//------------------------------// // 3. Dinner with the Stars // Story: Empathy for the Devil // by MarvelandPonder //------------------------------// Sunset Shimmer needed a break from magical nonsense and thought her girlfriend deserved one, too. Thank Celestia for date night. If anyone ever wanted to be treated like royalty in Canterlot City, there was Le Grande’s. Once upon a time, a Sunset fresh from the portal found, to her horror and shuddering dismay, that Canterlot City boasted the most mom-and-pop shops per capita. Ew. So, no, this mid-sized-to-backwater town would never be a stand-in for the grandeur of a mountainside castle-state, but for the refined eye, a precious few gems could be found hidden away. This might work, she thought, pulling up. Looking up at the mid-century modern facade, cursive name aglow in lights, Sunset prayed to Celestia this would be swanky enough to make Twilight feel like a queen. Not that her girlfriend would ever ask for it. Apart from their first date at the senior year Fall Formal, all their dates had been lowkey. Easy. Everything was easy, no matter where they went. Days spent lounging around the Canterlot Cosmopolitan Museum, nights out at the Mustang drive-in, a regular booth at Sugarcube Corner, cuddling on the rooftop of CHS (Sunset's favourite spot to stargaze with her girlfriend)—assuming the two of them left Sunset’s couch or Twilight’s lab. Okay, Sunset could admit she’d gone an itty bit lax on the proper courting etiquette that her days in the high-culture capitol of Equestria just about infused in her. She was glad she no longer had to think about ballroom dancing (as regrettably good as she was) or climbing the “ladder of matrimony” to woo her girlfriend, but Sunset’s old coltillion teacher would’ve been appalled. She could just hear Kibitz pedantiprattling now, loquacious and huffy as ever. What kind of eligible suitor was she? Where were her manners? How was she to represent the noble House of Celestia like this?  Then, twenty minutes of tut-tutting and browbeating Sunset would never get back. She hoped for his sake that Kibitz was cooler than she remembered. Regardless, when putting on pants (and keeping them on...) was the noblest card in her deck, fine, it was maybe time to step up her game for the girl in her life. And in the case of Le Grand’s, pay out.  The only inkling of regret nibbling at the back of Sunset’s mind came from handing her motorcycle keys over to the valet. He was none too impressed to see her roll up on it. Even as she strode through the double doors on Twilight’s arm, Sunset craned her neck back in case she could catch the fancy-pants in the act of scratching the glossy paint job. “You think the valet’s ever driven a motorcycle before?” “Oh, I’m sure he’ll figure it out,” Twilight murmured, tinkering with her perky bow-tie. The dress code at Le Grand’s all but explicitly required a tailor; lucky for them, they had Rarity. All else being equal, Sunset would’ve thought Twilight would show up in a dress, maybe something similar to the starry number she wore to the Fall Formal.  That was what Rarity had Sunset in: an off-the-shoulder sheath dress featuring a revealing slit at her lower thigh. Part of her Daydream collection. It beat sneakers and ripped jeans. But Sunset had to admit, that midnight blue tuxedo, sporting a diagram of the big dipper over the lapel and a magenta bow-tie, held Twilight’s every curve dearly.  Every time Sunset looked over at her, she couldn’t stop smiling, and that was an improvement over the giggling disasters she and Twilight were when they first saw each other in their evening wear. Sunset had wolf-whistled. Twilight had slapped a hand over her heart. They’d both probably been as rosy as Twilight’s bow-tie; Sunset only saw the light in her girlfriend’s eyes, like binary stars in purple galaxies swirling around the ether of space. That, and a hot body that gave Sunset ideas. Damn near enough ideas to make a girl think thoughts.  Had Sunset thought about it before? Every now and all the time. That suit wasn’t helping. Of course Twilight would be the one to get Sunset lost in thought... or spark a heat and curiosity down below. Holy Tartarus, Twilight.  If Rarity hadn’t been there, accessing these outfits and outfitting them with access to the Gala Galleria’s dressing rooms, Sunset couldn’t be trusted not to pull the dressing room curtains closed around the two of them. Down girl.  Twilight readjusted her bow-tie with too much concentration (even though it was already straight). An undeniable smirk popped up on Sunset’s face. Standing in a queue for the guy at the glossy wooden podium, Sunset leaned in toward her girlfriend’s ear and stopped herself from starting down a trail of kisses. “Hey. You look beautiful tonight. If you don’t know that yet, there’s other ways I can convince you.” Twilight suppressed a squawk and covered it up with a messy smile, bowling Sunset’s heart over in the process, to address the maître d'. “Hi there!” “Good evening, miss. Or, rather, misses!” A fine-suited, mustachioed gentleman with but only the fanciest of pants assessed them. His kind eyes and good-natured smile cut any tension like the ribbon at a grand opening ceremony. “How may I serve you tonight?” Sunset winked at Twilight. She suspected there was a joke in there somewhere about misses and casually calling her girlfriend the missus, but after that wink, Twilight’s complexion was already as purple and red as a bunch of boysenberries. Merciful, Sunset resigned herself to holding back her laugh. “Reservation for two, under Shimmer.” “Excellent, Miss Shimmer! I’ll have our very best wait staff take you to your table.” The host tapped a silver bell with a white-gloved finger. The pitch-perfect ring summoned Flash Sentry in snugly-fitted button-down.  The smugness in Sunset’s smile collapsed. “Flash?”  “Girls!” He startled, fumbling his silver platter until he got a good grip on it as a shield in front of his torso. “Oh! Wow, you’re here! Together! Uh... table? You want to go to one?” The host cleared his throat. Flash’s eyes magnetized to his boss’s as he corrected, “Rather, may I escort you to your table?” He smiled when he received a nod and a smirk from the head wait staff. Sunset really, truly tried not to snicker, following after him. A delicate perfume of extravagant foods grew more powerful as they ventured deeper into the tablecloth jungle. She whistled. “This is your part-time busboy job? You’ve been holding out on us, Sentry.” Flash seemed to remember how to hold the platter properly instead of covering himself, but he averted his eyes away from the two of them. “Sorry, I guess I should’ve told you. I would’ve warned you I work here if I knew you, uh—” He flustered himself and had to adjust his collar. Sunset didn't entirely understand what had him so frazzled. He'd been her wing-man in getting Twilight to go out with her in the first place, and he gave her nothing but his blessing and dorkish excitement when Sunset told him they were girlfriends. “Um… anyway. Have either of you heard from Timber yet?” Twilight bit her lip, and Sunset definitely didn’t notice just because her eyes had wandered over to her lips. “Not yet, but the girls are still out looking. We would have kept going with them, but Rarity said she wouldn’t hear of it. I think she would’ve added us to the list of missing friends if we skipped another date night for magical mishaps, especially when she put so much work into our outfits.” “Yeah, she’d have your heads. She’s nice like that.” Flash nodded. He himself had spent the better part of the afternoon before his busboy shift searching, only agreeing to leave the search to the superheroes when he realized Rainbow Dash could cover more ground in ten seconds than he could ever hope to in ten hours. The same was true for Twilight and Sunset. Really, the best help either of them could provide was Sunset attempting to use her empathy power on Flash’s phone itself to see if somehow the device had captured anything they hadn’t heard, but empathizing with inanimate objects proved impossible.  They arrived at an alcove of a booth parked behind a lushly lit fountain. The water feature trickled, a soft percussion to the live cello-piano duo stage-left. From what Sunset could see, they had the best seats in the house, and Sunset kind of wondered if it was because one of her best buds was their server. The boy in question rubbed his collared neck. “So, uh, I’ll grab your order and let you do, you know, private date stuff. In private. Uh… yeah.” Flush in the face, Flash kept his eyes occupied with a little notepad he took from the smock he'd tied around his waist. Sunset let Twilight order for both of them; Sunset knew her way around fine dining in Equestria, but human menus could still send her into an existential spiral if she wasn’t careful. It was also cute to hear Twilight’s voice in a different language, perfectly pronouncing Prench menu items (well, for all Sunset knew at least; she knew three different languages and none of them sounded this adorable). Flash took the menus with an apologetic grin and Sunset made sure to give him a fist-bump. “Thanks, dude.” He reciprocated before scurrying away to the fluttering double-doors Sunset could only guess led to the kitchen. The two of them took one look at each other and erupted into a burst of giggles. Sunset held her forehead. “Seriously, the one place in town my ex works…” “Chalk another one up to the law of trouble magnetism,” Twilight said, giggles overflowing. The classical cover of a pop song underscoring their chuckles made it seem like even more of a cosmic joke (especially considering the raunchy metaphors in the lyrics of that pop song; lucky the duo didn’t have a vocalist). “Well, you know what they say: the universe works in mysterious, scientifically fascinating ways. At this point, I’d be more worried if nothing went wrong around us!” Sunset groaned, but she hoped the smile on her face distracted from the betrayal of her blushing cheeks. “Yeah, sorry, that’s on me. I’ve got this nasty habit of taking everyone I ever care about down with me. I should really quit that.” She only noticed Twilight wasn’t laughing anymore when she saw the way her eyebrows met over her eyes, but by then it was too late to pass off that self-degradation as a hilarious joke—which would usually be easy since Sunset’s life was a hilarious joke. In the moments following, Sunset found her girlfriend’s gentle gaze impressing upon her. “I know I've asked already but… are you okay?” Twilight ventured. “Because I know you didn’t get a say in sharing your thoughts and feelings with the whole school, and that’s really invasive, and with Princess Twilight’s coronation—” She reached out to cup Sunset’s cheek. “Sunset, you know feeling a little jealous doesn’t make you a bad person, right?” Sunset’s sigh shriveled up into nothing. “Yeah… no…” She leaned her cheek into her girlfriend’s hand. Her eyes met the insatiable purple of Twilight’s. “I don’t want to want to be an alicorn princess of Equestria anymore. It’s too much like who I used to be, and it feels so wrong to be anything but happy for my best friend.” “But you are happy!” Twilight argued, then sank into her shoulders. “Um, sorry, those are your feelings. It’s hard to respect your privacy since I experienced them as my own. How do you empaths do it?” “With as much permission as I can get. Starting now.” She really meant that. Even in that moment, her geode’s magic collected in the palms of her hands, as if knocking at the door, asking for her to let it in. As long as she held it back, she had full control. Twilight offered a tender smile that, in the light of the candle between them, illuminated the dark. “My point was going to be that you are happy for her, from what I could feel. From everything you’ve shared with me about the Old You, the Old You wouldn’t be happy at all.” “Well, that’s true,” Sunset agreed, “the Old Me would go on an all-out rampage: Find an army of teenage slaves and alicorn principals, stage a coup d'état—lie, cheat, steal, barter, maybe a little unholy dark magic to top it all off.” She shrugged. “All in all? Some scheme that would honestly probably earn her a glamorous life-long stay in the castle dungeons. At least she’d finally get time to learn the harmonica.” “The princess me wouldn’t sentence you to learn the harmonica. Or to a dungeon!” Twilight assured her. “Even the Old You, who you aren’t anymore anyway.”  Sunset made a show of sighing, “And here I wanted to show off the Old Me’s excessive knowledge of silverware and table etiquette.” How much space in Sunset’s brain was wasted on knowing the difference between fancy pieces of cutlery? “Guess I’ll save the steamy stuff for our next date.” The real gag was that if Twilight, in all her organization-loving dorkishness, actually was impressed by silverware terminology, Sunset would’ve shifted from sadonic to showing off real fast. She left the bait out in case Twilight wanted her to expound.  A pretty pink coloured her girlfriend’s cheeks as she laughed. “Oh wow, I almost forgot you actually do know proper table etiquette, don’t you?” She shrugged in a guilty as charged manner. “Kind of have to when you’re a diplomat-in-training. High society is full of dumb pretenses, so I guess if you’re ever in a dire situation and you need to know a dessert fork from a salad fork, I’m your girl.” She winked. Twilight looked at her like she was the most interesting person in the room. “It’s still so surreal to picture you like that.” “Charming some snobby stiffs?” “I don’t know, living in a castle? Sword fighting lessons with actual royal guards? Meeting world leaders? All of it,” she admitted. “The magical unicorn part is almost easier.” “Yeah?” Sunset smirked, playing with one of the candles, watching the melted wax flow. “Why’s that?” “You’re so down to earth,” Twilight told her, and Sunset tried not to smile too wide or braggadociously that she’d take that compliment back. “Not that you can’t be down to earth and have an appreciation for high culture⁠—I mean, I can’t pretend my family’s not well-off, too, but I don’t know. It’s just. My more recent friends there notwithstanding, any classmates I had back at Crystal Prep who had that many family connections at country clubs or rode show ponies at their summer homes could be... “ Her eyes searched the ceiling. “I’m trying to find a nice way to say snobby stiffs.” Sunset cackled. “You get it! Oh my Celestia, I love you.” “Well, prep students and humourless dignitaries are both⁠—o-oh, love you, too—they’re both cut from the same cloth, a-heh.” Twilight twirled her hair tress around her finger. Those three words still had a thrill with them sometimes, even though they’d said it as friends before ever dating. “But your old life sometimes sounds like it’s straight out of the story books I read when I was little. It’s really cute to me that you’d much rather spend your Saturdays playing video games in sweats. That’s so you. I like that.” “Oh,” Sunset said, fumbling to not look as head-over-heels for this girl as she felt. Too late, screw it, she knows you have feelings. The fact that Sunset had been the one to say I love you for the first time as girlfriends had probably given it away. “Thanks, babe.” “Even if I didn’t know you at the time, I do know how you feel—and, um, not just because I actually know how you feel since I felt your feelings.” Watching Twilight get hung up on details made Sunset want to lean across the table and kiss her.  She sometimes did that, like when they were studying and Twilight spiraled around and around in theory four years above their current academic level. It was a fun way of pulling her back to earth. Effective, too.  Other times, like now, she waited for Twilight to find her own way through the thicket of the no doubt thousands of thoughts in her head. Twilight’s hands found their way back to fidgeting with her bow-tie. “I understand how you feel about the princess, I mean. It can be difficult when the point of comparison for everything you do is now a literal god-queen. What’s making the honour roll next to being the savior of a nation?” Sunset barked a laugh and an odd smile quirked up. She’d just never had it said so plainly before. “Oh-ho-ho. Oh yeah. I get you. If it’s not one princess’s shadow I’m in, it’s another. You’d think I’d be used to it, but the shadows somehow keep growing longer.” “Yeah, it’s exactly that!” Twilight brought her hands down from her forehead in a motion that seemed to say her thoughts were suddenly right in front of her. “How am I supposed to live up to all that?” Sunset laid out her hand. “Right? There isn’t even a monarchy here if I wanted to measure up to her, and teenagers can’t run for president! I feel like I’m always behind by default! Not that it’s a competition, or that I even want that much power, because I don’t, but I almost feel like I should. But also shouldn’t ever touch any power ever again?” She groaned into her hand. “Aaand I’m probably not even making sense...” Reaching to hold her arm, Twilight edged as close as the table between them would allow. “No, no, I understand what you mean completely! A-and she’s older than us, I’m decently sure, so gosh, does that mean I’m supposed to turn into her? Sunset, AP classes give me anxiety, and I’m good at those! Now I’m destined to—gah, I don’t even know! Charter world peace? Solve everyone’s friendship issues? Run for president?” Sunset chuckled at the mental image of President Sparkle enacting and mandating a nation-wide book-club. “I think it means whatever you do, you’re going to be breathtaking. But I don’t need to compare you to anybody to know that.”  She could see Twilight’s breath still catching as she readjusted her bowtie for air.  “Hey.” Sunset offered her hand across the table and softened her smile like the downy blanket they wrapped themselves in to watch movies on her couch. “The only reason I know you’ll be great is because I think you’re already amazing. You’re my princess, okay?”  Her smile grew as Twilight took her hand and squirmed, giggling, in her seat. “Sunny…” Sunset laughed too, but told her, “It’s true. Sappy, but I stand by it.” And she repeated, “You’re my princess.” Something twinkled at the sides of Twilight’s eyes, but she didn’t bother to wipe them. The candlelight turned her tears to stars. “...This is what I mean when I say you’re a sweetheart, but you never listen!” The laugh between them shattered glass ceilings. It felt like the weight of the world lodged on her shoulders had dissolved. For the first time in recent memory, Sunset felt Celestia-damn limitless, and not a drop of magic was required. But then, she was the magic scholar; she could argue her roaring laugh mixing with Twilight’s teary-eyed giggles was, justifiably, a magic all its own. “We seriously need a way to get these compliments through our stubborn heads,” Sunset said, still chuckling. “Like when I say you’re brave, it’s because I think you’re brave, and you should know it.” “Fine, I’m… I’m brave, then.” Twilight conceded. “So, when I say you’re a good friend to the girls, that’s code for you’re a good friend to the girls, including Princess Twilight. And you deserve to feel like you are.” She smiled, proud of herself for covering all bases. Sunset fought the urge to argue that she’d gotten all of them in more danger than she was worth. She swallowed that shame instead. “Alright. I’m a good friend,” she allowed, and felt empowered to see Twilight’s patient smile telling her she’d done well to say it, even if it was hard to fully believe anymore. “But when I say I believe in you... you know that doesn’t mean you could ever let me down, right? It means I believe in you because I know who you are now.” “I know,” Twilight promised, cheeks glowing fuchsia in the candle light.  “Good,” Sunset told her in a calming tone. “Because I believe in you. You’ll be a great leader of the Rainbooms next time we go into battle.” Twilight’s eyes expanded larger than some dessert plates. “What?! Sunset—” She culled her volume, catching the eye of nearby tables and releasing it with a sheepish smile. “No, no, no, no, Sunset, no. I’m ‘brave’, but I’m no friendship expert. I’m a mess!” “You say that like I’m not a mess,” Sunset mused. She could see the rebuttals bubbling behind Twilight’s scared eyes and put up a hand. “Before you say no, just hear me out: I’m not saying this because I want you to be like how Princess Twilight was with them. You’re already everything they could ever need.” The blush on Twilight’s cheeks was promising, and Sunset’s smile teased one out of Twilight’s lips. Twilight gifted her a little laugh. “You might be a little biased, sweetie. I’m your princess.” Sunset grinned. "Yeah, you are, but I’m also right. I think they’re going to need you when all this stuff with King Sombra comes to a head. If I know evil overlords—and I’m speaking as an ex-overlord wannabe here—he’s not going to lie in wait forever. If we have someone to unify us, we might stand a chance. You know the value of friendship better than anyone!” Twilight sighed, “I was also a lonely social reject until relatively recently and, even if I logically know it won’t happen, that the girls and I wouldn’t let it happen... I’m sometimes still terrified I’ll end up that way again. Who’s to say he won’t prey on that?” Sunset faltered. She should’ve anticipated her girlfriend’s quick-thinking, but hearing that stuck thorns into her heart. She shook her head. “... Well, if he does, I’m an easy target, too. I know the girls trust me, but…” She shook her head, drawing out the I in: “I don’t always know if they should. I keep leading them into danger.” She could see the words wash over Twilight until her expression collapsed into a small, nervous smile. “I suppose that’s the thing about having great friends like ours. It’s so much scarier to think about losing them.” Sunset nodded. “They’re family now. I haven’t had that in years.” Even now, when the word came out of her mouth, her first thought was them. Or Princess Celestia, if she was honest. Anything beyond that was too far back to reach. Could she even call them that after putting them through so much danger? Regarding her, Twilight’s smile took a turn for the better. “You know? This might sound a little weird, but I think I’m not afraid of losing you. And I’m always afraid I’ll lose everyone! I’ve been alone for so long, I think it’s only logical, but then, even if I’m still worried I’ll end up locked away in a lab again, when I think about you...” Twilight Sparkle could only shrug. “I don’t feel alone anymore.” “I’m not afraid of losing you, too.” Sunset had a theory then that fate was a feeling. She could work all her life and never understand its magic. But right now? She felt fate. Sure beyond contentment. If the Fates themselves had told her that everything in her life up until this point brought her right here, sitting across from this girl, the only thing she’d ask them was why it had to take so damn long. She’d never been patient. Twilight’s bitten lip seemed to say the same thing. Her hand moved over Sunset’s, and combined with the unreadable look to her brilliant eyes, it woke up a warmth in Sunset’s stomach. “Sunset?” she asked, her voice softer than before. “...Do you really think I’m brave?” “Yeah,” she murmured without hesitation.  A flurry of heat burned in Twilight’s cheeks, brighter and more hypnotizing than any fire Sunset had ever watched burn in her old room’s hearth. “Good… then I’m gonna say something a little brave.” The words built and built behind her eyes until Sunset couldn’t take waiting and would have kissed it right out of her if Twilight hesitated a second longer. A pent up sigh released, and she said, “Ohhh gosh, okay, I’m really saying this. I think I—that is, I know, but it’s okay if you don’t know! I do, and I…” Red shimmered on her cheeks. “Whenever you’re ready, I want you to be my first, Sunset.” Suddenly hyper-aware of all the other fancy restaurant patrons out of earshot, Sunset could feel the heat spread from her stomach all the way to her face. But her smile was downright weightless. “Yes! Holy mother of Tartarus, Twilight, all this time I didn’t want to rush you!” “Wait, really?” Twilight asked, delighted to the degree that she didn’t know what to do with herself, as if it wasn’t obvious Sunset had it beyond bad for her. There was a conspiratory way to how low they kept their voices. “Oh my gosh, okay. Yeah! Wait.” Her eyes ballooned with curiosity. “‘All this time’? How long…?” Sunset brought out a raunchy grin. “For me?” She saw her girlfriend nodding. “Since the Fall Formal.” “Our first date? You mean you would’ve…?” Sunset smiled, leaning into her hand. “Oh yeah.” Groaning, Twilight slapped her forehead, rattling her genius brain. “I can’t believe I missed the signals! Well, actually I can. But still! We could’ve⁠—! All this time!” She hesitated. “On the subject, can I ask a personal question?” Sunset leaned in. “Go for it.” “Okay. Okay! I’ll preface this by saying I have no preference either way, a-and no judgement, but, um, out of curiosity, have you ever had sex before?” Sunset grinned. “And you have experience!” Twilight slapped her forehead again. “All this time! Since our first date!” Sunset laughed, wishing there wasn’t this stupid table between them. “It’s okay. Even if I really wanted to back then, I’m glad I waited. The night ended where it did for a reason. We needed time to learn how to be a couple first.” She cupped her hand on Twilight’s cheek, just scraping by the line of public decency. “Looks like we’re pretty fast learners, huh Sparky?” Twilight took a breath, and Sunset thought she could see her stopping herself from shuddering. Sunset didn’t care if she lost every penny of this fancy reservation and they left right that second, but she didn’t get the chance. Partly because she didn’t know if the gem she’d used to pay was technically hers if it came from Princess Celestia originally. But mostly because Timber Spruce came crashing down onto the table.  Sunset startled back and Twilight shrieked. The table proved to be surprisingly sturdy for having an entire teenage boy slammed down onto it, but the candle clattered to the floor, rudely displaced. The other restaurant patrons gasped, and a wellspring of scandalized voices sprung up afterwards. Heart pounding for the last reason she would have wanted, Sunset glared at the boy between her and her girlfriend.  When Timber saw their faces, a grin wide enough to span seas graced his face. “Girls! Oh man, okay, you have no idea how glad I am to see you! I went to Northway!” “Timber?” Twilight sputtered, lowering her hand from her geode. “Where did you—how did you—what!?” Timber’s hands jumped to his head, which was now outfitted with a Northdic knit hat with ear-flaps rather than his regular beanie. “Oh man, I had a day. So I was trying really hard to use my teleportation power, and I maybe overshot Canterlot High by a few hundred thousand miles to the northeast? I didn’t know I could do that! Drained the ever-loving everything out of me, and it took me a long time to recharge. I thought I’d have to buy a plane ticket home, honestly. That’s when I met a lovely fisherman named Oslo who became my new best friend and gave me this nifty hat!” He flapped the ear-flaps, then snagged a look at Twilight and made a little impressed noise. “Oh hey, new suit! Looks good.” “Timber,” Sunset warned in much the same way the plumes of ash and smoke rising from a volcano warned of an imminent eruption. She might have exploded already if she wasn’t so impressed with the sheer magical feat he’d pulled off. Even when she had the ability to teleport, Sunset herself had only ever traveled that far two times in her life—both out of pure necessity, and both times she’d been left feeling hungover and damn near empty. He moved to dethrone himself from their table, but his legs wobbled on contact with the floor, and he had to catch himself on the tablecloth. He whistled. “That… that was a ton of energy for one day…” Sunset and Twilight both braced an arm. As a naturally gifted magician herself, Sunset remembered almost too well what spell burnout felt like: a heavy ache dragging her down, like she’d been electrocuted. Concern filled Twilight’s eyes. “Are you okay?” “I think so?” he asked, mostly directed toward Sunset, who nodded. Aside from oversleeping past his alarm tomorrow morning, he’d probably be fine. Although, Timber also seemed to finally take in their elegant surroundings. “But why are we at Flash’s work? And hey, you’re both all snazzy looking. What’s the occas—” His eyes flared out. “Oh.” “Yeah, oh,” Sunset grumbled. Timber looked all too similar to the way Spike did when he’d chewed through some critical computer wires in the lab. The difference was Timber also muttered in a tiny voice, “Okay, but... why did you go on a date where Flash works?” Sunset glowered at him. “Apparently so I could give him back his boyfriend. Come on.” “You don’t have to ask me twice,” he said, sounding more grateful than anything.  The two of them would have happily parted ways then if not for the explosive magical force between them. The best point of comparison to Sunset was getting hit with a magic projectile. But even worse than a scorching hot combat spell, the magic disoriented her to the point of vertigo. She wouldn’t have been surprised if she’d been airlifted by a tornado for how turned around she felt. Her own senses played tricks on her.  Even her sense of balance was wonky. She wobbled back, backing into the wall sooner than she expected. She groaned, “What the f—”  She slapped a hand over her mouth. That was far deeper and more nasally than her own voice. But then it didn’t even feel like her own face either. The cheeks were so much more slender, and the hands grabbing it were so much thicker than her own. As if that wasn’t confusing enough, she didn’t entirely know what she was looking at. A girl who looked like Sunset’s reflection gone rogue rubbed her forehead. Is that… the human me? Did I go through some kind of portal?  Neither of those thoughts made sense to her since she was still in Le Grand’s, but at the moment, her brain struggled to adjust to a dozen different things, each weirder than the last. She was taller than a second ago. Her eyesight was better, and she hadn’t even known there was detail she’d been missing before. Her body felt well and truly exhausted. A chill trickled into her heart. But she realized it wasn’t really her heart. She watched Twilight try to help the girl who looked like Sunset, asking, “Are you alright? Sunset, what was that?” And the girl stared at her, completely baffled, before getting a look at what Sunset currently looked like. “Hey, Twilight? Why am I over there?”