s like coffee bean tea.”

That caught me abit off guard. “…Uh, yeah, you got a point, I guess.”

“Soon as I get home, I’m changin all the names to say coffee-tea. This is great, I finally got tea at the shop!”

“Go fer it,” I giggle, stumbling to follow her line of reasoning.

Fig is quickly back, carrying just one cup and a large smile. “Here you are, I really think you'll like this one.”

“I'd be more surprised if I didn't!” Sweetie counters with a stare of anticipation. Swiping the cup toward her muzzle she takes a whiff and her eyes spring wide open. “Whoa!” She excitedly shoves her nose back into the cup taking as deep a breath as her lungs can hold, then setting it down again with tea dripping from her snout. She suddenly gets a contemplative, and somewhat unsure, look. “This is just. It's just! It's chai if I've eva known it. It's white. It's uhh… well it's from northern Islandic Equestria. Ah. This tea.”

“Well, you're half right,” Fig replies smirking.

“Half right? Ya tryin to tell me this in't chai?”

“No, that's not it.”

“Is it from southern Islandic Equestria?”

“No, you got that part right to.”

“Don't tell me it's not white, I know that's white tea.”

“It's a chai blend. It's white and-”

Sweetie's eyes shoot wide again. “Wait, don't tell me!” she cuts her off, quickly bringing the cup back to her nose and closing her eyes as if to enter a trance.

“It's white and Maté.”

“MATÉ!” Sweetie practically screams, pointing an accusatory hoof at the mare. “I was about to say that!”

“O, sorry, you're right. It seems you know this tea quite well,” she concludes in feigned defeat before turning around to leave.

Sweetie drops her shoulders with a sigh. “…Umm. Could ya tell me what blend this is?”

Fig promptly turns back around, with a victorious grin. “It's a house special I personally mix right here. You were right that both teas I put into it are northern Islandic. I blend Samurai Chai Maté and White Ayurvedic Chai then steep it with rock sugar.”

“Now that's what ya call some genius tea blending. Those two are so complimentary, it makes too much sense they'd go togetha!”

Fig giggles, seeming truly pleased. “I need to go serve this other customer, just ask if you need anything else.”

Sweetie begins mumbling, staring at the cup. I can't quite hear her but it's something about the beauty and genius in the tea she is currently gazing into. “Uh, Sweetie? How bout you taste it?”

Sweetie Belle lifts it carefully, placing a hoof underneath and slowly bringing it to her lips, as though she were to drink it normally. As she tips it up, she flips it upside down and lets the liquid fall down her throat and smacks the cup down against the table. “O Celestia! That tea hits the spot alright,” she says a little too loud. She takes only a second to collect herself before her hoof flails into the air. “Waitress! Anotha cup!”

She slides across the floor to quickly fill a cup and comes over to our table. “Waitress? What happened to my name?”

“Couldn't care a fig about it,” Sweetie retorts, snatching the cup from her tray as soon as she is in reach. She pulls it up to take in a long deep breath of its scent before tossing it back with a rather inappropriate moan. She again wildly waves her hoof for Fig's attention, who's now resorted to carrying the pot with her to refill Sweetie's cup.

“Just hold your hat, I'll refill it,” the service mare calls over, thinly covering annoyance. Upon nearing the table, Sweetie grabs hold of the pot, leaving a few extra bits floating in its stead. Fig pauses a moment, shrugging and trotting off content with the outcome.

Sweetie holds the warm pot tightly against her chest and takes another deep inhalation of its fresh aroma, letting slip small squeals of delight. Her breath heavy, she pours herself another cup. She then pushes that cup aside and proceeds to down the pot, letting not a drop spill over her lips. As it empties of its last bit of tea she lets it fall to the table, thrusting back her chair to stand. “Damn, this is some fine tea.” She sighs, her breath shuddering.

At this point, any eye that hadn't previously been on us was now so. She levitates the remaining cup of tea to her side and walks away from the table.

“Where you goin'?”

“The restroom.”

“With yer tea?”

“Don't judge me!” she calls back, increasing to a gallop.

After several minutes, Sweetie returns to us with an empty cup and a skip in her step.

“How you feelin', Sweetie?”

“I feel fantastic! I don't think I ever felt as good as how I do right now, except for maybe when I think a how I felt that day when I felt the way that I do right now!” Sweetie rambles at her usual speed.

“…That's good. So uh, you feel like callin' it in?” I say, motioning toward our table that had been cleared of Scootaloo's and my dishes.

She stares a moment at her empty cup before nodding. “Sure, it's gettin late. Go ahead while I take care of my bill.”

“O, would you like my help?” Scoot offers, lifting open her bag for her bits.

Sweetie waves her down. “No no. I got it covered.”

Reassured, we head outside, Sweetie following just a few minutes later. We begin to make our way down the street without our destination in mind. So I ask. “Where to next?”

“Well, since Sweetie and myself have already taken us to a place of our own choosing, I'd say it's your turn to choose 'where to next'.”

I thought for just a moment, realising I didn't have the bits left to match up to their outings. As quick, it's out of my mind. I know exactly where I’m takin' them. I continue along without a word, walking ahead to say I have a place in mind.

A sound of rustling draws my attention to Sweetie and I notice something poking out of her bag. “Hey Sweetie, whatcha got there?”

With a smile she levitates out a jar. “It's that tea blend I just had. O, I almost forgot about my muffin.” She floats the muffin out of her bag and she pops it into her mouth at once.

“O really? They sold it to you?”

“I thought you said it was on the house?” she answers through the mouth full.

Sigh. “Not the muffin, the tea.” I clarify flatly.

She quickly finishes chewing the treat. “They were paid well for it,” she concludes with a nod.

“Say, ain’tcha short on bits? Why do you keep throwin' them round like you have been.”

“O, ya know how the saying goes. 'I may not have a dime, but I got street savoir faire'.”

“No… I ain’t heard that one before.”

 …

“Ey Dink, have you seen my tea?”

“You mean your chai blend?”

“Yeah, you know the one. Its not in its cubby.”

“Did you move it?”

“No… hey there's a bag setting here in its place.”

“Really? What's in the bag?”

“…Celestia's beard! Where did all these bits come from?!”

…

…

…

I lead them back to the farm, our final destination for the nostalgic evening. We enter the foyer where Fluttershy is sprawled out on the lounge, staring at nothing in particular.

“Heya Flutters!” Sweetie bounces forward, quick to greet.

Fluttershy turns her head casually, seeming to take a moment to register the situation. “O… hey girls…” she returns the greeting, placing a hoof on the floor to meet us. She smiles with her usual softness, though acting abit out of it. Her eyes widen as she realises who the two with me are, only eliciting a giggle from her.

“Hey there Fluttershy. You can let my sis know I’m here,” I brief, promptly heading into the other room.

“What's that?” Sweetie hops away, lead by the thick chocolatey scent wafting from the kitchen.

She halts at its entrance as Applejack pops out with a wry smile and a “Howdy.”

“Whatta ya makin in there Jack? Smells pretty yum!”

“Just uh, makin' some brownies. Tryin' out a new recipe. Just havin' Fluttershy do some taste testin'.” Her eyes dart back and forth, avoiding our gaze. “I uh, thought you girls would be out today?”

“We have been. But the day’s gettin' on, figured we'd spend the rest of it back here,” I deadpan, used to dealing with my sister's… quirks.

“O… that's great. You girls are probably headin' back to yer clubhouse right now, ain’tcha?” she suggests as though it were the most natural thing. Even though it's true in this case.

“As a matter of fact, we were,” I respond, though she is already pushing us toward the door. I don't fight it, and lead the way to our fillyhood clubhouse. I hear soft ooh's and aah's emit from the two as we enter. Scootaloo stares happily around the room at my paintings, Sweetie excitedly racing around the room, stopping at my cape and beaming back at me. She leaps across the room, embracing me in a tight hug.

“Neva thought I'd see one of those again. I rememba when I did those, yeah. I always thought my mark would be in sewing those days. Had a real knack for it, ya know? Ya rememba the talent show costumes don't ya? Mare, I was good.”

Scootaloo trots over and hugs me as well. “Are all of these paintings yours?” she asks the obvious question.

“Every one of them. 'N these're just a few, really,” I admit proudly about my works.

“A few? You must do a lot of painting.”

“Well, I mean, it is my cutie mark after all.”

“O, right. Wow. So this is what you're doing these days?”

“Actually, these days I'm still workin' on the farm, runnin' the family business with my bro 'n sis. This passion of mine is fer downtime,” I explain, pointing at the hanging paintings. “Though, I always find time to paint.”

“Your talent is apparent. It certainly doesn't just look like it's a hobby.”

“Well, what about you?” I turn it around, wondering as much about her as I'm sure she is me. “What've you been doin' Scoot?”

She blushes softly, looking away as if in thought. “Ah, what the hay. I guess I don't really need to cover up in here.” She shimmies her dress up abit to expose her cutie mark. Sweetie lets out a hoot as if she'd just been surprised with a gift. “I already told you that my talent is in herbalism. That's what I do. Strongheart and I run a holistic clinic, where we care for ponies as well as sell the herbs.”

“So ya'll both own yer own place, huh?” I ask rhetorically, looking between the two of my friends.

“Yeah yeah, it's all very exciting. But what I wanna know's how ya found painting was ya calling,” Sweetie Belle inquires, sitting next to Scootaloo. “Lay it on me, Frau.”

I smile at the memory. “It's kinda funny, really.” The two lean in, like children waiting to hear an adventure. “I dunno if I would've gotten it if'n it weren't fer Twilight.” I give another chuckle, remembering the scene. “One day, she walked up to me and shoved some art supplies toward me and just said 'make something.' When I asked what she meant she just gave me a kind of scowl and said, 'do it filly.' I was really confused and wasn't sure what to make of it, but I’m not one to disappoint so I tried it.”

“Then ya got ya cutie mark? Just like that? Come on, AB, ya borin me,” Sweetie huffs.

I arc my eyebrow at her, recalling her own story. “Actually no, I didn't get it. At first nothin' happened. I tried paintin' but could never come up with anythin'. I kinda gave it up fer a little while, didn't think anythin' of it.”

“Yeah, I know what that's like,” Scootaloo says with a grin. “So what brought you back to it?”

“Y'know what, I wouldn't've gotten my cutie mark if'n it weren't fer Cheerilee either. It started when she got sick and couldn't teach for a few days. A bunch of the class was makin' get well soon crafts fer her. I just figured I'd sign a card, but somethin' sparked in me. I didn't even think about it. I just picked up the brush and colours that Twi gave me and started makin' somethin'. I wasn't sure what I was paintin' till it was done. But when I showed it to Cheerilee, she was so happy to see it. She was in class the next day. That's when I got it, ‘n I been paintin' that way since. I never know what it's gonna be till it's done.” My eyes cross the room, looking at every piece. Each one brings up a clear memory of its making.

“That's a beautiful story,” Scootaloo coos.

“Guess ya didn't have such a borin story afta all,” Sweetie dismisses.

“Look who's talkin' Sweetie. Yer story wasn't exactly full of excitin' details.”

“What can I say. Mark, school, couches, shop. That's pretty much the whole story for me. Unless, that is, ya wanna hear my couch surfin adventures.”

“Uh… what do you mean by adventures?”

“Let's just say there are no free rides in couch surfin. Lucky for me, most of Manehatten in't legal tender exclusive.” She winks.

“Okay… how bout Bab's, wasn't she there?” I can't imagine that my cousin didn't play some part in this.

“Ya got it right Bloom, she was the first one I crashed with. But she dropped me for crashin on anotha mare's couch. Something about me not willin to be the one couch mare she was lookin for. I dunno, I could be paraphrasing.”

Why did I even bother askin'. We share in a laugh, though, if she was making a joke, I don't get it.

I shift on my hooves abit, as a heavier thought falls on my mind. “So I was thinkin', now that we're in contact again… I mean, we are still best friends right?”

The two give me quizzical looks.

“Ofcourse we are! How could we not be?” Sweetie quickly replied.

“I mean, we've just changed so much, I dunno.”

“Ya haven’t changed all that much. Ya still the filly that loves to have fun! We're totally alike!”

“We are. We have our own way of doing things, but we all love having fun. We all love what we do.”

“We all love tea!”

I can't help smiling my widest at their reactions. It seems like only now am I seeing the same two friends I knew as a filly. “Right! So now we're together again, what if the three of us got together more often. We can work together to discover new ways to have fun and do what we love… and drink tea.”

“I'm likin this idea,” Sweetie wastes no time to support.

“But commuting isn't exactly an easy thing to do. We live fairly far away,” Scootaloo points out.

“Yeah.” Sweetie quickly reconsiders. “This trip takes a bite outta ya bits. I don't think regula visits are gonna be possible, not with the size of my purse.”

I pause a moment to rethink. “Then how bout this. Today next year we get together and do the same. I waited fifteen years fer today, I can handle just one fer the chance of another today.”

The two smiled at the idea.

“It's perfect!”

“We're gonna be unstoppable!”

“This is gonna be so great!” I cheer, as we all high hoof.

Scootaloo walks toward the door. “What do you say we celebrate with some of those delicious brownies?”

“NOT the brownies. Trust me,” I warn, knowing my sis' habits.

“Let's see if there's any tea!” Sweetie suggests the obvious.

We all trot out the door back toward the house. “Yeah. C'mon.”

Epilogue

We walk back toward the clubhouse as the sun falls to the horizon.

“I'm just sayin, I wanna be the new leader of the group,” Sweetie proclaims, determination in her voice.

“We ain't never had no leader before. Why would we need one now?” I rebut.

“Whatta ya mean, we never had a leader? Scoots was the leader,” she points out the seemingly obvious fact.

“How was Scootaloo the leader? I was obviously the leader!” I’m quick to argue, unsure of what to make of her statement.

“I thought you just said that we never had a leader,” Scootaloo catches the flaw in my defence.

“Well, yeah. We didn't, but I was about the closest thing.”

“Nah, it was Scoots. That's why I put ya on the cape.”

“But I… wait what?” I glance over at my old cape, noticing only now the shape of the pony on it was clearly me. “Huh. Ain’t noticed that before.”

“Well I wanted to do somethin special for ya. With Scoots bein leader and me bein secretary, I didn't want ya to feel left out,” Sweetie explains.

Okay, that last statement really threw me off. “Hold on now. You were the secretary? Since when did we have a secretary?”

“The same time Scoots became the leader. It was put to a vote, ya know? I mean, she already ran Dash's fan club, she clearly had the best credentials,” Sweetie continues, presenting me with all this new information.

“…There was a vote?” I monotone, not entirely believing what is being said.

“Yeah. Guess ya missed that one.”

“Y'know what? Just drop it.”

“So I'm the new leader?”

“No. As the one who hosts the club in Ponyville, I’m the clear choice. Now, just drop it.”

We all stare at eachother and start laughing loudly. It's been a long day and I'm startin' to feel the effects adventure has on you again. “Hey girls, it's gettin' late. Let's hit the hay.” I lie on the floor of the clubhouse, where I have often made my bed.

“Sleep can wait for the train back,” Sweetie shrugs, still full of energy. “Long as I have time in Pville, I'm gonna spend it. Think I'll check out the club scene.”

“That sounds like a wonderful idea,” Scootaloo agrees.

“Ya comin clubbin with me?”

“No. But I wouldn't mind lengthening the day what I can. I don't mind sleeping through the trip home.”

“Well gee. Sorry girls but I can't join you. I still got chores in the mornin'. I got to get me some sleep, if'n I don't want the work to kill me.”

“That's alright Apple Bloom, we don't want to interfere with your work. You go ahead and Get some sleep and we'll be back a little later to join you,” Scootaloo assures as the two walk out the door.

I watch them through the doorway until they disappear, the very last sliver of the sun finally falling out of sight. A bright smile spreads across my face as something sparks my attention. I feel a leap of my heart and I glance at the ever present easel in the corner with its fresh canvas. “Really? Right now? Y'know I need sleep,” I speak aloud to it, giggling. “Well, there's really no fighting you. But I'm sure gonna regret this in the mornin'.”

…

…

…

 “I see ya still up. So much for gettin sleep, eh babe?” Sweetie's voice comes tired through the door, her horn faintly lighting the way.

“Hmm? Sweetie, I really thought you'd be out longer than this,” I wonder aloud, lying on the floor with the cape over me, staring out the door at the now black night.

“Yeah, Nopony was up for dancing, so I came on back. Figured I'd start catchin some Z's, since I clearly wouldn't be catchin any X's or Y's tonight.”

“Why are you carryin' Scoot?” I ask, noticing the orange pony draped over her back.

“She fell asleep by one of ya trees. Found her on my way back. Didn't wanna just leave her out there.”

“Just lie her on the floor here.” I slip off the cape and lay it over Scootaloo, but she awakes as we let her down.

“O? Did I fall asleep? Is it morning?” she rubs her eyes, slowly looking around the room.

“No. It's still night, you should just go back to sleep.” I say softly, petting her mane.

“Night?” she questions, registering the darkness. “Why are you still awake, Apple Bloom?”

“Yeah, whatta ya doin awake, Bloom?” Sweetie echoes the question.

I walk over to the corner, tapping a hoof on the easel. Sweetie sheds some light on it, revealing my most recently created piece, depicting the three of us.

Scootaloo lifts her head, her eyes widening at the sight. “O wow, Apple Bloom. I love it!” she peeps, her voice light.

        “I think I get ya talent, now.” Sweetie compliments, a smile bright on her face. Lying down on the floor beside me, we stare at it a moment longer before she cuts the light.

        I'm unable to let down my grin as I take in the silence of the days conclusion. I lean over and plant a kiss on each of my friends' cheek. “See you in the morning girls,” I whisper, as sleep swiftly overcomes me.

The painting now hangs in place of my cape, which I sent home with Sweetie Belle. As the sun rose the next morning, as would become the cycle for many mornings to come, the very first thing the light touches as it peers through the tree house's window is that painting. And every morning, it's the first thing I see as I wake up, serving as a pleasant reminder of what each day of the year is leading up to.