Pinkie Pie bursts into the Cakes' storage room, her eyes narrowed and her mouth set into a tight line. Furrowing her brow, she looks down at her left forehoof, the tingle confirming her suspicions. "Warm." She strides up to the first bank of shelves lining the wall, but the tingle fades. "No, cold." At the second rack, the itch in her frog picks back up with a vengeance. "No, warm!" She squats, peering at the bottom shelf. "No, colder again." The one up from that makes her hoof itch a little more, and the one above further still. "Warmer! Yes, warmer!"

By the time she's at eye level, Pinkie's left forehoof feels like it's sweating, and she hops desperately, trying to peer at the shelf above that. "Yes! Warm warm warm hot!" She dashes out of the room, then charges back inside, past the shelves towards the bags of flour and sugar on the far wall. Her hooves hit the lowest sacks, and then she leaps, springing from the top of one stack to the next, until she's running back along the tops of the shelves. "Red hot!"

As Pinkie Pie jumps on top of the shelving unit that first caught her hoof's attention, she hisses. "Ow! Red hot!" She waves her left forehoof theatrically and blows on it, then spins and kicks up dust with her tail, sending something small and glittery flying. "Ah-hah!" She leaps from the top of the storage rack and lands in front of a small glass bottle. She picks it up, then twists off its cap and sniffs at the contents. One exaggerated sneeze later, she holds up her prize triumphantly. "Found it!"

Carrot Cake watches the young mare trot back into the kitchen of Sugarcube Corner and chuckles. "How'd the nutmeg get up there, anyway?"

Pinkie grins and flips the bottle onto the counter. "Oh, I bet Pound picked it up when we were playing hide-and-seek and dropped it. Or maybe Gummy carried it off and hid it! Or maybe Gummy tried to hide it and then Pound carried Gummy off and Gummy dropped it! Gummy likes nutmeg. Who--"

Pinkie yelps as pain jolts across her right knee, a throb hard enough to make the leg kick. She mutters ouches and owies as she hobbles in a tight circle, trying to walk off the spasm. "Pinchy knee! Pinchy--" She freezes and her eyes go wide. "Oh no."

Carrot rears back, his eyes going wide; Pinkie standing still is always a little unnerving. "Pinkie? What's--"

Giant blue eyes dominate Mr. Cake's field of vision as Pinkie suddenly presses her nose to his. "I gotta take the rest of the day off something really super-fantastically scary is going to happen to somepony and only I can stop it I gotta go thanks Mr. Cake bye!" Then, just as quickly, cotton-candy pink tail sweeps in front of his face, followed by heavy hoofbeats as Pinkie dashes up the stairs.

Pinkie Pie's room looks like a freshly-shaken ant farm. A tangled knot of pink and yellow blankets hovers at the edge of her bed, poised to tumble into Gummy's wading pool at any second. Toys indiscriminately cover the floor like so many interrupted stories. Comic books in and out of bag sit scattered around her room, along with building blocks and the occasional cooking utensil. The closest the room comes to order is the neat row of records in the shelves below her player, but even those defy any attempt at pattern.

Faded pink canvas saddlebags decorated with balloons lay at the foot of her bed, the left one drooling hard candies from its open flap. She scoops the loose ends back into their pouch, along with several other toys, then tugs the buckle closed with her teeth. She slips her head beneath her bags, then gives a deft toss of her neck and spins, the strap between them falling across her back. She tugs the buckles around her tummy, then darts back out of the door. "Be good Gummy listen to Pound and Pumpkin but stay out of the nutmeg!"

Carrot Cake raises a hoof as his assistant breezes past him. "Pinkie, don't forget about--"

"I know Mr. Cake foalsitting tonight I'll be back just gotta go save the world be home soon bye!" The words blow out of Pinkie in a rush as she charges out the door. The sunlight hits her face alongside the warm spring air and she pauses long enough to take a deep breath, letting the scents of baked sugar inside mix with grasses and dried hay. She turns and waves, then hooks one hindhoof and swings the door shut before turning back to the road.

"First up, Apple Acres!" Pinkie proclaims as she canters through town. It's a fast trip, comparatively; she only has to stop four times, and two of those were practically the same thing; poking her head into Bon-Bon's shop to share a laugh and ease some ruffled manes between the confectioner and her marefriend put her in the right place at the right time to save Twist's lemon-ginger sticks from becoming tongue-burners. Not only that, but it gave her a chance to buy a bag of brightly-colored candies to share. So, a bonus triple win, and it only puts her a little bit behind schedule as she strolls onto the orchards.

"Applejack!" Pinkie's voice rings out as she trots between trees, head craning this way and that, looking for the farmer. She wends across Sweet Apple Acres, straining her ears to pick up on the telltale thunk of hoof against tree, the plunk of apples into waiting baskets. "Yoo-hoo! Anypony home?"

Seconds pass. Pinkie twitches her ears, neck straining forward at all angles as she trots between neat rows of trees. "Applejack?" she calls again. "Big Mac?" She stops and blinks. "Hey, a rhyme!" The giggle starts in her nose, little tickles that roll down the back of her throat and into her tummy, putting a hop into her skip. "Applejack, Big Mac, Applejack, Big Mac...." The names becomes a cadence as she wanders the orchard, in search of her friends.

The younger farmpony stands at the crest of a hill near the back of Sweet Apple Acres, leaning against one of her signature trees. Her hat's pulled down to shade her eyes, and her tail swishes lazily back and forth. "There you are!" Pinkie dashes up to Applejack and presses her neck to Applejack's in a hug. "I had a pinchy knee while I was looking for the nutmeg Gummy lost or maybe Pound lost it or probably Pound helped Gummy lose it, though how you'd actually help somepony lose something when that means you'd know where it is and suddenly it wouldn't be lost any more is beyond me, but anyway my Pinkie Sense told me something really scary is going to happen to somepony important and here I was thinking I'd find you hard at work, but it looks like you're hardly working! What's wrong?"

Slowly, Applejack turns to face the baker, pushing her hat back with one hoof. The farmer's eyes are green, and Pinkie can see depths of longing in them, surrounded by frustration and fear etched in the wrinkles around them. She smiles, a full open-mouthed smile, and a soft laugh escapes parted lips. "Wrong? Oh, nothin' really, sugarcube. I finished up checkin' the new sprouts about--" Applejack lifts her head to Celestia's sun and strokes her neck. "Oh, 'bout an hour ago, maybe two. I was gonna go check the trees, make sure the bugs hadn't gotten into too many, but then I got t' thinkin'." She waves a hoof off towards Whitetail Wood. "Lot on my mind."

"Well, what are you thinking about?" Pinkie drops to her rear and rummages in her saddlebags for a freshly-acquired lollipop and pops it into her muzzle. "Tell your Auntie Pinkie all about it."

Applejack squints and tugs at her hat. "You... do know I'm older'n you, by about a year, right?"

"Yupperoonie!" Pinkie grins around the lollipop stem. "That's the great thing about being an aunt! It doesn't matter how old you are, or how old I am, just that my parents were older than yours!" She shuffles the sucker to one side of her mouth, her words less garbled by the paper stalk. "So what are you thinking about? You didn't mortgage the farm, did you?"

"What?" Applejack blinks, startled. "That ain't how that works, I don't think, and what in Tartarus makes you think I'd do somethin' like that?"

Pinkie folds her forehooves and crunches noisily on her lollipop for a few seconds. "Well, some things cost a lot of bits, or so I've heard, but don't worry! So what's got you so scared? If I were that worried about money, I might bet the farm myself!"

Applejack's frown pulls at the corner of her muzzle, but then she just shakes her head. "Pinkie, I believe you know what you're talkin' about, but I got no clue. I was just thinkin' about somethin' that happened last night, an' somethin' that happened a long time ago. I ain't scared -- well, maybe a mite nervous -- but I'm happier right now than I've been in a long while."

Pinkie's eyes narrow to slits. "So... there's nothing wrong here?"

Applejack shakes her head. "Eenope."

"Nothing at all?"

Another shake. "Eenope."

"You're just thinking a lot?"

Applejack smiles, a little goofy grin that spreads all the way to her eyebrows. "Eeyup."

Pinkie leans in close, her eyes mere slits against Applejack's wide-eyed bemusement. She opens her muzzle, but before the baker can say a thing something rumbles deep inside. It's a twisty, twitchy tremor shaking down her back, turning her elbows and knees to jelly. Her right ear itches, her left ear twitches, and teeth rattle from the clatter of her jaw. She clamps down hard, squeezing her eyes tightly shut, but the dizzy, fizzy ripples spread up out from her spine, down to each hoof and then all the way back, bones quaking and muscles aching from the top of her scalp to the end of her flank.

Then, as soon as the sensations come, they go. Pinkie drops to her hinds, jaw hanging slack as she stares up at Applejack, her eyes wide and her brow furrowed in concern. "You alright there, sugarcube?"

"Oh, wow," Pinkie breathes. She jumps back to her hooves, then looks down at each in turn as if surprised they're supporting her. She hasn't had a reaction like that since Twilight and the falling anvils and the hydra and the Pinkie Sense about Twlight and Pinkie Sense. "That was a doozy."

The color drains from Applejack's face and beads of sweat dot the edge of the hat. The farmer swallows hard, her eyes darting all about the orchard but never quite landing back on Pinkie. "What do you think it was about, do you reckon?"

"I don't know!" Pinkie squeaks, "but I'll bet my last cookie it's way more important than a pinchy knee. That wasn't the dooziest of doozies, but it sure was a doozy of a doozy!" She pulls herself to her full height, chest thrust forward, head held high. She coughs, then speaks in as solemn a voice as the farmer has ever heard. "Applejack, everypony is okay if you're okay." She holds up out a hoof, turning her head away. "Don't tell me; it's not time. Whatever's on your mind, it's going to be fine." The baker darts forward and pulls her friend into the tightest of hugs. "I have to go. Somepony's still about to have a scary day, and I need to be there."

When Pinkie lets go, Applejack staggers back against the tree, then looks up to see the party pony bounding off between the trees. "Just don't bet the farm!" she shouts over her shoulder.

The road from Sweet Apple Acres back to Carousel Boutique passes through the market, and on Canterday morning, that means oodles, maybe even boodles of ponies at which to wave and smile. Lyra and the Flower Trio join her for an impromptu singalong, and Blossomforth and Flitter pause in their cloud-wrangling to provide an aerial display to accompany it. After the song and a round of hooves from the onlookers-turned-audience, one of the sisters lands beside Pinkie and whispers a suggestion to her, one followed by a flutter of her wings and a raised eyebrow. Pinkie laughs and nods, then hugs the pair before skipping past the stalls and up to the door of Rarity's home-and-business.

The windows around the ground floor of Rarity's shop are dark, and the sign on the front door apologizes that the boutique is closed. Pinkie peers intently at the words, then rears back and raps her hoof repeatedly against the wood. "Rarity? Are you home?" She waits the appropriate three seconds, then knocks again. "Rarity? Is everything okay?"

Pinkie chews on her lip, tail bobbing in agitation behind her. "I know I shouldn't just go in, but... what if she's in trouble?" One hoof drums a nervous tattoo against the boutique door. "What if she isn't answering because she can't come to the door?" Both hooves snap to her muzzle, her eyes going wide. "What if she's the reason I had the pinchy knee and the scary thing I'm supposed to be saving her from is happening right now?" The party pony gasps, then grabs the knob and twists. In the space between her hooves, reality bends, and the lock warps in response to Pinkie's frantic actions. As soon as she drops to all fours again, the effect passes and the latch snaps back to true, but the front door now hangs slightly ajar.

Pinkie dashes inside, oblivious to her own workings; magic is something unicorns do with their horns, right? The boutique itself is mostly dark; Celestia's sun just peeks in beneath the blinds and glances through the open doorway, leaving scattered patches of light around the edges of the main room. Half-dressed pardequins line the walls, a doll parade frozen in time. Racks of costumes sit around the room, roles forever waiting to be played. The kitchen is equally quiet, as is the guest room. At the top of the stairs, though, a crack shines out under Rarity's bedroom door, and muffled thumps echo from within.

"Rarity! I'm coming!" Pinkie's hooves are on the bedroom door even before she's registered stepping on the stairs, and then she twists and tugs, yanking open the bedroom door. On the edge of the bed is a small suitcase, and arranged in neat bundles around it are a plethora of very special toys. The heart-shaped crop is easiest to identify, as is the Signature Colt Steel Original. Beyond that is a veritable pick-a-mix of cuffs and collars, ribbons and reins. In the middle of it all, the unicorn stands transfixed, her cheeks and ears bright pink, one eyelid twitching behind her red-rimmed glasses.

"Pinkie," Rarity breathes, "how in Celestia's name did you get in here?"

"Your front door was open!" Pinkie bounds over to the bed and presses against the ramrod-stiff Rarity in a hug. "I was at Sugarcube corner helping Gummy unlose some nutmeg and then I had a pinchy knee and then Applejack gave me a doozy at Sweet Apple Acres and I said everything was going to be fine and then I came here thinking maybe you were the one with the scary night, and I was right!" She picks up the portable stallion in both hooves. "The first time I tried one this big, I couldn't sit for a day afterward!"

Rarity's pale-blue aura engulfs the toy and tugs it firmly from Pinkie's hooves, then tucks it back into its carrying case. "Pinkie Pie," she says with a clearing of her throat. "It is rude to go through another's private effects without asking." I quite clearly recall closing the boutique early, yet here you are. May I ask why?"

Pinkie shuffles back half a step from the bed. Rarity's smiling, but her eyes are narrowed and one eyelid continues its up-and-down twitch, kind of like a Pinkie Sense for bad ideas. "But, Rarity, somepony is about to have a really scary day and I'm trying to help!" Her voice rises on the last word, stressing just how important it is to her. "I saw the shop was closed and I thought maybe it was because you were scared and I had to do something!"

Rarity sighs and puts away her glasses. "I appreciate your earnestness, Pinkie, but I'm not scared. I am a trifle nervous, but...." She gestures to the bed. "If you must know, I'm going on an overnight trip to visit somepony... special."

"Ooh!" Pinkie brightens at that and clops her hooves together, a grin splitting her muzzle. "You've got a special somepony!" She blinks, and as fast as the smile appears, it fades, replaced with a squint. "Hey, if you've got a special somepony, how come you never told us?"

Rarity puts her hoof on Pinkie's withers and pats her comfortingly. "I didn't say I had a special somepony, Pinkie; I said I was visiting somepony special. It's... well, it's very complicated, and I don't want to bore you with details."

Pinkie rubs her muzzle with one hoof. "So... you're not scared either?"

The seamstress favors her friend with a gentle smile. "No, not really."

"Just nervous?"

"Only a little."

Pinkie thinks about this for a few seconds. "Well, alright then! I'd better get back to figuring out who that pinchy knee was for. Just go slow and take your time. Colt Steel's a doozy!" And with that, she dashes back downstairs and out of the boutique, making sure the door locks behind her.

Golden Oaks isn't too far from Town Hall, which gives Pinkie time to pop in and see the mayor and check to see if the permits for her bounce castle dance club idea have been approved. Unfortunately, the paperwork comes back with a lot of red marks -- who needs safety inspectors with the Elements of Harmony in town -- and a big stamp of REJECTED across the top. She grabs another stack of business proposal forms on her way out of Town Hall; maybe Mayor Mare will like her treadmill-powered pancake factory better.

Unlike Carousel Boutique, the library sign still prominently says Open -- no surprise there; it's still before five. The door swings open at a touch, and Pinkie cranes her head inside. "Twilight? Anypony home?"

Spike dashes over to the door and takes Pinkie's hoof in his claws. "Oh, thank Celestia!" He tugs the pony inside and points towards the stacks. "Can you go talk to Twilight, maybe calm her down?"

Pinkie's eyes widen and her smile lights up the entryway. "I'm on the job, Spike!" She raps her hoof to her forehead in a royal salute, then trots into the library itself, stopping dead just inside, jaw hanging. The air of the library is filled with books. Big ones, small ones, some as big as her head all go swimming past one another in a merry gavotte around the room. Occasionally one will duck into a shelf, only to have its neighbor pop loose and join the widening gyre. In the center of it all, Twilight Sparkle sits in the middle of the floor, forehooves rapping against the ground in nervous succession, her eyes and horn aglow, wordlessly muttering beneath her breath.

Spike puts a claw on Pinkie's back. "She said she was going to skip reshelving today, but... well, it's Twilight. What are you gonna do?"

Pinkie pushes her jaw closed with one hoof. "Wow. I mean, I knew Twilight was powerful, but...!"

The dragon shrugs. "Normally she waits until after the library's closed to do this, but she's got a date tonight, so she--"

Pinkie spins to face face the dragon. "A date? Oh my gosh! That's so neat!" She charges forward and sweeps the librarian up into a hug. "Congratulations, Twilight!"

"Augh!" Twilight's eyes fade to violet, and the books around her tumble like so many dominoes. "Pinkie! What are you doing? I don't have time for this!"

"But Twilight, you said you were going to skip reshelving today!" Spike waddles over and folds his arms across his chest. "I think you almost gave Mr. Wattles a heart attack when his newspaper flapped away."

"Yes, well...." The librarian huffs and rises from her seat. "I just couldn't skip it, Spike. It's Canterday. That means reshelving. It's part of the job description."

Spike grimaces. "Twilight, you wrote that schedule yourself. Nothing says you can't change it every once in a while."

"Hold on a minute!" Pinkie turns and puts a hoof on each of the other's shoulders. "You're both missing the most important part of everything that's been said so far."

"What?" ask both Twilight and her assistant as one.

Pinkie's grin broadens as she pulls both of the others into a fresh hug. "You said 'date', and that's like a really super-duper important private party, and guess who knows all about parties!" She grabs a notepad and pen in her teeth from the front desk, then flips the paper open. "So, who's it with, what are you doing, and when should I ask if it went okay?"

Twilight cringes under the barrage of questions. She starts to open her muzzle, then closes it again. One hoof rises, then falls. She looks at Spike with pleading eyes, but the dragon just shakes his head. The books rise and begin an orderly march back towards the shelves. "Rainbow Dash. She's bringing a pizza and we're going to study meditation and focus training for pegasi and then read Quartermane. And... tomorrow at the pet play date, I guess?"

Pinkie ignores the book parade as she makes tick marks on the page before her. "Hmm." She squints at the paper, then frowns. "You've forgotten a dessert."

The librarian pales. "D-dessert? Nopony said... I mean... I didn't know I needed one!"

Spike quickly dashes forward to put his claws on Twilight's shoulders. "You don't! It'll be fine without it, promise!" He shoots Pinkie a scowl, unmistakably saying fix that with his eyes.

"Oh, sure!" Pinkie nods rapidly. "If you and Rainbow settled on pizza, then pizza it is!" She sweeps forward and hugs Twilight again, sending a few more books sprawling to the floor. "Oh, I'm so happy for you! You're just going to have to tell Auntie Pinkie all about it after!"

Twilight pulls away rapidly and sends the last of the books back to their homes, dust-free and ready for reading. "I'll share what I can. And I'm older than you."

Pinkie giggles. "Oh, Twilight, you're so silly. Applejack said the same thing when I went to the farm! That pony was about to bet the farm on a doozy." She keeps on talking through Twilight's non-plussed stare. "Then I went to Rarity but I can't talk about what we talked about because I Pinkie-promised, and then I came here because I'm still trying to find whomever set off my pinchy knee!" She blinks rapidly, one and one finally summing to three. "Oh my gosh! Are you scared your date's going to go badly?"

Twilight steps back and whips her head back and forth. "No! I mean, not really. I'm nervous -- this is my first date -- but I've done all my research. It's like any other exam, really."

Spike rolls his eyes. "She's been talking to herself in the mirror again. It's like Mr. Smarty Pants found a marefriend."

Twilight shushes Spike, but Pinkie leans forward and rubs her cheek against the librarian's. "Oh, it's okay, Twilight! There's nothing to be scared of. It's just a date! It's like hanging out with a friend but maybe with kissing!" Both hooves jump to her mane, and again reality bends just enough for her to find a pair of dress-up dolls within, one purple and one blue. Before Twilight's slack-jawed gaze, she proceeds to make lip-smacking noises while pressing their heads together awkwardly.

"How did you do that?" the librarian finally asks.

Spike puts his claws on his hips and huffs. "You've seen her pop out of a potted plant without blinking, but you're surprised by this?"

Twilight puts one hoof to her forehead, mashing just below the horn. "No! I mean, I felt... anyway, this is all a distraction from the central thesis, which is that I am not scared. I am...." She hesitates. "I don't like change, and this is a lot of change all at once, and I'm trying to cope with that."

Pinkie looks up from her dolls. "So you do have Grassburger Syndrome?"

Twilight's voice drops. "What."

"It's not really a secret, silly filly." Pinkie smiles, then scoots forward so she can sit right in front of her friend. "All of the girls guessed, but it's okay. We still like you!" She hesitates a moment, then says. "Like, a lot."

"I like you all, too," Twilight mumbles, looking towards the door. "If it's not really a secret, then I guess I don't really have much reason to be nervous. If it's all the same to you, then, Pinkie, thank you for stopping by, but I should finish up my cleaning before Rainbow gets here."

Pinkie nods again and smiles. "Okay, Twilight. I'll see you tomorrow at the pet play date and you can tell me all about how it went!" She rises to all fours and trots out of the library. The corners of her muzzle tug upwards at the thought of demonstrating just how much a lot might be, but Twilight has enough change to manage right now.

Dash is just touching down beneath her home as Pinkie approaches. The party pony throws herself at the pegasus before Dash's hooves can reach the ground. "Oh! You're here! Congratulations!"

Dash hugs back awkwardly, trying to extract herself out from under Pinkie. She's made a cursory attempt to brush her mane and tail, and her wings are freshly preened minus one enthusiastic tackle-hug. "Hey, Pinkie. How's it going?"

Pinkie jumps to her hooves, bouncing rapidly from left to right. "I just got done talking with Twilight about a pinchy knee, but it wasn't her, but she said she was going on a date, and I asked with who, and guess what she said! Guess guess guess!"

Dash chuckles. "Me?"

Pinkie gasps and cups her hooves to her muzzle. "You guessed! Are you psychic?"

"Pinkie, you are so random." It's an old joke, one that brings a shared giggle to the prankster pair. "Yeah, I'm gonna go pick up a pizza from Cavallino's. She's got a couple of books picked out for us to read. It's gonna be a pretty chill evening."

Pinkie nods in response. "So you're not scared, are you? "

Dash buffs one hoof against her chest. "Me? Scared? Nah, I'm cool. I got this."

"You're sure?" Pinkie waves a hoof back towards Sweet Apple Acres. "You're not still thinking of Applejack, are you?"

Dash's eyes narrow. "No. Fog before the sun."

Pinkie pauses, then puts her hooves together. "And you're not still thinking of--"

"Don't." The word is a command. "I don't need to hear about her either. And no, I'm not. This isn't me trying to prove anything. I'm fine."

Pinkie squints, waiting for some sign that Dash is bluffing, but the pegasus stands loosely on her hooves, wings slowly rustling at her sides. The smile is gone from her face, but even the tension from bad memories is passing quickly. "You don't look scared."

Dash barks a laugh. "That's 'cause I'm not." She waves with a wing. "I gotta get going; it takes Cavallino's, like, forty minutes to bake a pizza; the faster they start, the faster we can get started." She takes to the air and soars back towards the market. "Catch me next week; we'll go swimming!"

Pinkie's smile tightens a little. "Okay, Dash! Have a great time tonight!" She watches until her friend vanishes between buildings, then turns towards the outskirts of town.

Fluttershy's cottage sits almost on the exact opposite side of Ponyville from Sweet Apple Acres, and as Pinkie trots up to her front door, she's starting to feel the burn from all the cantering around she's done. She lifts one hoof and knocks wearily. "Fluttershy? Are you home? It isn't anypony else so it must be you! Are you okay in there?"

The door cracks open, and Fluttershy peeks one bright blue eye out at her visitor. "Oh! Pinkie. I wasn't... I mean I just... um...." She pulls back for a moment, then thrusts her head back through the doorway, her gaze on the ground. "This really isn't a good time for me to have guests."

Pinkie cocks her head to one side and smiles. "If you're afraid of something, then that's the perfect time for guests!"

Fluttershy shakes her head rapidly, primrose mane flicking back and forth. "No, I mean, I'm having... that is... she's around, and my tummy feels like it's full of butterflies and my chest hurts but there's nothing wrong; it's just nerves and I know it."

Pinkie's mane deflates a little, but she nods and offers the pegasus a one-legged hug. "I understand; it's just a bad day for you. Have you had a brownie? Would you like me to bake some for you?"

Fluttershy blushes. "No. I made them the way you showed me, and they work, but I needed to be clear-headed later, so I haven't had any." Even her forced smile lights up her face, despite the dampness at the corners of her eyes.

Pinkie smiles in response, feeling her own eyes watering slightly. "It's okay, really. Oh!" She drops on her rump and rummages through her saddlebags, then comes up with a white paper bag that she noses over to the pegasus. "Here. Salted caramels. They're pretty strong, but one should do wonders if you need a little help. Just go easy on them."

Fluttershy eeps softly at the suggestion, but after a moment's pause, she grabs the sack in her muzzle and tugs it through the door. "Thank you, Pinkie. I will. The last thing I want is... oh, we've talked about all of this. You understand."

Pinkie nods encouragingly. "I do. I really really do." She remembers all the times she's seen Fluttershy yell at somepony and then cry, or cry even without yelling at anypony just because she wanted to, to say nothing of all the times she knows she didn't see Fluttershy because she was hiding. This isn't fear; it's her mind playing tricks on her, meanie-mean tricks that aren't funny for anypony, least of all herself. Pinkie's all too aware of those kinds of unfun games. She still remembers Rocky's admonitions about her friends. She remembers how quick she was to believe them.

Fluttershy flicks a wing. "Um, Pinkie? Is something on your mind?"

Pinkie blinks, then nods. "Yeah, there is. Something is eating at Applejack who wouldn't say what it was. Rarity has some really interesting secrets. Twilight didn't know we knew about her Grassburger's. Dash still really isn't over Gilda or Applejack, but she's about to date Twilight. You're still dealing with your dragon, and me...." Pinkie smiles wanly. "Well, I'm everypony's friend, so I'm fine, but I'm also really tired from doing all this running around trying to figure out why I was getting a pinchy knee!"

"Oh, um... that's unfortunate." Fluttershy nudges the door a little further closed. "I would invite you in, but... this really isn't a good time, like I said."

"Oh, no problemo!" Pinkie knocks the door open long enough to give Fluttershy a big hug, then pulls back. "If you're okay, or you will be, then I'll just head home. I promised the Cakes I'd babysit tonight for the twins! Enjoy the caramels, one at a time!"

Back at Sugarcube Corner, Pinkie lets herself in the front door, wearily sliding her saddlebags to the floor so she can drag them upstairs with one hoof. "I'm home!" She leaves the bag by the stairs, then trots through the storefront to the living room. "Mrs. Cake? Mr. Cake?" Neither of her employers are anywhere in sight, and the twins' room is devoid of twins. They're not even hiding in their toybox.

Pinned to the refrigerator is a note in Mrs. Cake's curly cursive. Pinkie pulls it down and reads it quickly. "Dear Pinkie. Carrot said you looked busy when you left, so we've taken Pound and Pumpkin to Mother's for the weekend. We'll be back late tonight. Have fun with your friends!" She sets the note down on the counter, brow furrowed. "But all my friends are busy! Applejack's all goofy-eyed and Dash and Twilight are on a date and Rarity is busy and Fluttershy isn't up to guests and the twins are gone and even Mr. and Mrs. Cake are out, so the only pony left is--"

Pain lances through Pinkie's right knee, dropping her on her rump and bringing tears to her eyes. As soon as the sensation comes, it goes, but the meaning is suddenly obvious and unmistakable. Pinkie's eyes widen to fill her face. "Ask not for whom the knee pinches," she intones. "It pinches for me!"

Author's Note

For those of you who don't know, I'm both a board member of Pegasi -- the group behind [url=everfreenw.com]Everfree Northwest, which runs the first week of July -- and on the executive staff for [url=rainfurrest.com]RainFurrest, which runs the end of September. Needless to say, the time period between about June and October is very busy for me. This year was my first time trying to be a high-ranking member of two conventions so close to each other, and I just wasn't prepared for the workload. Next year, my role for both cons is changing slightly, so I should be less swamped overall. Plus, I learned a lot about time management and planning that I should be in good shape to apply next year around the same time. This means I should have more time to actually focus on writing!