//------------------------------// // 2. Makes it all Complete // Story: Tales of Ponyville // by RainbowDoubleDash //------------------------------// Here’s a bit of free advice: never look back at your life and try to write down the names of all the friends you’ve had over the years. You’ll just depress yourself as you realize how many friends you once had, but no longer do, due to moving away from them, or them moving away from you, or just drifting apart…or getting into fights with them, the kinds of fights that end friendships. Why am I giving that advice? Because I did that recently – started just an hour ago, actually, since I couldn’t really bring myself to work seeing as Pokey is…well, I gave him a few days off, and hopefully he’ll calm down. Anyway, in my life I’ve had more than seventy ponies I’d call ‘friends.’ Seventy! I currently have five. I had six, but I don’t think Pokey’s really in that category anymore. Seven even, if you want to count Dinky, but she’s just a school foal, while I’m an adult, so I don’t think I can really count her without eyebrows raising. So…five. Out of seventy. But wait, it gets worse, because you can’t just write down the names on a piece of paper, you have to remember why you’re not friends with them anymore, or at least that’s what you’ll end up remembering. And yeah, I remember that Spring Heart just moved from Neigh Orleans to Trottingham, and Crater Twist and me just kind of stopped hanging out, and then there’s a whole slew of ponies I used to know in Neigh Orleans that I just lost touch with when I moved to Canterlot… …but then I remember ponies like Chocolate Tail, who got sick of hearing me go on about being Luna’s apprentice, and Ink Blot, who…got sick of hearing me go on about being Luna’s apprentice, and Cloud Dasher – who got sick of hearing me go on about being Luna’s apprentice, and Butter Truffle, who…hey, it’s not because I kept harping on about being Luna’s apprentice! No, I called her fat. I regretted it instantly – well, not instantly, but… …look, I regret it now, okay? I wish I hadn’t done it, but I did, and now she hates me. Rain Dancer? Drove her away. Brawny Heart? Drove him away. Daisy Meadow? Drove her away. Dream Treasure? Drove her away. Toodle Roo? Drove him away, though to be fair to me he was really annoying. Then there’s a whole load of ponies all at once in the end there: Amethyst Star, Bright Prism, Winter Wind, Dapple Flicker, Honey Sprinkles, Roller Crackle…I had a whole ton, but then I brought an ice palace down on top of all our heads. Melted it. Still not entirely clear on what happened, don’t think I ever will be, but it was the after-graduation party for Luna’s magic academy, and I don’t even know why I attended. And to be perfectly honest, none of them were really friends, though I think I was making headway… …well. There’s more, but it was really just a depressing list – a whole lot of failure. Except for the first five names I wrote down. Still, it doesn’t take a genius to notice a pattern with all the friends I’ve had. Yeah, some I just lost contact with, some moved away, and to be fair to me sometimes I was the one who cut things off. Once or twice. But overwhelmingly? The most common reason why I don’t know all these ponies anymore? Because I screwed up. Because I said something I shouldn’t have or did something I shouldn’t have done, sometimes one big thing, sometimes too many little things over the course of our friendships…and they all ended, and it was my fault. And the same thing will happen this time, too. It’s not something I want – Luna knows I don’t want it – but, I mean, looking at cold, hard numbers, looking at the list of seventy ponies I’ve known, I know it’s coming one of these days. Stupid pattern recognition. --- Trixie stared at the cup full of green liquid that sat on her kitchen counter as the rain continued to pour outside. In her mind’s eye, it stared back at her malevolently. Drink me, it seemed to say. Drink me instead of that swill. The truth will set you free. “You’re not the truth,” Trixie informed the cup, even as she took a sip from another cup, this one floating in her telekinetic grasp and containing nothing more offensive that coffee with lemon and a pinch of cinnamon. “Truth is a Scourge. The zebras knew what they were doing when they named you. You’re evil.” I’m not evil. I’m just honest. I just make you say what’s on your mind…whether you want to or not. It’s not my fault that what’s on your mind isn’t the kind of thing that ponies want to hear. Trixie grimaced. “Evil,” she insisted. It’s not my fault you think the way you do about Pokey Pierce. I just helped you get your true feeling out into the open. “Those are not my true feelings. That was stuff I said in panic when I realized just how out-of-control the effect was getting. Then Pokey came in and you made me start blabbering about what I thought about his horn obsession.” Truth is a Scourge was a potion that Trixie had pulled from a zebra spellbook some months back. She’d held off on brewing up a batch to practice on, though, having had her fill of the bizarre, ritual-based magic of the zebras on her first day of seriously practicing their magic, a long, bizarre day full of a considerable amount of difficulty and exhaustion. She had been meaning to try it sooner, but then a unicorn named Twilight Sparkle had come to Ponyville and…well, that was an eventful, surprisingly bear-filled night, once that Trixie was none too proud of due to how things had ended between her and Twilight, who had only been looking to further her understanding of magic. Instead, she was now a wanted criminal, and while most of the blame for that lay on Twilight’s shoulders, a not insignificant amount was on Trixie’s own. The only upside to it all had been that Twilight had left behind her wagon full of magical books and tomes, which Trixie had appropriated in order to expand her magical knowledge (as a large part of what had happened with Twilight could have been avoided had Trixie been a better sorceress). Trying to learn those spells had consumed most of the intervening time – when it hadn’t been consumed by her job as Representative of the Night Court to Ponyville, the machinations of her increasing number of Night Court rivals, marauding parasprites, the agents of the Tyrant Sun, the secrets of Andalantis, and, Trixie had to admit, her own desire to generally do as little work as possible. But, a few days ago, Trixie had found the directions and ingredients for Truth is a Scourge while cleaning out the desk in her office, and decided to at last give it a try. And technically, it was a resounding success. Pokey Pierce had not been amused, however, by the diarrhea of the mouth that Trixie had acquired while under the potion’s effects. Should he really be working for you if you’re going to think so little of him? “I don’t think little of him! And I hate you. Evil.” Trixie paused as she considered the cup. “And…and an inanimate object. You’re going down the sink now.” Trixie’s horn glowed brightly as she dumped the contents of the cup into the kitchen sink. No….! “Oh yes,” Trixie said, smiling brightly as she listened to the splatter of the truth is a scourge potion pouring down the drain, slowly, without any ability to save its evil self. After several moments, however, Trixie realized that the sound of the splashing sounds reaching her ears were far louder than they were supposed to be. She rolled her eyes as she looked up, pausing in pouring out Truth is a Scourge, expecting to see the rain having picked up – why there was rain today, she didn’t know, the weather schedule had called for a storm next week, and it was something she’d have to bring up next time she attended a town meeting – but, outside, the rain seemed to be coming down with no more intensity than it had been able to work up for the past hour. Nevertheless, she heard splashing, and – hoof-stomps? – outside, in her back yard. Curiosity getting the better of her, Trixie set down the evil potion – its cup still a little more than half-empty – and wandered over to her back door, opening it up telekinetically and bringing her coffee with her, about to take a sip when she was given something new for her mental list of ‘strangest things she had ever seen:’ Raindrops, Element of Honesty, weather pony with a severe anger problem who was more than a little intimidating to Trixie, stomping around in a six-inch deep puddle of water that had managed to form in Trixie’s backyard. The jasmine pegasus’ eyes were closed as she let herself fall over and wallowed in the water muck and grass, wings flapping and tossing water into the air, head shaking so that her mane would be totally soaked. Then just as suddenly, Raindrops was on her hooves again, bucking like a bronco a few times before simply prancing in place. “I love rain!” Raindrops called out at length. “What are you doing?” Trixie asked at nearly the same time, before she could stop herself. Raindrops froze at the sound of Trixie’s voice, eyes opening as she slowly turned, as though taking her surroundings in for the first time. Trixie stood stock still even as she did, wondering what kind of terror she may have just unleashed as Raindrops, soaking wet, covered in mud and loose grass, locked eyes with Trixie, her own eyes wide and a look of barely-contained anger on her… …no, wait, that wasn’t barely-contained anger at all. That was slight surprise that eroded into a kind of embarrassed, but happy, chuckle, as Raindrops rubbed a hoof behind her head. “Eh heh heh…” she laughed. “Hi, Trixie.” Trixie stared. “I’m, uh…sorry, didn’t know this was your backyard,” Raindrops continued, fluttering her wings slightly. “Um…well, I didn’t notice it was your backyard, is what I meant.” Trixie stared. “Um…Trixie?” Trixie’s eyes narrowed. Images of Raindrops flashed through her mind, the Raindrops she knew, the Raindrops who was her friend, the Raindrops she was terrified of inciting to anger. That Raindrops may have liked the rain, but there was a considerable difference between liking the rain, and splashing like a pig in mud while it was raining. Plus, she was a weather pony, and she hated unexpected changes to the weather routine – Trixie had vivid memories of the Longest Night and her bumbling attempts to either fix or exacerbate the potential weather problems on that night, not caring which she achieved. Raindrops had nearly murdered her. The real Raindrops wouldn’t be acting like this during an unscheduled storm. No, Trixie was certain that instead, she’d be up in the skies fighting it, or else chewing out or wailing on her boss, Rainbow Dash, in either case her anger elicited at this violation of schedule. Which meant only one thing. “Imposter!” “Wait, what?” The pegasus imposter asked, a look of fairly convincing confusion overcoming her face as Trixie’s coffee mug slipped from her grasp and hit the floor of Trixie’s kitchen, its contents flying everywhere, though thankfully the mug itself didn’t break. Trixie didn’t let the imposter’s convincing act dissuade her as she wove magic, determined to take out this imposter – Night Court spy? Zizanie or Twilight Sparkle, back for revenge? She wasn’t sure yet – as quickly as possible. First, she wove a glamor over her own eyes that would prevent all light from reaching them – rendering her blind, yes, but also rendering her immune to the spell she cast simultaneously, a painfully bright flash from her horn. She heard the imposter Raindrops cry out in pain as light as bright as a magnesium flare went off only a few feet from her face. Trixie dropped the glamor over her eyes, and saw the imposter stumbling. Her quarry distracted, she reached out telekinetically, wrapping her aura around the pegasus – if she really was a pegasus – and pulling her inside, keeping her suspended in the air over her kitchen. The imposter was rubbing her eyes with her coronets as she did. “Argh! Trixie! Put me down!” “No!” Trixie exclaimed, as her horn glowed. She turned herself invisible, and at the same time created an illusory double a few feet away. As an extra precaution, she herself also moved from her original spot, more magic around her hooves to hide the sound of her hoof-steps. “I don’t know who you are,” she said, a fourth spell taking her words and projecting them from the illusory double she had created, “and you’ve admittedly managed a very good disguise – actual shape-shift, I’m guessing? – but you’ve got Raindrops’ personality completely wrong!” “Trixie – ” “Amateurish mistake, really,” Trixie pressed on. By now, the imposter’s eyes were open, and she was glaring at the illusion of Trixie, or trying to, though she was still recovering from the flash of light that Trixie had produced. “So! Are you Zizanie?” one of Trixie’s hooves involuntarily went to her horn at that, as she vividly recalled that the spymaster and infiltrator had somehow been able to make Trixie’s horn disappear for several long, agonizing seconds, utterly robbing Trixie of her magic. “Trixie!” “Your little horn-disappearing trick won’t work this time, Zizanie!” Trixie continued, as she made her illusion jab a hoof at Raindrops. “You’re not just being held up by telekinesis. You’re in a bubble of anti-magic!” “I’m not Zizanie!” “Ha!” Trixie laughed. “A likely story. What have you done with the real Raindrops?” “I am Raindrops!” “No, you’re not!” Trixie exclaimed. “The real Raindrops wouldn’t be wallowing in mud during an unscheduled rainstorm! She’d be beating up Rainbow Dash or else flying around and breaking apart the clouds to vent some frustration! She’s a giant ball of anger and hate!” The imposter paused at that, staring at the illusion of Trixie, unmoving and mouth hanging open for several moments, before a gradual shift overcame her features – nothing changed, per se, but her muscles tensed a little, her neck drooped slightly, her look of worry and concern fell into a more neutral position, albeit one that was obviously held at a neutral position, at great personal effort. Trixie blinked at the change. “Um, wow,” she said. “Uh…yeah, like I said, good disguise. Body language, counts for a lot. That’s how Raindrops is.” The imposter closed her eyes. “I am Raindrops,” she said again. Her voice had dropped a few octaves as well, and her words came out somewhat more haltingly, like she was biting back every syllable – once more, just like the real Raindrops, most of the time, when she wasn’t breaking apart cobblestone streets with her bare, unshod hooves. Apparently this imposter was quite good once she got ‘in the zone,’ as it were. “What’s it going to take to prove it?” Trixie tapped a hoof to her mouth for a moment, then smiled when she spotted the still-half-empty cup of Truth is a Scourge. Slowly, she set the imposter Raindrops on the floor, and had her illusion point at the cup even as she released Raindrops from her grip. “That is a truth potion!” she said. “Once you drink it, all your secrets will – hey, wait!” The imposter had, without hesitating after hearing the words "truth potion," gone over to the cup and drank the entire concoction in a single swig. She afterwards looked to Trixie. “How long ‘til it kicks in?” she asked. Trixie blinked. “Um…n-not until I activate it, I modified the spell so that I can ‘switch it on,’” she said, a sinking feeling in her stomach. Was this, after all, the real Raindrops? No! Impossible! It was far more likely that this imposter had taken some kind of precaution against truth potions. Or so she thought. Given how very rare zebra magic was in Equestria, she doubted if a single pony other than Princess Luna had a way to counter Truth is a Scourge. “So?” The imposter demanded. “Activate it.” Trixie blinked a few times, then sent a burst of magic – just a tiny flick, really – towards Raindrops. “I am Raindrops – ” Trixie flinched. “ – and it’s raining outside that’s why I was in such a good mood – ” Trixie supposed that made a degree of sense. “ – I’m always in a good mood when it rains oh except for when somepony I thought was my friend accuses me of being an imposter and decides to blind me and make me drink this stupid truth potion why can’t I stop talking – ” “That’s how the potion works,” Trixie said. Raindrops continued without slowing down, glaring at the illusion of Trixie. Trixie grimaced, dispelling the illusion and making herself visible again. Raindrops seemed hardly surprised as she turned to look at the real Trixie, still speaking. “ – I don’t need this right now Trixie my brother was tormented by Silver Spoon who is a little brat and is so lucky she’s just a filly or else I would tear out her throat with my teeth and – ” Raindrops’ eyes widened at that, and her hooves shot up to her mouth, which kept working in spite of the action. “ – I didn't want to say that I'd never do it even though that's how I feel Trixie if I’m stuck like this the way Lyra was stuck as a bear I swear to Luna I will – ” “No!” Trixie exclaimed, even as she sent a magical flick towards Raindrops again. At once, the pegasus’ words stopped pouring from her mouth. Trixie stared a few moments at Raindrops, eyes wide, as Raindrops glared at Trixie. The silence between the two stretched…and stretched…and stretched… Raindrops opened her mouth. “I’m sorry!” Trixie exclaimed, trying at once to canter backwards and raise her forelegs to ward off the blow she knew was coming, even as she tried to shrink back into herself. The result sent her tumbling head over hooves, and when she righted herself she continued to stumble backwards, and found herself against a wall. “I’m sorry! I’m sorry! I didn’t – I thought – I’m sorry!” The expected blows didn’t start falling. Slowly, Trixie opened one eye, and saw Raindrops still staring at her, though her expression had changed, becoming a mixture of sadness and resignation, an almost familiar expression, in fact – one Trixie had, herself, worn on far too many occasions in the past. She did have one raised foreleg, but it was hanging almost limp in the air – a pony reaching out to another, not trying to hit one. And – and were those – were those tears? No. Impossible. Raindrops didn’t cry. It was just rain water in the pegasus’ eyes. “Are…” Raindrops said with surprising softness, lowering her hoof slowly. “Are you afraid of me?” “N-no!” Trixie answered quickly. Just as quickly, she continued. “Just…just, you’re a little, um, touchy, and – ” “And a giant ball of anger and hate,” Raindrops interrupted. She stepped backwards in what could only be described as horror. “You’re terrified of me!” “No! You’re a great friend! R-remember how we dealt with that griffin? Hilda or whatever her name was? Or that ursa minor that Twilight Sparkle brought into town! Ha! That was fun, well not the almost dying part, but we didn’t die so in hindsight it was fun and we had fun together as friends…” “That’s not exactly friend activity, Trixie,” Raindrops countered, brow furrowing. “That’s…that’s just stuff you get the village strong pony for.” She looked away from Trixie, wings somehow managing to sag lower. “You’re afraid of me. You hate me.” Trixie had a problem of shifting her weight from one hoof to the next a lot when caught in the act of something; a moment previously she had been doing it so much that she could have served as a decent drink mixer if somepony had balanced a glass on her back. However, at Raindrops’ conclusion of the unicorn’s feelings towards her, however, she froze. “I…I don’t hate you!” she exclaimed. Raindrops didn’t seem to believe her. “It’s alright, Trixie,” she said, letting out a dull, emotionless laugh. “I’m used to it. Everypony’s afraid of me. Everypony walks on eggshells around me. I know it.” She sighed, hanging her head as she turned around. “I’ll go – ” “Wait – no – ” Trixie said, wondering how Raindrops had somehow managed to turn into a mirror image of her own insecurities – yes, she had them, she knew she had them. Gathering her courage, her horn glowed, and she telekinetically grabbed a hold of Raindrops’ tail, preventing the pegasus from leaving. She turned around at that, looking to Trixie. Trixie paused, not sure exactly how to proceed from here. “I do not hate you,” she stated. “I mean…okay. Yes. You’re terrifying when you get mad, and…and I’d just called you an imposter and so I thought that you were about to hit me a whole lot! And you know what? I deserve it! I made a mistake and screwed up and so I want you to hit me ‘cause I deserve it!” She galloped over to Raindrops, flinching a little when she got close, but then holding her ground. “Come on. I deserve it for what I did! Just like during the Eventime!” Raindrops stared. “Friends don’t hit each other,” she said. “Sure they do!” “Not like this, Trixie.” Raindrops sat back on her haunches, staring at the unicorn. “Friends aren’t afraid of each other.” She looked down, and Trixie somehow knew what she was thinking: she was remembering back during the Longest Night, when Trixie had (theoretically) tried to help a bad situation with the weather patrol, and Raindrops had all but threatened to kill her. She was remembering how, when Raindrops had gone to Trixie over what Rainbow Dash and the griffin Gildra (or whatever), Trixie’s first assumption had been that Raindrops was there to hurt her for something. She was remembering how, when Trixie had insulted and goaded Twilight Sparkle into making a fool of herself in front of all of Ponyville for no real reason, Raindrops had socked her in the jaw, hard. “N-no!” Trixie exclaimed, interrupting Raindrops’ train of thought. “Those were – I deserved the Longest Night and the Eventime, I really did, and let’s face it, I’ve never been a very good friend so I deserved it when you came to my office after what Gilta had done and I thought – ” Raindrops frowned. “I’d forgotten about that…” she intoned. Trixie’s eyes widened. “No! I can’t go down to just four!” she exclaimed. Raindrops looked up at that, puzzled. “What?” Trixie didn’t see it. She’d rushed past Raindrops, towards her office, where she kept all the magical books she’d taken from Twilight’s abandoned wagons and began scanning the titles, looking for the one with the proper spell. She found it in a few moments, and tore it from the shelf telekinetically, opening the pages and beginning to pour through it, looking for the spell she’d seen, the one she needed to fix everything. Something about memory, and…she was awful at learning spells from books, was far better at watching spells being cast and then duplicating them, but this was an emergency. She wasn’t going to screw up another friendship. Not again. Raindrops, probably out of morbid curiosity more than anything, had followed Trixie to her office, watching as Trixie refreshed the spell in her mind, how to cast it, what it entailed, the motions, the movements of magic. In her current state, Trixie was taking in all the directions without fully stopping to realize exactly what the spell entailed. “Trixie?” Raindrops asked. “What are you doing? What do you mean, go down to four?” Trixie snapped the book shut, staring at Raindrops with wide eyes, horn glowing brightly. “I’ll show you!” she exclaimed, dashing forwards. The jasmine-coated pegasus’ wings flared in surprise, and she began to canter backwards, but by then Trixie had reached her, grabbed her head with her front hooves, leaned in, and – – and Trixie and Raindrops were in the ruined Palace of the Royal Pony Sisters. It was months ago, when Corona had returned, when she had tried to kill them, when one by one Cheerilee, and Lyra, and Carrot Top and Ditzy Doo and, yes, Raindrops, had claimed their respective Elements of Harmony. Corona was lashing out at them with fire and magic, but it was no use, the Elements protected them. Only Trixie hadn’t claimed hers yet, but she was about to, she was surrounded on all sides by her friends, waiting for her to make the connections, to realize that the sixth, forgotten Element of Magic was powered by the bonds of friendship that they had forged. Raindrops looked to Trixie. “And…well, your heart was in the right place with the weather-for-hire team,” Raindrops admitted. “So…yeah. Friends?” “Friends,” the other four ponies agreed. Trixie’s eyes were wide. “Fr – ” Raindrops pushed Trixie away from her, eyes wide and sputtering as she ran one hoof across her mouth. “You kissed me!” she exclaimed. Trixie had stumbled slightly from Raindrops’ push, but she kept her balance easily enough as she stared at the pegasus. “That’s how the spell works!” she exclaimed. “It’s…well, the book kind of goes on a bit about magical connections and forming a conduit and other stuff I don’t really get, but that’s how the spell works!” She paused. “And you interrupted it before the good part!” Exactly what Trixie had said hit Raindrops first, and Trixie a moment later. Both ponies felt their faces beginning to redden, and looked away from each other awkwardly. “Um,” Trixie said. “That…that came out wrong.” “Yes,” Raindrops agreed wholeheartedly. Trixie shifted around a little. “It’s a memory-transfer spell,” Trixie said softly. “It sort of copies the memories in my mind and gives them to you. You still know they aren’t yours, but it lets you see things from my perspective.” She looked to Raindrops. “That was my memory of us against Corona. When I earned the Element of Magic. When we beat an alicorn, because we were friends.” Raindrops stared at Trixie. “That…that was then,” Raindrops said. “But you’re terrified of me now – ” “I’m afraid of angry you!” Trixie interrupted. “Who in their right mind wouldn’t be? But I’m the mare who assumed that’s all there was, I’m the mare who saw you happy and assumed that you must have been an imposter. I’m the bad pony here! I’m the horrible friend!” Raindrops blinked. “You’re not a horrible friend.” “Yes I am!” Trixie exclaimed, stamping her fore hooves a few times. “If I was a good friend then I wouldn’t have only five!” “How many do you need?” “I don’t know! I’ve had seventy – ” “You kept score?” “No! …sort of!” Trixie continued to shift and move in place, looking at the ground. “I…I went back and counted recently, all the friends I’ve ever had, and there’s been seventy. Some of them, we just drifted apart, some of them were friends back in Neigh Orleans but then I moved away and we stopped talking…but most of them, most of them I drove away. Because I’m a horrible friend. I’m a horrible pony.” Raindrops and Trixie looked to each other, and silence stretched between the two again. At length, Raindrops broke it. “That memory spell,” Raindrops said. “Does it go both ways? Could you use it to see things from my perspective?” Trixie blinked a few times as she thought. “Um…yes?” she said. “You’d just have to focus on the memories you’d want me to see…” At that, Raindrops closed the distance between the two of them. “Okay,” she said, leaning forward, closing her eyes. “Do that.” Trixie blinked. “Just…kiss you?” she asked, leaning away a little. Raindrops opened one eye. “You were fine with it before.” Trixie supposed she had a point. It wasn’t much different than actors on a stage, really. Sighing slightly, horn glowing, she leaned in – The ruined palace in the Everfree again, Corona railing and lashing out again, but this time Trixie was looking at herself, seeing things through the eyes of a pegasus who had shards of glowing orange rocks – the former vessel for the Element of Honesty – orbiting her neck. More than just looking – she was feeling everything that Raindrops felt. Raindrops was afraid, of course. Corona was the Tyrant Sun, and surely even the Elements of Harmony would eventually give way to her raw power, her destructive rage. Raindrops was angry, too, angry at the situation, angry at Zecora the zebra for betraying them to Corona. And she was determined – despite her fear, despite her anger, she was going to stand up for Equestria, stand up to the Tyrant Sun, and send the mad alicorn back into the heart of the sun, where she belonged. But those emotions gave way when Raindrops realized that Trixie hadn’t claimed her Element yet. Raindrops, herself, had chosen Honesty – been chosen by Honesty – both, neither, at the same time. She was Honesty, in some metaphysical sense that she couldn’t explain. But Trixie was having trouble, not claiming her Element, but in even believing that she should have one in the first place. Didn’t the filly have basic pattern recognition? Going beyond everything the six of them had fought and suffered through on the way to the Elements – the sirens, the poison joke, the dragon attack – what made her think that she didn’t deserve to stand beside them, that she wasn’t supposed to be there? “You’re not my friends,” she pointed out to them. “You all hate me.” Cheerilee laughed. “Trixie, we don’t hate you. So you can be a jerk. So what? So can everypony. But we wouldn’t even be here without you.” “You made my muffin smile,” Dinky Doo pointed out. “That makes you a friend in my book.” “You also walked through poison joke for me,” Lyra pointed out. “You helped my farm,” Carrot Top added. “And…well, your heart was in the right place with the weather-for-hire team,” Raindrops admitted. She had been hard on Trixie, she knew, harder than she should have been. Angry over what really amounted to nothing. And if there was any time to extend an olive branch, it was now. “So…yeah. Friends?” “Friends,” the other four ponies agreed. Trixie’s eyes were wide. “Friends,” she echoed softly. Raindrops pulled away from Trixie again, shoving her away once more when she felt something in her mouth that was emphatically not supposed to be there. “Tongue?” She demanded. “Tongue? Why was there tongue?” “That’s what the spell says,” Trixie objected. “That’s a lie! There wasn’t tongue the first time!” “That’s because you interrupted it before we could reach the good part!” Trixie’s horn glowed as she levitated the spellbook over to Raindrops, holding it up. Raindrops blushed. This particular page outlined – in the most scientific, arcane way possible – not only the way the kiss that began the spell was supposed to be performed, but even exactly when during the spell’s course to turn the kiss into a Prench one, and exactly how much tongue was required. It also came with a helpful illustration. “What are you doing?” Raindrops and Trixie both jumped at the voice, from behind Raindrops, who instinctively dove forward, wings spreading in panic, even as Trixie’s own unicorn instincts took over and she instead planted herself firmly on the ground, horn glowing. The result was Raindrops crashing into Trixie, and the two ponies landed on the ground in a pile of legs and wings. The two began untangling themselves from each other, but froze – in a somewhat compromising position – when they saw the source of the voice. Cheerilee stared at Trixie and Raindrops. Raindrops and Trixie stared at Cheerilee. All three sets of eyes turned to the fallen book, on the floor of Trixie’s office, which had helpfully elected to remain open to the intricately detailed picture of two ponies in the middle of a complex act of arcane power that just happened to involve a kiss. With tongue. “Um,” Trixie said. --- Okay. The good news? Raindrops, I’m pretty sure, doesn’t hate me. And, I’ve learned that she’s not all anger. In hindsight, I should have known that, and it was wrong of me to think of her as just some one-note pony. I still have all five of my friends. I’m not going to lose them, like I’ve lost all the others. Screw the pattern. Forget the cold, hard facts. I’m not losing any of them. The bad news? I’m going to have an interesting time explaining to Cheerilee what she just walked in on. Hopefully she’s reasonable.