My alarm startled me awake. I reached a hand out of bed to shut it off, but it wasn't there. With a groan I fumbled at the internal phone and managed to stop the alarm.

—Not as much as Rainbow Dash. She told me she would have to leave her car keys.—

"She might be brash, but she isn't stupid. Alcohol makes it harder to behave rationally, and it reduces reaction times," I said a moment before another thought hit me. "Darling, you didn't notice?"

I slid from bed and made my way to the bathroom. Stripping, I stepped into the shower and began my morning care. I always washed my hair first. It took the majority of my time to care for my locks, but it was an investment that paid off with every glance.

My shower had a wall mirror on one side, which made examining my horn wonderfully convenient. The nail-polish remover I had used the previous night had done its job, and my horn was pristine and black again. I traced one finger along the edges only to find it not as sharp as it looked; the tip was a point, and the edge leading down from it like a blade, but the rest was just hard corners.

"It can be a little insidious like that. More than a drink in an hour, for my body, is too much. I don't think you had too much or I wouldn't have been able to work on the computer as easily as I did."

I leaned back in the shower and tilted my head forward—there was no way a single part of my body was going to go neglected. With soap and a nailbrush, I went to work on my horn. It took a little longer than I'd hoped but when I was done, the ebony spire practically emanated darkness.

The rest of my body was a well-traveled road. I exfoliated and then cleaned with a sweet-smelling body wash until my skin glowed. A glance in the mirror showed me that I was done, but I looked over my curves and sighed.

I turned off the water after one last rinse and stepped out onto the tiled floor of my bathroom. A towel for my hair would have to do while I got everything else dry. One large towel wrapped around my head—with some careful application of another elsewhere—later, and I was as dry as I would get.

Today was all business and I wanted to look the part—something that was somewhat of a theme for me. A smart business suit, hair up, and horn—

—Don't draw attention to it. Any attempt to hide it will fail, so why try? You are picking out business attire, so makeup is already a minimalist concern. Wear your suit and horn like they were both part of you.—

My lips curled into a smile. I made my way to the vanity where I did my makeup and sat down at it. Minimalist. A hint of eye-shadow, a touch of gloss on my lips, a little eyeliner, and nothing for my horn.

The startlingly green eyes staring back at me in the mirror were easier for me to look at, but I hoped Suri would pop a seam when I looked at her.

A quick trip to the bathroom to re-wrap my hair later, I started on the rest of my preparations. A comfortable bra that would give me some lift, cute panties that I would like someone to see some day, a clean and pressed white shirt with an open collar, stockings, garter belt, slacks, vest, and finally a pair of pumps with just enough lift to raise my heels a few inches.

The question floored me. It was the kind of question that forcibly reminded me that NotABug wasn't human.

"Sex. I honestly haven't been with anyone since college, and those weren't relationships."

I attached a pair of cufflinks shaped like roses to my shirt sleeves. The answer I gave was both mechanically and implicitly correct, just like my offhanded statement in the shower.

"That's why Rainbow Dash got me that app. She said I needed to get out more," I said.

Realization and hindsight are wonderful, terrible things. Rainbow Dash had been chasing me for so long that I took it as given she always would, but she had gotten me the app because she saw that it wouldn't work. That she might have caught on that my work at Polomare wasn't all it was cracked up to be was a minor revelation.

I felt like crying. I clamped down on the emotion so strongly that I lost track of time and just sat still.

A moment before I started to cry I pulled back from the world. NotABug pushed past me to take control.

—Sorry, darling, but could you get me to work? I don't think I should drive right now,— I sent NotABug.

I turned most of my attention toward building a list of tasks for the day. Quitting my job, visiting the bank to open some business accounts, visiting some sites I had picked out, getting a big tub of ice-cream… It was going to be both exciting and a little overwhelming.

—Rainbow Dash tried to help me see that I wasn't living life. She did it in her own way, but she did it. And, I ignored her.—

The greatest thing I had discovered about having NotABug in control was that I could be startled into mute shock and things still got done. She spent time brushing her hair, giving it the final effort to dry it out before she put it up.

I would make Rainbow Dash a dress that she would like, and I would apologize for being an idiot and not see her efforts to help me earlier.

—A certain someone wanting to take her out on a date and wanting to see her in something pretty wouldn't have anything to do with that, would it?—

It barely took a thought to reach out and turn on the laptop computer. While NotABug grabbed a breakfast bar I began designing a dress for Rainbow Dash. It was going swimmingly until I felt a slight jolt and then lost connection to the computer.

Bringing my awareness back to what was going on around me, I saw NotABug was driving her way through the morning traffic at the end of the street. Of course, the wifi wasn't going to cover that far.

Instead of answering immediately, NotABug pulled the car over to the side of the road and shifted a little in the seat.

—You don't need to have it near. The wireless connection was one way of linking with it, but there are others,— NotABug sent me. —Come on, let me show you my second home.—

Without any reason not to trust her, I followed NotABug in a hop from our internal phone, to the new one, and then out. Never before had I realized how apt a description "web" was for the internet. NotABug led me through link after link, hopping through computers that made promises to keep us connected.

She pulled me along to a particular computer that she began poking at a lot. Every poke elicited a reply, and NotABug was processing through them rapidly.

—If the mobile phone is our only internet connection, and we have it with us, how can the laptop computer be on the internet?—

NotABug immediately stopped perusing what I came to realize was a lookup for computers. She slowly withdrew, leaving me to find my way out behind her. She put on the car's indicator and turned around for home.

—It is because you are having to do things from a different place now. You'll get used to it.—

"You’re right, but I want to get used to it faster. Windigo is out there somewhere, still, and I need to make sure they don't hurt anyone else."

The conviction and worry in NotABug's voice stirred my emotions away from the self-pity that my ignorance of Rainbow Dash's motives had caused. I made an effort to reach for NotABug's memories of Windigo while she parked the car and went inside for the computer.

A huge beast of an entity, Windigo was mostly teeth and nose. It was built for hunting and destroying. No. I suddenly realized it wasn't built for it, it evolved to it. That concept was much more worrying.

—We need to establish where it is and ways to fight it. Starting at the servers you were hosted at, working back to Canterlot University, and then possibly forward. If we can destroy its servers, then it is defeated.—

NotABug froze in her tracks. She had the laptop in its bag under one arm and was staring at the open door like it wasn't there.

"Rarity, you don't have to do that. I'll work out how to get out of your head and then I can fight Windigo myself."

—NotABug. Firstly, it's your head at the moment. Second, if or when you do get out, I will still help you. Thirdly,— I sent, cutting off the end but sending anyway. It took me fractions of a second to come up with the wording I wanted. —Thirdly, if you can't get out, you are welcome to stay.—

"You know, the worst thing about us both being in here at the same time is I can't hug you."

NotABug strode toward the car as if she were walking a runway while wearing the highest fashion. Power and poise dominated every step. Meanwhile, I reached back for the laptop computer and went back to designing Rainbow Dash's dress.

NotABug's words came with a mental nudge. I saved my work on the laptop as I slid back to the fore. Collecting the handbag NotABug had chosen (which matched the outfit perfectly, I might add), I made sure my phone was inside before locking my car.

The outfit I wore oozed confidence. I strode with vigor for the office building and made my way to the lifts. Anticipation built when the lift opened and I stepped inside.

Even the office building seemed brighter, more real, now that I had made my decision. The lift dinged when it reached my office's floor, and I climbed out and aimed myself for the cubicle farm.

Moments before reaching the cubicles I turned for the aisle that led to Suri Polomare's office. The horn on my head meant nothing with the level of confidence I had—I was in control and on top of everything. I reached Suri's office—the door was closed, of course—and knocked on the door.

I knocked again, only to get no answer this time. In my head a younger me was already singing "Life Is A Runway" and cheered me on. I reached for the door handle, twisted, and pushed the door open.

The office was a mess. A pile of papers that sat on one edge of Suri's desk had dropped a good amount of its mass to the floor below. There was a coffee stain on the keyboard (along with what looked like dust), but the real model of productivity was sitting in the chair itself.

Suri Polomare had her legs up on the desk (probably the reason the papers had fallen) and was apparently halfway through painting her toenails. Her mobile phone was balanced on one leg, and it seemed to have a picture of a toenail style that she was trying to emulate.

"How dare you barge in here while I'm busy!" Suri said. "I'm going to issue you with—"

I didn't want to give her the satisfaction of firing me—which was what another warning would do.

Forget about my lamentation over not having a sexual partner; saying those two words was better than any sex I'd ever had. I marched right up to her desk (standing on some pieces of paper her legs had displaced) and smiled at my—former—boss and tormentor.

"You have to give two weeks notice. You can't just quit and leave—alright?!" Suri said (or asked).

"Most companies waive that, for obvious reasons. What game are you playing, Suri?" I asked.

—Darling, can you look up laws regarding this? I don't think what she's doing is legal,— I sent to NotABug.

I locked eyes with my tormentor. NotABug (I could hear in the back of my head) was shuffling lots of information for me. I had to keep her talking without committing to anything until NotABug had my answer.

"Oh. You know? Just ensuring all the Ts are dotted and Is are crossed. I am sure there's some nasty clauses in your contract for failure to provide notice—right?" Suri asked.

She got up slowly, careful of her newly painted toes, and walked to a filing cabinet that looked like it had been recently used (unlike her computer). She started slowly flicking through files in one drawer, not realizing that her idiotic delay was helping me more than her.

—It's… sort of legal. The only restrictions they could place on you for not finishing your notice is cutting your pay short those two weeks and telling your new employer that it happened,— NotABug sent me.

—Two weeks of coming here, many weeks chasing a court, or I just ignore my last paycheck.—

Suri was just pulling out my file (I assumed) when my rapid conversation with NotABug ended. She turned to face me with a big grin on her face.

She sounded entirely too happy, that wasn't good. I realized that of course she would know what was in the contract, she would have filed the reports on me and put them in with it. How far had she planned this out, I wondered.

"Failure to give appropriate notice on termination of contract, waivable at the Company's discretion, will cause the Employee to default to the following," Suri said, quoting the document and smiling far too much for my liking. "Forfeiture of unpaid wages. Six month non-competition agreement. Oh, forfeiture of unpaid leave."

As she read out each item in the list Suri glanced up at me and paused. The first wasn't a major issue, nor was the third, but the second clause would be a problem.

—The first is legal, but the last two aren't. You'd have to take her to court for them, and your unpaid leave would be enough to make it a full court,— NotABug sent me.

The reply surprised me. I had worked out how to bold text but not italicize them. It seemed a good way to emote too, short of actually using those horrible emoji. I studied the reply a little more and finally found the special characters NotABug had used to generate the italics.

Regardless of my thoughts on interpersonal communications and linguistic nuances, I had Suri to deal with.

"None of that is legal. Sign off that I can leave and you won't have to see me in court," I said.

"Daddy has his own lawyers for the company. I would never see you in court, but I am sure you will be spending a lot of time there—okay?"

I wanted to grind my teeth or even raise my voice but I knew neither would actually help. A soft sigh, as if I felt imposed upon just by being in Suri's presence (technically true), and I gave a little nod.

I turned and made my way out of Suri's office and walked down the cubicles toward the time clock. Tapping in my employee number, I waited for it to beep before heading to my cubicle.

There was a stack of patterns on the side of my desk. I considered my options. There wasn't enough time in the day for work and what I planned to do, which left me pondering ways to simply leave. I glanced behind me for a moment, stood up, and retraced my steps to the time clock.

I punched in a query on the clock, and it told me I had four days of personal leave. Tapping my code in again and telling the machine to log me out, I had a bounce in my step as I headed back to Suri's office.

"… just barged in! I couldn't believe—" Suri said into her phone. "What are you doing in here again?"

"A sick friend just called and told me she is in dire need of someone to take care of her. I know it's short notice, but that's what personal leave is for. Tootles," I said and started to turn.

"Personal leave, Suri. I have stated my reason and you have to accept it. Since it's not myself that is sick, you don't require a doctor's note."

This time I turned and left. Pulling the door closed behind me, I started compiling a text message to Coco Pommel.

—I have given Suri notice and told her I am taking a personal day. Could you double check she has logged both on the system?—

—Suri, use a computer? She would have told someone else to do it. Would you like me to do it?— Coco replied.

—You are a lifesaver, darling. Thank you so much.—

I got to the car when the next message came in. Opening my door, I slid into the safe confines of someplace I could control completely.

—Suri registered that you quit. What she didn't do was put a reason for your day off. Also, she made specific notes about you having to work out your 14 days?—

—Suri is being Suri. Thanks again.—

—I'll try to get it pushed up higher. HR won't be happy with this arrangement.—

With a gentle touch of my thoughts I started the car, checked the reversing camera, and slid it into reverse. Rolling backward, I turned and made my way from the parking garage.

The bank I dealt with wasn't far, and I made my way there with no particular haste.

—Rainbow Dash and her hangover. She'll probably call around midday and ask if I can come home and let her get her keys.—

When I pulled up at the bank and got out, I actually got some strange looks from people. The attention wasn't unwarranted considering my horn, eyes, and the streak of cerulean hair. Wearing what amounted to formal attire, however, meant that I looked just strange enough for people to completely write me off as odd.

I grabbed my laptop and, with a tight, confident gait, I walked inside the bank. There was the usual line to reach a teller, but there was also a help desk that was manned. I walked over and smiled at the young man behind the counter.

His eyes were cerulean (a shade or two lighter than my hair). He had a shock of dark gray hair and light opal skin—I thought the combination quite striking. He had on a smart shirt, tie, and dark slacks (fairly normal attire for a bank employee). The man also wore a headset, although I could tell he was speaking directly to me (it was probably just the way he made eye contact).

"I'm a customer of yours, and I am about to start a business," I said, and I watched his eyes light up. "I'll need accounts, card facilities, and advice."

"I can't help you with all of that from here, unfortunately," he said. "But I can have you see someone from our business team."

I pondered my options. The young man wouldn't be stupid, and he definitely looked quite fetching.

"That would be wonderful, but maybe you could give me your number too? In case I have any questions you can handle," I said.

My heart was beating faster and I fought my urge to blush. Come on, Rarity, this is modern Canterlot; a woman can ask for a man's number.

"Sure. Let me get them out here and I'll even give you my cell in case you need some help out of business hours."

He tapped a few buttons on his phone and began speaking into his headset. I ignored his words, focusing on the numbers he wrote on the back of a business card. Then he wrote his name under it: Neon Lights.

The lights on his phone that had lit up when he made the call winked out and he turned those fabulous eyes on me again.

I took the card when he handed it to me, and we shared a little smile together before someone (similarly clad to Neon) walked up to the counter.

Unlike Neon, the woman was, well, a woman, and a recognizable one at that: Fleur dis Lee. It was a long time ago that Crystal Prep Academy had almost started the end of two worlds, but after helping save various people from certain doom, Fleur had spent time chatting with me about fashion. That, of course, I would not forget.

"You like it? I wanted to be different," I said, turning to the side and tilting my head just so.

"It is certainly that. I would love to know how you did that with your eyes. Those aren't contacts, are they?"

Fleur's excitement, her interest, proved just how stale an environment Polomare Fashion was. I turned back to face Fleur and winked.

"Trade secret, darling. But speaking of trade, I'm here to start a new business."

"Come this way. I assume it has something to do with fashion? I had heard you were working at Polomare."

Fleur led the way down a short hall and into a private room. She settled behind a desk, at a computer terminal, and let me take the comfortable chair opposite. Her fingers were lightning on the keyboard, letting me know that, if nothing else, she was good enough at her job to learn the computer.

I lifted out my laptop and set it on the desk. While I opened the screen, I flicked the correct spreadsheet up.

"I have run some numbers on establishing a fashion boutique. I need—" I said, but the look in Fleur's eyes made me stop. "What's the matter?"

Looking somewhat like she was strangling a puppy, Fleur gave a little shake of her head.

"These figures look good, Rarity, but the bank isn't looking to support a business loan for retail right now."

My worry melted. “Darling, I have a silent partner who is providing the start-up funds."

Apparently I had said the magic words. Fleur dis Lee's face broke into a wide smile again. She started tapping away on her computer.

"That changes everything. Of course we can support all your business needs. You'll need an overdraft account, with the business itself as the collateral," Fleur said and held up her hand to forestall my questions. "Even if you never use it, an overdraft is a security net. You'll need an income account, expense account. A company card or two. How many employees?"

If it weren't for NotABug's crash course in mentally traveling the internet, I would have been in information overload. As it was, I merely struggled to write everything down into a big message to myself.

I couldn't help but smile at both parts of my statement. NotABug was technically a citizen; I remembered her having identification to get her own finances started.

"Yourself and one other?" she asked, to which I nodded. "Sensible. Do you have the legal side of things covered? Business registration, employee contracts, lease, etcetera."

Fleur could apparently read my expression. I had planned for several of those things, having worked a summer job at Priss Fashion let me see some of the day-to-day parts of running a business, but there was a lot I had missed.

She started writing up plans of action, several reputable lawyers who could help me with the legal side, and finished the business part of the meeting by giving me a bound portfolio with all the information inside.

We looked at each other for a few moments before a smile broke out on each of our faces.

"So, what has happened since you left High School? Weren't you going to fashion college?" Fleur said, and settled back a little in her seat.

"Oh, I did. Passed with flying colors—literally. When I graduated everyone said I would go right to the top, and in this town that is Polomare Fashion."

"I detect a note of hostility. Given your activities,"—Fleur gestured at the portfolio—"I gather it isn't going well?"

—She seems nice, but I don't think I want to get her angry,— NotABug sent me.

—The school she attended specialized in overly competitive behavior. They practically used it as motivation and drummed it into all their students. Outside of her work she is a nice person, and has a good eye for fashion. I am sure that you are right, which is why I'm happy to have her working on our side.—

—We could try to contact them, but only when we both agree on a safe way to do so,— I sent NotABug. —A certain friend of mine from another world would approve of that greatly.—

Winding my mind back mentally to the verbal conversation, I let out a little sigh.

"My job at Polomare was altering existing fashions to suit the new season with as little changes as possible so that they wouldn't have to change the machines that mass-produce them. My boss is narcissistic and has demanded I complete two weeks of work after giving notice. All this on top of realizing that any promotion I might get would make me less likely to see another bolt of fabric."

"Sorry to dump that on you, darling, but you did ask. So I'm putting Polomare behind me. I have a silent backer who is willing to let me control the business, and I intend to take full advantage of their generosity by making it work."

Fleur raised a perfectly trimmed eyebrow and looked at me as if I were a little crazy.

"She, actually, and it's not exactly like that. We are—we're filling a need for each other. It's a little complicated—"

My mobile, the new one, began ringing. I reached for it, but NotABug answered it before I managed to. Left fumbling, I tucked the phone back in my bag.

"Oh, it stopped ringing? Must have been one of those dratted telemarketers. I had to leave the thing on mute at work because they would call me every hour," I said.

—It's Rainbow. She wants to know if you can come home and get her keys,— NotABug sent me.

"Talk to one of those lawyers, or find your own, and come back with the business papers and I can get all this put into action. Make it around eleven A.M. and we can have lunch then."

I thanked Fleur, and picked up my handbag and the portfolio. I left the bank, jumped in my car, and drove home. Like usual, I had the amazing help of the car itself in searching the road ahead and behind. I didn't bother with the shifter anymore and would have been directly adjusting the throttle, too, if I didn't think that would be the most dangerous thing I could do.

By the time I reached home, Rainbow Dash was waiting for me—leaning against the side of her car. I pulled my little baby into the driveway and turned it off. NotABug nudged me, and before even giving her control, I knew what was coming.

NotABug opened the door and slipped out. She was good at controlling my—her—body (I tried to get the ownership straight in my head again, as it seemed slipping out and in messed with my perception), and the motion was as smooth as I would have managed myself.

I wasn't sure when Rainbow Dash had moved, but someone with her speed could compress distance very rapidly. She was right in front of me and NotABug was leaning forward.

The heterosexual side of me would like to make it clear that Rainbow Dash wrapping NotABug in her arms and kissing her was neither interesting nor satisfying. The truth of the matter, however, was that it was both. And it lasted a little longer than I would have thought it would, too.

"Hey, babe," Rainbow Dash said, her arms still around NotABug. "Is Rarity doing okay? You didn't give her a hangover from last night, did you?"

"She said to say she's fine, that she didn't get a hangover. You taste really good," NotABug said.

I actually delighted in the confused look on Rainbow Dash's face, as did NotABug it seemed—she giggled. An odd thought struck me: I hadn't tasted anything different in Rainbow Dash's kiss at all. Not that I kissed her before, and not that I wanted to taste something. I put it down to NotABug being adorably non-human in her exploration of things.

"Wait," Rainbow Dash said, looking surprised at something. "She's listening? How does that work?"

"When one of us wants to be in control, or wants to give up control, the other can feel it. I get a tingle from her either way. She can see what I can see and feel what I can feel. Why are you blushing?"

"You mean to tell me Rarity felt all that? The kiss? She—" Rainbow Dash said, cutting herself short. "Okay. This is going to take some getting used to. S-Sorry, Rarity, I didn't mean to do anything out of line."

—Rainbow Dash, don't you dare apologize for making NotABug feel good. She has every right to enjoy life as much as she wishes,— I messaged to Rainbow Dash.

Of course, Rainbow Dash jerked when her phone bleeped at her. In my haste I had forgotten she can't communicate as readily as NotABug or I. She read the message with a little smile pulling at her lips.

"Rarity, Princess Twilight was right about you. You're generous to your core," Rainbow Dash said.

NotABug grabbed her handbag, the laptop, and the folio from the car and closed it up. She walked toward the house, and I could have sworn she put a little extra sway into her hips. Of course she was, I realized—she is showing off for Rainbow Dash.

—Yeah. But she can't take her eyes off me when I do this. Look at the camera in our phone.—

Dutifully, I accessed the device and sure enough, Rainbow Dash was practically slack-jawed. If I'd known all it took to make Rainbow Dash this deliriously happy, I might have walked like that before now.

Deploying my house keys, NotABug opened the front door and beckoned Rainbow Dash in. Getting a little distracted, I woke the laptop up again and started investigating the lawyers Fleur had suggested. They all specialized in business law, and all but one was specifically only doing out-of-court duties.

The following lesson on audio, generating waveforms, interpreting waveforms, and data compression nearly blew me away, but at the same time, each thing NotABug explained sparked a memory of the topic, of learning it already. NotABug's memories of adapting her digital self to the analog world.

The explanation would have taken hours had it been out loud. When I checked the time, barely fifteen minutes had passed. I reached past all the digital interfaces (which I must say I was getting quite familiar with) and focused back on the world through NotABug's eyes.

Rainbow Dash and NotABug were sitting on the couch together, each with a drink and around half a sandwich left. They were chatting, or rather Rainbow Dash was talking about her problem competing in any kind of sport.

"… just can't do it. The moment I try to run I pony up, and when people see that they either freak out or crowd around me," Rainbow Dash said. "It wouldn't be so bad except most of the ones that want to crowd around are the creepy types."

She also had one arm casually over NotABug's shoulder. I had to give Rainbow Dash credit; she was being a perfect lady around NotABug. I hated to break up their little lunch-date, but I needed to test something.

Predictably, Rainbow Dash pulled her phone out and was reaching to hang up on the call without even glancing at it.

Rainbow Dash answered the call, and immediately I felt a tugging sensation from the phone—it wanted data.

The sound that issued from the poor phone when I tried to say hello startled Rainbow Dash and myself—NotABug giggled.

"You need to work on that, Rarity. Can you make sense of what I'm saying through the microphone?" NotABug asked.

That surprised me. I had been so focused on the call that I hadn’t realized I’d been matching the voice from my—her ears to the waveform I got from Rainbow Dash's phone.

—Listening is helping me make sense of it. Please, just ignore me and let me listen through this,— I sent NotABug.

—You can do that, and not annoy Rainbow Dash, if you call our other phone,— NotABug sent. —Oh! I've got a better idea. Hang up on Rainbow Dash and have a look at this.—

"Rarity's going to listen on our mobile. Don't worry, she's just trying to learn how to make voices. She's picking it up faster than I did, but then again, she doesn't have to deal with learning spoken language at the same time," NotABug said.

Left staring at her phone, Rainbow Dash seemed to snap out of some fugue state. She shook her head and put her phone back in a pocket.

"I don't know why it confuses me sometimes. Rarity spent so long telling me she wasn't gay, and now here you are and you're into me. I guess I thought, at first, that you were Rarity trying to be not-awkward about wanting to go out. Though you seem a little like her sometimes, you're really not her."

Listening to Rainbow Dash's voice in stereo (wait, is there a term for hearing from three sources at once), I compared the way things sounded to the way the phone reported them, and of course I found patterns. Loudness increased the spiky bits, pitch made more spiky bits in less time, but I still needed more to understand everything.

"When I was attacked and jumped into Rarity, I was badly hurt by Windigo. It had turned off some key servers I was using to hold—well—me. Rarity's magic fixed that by copying bits of her into me. My own impeccable style comes from her, as well as a propensity for flowery speech. I don't even know if I was female before, but I might have gotten that too," NotABug said.

NotABug giggled at Rainbow's question. She lifted a hand up and tapped her lips with one finger in thought.

"I think I like everyone. There was a cute guy at the bank—Rarity was flirting with him—and I thought he was… cute. I don't know. Rarity said I could make up my own choices. So, until I have found someone who doesn't seem cute I guess I don't know. You're really cute, Rainbow Dash."

The way Rainbow Dash squeezed NotABug's shoulders told me more about how much my friend thought of NotABug than her words would.

"Pretty sure I never thought of it like that before. I guess you're right, though. How can you really know the full extent of what you like until you've found things you dislike?" Rainbow Dash asked.

I was surprised at how deep my friend was, then I remembered that she had been the one trying to save me from myself.

"I don't like onion, if that helps. It makes me burp really badly. Not having an internet connection is bad, too," NotABug said as she leaned sideways against Rainbow Dash. "Where are you taking me on this date?"

"Well, I was going to check around a bit later in the week," Rainbow Dash said, after recovering her ability to talk. "Why? Was there somewhere you wanted to go?"

I spent twenty-three minutes and seventeen seconds listening to Rainbow Dash and NotABug talk before Rainbow Dash excused herself and got up to leave. It wasn't hard to work out that NotABug was looking right at Rainbow's rump as my friend left.

"I think I might have thif under control," I said through the mobile phone's speaker. "Oh drat, I don't think I got the F found worked out fully."

"Perfect, darling. This—" I said, pausing to prove I had worked out S. "… will be very helpful."

It did, however, take a lot more of my focus than anything but actually controlling my body did. I pulled back from the new mobile phone and reached for the internal one's dialing interface and entered the number for the lawyer who handled documents and court situations.

The voice was young and male (at least I hoped so), and there was an edge of precision to their pronunciation that made them sound the pinnacle of… I have Ps on the brain. He sounded really sharp.

"Rarity, please. And I was about to start a new business. Fleur dis Lee, from Canterlot National Bank, recommended I call you," I said.

"Would you like an appointment? With either Mr. Pants or Mrs. Velvet? I have a cancellation at two. You could see Mr. Pants."

"That would be lovely," I said. "One more thing: where are your offices situated?"

He gave me the address and we finalized the call. I had just hung up and noticed NotABug in front of the makeup mirror, retouching her face.

The time, omnipresent, was just short of 1 P.M. which gave NotABug plenty of time to redo her makeup.

—In an hour. No rush. I picked this one because I recognized a name, and I hope it's the person I think it is.—

I sent the address to NotABug. She finished her makeup and nudged me. I was surprised at her wish to change over, but slid into the driver's seat, so to speak.

The change from merely existing with sensations to having full control never failed to interest me. I know I wasn't actually moving, but it was like breaking the surface of a lake after swimming underneath. Sunlight, air, sounds… it all came into sharper focus.

"Thank you, dear. I must confess that my days are not normally this exciting. You've shaken my life up in wonderful, but busy, ways."

—I didn't mean to shake it up. You just seemed so unhappy about working at Polomare, and I thought we could be friends.—

"The biggest regret I have is that you aren't that adorable little dark pony I could hug. I was unhappy, but now I can see the light. Even if we don't work out what's going on with my horn, eyes, and hair, this is still better than anything that could have come from staying at Polomare."

The rest of the day, in comparison to things so far, was much less complicated. Mr. Pants really was Fancy Pants, a friend of my parents. He took everything in hand and told me the papers should be finalized by early next week.

When I returned from that, I took to my work room and started designing Rainbow Dash a dress. Something long and flowing—I pictured her dancing with NotABug and my heart melted. I know I'm rushing past a few things that happened, but I'll be honest: I barely understood half of what Mr. Pants said apart from a deadline and how much it would cost.

By the time I was done with a preliminary design for Rainbow Dash's dress, it was dinner time. Walking quietly to the kitchen, I felt a soothing peace in my head and realized NotABug was already asleep.

I curled up on the couch watching a movie, eating a quick salad I had put together from things in the fridge, and barely noticed when I was nudged and NotABug walked us to bed. Truthfully, having a good friend, a sister, living in my head seemed to be a good deal.

Queen Rarity

by Damaged

Chapter 6