The Perfect Setup

by Timaeus

2. A Teatime Chat

“And that’s everything?” Princess Twilight Sparkle asked, skimming over the forms held aloft in her magic.

Amethyst nodded, offering her a quill. “Yup. Just sign and initial where indicated and note the amount you’ll be donating, Princess Twilight,” she said, sitting behind her desk with a practiced, polite smile on her face. Around Twilight Sparkle, though, there always seemed to be little practice about it. Smiling came naturally around her, at least for this unicorn.

One didn’t get to be the Princess of Friendship without being friendly, she supposed.

“Please, just Twilight.” Twilight smiled over the forms, her purple eyes sparkling, true to her name. “You’ve known me for how long, Amethyst? Besides, everypony knows I don’t care for the formalities.”

“To be honest, I don’t really know you that well, but okay. Twilight it is. I think it’s really amazing that you’re donating so much to the town, by the way.”

“It’s not like I need it, and Ponyville’s my home.” She raised her twinkling eyes to Amethyst. “After everything this town has done for me, it’s the least I can do.” A small frown displaced her smile. “And really? I guess we are kind of strangers, by and large.” Her brow furrowed as she flipped through and signed the paperwork. As she floated them back, she said, “Well, we’ll just have to change that, won’t we? We have so much to catch up on since magic kindergarten.”

Both of Amethyst’s eyebrows shot up at that. “You remember me from back then?”

“Of course I do!” Twilight grimaced and her wings twitched at her sides. Having spent as much time around Blossomforth as she did, Amethyst recognized the nervous gesture for what it was. “I know I wasn’t the most . . . attentive filly, but I’ve recently taken a trip down memory lane and reconnected with my old friends.”

Friends? Amethyst thought back. A cream coloured unicorn with a mane of reds and purples and a pair of black-rimmed glasses came to mind. Her name was on the tip of her tongue. Moon something. Moon Prancer?

“It’s been really nice to see them again and see what kind of ponies they’ve become,” Twilight continued, her smile back on her face. Seeing it made Amethyst want to smile back. “Would you believe I had no idea Lyra lived in Ponyville until after Minuette told me? That was a fun dinner, let me tell you.”

Amethyst snickered. “I bet. Did you meet Bon Bon? Those two are connected at the hip, I swear. According to Minuette, they schedule their dentist appointments together.”

“They’re relentless.” Twilight groaned, but her smile still shone. “Anyways, I should let you get back to work,” she said, waving to the stack of files loitering in Amethyst’s inbox. “I would like to catch up sometime, though. It feels like I barely know you even though I’ve known you for most of my life. How does dinner tonight sound?”

“Dinner?” Amethyst blinked, stunned. “Tonight?”

“Sure, why not?” Twilight chirped. “We could go to Haut-Savoir, if you like Prench. Their beignets are to die for, or so Rarity tells me.”

“Uh . . .” Amethyst started, mentally going through her calendar. Realizing her mouth was hanging open, she shook her head and cleared her throat. “Yeah, okay. I don’t have any plans then, and Prench is good. Haut-Savoir is supposed to be one of the best restaurants in Ponyville. Or, um, that’s what ponies tell me.” She coughed, lighting her horn to push her saddlebags under her desk.

Twilight’s smile seemed to brighten the whole room. “Great! I’ll see you then.” She turned and trotted out of town hall, her tail swishing happily behind her.

As the door swung closed, Amethyst slumped forward, her head hitting the hardwood of her desk with a thud. Dinner with a princess was certainly one way to start off the day. Her hoof brushed the saddlebags now hidden underneath her desk and she felt her throat tighten. Detailed files on all of the eating establishments in Ponyville still stuffed the bags, each of them reminders of last night and each tugged on her heartstrings.

Haut-Savoir.

With its comforting, familial atmosphere, it was the second choice for Rainbow Dash and Applejack’s failed date. Their beignets would have appealed to both of their sweet tooths and an image of them sharing the last one came to mind. Not that it would have mattered. Neither of them would have showed up to enjoy them.

Amethyst shook herself before a disappointingly familiar weight could settle on her shoulders. “Work,” she said to herself. “Work, work, work.”

That was something she could always count on. While she may have failed at Winter Wrap-Ups, she could always pencil somepony in for a half-hour meeting with the Mayor or file Form 4-B away for approval. The excited energy that surged through her after Cranky and Matilda’s wedding had sputtered out, and Amethyst trained her focus to replace it with the familiar comfort of routine.

Organizing and attention to detail were both part of her special talent—what made Amethyst special and unique. And she was good at it. One of the best, even, as long as it didn’t involve leaving her desk.

At her desk, the town wasn't counting on her to bring spring to Ponyville by reading through and highlighting Mayor Mare’s many meeting agendas. There was no crippling pressure or sickening disappointment when it came to arranging schedules and itineraries.

Here it was safe, and here Amethyst would stay.

As she reached for the first file of what promised to be a busy morning, the door opened to a flurry of white feathers streaked with green and red. “There you are!” the feathers’ owner said, her voice shrill. “I’ve been looking for you all morning!”

The slipstream created by Blossomforth’s entrance scattered files and their contents across the room. Amethyst watched sheets of paper drift and settle on her desk, on the filing cabinets, on the office plants, and on the floor, her expression flat as her busy morning turned into a busy day.

Red filled Blossomforth’s cheeks. “Um,” she squeaked, folding her wings and rubbing one foreleg with the other. “Sorry.” She cleared her throat, but her voice stayed quiet and small. “I’m still mad at you, but sorry.”

“It’s fine, Blossom,” Amethyst said through a sigh. She made a mental note to find some painkillers for the headache she was sure to develop. Folders and homeless sheets of paper collected in the pink aura of her magic. As she piled them up on her desk, she asked, “Why are you mad at me?”

“For worrying me!” Blossomforth huffed, seeming to have found her ire once more. A slightly crumpled form was pushed out of the way as a white and delicate hoof prodded Amethyst in the chest. “What part of ‘I’ll check up on you in the morning’ didn’t you understand?”

“Oh.” Amethyst winced, shrinking under her friend’s glare. Blossomforth did say something about that last night, didn’t she? “Sorry, Blossom. I, um, forgot.”

Blossomforth snorted and crossed her forelegs. “No kidding. I tried getting you to open the door for ten minutes before I snuck in through your window! Imagine my surprise when I found nopony home. I flew all around Ponyville looking for you! I was really starting to get scared that something happened.”

“I’m sorry,” Amethyst said, ducking her head. Angry and Blossomforth usually went together about as well as oil and water. Not once since they had met had she raised her voice to her or anypony else. Not until now, that was. “I didn’t mean to worry you. I honestly forgot.”

A tense few seconds slipped by. With her ears pinned back, Amethyst felt very small under Blossomforth’s blazing blue eyes.

Finally, Blossomforth relented with a sigh. Her puffed up chest deflated with her anger and she sat on her haunches. “It’s okay, Amy. I’m just . . . concerned. You were really off last night. I’ve never seen you like that. So . . . defeated.”

Amethyst’s eyes dropped to her desk as her stomach churned. Skipping breakfast may not have been such a bad idea. “Yeah,” she said, her tongue feeling heavy and awkward. “I don’t know. I just felt like I needed to get out of my head. Sitting around home, thinking, going over everything that happened and how I messed up—”

“You didn’t mess up, Amy,” Blossomforth said, emphasizing her words with a snap of her tail. “Applejack and Rainbow didn’t show up. That’s not on you.”

Ah, that’s right, Amethyst thought. “Right. Of course,” she mumbled. Taking a breath, she pushed forward. “A-anyways, sitting at home wasn’t helping. I needed to go somewhere I knew I could do things right. So, here I am. Ta-da.” She spread her hooves wide around her, leading Blossomforth’s eyes around the sparsely decorated office. The potted plants by the window provided colour to the otherwise brown space.

Blossomforth nodded slowly, a frown creasing her lips. “But are you okay?”

“Me?” Amethyst scoffed, giving what she knew was a brittle smile. It was so much easier to lie to a princess than it was to a friend. “I’ll be fine, Blossom. Give me a couple days, and I’ll be right as rain.”

Judging from the frown on her friend’s face, her reassurances were about as convincing as she suspected.

“Blossom, listen . . . Honestly? I’m not fine.” Amethyst exhaled. Her shoulders sagged as she slumped on to her desk. “I thought maybe I broke whatever curse was on me after the wedding, and I was so desperate to prove that to myself that I wasted both of our time on some dumb matchmaking charade.”

“Amy . . .”

“I need to move on, right? Get back to what I’m good at.” Amethyst sucked in a breath through her teeth. The monotonous pile of paperwork to review, reorder, and file away stood resolute. “Actually, while you’re here, could you do me a favour?”

Concern shone in Blossomforth’s eyes, but she nodded. “Anything.”

Amethyst’s saddlebags hovered out from beneath her desk, encircled in the pink of her magic. She dropped the bags at Blossomforth’s hooves. The mare in question nosed open one of the flaps and gasped. She pulled out a blue file with a large ‘3’ written on the front. Sugarcube Corner’s file.

“Amethyst,” Blossomforth said, her tone carefully neutral. “What are these?”

“The same files I showed you last night on all of the restaurants in Ponyville,” Amethyst explained. Sugarcube Corner would have made for a fine first date, now that she thought about it. It was friendly and familiar to most ponies in town, especially to Rainbow and Applejack. Their desserts were the best in town, and their milkshakes were nothing short of legendary. However, it bordered on being too much of a ‘friend place’ for what Amethyst had had in mind. Had being the operative word.

Blossomforth slid the file back in the saddlebag with a frown. “What did you want me to do with them?”

Was The Silver Saddle even the best choice? Maybe something more familiar like Sugarcube Corner should have been the way to go. Squeezing her eyes shut, Amethyst dragged herself back to the present. There was no point in dwelling on the past. “Could you get rid of them for me, please?”

Blossomforth blinked, looking from her to the saddlebags. “What? Why?”

Amethyst shifted her weight and sucked in her lips. “I don’t need them anymore. The date failed, didn’t it? Don’t need those files cluttering up my house.” She forced a chuckle and scratched the back of her head. “I have little enough space as it is.”

“Just like that?” Shaking her head, Blossomforth pushed the saddlebags back towards her. “Amy, you can’t give up like this. We don’t even know why they didn’t show up! Anything could have happened.”

Amethyst flinched and ducked her head, her ears pressed flat against her scalp. Tell her. “Um,” she said, mouth opening and closing as she fought for the words to come out. “That . . . may not be true.”

Something between curiosity and worry crossed over Blossomforth’s face. “What do you mean?”

“Check the other side,” Amethyst mumbled. “Tucked away in the front pouch.”

Blossomforth raised an eyebrow but did as instructed. A cold feeling balled up in the pit of Amethyst’s stomach as she pulled out two envelopes from the saddlebags—one addressed to Rainbow Dash and the other to Applejack. She looked away as Rainbow’s was carefully opened.

“These are in your horn-writing,” Blossomforth said, bafflement colouring her words. Paper rustled as she opened the second letter. “Amethyst, what are these? Invitations?”

Chewing her lip, Amethyst nodded, studying the grains of wood in the floorboards as she did so. “For the dinner last night.”

“The ones that Rainbow and Applejack were supposed to get? Why do you have them?”

“That’s the problem.” Amethyst rubbed her foreleg and exhaled. “I’m not supposed to have them. They were supposed to be delivered two days ago.” The words came tumbling past her lips and her tail curled around her flanks. “That’s why they didn’t come—they didn’t know they were supposed to! I forgot the most important part of the plan! I went by the post office and everything, but I still forgot when Muffins asked for help with a package from Saddle Arabia!” She threw her forelegs and face to her desk and groaned. It came out more like a whine or a whimper. “I messed up so badly, Blossom.”

A hoof fell on her shoulder and gave a gentle squeeze. She lifted her head enough to meet Blossomforth’s eyes. “Ponies make mistakes, Amy. If this is the only thing that went wrong, then there’s no way you can miss next time.”

Amethyst blinked and looked at her friend as if wings sprouted out of her head. “There isn’t going to be a next time.”

Blossomforth blinked and looked at her much the same way. “What do you mean?”

“Just . . . that, I guess. I’m done, Blossom. I stuck my nose where it didn’t belong and got smacked for it.”

“Yes, but—” A scowl pulled at Blossomforth’s face as she looked from the letters in her hooves to Amethyst. “—you’re giving up? After all the work you put into this, you’re going to, what, move on? Pretend it didn’t happen?”

Amethyst twiddled her hooves. “Preferably? You said it, Blossom, it was a dumb idea in the first place.”

“I never said that!”

“Well you all but did, then! From the park to the restaurant, you were looking at me like I was crazy!” Rubbing her head between her hooves, Amethyst fought to put a lid on a bubbling pot of emotions. Disappointment, sour tasting in the back of her throat, welled up as the feeling of failure creeped up her spine and gnawed at her thoughts. “And maybe I was. Can’t we just forget this ever happened?”

“But why? Amy, I don’t understand.” Blossomforth’s eyes searched her, filled with the worry that only a best friend could have. “What happened to you? Where’s the Amethyst who dragged me halfway across town from work to dinner?” She pressed closer, leaning over the desk to fill Amethyst’s vision. “What about Rainbow and Applejack?”

“They’ll have to figure something out themselves,” Amethyst said, breaking away and scooching back. “And . . . I don’t know what else to say, Blossom. That Amethyst woke up and saw what she was doing last night. She’s ready to get back to reality now where she sits behind her desk and does the Mayor’s paperwork and balances her schedule. Please?”

“But, Amy—”

“Please, Blossom, just let me let it go.” She heard the desperation in her own voice and sniffed. “I can’t. First, Winter Wrap-Up, then Nightmare Night, then the next Winter Wrap-Up and now this. This right here is what I’m good at. This is where I’m meant to be.”

The pink glow of her magic wrapped around her saddlebags and gently draped them over Blossomforth’s back. “Can you please just get rid of these? The sooner they’re gone, the sooner I can get back to normal.”

Blossomforth opened her mouth, looking ready to argue the point. Then, her ears folded back and she shook her head. Tightening the bags’ straps around her barrel, she said, “Okay, I’ll take care of it.”

Hearing the dejection in the weather mare’s voice knocked Amethyst’s spirits even lower. Failure to organize events, and now failure to be a good friend. “I’ll see you after work?” she tried.

“Yeah, sure.” Her wings drooping low to the floor and her ears folded back, Blossomforth turned to leave. When she reached the door, she stopped. “Amethyst?”

Amethyst looked up from the first of many forms to fill out, copy, and file away in records. “Yes, Blossom?”

With Blossomforth’s back to her, she couldn’t read her face. The pegasus’ wings, however, rustled and her ears perked up. “I’m not giving up, even if you are,” she said. She turned her head and smiled. “You don’t belong behind that desk for the rest of your life and I’ll find some way to help you see that.”

Before she could retort, Blossomforth took off, spreading her wings and taking to the sky and leaving Amethyst alone in office. The silence that followed her was almost deafening.

With a sigh, Amethyst picked up her quill, dipped it in ink, and brought it down to the first form in her pile.

---

After an hour of routine and monotonous form-filling, Amethyst needed to take a break. Though she tried to marshal her thoughts and though she sat at her desk, quill at the ready, she found herself unable to focus. After a third failed attempt at reading the form in front of her, she dropped her quill and massaged her temples.

Her eyes flitted over to her inbox and she frowned. There was hardly a noticeable dent in the pile. At the rate she was going, she would have to work through lunch.

Her stomach growled loudly in protest.

“I don’t belong behind this desk,” she mumbled. Blossomforth’s parting words left a glimmer of something lighter in her heart, a welcome change from the way her stomach seemed to churn and wriggle. Letting go sounded like a good idea at the time, and disposing of all of her research seemed like the first step. Maybe then the voices whispering words of failure that nagged at her mind and kept her up all night would quiet.

But part of her wanted to believe Blossomforth, to believe that she was meant for more than being a small town secretary.

The door to the office behind her opened and shut with a click. Amethyst straightened and picked up her quill again as hoofsteps neared her, trying her best to look busy. The hooves stopped just behind her, and she pretended to be pouring over the document before her. She even dipped her quill in her inkwell, making ready to sign here and initial there.

“Amethyst,” Mayor Mare said in a pleasant tone.

“Yes, Miss Mayor?”

“Your quill is upside down.”

Blinking, Amethyst looked to find that she had dunked the wrong end of her quill in the ink. She grimaced and righted her quill, the tips of her ears burning. “O-oh, um. I can explain?”

She felt her boss’ eyes on the back of her neck, most likely peering over half-moon glasses. The sensation made her shiver. It wasn’t that she was scared of the Mayor—she was, by all accounts, one of the kindest and most dedicated ponies in Ponyville. More than once, however, had Amethyst been regarded with a sad frown and shake of her head. It reminded her of a parent disappointed in their child and made her feel petulant and foalish.

Sighing, Amethyst bowed her head. “Sorry, Miss Mayor. I was taking a little break.”

“It does look like you have your hooves full out here.” Mayor Mare trotted around her desk. She smiled through the bags under her eyes, but then again, the Mayor always had bags under her eyes. It never stopped them from twinkling with joy or brimming with pride, though. Humming to herself, she flipped through the next few files and loose forms in the inbox. “Quite full. I don’t blame you for needing to rest your eyes for a few minutes, so no apology is necessary.”

Amethyst swallowed a sigh of relief and felt some tension leave her shoulders.

“Did you need any help? It sounds like you’ve had a busy morning.”

“I can manage.” A fresh quill floated out of a desk drawer as Amethyst put on a smile for the Mayor. “I’ll have this all done by the end of the day, no problem.”

“Are you sure? I can take some of these off your plate for you.”

“I’m sure! What’s the point of hiring me if I can’t do my job, right? No, no, I got this. I’ll see you around noon with your lunch.” Amethyst brought her quill down to the form and scratched out the date and her signature. As she reached for her stamp, she still felt eyes boring into her. Looking up, she found the Mayor had not moved. “Miss Mayor?”

Deep blue eyes regarded her over a small frown. “Amethyst,” she said, letting the name roll off her tongue slowly, “are you sure everything’s fine?”

“Um.” Amethyst's magic wavered. “Yes?”

The Mayor’s eyebrow twitched, but otherwise her face remained impassive. “What about with your friend?”

“You heard that?”

“I heard raised voices,” she said. “Your friend sounded worried, and you sounded upset.”

Amethyst winced. For the second time that morning, she ducked her head, cowed by the pony standing across from her desk and unable to meet their eyes. Why couldn’t ponies just let her be? “Don’t worry about it. It was over some goofy little thing.” Her ears faltered and folded. “Yeah, some dumb thing I got into. No big deal.”

The Mayor’s eyebrow definitely moved this time in an upward arching direction. “The way you two were talking, it doesn’t sound like something so trivial.”

“Blossomforth was overreacting,” Amethyst said more to her desk than to the Mayor. “She does that sometimes. She’s a big ol’ worrywart. If she didn’t have a flower for a cutie mark, I’d swear her special talent would be finicking and fretting!” An awkward chuckle tumbled out and a false smile followed.

Mayor Mare studied Amethyst for several long, tedious seconds. The corner of Amethyst’s mouth twinged, but she persevered. Finally, the Mayor nodded. “Very well.”

Exhaling, Amethyst let the smile drop to something smaller and more polite. As she brought her quill back to the page, the Mayor cleared her throat. She was never going to finish at this rate. “Yes, Miss Mayor?”

“Who am I scheduled to have tea with today?”

Amethyst blinked and her eyes flitted to the Mayor’s dayplanner, which Amethyst kept open and within easy reach at all times. Usually, most blocks of time were filled, but her eleven o’clock tea appointment was scratched out. “Nopony. Miss Cheerilee came in the other day saying she had to cancel because a couple of her students needed some extra tutoring.”

That seemed to satisfy the Mayor as she smiled and nodded. The smile, however, seemed to have a more mischievous look to it than normal. “Excellent. That saves me the trouble of cancelling, though I’m sure Cheerilee would have understood. I’ll catch up with her some other time.”

Amethyst tilted her head to the side. “Mayor?”

“Put that quill down, Amethyst, and would you kindly put up the back in thirty minutes sign?” With a look in her eye Amethyst had seldom seen before, Mayor Mare walked around the desk and back to her office. “I’ll be taking my tea with you today.”

Amethyst sputtered, her magic cutting out entirely. “What? But what about the front desk?”

“That’s why I asked you to put up the away sign,” Mayor Mare said with a casual wave of her hoof. She lingered at the door to her office and scratched her chin. “Maybe we could try one of those teas that Tree Hugger mare sold us. I remember her mentioning raspberries.”

“Raspberry balsamico herbal tea,” Amethyst recited. Inventory was one of her many duties, and too often did she need to double check the names of the tea blends in the office pantry. When something like dragonfruit devotion herbal tea came up in her bi-monthly review, a scratch on the head and a poke into the pantry were required.

“Ah, yes, that’s the one. Let’s try that, shall we? The way that mare was talking about it, it cures arthritis and removes wrinkles.” Hiding a giggle behind a hoof, the Mayor opened her office door and slipped inside. “I’ll just be in here. Bring the tea in with you when it’s ready!”

Amethyst stared after her, mind reeling. The Mayor never had tea with her and never so flippantly talked about cancelling an appointment.

The office door cracked open and the Mayor stuck her head back out. “Oh, and no milk or sugar. Tree Hugger insisted that we try it ‘in its natural splendour.’”

The door shut, leaving Amethyst alone and mystified. After a few seconds of processing, she rose to her hooves and made her way into the little kitchen in the back of town hall, putting up the away sign as she left her desk. Much like the rest of the building, the kitchen was bare, save for a few appliances, a vase of flowers, and curtains over the windows.

“It’s just tea, Amethyst,” she said aloud as she busied herself with putting the kettle on to boil. “What could she possibly have to talk to you about? Nothing! That’s what. It’s nothing.” Wrapped in the light pink aura of her magic, a small tin floated out of one of the cupboards. The smell of raspberries and a dozen herbs that she couldn’t name wafted out of the tin as she filled a strainer with a mix of dried berries and herbs.

A minute or two later, the sharp whistling of the kettle pierced the air. Sucking her lip between her teeth, she poured the scalding water into a teapot with the tea blend. Then, with her tail twitching and flicking around her flanks, she set the pot and two cups on a tray held aloft in her magic and padded away to the Mayor’s office.

Amethyst knocked three times and let herself in. Unlike most of town hall, the Mayor’s office was anything but sparsely decorated. Bookshelves and filing cabinets lined the walls, each filled to the brim with books, reference guides, overstuffed binders, and, no surprise, more files. The window overlooking town square was open, letting in a cooling summer breeze and the sounds of Ponyville nearing midday. What little wall space not taken up by shelves and cabinets was covered by portraits—landscapes, caricatures, and self-portraits done by local artists.

Some ponies might think the office cramped, but to those that knew the Mayor, it was something special. The Mayor loved Ponyville more than anypony else, and it was that love and pride in her town Amethyst felt when she stepped on to the warm, fuzzy carpet that covered the floor.

“Miss Mayor?” she said, drawing an ear flick of acknowledgement from the mare, already absorbed in an unraveled scroll. “I brought the tea. No milk or sugar, just like you asked.”

Mayor Mare smiled over her glasses and set the roll of parchment aside. “Excellent. Come on in, Amethyst, and have a seat. Actually,” she said, standing and stretching out her neck. “This is no way to have tea. The sofa is much more comfortable than the floor.”

Amethyst nodded mutely and followed her boss to an old, plush couch she kept under the window. She fiddled with her hooves as the Mayor settled on the other side of the sofa and sighed.

“Much better, don’t you think? And it’s such a lovely day outside, too.”

Another nod as Amethyst poured the tea and offered a steaming cup to the Mayor, who accepted it with a small nod in return.

“This smells delicious. That Tree Hugger mare may be a bit odd, but she certainly knows her herbs and berries.”

Amethyst looked down at her own cup. Steam rolled off the top and she breathed it in. Some of the anxiety and strain pressing down on her mind just melted away as the herb and berry blend filled her nostrils and warmed her to the core. A small smile tugged at her lips as she softly blew off the steam and took a cautious first sip.

The Mayor did the same and they both hummed in content. “I think I’ll ask Fluttershy to recommend some more of Tree Hugger’s teas.”

Amethyst nodded and took another careful sip. “It’s really good.”

“Mmm. Now—” Setting her cup down on its saucer, Mayor Mare folded her hooves in her lap. “—what’s been bothering you?”

Amethyst’s ears folded back. “Nothing, really,” she mumbled, wincing at how pitiful her voice sounded to her. Be positive. Smiles, smiles, smiles! And so she did, stretching her mouth out wide. “It was just some silly little thing I got tangled up in, that’s all.”

“You have many talents, Amethyst Star.” The Mayor sighed and peered at her over her glasses. “Lying is not one of them. Why don’t you tell me a little about this ‘thing’ that’s making you so obviously miserable?”

Amethyst squirmed. The cushions felt a little too plush today and the longer the older mare’s gaze bored into her, the more she wanted to skitter away to her desk.

When she didn’t answer, a look of disappointment passed over Mayor Mare’s face. “I can wait for you to tell me,” she said. “It’s a big pot of tea, and I’ll keep you here all afternoon if I have to.”

“What?” Amethyst balked, eyes flying wide. Already she could hear the hooves pounding on the floorboards and the chorus of voices complaining and demanding the Mayor’s presence. Then there was her inbox, an afternoon-long chore at the very least. “B-but Mayor! Your afternoon appointments—”

“Can be rescheduled,” Mayor Mare replied in a calm, steady voice. “The mental health and wellbeing of my assistant is more important. If ponies don’t understand that, I’d be happy to talk to them about it further.”

“But—”

“No buts.” Her tone brokered no argument even as her brow knitted in what Amethyst could only read as concern. “You usually walk into work with a spring in your step and hum the most delightful tunes while at your desk. Today, if it wasn’t for Princess Twilight and your friend coming in, I wouldn’t have known if you were here.”

Amethyst curled her tail around her flank and tucked herself into the corner of the sofa. “It is a dumb thing, though. I don’t want to waste your time with my whining.”

“I may have my commitments, but my time is still mine to do with as I choose. Tell me about what has you fighting with your friend and tell me, is it dumb to you? Be honest.”

Sparing a second or two to think it over, Amethyst slowly shook her head.

The Mayor smiled. “Then it’s not dumb.” She picked up her tea. “Talk.”

“You say that now.” Groaning, Amethyst forced herself to sit up. “Okay, so you know how I was dragged in to organize Matilda’s wedding at the last possible second?” At the Mayor’s nod she continued, “Well . . . I wanted to prove to myself that that wasn’t a fluke.”

“A fluke?”

The genuine surprise in the Mayor’s voice made Amethyst start. “Erm, yeah. A one-off, a once-in-a-blue-moon kind of deal. To make sure it wasn’t, I kind of, um . . . ” She hunched her shoulders and tried to hide her warming cheeks. “I set Applejack and Rainbow Dash up on a date.”

The Mayor blinked and raised an eyebrow.

“And then I ruined it.”

The other eyebrow followed suit. “Ruined it?”

Amethyst nodded and stared at her tea cup, wishing that the Mayor could be like one of those bosses that took no interest in their employees’ lives for just one day.

Then, to her surprise, the Mayor laughed. “You must be exaggerating—I can’t imagine you ‘ruining’ anything, you young perfectionist, you!”

Amethyst stared at her. Of everything she expected, laughter was not on the list. Should she be insulted? Relieved? Both?

“I’m sorry,” the Mayor said once the last of her giggles subsided. She wiped the corner of her eye and smiled at Amethyst with pride. “It’s just that you hardly ever make mistakes. I don’t think you’ve once ‘ruined’ anything since I hired you.”

At any other mare, Amethyst would have snorted. “If you like, I can pull out the files from the last few Winter-Wrap Ups before Princess Twilight moved to Ponyville.”

“Those weren’t disasters,” the Mayor tutted. “Sure, we may have been somewhat behind schedule, but everything always got finished. Spring came, and that’s what matters.” She looked at Amethyst the way a parent might a stubborn child. “You are too hard on yourself.”

Amethyst held her stare. “I’m pretty sure that Berry Punch filing a suit for property damage qualifies as a disaster.”

The Mayor winced, but smoothed it over by sipping from her tea. “How was that your fault?” she asked. “How could a scheduling error for snow removal cause that pegasus to drop a ton of it on Miss Punch’s roof?”

“Because I forgot that Muffins has coordination problems. I shouldn’t have assigned her to that team—she should have been waking the animals with Fluttershy or making nests with Rarity.” Amethyst’s ears wilted and she curled her forelegs in underneath her. “That was all my fault. I should have just left it to you and the weather planning committee.”

“No. I wouldn’t have trusted Winter Wrap-Up to you if I didn’t think you weren’t capable of handling it,” the Mayor said, straightening as Amethyst shrunk away. “And I wouldn’t have tasked it to you the next year if I still didn’t think that.”

Amethyst fidgeted, feeling like the sofa threatened to swallow her whole as she sank further into its confines. “I still messed up, though.” Her voice was small. “Twice. That’s not even counting Nightmare Night. All of them were terrible.”

The Mayor sighed and set down her teacup. Though her gaze was intense, it held no malice or frustration. Understanding and empathy only filled those blue, glittering eyes. “Of course something is going to go wrong. Something always goes wrong.” The corner of her mouth quirked upwards. “Mur-hay’s Law, some call it.

“And yes, they may have been disasters on some level,” she said, holding up a hoof to forestall any of the rebuttals ready on the tip of Amethyst’s tongue. “But Amethyst, be reasonable. We live in Ponyville. I love this town with all of my heart, but it’s come to the point where a bug bear has become a nuisance rather than a threat. Take some perspective—what happened with Winter Wrap-Up those few years ago was no parasprite infestation or rampaging ursa minor. It wasn’t even as bad as a herd of stampeding bunnies.”

A sour taste filled Amethyst’s mouth. “They were still bad, you just admitted it. Minor disasters are still disasters.” Frowning into her tea, she voiced a question prickling at the back of her mind. “Why did you keep on giving me those projects? I never asked for them, especially after the first time.”

“I gave you them because you are one of the best I’ve ever seen at that sort of thing.”

This time, Amethyst did scoff. She hoped it wouldn’t cost her her job. “All of the evidence suggests otherwise. Really, I’d much rather just be at my desk. That’s what I’m good at.”

“You stubborn mare.” Taking off her glasses, the Mayor rubbed the bridge of her muzzle. “That’s precisely the problem.”

Amethyst’s breath caught in the back of her throat. She swallowed a lump and worked her mouth. “I—Being good at my job is a problem?”

“No, the problem is that you refuse to leave your comfort zone.” The Mayor fixed Amethyst with a flat stare. “Amethyst, you’re the best assistant I’ve ever had. You are young and smart and talented, yet here you are, content to sit at your desk all day. You could be doing so much more and be so much more.”

“You’re not all that much older than me,” Amethyst mumbled.

A smile and a snort of giggles cracked the Mayor’s composure. “Thank you, but my point stands. Every time I’ve brought you an opportunity to prove yourself, you’ve declined. So, I decided to accept for you and use my authority as mayor to make you lead for Winter Wrap-Up and our Nightmare Night festivities.”

“So far all it’s gotten me is grief and sleepless nights. Maybe I’m where I’m supposed to be.” Amethyst dropped her eyes to the faded red fabric of the sofa. A brown spot caught her eye—a coffee stain? She would have to send for the cleaners.

Again, the Mayor sighed. She rested her hoof on Amethyst’s shoulder, nearly making the younger mare flinch. “You are capable of so much more. You’re scared to put yourself out there, though, and I understand. It isn’t easy. The first few times may not have worked out for you, but that doesn’t mean they all won’t. Stand up and try again, Amethyst.”

Letting out a low whine, Amethyst’s eyes skittered around the office. Her mouth opened and closed, her throat bobbing but no sound came out. She rubbed her eyes. “But what if I fail?”

“You’ve never failed at being my assistant,” Mayor Mare said. “And what about Cranky and Matilda’s wedding? I honestly would never have guessed on how little notice it was put together if I didn’t already know what was going on.”

Amethyst’s eyes found purchase back in the Mayor’s. She searched them for any sign that her words were honeyed and sweet to console her but empty of meaning. What she found instead was an earnestness she had come to know in the mare. “You sound like Blossomforth.”

Mayor Mare tilted her head to one side. “Your friend?” When Amethyst nodded, she smiled. “Then maybe you ought to listen to her a little more. It sounds to me like she has a good head on her shoulders.”

“Yeah . . .” Amethyst thought back to earlier this morning. I’m not giving up, even if you are. Stroking one of her forelegs with the other, she stared off at nothing. “I really should.”

“I’m glad we agree on that much at least,” the Mayor said, a light, teasing quality to her voice. Wincing as she stretched her legs, she stood and ambled back around her desk. “And while this has been a good chat, we should get back to work. Tea time has passed.”

Nodding, Amethyst wordlessly slipped off the couch and on to her only slightly shaking legs. Her magic wrapped around the doorknob and she turned to go.

“Before you leave,” Mayor Mare said, a knowing smile dancing over her face. “There’s something I wanted to show you.”

Amethyst lingered in the doorway, her drooped ears perking up as the Mayor sifted through a small pile of envelopes, rolls of parchment, and twine-bound stacks of paper.

“This just came in the mail this morning. It was addressed to the both of us, and I’m afraid I forgot to mention it to you after I sat down to work. Tea has a way of revitalizing my memory, though,” the Mayor rambled on as she flipped through the mail. Finally, she stopped and pulled out a single postcard. “Ah, here we are. Take a look.”

The offered card floated over to Amethyst in the grip of her magic and her head tilted as she regarded the postage stamp. “Prance?”

“Turn it over.”

Amethyst did as instructed, eyes widening when she did so. Cranky Doodle Donkey and Matilda, photographed at a small outdoor cafe by a river, gazed lovingly into each other’s eyes, heedless of the photographer who snapped the picture on the flipside of the card. A light blush coloured Matilda’s cheeks and even Cranky, scowl lines etched forever into his face, smiled in such a way as to make him look warm and friendly. A couple meant to be, away on the perfect honeymoon.

“How do they look to you?”

“Happy,” Amethyst mumbled, levitating the card back to the Mayor. “They look really happy.”

“They do, don’t they? I think it’s safe to say that whoever took this picture captured a rare moment of happiness in anypony’s life.” Mayor Mare’s smile was warm as she set the postcard down on her desk. “Do you know why they’re so happy?”

“They’re married,” Amethyst said, smiling in return. “They spent their whole lives looking for each other, and now they have each other for the rest of their lives.”

“And do you know who is responsible for helping them achieve that happiness?”

“Huh?” Amethyst stumbled a step, caught off guard by the question. “Uh, whoever brought them together, right? So . . . Pinkie Pie?”

The Mayor tilted her head to the side and stared off at the ceiling. Scratching her chin she said, “I suppose that’s true, yes. She did reunite them.” With a chuckle she steepled her hooves and leaned forward over her desk. “Though, to be honest, I meant you.”

Another staggered a step backwards, and Amethyst found herself on her rump. “Me?”

“Yes, you. In their time of need, you stepped forward—oh, alright, you were dragged forward, don’t give me that look—and you made their wedding possible.” Mayor Mare chuckled some more, her warmth filling the office. “Without you, their wedding would have been cancelled. Thanks to you, Amethyst Star, they found their happy ever after. So don’t you even think of coming to me, pretending that you aren’t one of the best detail-oriented ponies in town.”

“Me?” Amethyst repeated in a whisper of a breath. The looks of love and happiness on Cranky and Matilda’s faces, the joy, comfort, and warmth of their eyes captured in that fleeting second. Those were possible because of her?

“That wedding was something even the likes of Pinkie Pie and Princess Twilight would be hard put to best. You should be proud, Amethyst, not skulking behind your desk where nopony will ever see you shine.”

It was only after the first giggle left her lips did she realize she was smiling a broad, toothy smile. “I shine?”

“You do, and I’m not the only pony that thinks so. Your friend seemed to think awfully high of you. Speaking of your friend, you should probably talk to her.”

Nodding fervently, Amethyst stood to her sturdy, non-shaking hooves. “I owe her an apology. She was only trying to look out for me, and I pushed her away.” With a long exhale, she faced the Mayor without the trepidation or weight that plagued her before. “I’ll find her after work.”

The Mayor hummed, perching her glasses on the end of her snout. “No, I don’t think that will do. You’d best take the rest of the day off.”

Amethyst’s ears perked, standing straight up as fresh panic flooded her face. “What?! But—”

“Rest of the day off. No buts. It sounds to me like you have a close friend to reconcile with. That’s more important than filling out my timetable for the day.”

“But my inbox—”

“Will still be here tomorrow morning. I can handle myself for one afternoon.” Mayor Mare smiled a kind smile and flicked her hoof at the door. “Now go, shoo, or else I’ll have you doing inventory of the weather team lockers!”

Bubbling laughter fought its way past Amethyst’s lips. She returned the Mayor’s smile with one of her own and rubbed her eyes. “Okay! Thank you, Miss Mayor! Just—thank you! I promise I won’t let you down!”

As Amethyst turned and cantered out of the office, she heard Mayor Mare’s laughter follow her out. A knot that had wound its way around her chest began to unwind—whether that was from the tea or from the talk she didn’t know. All she knew was that she had a friend to see.

Then maybe, just maybe, she would do something about those troublesome lovebirds.

Comments

[Timaeus]

7365769

Thank you! I need to find more time to write Rainbow Dash and Applejack. They were both fun to write for their smaller appearances in this story (with a little more to come soon~).

Though, now that I've said that, I can already feel a certain 7363902 's breath on the back of my neck. I think he's readying the whip.

[Carapace]

7365781 you fool

[Snowliasion]

Nice chapter Tim.

[Rossby Waves]

thumb9.shutterstock.com/display_pic_with_logo/1860644/328743956/stock-photo-joy-328743956.jpg

[Tchernobog]

7365781

[TwilightUCrazy]

Yes, yes! Go make up with your beeeeeest friiieeend!

[Timaeus]

7366004

Thank ye!

7366016

*high pitched screaming*

7366343

You'll never take me alive!

7366435

That's what best friends do! How many snuggly wuggly kisses will there be by the end of this, though?

We'll have to wait until tomorrow to find out

[TwilightUCrazy]

7366556

The hell with it!

POST IT NOW! ...Please?

[Timaeus]

7366825

derpicdn.net/img/view/2012/8/21/79118__safe_applejack_animated_suited+for+success_thinking.gif

Maybe if you ask very, very nicely.

[TwilightUCrazy]

7366971

oi58.tinypic.com/oiztzm.jpg

...Pretty please?

[Timaeus]

7367185

Hmm, well . . .

i.gyazo.com/72aca758e4b716ce47d825ba2f18140b.png

i.gyazo.com/bb8be65e2a510744be4003f0d95734f9.png

Okay, you talked me into it. Final chapter, dropping in ten!

You know using that picture was cheating, right?

[PresentPerfect]

counting on her to read to bring spring to Ponyville by reading

I think something went horribly wrong here c.c

[Ice Star]

Mayor Mare tilted her head to one side. “Your friend?” When Amethyst nodded, she smiled. “Then maybe you ought to listen to her a little more. It sounds to me like she has a good head on her shoulders.”

she ships it

[MidnightFMare]

8286340
me too