Despite being flanked by five of her friends who she knew and trusted best, Twilight clutched both the Mane-Iac’s comic and her notebook close to her chest as she pushed through the door into the dingy little shop. All around were dusty shelves of bric-a-brac, in varieties ranging from used sports equipment, to small stones, claws, or other effects with more occult appearances. Cobwebs filled in the gaps where visible dust and dirt didn’t, creating an overall appearance of not merely neglect, but overt standoffishness toward the customer.
“Eugh,” Rarity said from behind. “Are you sure this is the right place, darling?”
“Smells like a hog crawled in here and made a deposit, then died,” Applejack contributed.
Twilight frowned and glanced back at the other girls. “This is the closest place I could find to Zephyr’s and Mane-Iac’s descriptions. I’m still not sure why it’s here and not on the other side of town, but—”
“Maybe they moved?” suggested Pinkie Pie.
Rainbow Dash scoffed at her. “C’mon, Pinkie; how the heck is a whole shop supposed to just pick up and move? I mean… one that looks like it’s never been cleaned since the turn of the century, anyway.”
“Maybe the turn of the last century,” Fluttershy said, poking a finger at what looked like a pile of small bones on one of the shelves.
“I dunno,” Pinkie said, shrugging. “Maybe it’s got magic too, and it can just move when the owner wants it to?”
The girls’ banter died there, though, as their attention was drawn to heavy footsteps coming from the back of the store. Twilight watched between the shelves as a very tall, very muscular man with dark grey-blue skin, bushy white sideburns, and an equally bushy goatee, made his way up to the front counter.
“Well good afternoon, girls! Welcome to Storm King Comics and Collectibles. You can call me the Storm King, or whatever else works… just don’t call me late to dinner!” He added a chuckle that was… fake. Ingratiating, maybe, but definitely fake.
“Hello, sir,” Twilight said, walking up to the counter. “My friends and I are looking for some information about a comic book that we think might’ve been sold by your shop.”
“All right, well, let’s have a look,” he said, holding out his large hands. Twilight failed utterly to avoid staring at his long fingernails, and at the curly white hair on his knuckles and arms, as she proffered it to him. “Hold on now,” he said, keeping the comic held in his hands. “Do you have your receipt for this?”
Twilight blinked. She looked back at the other girls, who gave her a diversity of shrugs and frowns.
“Oh, girls, I’m sorry,” he said, giving a clearly fake smile. “Unless you have your receipt, all sales are final here at Storm King Comics and Collectibles.”
“N… no, we don’t want to return it,” Twilight said. “We just want to know if this is something you might’ve sold.”
The Storm King shrugged and held his hands out wide—including the one still clutching the comic. “You know what? I’ll tell ya, I get all kinds of things moving in and out of here all the time. This might’ve been one of ’em; it might not’ve been. It’s just really hard to say without that receipt.”
Twilight raised her hand. “Um, yes, but I think you might remember this specific comic—”
“Like I said, girls; all sales are final.” He finally set the comic back down on the counter. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to get back to pricing some new merchandise that just came in.”
“Hold on,” Dash said, shouldering past Twilight. “Quit blowing us off and just gimme a straight answer: did you sell this or not?”
He laughed a little. “Like I said, I’m sorry, you’d have to jog my memory somehow!”
Dash frowned at him. “Oh yeah? Well, how ’bout this?” She reached out and flipped the comic open.
A bound figure with a manic grin stared out from it. “Kingy! Why, it’s so nice to see you again!”
Quick as lightning, the Storm King flipped the comic back closed. Then he sat down slowly onto the stool behind the counter, not making eye contact with Twilight, Dash, or any of the others. Just as slowly, he picked up a large plastic cup of soda that was sitting on the counter, and he took a long pull from its straw.
He swallowed, then exhaled.
“Well, crap.”
And with his free hand, he raised a long, crackling staff up into view from behind the counter. A strong breeze kicked up almost immediately, sending showers of dust and detritus scattering throughout the shop.
“I ain’t goin’ back, girls!” he declared, taking the staff in both hands. It glowed bright-white as he drew it up over his head. “I was lucky enough to get out of Equestria once, even if it wasn’t quite in one piece!” Then he swung the staff back down, and the six of them only just managed to avoid the lightning bolt it discharged.
“Rarity, shields!” Twight shouted, hitting the deck. “Pinkie, Dash, keep him busy! AJ, try to flank—”
Her words were drowned out by a huge peal of thunder.
“I’ll tear this whole world apart before I get sent back!”
And as her friends leapt into action, Twilight fished her cell phone out, and started texting…
Sunset Shimmer’s phone buzzed for at least the third time since she’d laid down on the picnic blanket, letting her head rest on Zephyr’s lap. The sensation of his fingers running through her hair was… overwhelming. Intoxicating. Even if it didn’t bring the same warmth and connection as skin would on skin, it was at least something she didn’t have to worry about. And the absence of worry left room for plenty of enjoyment.
A small moan loosed from her throat.
Her eyes shot open, taking in the sight of a small, satisfied grin on Zephyr’s face. “Magic fingers, babe?”
Sunset closed her eyes again and adjusted her head slightly, letting the feeling just soak right back in. “Y’know, I think I get what the Mane-Iac was on about with this. This isn’t just haircare. This is… oh.”
He chuckled. “Well, don’t get yourself too worked-up, all right? Even though I know The Zephyr certainly can have that effect on all kinds of women.”
She laughed at that, and failed to avoid snorting.
“I just can’t believe I was so stupid about all this,” he said, sighing. “I mean, your hair’s pretty amazing too, Sunny. Who knew, I could’ve just asked if you’d be willing to risk me styling it all along?”
“Absolutely,” she said, close to breathless as his fingers kept working close to—yet tantalizingly far from—her scalp. “Hair grows back.” Her phone buzzed again, but it was almost as forgotten as the PB&J sandwiches that they were ostensibly supposed to be eating.
“Huh,” Zephyr said after a few moments. “Well that’s funny.”
“What’s funny?”
“Well, see, my weather app told me we were gonna have clear, sunny skies all day today. But now look out over at downtown; there’s a big ol’ storm brewing there.”
Sunset’s eyes fluttered open again. She raised herself slightly, craning for a look in the direction Zephyr was pointing.
A massive swirl of dark, menacing clouds roiled over just one very limited portion of downtown. Lightning danced about in the melee, with huge spears of it shooting down at irregular intervals.
“One day,” Sunset said, digging out her phone, and finding she had no fewer than 10 new text messages, three missed calls, and two voicemails—all from the girls, of course. “Why can't I just have one day?”
“Uh oh,” Zephyr said, catching a glimpse of the phone. “What’s shakin’, bacon-hair?”
“You and your cheesy jokes,” she said, rising fully and dusting herself off. “Well, this has been really nice, but I’m afraid the universe still has it in for me.”
He smiled and started reaching to pick up the unclaimed picnic food. “Well honey, don’t you worry; The Zephyr will be right here waiting when you get done saving the world again.”
She smirked, then set off for the parking lot, and her waiting motorcycle.
“Y’know, you look pretty hot when you head out to kick monster butt,” Zephyr called after her.
She turned back, and gave him a blown-kiss and a wink. “You better believe it.”
Soon enough, she was gone in a streak of blazing light and burning rubber, leaving Zephyr to stare in disbelief.
“So not messing this one up,” he said to himself.