//------------------------------//
// Chapter 2: It was a Dark and Stormy Night 
// Story: The Secrets of Bitmore Theater 
// by Kegisak 
//------------------------------//


It Was a Dark and Stormy Night


        No cartoons. No movies. No friends. For three whole days.
        Not that Silver Spoon would have been able to spend time with her friends this weekend anyways. Diamond Tiara would be stuck with her aunt during the evenings and most of the day. Any time Diamond Tiara did manage to get away, she was dead set on spending the entire time playing Phantom of the Bitmore. Silver Spoon couldn't blame Diamond, though. After all, she’d met Diamond Tiara's aunt. She was not the most fun pony in the world to spend a weekend with. In truth, Silver herself would have been bored to tears without their plot to keep her busy.
        Diamond Tiara might not think Silver's part of the plan was very difficult, but Silver had a lot to juggle already. There was the obvious problem of how to keep Sweetie Belle close to her without letting the secret out. Then there was the issue of convincing Sweetie to go into the deeper rooms in the first place. Especially after today, Silver sincerely doubted that Sweetie would be willing to go back there.
        There was no way this plan would have worked if it were any other member of the Cutie Mark Crusaders. Applebloom was too practical and straightforward to fall for Silver Spoon's goading; Silver could admit that to herself. Scootaloo would be easy enough to get into the deep rooms, but she would probably try to fight the Phantom head-on. Only Sweetie had the right combination of gullibility and cowardice; just enough to go back there and still be scared. It almost felt unfair. They were picking on the weakest filly they could find. Would they even have bothered pranking one of the other girls?
        “Silver, dear, please sit up straight,” Starling said from across the carriage.
        Silver Spoon blinked and looked up at her mother. She realized that she had allowed herself to sink further and further down on the padded seats until only her head rested against the back. The rest of her body was splayed awkwardly across the seat and dangling over the edge. “Oh,” she said. “Sorry.” She grunted and shuffled her way back into a sitting position, then leaned forward to rest her forelegs on her knees.
        Silver Spoon's father laughed openly. Starling hid her snicker behind her hoof as well. “You know, dear,” she said, “there's no reason to look so glum. You knew you weren't allowed to go back into the storage rooms. Even if your friend wanted to see them, you should have put your hoof down. Or at the very least, come and seen me or your father. I'd have been a bit more forgiving if one of us were there with you.”
        Silver Spoon sighed. “I know, mom,” she said. “You're right, I shouldn't have listened to her. Being grounded still sucks.”
        Starling looked like she was about to retort, but her husband cut her off. “Oh, let the girl sulk, Starling,” he said. His voice was a deep rumble that always put Silver Spoon at ease. It sounded like thunder in the distance, with just a tinge of accent from his days in the navy. “Fair or not, you remember how awful it was to be grounded.”
        Starling smiled faintly and shifted her jaw. “I do not, in fact,” she said. “I was a good girl, growing up.”
        “What happened, then?” Sunlight asked. Silver giggled behind her hoof, and Starling herself visibly struggled not to smile.
While her parents continued to banter back and forth, Silver Spoon leaned back against her seat. As her funk returned, a grumble rose under her breath. This was all Sweetie Belle's fault.
        Try as she might, though, Silver Spoon couldn't actually bring herself to fault Sweetie Belle. Oh sure, she was the reason Silver had gone into the back rooms in the first place, but only to prank Sweetie. If anything, it was Diamond Tiara's fault. She was the one who came up with the plan in the first place. Diamond Tiara had only wanted to help, though.
        Silver Spoon sighed and settled deeper into the seat. If it was Diamond Tiara's fault, and Diamond Tiara had only wanted to help, then there wasn't really anypony to blame in the end. There was no sense in moping over something where nopony was at fault. Silver Spoon was going to mope anyways, of course, but she at least knew it was silly. She was convinced that counted for something. She grumbled softly, then rolled over and leaned her head against the window. She stared out listlessly as her mind began to drift.
        No cartoons. No movies. No friends.
        Silver Spoon wasn't sure how much time passed. She was barely awake, hardly even thinking through her funk. All she knew was that eventually, the carriage rolled to a stop.
They had pulled into the drive of their Manehattan home, and After a moment the driver appeared to open the door.
        Silver Spoon was the first to slide out of the carriage, carried by the momentum of the door opening out from under her. She accepted the driver's outstretched hoof to help her down, nodding an absent-minded thanks to him. She stared up at the sky. Thick gray clouds had begun to form overhead. There was no lightning, but she thought she could hear a rumbling in the distance.
        “Rain's coming,” her father commented as he climbed down. “I hope the paint will hold up...”
        “The painters finished the last coat hours ago,” Starling said. “It should be fine overnight. We might be lucky enough for the rain to wash the front of the theater as well.”
        Sunlight bobbed his head back and forth as he considered this. “Maybe,” he said. “Shall we head inside?”
        “Not just yet,” Starling said with a shake of her head. “I'd like to greet our guests and show them in myself. They're pulling up now; it'll only take a moment.”
She was proven right a moment later. Rarity and Sweetie Belle's carriage had already turned into the drive and was pulling up alongside the family's own carriage. Starling looked down at Silver Spoon and added, “You two had better head on in, though. One of you is grounded, after all.”
        Silver Spoon resisted the urge to roll her eyes. “Okay, mom,” she said. Sunlight chuckled and patted Silver Spoon's shoulder, turning her towards the house. Not for the first time, Silver Spoon found herself balking at the idea that her father once lived here, completely alone. It was far larger than their home in Ponyville, but Silver Spoon had never felt very comfortable here. The strong arches and thick columns along the outer wall stretched up to the sky, looking especially imposing against the dark clouds. Silver Spoon caught a hint of Sweetie Belle's voice, and peered over her shoulder as she walked up the front steps. Evidently, Sweetie Belle felt the same as her. Sweetie was gawking up at the mansion, blinking slowly.
        “Wow,” Sweetie Belle said. “I thought Mom and Dad's house was big! This is huge!”
        “You’ll have time for friends after the weekend, dear,” Sunlight said, putting a hoof on Silver’s shoulder. “Besides, Kelson and Nova will be waiting. You won't be starved for company.”
        For the first time that evening, and in spite of her grounding, Silver Spoon grinned. It had been a very long day, about to stretch into a very long weekend, and Nova sounded like just what she needed right now. She had only taken a few steps inside when she heard the telltale pant, followed by the jingle of a collar and soft clatter of claws against the hard floor.
        “Nova!” Silver Spoon shouted happily, opening her forelegs. An enormous Newfoundland barreled down the foyer staircase, nearly tossing Silver Spoon into the air as he threw himself into her hug. She giggled as the dog licked her face. She hugged his broad neck and shoulders. “It's good to see you, boy! Who's a good dog?”
        Nova barked happily and rolled over so that Sweetie could rub his belly. Sunlight chuckled and walked around the pair, calling up to a stallion who had appeared on the balcony.
        “Ahoy!” Sunlight said. His accent slipped out more clearly, as it always did when he spoke to Kelson. “How's it?”
        “All good sir, all good,” Kelson replied as he made his way down the stairs. The burly pegasus spoke with a brogue every bit as thick as his build, much thicker than Sunlight's accent even on Sunlight's worst days. “Nova was as good as y'can expect, from a big dog inna little carriage, and the house is fine as we left it.”
        “I'm glad,” Sunlight said with a nod. “We'll be having company tonight.”
        “Aye?” Kelson said, peering out the door. He coughed, and when he spoke again it was clear he was trying to mask his accent. It didn’t work. “Miss Tiara managed to make it out after all?”
        “No, one of Starling's designers,” Sunlight replied. “And her younger sister, one of Silver's friends. Silver, however, is grounded for the weekend.”
        Silver's smile faded. She had been hoping that her father would have forgotten to pass that along. There went her last chance to get away with something this weekend.
        Instead, Kelson nodded and peered at Silver with a knowing smile. “Aye? Aye,” he said. “Seems a shame. You go runnin' in the back again, Wee Miss?”
        Silver winced, and laughed awkwardly. “I... yeah,” she sighed. “I know I'm not supposed to.”
        “Aye, well,” Kelson said, peering over Silver Spoon's head and out the door again. Silver Spoon looked back. Her mother was still outside, talking to Rarity and Sweetie Belle. “'Tween you and I, and your Pap, nothing wrong with a bit of adventure.” He coughed, then straightened up. “Still! Rules is rules.” He turned to Sunlight. “I'll take her to her room, then?”
        “If you could,” Sunlight said with a nod. “I should greet Miss Rarity and Sweetie Belle as well.”
        Just then, however, Sweetie came bolting through the door like a bullet aimed straight at Silver Spoon. Silver fell back and yelped, shocked by the sudden approach.
“Silver, wait u—” Sweetie Belle said, before she was cut off by one hundred and fifty pounds of fur. Nova had placed himself in between Silver and Sweetie, and seemed to barely notice as Sweetie Belle bounced off his side and flopped to the floor. He barked and crouched down to lick Sweetie’s face with a series of loud slurps.
“Nova!” Silver Spoon said, sitting up. “Bad boy!” She jumped down from the bed, running into the hall after them and hooking her hooves into Nova’s collar. She hauled backwards, but Nova didn't seem to notice her at all. After a few moments of fruitless straining Nova finally backed up off his victim. Silver Spoon blinked.
        “Sweetie Belle?” Silver Spoon asked through a grimace. “Are you okay?”
Sweetie Belle answered with a weak groan. She was still stunned, Silver could see that much, but she managed to prop herself up to her elbows. “I... think so,” she said.
        That was good, at least. “I’m sorry about Nova,” Silver Spoon said. “He’s usually good, he's just friendly, and doesn't know his own strength.” She shot a hard look at Nova. This time it seemed to work, as Nova whined quietly. “He's still a puppy,” she said.
        “That's a big puppy,” Sweetie Belle said as she got the rest of the way to her hooves.
        “Yeah, well,” Silver said with a shrug. She paused. “Sweetie, what are you doing here?”
        “Your mom invited Rarity and me to stay with you, remember?” Sweetie Belle said.
        Silver Spoon simply stared at Sweetie Belle for a moment. She decided not to comment on that. “Sweetie, I’m grounded. I can’t… uh…” Silver Spoon's heart stopped. Her mother and Rarity had both come inside and they, Kelson, and Silver’s father were all staring directly at Silver and Sweetie.
        “Mom! Daddy!” Silver Spoon said, catching a glimpse of her mother's rapidly darkening expression. She stepped away from Sweetie. “Uhhh...”
        “Young Lady,” Starling began, but Sweetie Belle stepped forward.
        “Please don't get mad at Silver!” she said, waving her hooves. “It was my idea. I was thinking... uh, well...” Sweetie Belle stammered a bit and rubbed her neck. “Well, it just seemed unfair that she was grounded this weekend, is all.” She let the statement hang in the air for a moment. Silver Spoon's parents looked at one another. Sunlight cocked an eyebrow.
        “It's just,” Sweetie Belle continued, “it was my fault she was in the back rooms in the first place. And I know you told her she shouldn't have listened to me, and uh, she shouldn't have, but... she's still got a whole long weekend in the same house as one of her friends, so it... just seems unfair that we can't do anything together.” She swallowed and flashed a toothy, desperate smile up at Silver's parents.
        Starling was still frowning, though she at least didn't look angry. “You still broke the rules, Silver,” She pointed out. “Whether or not it's fair, you knew you weren't allowed back there. We can't simply overlook that.” She turned to her husband, obviously expecting confirmation, but Sunlight was rubbing his chin.
        “She makes a good argument,” he said. “It does seem a bit harsh.”
        Starling’s frown deepend. “Well, yes,” she said. “she’s being punished. It wouldn’t be much of a punishment if she didn’t miss out anything, now would it?”
        “Maybe so, but this sees like a bit much for what she did, don’t you think?” Sunlight asked. “Not being able to see her friends is one thing; having one here and not being able to spend time with her is quite another.”
        Starling began to retort, but faltered. “Well… it’s not as if we can just not punish her.”
        “Maybe we could suspend her punishment, though?” Sunlight suggested. “She’ll be ungrounded for the weekend—so long as she’s spending time with her friend of course—but her grounding will resume during the week. All four days, not just three, as payment for suspending it.”
        Silver Spoon winced. An extra-long grounding wasn't exactly her idea of fair payment. Then again, she would at least be able to spend time with Diamond Tiara at school during the week. There was nothing they could do about that. “That... seems fair?” Silver said weakly.
        Starling nodded slowly. “I… suppose it does. However,” she said, pointing a hoof at Silver, “if you two go back into the back rooms tomorrow, the deal is off. Is that clear?”
        “Yes mom,” Silver said with a nod.
        Starling nodded back, and Sunlight chuckled. “Go off and play, then,” he said. “Kelson will bring you both dinner when it’s ready. Nova can stay with us for now.” He whistled, and Nova trotted over to him.
        “Okay!” Sweetie Belle said, taking hold of Silver Spoon's hoof again. “Thanks so much! We'll be good from now on, I promise!”
        Silver Spoon and Sweetie Belle trotted down an adjacent hallway, and Silver Spoon finally became aware that she had been holding her breath. She breathed out heavily and let her shoulders go slack. She managed to lead Sweetie Belle just far enough down the hall that she was sure her parents wouldn't overhear them, then slumped against the wall.
        “Wow,” she said. She lifted up her glasses and rubbed her eyes. “I almost can't believe that worked.” She set her glasses back on her nose and looked at Sweetie Belle. The other filly was beaming broadly, and Silver Spoon couldn't help but smile as well. Sweetie Belle had actually managed to do her an enormous favour. Well, maybe not enormous. There were too many strings attached. “Thanks, Sweetie Belle,” Silver said. “That was cool of you… and really clever. But, uh... why?”
Sweetie Belle giggled and looked down. “Not really,” she said. “I don't really like fudging stuff like that... but I need your help.”
        Silver Spoon's smiled faded. “My help? What do you need my help for?”
        Sweetie Belle opened her mouth to speak, and paused. She looked around for a moment, as though expecting somepony to be listening in, and shuffled closer to Silver. When she spoke it was in a low whisper. “Because of the Phantom!”
        A silence fell over the two fillies. Silver Spoon felt her heart start to pound in her chest. Her mind, cruel trickster that it was, ran through all of the worst options. Was Sweetie Belle onto her? Was this blackmail? Silver Spoon knew that Sweetie Belle was smarter than Diamond Tiara gave her credit for, but this was way too soon. Sweetie Belle had been petrified when they saw the Phantom; there was no way she would have had the presence of mind to figure it out.
        “Silver,” Sweetie said. Silver spoon's heart skipped a beat. “Your mom didn't believe us when we told her about the Phantom, and I don't think anypony else will either. We're the only two who know he exists, and what he's planning to do! If we don't stop him, nopony will, and you know what he said he'll do if we don't!”
        It took everything Silver Spoon had to not sigh with relief. At the very least Sweetie Belle hadn't caught on to the prank. Yet. Silver looked back and forth down the hall, trying to find some way out of this.
        “Well...” Silver Spoon said, pawing at the floor. “Well, what's the big deal? There's no way he can actually follow through on any of those threats.”
        “He did before!” Sweetie Belle insisted.
        Silver Spoon rolled her eyes. Sweetie Belle was going to be persistent about this. How was Silver Spoon supposed to get her to back off and make sure she could still get Sweetie Belle into the back rooms tomorrow? “You don't know that,” she said. “It could have just been a random fire and this guy is taking credit for it.” She turned away from Sweetie and started towards her bedroom.
        Sweetie Belle darted around her, blocking the hall. “But what if it wasn't? What if he actually can burn down the theater? What if somepony gets hurt?”
        Silver Soon frowned. “Nova,” she said. Her voice was as stern and commanding as she could manage, but nothing happened. It took her a long, awkward moment to remember that Nova was no longer in his usual place at her side. “Ugh,” she said. “Right.” Silver Spoon shook her head and turned back down the hall.
        The manor was an ancient thing, built close to the founding of Manehattan and updated by its various owners until Silver’s father had bought it years ago. The result was a twisting, if regal, mass of hallways and deceptively large or small rooms. Walls had been knocked out according the whims of one owner, then put up by the next, and vents and electricity had been added as soon as it was feasible. Silver wove her way through the corridors, trying her best to escape Sweetie Belle. She had half hoped that Sweetie might get caught up in the glitz of the powerful ceiling arches, or the various paintings of old relatives, or even tripped down by the lush cream carpets. She weaved through bedrooms and sitting rooms and parlours, but Sweetie Belle dogged her every step.
        “Go away, Sweetie,” she said eventually.. “The dumb Phantom isn't going to hurt anypony. If you want to play ghost chaser, then fine, but I don't want to get into any more trouble this weekend. I’d rather just be grounded.”
        Sweetie Belle grabbed Silver Spoon's foreleg and pulled her back. Silver Spoon stumbled for a moment, surprised by the filly’s sudden burst of aggression. Then she rounded on Sweetie Belle. She worked up the will to shove Sweetie away, to shout at Sweetie to leave her alone. Instead she stopped. Sweetie Belle's face was turning red, her eyes brimming with tears.
        “Please, Silver Spoon,” Sweetie Belle said. She sounded like she was about to cry as well, her voice cracking even more than usual. “You're the only pony who can help! This is your parents’ theater too, don't you even care that it could get burned down? What if they're inside?”
        “Wh—I,” Silver Spoon stammered. 
Sweetie Belle carried on, though, determined not to be brushed off this time. “All you ever do is be mean to ponies!” she said. “But we had a truce this weekend, okay? So...” she sniffled. “So why can't you just be nice for once? Can't you just do the right thing, just this one time? I need your help, Silver.”
        “I...” Silver Spoon said. She rocked from hoof to hoof, chewing her lip. How could she say no to that? Sweetie Belle looked like she could burst into tears at any moment. She wasn't sure if she felt worse or better about pranking Sweetie Belle now. The filly clearly had a weapon of her own.
Silver Spoon groaned and rolled her head. “Okay,” she said. “Fine.” She faltered for a moment, then leaned forward and hugged Sweetie. “Just don't cry, okay? I... don't think I could convince your sister it wasn't my fault.”
        Sweetie froze up, but after a long moment she hugged Silver back. “Y-yeah,” Sweetie Belle said, sniffling faintly. “I'm fine.”
        Silver Spoon let go of Sweetie and leaned against the wall. At least Sweetie Belle was feeling better, but Silver was well and truly stuck now. She sighed internally. At the very least she might be able to make sure Sweetie Belle didn't come up with anything that actually risked Diamond Tiara being caught. She rubbed her foreleg. “So, uh…what now? Is there a part two of your plan?”
        “Oh,” Sweetie said, looking up again. She blinked. “Uh, I... hadn't actually thought of that.”
        Silver Spoon paused. “Seriously?” she asked. She had never met somepony who could be so clever in some ways and so airheaded in others. Even Diamond Tiara was at least consistent in where her 'master plans' had holes.
        Sweetie Belle looked away and crossed her hooves defensively. “Well, I was gonna figure that out if I could get your parents to let us be together! And I did, so...” She knit her brows. “I guess... Well, we need to stop the Phantom.”
        “Well yeah,” Silver said. “That's kinda the point of this.”
        Sweetie Belle frowned at Silver. “I know that,” she said. “But... you saw the way The Phantom was flying around, right? I'm not sure a pony could actually fly like that... especially not without us seeing his wings. I think... The Phantom might actually be a phantom.”
        “Okay,” Silver said. “So?”
        Sweetie Belle hummed, knitting her brow deeper. “So...” she said. “Well, we need to come up with something to stop a ghost, I guess! But... I don't actually know what that is.”
        Silver Spoon frowned and leaned back against the wall. “I don't know either,” she said. For once, she was being honest. If Sweetie Belle was going to hunt a ghost, however, then there was nothing for Silver to worry about. It would be easy enough to keep her away from anything that would actually have a chance at catching Diamond. Sweetie Belle would be disappointed if they went in there without a plan tomorrow, however. She might not even be willing to go into the back rooms at all, without something to back them up. Silver might not have had to worry about Sweetie Belle potentially catching Diamond, but they still needed to come up with something. “We should at least get something to make it easier to see back there,” she muttered to herself.
        “Oh!” Sweetie Belle said, perking up. “That's a great idea!”
        Silver Spoon looked up. “Huh?” she asked. “What is?”
        “Something to see better!” Sweetie said. “It was super dark back there, and the Phantom snuck up on us. But I'll bet if we could see what we were doing better we might be able to get the drop on him.” She rubbed her chin. “I don't know much about ghosts, but the light might hurt him, too! That's a great idea, Silver!”
        “I... you think so?” Silver asked. She hadn't even been trying to come up with a real idea.
        “Absolutely! Do you have a flashlight or something?”
        “Um... well, I guess we have a garage where the carriages are kept. There might be some stuff in there?”
        “That's great,” Sweetie Belle said. “Come on, I bet it's a super good one too!” She turned around and began to trot off as Silver Spoon clambered to her hooves.
        Silver Spoon stared after Sweetie Belle as she trotted away. She waited for a moment. Then another. Eventually she put her hoof to her mouth and shouted, “Sweetie!”
        Sweetie turned around. “Huh?” she shouted back.
        Silver Spoon pointed over her shoulder. “The garage is that way.”
        “...Oh,” Sweetie Belle said. It was difficult to tell at this distance, but Silver Spoon was pretty sure Sweetie Belle was blushing. Sweetie Belle cantered back to Silver and said, “Maybe you should lead the way.”
        “Yeah,” Silver Spoon said. she smirked and started to lead Sweetie in the direction of the garage. “That’s probably for the best.”
        Silver worked out a plan as they walked. What could she suggest that would believably stop a ghost, but not Diamond Tiara? Most importantly, how far could she push the issue without Sweetie figuring her out? Silver had to keep reminding herself that Sweetie was sharper than she seemed. She could almost forgive Diamond Tiara for assuming Sweetie was stupid.
        It seemed impossible to tell what she was thinking about at any given moment, or how much she knew. What she picked up on or missed seemed random at best, and no matter whether she had something or not she kept an air of charm and sweetness that disguised what she was thinking. Even worse, her smile made a pony want to just smile back and forget about it.
        Even now Silver wasn't sure if Sweetie was on to her or if she was just genuinely being nice. It seemed absurd to think of. Silver had spent so much time being nasty to Sweetie Belle and her friends, the fact that Sweetie was trying to call a truce was amazing.
        Silver Spoon scowled. That was something else to add to the list: Sweetie Belle was outright distracting with how nice she was. If it had been Diamond Tiara—or anypony else, really—Silver could have been sure she was doing it on purpose, but Sweetie made it feel genuine. Silver adjusted her glasses and put the thought out of her mind. Whether or not Sweetie was trying to distract her, she still had to come up with something.
        Silver Spoon slowed slightly as they approached the garage door. It had been propped open, and she could hear some rummaging coming from inside. She peeked through as she and Sweetie arrived and scanned the large, open room.
        In spite of the gilded nature of the rest of the manor, the garage was as dull and dingy as any. Both walls and floor were dark gray stone with little in the way of adornments. Puddles of oil and rainwater dotted the floor around the two carriages, and the nearby wall was obscured by a tall pile of cardboard boxes, enough to fill a smaller garage with barely room to walk. Behind the pile, Silver Spoon knew, was where the drivers did the majority of their work maintaining carriages. There was a tool bench that Silver suspected had never been organized in its existence, constantly strewn with various tool and parts as the drivers needed them. Beside that was a tall, rickety shelf containing various bits and pieces used to maintain the carriages.
The rain came down, and its hiss and the clatter on the cobblestone outside gave the room a low soundtrack through the open garage door. If the door had been left open that meant the drivers were on break, which meant there could only be one pony in here. Silver Spoon fought to keep a grin down as an idea popped into her head. This was perfect.
        “Kelson?” Silver Spoon called into the garage. The sound of rummaging stopped, and the stallion peeked out from behind a stack of boxes.
        “Ah!” Kelson said, beaming up at the two fillies. Silver Spoon stepped inside, carefully climbing down the three wooden steps to the garage floor. “Wee Miss. Wee Miss's friend... Miss Belle, was it?”
        Sweetie Belle giggled as she followed Silver into the garage. “Um, you can just call me Sweetie, Mr. Kelson,”
        Kelson smiled wider. “Well then, Sweetie, y’can just call me Kelson. How can I help you two?”
        “We're looking for a flashlight,” Sweetie Belle said. Kelson's smile faded.
        “Now, Wee Miss,” he said, turning to Silver, “I know I did say a bit of adventure is good for a young filly, but y’shouldn't be so quick to disobey your mam...”
        Sweetie winced and began to stammer, but Silver cut her off. “Oh, we aren't going into the back rooms,” Silver assured Kelson. “But we heard about a ghost haunting the theater today! So, we need a flashlight in case we see him and need to scare him off...” She blinked as though she had just thought of something, and adjusted her glasses. “Um… say, Kelson?” she asked. “Do you know anything about ghosts? It's just, there are so many stories about haunted ships, and you were a sailor for so long...”
        Kelson tilted his head slightly and smiled. “Aye...” he said slowly. “Aye, I've seen a ghost or two in my time, as it happens. An' I can tell you, a flashlight ain't gonna stop them. Ghosts come with their own light, y'ken? Fire from the ropes, fire from the masts, that's how y'know a ghost’s comin',” He cleared his throat and took a seat on a sturdy box.
        “It was a few years a'fore your pap an’ I sailed together,” he said. “I was just a lad, servin' on a wee schooner. We were sailin' far north, close to a place sailors don't go… I suppose we drifted too close. Was about midnight a fire went up from the main-mast, St. Elmo's fire. I'd seen it a’fore, but not like this. It stretched up right to the heavens. Then we heard a wailin', an’ then ghosts! Dozens of 'em, just... there. Ghosts on the riggin', ghosts up the crow's nests, ghosts in the galley... wailin' an' gnashin' an’ settin' half the crew mad with fright. We'd a likely been lost, if it hadn’t been for the cook.”
        This wasn't the first time Silver Spoon had heard this story, but the mere thought of it sent shivers up her spine. She had asked her father once if he thought it was true. All he had said is that sometimes strange things happen at sea. Silver Spoon peered over at Sweetie. The other filly was visibly trembling, but she was enraptured by the story.
        “T-the cook?” Sweetie Belle asked. “What did he do?”
        “Well, he found the secret a’how to stop the ghosts,” Kelson said. “'He must'a done it by accident—knocked his cupboards out in fear of the ghosts, maybe—but he came out an’ set them ghosts away right after...” Kelson reached behind the stack of boxes and rummaged around for a moment. “Nay, Wee Miss, it aint light you need. It’s salt!” He drew his hoof back and placed an enormous tin container of salt in front of himself.
        Sweetie looked staggered by the revelation. In fact, she almost physically staggered back, rocking on her heels. “Salt?” she asked.
        “Aye, salt,” Kelson said. “I know, I know, it sounds mad. Probably is. But the ghosts clean vanished at the touch of it. The rest of them got the picture soon enough and backed off. Wouldn’t even cross a line of salt on the deck. I can't tell you why it works, I only know it does.”
        He rubbed his chin. “Course, your mam probably won't like you walkin' around tossin' salt all over the theater. If you're lookin' to double up, I used to tell that story to anypony who'd listen in a port, and I found a few ponies with some ghost stories of their own. Most of them just turned tail and ran as fast as they could, or went overboard and got lucky enough to find another boat. I met one stallion though, swore up down an’ sideways that the ghosts just passed him by. He said he thought over it a dozen times, and the only thin' it coulda been was a pocketful of iron bolts. So, might be worth a go?” He shrugged. “Any sailor worth his spit gets hisself some kinda good luck charm or protective talisman before his first year of sailin's out.
        “Now!” He slapped his knees and got to his hooves, retrieving a thick, leatherbound book from behind the stack. “I'm afraid I was in here lookin' for one of your mam's old family albums, so I'd best be gettin' back to her.” He tucked the book under a wing and headed for the door. He patted Silver’s head gently as he reached her, brushing a stray lock of mane back into place. He smiled down at her. “An’ don't be lettin' that ghost scare you too bad,” he said. “I know you an’ Phantoms don't get along too well, ‘specially where theater's concerned, but you're a brave filly. Don't let what might not be there get y’too riled up.”
        Silver Spoon cringed so hard she nearly curled into a ball. This had to be the time Kelson picked to tease her? There was no way Sweetie Belle hadn't heard that. Kelson laughed and ruffled her mane before trotting up the stairs. “Don't forget t’close the door when you’re done, Wee Miss,” he said.
        Silver Spoon groaned under her breath and looked over her shoulder at Sweetie, her face contorted in a miserable, squinting grimace. It had taken weeks of careful dodging and false promises to get Diamond Tiara to stop asking about it. She could practically feel Sweetie Belle’s question coming, as though it were an animal waiting to pounce.
        Sweetie, for her part, seemed confused. She wore a small frown, and her head was tilted like a curious puppy’s. “What was that about?” she asked.
        Silver Spoon looked away. “It—” she said, rubbing her neck. “It's just a thing from when I was young, and a show, and, uh...” She rubbed her neck. “We should get looking for that flashlight,” she said.
        “Right,” Sweetie agreed. She trotted towards the collection of shelves and boxes and peered over her shoulder. “Does it have something to do with why you don't like theater? Kelson mentioned theater and opera—”
        “No,” Silver Spoon cut her off. “I mean, yes, but—look, I don't want to talk about it, okay?”
        “Oh,” Sweetie said. She paused, but eventually said, “Um, okay. Where would the flashlights be?”
        Silver Spoon breathed a sigh of relief. At least Sweetie wasn't going to latch onto the idea like Diamond Tiara had. “I guess it'd probably be on the tool bench?” she said, pointing to the bench in question. “If you look for that, I guess I can... probably find some nuts and bolts or something?” She picked up the tin of salt that Kelson had left behind. “I think we've got enough salt.”
        “Okay,” Sweetie Belle said as she trotted toward the toolbench. “That's a good plan. But... do you really think having iron will help?”
        “Well, sure?” Silver Spoon said. She trotted past Sweetie Belle to the shelves. She knew that she'd seen the carriage drivers taking odds and ends to maintain the carriages from here, so there must have been something. “Kelson said that stallion had it, right? Even if it wasn't what kept the ghost away from him, it's worth a shot.”
        “Right,” Sweetie Belle agreed. “But, did the iron keep the ghost away from him, or make the ghost not see him?”
        Silver Spoon pulled a box out of the shelf and peeked inside. It contained an old pair of slippers and a discarded nail. Definitely not something they could use. “Does it matter?” she asked as she shoved the box back into place. Her mind was only half on the conversation as she thought of ways she could use the iron. A fake ward, maybe? 
“Sure it does,” Sweetie Belle said. She had begun shifting the old tools aside. “How are we supposed to fight the Phantom if he doesn't even know we’re there?”
        An idea struck Silver Spoon so suddenly and so violently that her head jerked up and thumped against the shelf above her. She clutched her head for a moment, but she quickly recovered and adjusted her glass. “Sweetie, why on earth would we want to fight the Phantom?” she asked. Sweetie Belle opened her mouth, but Silver cut her off. Silver felt her stomach knot up; Sweetie Belle could easily steer them to a dangerous plan and there was no reasonable way that Silver would be able to talk her out of it.
        “This guy burned down the theater and tried to hurt ponies before he died,” Silver said. “What would he be like now? And you want to—what? Challenge him to a hooffight?”
        Sweetie Belle considered this for a moment, looking more and more fearful as she thought about it. “Oh,” she said softly. Silver breathed a sigh of relief, and Sweetie said, “Then... what are we supposed to do?”
        “Well...” Silver Spoon said. She tapped her chin in a pantomime of thought, but the idea was already fully formed. Sweetie Belle would give diamond Tiara all the warning in the world if Sweetie thought she was invisible. “We could use the iron to sneak up on him!” Silver said. “He'd never see us coming!”
        Sweetie Belle gasped and beamed, reaching out and grabbing Silver's hooves. “That's a great idea!” she said. Her voice squeaked with excitement. “We can just sneak up behind him and toss the salt on him!” Though her smile never faded, she took on a look of profound concentration. “And... and, if the iron actually just pushes ghosts away, we can use that too! There's a bunch of twine here we can use to make a net, and if we string a bunch of nuts and bolts and stuff along the twine before we tie it, I'll bet that the net will be able to catch the Phantom!”
        “That's a good idea,” Silver said. She grimaced internally and added, “What, um... what if we put the net over the door? He was avoiding pipes and stuff, so he might not be able to go through walls. We might be able to trap him inside even if we can't catch him?”
        Sweetie beamed. “Good plan,” she said. She turned back the pile of boxes, rummaging through for the twine she had seen. “See if you can find some nuts and bolts and stuff we can put on it!”
        “Yeah,” Silver said as she returned to the shelf. She sighed with relief and rubbed her eyes. She could only hope that this plan would tide Sweetie Belle over. From where she left off, she only had to move a few more boxes down before she found one full nearly to bursting with discarded nuts, bolts and screws. She dragged it off the shelf, grunting from the surprising weight of it, but she managed to keep hold of it.
        Sweetie Belle pulled a large bundle of twine out of the boxes, and turned to Silver. “This is great!” she said. “I bet we'll be able to turn this into a net in no time. I've never made one before, but how hard can it be, right?”
        Silver Spoon was silent for a moment, then smirked. “Cutie Mark Crusaders Net Makers?” She asked. Her tone was just a hint sardonic.
        Sweetie Belle frowned for a moment, but eventually smiled. “We haven’t crusaded since we all got our cutie marks,” she said. “That was like, a year ago when Scootaloo jumped over half the class on her scooter. We just hang out now.”
        “What do you even do?” Silver Spoon asked. “I don't think I ever saw you not trying to do... something for your marks.”
        “We're more like clubhouse crusaders now,” Sweetie said. “We don't really do anything. We just hang out. Sometimes we go out and play. Sometimes we just watch movies.” She giggled. “I guess I can be a garage crusader today.”
There was a flash of lightning and a crash of thunder from outside the garage door. A sharp gust of cold air blew in, bringing rain with it and sending a chill through Silver. She shivered, wrapping her forelegs around herself. “Jeeze,” she muttered. “Well, I don’t know about you, but it isn’t usually so cold where I hang out.”
Sweetie Belle was shivering as well. “Uh, no,” she said. “Maybe we should move inside?”
Silver Spoon nodded. “Did you find that flashlight?” she asked.
“Oh, yeah,” Sweetie said. She grabbed the flashlight and salt off the workbench. She tossed them and the twine into the box as fast she she could manage, rubbing her forelegs to keep warm. “It got really cold in here…”
Silver grunted as she wrapped her forehooves around the box. “I think the house was built before they invented heating,” she said. “They mostly fixed it, but I guess they never bothered in here.” She hauled the box up and tottered for a moment, quickly setting it down before she could lose her balance. She snorted at the box and set her hooves against it, getting ready to push.
“Ooh, wait!” Sweetie Belle said. Her horn lit up, and with a look of obvious effort she began to levitate the box. “Nnf,” she grunted, straining under the weight against her magic. “I think… I can…” She stumbled a bit, and Silver ran up to her.
“Careful,” Silver said, bracing Sweetie with her shoulder. She set her hooves, trying to hold up Sweetie until the filly could recover, and gasped as she felt a heavy weight land on her back.
“There!” Sweetie declared, panting visibly.
        Silver Spoon twisted her head around to look. The box was situated across both their backs, sharing the weight. Silver Spoon wanted to object at first, but she had to admit that the box wasn’t nearly as heavy shared between them. “... I guess we’re not getting this thing out of here otherwise,” she said eventually. “Ready, I guess?”
“Uh huh!” Sweetie said. Silver Spoon had to stoop slightly to keep level as they set off, but she found it surprisingly easy to keep an even pace with Sweetie Belle.
Sweetie closed the door behind them as they left the garage. She looked sheepish for a moment and said, “... I know it's kind of selfish, but it's fun to have an adventure again. Even if it's really dangerous.”
        Silver shook her head, but she had to smile. Having adventures did seem more like Sweetie Belle than sitting around doing nothing. It seemed like every time she had seen Sweetie Belle, Sweetie Belle and her friends were up to something. Usually with disastrous results.
        “I never got it,” Silver said. “I mean, you three and your adventures. Diamond Tiara and I just watched movies, or...” Or made fun of Sweetie Belle and her friends. Or other ponies. Silver coughed. “Well, anyways,” she said. “The Clubhouse Crusaders sound better to me.”
        “Do you watch a lot of movies?” Sweetie Belle asked.
        “I guess?” Silver said. “Daddy has a huge collection. We watched a bunch, but a lot of them were weird or boring. Why, you want to watch something?” She turned down a hallway, changing her direction towards the movie room.
        “We could watch something while we work on the net!” Sweetie Belle suggested. “What kind of movies does your dad have?”
        “Uh... lots of old stuff, I guess,” Silver replied. “He's got some cartoon movies... comedies, romantic movies... he has a bunch of old stuff with weird titles, too. A bunch of movies about a Thin Stallion, A Flight at the Opera, Some Like It Trot...”
        “Ooh!” Sweetie Belle said suddenly, grabbing Silver Spoon's shoulders. “Silver, I have a great idea!”
        “Guh!” Silver Spoon said, jerking away from Sweetie Belle. It took her a moment to regain her balance with the heavy box in her hooves. “What? What idea?”
        “A Flight at the Opera!” Sweetie Belle said, grinning from ear to ear. “I've seen it before. It's made by the Marks Brothers, they're a vaudeville group! You know what vaudeville is, right?”
        Silver Spoon cocked an eyebrow at Sweetie. “...No?” she said.
        “It's theater!” Sweetie Belle said.
        “Ugh—” Silver said before Sweetie cut her off.
        “It's really different from plays and musicals, though,” Sweetie Belle assured her. “It's not serious at all, and everypony in it acts like real ponies, 'cause they are—everything in the Marks Brothers’ movies is something they just made up, either in the scene or before! Nopony had to write any of it. Have you ever seen a Marks Brothers movie before?”
        Silver Spoon frowned deeper. “No,” she said. “I told you, I really don't like theater.”
        Sweetie Belle only grinned wider. “This isn't like normal theater!” she said. “I'll bet all you need to do is see something a bit different!”
        Sweetie Belle bounded ahead, forcing Silver to pick up her pace. Silver pulled her lips back over her teeth, but it wasn’t worth starting a fight in the midst of their truce. It wasn’t like she had any better ideas anyways. “Well... I guess if you want to watch it,” she said as they turned into the theater room, her voice flat and dry. 
Long ago, when the manor had first been built, this had been a sitting room. Silver Spoon had never been fully certain what that meant, but in the case of the theater room it meant a wide-open room with thick carpeting and gilded sconces. The torches had long-since been replaced with modern lighting and heavy shades, however.
A large sofa sat in the middle of the room, easily large enough to seat an entire family and then some. The wall behind the sofa was barren. Beside the sofa, however, were several large shelves filled to the brim with VHS tapes. Silver had always wondered if her father could have possibly watched all of them. On the final wall, in front of the sofa, was an enormous television set that stretched to nearly all four corners. Silver Spoon shifted the box off onto the sofa with a grunt. Meanwhile, Sweetie Belle raced to the shelves and began searching through them.
        Silver Spoon settled into the couch while Sweetie Belle searched for the movie. She tried to think distasteful thoughts of Sweetie, but when nothing came to her she eventually resorted to grumbling internally. Her mood became a dark cloud, roiling without a form and looking for something to lash out at. She managed to restrain herself, however, as Sweetie Belle put in the movie and bounced down next to her on the couch.
        “This is great!” Sweetie Belle said. “I'll bet this'll change your mind for sure on theater!”
        “Sure,” Silver Spoon said, rolling her eyes. “That'll happen.”
        Sweetie Belle sagged a bit and frowned. “Aren't you at least going to give it a shot?” she asked.
        Silver Spoon sighed and folded her forelegs across her chest. “Why?” she asked. “I've been giving theater a chance for years—I haven't had a choice in the matter! I already know I don't like it, I don't see why that would be any different just because it's a different kind of theater. Why do you care so much, anyways? You do know it's not normal for fillies to be into theater, right? It's weird.”
        “I don't care if it's weird,” Sweetie Belle said. “I like theater! I think it's great. And so do your parents! You said they take you to plays and shows all the time.”
        “Yeah, well, they're not the ones who have to deal with Phantoms, are they?” Silver Spoon demanded, throwing up her hooves.
        Her words hung in the air for a moment. They room was silent, save for the whizzing of the tape, as both fillies took in what had been said.
        “Phantom...s?” Sweetie Belle asked.
        Silver Spoon grabbed a hoofful of nuts from the box at her hooves. “We should get started on the net,” she said. She would never admit it, but now that she had mentioned phantoms out loud the iron felt good against her hoof. The idea of having something to stave off creepy, stalking spirits was comforting.
        “Is there more than one Phantom?” Sweetie Belle asked. “Do you know something?”
        “No,” Silver lied, furrowing her brow and unwinding a length of twine. She tried to focus on starting the net, but Sweetie was unwilling to let it go this time.
        “Silver, if you know something about the Phantom I don't, I have to know!” Sweetie said. “This is way too important to play games! Kelson said something about you and Phantoms, do you—”
        “Kelson was just teasing me!” Silver Spoon snapped. She snorted in exasperation and said, “It's not like he's going to snatch us away to some weird... creepy love pit or something.” She immediately regretted her words.
        Sweetie Belle paused, tilting her head in confusion for a moment. “Like the Phantom of the Opera?” she asked. “What does that have to do with this?”
        “It's not—” Silver said, wincing. She squeezed her eyes shut and wracked her mind for some way to backpedal. “Nothing. It's not important. I said I didn't want to talk about it, okay?” She waved her hooves vaguely, struggling to end the conversation before it began. “I mean, it's not even the same Phantom. The Phantom of the Opera was some weird... stalker guy who didn't understand no—and not a real pony—and this guy is just some weirdo with a lighter! He hasn't got... nooses, or a boat, or any weird cave under the theater... he lives in the plumbing. It's completely different...” she groaned, thumping her head against the back of the couch. Why did Sweetie have to make it so hard to lie to her? Out of the corner of her eye she could see Sweetie Belle taking it all in. Here it came...
        “Is that why you don't like theater?” Sweetie asked.
        Silver Spoon didn't answer. Instead she just sighed and lay motionless on the couch.
        “You're afraid of the Phantom of the Opera, aren't you?” Sweetie Belle asked.
        Silver groaned. Her insides churned. She wanted to deny it, or to change the subject, but she knew what she was backed into a corner. Or down a hole she had dug. “I'm not... yeah, kinda,” she said. “I'm not afraid of the play. I can watch it just fine, and not be scared, but...” she rubbed her forelegs. It had been a long, long time since she had told anypony this, and she wasn't really sure how to say it. “Look... you can't laugh, okay?” she said, jabbing a hoof at Sweetie Belle. “I'll tell you, but... please don't laugh at me. I don't need somepony to tell me it's dumb.”
        “I promise,” Sweetie Belle said. There was no hesitation. Silver Spoon stared hard at her and was surprised to find that, more than no hesitation, Sweetie Belle looked completely genuine. Her face was open and honest, with a small crease of concern along her brow. Not pity, or amusement. Just simple concern. Looking at that face, Silver felt the words come to her easier.
        She breathed deep, and started to tell her story. “When I was a little filly, I was taking acting classes,” she said. “Mom and Daddy started taking me to plays and stuff when I was really young, so it felt natural. I mean, what little filly doesn't want to be an actress when she grows up? And I was really good at it. The teachers said I was the best in my class. So good, they asked me to take part in a show with some of the bigger foals.” She breathed deep, and rolled the iron nuts in her hoof.
        “It was Phantom of the Opera. They wanted me to play Christine. Can you imagine? Just a little filly, playing the lead role. I was so excited. I was doing great in the rehearsals, I liked all the other foals, I got along great with the colts who played Raoul and The Phantom... everything was going great. Then we went to actually put on the play, and...
        “And I just freaked out. We were on stage, and I saw the crowd for the first time, and I couldn't do it. I started thinking about what if The Phantom was real, what if he was actually coming to steal me away to be his angel in some cave somewhere? I hated it. I was so scared. I couldn't say my lines at all. And worst of all, everypony was watching me.”
        Silver Spoon sighed weakly and rolled away from Sweetie Belle. “I ruined the show. They got the understudy to do the rest... I stayed in the class for a while, and tried to do a few other shows, but it was always the same thing. I thought of everypony looking at me, and started thinking about... some creep becoming obsessed with me and stealing me away. Every time I went on stage I just got scared, so eventually I stopped.” She snorted at herself. “Sometimes I think being afraid of the Phantom was just an excuse to not go on stage... but that doesn't make me not afraid of him.”
        The pair were quiet for a while. There was no sound at all, save for the rhythmic pounding of the rain outside and the gentle drone of the movie ads. Somewhere in the distance, thunder rolled. Sweetie Belle giggled.
        Silver sighed and rolled her eyes. “Thanks,” she said.
        Sweetie Belle giggled again, and waved her hooves. “I'm sorry!” she said. “I'm not laughing at you, I promise.”
        “Well you're sure not laughing with me,” Silver Spoon grumbled, folding her forelegs across her chest.
        “I know,” Sweetie Belle said. “I'm sorry. It's just...” She looked down at the couch for a moment and said, “I never knew you were so brave.”
        Silver Spoon peered back at Sweetie Belle and scowled. She was almost certain Sweetie was making fun of her, but there wasn't a single hint of mockery on the filly's face. “Brave?” Silver Spoon demanded. “How can I be brave? I'm afraid of something that literally doesn't exist! I can hardly go into a theater without getting antsy, much less go on stage and perform.”
        “That's why it's brave, though,” Sweetie Belle said. She put her hoof on Silver's shoulder gently. “You're scared every time you go into a theater—no wonder you hate it so much! But how many times have you been in theaters since then? If your parents were willing to buy a theater, it must be tons!”
        “Hundreds,” Silver Spoon said. Amazingly, Sweetie was not making her feel any better. “And I'm still afraid.”
        “But you still go,” Sweetie pointed out. “Even though you're scared, you keep on going to plays with your parents, and you keep on going to the theater with them—would they make you? I mean, you've got a huge house here, if you really wanted I bet you could just stay home. And not only that, but you went into the back rooms!”
        Silver turned back to Sweetie, jolting a bit when she realized how close she was to the other filly. Sweetie's face was only a few inches from her own. Silver lifted her hooves for a moment, but Sweetie took hold of them and continued.
        “Those rooms were scary to me,” Sweetie said. “I can't even imagine for you... but then the Phantom showed up, and I was so scared I could hardly think, and you got me out of there! You're incredibly brave!”
        Silver Spoon felt her face flushing. She fidgeted and looked away. “That's... that's not brave,” she said. “We had to get out of there, and all... and I just go to stuff because Mom and Daddy like it... it doesn't make me not scared...”
        “I know,” Sweetie Belle said. She took hold of Silver's hoof, touching the bolts in it. “And... I'm afraid of The Phantom. This Phantom, in Bitmore. I'm really scared... I think more scared than I've ever been. And I've done a lot of scary things...” she giggled a bit and added, “Mostly stupid things. This is different. This is somepony who could hurt me... hurt us. Really bad. But... he could also hurt Rarity. When I thought about that, I thought of all the adventures Rarity's been on—big, real adventures with monsters and bad guys. And she told me that every adventure she went on, she was so scared, but she did it anyways, because she had to. I don't think being brave is about not being scared, Silver,” Sweetie said. She squeezed Silver’s hoof tighter, and Silver thought she noticed a hint of flush in Sweetie’s cheeks. “It sounds corny, but I think you're doing stuff because you care about your parents, even though you're scared. I think that's what brave is.”
        “You're right,” Silver Spoon said. “That does sound corny. Like something out of an after school special.” In spite of what she said, though, she couldn't help but smile. She rubbed her nose and looked down at Sweetie's hoof in hers. She squeezed it a bit tighter. “You and your friends were always kinda hokey, but... well, thanks. I... kinda feel a bit better.”
        Sweetie Belle smirked—surprising, from her—and opened her mouth to reply. She was interrupted by a knock at the door.
        “Beggin’ your pardon, Wee Miss,” Kelson said as he stepped into the room. He had a tray on each of his wings. “Dinner is ready. Thought y’might like to eat while you play.”
        Silver Spoon rubbed her face and smiled at him. “Thanks, Kelson,” she said. She took the tray that was handed to her and took the lid off, breathing deeply. It was potato soup, thick and rich. Perfect for a rainy night.
        “It smells delicious!” Sweetie Belle said. “Thanks, Kelson!”
        Kelson laughed. “Well, I’ll pass the compliment along to the cook,” he said. He paused for a moment and looked down at the box on the floor. He smirked. “I think the stallion only had a few bolts,” he commented.
        Silver adjusted her glasses and gave a small grin. “Uh… yeah,” she said. She giggled. “Better safe than sorry?”
        Kelson grinned and patted her mane. “Aye, well, true enough,” he said. “Can’t fault your spirit. Glad to see you feeling a bit better.” His eyes flicked to Sweetie, and Silver thought he smiled just a bit wider. “Amazing what good company does, aye?” He chuckled before Silver could answer, and said, “Well, I’ll leave you lasses to it. Cheers!”
        When Kelson departed, Silver and Sweetie Belle were silent. The only sound was the opening credits of the film. After a moment Sweetie Belle broke the silence with a giggle, which evolved into a laugh.
        “We don't have to watch this,” Sweetie said.
        “That's okay,” Silver said. “You wanted to see it. And... well, I think I want to give it a shot at least.”
        Sweetie Belle grinned, and the two settled back into the couch, blowing on their soup to cool it.
Silver thought about Sweetie for a long time. Not in the usual way she thought about Sweetie Belle, where she wondered what was going on in the filly's head, or thought about how dumb or naive whatever she was doing at the time was. She didn't wonder how Sweetie Belle had managed to make it this far without losing that strange, aggressive innocence. Instead she thought about all the things Sweetie Belle didn't do. More precisely, she thought about how Sweetie Belle hadn't made fun of her.
        Why hadn't Sweetie Belle laughed at Silver? Sweetie had every right to. Silver had never exactly been nice to Sweetie; it was only fair that Sweetie get the chance to kick back, but she'd let it slip her by. Instead, she had actually comforted Silver. And complimented her!
        She couldn't have secretly liked Silver; Sweetie had been just as disgusted at the idea of spending time with Silver as Silver had been yesterday. Yet not only had she stuck with her suggestion of calling a truce, but she had gone the extra mile to try and make peace.
        Silver Spoon curled her haunches up against her chest as the credits finished and the movie began. Sweetie Belle was grinning like a maniac. She was every bit as happy and nice as she seemed, Silver realized. It seemed almost strange that it took her so long to realize. Maybe she'd been spending too much time with Diamond Tiara, and Silver was getting too used to acting nice instead of actually being nice. Maybe Sweetie Belle wasn't actually the dork Silver had thought.
        “This is gonna be great!” Sweetie Belle said, leaning in to Silver. “You'll love this movie!”
        Silver smirked. No, Sweetie Belle was definitely the dork she had thought. Maybe that wasn't actually a bad thing, though. She was a dork, but she was a nice dork. A dork who was sweet and supportive, and listened to what Silver had to say.
        A dork with some good ideas, as well. The movie was hilarious. Silver Spoon laughed so often and so loudly that her ribs hurt. The two fillies laughed until they cried while they worked on the net, falling all over each other and winding up snuggled into the couch, shoulder pressed against shoulder. Silver Spoon had an enormous grin plastered across her face, and she wasn't quite sure if it was because of the movie, or because of Sweetie's warmth.
        No cartoons without Sweetie, no movies without Sweetie, and no friends except Sweetie for the next three days. Somehow, to Silver, that didn't seem so bad anymore.