//------------------------------//
// The Plot Thickens 
// Story: Diplodocus 
// by The Cloptimist 
//------------------------------//

It was, apparently, the biggest tent that had ever been erected in all of Equestria. It was huge, so huge that the word "tent" hardly seemed to be a fair description at all; the canopy was so high that it comfortably enveloped whole trees and even a small cottage under its red-and-white striped sky, and it was so wide that, if somepony started out next to one wall, it would take a couple of minutes to reach the opposite side. And that was without having to trot around the huge, shallow crater that had been dug right in the middle.

Petunia Paleo wiped her forehead on her sleeve, being careful not to disturb the tiny blade clutched in her teeth as she delicately chipped away the dirt around the bone.

"She's amazing," whispered the intern, watching with bated breath from the other side of the crater, as the dirt gradually fell away to reveal the smooth, pristine surface.

"Best in Equestria," replied Professor Fossil, leaning forward on her cane, rapt with attention. "There's literally nopony I'd trust ahead of her. Wish I could still get her to come out on my digs, but she left me in the dust years ago. Still, I've never seen anypony with such talent... When she invited me to come along, even though this isn't my area, well, just the chance to see her in the field again... Look at that! Celestia take me, it's like she's sandblasted the dirt right off that bone, quicker than a manticore on a chicken wing... And I'll bet you she hasn't left even one tiny scratch."

As they watched, Petunia paused for a moment, and sat back on her haunches, putting the blade back in her tool roll before gesturing to one of the unicorns sat around her.

"She devised this technique, you know," said Professor Fossil, watching the inaudible discussion as the intern nodded enthusiastically. "Have a pair of unicorns, one of them runs the spell to scan the dirt and let Professor Paleo know exactly where she needs to dig, and how hard, and in what direction all the dirt and stone is packed, so the forces at work don't cause damage. And then the specially trained earth pony digs in exactly the right place. Better and more precise than any spell, if you know what you're doing."

Petunia waved the second unicorn over, and said something they couldn't hear, accompanied by lots of furrowing of brows and waving of hooves. The unicorn bowed her head and closed her eyes. Her horn began to glow a bright golden yellow, and after a moment, a picture of the bone appeared in mid-air, spinning slowly as Petunia studied it intently, picked out in three-dimensional glowing yellow magical light inside a transparent representation of the surrounding rock.

Petunia stared at the rotating image for a moment more, and then nodded to the unicorn, who shut off the spell. She leaned down to her tool roll and picked out a tiny trowel with her teeth, and wasted no time in bending back down to her work, plunging the blade into the earth and then manipulating the trowel with astonishing speed and dexterity, her muzzle almost a blur as the soil seemingly melted away.

She sat up and wiped her brow again. "Caudal vertebra number 74, exposed anterior, clear," she called out, triumphantly, "extract and pack! Jackets at the ready! Brush, get over here!"

The intern snapped to attention, grabbing her sheaf of notes. "That's my cue," she said, as she hurried off, and Professor Fossil nodded.

The old professor watched as the intern made her way around the edge of the crater to the other side, where she engaged in an animated conversation with Petunia, who was gesturing and pointing out more half-exposed bones. Even though Professor Fossil's area of expertise was archaeology rather than palaeontology, she could tell the dig was going very well, and proceeding very quickly. Partly, she could deduce this from the sheer amount of bones that had already been painstakingly dug from the ground and carefully packed and sent back to Canterlot, and partly because...

There was another bright yellow gleam from the other side of the crater, this time much larger than before, and an audible gasp went up from all the ponies watching.

A glowing hologram of a life-size diplodocus skeleton, three-quarters complete, made of magical light, appeared above the dig site. Professor Fossil smiled to herself as the new bone appeared alongside the massive image and then flew into position, flashing blue and yellow as it slotted itself into place to further build the skeleton. The intern stared for a moment, and then shook her head, as if coming to her senses despite the enormous glowing dinosaur standing in mid-air in front of her. She quickly scribbled something on her pad before the spell ended, the dim light inside the tent seeming even dimmer now that the magical glow was gone.





Applejack had had to grow up fast, and it hadn't been easy, but she always tried her best not to begrudge those who hadn't had to suffer the things she'd suffered in her life. Still, she mused, as she stared out of the guest bedroom window high in Starlight's castle tower, perhaps she'd had to learn patience, too.

Granny Smith had taught her patience, for sure. Actually taught it to her, sat her down and explained why she mustn't overwater the crops, why she had to wait for a seedling to grow before pulling it up, why she had to miss school to help with the harvest... why she and her brother had to work to save the farm, because there was nopony else was gonna do it, but why it would be worth it.

Her brother, well, that had taught her some patience, too. Having nopony except him to talk to for hours on end had been enough of a chore when he wouldn't shut up talking, but once he became withdrawn and quiet and barely said more than a word at a time, it had been so much harder. It had taken a lot of frustration, for both of them, and some teenaged shouting fits before she'd come to accept that her brother was still in there, still thinking as deeply about things as ever, and that he just needed some patient coaxing to reveal his feelings.

And then her sister, well... that had needed patience, too. Not just because she was likely to burn the farm to the ground or fall down a hole if Applejack left her unsupervised for ten minutes. Not just because her attempts to get her cutie mark had inevitably ended in failure, needing Applejack to console her and explain how it all worked, night after night after night. But mostly, well...

Applejack sighed, wincing a little.

...mostly because Apple Bloom had had the childhood Applejack never had, and yet she'd never seemed to understand what an amazing opportunity that was. And Applejack had had to bite her tongue and never call her out for it, because that was the whole point of working so hard to give her a better life, better than she and Big Mac and Granny Smith had had, and one sour or spiteful word could have undone everything. And Apple Bloom had grown up happy and loved and protected, and it had all been worth it, but Celestia dang it, that had been one big long lesson in patience.

Perhaps, she thought to herself, she'd even started to seek out situations that called for her to show that patience. Perhaps she reveled in it a bit too much for her own good.

Perhaps she was making excuses for pegasi who promised you a week of cuddles and kisses by the fireplace, and all the good stuff that comes with those things, and then up and disappeared on you for the whole of that week, and then another whole week after that, and left you all alone.

Rainbow Dash was infurating, she thought. There was no two ways about that. Stubborn, proud, always eager to commit to some dumbass idea that happened to have flitted through her feathery brain that morning, always pushing the limits, trying out the impossible, coming home with bruises and scars and sore everything and needing Applejack's tender loving care before zooming off to the next stupid thing.

And Applejack was always waiting for her. Every time, without fail, waiting faithfully for her Dashie to come back to her.

Just like today. And yesterday. And a week ago. And two weeks ago. And now here she was, about a hundred letters later, after a bunch of tears, and a whole lot of Starlight's coffee, and her own... beverages.

And still no Rainbow Dash.

She snorted to herself, straightening her kerchief around her neck, realizing she'd been chewing the braids of her now-dampened mane. She looked out at Ponyville, spread beneath her, the little ponies far below attending to their daily chores, meeting and chatting and feeling happy and loved and protected, knowing that they were being watched over. Quite literally, thought Applejack, and allowed herself a smile.

If she'd chosen a guest bedroom on the other side of the tower, she'd have been able to see Sweet Apple Acres from her window. The lush green orchards she knew like the back of her hoof, the beautiful trees stretching into the distance, the familiar warm red-painted wooden walls of the barns... it was usually a sight that would warm her heart. She felt as though she could hear the chickens, smell the soil, taste the apple blossom on the air... even if she knew she was too far away for any of it to be real, she still always felt like she was close to home. When Rainbow Dash had asked if they could live together, there hadn't been a lot of talk as to where they'd settle down. There had only ever been one choice, and so it was. Their home - their true home.

Applejack smiled again for a moment, and then frowned as she went over what she'd just thought about in her mind.

"Where they'd settle down."

But they weren't settled down. Even now, even with her hip, even after all her years giving everything she had for everypony else and giving her heart over wholly to Rainbow Dash, here she was. Looking out of a castle window, alone.

This time, she'd chosen a room with a window facing the other way. She hated the sight of that massive striped tent, bright and garish and horrible, a pockmark on the landscape, an all-too-visible reminder of how she wasn't in her cottage right now, an unwelcome thought which felt like a knife to her ribs every time it reared its ugly head.

The castle was bad enough by itself, because every time she even so much as stepped on the crystal floors, the feeling under her hooves and the sound echoing from the walls called her back to another time, so many years before, a time when she could head through those very same doors at the end of the corridor and talk to Twilight... talk about some villain threatening Equestria, talk about some experiment she could pretend she understood, talk about the farm, about family, about nothing. Maybe there'd be an emergency, a meeting at the map table, a chance to steal secret glances at... certain ponies, despite knowing they'd never feel the way she did. 

Or maybe she'd imagine a different time, less far away in the past, once she'd discovered that those certain ponies actually did feel that way, and she had the memories to prove it...

Applejack shook her head, and looked out at nothing in particular, and again noted the lack of Sweet Apple Acres in her field of vision. Everything was strange now. Twilight had betrayed her... no, too cruel. Twilight had let her down. Rainbow had let her down. Fluttershy and Pinkie were away doing their own family things. Spike had gone home, Starlight was busy with the school, and she was stuck up here, not being able to stomach looking out of a window because of a great big stupid tent.

Even if the tent had been invisible - Applejack briefly wondered if Starlight knew how to do that, before marshalling her thoughts - well, she still found it hard to go to Sweet Apple Acres at all right now, even to visit with her family, fuss over the foal, offer a helping hoof with the chores for old times' sake. It was too hard, knowing she couldn't head on up to her own place at the end of the day, get away from the world.

And still she could have coped with it, if only her Dashie had been by her side.

But her Dashie wasn't by her side. And she wasn't answering her letters, or at least not quick enough any more, some lame excuse about not having a dragon or a unicorn with the mail spell and having to wait for the mailpony and being stuck at the compound because the Wonderbolts were all sworn to secrecy about this latest stunt and it wouldn't be fair to everypony else and blah blah blah, a whole lot of excuses and fancy words to avoid saying when she'd be coming home.

"Come on home, Dashie," said Applejack, surprising herself when she realised she'd said it out loud, and then looking up at the clouds.

"...Come on home," she said, louder, more forcefully. "Ah need you, sugarcube. Where are you?"





"Another great day, team," said Petunia, looking at the sketch pinned up against the wall of the tent, her life's greatest achievement. The intern had done a great job, the dinosaur's long, skeletal whip of a tail slowly giving way to muscle and tendons and flesh and scales, culminating with a flourish, a fully-formed head, a long-dead face alive again, staring out from the paper with doleful eyes. "We'll leave it for tonight, I think, and start up again in the morning. And... well done, everypony."

The tent quickly cleared, a chorus of "yes ma'am" and "sure, Professor" giving way to murmurs and laughs and the sound of hoofbeats and the noise of ponies tidying up equipment. Within what seemed like a few seconds, the tent was almost deserted. The only ponies left were Petunia, still looking at the drawing, lost in her thoughts, and the intern, who held back, waiting for an opportunity to speak which never came.

The intern didn't know how long the two of them stayed like that, standing in complete silence, the sun long since lowered, its light no longer shining through the fabric of the tent. Eventually, the intern decided to make her move, taking a deep breath and walking into the light of the single remaining lamp. Her shadow reared large over the drawing, and Petunia started as she snapped out of her thoughts.

"Um... Professor?", asked the intern, timidly.

"Yes, Brush, what is it?"

"I have a question. A-about the dig."

"Sure," said Petunia, kindly. For all her intimidating air, her reputation for brilliance, the professor always tried her best to remain approachable, remembering how she herself had felt on her first real dig, terrified to interrupt. "What's on your mind?"

"Well... it seems like it's all going to plan... I mean, of course it's all going to plan, you planned it!", said the intern, not sure whether to laugh at her own attempted joke. "But we're exactly on schedule. And so, um, well, I was just kind of, you know, wondering, well... I mean, I thought I should say... If you don't think I'm rude for asking, that is, uh..."

Petunia gave what she hoped was a reassuring smile. "What's the matter, Brush?"

"We've got the tent for another week, but we're almost done...", blurted the intern. "And it's so big! I mean, this thing seems bigger than we need it to be... It covers the cottage over there, but our dig... it doesn't really go near the path at all. It just kind of feels like..."

The intern tailed off, but Petunia nodded and picked up her train of thought. "...Like this is too much? Like we have the site for longer than we need, and we've put up the biggest tent in the world when we didn't need to?"

"Um, well... Yes."

Petunia tapped her hoof against her chin. "You know how much of a supporter Princess Twilight Sparkle has been. To the faculty, to palaeontology, to science in Equestria. She's keener than any professor to read all about the latest discoveries and developments in almost any field, and her financial and logistical support... She puts her money where her mouth is."

"Of course," said the intern, confused. "But I don't see how-"

"So when we told the Princess what we'd found... Well, it couldn't have been more than ten minutes before we had a letter back from her. She invited me to the palace, to meet her and explain what we needed, first-hoof."

"Wow," said the intern, forgetting her attempted professionalism. "The Princess called on you personally?"

"She did," said Petunia, not quite excising all traces of pride from her voice. "But it was... unusual. I've met with her before, discussed projects, even requested formal approval. This time... This time, it was different."

"How do you mean, different?"

"Well, for a start, the speed of her reply, the enthusiasm for our discovery... she seemed like she was as keen as we were to get started, and yet she asked me to come to the palace three days later."

"I mean... she is pretty busy, Professor."

"Right. But then, when I got there... Rainbow Dash was there, too."

"Now you're just name-dropping!", giggled the intern, before her eyes widened with shock. "I'm sorry! I didn't mean... I just got a bit excited there, and..."

"Don't worry," smiled Petunia. "But you won't make it too far in this line of work if you're too easily impressed by meeting the heroes of Equestria." She leaned in close to the intern and whispered with a wink: "...Fundraising."

The intern giggled again, and this time she didn't apologise.

Petunia continued. "So, Rainbow Dash was in conversation with the Princess as I was shown in, and... I don't know how to describe it, but the whole thing felt strange somehow. I barely started my pitch when the Princess offered a signed permit, with her full financial and legal support, to erect a tent on the site. And when I say a tent, I mean this tent. She specified the dimensions, the exact positioning... Princess Twilight set the exclusion zone herself, wider than we asked for."

"...Why?" blurted the intern.

"I didn't question it, and neither should anyone else. Not if they want their dig paid for," said Petunia, scratching her head. "All I know is that she'd already marked it out on the map, exactly where we needed to set this thing up, all ready to go, by the time I got there."





"Huh? Something who hasn't thought through?"

"Did you forget to knock, airpony?", said Captain Scootaloo, glaring crossly over her shades at Pickle Barrel, who suddenly felt very small in the Captain's very big office.

"No ma'am! Sorry, ma'am!", said Pickle, breaking into a stiff salute.

"That's better," smirked Scootaloo, covering over the map and letters that had been covering her desk. "What do you want?"

"I just came to drop off the updated rotas for tomorrow, now that Rainbow Dash isn't going to be there to direct us any more. But then your door was open, and I heard you muttering to yourself..."

"I do do that," said Scootaloo. "Well, thank you, airpony."

"Will that be all, ma'am?", asked Pickle.

"Yes, thank you," said Scootaloo, and then paused as Pickle saluted. "Wait, no. There was one other thing. Close the door."

"Yes, ma'am," said Pickle, doing as she was told. "What is it, Captain?"

"I need you to make sure that that doesn't reach the press," said Scootaloo.

"That what doesn't reach the press, ma'am?"

"Crash not staying here," said Scootaloo, lifting a mug of cold coffee to her lips and wincing as she took a gulp. "I know I gave orders not to tell, but I wanted to underline that I need total secrecy on this. As far as the rest of Equestria knows, I want everypony believing she's still on camp, working on this stunt."

"Yes ma'am. Um..."

"No, you may not ask why. When Crash is involved, and there's an order for secrecy, I've learned never to question it. It could be the fate of Equestria at stake - "

- Pickle gulped nervously -

" - or a surprise birthday party," continued Scootaloo, still in the same stiff military tone, "or some other crazy scheme that hasn't been properly thought through. It's not for us to judge, airpony."

"Yes ma'am. So, uh... is that what you were..."

Scootaloo sighed, rubbing her temples with her hooves. "Permission to speak freely, airpony."

"Well, ma'am... since when did Rainbow Dash ever think anything through? But she's the best! And... well, we're always grateful to her in the end."

"Anything that wasn't a flight plan, anyway," laughed Scootaloo, draining her coffee before grimacing again. "Ugh, cold. But, well, yeah. She's not just the most decorated flyer we've ever had, she's not just a hero of Equestria who happens to be best friends with the Princess... she's Rainbow Dash. Rainbow. Dash."

Scootaloo and Pickle shared a look, as they both wordlessly remembered the vital role Rainbow had played in their own lives.

"The Wonderbolts owe her. I owe her. You owe her. And the world owes her," said Scootaloo, finally breaking the silence. "So even if it turns out not to be some vital mission, even if it's just that she needs help with one more crazy plan, for old times' sake, well... what can I say?"

"Yes, ma'am," grinned Pickle, and saluted stiffly again.

"Dismissed," said Scootaloo, but Pickle noticed she was still smiling.





"Ah heard she was due back," said Applejack. "Ah don't know why this keeps on happenin', but ah was most definitely told she'd be back."

"I don't know what to tell you," said Sandbar. "Yona will be back with lunch later... Maybe you could ask her?"

"Or maybe you can tell me when Rarity will be back in town," said Applejack, grumpily, before noting Sandbar's dismayed expression. "Ah'm sorry, Sandbar, ah don't mean to be so sore with you. Ah'm just kinda upset. Ah always feel a mite strange talkin' to Rarity about personal stuff, for... well, for obvious reasons, an' ah don't feel it's right to go blabberin' on to you about mah feelins and whatever. But ah just really needed to talk to a friendly face, and ah wanted her advice, and ah'd kinda got mah self up hopin' to see Rarity... Well, here ah am, just an old mare goin' on about nothin'."

"It's fine, Applejack," said Sandbar. "It's always great to see you. Whenever any of our professors shows up, it's just a really nice surprise."

"You're a good young'un," grinned Applejack, straightening her hat. "Ah always did think you had good manners."

"Why don't you stick around?", asked Sandbar. "Yona will be back soon, and she's always happy to see you too. I can make some herbal tea, and I think we have some of Pumpkin's apricot fritters left from breakfast - they're nearly as good as Pinkie Pie's?"

"Aw, that's sweet, but ah really only stopped by on account of wantin' to talk to Rarity," smiled Applejack. "Ah suppose she's not aware of the whole situation with the tent and all?"

"Oh, no, she said she'd spoken to Rainbow Dash about it yesterday!", exclaimed Sandbar, cheerfully.

There was a pause, as the stallion became a nervous colt again, covering his mouth with his hoof, the color draining from his cheeks as Applejack grew progressively redder.

"Rainbow Dash spoke to Rarity?" snarled Applejack, pawing the ground in anger. "And she didn't come see me?"

"...Rainbow, or Rarity?", asked Sandbar, before quickly realising his mistake.

"Either one!" shouted Applejack. "You said Rarity was out of town. Are you lyin' to me?"

"I... uh... no?", said Sandbar, unconvincingly.

"Is she out of town, or not?"

"She is!" cried Sandbar. "That's true! We haven't seen her in a few days, she's just been writing letters!"

"But she's been talkin' to Rainbow Dash?"

"...no? I mean... I think I got that wrong. Yeah, I'm pretty sure I got the days mixed up, or... uh... I was thinking of a different pony. No, the more I think about it... Yeah! Sorry, I got that wrong. Rarity didn't say that."

"Why do ah get the feelin'," spat Applejack, as Sandbar nervously backed away, "that y'all are sellin' me a bunch o'hooey?"

"I don't know what you m-mean," stammered Sandbar, but Applejack cut him off.

"No. Ah'm done talkin' with you. Ah'm done talkin' with anypony who can't answer mah simple questions with a straight answer. Startin' right now, ah intend to go find out exactly what Rainbow Dash is doin', sneakin' around behind mah back and consortin' with MAH EX-MAREFRIEND?!"





Rarity looked at her hooves in the faint light of the spell, and allowed herself an inward smile. Twenty or thirty years of epic adventures, epic nights up sewing and stitching, and epic spa days, and her hooves were still as soft as the gentle blue light radiating from her horn.

Suddenly, her ears perked up, and without looking away from her hooves, she half-whispered quietly but firmly into the darkness.

"You're late."

There was no answer, but Rarity smiled again at the sound of an annoyed snort from the shadows.

"Very surreptitious, darling, I must say. Now... you're quite sure you weren't seen? You do have rather a habit of... standing out."

"I'm telling you," grinned Rainbow Dash as she emerged from the gloom, "I can be sneaky when I need to be. Pretty sure nopony even noticed me heading out of the Wonderbolts compound, never mind doubling back here. With all of... this", she snorted as she gestured around at the barely-visible tent canopy above them, "...yeah, I'm pretty sure this is the last place anypony would think to look for me."

"It's not anypony that concerns me," whispered Rarity, crossly. "It's Applejack. Tell me she didn't see you."

"Like I said," snorted Rainbow, barely keeping her voice low enough not to echo off the canvas walls of the massive tent. "I'm pretty sure nopony saw me."

"This will be bad enough however she finds out," muttered Rarity. "If she finds out by walking in on the two of us..."

"Yeah, well, we'd best hope she doesn't find out, then," scoffed Rainbow, as she turned to fly low along the path. "You agreed to come out here and meet me. I'm here, meeting you. You didn't have to come, but since you did, we're in it together. Now, are you coming?"

"I don't feel good about this," said Rarity, shaking her head, but following along nonetheless, her feeble light barely illuminating the path ahead.

Rainbow paused in mid-air, turning her head to give Rarity a wicked smirk and a raised eyebrow.

"Yeah? Well, you will," she grinned, and Rarity's heart skipped so suddenly she couldn't help but smile too.