She didn’t know when the idea had first formed, or what exactly had inspired it, but once she’d had it, it simply hadn’t let her go. It followed her to clubs, it peeped back from her cereal, it poked its head round the shower curtain to yell “Boo!” and run away again. Especially, it bounced around her when she was with Tavi. Then, it was so loud she could barely think. And the more time passed, the more it seemed like a Plan.
“Remind me,” said Groove, as he prodded at his suit, “why, exactly, I’m doing this?”
“Because I need to know what the inside looks like.”
“For your marefriend. Who’s in the Mafia.”
“Yup.”
Groove narrowed his eyes. He’d never really gotten used to the idea, and Vinyl suspected he still thought it was some kind of joke.
“I still want to meet her, you know.”
“Yeah, I know.”
“Well,” he said with a sigh, “I suppose I’d better be off, then. All good practise, I guess.” He frowned. “Though I’m not sure that sneaking into a bank was what my director had in mind when she said ‘real-world acting.’”
“You’ll be fine.”
“I’d better be.” He drew himself together, puffing out his chest, and suddenly his whole posture changed, and he looked a whole lot less like Groove and a whole lot more like a businesspony. “I expect you to use your Mafia connections to bail me out if I get caught, though.” He jabbed a hoof at Vinyl.
“Well...” Vinyl flashed him a grin. “Who can say, really.”
“Thanks a bunch.”
“No problem.”
Still frowning, Cool Groove left the flat, strutting tall and long, briefcase tucked neatly under one wing, as he headed for a false appointment with a false executive. Soon, he’d be back with a map of the inside, which, Vinyl understood, was much changed since her last visit. Groove had an excellent memory.
And the first part of her Plan slid into place.
“Anniversary’s coming up,” said Tavi, swirling her coffee.
“Buck, really?”
Tavi laughed. “Oh, that’s funny Vinyl, but I would actually be upset if you forgot.”
“Don’t worry,” said Vinyl, waving a hoof. “All I need to do’s check the paper to see the date.” She had, of course, marked it on her calender. Circled three times, and underlined for good measure. “I hope your parents have forgotten, though.”
“No fear of that,” said Tavi over her mug. “Father’s still mad about that stolen gem.”
“Still?”
“Still.” She lowered her voice, scowling fiercely. “‘As big as my hoof, it was. How does something like that go missing? Bucking useless security. I want everypony checked before they leave, again.’”
“It’s been weeks!”
“Yeah. Like I said, not happy.”
“Maybe he sat on it, that’s why he’s so uptight.”
“Could be,” agreed Tavi. “Would explain why he hasn’t found it yet.”
“He spends so long up there, too.”
Tavi giggled, and Vinyl felt herself grinning. “In any case,” Tavi said, turning back to her mug, “unless he finds it soon, we’ll have all day. And all night.” She raised an eyebrow. “Any ideas?”
Vinyl smiled faintly. “One or two.”
And the second part of the Plan slotted neatly in beside the first.
Part three of the Plan was the most difficult, but Vinyl had been working on it a long time, since before she’d had the idea, even, and, after experimentation, she reckoned it was ready.
“Are you sure about this?” asked Groove. “Like, completely sure? No regrets?”
They were sitting in their kitchen, late one night—or early one morning, for all the difference it made—nursing long-cold mugs of hot chocolate. Their tiny kitchen table seemed to stretch a million miles, and Groove, all the way at the other end of it, seemed crumpled and small. They’d started talking at seven, when Vinyl had told him she had something to say. They hadn’t stopped since.
“Yeah,” said Vinyl, looking away. “I’m sure. I mean, as sure as I can be, I think.”
Groove nodded, squinting up at her from under his dreadlocks. “If you’ve gotta do it,” he said, “you’ve gotta do it. Even if that means...what it means.” His breath hitched. “Just don’t screw it up, okay? Don’t half-ass it.”
“I’m trying not to.” She sighed. “You’ve heard it, now. Is there anything you think I’m missing?”
Groove shuddered, tossing his mane back with a hoof. “Buck, dude, I don’t know. Seems pretty solid to me. I’m just glad I don’t have to consider stuff like this.”
Vinyl rubbed her head. “Yeah, this is way more thinking than I like to do too. My brain hurts.”
Groove snickered, then after a moment fell silent. “You...you really think it’s gonna work?”
Vinyl thought about it, each step of it, every angle she’d considered, everything she knew about every element of the Plan... “Yeah,” she said roughly. “Yeah, I think it is.”
Groove looked away. “Am I an asshole for hoping it doesn’t?”
Vinyl snorted. “I mean, a little bit. But...”
“You’re kinda hoping it doesn’t, too,” he finished.
“Does that make me an asshole?” Vinyl asked, looking up at him.
“Nah.” Groove shook his head. “Just makes you a pony, I reckon.”
Vinyl smiled. “Well buck, Groove, I don’t know what to say to that.”
He laughed, leaning back in his chair. “You know I’m gonna be thinking about this for years, right? I’ll wake up in some mare’s bed ten years from now and go ‘buck, did I do the right thing? Could I have said something to make it go different?’”
“If it’s any comfort, I’m sure I’ll be doing the same.”
“You do know how to reassure a pony.”
“One of my many gifts.”
“Yeah, well.” He paused. “I don’t think you will, though.”
“No?”
“Nah. You know you’re doing the right thing. That’s why you’re doing it.”
“Don’t go all sappy on me now,” Vinyl warned. “I won’t be able to take it.”
Groove chuckled. “You know how I get when saying goodbye.”
“You can still come visit,” said Vinyl, “maybe you’ll even finally meet her.”
Groove smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “And you can crash here anytime,” he told her. He reached across the table, all those miles in one movement, and took her hoof in his. “Until I get a new roommate, that is.”
Vinyl laughed, and something in her threatened to burst. “Whatever,” she said, sniffing.
Groove squeezed her hoof, and his eyes, when she met them, were wide, and full of...Vinyl didn’t know quite what they were full of, only that she was full of it, too. “I’ll miss you, dude,” he said, swallowing.
“Yeah,” she said, and tried to smile. “Yeah, I’ll miss you too. Dude.”
The day was bright and cold, the sky clear, the streets bustling, and the snow which had fallen had not lain, but left the air fresh, and full of promise. It was, in all likelihood, one of the most important days of Vinyl’s life, which was probably why she’d slept in. She always did that, when she knew something big was coming up. Her first day at collage. Her first gig. Her grandmother’s funeral. And now today. Maybe her body could sense it, and just had it out for her. Or, more likely, it might have been the fact she’d stayed up all night, tossing and turning, unable to sleep.
There was no trace of tiredness in her now, though. She was alive.
All right, she had forgotten her scarf, which had set her back a bit, and then realised halfway to the café that she’d forgotten part three, too, but all that was in the past. Vinyl trotted along the streets briskly, scarf whipping in the slight breeze, the very picture of a pony on a mission. If only her gut wasn’t such a knot of worry.
The café’s flowing sign came into view, and in it, in the window, there sat Tavi. She was, Vinyl was delighted to see, wearing The Hat.
The bell above the door jingled merrily as she entered, and as Tavi looked up to see who it was, her eyes widened, just a little.
“Hey.”
“Hey.”
“You know,” said Tavi, as Vinyl sat down, “when you said you had a plan, ‘leave it all to me,’ it didn’t occur to me that that plan might just be the same café as always.”
“It’s a nice café!” Vinyl protested.
“It is a nice café,” agreed Tavi, “so I’m not too upset.”
Vinyl grinned. “Have you ordered?”
“I was waiting for you.”
“Awesome. Cranberry juice?”
“Coffee.”
“Gotcha.”
As Vinyl went up to order—tea for her; coffee, no sugar, for Tavi—she found herself looking about the place, really looking, for the first time in months. Its quiet industry, its cosy tables, its walls hung with paintings of violins and spoons. They knew her there, and the waitress called her by name as she brought over the drinks. It felt, just a little, like home, and a kind of wistfulness washed over Vinyl like wind, or water, ruffling her fur. It passed.
“I do still have a plan,” said Vinyl, stirring three sugars into her tea.
“Oh?” Tavi cocked an eyebrow. She’d had them done, Vinyl noticed suddenly. She looked good. Tavi glanced over at the counter. “What is it, a bagel?”
“You wish.”
“Mmm, that does sound good right about now.”
“Get one,” Vinyl suggested, quite seriously.
“Yeah?”
“Uh-huh.”
Tavi frowned. “Are you all right, Vinyl? You seem...I don’t know. Distracted.”
“I’m good,” said Vinyl, running a hoof through her mane. “Just...nervous, I guess.”
“I’m not sure whether to take that as a good sign or not.”
“Mostly good, I think.”
“Mostly.”
“Yup.”
“How encouraging.”
She snickered. “I do try.”
“I know,” said Tavi. “I appreciate it.” She drained the last of her coffee, and set the cup aside. “So what is this plan, then? What are we doing?”
Vinyl smiled. “We have a date.”
“Yes,” said Tavi bemusedly. “I’m quite aware.”
“A proper date,” Vinyl clarified. “It’s a real fancy place, too.”
“Is that so?” Tavi gave her a small smile. “I’ve heard of it, then.”
“Oh yes,” Vinyl smirked, “you’ve totally heard of it.” She finished her tea, shaking the teapot for every last dreg. Tavi rolled her eyes.
“Are you quite finished?”
“Sure am.” She dropped the teapot, clearing both their cups onto a tray—Lemon Hearts always appreciated it—and tucked a nice big tip just under it. “Come on.”
They left the café with a wave, and a smile, and Vinyl turned to catch one last glance of it as the door rang closed behind them. A sort of dizzy warmth came over her, then, and she almost ran back to grab a bagel. Almost.
“So where is this place?” Tavi asked, brushing up against Vinyl as they walked. She had a slight skip in her step that gave ease to the knot in Vinyl’s stomach.
“Don’t worry,” said Vinyl, grinning, “it’s just around the corner.”
Hoofsdayle bank was not as grand as Vinyl remembered. Its doors seemed gaudy, its ornaments tacky; its opulence no longer impressed her. Its pale and flaking splendour held an air of desperation, of clinging-on, and sour-faced guards stood just beside each teller.
“Vinyl,” said Tavi, narrowing her eyes, “is this going to be what I think its going to be?”
“I don’t know,” Vinyl shrugged. “But probably, yeah.”
“I’m...I’m really not sure what to make of this.”
Vinyl gave her an odd, wry smile. “Well, why don’t you wait and see.”
Tavi frowned, but said nothing more.
“Hey,” said Vinyl, approaching the teller. A waspish green mare inspected her from behind the reinforced glass. The unicorn guard beside her glowered up at us—he was surprisingly short.
“Business?” demanded the teller, in a voice almost as thin as she.
“We’ve, uh, got an appointment,” said Vinyl.
Tavi nodded, falling into character effortlessly beside her. “That’s right.”
“Name of Cord,” Vinyl added. “Satin Cord.”
The mare screwed up her mouth into something resembling a line, and hoofed through a sheaf of papers on her desk. She rather reminded Vinyl of Lapis. “Satin Cord,” she repeated. “Twelve-fifteen. Please take a seat.”
“Thanks.” Vinyl bobbed her head, and nudged Tavi over to the lounge. The guard’s stare followed them all the way to the armchairs.
“Satin Cord?” asked Tavi quietly, when they were settled.
“What? Don’t you like it?” She gave Tavi a mischievous grin.
Tavi shook her head, but she was smiling. “I hope you know what you’re doing.”
Vinyl took her hoof over the chair. “So do I”
“You know,” said Tavi, after a moment, as she looked around, “this is actually surprisingly romantic of you.”
“Hey, I can be...” She trailed off. Tavi’s hoof had suddenly clamped down on her own, squeezing so tight it verged on painful. “...Tavi?”
“Don’t look now,” Tavi said, very calmly, “but we have an issue.”
Vinyl turned, and immediately swung back. “Buck.”
“Yes,” agreed Tavi. “That about sums it up.”
In the booth next to them, the closest teller to their chairs, was the large purple stallion from their first visit. His hooves were clasped, as before, and he leaned forward as he spoke with a studied condescension to the supplicant before him. Two guards stood on either side, watching, presumably, should he made a sudden dash for the door.
This, Vinyl was unprepared for. “What do we do?”
“This is why we never hit the same place twice,” Tavi groaned. “This is the exact reason. Didn’t you run this past anypony?”
“I told your parents. They know we’re here, at least.”
“And they just let you? What am I talking about, of course they did.”
Vinyl glanced around again, just in time to see the pony gesture his customer over to the waiting area. For a split second, their eyes met.
“He saw me,” she said breathlessly. “He bucking saw me.”
“What did I say?” screeched Tavi, very quietly. “I told you not to look!”
“You said don’t look now, not—”
“No time to argue, he’s coming over—”
“What do we...” An idea hit Vinyl. “Let down your mane!” she said, at precisely the same moment Tavi suggested, “Take off your shades!”
They had barely time for the swap before his shadow loomed above them. “Excuse me ma’am,” he intoned. Vinyl looked up.
“Yes?”
“This area’s for executives only.” His hoof stretched to point out an identical area four chairs to their left. “That’s the customer waiting area.”
“Ah,” said Vinyl, disbelievingly, “sorry, we’ll just...” She moved to get up.
The stallion paused, his brow furrowing. “Forgive me, do I know you?” he asked.
“Uh-h-h...”
“She’s a fairly well-known DJ,” put in Tavi.
“That might be it,” he nodded. “My filly’s into that sort of thing.”
“No worries.” Vinyl stood, sidling carefully around him. “We’ll just move over here, out of your mane.”
“Much obliged.”
As soon as they were removed, Vinyl collapsed into the nearest chair.
“I cannot,” said Tavi, watching incredulously as the pony climbed back into his booth, “cannot believe that worked.”
Vinyl chuckled, reinstating her shades and waving a hoof for Tavi to sit. “I like your mane like that, by the way.”
Tavi scowled, blowing the hair out of her face. “Oh, do be quiet.”
“It’s nice!”
Tavi stuck her tongue out, and Vinyl laughed all the harder.
“Ladies.” The thin mare’s voice cut through the sound. Out of the light of her cubicle, she looked positively gaunt. “If you’ll come with me.”
They exchanged looks, sobering immediately. Vinyl rose to follow the mare, and noticed the guard standing just behind her. His short, grubbly moustache wrinkled as he eyed her suspiciously.
As they were led across to the back of the room, Vinyl dropped her voice and asked, “Will he be with us the, uh, whole way?”
The mare gave her a withering look. “Certainly. We take security very seriously here at Hoofsdayle.”
“How charming,” said Tavi.
The door opened to a wide, plush corridor, passing by several doors before it forked off at the end. Vinyl closed her eyes, trying to recall the map that Groove had drawn up. They took a left, here, she was pretty sure.
“This way,” the mare said, heading off to the right.
Vinyl put a hoof into her saddlebags, finding the reassuring weight of a crystal. She nudged Tavi, glancing pointedly between her, the saddlebags, and the guard. Tavi gave her a look that said Really? Vinyl shrugged, and readied the gem.
“Hold on,” she called out to the mare. “Is there a bathroom nearby?”
The mare turned, giving Vinyl a long-suffering glare. “Well,” she said, and that was all she managed, before Vinyl tossed the gem at her. Her horn glowed for an instant, reflexively, but she failed to catch the stone. It hit the floor, bounced once, and vanished into the carpet. Vinyl stared. Buck.
There was a moment’s silence, before the guard let out a shout, and Tavi lobbed a rock at him. It hit his nose with a dull smack.
“Heh.” Vinyl smirked.
The guard charged. Vinyl skipped out the way, and ran for the mare, who was reaching for the nearest door handle. The carpet softened the impact somewhat as Vinyl tackled her to the ground, and she flailed as Vinyl pinned her down. “Focus on the gem,” Vinyl suggested. “It’s better for everypony.”
Something squat and heavy slammed into her side, driving the air from her lungs. Vinyl rolled, tumbling across the carpet, and a flash of pain burst through her side as she hit the wall. A weight fell upon her chest as the guardspony held her. “Don’t. Bucking. Move.”
Vinyl coughed, and the motion was raw, and sore. “I hate your moustache,” she said, in between bursts of pain.
His face reddened. “Shut your thieving mouth!”
There was a crack, and he fell away from her. Vinyl lay there and tried not to whimper. Tavi, standing above, shook her hoof sorely.
“That...” Tavi grimaced. “Felt surprisingly good, honestly.”
Vinyl grinned cautiously. “Yeah?”
“Yeah.” Tavi reached down with her uninjured hoof to help Vinyl up. “Though if I end up in prison on our anniversary, we’re going to be having words.” Her cheeks were flush, her mane in tangles, and to Vinyl, she’d never looked more beautiful.
“I promise nothing,” she replied.
“Mmm. Well, I expect my parents could always get us out.” She examined Vinyl, a smile playing upon her lips. “You didn’t think this through very hard, did you?”
Vinyl laughed. “Not really,” she admitted. “But you like thinking on your hooves, right?”
“To a point.”
“Today’s your lucky day, then.”
“I see.” Tavi shook her head, but her amusement was clear in her voice. “So where to next, Satin?”
Vinyl snorted. “Forward,” she said firmly. “To the vault.”
“Indeed?” said Tavi. “Why, how perfectly vague.”
Tavi had used the gem on the teller mare while Vinyl had been wrestling the guard, which she was glad of, as it had stopped the raising of general alarm, but it was a trick, it seemed, that would work only once.
“So this is a good thing, really, when you think about it,” said Vinyl, as they hesitated in front of the arch.
“Is it,” said Tavi flatly.
“Well, its not like the gems were working anyway.”
“At least they were something. What do we have now? Our hooves?”
Vinyl tapped her head knowingly. “And our minds.”
This did not seem to greatly reassure Tavi. “Perhaps we should turn back.”
“Can you imagine the look on your mother’s face? Not only do we try a job by ourselves, but we fail it, too?”
Tavi whinnied. “Vinyl, I don’t think that’s entirely fair.”
“So?” Vinyl grinned. “What else would we do with our day, anyway?”
“Go to a park,” suggested Tavi, quite reasonably. “Or a museum. Or a theatre. Or go back to my place. Or yours.”
“Okay, well, that’s true, but...” Vinyl raised en eyebrow. “You can’t deny you kinda wanna go on.”
“I can deny it.”
“Okay, you can deny it. But that doesn’t mean its not true.”
Tavi frowned, looking the arch over again. “You’re a bad influence, you know that?”
“Guilty as charged.” Vinyl emptied her saddlebags upon the floor, and Tavi clucked, and tidied them into a corner. She stepped toward the gem detection field, taking a deep breath.
“Come on, then,” said Tavi, walking through it.
“Yeah, yeah.” Vinyl drew from the pile the one thing of import, a thin, white envelope, and closed her eyes. Concentrating, she enveloped the thing in her magic, careful to focus only on the paper, and imagined it slipping through the air. She imagined it already at its destination, already in place, and bent all her energies toward making that reality.
With a pop! the letter vanished, and appeared on the other side.
“Hah!” crowed Vinyl triumphantly, wiping the sweat from her brow. “Undetectable!”
Tavi stared at her, expression unreadable. “I didn’t know you could do that,” she murmured.
Vinyl shrugged. “I’ve been working on it.”
They turned the corner, letter still floating in Vinyl’s grasp, and froze. Down the corridor, the purple earth pony stallion from before did the same. For a moment, they just stared at each other.
“Aww...”
He ran.
Tavi grabbed Vinyl by the hoof, and they took off in the other direction. Hooves pounding, heart thundering, they bolted down the passageway, darting round startled interns and puffed-up executives as they went. The warm light pouring down from above flickered and changed, and suddenly they were bathed in a bloody red, and for a moment all Vinyl could see was the dripping body against the wall.
“Which way?” cried Tavi, through the sirens, as they rounded another corner.
Vinyl blinked, chasing the image away. “Um, left. No, right!”
They veered away, and Vinyl was suddenly aware that they were knocking past a whole lot less ponies now, and the hammering that pulsed in her ears was not coming from her chest alone. Hooves sounded behind them, and Vinyl didn’t dare look back.
“I’m sure you didn’t feel quite this breathless when I was in charge,” shouted Tavi, as they lurched down a hall.
“Nope!” panted Vinyl, through burning lungs. “More in shock, really.”
Something flashed along by them, and just ahead the wall blew out in a haze of red. Another zipped by, yellow this time, and Vinyl could feel the heat as the carpet just behind them caught fire.
“What are they?” gasped Vinyl.
Tavi glanced back. “Some kind of,”—she sucked in a gulp of air—“of magic project— projecti— missile.”
Vinyl risked a look behind her, saw one of the guards’ horns glow a poisonous orange, and yelped as the ceiling exploded above them. Dust and rubble rained down from the roof, and Tavi stumbled, but caught herself.
They had to get out of sight, and fast. Vinyl tried to remember Groove’s instructions, but her legs were aching, her blood was fizzing, and the corridor was erupting all around her.
“In here!” called Tavi, and darted just to her right. Before Vinyl even realised she recognised the place, she was following, dashing in after Tavi’s tail as her marefriend spun round to bar the door. Something crashed into the other side of it, and Vinyl grabbed everything in the room her magic could lift and jammed it behind the door.
Muffled shouts and magic railed against it, but for now the wood held, and Vinyl found to her surprise that she was on the floor, and Tavi was beside her, and for the moment it was all they could do to lie there, gazing up at the ceiling, and breathe.
She knew the room. Somehow, some way, in a fashion that lay more at the hooves of fate, or luck, or instinct, than any real intent, they’d arrived at the room before the safe, where, exactly a year ago, Vinyl had stood and tried not to freak out as a mare she barely knew popped open the vault. It was funny, she thought, that here they should be again, except this time it was Vinyl who’d broken in, and she knew the mare, and it was the mare who was freaking out.
“Vinyl,” Tavi panted, as they lay there together, “what the buck do we do?”
Vinyl tried to sit up, and found that she could, just barely. She started to laugh.
Tavi stared at her, dumbfounded. “We’re screwed,” she said.
Vinyl couldn’t help it, she cackled.
“We’re completely, utterly screwed,” repeated Tavi, watching her carefully.
Vinyl clutched her sides, tears forming in her eyes as she wheezed.
“We’re bucked, and my marefriend’s lost her mind,” she said, and laid her head back against the floor.
Vinyl howled with laughter, bending over almost double until her sides ached and her throat was raw and painful.
“Are you quite finished?” asked Tavi, when the laughter had subsided.
“Yeah,” said Vinyl, and giggled. “Yeah, I’m fine.”
“Is there something I’m missing, here?”
“No, no.” Vinyl waved a hoof. “We’re screwed, you’re right, it’s just...just...”
“Whatever.” Tavi clambered to her hooves, groaning as she stretched her legs. She looked down at Vinyl, and, rolling her eyes, helped her up.
The room was much as Vinyl remembered it. Well, alright, there was a great dark curtain covering the vault, and the door behind them was glowing, but otherwise she’d be hard pressed to tell them apart. It could have been their first date again, and she’d hardly know the difference.
“Sorry,” said Vinyl, bumping up against Tavi.
“No,” Tavi said, “don’t worry, it’s just...”
“Yeah,” Vinyl agreed. “It’s just.”
Tavi glanced back to the door, and the pulsing heat reddening it, and shivered. She turned to the curtain. “Well,” she said, “so long as we’re here...”
She reached out a hoof, and in one graceful motion swept the fabric back. It shimmered as it shifted, catching the light, and Vinyl thought for a moment it looked rather like the sea. Endless, and full of stars.
The vault was where they had left it, its face sagging and wilted, a ruin of a thing. Tavi reached up, and opened the door.
It was completely empty.
“They moved it,” breathed Tavi. “It’s gone.”
Vinyl stepped up to see, and her hoof echoed in the hollow casing. “Of course they did,” she whispered.
Tavi frowned, turning to face her. “You knew?”
“Nah. But it makes sense.” Vinyl looked over at the door, at the wisping smoke that was staring to trickle from it, and said, “Maybe we should get inside.”
It should have felt lonely, in there, the two of them in that cavernous darkness, but somehow, it didn’t. Vinyl lit up her horn, and they stood there in its pinkish glow, a halo of light in the void.
“So,” said Tavi.
“So.”
“Did this all go to plan, then?”
The knot twisted in Vinyl’s gut. “Eh, sorta.”
“Really.”
Vinyl nodded.
“Really?” Tavi looked shocked. Vinyl didn’t blame her.
“As long as we got here, anything went.”
“What’s so special about here?”
Vinyl shrugged. “Just...”
“Just.”
“Yeah. It’s a place, isn’t it? Here.” Vinyl floated out the letter, fumbled, nearly dropped it. Part three of her Plan. She swallowed.
“What...what’s on it?” Tavi didn’t take it.
“A spell.”
“Clearly. I didn’t make it, though.”
Vinyl scratched her head. “Yeah, but I did.”
“So what does it do?”
Vinyl sighed. This was it, this was the moment. She could dance around the fact no longer. Burn, or reach out and touch the future. “It’s a teleport spell. A big one.”
“How long have you been able to...?” Tavi was quiet.
“Not long. I’ve been practising for ages.”
“A big one.”
“Yeah.”
“Vinyl,” she said, a note of suspicion entering her voice, “is that where...?”
“Yup.”
“So that’s why he hasn’t...?”
“Pretty much.”
“Huh.”
“Do you...what do you...?” Vinyl attempted, but her mouth was dry.
“Where does it go?” Tavi asked.
She smiled. “Anywhere. Anywhere you want, just say the word.”
“Anywhere.” Tavi paced, circling Vinyl like cat. “Including, say, the dragonlands, or Yakyakistan, or...?”
“Well, okay, maybe not quite that far,” Vinyl conceded. “But far enough.”
“Far enough,” Tavi echoed.
“You...” Vinyl licked her lips. “You know what this is, right? What it’s for?”
Tavi looked at her hooves. “It’s escape, isn’t it.”
“Yeah.” Vinyl felt her heart beating in her throat. “It’s a way out.”
“But...”
The knot tightened. “But?”
“I don’t...” she looked up, her eyes glistening in the light of Vinyl’s horn. “What if I want to stay?”
“Stay?” Vinyl’s stomach lurched. The lines of the knot closed about her lungs, about her neck. “Why would you want to stay? What’s here for...”
Tavi’s breath was warm against her mane, her cheek soft as she nuzzled Vinyl. “What if I want to stay for you?”
“Me?” Vinyl swallowed. “I don’t... I’d go with you.”
Tavi pulled away. “You...what?”
“I’d go with you.” Vinyl smiled. “This isn’t a test, Tavi. It’s not a...a...I’m not checking your loyalty, here. I’m asking...” She gulped. “I’m asking if you want to go away with me. Away from all this.” She gestured about to the vault, to the bank, to the parents beyond.
Tavi stared at her. She stared long and hard, long enough for that gnawing worry to crack open once more. “...What?” she asked again, her voice tiny.
Vinyl took her by the shoulders. “Run away with me, Tavi. Run away to Filly, or Ponyville, or Prance. Become a musician! Hold a concert! Rob a bank! Wander the streets in smooth black dresses and eat bagels from your favourite shop. Sit on the beach at night time and watch the stars and ships go by. Play your music on a stage, or on the street, or just for me, if you want. Do whatever!”
Tavi blinked. Vinyl wished she knew what was going on inside her head. “But...” she said, softly, “but...what about your family?”
“They can visit,” Vinyl said.
“What about your friends?”
“They’ll come see us, if they can.”
“But my mother, my father, they’ll—”
“Look around,” Vinyl told her. “We’re trapped in a safe, with the guards about to blow the wall in, after running through a bank. Even if they don’t find a body, they’ll think we’re dead. Or maybe they won’t. But they won’t be able to find us.”
“They’ll, they’ll ask your parents, your roommate...”
“Groove?” Vinyl laughed. “He’s an actor, he’ll manage. He’s really mad he never got to meet you, by the way.”
“What if...” Tavi looked away. “What if it doesn’t work out?”
“Then it doesn’t work out. And, I suppose, we go our separate ways, and you can go off somewhere else and I’ll do my own thing, and we’ll be fine.” Vinyl put her hoof on Tavi’s cheek, tilting her head back to look her in the eye. “I don’t think that’ll happen, though.”
“What if—” Tavi began, but Vinyl silenced her with a kiss.
“Listen,” she said, “this is the most I’ve thought about anything, ever. I...I want to do this. I want to run away, and have a life with you, and probably bake bread together, and play music, and annoy each other, and cry, and make love, and knit sweaters on the weekend or something, I don’t know.” It had hurt, earlier, admitting that to herself, but now, here with Tavi, she felt perfectly relaxed. “So...do you want that, too?”
Tavi gazed back into her eyes, and a hundred emotions, a thousand, seemed to flit across her face, and they all of them mattered: but, in the end, only one of them could shine out. “Yes,” she said, and tears glimmered as she gazed deep into Vinyl, and saw, perhaps, herself. “Yes,” she said again, and hugged Vinyl close, close as two souls can ever be, and wept. “Thank you, I love you, yes.”
And as the guards hammered against the door, and the wall heated up to boiling point, in the vault, two ponies heard none of that. One, a pale mare, with a shock of blue mane, opened up a letter, and the other, a silken grey mare with a mane that poured like water, held on tight. They stood together, and read together the flowing, silvery words that sparkled upon the page, words written by one, in the ink of another, in an awkward, inelegant hoof, but that didn’t matter, because the words themselves were true and sang with a beauty all of their own. They kissed, and vanished.
Somewhere, out there, two ponies sit together, and laugh together, and love together, and feed each other bagels and don’t use spoons and play music together that would shake the world, if anypony heard it. But nopony does, not the best of it, anyway, for that belongs to them and them alone: it is their melody, their harmony, their togetherness. It is Vinyl’s, and it is Tavi’s, and they are each of them each other’s.