• Published 29th Mar 2012
  • 6,777 Views, 407 Comments

Sideboard of Harmony - FanOfMostEverything



Because ponies and card games are too much fun to confine to a single story.

  • ...
9
 407
 6,777

Haec Stupri Cucurbita

Mmm, crystallized sugar. My one weakness. Where were we? Right, Lyra's hand spell had just exploded.

One thing the action movies never mention is the awkward pause after an explosion as you wait for the smoke to clear. Most ponies use the time to prepare spells, plan out the next few seconds, make sure their insides still are, that sort of thing. In my case, having been at ground zero of the blast, I was too disoriented to do much beyond wait.

The dust settled and my vision cleared, revealing a wrecked study, a still dazed unicorn, and a gaping earth pony in the doorway.

I offered a shaky smile and a woozy "Hello, Miss Dulcinea."

"What happened in here?" Bonbon cried. "It looks like a bomb went off! It sounded like a bomb went off!"

I shook my head, trying to gather my thoughts. I didn't think I had a concussion... "Well, essentially, a bomb went off."

"Are you alright?"

"I'm fi—" I cut myself off once I realized the question had come from the other end of the room. Bonbon was crouching at Lyra's side, looking for injuries.

"Slight magical accident, Bonnie," the green mare murmured.

"Slight? They heard it in Canterlot!"

Lyra chuckled. "All of our limbs are still attached, we're both the same shape as we started, and nothing's been sent to or from a parallel universe. By unicorn standards, this was a hiccup."

Bonbon sighed. It was a well-practiced sigh, rich with weariness and tempered with love. "You're okay, then?"

"A-okay." Lyra stood, stumbling for a moment before finding her balance. "A little shaken up, but okay."

The earth mare took a deep breath, letting her nervous tension flow out with the air. "Good." She turned and walked towards me, a far less serene expression on her face. Uh oh.

"Miss Dulcinea, I—"

"Can it. I want you out of this house. Now. You can forget about that order of yours, too. I'll refund you; I don't even want your money around here."

Lyra put a foreleg over her fillyfriend's withers. "Bonnie! It's okay, it was an accident! And for that matter, it was my fault!"

"No, no, I understand." I turned and headed for the door, head low, tail limp. "It's perfectly alright. I'll... I'll just show myself out." I may have limped a little.

Three, two, one. "Wait." Hooves approached from behind me. "I apologize. It was a knee-jerk reaction. You can stay." Bonbon went around me, faced me, and smiled. "I'll have your order waiting for you when you're ready to go."

I returned the smile, no need for acting. "Thank you, Miss."

"Thank you for understanding."

As Bonbon made her way back to the shopfront, the door closed itself, enclosed in a golden aura. "So," Lyra began, "this sort of thing going to happen every time we meet up?"

I turned around. There was no real way to tell a mental switch had been flipped in the mare. Maybe her stance had shifted incrementally, maybe her smile was a few microns wider. Still, it was as obvious as the horn on her forehead. "Agent Heartstrings, I presume."

That got a snicker. "You presume correctly. Sorry about the rude welcome, forgot to secure the handbook here." She flicked her horn in the direction of the Liber Digitalis Ambulatorum.

I shrugged. "It happens."

"Doesn't mean it should," Lyra grumbled.

"What was that about something happening every time we meet?"

She gave a half-lidded smile. "Oh, you'll find out."

I swallowed against the growing lump in my throat. "W-well, I suppose I'll just have to wait until the time comes. Even though it's already come and gone for you. Yeah."

"You're rambling, Pumpkin." Going by her amused, indulgent grin, Lyra didn't mind much.

I cleared my throat. "So I am. Um, just wanted to touch base, get past those awkward first meeting moments before the actual first meeting. From your perspective, anyway."

"As you told me then."

"Oh. Okay, then." I pawed at the floorboards for a moment. "Um, would you like help cleaning up?"

She waved off the offer. "Nah, my fault, my problem. You go do your thing. Who've you got left?"

"The Time Division agents and Ditzy Doo."

Lyra gathered a broom and dustpan in her magic. "If you want my advice, get the time ponies out of the way. What you're doing isn't against the rules, but they're still not going to like it."

"I cede to your better understanding of the agents in question."

"Good." She opened a compartment hidden in one of her desk's legs, extracted a scroll tied with a ribbon the same color as her coat, and passed it to me. "When you're through there, give that to Ditzy, since you'll be there for your meet-and-greet and I have a room to reassemble. Howsabout we do this again in, oh, negative two weeks?"

I laughed. "Sounds good. See you then!"


Turner's Dentistry and Horology was one of those oddly eternal fixtures of Ponyville, unchanging, unnoticed, and taken for granted. It looked much like it would in several years: a two-story cottage typical of Ponyville, its blue paint and hourglass-and-toothbrush sign the only noticeable differences.

Well, there was the whole "bigger on the inside" thing, but the Turners were careful not to flaunt that in public areas of the house.

I opened the door to the clock shop on the first floor, a curious sound like a saw struggling through a gnarled stump announcing my entrance. Timepieces of all descriptions filled the show floor: ornate cuckoo clocks, watches for fetlocks and pockets, digital models with the latest light-evoking dwoemers, even a hoof-carved sundial with a beautiful filigree gnomon.

Still, missing from this temporal tableau were a pair of a hourglasses and the earth stallion attached to them. "Hello?" I called. Not sure why. That grinding that the Doctor uses in place of a bell could practically wake the dead.

"Coming, coming!" The Doctor nearly tumbled his way down the stairs that led to Colgate's office. Words came out of his mouth with similar haste. "Miss Cake, good to see you, sorry for the delay, bit of a busy period right now; did you know the Elements of Harmony came from a tree?"

So far, this conversation was par for the course. "I thought they were the body of Faust."

"Well, yes, here they are." He began to pace around the room, occasionally inspecting a piece of merchandise. "In the baseline Equestria, though, they're basically a half-dozen berries that Celestia and Luna picked off of Equestria's world-tree, which is apparently a thing. Naturally, this has led to quite a bit of confusion throughout the timeline because the blasted thing keeps trying to come into existence and we just don't have room for it. Bit of a debacle, really, but not so bad that I need to close up shop."

"Ah. I could help, if you—"

"Thank you, but you already are." He examined a wall-mounted clock with a twelve-armed spiral galaxy pattern and a large tag reading "NOT FOR SALE." "Millennium hand's on the six, eon hand's on the four, good, good."

"I just wanted to touch base and—"

"Get a sense of me before the first impression sets in, yes, quite clever, Minnie's not going to like it, but that's never stopped me." He moved behind the checkout counter and began wiping it with a rag. Not wiping it clean, necessarily, but definitely wiping it.

I really shouldn't have been surprised. Still was, though. "How did you—"

The Doctor looked up from his dust redistribution and gave me the sort of dumbfounded look ponies reserve for questions like "Who's Celestia?" "You smell earlier," he said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

"How does that even—"

He rolled his eyes. "Time pony. Earth time pony. One of the perks."

"I... see." I didn't, but again, par for the course. "I should probably go up and meet with Agent Colgate."

He paused for a moment before lightly smacking the side of his head with a forehoof. "Right. Sorry. As I said, the timeline's a bit of a mess, so the bits of my mind that usually make sure I'm polite are more concerned with keeping us all from vanishing in a puff of logic. Makes me sneeze, you know."

I nodded. "Perfectly understandable, sir." Inasmuch as he ever was. I made for the stairs. "Good luck."

"Ha! Don't need luck when you have skill." He reflected on this. "Can't hurt though. Thank you. See you soon." He nodded to himself, apparently satisfied that the shop was in order, glanced out the windows, then...

Time travel is different for each pony tribe. Unicorns have come a long way since Star Swirl, but they still need to exert incredible effort and magic. Pegasi need speed, and lots of it. But for earth ponies with the right talent, time is just another direction. The Doctor began trotting from the front door, fading out as he went. By the time he would've reached the other end of the room, he wasn't then anymore.

I shivered. Timewalking always gave me the chills. The pony didn't become any less real, just... farther away. In a direction I can't usually feel.

Jibblies or no, I still had two mares to see while I was here and now, and one was in this house. Presumably. Well, one way to find out.

I went upstairs, helpful signs pointing the way towards Colgate Turner, MDent. The smiling cartoon molars on the signs had always truck me as odd. A tooth with teeth. Did the subteeth have faces as well? I once tried to incarnate one to check, but it just screamed from the moment it started existing.

I noted that I probably shouldn't mention that to Colgate.

The waiting area was devoid of ponies, just as I had planned. I'd asked Colgate for one of her old appointment books to find a slow day for my first visit. I suppose I could've just asked her when I visited, but Time Division agents usually don't appreciate being asked to help engender paradoxes.

In any case, I knocked on the door with her nameplate and entered after hearing a curt "Come in."

I opened the door to get a face full of irate blue unicorn. "Do you have any idea," she growled, "how much of a headache you have been giving me today?"

"...No?" I tried a cute smile. Old habits die hard.

Colgate's expression did not waver. Mine fell. "While you've been prancing about Ponyville, my horn has been registering you as a mobile discontinuity. It's been like having a migraine that decided to take a grand tour of my body."

"Oh." The smile came back, much more apologetic. "I'm almost done?"

"Yes. You are. And henceforth, you will not hop about the timeline like a hyperactive flea."

I shrank in on myself and nodded. "Yes, ma'am."

Colgate huffed out a deep breath and mellowed a bit. "I admit, I'm projecting some anger at the moment. Between Ditzy Doo and Twilight Sparkle, this is a rather frustrating section of time to manage. Throw in this Tree of Harmony nonsense, and... well, you chose a rather busy time to come say 'hello.'"

"Sorry."

She waved a forehoof dismissively. "It's been a frustrating few days is all. It really is good to see you again, Pumpkin; just make sure your third visit is mine."

I nodded. "Certainly, ma'am." I began making my way out. "See you soon."

Colgate smiled, discomfort still evident in the tightness of her features. "Yes, I have." She closed the door behind me.

I heaved a sigh of relief. Even after tilting it ninety degrees from everything, I'd been certain her dentist senses would pick up on the jawbreaker.


The Doo residence. Few indicators distinguished it from any other Ponyville home. The mailbox a bit nicer, the roof thatch a bit neater. The sense of otherworldliness radiating out from under that thatch was a bit of a tell, but only to me.

In any case, this was the last stop before I could get out of Colgate's mane. A quick hello, a delivered scroll, and everypony would be happy. I pulled the cord for the doorbell.

Hoofsteps approached, a bit lighter than I expected. Then the door opened. "Hello?"

I gawked. I couldn't help it. This mare had made sure that her presence would strike me dumb with fear, awe, and respect. She was one of but a dozen ponies who could defuse a subcritical Twilight Sparkle. Hers was the one awareness I could never elude. She taught me almost everything I know about magic, which I'm sure is a tiny fraction of everything she knows. She was Madame No, Doctor Nullhorn, the Lilac Devil.

She didn't even come up to my shoulder. It was rather disconcerting.

"Hello?" She frowned at my silence and staring.

I shook my head. Dinky was not yet the terror of young unicorns everywhere but a young unicorn herself. If I could just keep that in mind, I'd be fine.

I snapped to attention, saluted the filly, and proclaimed, "Good afternoon, Ma'am!"

Damn it.

Understandably, Dinky looked at me like I was insane. "You're weird."

I felt a blush heat my cheeks as I offered an apologetic grin. "Sorry. You look just like my old magic teacher. Just... smaller." One hundred percent true, that.

"Uh huh." Was I this suspicious at her age? "So why are you here?"

"I'm one of your mom's coworkers. I wanted to catch up with her." I gave the widest, most innocent smile I could muster.

It seemed to work, judging by how Dinky's expression went from skeptical to delighted. "You're a spy pony?"

I winked. "No."

She giggled, then turned and trotted into the house. "Mommy!" she called, "Visitor! She's not a spy pony!"

Ditzy Doo herself soon walked into view, a smile on her face. "Well, hello, Miss Not-a-Spy-Pony. Please come in."

I did. She led me to a small living room, made larger by its wide windows. "So," said the pegasus as she sat on a couch facing the view, "which one is this for you?"

On the opposite couch, I blinked, feigning confusion. "Excuse me?"

Ditzy rolled her eyes, always an impressive sight. "Don't worry about confidentiality. Address is going to be playing Postmaster Tyrant for hours yet and Dinky can keep a secret. Can't you, Muffin?"

There came a surprised squeak from the kitchen, followed by an embarrassed "Yes, Mommy."

She could, as my ninth birthday party will have attested. "My first," I admitted. "First impressions are a lot easier if you get a practice run."

Ditzy nodded. "Makes sense. It's my second time seeing you. Didn't want to build up a backlog, I take it?"

"Yeah," I answered, "especially not after Colgate tore into me. I'm surprised, though. Temporal mechanics ties the average pony's brain in knots."

"Well, I'm not the average pony," she noted. "Besides, I have experience with time magic and the merry havoc it can play with logic."

"True." I stood.

"Leaving already?"

I nodded. "Just wanted to poke my head in. Get a sense of the area and my fellow agents before introducing myself offi—" I stopped as a wonderful, wonderful smell wafted its way from the kitchen.

Ditzy grinned. "It's the first batch of the season. Had to promise half of them to Bottle Gourd."

I swallowed. Remember how I said baked goods had no hold on me? Well, there's an exception to that. "C-could I...?"

My hostess nodded magnanimously. "Certainly."

The only thing better than a successful mission with no complications is a successful mission with no complications followed by a Ditzy Doo-baked pumpkin muffin fresh out of the oven.


Wibbly-Wobbly 2U
Instant
Exile target creature you control and target creature you don't control. Return those cards to the battlefield under their owners' control at the beginning of the next end step.
Most think time is a strict progression of cause to effect. If only it were that simple."
—Minuette, temporal operative

Author's Note:

Google Translate assures me that the chapter title translates to "This Fucking Pumpkin." If you speak Latin, feel free to confirm or correct that.