//------------------------------//
// Guitar//Solo 
// Story: Love’s a Witch (and a She-Demon, Too) 
// by RB_ 
//------------------------------//

Who would want to do something to them? Sunset could think of three people. It was a long shot, she knew it, but… well, she didn’t have many other ideas.

It had taken a while to find them; she’d had to ask around. Everyone knew they were still in Canterlot, but precious few seemed to have any idea of where.

Thank Celestia for the internet, then. She’d put a post up on MyStable that night; by noon the next day, she’d gotten a sighting. 

And so it was that Sunset found herself skulking around the mall at noon on a Saturday, alone, with the collar of her jacket pulled up. Her eyes shifted from side to side, scanning the passers-by.

It being a Saturday, the place was packed with people. She had to bob and weave through the small crowds, their conversations and the rustling of cheap plastic bags fading into white noise as she passed. Eventually, after about fifteen minutes of searching, she ended up in the food court, which was where she finally found who she was looking for.

Well, two thirds of them, anyway. Good enough. Her hands curled into fists in the pockets of her jacket, and she let a little bit of that old, pre-Fall Formal Sunset slip back into her stride.

“Hey. You two,” she said, coming up to their table and slapping her hand down on the edge of it. “We need to talk.”

Sonata blinked, a french-fry dipped in Celestia-knew-what halfway to her mouth. Aria looked similarly startled… for a second, before her expression twisted into a scowl.

“Sunset Shimmer.”

Sunset grabbed a chair and pulled it over, steel legs squealing against the floor. She sat down, putting her elbows on the table and folding her hands in front of her face.

She and Aria glared at one another for a while. Sonata slowly put the french-fry in her mouth.

“Well?” Aria eventually said. “What do you want?” She snorted. “Did you come here to apologize for ruining our lives or something? Because it’s not accepted.”

“No,” Sunset said. “I came here to find out what you’re up to.”

“Oh, that’s easy!” Sonata chirped. “We’re up to being homeless.”

Aria shot her a glare. “Sonata!”

“What? We are!”

“O… kay,” Sunset said. Her glare wavered a little. “Not the answer I was expecting. You’re homeless? Like actually homeless.”

“Yeah!” Sonata picked up another fry and gestured with it. “Since Friday. Adagio kicked us out of the apartment again.”

Sunset’s glare must have wavered a little too much, because Aria rolled her eyes.

“Don’t get the bleeding heart routine going,” she said, waving a hand. “This happens all the time. She’ll let us back in once she gets tired of Chinese food. I’m the one who shops, and Sonata’s the only one who knows how to cook.”

“That’s… still,” Sunset said. “Have you at least got somewhere to sleep?”

Sonata started to say something, but Aria cut her off with a glare.

“We’ve got a place,” she said, in a manner that made it clear that the conversation was ending there. “So no. We’re not ‘up to’ anything.”

She kicked her feet up on the table. She and Sonata shared a glance. She rolled her eyes.

“But, y’know, if we were up to something—”

“Which we aren’t!” Sonata hastily added. “But—”

“—what do you think we’d be up to, exactly?”

Sunset glanced at the pair of them, weary.

“Why do you want to know?” she asked.

“Because we’re bored.”

“Very bored.”

“And your suffering amuses us.”

“Because you’re the worst.”

They both nodded in agreement.

This time it was Sunset’s turn to roll her eyes. She sighed.

“Someone smashed our band’s instruments yesterday. The Fall Formal’s in two days, and we were supposed to play, but there’s no way that’s happening now. A couple days before that, they wrecked Twilight’s locker. And before that, they vandalized my apartment’s door, and they messed up my desk the same way.”

Aria snorted. “That’s it? Give us some credit, Sunset. We’re sirens. Random acts of petty vandalism aren't our style.”

“Yeah!” Sonata said. “We’re, like, nature’s egotists!”

“When we get our revenge against you and your stupid friends,” Aria continued, “you’ll know.”

Sunset let out a huff. “I’ll be sure to keep that in mind.”

“You’d better.”

A few moments of tense silence followed.

“So someone smashed the things you used to make music, huh?” Aria said. “I can’t imagine what that must feel like.”

Sunset’s palm ran down her face. “This was a waste of time. Aria, give me your arm.”

“Why?”

“Just do it.”

Sonata and Aria glanced at one another. They shrugged. Aria stuck her arm towards Sunset.

Sunset gently—but forcefully—wrapped her hand around Aria’s wrist, while her other hand went to the pendant at her neck. Her eyes flashed white for a split second.

Aria raised an eyebrow, but didn’t say anything. Sunset released her wrist, apparently satisfied (though giving her an odd look in the process) and turned to Sonata.

“Your turn.”

The procedure was repeated. (“Ooh! Tingly!” was Sonata’s reaction.)

“Well, that settles that,” Sunset said, once she was done. She stood up, the legs of her chair complaining as they scraped across the floor. “Thanks. See you around.”

“Yeah, sure, whatever,” Aria replied, waving a hand. “Don’t let us keep you.”

Aria watched as Sunset beat her retreat. Her eyes narrowed.

“…Something’s up with her,” Aria said, after she’d faded from view. “You could feel it, right? Her, not the arm thing.”

“Well, duh,” Sonata replied. “D’you think we should tell Adagio?”

Aria mulled it over for a moment.

“Nah,” she said, eventually. “Screw her.”

A silence descended over their table.

It was short-lived.

“Hey Aaaariaaaaa…”

Aria pinched her eyes shut and sighed. “What is it, Sonata.”

Sonata had a shark-like gleam in her eyes. She’d smelled blood.

“You know what school dances have?”

“…Free food?”

“Free food.”





“Sweet! Free food!”

Spike the dog bounded across the floor of Twilight’s bedroom and scooped up the potato chip in his mouth just before Twilight could pick it up. He scampered away just as quickly with his prize, curling up on his bed on the other side of the room.

Twilight looked down at her canine companion, amused. “Spike, all your food is free.”

“Yeah, but this was liberated from the control of my human overlords. So it’s, like, twice as free!”

She rolled her eyes, but she was smiling. “You shouldn’t eat those, you know. They’re not good for you.”

“Yeah, I know,” he said, his speech slightly muffled by the bit of chip still in his mouth. He swallowed. “But potato chips taste way better than kibble.”

Well, she couldn’t argue with him there.

It was a Saturday in the Sparkle household, and for Twilight, that meant she would spend most of the day doing her homework. She liked getting it done at the beginning of the weekend; it meant she wouldn’t have anything hanging over her head for the rest of it, and that always felt good.

She had a lot of it this week, though, and it felt like it was taking twice as long as it normally did. She glanced at the clock to discover that, yes, it was only the afternoon.

She sighed. It didn’t help that she had more on her mind than just homework.

“Hey, Spike. Should I wear my white blouse tonight, or my red one?”

“What’s the occasion?”

“Sunset’s coming over for dinner,” Twilight said.





Long shot number two was easier to track down. If Trixie was anything, it was easy to find.

She’d been advertising a show in the park for the past week, which was where Sunset found her: a portable stage set on the grass just inside the park entrance, attended by five rows of folding chairs, with Trixie herself quickly adding a sixth. Sunset was in luck; she was still getting set up.

“Hey! Trixie!” she called out as she jogged over.

Trixie looked up with a start, then composed herself. By the time Sunset made it over, she was standing tall: her usual, cock-sure self.

“Sunset!” she declared. “What a pleasant surprise! You came for Trixie’s show! …But you’re early.”

“Not here for the show, sorry,” Sunset apologized. “I’ve got plans.”

“Oh.” 

Trixie seemed to deflate a bit. She turned back to her chairs. 

“So,” she said, unfolding one with a jerk. “What do you want, then?”

“I just need to talk to you for a minute.”

“Trixie does not appreciate the interruption.”

“It’ll be quick, I promise.”

Trixie sighed. “Fine. Go ahead.”

Sunset ran through what had been happening. By the time she had finished, Trixie’s attention was no longer on her work.

“How awful!” she said. “And you really have no idea who could be behind it?”

“No,” Sunset said. “But that’s kind of why I’m here…”

Trixie’s tone turned flat. “Why does Trixie get the feeling you didn’t come here to ask for help investigating.”

“I don’t want you to get the wrong idea—”

“You would dare accuse the Great and Powerful Trixie of such a vile act!? After all we’ve been through together?”

“I’m not accusing you of anything,” Sunset said, holding her hands up in an appeasing gesture. “I really don’t think this was you. I just want to use my magic to make absolutely sure.”

Trixie glared at her. “Trixie is hurt.”

“I’ll make it up to you at some point. Please?”

“Fine. Use your freaky mind-powers on Trixie. Trixie has nothing to hide.”

“Alright. Give me your arm.”

A moment later, and Sunset’s eyes faded back to normal. She let Trixie’s arm drop; the girl cradled it against her chest.

“Satisfied?”

Sunset nodded. “Completely. Thanks, Trixie.”

Trixie frowned, but didn’t say anything else to object. Sunset turned to go… but then smiled.

“Hey,” she said. “You know, with the Rainbooms out of commission, I bet the school is scrambling to find a replacement act…”





“Ah. Should’ve guessed,” Spike said. “Red one. Definitely.”

“Thanks.” She went back to her work, then paused. “Do you think Rarity would disown me if she knew I took fashion advice from a dog?”

“Not from me. I’m her favourite canine.”

“Fair enough.”

That minor dilemma solved, she went back to her work. Another hour passed.

Scratching off the last of her answers, Twilight set her pencil down (it clicked against the desk in an extremely satisfying manner) and stood up. She raised her arms into the air and stretched, then headed over to her wardrobe.

It was an older thing. Walnut. Her room was technically in the attic, you see, and so it didn’t have a closet. She made do, though.

She pulled the wardrobe’s door open, so that it formed a partition between her and Spike, and began to change.

“Hey, Spike?” she asked, after a few moments.

He’d been resting his head on the plush fabric of his bed. Now, he looked up. “Yeah?”

“You’re okay with this, right? Me and Sunset, I mean.”

“What, that you’re dating?”

“Yeah.”

“Why are you asking me now?”

“No reason. Just popped into my head.”

Spike scratched at his ear with his hind leg.

“Well, you two are pretty much perfect for each other. I mean, you’re both super smart, you’re both nice, you both give really great ear rubs…”

“Spike…”

“No, but really,” Spike said. “As long as she makes you happy, I’m cool with it.”

He paused.

“She does make you happy, right?”

Twilight’s answer was immediate and affirmative.

“Then what’s there to not be okay about?”

When there was no response, Spike tilted his head to the side. 

“Uh… Twi? You okay?”

“You know what? You’re right,” she said. “Thanks, Spike.”

Spike tilted his head the other way.

“For what?”





Well, Trixie had been a bust. On to the next, and this one really was a long-shot. It was also her last-ditch effort.

They also hadn’t been hard to find. Sunset made a mental note to freak out about how easy it was to hunt people down using the internet later. This was getting ridiculous. 

The arcade was loud, in spite of its few patrons. Machines buzzed and beeped and clamoured for her attention in the dim light. People had been saying the place would go out of business every year for the last decade, but it hadn’t yet. Maybe it never would.

And, over in the corner, crouched over a pinball table and surrounded by a weak but still respectable crowd, were Snips and Snails.

Sunset walked over and joined the back of the crowd. Snails was playing, and—Sunset wasn’t really familiar with pinball, but from the reactions of his audience and the huge number on the points display, she guessed he was doing well. 

That, and Snips’ cheering. The kid had lungs, she’d give him that.

“What’s going on?” Sunset whispered to the person next to her, a teen she didn’t recognize.

“The orange kid’s going for the high score,” he whispered back. “They say it hasn’t been beaten in over five years.”

Sunset’s eyebrows raised. “Huh.” A glance at her phone told her she had plenty of time, so she stood back and watched.

As it turned out, she didn’t have to wait long. With a loud buzz, the ball dropped through the hole at the bottom of the machine, and “GAME OVER” flashed on the display.

There was a disappointed groan from the audience, and from Snips himself. Snails just shrugged.

“You were so close!” Snips said. “C’mon, one more go, I know you’ll get it!”

“Can’t,” Snails replied. He turned his pocket out. “I’m all out of quarters.”

“Aw.”

As the crowd dispersed, Sunset spoke up.

“Hey. You two.”

They turned. Something gleamed in Sunset’s fingers—a quarter.

“We need to talk.”

The metallic light reflected in their eyes.

“W-whadda want to know, Sunset?” Snips stammered. 

She filled them in, watching their reactions.

“Your instruments got smashed?” Snails said, in his normal, slow, methodical way. He sounded genuinely astonished.

“I’m guessing that’s a ‘no’, then.”

“Of course!” Snips said. “Why would we do something like that? We love your band!”

“Come on. You two are the entire school’s go-to underlings.  You used to be my go-to underlings.”

“We prefer the term ‘henchmen’.” Snails said.

“Of course you do. Look, I don’t think it was you, but I need to be sure. Just give me your arms.”

“…Is this the part where you give us a crazy telepathic brain-scan to see if we’re telling the truth?”

“Well, it’s not really telepathy, it’s…”

Sunset sighed. She’d forgotten who she was dealing with for a moment, there.

“Yes. This is the part where I do the magical brain scan.”

“Cool!”





Twilight stepped out from behind the closet door.

“How do I look?”

“You look great,” Spike said. “If I had thumbs, they’d be up right now.”

Twilight chuckled.

Downstairs, the doorbell rang.

“Oh!” Twilight jumped. “That must be Sunset.”

“Go get her, tiger!” Spike said, as Twilight hurried to her door. Once she was gone, and the sound of her footsteps had made it safely down to the first floor of the house, Spike turned towards her desk.

“Alright, so something’s bothering her,” Spike said to himself. “Never fear. Detective Spike is on the case!”

He trotted across the room, his close-trimmed claws clicking against the floorboards, until he reached Twilight’s backpack. Getting up on his hindlegs, he grabbed the handle in his teeth and pulled it over.

“Let’s see what we’re dealing with…”

He unzipped the bag and began rifling through its contents. As he got deeper into it, more and more of his head slipped inside the bag.

It was almost nostalgic. Twilight didn’t take him with her to school as much anymore.

His little doggy legs twitched. He’d found something.

Backing out, he laid the piece of paper on the floor and smoothed it out with his paws. It was a physics test, by the looks of things.

“Oof. Yeah. That’d do it,” Spike said, looking at the big “C” written in red at the top of the exam paper. “That settles it. Someone’s getting extra snuggles tonight.”





“Sunset!”

“Sorry I’m late,” Sunset said, standing in the doorway. “I was doing some asking around.”

“About—” Twilight glanced over her shoulder and lowered her voice. “About the vandal?”

“What’s with the subterfuge?” Sunset asked. “You haven’t told your parents?”

“Of course I haven’t told my parents!” Twilight hissed. “Are you nuts? My mom would march straight to the school and demand I get police protection!”

Sunset raised an eyebrow. “Really? Your mom always struck me as pretty easy-going.”

“Not when it comes to me! I tried to tell her about what happened at the Friendship Games when I transferred and she was halfway to phoning our lawyer before I convinced her not to sue both of our schools for negligence! I don’t even want to think about what she would have done if I’d told her about the whole demon-witch thing!”

“Okay.” Sunset nodded. “Point taken.”

Twilight sighed. “Right. So, did you learn anything?

“Nada. Although I might have inadvertently solved the problem of who’s going to be replacing the Rainbooms at the Fall Formal, so that’s something.”

Twilight sighed. “I guess we’re still at square one.”

“Yeah…”

Crickets chirped.

“Hey, soooo,” Sunset began, her eyes looking up and to the left, then down and to the left, as if tracking some nonexistant bird. “Since we can’t play at the Fall Formal…” 

She grinned. “You want to go?”

Twilight snorted, and grinned back. “Of course I’ll go to the Fall Formal with you, Sunset. I mean, who else would I go with? Rarity?”

“I mean, I wouldn’t blame you. Have you seen those hips?”

They shared a laugh. She had, in fact, seen those hips.

Sunset clasped Twilight’s hand.

“This is going to be great. I promise.”

And then her eyes began to glow white.

Twilight’s eyes widened for a moment, and a split second later she jerked her arm out of Sunset’s grasp, her elbow hitting the side of the doorframe with a crack. She cried out.

The light in Sunset’s eyes faded, replaced by one of surprise and concern.

“Crap—are you okay?” She started forwards, but Twilight shrunk back. Unsure of what to do, she froze.

“I don’t—I don’t know how that happened. I’ve been using it all day, I must have just activated it automatically… Did—did I make you…?”

“I’m sorry,” Twilight gasped. “I didn’t mean to… you just surprised me. You just surprised me, that’s all.”

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” she said. “Yeah, I’m fine. Sorry.”

“No, it’s my fault. I don’t know what happened.”

“It’s fine, Sunset.”

They stood out on the porch for a while longer, neither of them really sure what to do or say to the other. The worms came back.

But, after what felt to them like an hour, but was really less than a minute, Twilight was the one to break the silence, relaxing her posture a bit.

“C’mon.” She flashed Sunset a smile. “Let’s go eat.”

Sunset smiled back.

“Sounds good.”