Twilight Sparkle watched as, for the umpteenth time, Rainbow Dash scribbled something out on her infernal notepad. She sighed and turned her attention back to her book, Starswirl the Bearded: Unappreciated Greatness, but found that she was still unable to block out the constant scratching of her friend's quill. The short, light noises where spaced just far enough apart to pull Twilight out of her zone every time she entered it—it was impossible to get any reading done at all!

With mild indignation, the unicorn remembered the first day Rainbow had shown up to the library with her notepad in hoof saying something about needing to vent. She had strutted right through the door and plopped herself on the couch, writing on the sheets of paper like a madmare. At first, Twilight had been excited, perhaps even a little impressed to see her athletic friend taking such a sudden interest in the art of note-taking, but day after day of Dash's constant writing had worn her down, and now that excitement was gone, replaced mostly by annoyance at the distracting noises that kept interrupting her studying.

“Rainbow, what are you doing over there?” she asked finally, a hint of her irritation seeping into her tone.

Over on the couch, a single pegasus ceased all movement and flushed. “Um... nothing?”

Twilight rolled her eyes. “Well, could you go do nothing somewhere else?” she asked. “That scratching is driving me nuts! What are you writing that's so important anyway?”

Dash visibly gulped. She set her quill down and eyed her notepad. “Erm... nothing?” she said with a squirm.

“Really?” Twilight raised an eyebrow. “You've brought that thing here every day for almost a month and you expect me to believe that it's nothing?”

“Well, that's what it is!” the cyan pony huffed defensively. She adjusted herself on the couch so that Twilight couldn't see her face before picking her quill back up and resuming her writing.

At this, Twilight immediately glanced up. The sheer randomness of her friend's question was enough to force an incredulous look onto her face. “What? Why would you want to know that?”

Dash squirmed uncomfortably on the couch, biting her lip. “Well... I...” she spluttered. “I just do! Okay?”

Twilight sighed—she hadn't been expecting a straight answer anyhow. Searching her expansive vocabulary, she began listing off appropriate words. “Well, there's 'boat,' 'tote,' 'gloat,' 'throat,' 'float—'”

“Float!” the pegasus exclaimed excitedly, her eyes alight with fire. “That's perfect! Thanks Twi!”

“'—bloat...' huh?” Twilight looked back at Rainbow, who was now scribbling furiously on her notepad again. “Um... You're welcome?”

Why would she even need to rhyme anything at all? Twilight wondered, watching Dash hum as she worked. Rhymes didn't usually hold any place in writing except for one field. Suddenly, something occurred to her. She... she wouldn't be doing that! Would she? Once again, she studied her feathered friend—her eyes were drilling into the paper, scrutinizing whatever it was that she had written down.

With a growing suspicion, Twilight reached out with her magic and pulled the Library's Card Catalog off of her desk. Flipping through the pages, she examined each name until she found—ah! Rainbow Dash... hm... Gah!

Quickly, Twilight launched a hover spell and caught herself before she fell off the couch in surprise. She had to double check just to make sure she wasn't somehow imagining the words. T. S. Fillyot? Colt Whitman? Cloud Mckay? But... but I've never checked out any of these for her! Her eyes slid over to the management column, and sure enough, Spike's name was signed under every single one of Rainbow Dash's recent check-outs.

Poetry books? Rainbow Dash—the Rainbow Dash—had been borrowing poetry books from her library?

One more time, Twilight examined her friend. She was lithe and strong—the perfect athlete. Rainbow had always been about one thing, and one thing only: speed. Anything else had always taken a backseat in her world. Most days, her skipped weather shifts left her without any bits to buy food, and Twilight wound up feeding her supper—not that she really minded, that's what friends were for, right? Still, it'd been just a few months since Dash had even considered reading anything at all, let alone poetry.

“Rainbow? Are you writing... poems?” Twilight asked, fighting back her shock.

Dash froze; her eyes widened and her quill dropped out of her mouth. “W-what?”

Her reaction, along with the growing redness on her face, all but confirmed Twilight's assertion. Reaching out with her magic, Twilight grabbed a hold of Dash's notebook. “Can I see them?”

“No!” Dash exclaimed desperately, latching onto the wordpad with all of her might as Twilight hoisted it up. The pegasus beat her wings with the fury of a hurricane as she tried to pull it back whilst hanging in the air.

“Oh, come on, Rainbow Dash,” Twilight chuckled. “They can't be that bad!”

Twilight blinked. She'd never seen Dash so flustered; her face could have rivaled Big Macintosh's for color, and her tone was worse than begging—pleading. With a pang of remorse, Twilight realized that, in Dash's position, she wouldn't want her literary artwork read either. Without thinking, she let go of the notebook.

Rainbow was launched across the room and into the couch the second Twilight released her magical hold. She crashed into the cushions and tipped the piece of furniture over, spilling out onto the floor on the other side. With a groan she sat back up and swayed a bit. “Ow,” she said rather calmly, massaging her forehead.

Twilight leaped off her chair and charged across the room. “Rainbow Dash!” she cried out, “Are you okay?” In a flurry of wholesale panic, she scooped up her friend and examined her forehead. A bright red fluid dripped from her skin, just below Dash's hairline. Come to think of it, her entire face was looking rather pink at the moment... probably a result of increased blood flow due to physical exertion, Twilight reasoned.

“'M fine, Twilight!” the pegasus protested, her speech slurred just the tiniest bit.

“No, you're not, you're bleeding!” Releasing her friend's head—only to grab her hoof—Twilight began escorting a heavily remonstrating Rainbow Dash to another room. “Come on,” she said, “I've got a First Aid kit in the kitchen.”

Immune to Rainbow's struggling, Twilight plopped her friend down on the floor by the table and began searching for her medical supplies. “Now,” she mumbled to herself, “Where did I put that bag?” She pulled open the nearest cabinet and shifted a few loose papers to the side, revealing a small tote bag filled with assorted bandages, gauze, scale-scrapers and needles. Behind it was something not quite unwelcome in her circumstances.

“Oh, look!” she said, hauling both items out of the cabinet. With a silly grin, she turned back to her patient and placed the nurse's hat upon her head. “I don't even remember buying this! How do I look?” she asked, striking a pose.

After a moment of silence, Twilight frowned. “Okay,” she sighed, taking the hat off and placing it back in the cabinet. “I guess it was rather silly, wasn't it? I'm sorry for wasting time.”

After pulling a bandage and some antiseptic out of her First Aid bag, Twilight zipped it back up and set it on the table. She walked back over to Rainbow Dash and made to apply the antiseptic, but a light brushing on her side alerted her to a problem. “Um, Rainbow, could you put your wings down? They're in the way...”

Dash's face grew noticeably pinker at Twilight's words, but her wings stayed put. “I... I can't...” Rainbow responded, her eyes shut tight.

If it were at all possible, Dash managed to squeeze her eyes even tighter. “I just can't! Okay?”

“Um, okay... Hang on then, this will only take a second.” Twilight could have used her magic, but she needed to see what she was doing, and that meant getting up close and personal with Dash's little laceration. Strangely, Rainbow seemed to be even further away than before—it was like every for inch Twilight grew closer, Dash shied away.

Twilight rolled her eyes and sighed. “You may be fine now,” she groaned. “But we have to cover that cut up before it gets infected! Now hold still; it's just a little antiseptic.”

As Twilight's hoof settled on Dash's forehead, said pegasus's wings gave a frantic little twitch and she gasped. “Sorry,” Twilight said, grimacing. She noted her friend's erratic breathes and shakes. “Does it sting?” she asked.

Suddenly, the door to the library crashed open and in stomped a lavender pegasus with a golden mane. “Rainbow Dash!” Cloud Kicker roared. “Your patrol started three hours ago! Captain or not, I'm dragging your plot to work!”

Twilight thought she heard Dash say something like “oh thank Celestia!” before calling out to her colleague: “I'm in the kitchen! Hang on!”

Dash looked back at Twilight, whose surprise was clear on her face. “I've actually been expecting her for some time now,” the pegasus explained, her features settling back to normal. “She always makes me work... Sorry, Twi, I've gotta go.”

“Uh, yeah.” Rainbow chuckled nervously. “I figure if I can clear the sky in ten seconds, I can afford to blow off a little time...”

“Come on, Dash!” Cloud Kicker complained. “Some of us have clouds to buck!”

“Right! Uh, see ya later, Twi!” With that, the pegasi galloped back out the door and leaped into the skies.

“Ugh, why do I even bother?” Twilight grumbled as she put the First Aid bag back in the cabinet. “That pony will never learn!” At least Dash was actually going to work today, as opposed to shirking her duties... again.

Twilight walked back into the lounge room of the library and sighed when she took in the mess. The couch was still flipped over, and various cushions and throw pillows littered the floor—add that to the tea she'd spilled and the books she'd knocked over in her hurry to tend to Rainbow Dash's injury, and it looked like a hurricane had blown through.

Grabbing a towel from the counter in the kitchen with her magic, she started sopping up her spilled drink before it could spread to anything made of paper. At the same time, she reached out and began to stack up the assorted fallen books, placing them in the corner for Spike to re-shelve when he returned from his sleepover at Apple Bloom's house. When she was finished, she flipped her couch back over and started to put it back where it belonged, but something fell to the floor with a slap.

It was a notebook. A light blue notebook with “Property of Rainbow Dash, PRIVATE!” written on its cover. Rainbow Dash must have left it here by accident, Twilight thought, picking it up. I wonder if... She began to open it, but immediately slammed it shut. No! She said she didn't want me to read it! With a look of fierce determination, Twilight placed her friend's notepad on the coffee table and went back to cleaning.

While she worked, Twilight found her attention continuously drawn to the little blue wordpad. It sat there, mocking her with it's forbidden interior. I don't see how taking a peek could hurt... That's when she'd tear her eyes off of it and went back to work, she wasn't about to betray her friend's trust like that. No matter how curious she was about Rainbow's sudden interest in poetry.

She finished cleaning faster than she'd initially anticipated and found herself back in her chair with her Starswirl biography. Try as she might though, Twilight still couldn't take her mind off of Rainbow's book. It wasn't like she wanted to disobey her friend's wishes—quite the contrary, actually. It was just that Rainbow Dash had been bringing that notebook with her wherever she went for weeks, and Twilight wasn't the only pony that wanted to know what was written within. Lately, a common topic of conversation among her friend's was a debate over what Dash could possibly be doing. Now that Twilight knew what it was—poetry, of all things—she had to read it.

Besides, if Rainbow Dash was indeed writing poetry, she'd need to show it to somepony someday, right? Who writes poetry for themselves? Twilight would be doing her friend a favor in pre-reading them! Who could possibly catch more errors in syntax or prose? Dash may have been taking leaves from some of Equestria's best poets, but she was still new to writing, she was bound to make plenty of mistakes. Now that she thought about it, it was more of a travesty to not read Dash's notebook.

Newly convinced of her most righteous and noble of missions, Twilight reached out with her magic and grabbed the notebook off of the coffee table. With a fat grin, she opened it and looked at the first page. That is, until she realized what she was looking at.

Hearts. Dozens, maybe hundreds of them littered the paper. Each held the phrase: “RD+TS.” Twilight stared blankly at the page, unsure what to make of them. How... what?

Stay calm Twilight! Hearts are fine! They're organs! They mean life, and happiness and joy! Twilight gulped. And love... But only sometimes! Besides, “TS” doesn't necessarily mean me... It could mean... It could mean... Gah! Why the heck can't I think of anypony!

I've gone crazy! Twilight exclaimed inwardly. Yes, that's it! I've gone crazy and I'm hallucinating! There aren't really hearts on this paper, and Rainbow Dash definitely doesn't have a crush on me!

A few shaky breaths later, and Twilight decided she'd come back to examine the true contents of the page at some other point; after all, she was supposed to be reading poems, not looking at Rainbow's... doodles.

Flipping to a random page somewhere far away from the first one, Twilight came to her first lines of writing. Twilight sighed with relief, words were something she knew. There was a comfort in words. Comfort she definitely needed after that nearly panic inducing illusion. I can't believe that I even believed myself for a second, Twilight thought with a chuckle. Now to examine some of Dash's artwork.

Her eyes settled on the first words, and, settling into a pattern, began to read the poem with much fervor. Twilight's excitement, however, was short lived, as the hallucinations fled from her and revealed the terrifying truth.

My Twilight, my Twilight, who shines like a star,
I wish I could tell you just what you are.

Your beauty, your brains, for me know no bounds,
they make me want to howl like a pack of wild hounds.

I wish I were worthy; I wish I were smart;
I wish I had brains, to make better art!

When you hold me, you don't know, but you make me shiver;
you send a great chill from my heart to my liver!

My Twilight, my Twilight, I'll never have you,
but I know in my dreams, I'll always be true.

Seriously? Was this for real? When the heck did this start? Twilight racked her brains looking for something, anything that could have even hinted at Rainbow's feelings.

Wait. There was earlier, when Twilight had been applying the antiseptic to Rainbow's forehead—her face had been bright red. But that was it, wasn't it? Dash hadn't even so much as hinted at her affection before that... had she? Twilight was smart, but even she had to admit that without any experience in the field of love, anything that the pegasus might have done would probably have flown over her head—no pun intended.

Well, whatever this was, at least she knew it now. Then again, Twilight had just snooped into her friend's private notebook and learned one of her most personal secrets. Considering the nature of said secret, Twilight was conflicted about continuing.

Closing her eyes and cursing her photographic memory, she turned the page. Okay, just one more. I mean, it's not like she's written too many more of these; I bet this is the only one! The poem was really good in and of itself, actually—much better than what I'd expect from somepony like Rainbow Dash!

It was the truth. When she stepped back—way, way, back—she actually found herself enjoying Dash's poem. It was nice, if a little simple, and it definitely wasn't lacking emotion. Twilight didn't exactly know what to make of the compliments, that was for sure; she was beautiful? The poor pegasus likely needed to have her head examined.

Bracing herself, Twilight opened her eyes and prepared to read the next poem. “Oh, come on!” she cried when she saw the title: “This thing I feel.”

There's this thing, it's called love, and I've got it real bad;
It's not simple love, like for mom or for dad.

It's not like a love for a brother or sister,
or even a love for a magazine mister.

With your beautiful eyes of a deep purple hue,
oh, Twilight Sparkle, my love is for you!

Twilight found herself smirking as she finished. Magazine mister. She chuckled. How clever...

Still, it was another poem about her—one that actually declared love. An uneasy feeling grew in her stomach; this wasn't just some schoolfilly crush, was it? This was serious. Perhaps she should talk to Rainbow Dash tomorrow—No! If I do that, she'll know I went through her notebook! Her inner voice screamed.

This is more important! Twilight reasoned. Rainbow was Twilight's friend, and a close one at that. If she was having problems, she'd be there for her—regardless of how awkward things could become, or how angry Dash might get. Still, she wouldn't know what to say anyway—that she'd never really thought about her that way?

Come to think of it, Twilight hadn't really ever thought about anypony that way before; she'd always been too focused on her studies. After a few moments of pondering her feelings, Twilight decided that she didn't really have a problem with the idea of an intimate relationship with the cyan pegasus. But just going for it, especially not knowing if she could ever truly love Rainbow back was far too rash of a decision to make in a few short moments. Honestly, she was still getting used to the idea that anypony could like her of all ponies.

Cautiously, Twilight flipped through the notebook until she discovered a series of blank pages. Turning back a few sheets, she found the last entry. The ink was still fresh, no older than an hour or two. This must be the poem Rainbow Dash was working on earlier, Twilight thought, recalling the series of infuriating quill scratches that prevented her studying. It was funny really, if she hadn't gotten so annoyed by them, she'd still be ignorant of her friend's feelings. And again, Twilight felt her stomach tie itself in a knot. She was still unsure whether or not this discovery was a good one.

One month? Two months? Three months? More?
How many times have I knocked on your door?

Well passed two years now, maybe three yet,
I've loved you since the day we met.

Your eyes, your nose, your lavender coat,
all of your beauty makes my heart float.

It's your smarts, your dorkiness, your bookish ways,
even your eggheadedness brightens my days.

I want to tell you—I want to so bad,
but I'm afraid you'll reject me and make me feel sad.

So I hold it in as much as I can,
and forevermore, I'm your number one fan.

Somewhere, something deep inside Twilight clicked. Most of Dash's poems seemed to have one common theme: worry. For some reason, that didn't sit well with Twilight. Sure, she'd never been in a relationship—sure, she'd never make a decision so major as this without thinking it through—sure, she'd never actually considered Rainbow Dash as a potential lover, but that didn't mean she'd just crush all of her friend's hopes without giving her a chance! She almost felt offended that Rainbow would even consider Twilight capable of such callousness!

She needed to confront Rainbow Dash about this. If the pegasus truly had been hiding these feelings ever since their first meeting—Dash's jumpiness and giggling now taking on a different meaning under the light of new information—then it was imperative that Twilight take some initiative and alleviate some of her friend's stress. She'd need to think about what to say, of course, and whether or not she should actually start a relationship with her was still in the air, but there was something, some little voice in the back of her mind that didn't find the idea of getting intimate with Dash so bad—in fact, it seemed to be trying to convince her that not only would it not be bad, it would be great!

How do you know that? Twilight defended. I don't even know how a real relationship works! What if I screw it up and wind up not friends anymore?

Please, the voice laughed. You really think Rainbow Dash could ever hate you? Take a look at that notebook right there and tell me the Celestia honest truth.

The voice had a point there. From the poems she'd read, it certainly looked like Rainbow was head over hooves for her—a concept that Twilight found both flattering, and scary.

One by one, Twilight's arguments fell victim to the voice's logic, until she came to only one conclusion: she would give Rainbow Dash her chance.

With the weight of a heavy decision off her shoulders, Twilight decided to talk to Dash the next day and, if she was willing—Twilight had a had a hard time believing she wouldn't be—they may even go on their first lunch date.

Turning back to the first page, Twilight reexamined the little hearts. It was still hard to believe that a pony like Dash could develop any kind of attraction to her. What was so special about a librarian? The only things Twilight had to her name were the title of “Celestia's Protege,” and a perfect grade point average—things that somepony like Rainbow wouldn't even care about in the first place.

Even harder to believe was the fact that, in just a few short hours, Twilight might be about to begin her first non-platonic relationship. She turned the page and found yet another poem, probably the first that Rainbow had ever written. Twilight chuckled at the thought that this whole situation had been kicked off by Rainbow's very own folly: skipping out on work.

It was getting late. The sun had long since set, and Twilight was getting sleepy. She looked at the poem before her.

Heh, poetry. Poetry had never been a literary genre Twilight had particularly cared for before—honestly, she actually found it boring. Poems were too dressed up and fancy to be all that enjoyable. Often times, they were simply garbage thrown together by love-sick ponies. Who would have thought that it would have been through this medium, that Twilight entered the world of dating?

Twilight yawned. She needed to get to bed soon if she wanted to be well-rested for tomorrow. Still, it wouldn't hurt to read one more before turning in, would it? After all, it was the poems in this notebook that had told her the truth about Rainbow Dash's feelings for her. Besides, it was a short one—beginner's writing at best. She'd read it and get to bed after.

Her eyes settled on the page, and she began reading, her face warming as she took in the words. By the end, she thought she felt steam coming out of her ears.

Roses are red,
So are my eyes,
I want to stick my tongue in your thighs.

Author's Note:
Words cannot describe how much I hate this; it's probably the most vile, disgusting bunch of text my fingers have ever typed up. Honestly, I don't even know why I'm posting it.

Bedtime Stories

by Incredible Blunderbolt

Curiosity