There were many, many things that Pinkie Pie did not understand--higher-level mathematics, the international political relations between Equestria and the various griffon kingdoms, how Twilight Sparkle didn’t die of boredom from having to live in a library. But there were also many things that she did understand, such as how to adjust dessert recipes to account for missing ingredients or how to throw together a surprise party for fifty guests in under ten minutes flat.
And, above all else, Pinkie understood the peculiar inner workings and quirky eccentricities of a pegasus named Rainbow Dash.
Which was why she was not at all concerned when Dash began yelling at her just a few minutes ago, the pegasus’ pink eyes blazing with fury and her forelegs gesticulating wildly. Pinkie simply stood there, let the yelling wash over her like chocolate rain, and patiently waited for Dash to finish saying what she had to say. To while away the time she thought about cake recipes, tuning back in every so often to check if Dash was saying anything that she should pay attention to.
Dash mostly wasn’t.
“ … can’t believe you jumped on top of that monster’s head … “
The problem with cakes, of course, was the frosting. It was always the frosting. Too cold, and it wouldn’t spread easily enough. Too warm, and it melted into a gloppy mess that slid right off the cake. It was a very serious dilemma and, as a consequence, Pinkie Pie spent an inordinate amount of her daily life pondering over the mysteries of cake frosting.
“ … and then when I hauled you away, you ran right back in! I swear, Pinkie, I should have just left you there and let that thing … ”
Vanilla was also a puzzle that refused to be solved. Pinkie loved vanilla almost as much as she loved her sisters--and she loved her sisters an awful, awful lot--so she was always tempted to add more vanilla to recipes that called for that particular ingredient. More of a good thing should mean a really, really good thing, she reasoned. But strangely, that’s never how it seemed to work out. Too much vanilla somehow ended up resulting in a nigh inedible mess.
Still, Pinkie remained confident that one day she would be able to invent a way to add as much vanilla to baked goods as her heart desired and not have it turn out a disaster. She had to remain confident in that--because if she didn’t have that hope, that dream, then what did she have?
“... and you don’t look like you’re even listening to me!” A frustrated huff. “Pinkie Pie, are you listening?”
“Darling, please! You simply must calm yourself. Can’t you see that the poor girl is … ”
Rarity? Pinkie Pie blinked. Usually it was Twilight who interrupted Dash’s yelling sessions. Rarity interrupting was a nice change in the routine.
Ignoring her myriad dessert problems for the moment, Pinkie glanced around and took in her surroundings, just to make sure she hadn’t missed anything important. But the forest looked the same as it had right before Rainbow had started shouting--big creepy trees, tall branches spreading out their fingers like spider webs, leafy boughs blocking out nearly all the sunlight from above. Nothing to get too worried about, in other words.
Next she turned to look at Rarity. The unicorn was giving her a sad, sympathetic smile, which caused Pinkie’s stomach to drop. She hoped Rarity wasn’t mad at Rainbow. She’d have to throw a party later, where the pegasus and unicorn could talk--and make up, if need be--just to be extra sure.
After all, a pony could never be too sure in these kinds of situations. That’s why Pinkie hosted at least half of the parties she hosted. Parties were good insurance against friendship decay.
“That’s right, Rainbow Dash.” Ah, there was Twilight. Good old, reliable Twilight. “If Pinkie hadn’t gone back in, then we never would have … ”
Pinkie briefly considered resuming her musings on cakes and cake frosting, but her train of thought had been broken. It’d be too hard to get back on track now, most likely, so she decided she might as well keep paying attention to the current conversation.
“We’re all okay now,” murmured Fluttershy, her voice little more than a whisper. “Isn’t that, um, the important thing?”
“But she almost wasn’t!” Dash looked at all of her friends one by one, with a sense of confusion and betrayal in her eyes, before she turned back towards Pinkie Pie. When she spoke again, the pegasus’ voice cracked like shattered glass. “Pinkie! You could have gotten really hurt back there!”
“But I didn’t,” Pinkie replied, very calmly and very sensibly. “You saved me! You always save me.”
Rainbow Dash glared her very best glare, as though she was trying to use the pure power of her rage to explode the pink earth pony into nothing but cotton-candy fluff. It didn’t work. Pinkie guessed that this meant the pegasus had probably run out of steam and that it was finally her turn to talk.
“So, Dashie,” she began in a bright tone. “Are you done being all ranty and ravey now?”
Dash pondered over the question for a few moments, wearing a thoughtful scowl, before she nodded grudgingly. Pinkie grinned in victory.
And then she leaned forward and pressed her lips tenderly to Rainbow Dash’s. She could both feel and hear Rainbow gasp in surprise. But after a moment Dash kissed her back, softly at first, then deeply, almost frantically. The pegasus tasted like softness and warmth, even though those weren’t really tastes, strictly speaking.
Pinkie Pie smiled as she pulled back from the kiss. “I love you, too. Even though you’re such a silly worrywart.”
Blushing, Dash coughed and looked away. “Stupid! You’re crazy, and you’re stupid.” But when she turned back, she was grinning a bit. “And I’m just as stupid for even caring if a monster gobbles you up or not. Shoulda just let it eat you.”
Pinkie’s smile remained firmly in place. Rainbow would never, could never, allow anything even remotely like that to ever happen, and they both knew it.
“Y’all are the weirdest couple I ever seen,” observed Applejack. She shook her head slowly, as if she wasn’t sure whether to be amused or disgusted.