Upon reaching Sugarcube Corner, Pinkie Pie was greeted by the sight of Mrs. Cup Cake closing up shop.
“Oh, there you are, Pinkie!” Mrs. Cake said as she noticed Pinkie approach.
“Hi, Mrs. Cake!” Pinkie said. She glanced towards the closed sign and asked, “What’s going on? Sugarcube Corner isn’t supposed to close for another few hours. Is something wrong?”
“No, nothing’s wrong, dear,” Mrs. Cake replied with a reassuring smile. “It’s just that it’s been a slow day, and we’re low on stock anyway, so Carrot and I decided to close up early and take the rest of the day off.”
As if on cue, Mr. Carrot Cake appeared from the side of the building. “All set, honey bun?” he asked Mrs. Cake.
“Almost!” Mrs. Cake replied. She turned back to Pinkie. “Pinkie, I know this is sudden, but -”
“Say no more, Mrs. Cake. I’ll stay and watch the twins while you’re gone,” Pinkie interrupted. “I was gonna bake a few pies to make up for the ones I gave Trixie anyway.”
“Thank you so much, dear,” Mrs. Cake said. “The twins are asleep in their room, and we should still have everything you need to bake a few pies, so the kitchen’s all yours. Just be sure to clean up after, okay?”
“Sure thing, Mrs. Cake, ma'am!” Pinkie said, saluting. “Have fun out on the town!”
“Thanks again, Pinkie!” Mrs. Cake said with a smile before walking away with her husband.
After the Cakes left, Pinkie zoomed inside Sugarcube Corner, went up the stairs, quietly checked on the twins, then zipped back down to the kitchen, where she laid out everything she needed to start baking on the kitchen counter.
Once Pinkie was satisfied that everything was set, she reached into her mane and fished out a disoriented Reaper.
“Okay!” Pinkie said, smiling widely as she set Reaper down on the counter. “Ready to start baking, Reaper?”
Reaper wobbled back and forth, then lost his balance and fell face first onto the counter.
Where are we? What year is it? Reyes’ voice asked.
Keeping Reaper’s pride in mind, Pinkie bit her lip and tried to keep herself from reacting to the tiny figure’s adorable struggle to rise. Despite her efforts, a soft squeal escaped her as Reaper tripped over his own robes and crashed into a mixing bowl, which resulted in him lying curled up inside.
After spending a few moments recuperating in the bowl, Reaper finally managed to rise and climb his way out. He stomped over to the edge of the counter nearest Pinkie, glaring daggers at her all the while.
“Never. Do that. Again,” he said, punctuating each statement by poking Pinkie’s chest as threateningly as he could. “Or so help me, I will find a way to kill you.”
Pinkie looked down at Reaper, with his tiny arms crossed and his black eye thingies narrowed into a death glare, and found that she couldn’t hold it in any longer. She let out a snort and burst into a fit of giggles.
“I’m serious,” Reaper threatened.
“Okie dokie lokie!” Pinkie said, recovering from her giggles. “I Pinkie promise I won’t shove you into my mane again. Cross my heart. Hope to fly. Stick a cupcake in my eye.”
As she said each statement of her promise, Pinkie mimed the matching action, ending with her producing a cupcake and sticking it into her eye.
Waste of a good cupcake, Reyes’ voice commented.
To his horror, Reaper found himself involuntarily salivating at the sight of the icing dripping down Pinkie’s face. That horror turned to surprise as Pinkie’s tongue extended out to lick away the remains of the cupcake.
Okay, so not wasteful, Reyes’ voice said. Just ridiculous.
Reaper shook his head and wondered, not for the last time, what was happening to his life.
Pinkie started speaking again, snapping Reaper back to the present. “So anyway, have you ever baked before, Reaper?”
“No,” Reaper deadpanned.
“Oooooh! A first timer!” Pinkie exclaimed. “This is going to be great! Just you wait, Reaper. Auntie Pinkie Pie’s gonna show you how it’s done. By the time I’m done with you, you’ll be a grade-A, top-notch master baker!”
Reyes’ voice snickered.
“No,” Reaper repeated.
Pinkie’s face fell. “No? But it’ll be so much fun! Just try it!”
“No,” Reaper growled.
“C’mon, pleeeaaase?” Pinkie begged, pouting and giving Reaper puppy dog eyes.
“I said no!” Reaper shouted, pulling out a shotgun and pointing it at Pinkie. “Now leave me alone!”
Pinkie slumped and her poofy mane deflated to about a quarter of its usual volume. “Okay, then,” she said, dejected. “I guess I’ll just...bake these...by myself.”
That was harsh, Reyes’ voice accused.
Reaper ignored the voice. He was a trained killer. One of the most wanted men in the world. The living embodiment of death itself. He would not be forced to bake pies with a magical pink pony that had done nothing but abuse him all day. That was his decision and that was final.
Then why do we feel so bad about it? Reyes’ voice asked.
Reaper watched as Pinkie slowly prepared each of the three pies she planned to bake. Her movements were uncharacteristically sluggish, and her baking methods could only be described as sloppy.
Those pies aren’t going to taste nearly as good as that first cupcake, Reyes’ voice commented.
Reaper did not respond.
Say this is a shop, right? Wonder how much those pastries we’ve been getting cost, Reyes’ voice said, filling the silence. Or even what these ponies’ currency is. We don’t have a single denomination of it, after all.
“Shut up,” Reaper grumbled softly to himself. “It’s not going to work.”
What isn’t? Reyes’ asked innocently. Just making conversation. It’s gotten awfully quiet around here hasn’t it? But hey, that’s how we like it, right? No one talking...No one caring…
Reaper groaned softly. “Shut up; damn you,” he whispered.
To his surprise, the voice actually did, leaving Reaper alone in the silence. A minute passed, then two. Pinkie was barely making any progress. The silence was beginning to make Reaper more uncomfortable than Reyes’ voice did.
“This isn’t right,” Reaper muttered.
But he did nothing. Five minutes passed. Pinkie accidentally knocked over a cup of blueberries, causing it to crash to the floor, where it shattered and spilled its contents every which way.
“Oops,” Pinkie said lifelessly. She then sat down and stared at mess she had made.
Reaper waited for her to move on, but she didn’t. She just sat there, still as a stone. Finally, Reaper couldn’t take it anymore. He tossed away the shotgun he was still holding and screamed in frustration.
“Fine!” he said. “Teach me to bake the stupid pies!”
Pinkie looked up at him, her eyes watery. “R-really?” she asked, sniffing.
“Yes, really!” Reaper said. “Now hurry up, so we can get this over with.”
Pinkie rubbed her eyes then looked back at Reaper. “But you said -”
“I know what I said!” Reaper interrupted. “I...I...”
Am sorry? Reyes’ voice suggested.
“...changed my mind,” Reaper said.
Pinkie’s mane poofed back up and a small smile spread across her face. “Okie dokie lokie,” she said, regaining some of her enthusiasm. “Just let me clean this mess up and we can get started.”
“I’ll...help,” Reaper said.
Well, well, well, volunteering now, are we? Reyes’ voice teased.
With Reaper’s seemingly reluctant cooperation, the pie making went much faster than before. Pinkie also regained more and more of her enthusiasm as they went on. It wasn’t long before the three pies were fully prepared and placed in the oven to bake.
“And now, all we have to do is wait,” Pinkie declared as she set the timer. She turned to Reaper. “You did great for your first time! Having you as an assistant was a lot of fun!”
“Yeah, well, don’t get used to it,” Reaper said. “I hated every minute of this, so I’m not doing it again.”
Who exactly is that supposed to fool? Reyes’ voice asked.
By the look in Pinkie’s eyes, she wasn’t fooled. “Whatever you say, Reaper.”
The door to the kitchen suddenly burst open, and Reaper’s instincts kicked in. Without thinking, he spawned a shotgun in each hand and fired two shots into the open doorway. Instead of an attack, however, all that followed was the sound of crying.
Pinkie rushed towards the door and bent down to pick up two crying foals. “Aww! Pound! Pumpkin! Shhh...it’s okay. Pinkie’s here. Nothing’s gonna hurt you. You just wanted to surprise me, didn’t you?”
Reaper dropped his guns in shock. He missed. He knew that much. His shots had been aimed high and sailed harmlessly over the foals. They were only crying because of the loud and unfamiliar sounds his guns had made. But the horror of what he had almost done shook him to his very core.
IDIOT! a voice in his head shouted. He wasn’t sure if it was Reyes’ or his own. He didn’t care.
Reaper ran forward as fast as his little legs could carry him, vaulting over or barreling through the various baking supplies still left on the counter. When he reached the edge, he leapt with a strength far greater than his small form should have allowed which, combined with his light weight, sent him flying all the way onto Pinkie’s shoulder.
Reaper bent down towards the foals in Pinkie’s hooves. “Hey. Hey there,” he said, trying to make his gravelly voice sound as soothing as possible. He didn’t quite succeed, but the unique tone caught the twins’ attention and they stopped crying to look at him.
“The loud sound was just me,” he continued, desperately trying to think of more to say as he went along. “Just little old me. You wouldn’t be scared of such a little guy, would you?”
The foals continued to stare at him curiously. Reaper wished he could show them a more comforting face than his white mask, but Reyes’ voice had been right, the mask was his face now. Not that the dessicated face his old body had beneath the mask was any less terrifying anyway.
“It’s just a trick I do to make me seem scarier than I am,” he continued, spawning a shotgun in one hand. The sudden appearance of the weapon made the twins gasp.
“Bang,” he said softly, miming the recoil of the gun. “Then...gone.” He dropped the gun and the twins watched as it faded away into mist.
“Oooooooo,” they said together.
Reaper smiled. He had always had a soft spot for kids. People were horrible, deceitful creatures, but kids? Especially young ones like these? They were innocent. Still clean. He briefly remembered his days babysitting little Fareeha while Ana was busy, and his smile grew a little bit wider.
Those days...they weren’t all bad, Reyes’ voice commented softly.
“See?” Reaper said, standing up on Pinkie’s shoulder. “Nothing to be afraaaaaaaahhhh!”
Reaper lost his balance and fell off of Pinkie, landing face first onto the floor.
The twins started laughing.
Innocent, huh? Reyes’ voice said, amused.
Pinkie put the twins down and helped Reaper get up. Reaper shot a glare at her, expecting the same mockery from earlier, but instead found a soft smile.
“You know, you’re not bad with kids,” she told him.
“So I’ve been told,” Reaper said, his tone once more grumpy.
He began dusting himself off, but was quickly bowled over as the twins began to try and play with him.
“Hey! Easy! Easy!” he shouted as he felt his tiny body being poked and prodded by the curious children.
Pinkie giggled. “I think I just thought of something else we could do together. You know, since you hate baking so much.”
Pinkie grabbed Reaper’s outstretched hand and pulled him away from the twins and up to her eye level.
“What?” Reaper asked. The challenge in his voice was undermined by the fact that he was currently dangling from Pinkie’s hoof above a pair of excited foals.
“How would you like to help me babysit the twins every now and again?” Pinkie asked. “They seem to really like you.”
Reaper hung there in silence for a few moments, his face unreadable.
“Fine,” he said at last. “On one condition.”
“What’s that?” Pinkie asked.
“Tell. No one,” Reaper said with as much fire as he could muster at that moment. He tried to poke Pinkie as he said it, but his arms were too short and he ended up just swinging back and forth, much to the twins’ amusement.
“Deal,” Pinkie said with the widest smile she’d made that day.