Rarity briskly walked down the corridor leading to her boss’s office, ignoring the looks of admiration and jealousy from her coworkers with practiced ease. Two minutes to go, she thought and pressed her lips together in a slightly forced smile. Not enough time to triple-check your make-up. Too much time to avoid wondering what this is all about.
She wasn’t in trouble; that was a given. She hadn’t spent the last fifteen years of her life pulling all-nighters and sixty-hour weeks just to end up with a so-so record, after all. Also, when you’re in trouble, you don’t get an invitation to join the boss, but rather a visit by Tom from Security, who will kindly help you put your belongings in a small box and escort you out of the building. Besides, I already-... She turned around a corner and narrowed her eyes. “Hello, darling,” she hissed at the creature that was also waiting in front of the large office doors.
The griffon gave her a lazy smile and a casual, raised middle finger. “Hello, dweeb,” Gilda replied.
“Miss Belle, please have a seat,” the elderly pony sitting behind his desk muttered and pointed at the empty seat next to Gilda’s. “And please try not to escalate the hostilities to the point where I need to reach for the fire extinguisher again - she will see both of you in a minute.”
“I’d rather stand if it’s all the same to you, Kibitz,” Rarity tried, making a point to literally look down on the sitting griffon.
“It is not,” Kibitz replied without missing a beat. “Sit.”
“Ohhh, you got told,” Gilda whispered and didn’t make any effort to hide her wide grin as Rarity sat down next to her.
“Your fly’s open,” Rarity whispered back, staring straight ahead.
Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Gilda hesitating. “Like I give a crap, rookie,” her rival finally decided to call her bluff.
“I started one week after you,” Rarity replied evenly, not giving her the satisfaction or the peace of mind of revealing whether or not she had been bluffing. “One. Week.”
“A lot can happen in one week.” There was an edge in Gilda’s tone that made the hair stand up on the back of her neck. “Always remember that.”
“You-”
“She will see you now,” Kibitz cut her off, his tone calm but firm.
“Thank you, Kibitz,” they replied and got up in perfect unison before turning towards the double doors leading to their boss’s office. The doors swung open with a quiet hiss and closed just as smoothly behind them. “Ma’am,” both of them said in a carefully practiced neutral tone.
The office was huge but sparsely decorated. Of course, Rarity knew that this was no accident or design quirk; everything in here had been carefully engineered to make the large desk and equally impressive chair in the middle of the room the absolute center of attention.
“Ladies,” Miss Lestia greeted them and slowly swung around on her chair to face them.
Rarity narrowed her eyes slightly as she considered that this, too, had been a carefully practiced motion. Of course it was. You don’t become CEO of a Fortune 500 company by leaving anything to chance.
The white-coated alicorn gave them a quick once-over, expression unreadable as usual.
Much like Rarity, Gilda was wearing a custom-made business formal suit worth a small fortune. Ignoring that Rarity had nailed the color coordination better, the sole difference in their outfits was that Rarity had gone with a dress skirt while her rival had opted for dress pants. Perfect look. Both of us. Should’ve taken the extra time for make-up to ensure an edge over Gilda. Or at least another cup of coffee.
“Heh.” Miss Lestia gave them a hint of a smile. “Not even a bandage? Did I interrupt you before things had a chance to get good?”
“She was late, Ma’am,” Gilda immediately explained, and Rarity barely resisted the urge to tear off her leonine tail for the jab.
“How unfortunate,” Miss Lestia commented drily. Then, without taking her eyes off of them, she opened a drawer and pulled out a butcher knife. “Would you like to wrap things up?”
“The moment passed-” Rarity started to reply.
“-but thanks for your consideration,” Gilda finished with practiced ease.
“Just as well.” She let the knife drop back into the drawer and closed it. A moment of silence passed. Then, when the two rivals had failed to seize the opening for a surprise attack, Miss Lestia smiled. “You are probably wondering why you are here.”
Yes. Rarity gave a careful noncommittal shrug. Next to her, Gilda did the same.
Miss Lestia picked up a remote and pushed a button on it. A projector hidden in the ceiling came to life and threw a picture at the wall to their right. It was a photograph of some rural area, taken from very high up. A few dozen homes that looked like something straight from the middle ages, some farms, and various other buildings were visible in the center of the shot, surrounded by what looked like literal miles of wilderness. “Ladies, say hello to Ponyville.” She nodded happily, then gestured at it for emphasis. “Tell me what you see.”
“Hell,” was Gilda’s immediate reaction. Rival or not, Rarity allowed herself a friendly laugh.
“Funny. But tell me how this looks to you.” Miss Lestia pushed another button. The image changed slightly - while most of the wilderness was still present, the village was gone entirely. In its place stood a massive, computer-generated building complex not unlike the one they were currently standing in.
Very, very much not unlike the one they were currently standing in.
Oh, I see where this is going, Rarity thought. Next to her, Gilda gave the projection a downright predatory grin, reminding Rarity once again that, beyond their professional rivalry and occasional friendly jokes, there were massive differences between them: I’m thinking about what floor would have the best view over the forest. She is fantasizing about personally bulldozing the village. Choo choo. She frowned. Do bulldozers go choo choo? I think they don’t. Hm.
Another click of the remote made them focus again. The areal view was gone, and instead, Rarity was looking at what seemed to be the first search result for “farm family with dog” on some stock photo site. Oh, and everypony is wearing flannel shirts for that extra country look BECAUSE HOW ELSE WOULD WE KNOW IT’S PROPERLY RURAL? IT’S NOT LIKE THE GIANT FARMHOUSE IN THE BACKGROUND MIGHT CLUE US IN!
“Meet the Apple family.” Miss Lestia either hadn’t noticed or had chosen to ignore Rarity’s slightly aggravated whine. “I want what they have.”
“A loving family?” Gilda asked, then snorted when Rarity spun around and gave her a wide-eyed stare. “Alright, that maybe was a bit close to-HURGH!”
The golden aura that had appeared around Gilda’s neck tightened slightly before moving upwards, forcing the griffon to stand on the toes of her leonine footpaws. Her beak opened and closed uselessly, and Rarity could hear just the faintest gasps coming from her. The impulse to help and defend her coworker clashed with the knowledge that said coworker was Gilda, and after a moment of hesitation, she simply looked straight ahead again. Don’t feel guilty; she had it coming. And do you really want to contradict your boss to defend your rival?
Miss Lestia walked around her desk and towards Gilda with measured steps, but her aura of calm was not as strong as the magical aura around her horn. “I would like to remind you that my sister and I reconciled after our... spat,” she said, deliberately keeping her voice even. “As such, what I am about to do should not be seen as an act of revenge.”
“Hrgh!?” Gilda asked, but there was enough pressure on either her windpipe or her vocal cords that she couldn’t be more verbose.
“Instead, please regard this as an errand.” Miss Lestia produced a coin seemingly out of nowhere and placed it in Gilda’s shirt pocket. “I would like you to get me a coffee from one of the vending machines.”
And with that, she opened a window, nearly causing a passing eagle to smash into the building due to the shifting air currents. Rarity had to drop into a slight crouch to fight the gusts of wind that swept through the office.
“No milk. Two sugars.” And with that, she magically chucked Gilda out and closed the window.
Rarity had to force herself not to react. It’s okay; Gilda has wings. Also, it had been a really low blow to invoke her sister, who had nearly caused the bankruptcy of this company out of sheer spite. So you don’t want to side with her in front of the boss. Besides, if that had been me, Gilda most likely wouldn’t have lifted a talon to help me, and I don’t have wings.
“Kibitz,” Miss Lestia said after pressing a button on her intercom, “I sent Miss Dawnstar on an errand.”
“I see, Ma’am,” came the immediate reply. A moment later, a short chime played over the PA system. Rarity raised an eyebrow at the loudspeaker in the office but chose to remain still. “May I have your attention, please,” Kibitz’s voice came from the speakers that had been strategically placed in the entire building. “As part of routine maintenance, all elevators and escalators will be taken down for the next ten minutes. If you scheduled a meeting on another floor, please factor in...”
Rarity tuned him out and allowed herself the tiniest of smirks. Yes, Gilda, have fun taking the stairs. It’s good cardio! “Your coffee is going to be cold, Ma’am,” she said, her neutral tone belying the fact that she had just witnessed her coworker being choked and defenestrated by her boss.
“Oh, please, you didn’t rise to your current rank without carefully studying every habit and preference I ever displayed.” Miss Lestia smirked even as Rarity stiffened. “And that’s fine. I can hire ten summa cum laude graduates before this meeting is over. But if I told any of those to buy some tea, would they know which brand I prefer? No. That’s why I keep you and Gilda around. Or... kept, at least.” Miss Lestia said and tilted her head at the projected image.
Kept me around? Past tense? Rarity’s eyes flicked over to the image of the Apple family. Ponyville. New company building. Her mind was racing towards a conclusion she hadn’t even dared to dream about, but she shut it down before it could cloud her senses. “Ah,” was all she managed to say without croaking.
Miss Lestia slowly sat down behind her desk again. “Anyway.” She was looking amused by Rarity’s struggle. “How is your sister?”
...what? “My sis-... I mean...” She quickly shook her head, trying not to dwell on whether or not her stammering had just worsened her chances of whatever her boss had in store for her. “Sweetie is doing fine. Top grades. It might just be her first year at Canterlot University, but if she keeps it up, she’ll be in the top ten percent of her class for sure.”
Miss Lestia very briefly narrowed her eyes, and Rarity feared that she would call out her lie. But the moment passed, and her boss merely nodded, faint and unreadable smile back in place: “I see.”
They stood in silence for a few more minutes, giving Rarity a chance to study the projected photograph a bit more: Lovely grandmother, she started with the oldest pony in the picture, probably built the farm herself two hundred years ago. I suppose the country life kept her fit if she only uses a walker at her age. Quite likely keeps a shotgun hidden near the front door, and even more likely won’t need it if you happen to threaten her family while being in grabbing range. Her eyes flicked over to the single stallion in the photo. Somepony missed his true calling in the moving business - I’ll bet you anything that he can lift a grand piano with one arm. The guy looks like somebody wrapped a mountain in a pair of jeans and lots of flannel and called it a day. She briefly imagined what would happen if he overheard anypony saying something mean about his family. When her mental images started to look like gruesome outtakes from a horror movie, she quickly moved on to the next pony. The mare was younger than the stallion, possibly putting her in Rarity’s age group if the photo wasn’t too old yet. But any similarity with Rarity ended there: this Earth pony meant business, and although she wasn’t as... imposing as the stallion, she still looked as if she had been raised on a steady diet of protein shakes. And if anypony said something mean about-... yeah, look, let’s just decide never to insult this family while any member of it is in earshot, okay? Okay. The last pony in the photo was also the youngest, but not by too much. And unlike the rest of her family, she didn’t look as if she could tear a car in half with her bare hands. Probably adopted.
The door to the office was pushed open with much more force than necessary, making Rarity jump. “Next time you send me BASE jumping, at least make sure I got my ID with me,” Gilda snarled. “The guard very nearly didn’t let me in.”
“Where’s my coffee?” Miss Lestia asked, completely ignoring the griffon’s rant.
“Machine’s broken. Something prolly came loose inside around the third time I threw the guard against it.” Gilda casually tossed the coin she had received earlier back at her. “Besides, if it’s not Spiffing Tea, you-”
“Yakshire Tea,” Miss Lestia and Rarity corrected her simultaneously.
“-won’t even touch it,” Gilda finished her sentence without missing a beat.
“Very well.” Miss Lestia sighed and pressed the intercom button again: “Be a dear and send the janitor to check on the coffee machine in the lobby.” She paused without taking her finger off the button. “Oh, and I believe it’s time for an audit. Get some folks from Personnel Resources involved and focus on security. I want guards, not push-overs.”
“Very well, Ma’am,” came the immediate reply.
“Right. Where were we?”
“Ponyville,” Rarity replied.
“Tossing employees out of windows,” Gilda replied.
“It’s always about you, isn’t it?” Rarity mused and rolled her eyes.
“And never forget that,” Gilda hissed.
“Ah, this is going to be so much fun!” Miss Lestia cheered and rewarded their antics with a surprisingly cruel grin. “I might have an official betting pool for the first casualty during your business trip.”
Business trip. Rarity’s eyes once again flicked over to the projected image. “You’re sending us to buy that farm?”
“Such lack of vision...” Miss Lestia sighed once again. “Gilda?”
“We’re going to buy Ponyville,” came the immediate and obvious reply.
Rarity mentally kicked herself for blurting out a far too timid mission statement. You’ve literally seen the plan, and you get stuck on that stupid farm? Argh!
“However, Rarity does have her eyes on the lynchpin,” Miss Lestia added to soften the blow somewhat. “Sweet Apple Acres is what is holding that village afloat. Once we own it, the rest of the villagers will have little choice but to sell as well.”
She pressed another button on her remote, switching back to the image of the computer-generated skyscraper. “The Ponyville location is perfectly suited for a second company headquarters. It will generate positive press about moving some of our poor, stressed employees out of the city. And if we play our cards right, the new Location Manager will oversee expansion into other parts of the nearby country. We could pull in ponies from Appleloosa and cater to non-pegasus ponies from the Los Pegasus area. Move out of the city, make the city come to us.” Her voice dropped to a low, seductive whisper. “The new Location Manager would be the second-highest position in the company, effectively becoming the CEO of that HQ and answering solely to me.” She smiled. “And who would be more deserving of that position than whoever delivers it to me?”
Rarity’s mouth went dry. Promotion. Massive, MASSIVE promotion. Number Two of the company? A pleasant shiver ran down her spine. “Cons-”
“Consider it done,” Gilda’s voice cut her off, and she jumped slightly - for a moment, she had forgotten that there was one major, griffon-shaped obstacle in her way.
Her eyes flicked over to her coworker, but that Gilda was gone. In her place was a feral griffon who would eagerly do anything it would take to get that promotion.
Literally.
Anything.
If Miss Lestia even remotely suggested right now that throwing me out of the window would be an acceptable way to end this contest, I would hit the asphalt in ten seconds flat. Very, very flat.
Miss Lestia didn’t seem to realize the change in Gilda’s attitude. Then she reached into a drawer and pulled out two thick Manila folders - Rarity was very glad that she hadn’t pulled out that knife again - which she rolled up and stuffed into cylindrical containers with a spark of magic. The containers quickly hovered towards and into two pneumatic tubes discreetly hidden under her desk. “The information we have gathered on Ponyville will be waiting in your offices. You will depart from here tomorrow at 8am. Whoever delivers me the ownership papers of Sweet Apple Acres and the rest of Ponyville wins.”
Gilda slowly turned her head to give Rarity the most predatory stare-down ever. “And what about the loser?”
“I have no interest in keeping somebody around who can’t even close a simple deal or stand up to her coworker.” Miss Lestia pretended to check her nails. “However, the new location could surely benefit from somebody good at reading her boss’s preferences and needs.”
Rarity’s eyes went wide at that. Whoever doesn’t win is going to be some sort of assistant or even secretary of the winner? Her eyes flicked over to Gilda, who was grinning openly now. Coupled with her glare of death, the look sent shivers down her spine. She took a deep breath. “And what if the winner has no need for a cut-throat opportunist under her?”
Miss Lestia gave her a thin-lipped smile. “You can cross that bridge when you get to it.”
They made it to the elevator without saying a word. The silver doors slid open, and the ponies inside rapidly left the cab when they saw that the company’s most ruthlessly competitive duo was about to enter.
The elevator doors closed, leaving Rarity locked in a box with her rival. She took a deep breath. “Well, talk about a sudden end-of-year shake-”
The grab came out of nowhere.
Rarity had, of course, expected it, and it wasn’t going to be her first physical encounter with her coworker. However, she was never quite prepared for the raw strength and speed that griffons naturally possessed.
She grunted when Gilda slammed her against the far wall, determined not to give her the satisfaction of more signs of pain. A taloned hand pressed her face against the wall while the elbow of the griffon’s other arm dug into her side. “No cream, no sugar,” Gilda rasped. “You better get around to memorizing my coffee preference early - I don’t tolerate mistakes in my banisters.” Rarity could almost feel her grin - Gilda had always enjoyed power play. “If I can’t use my coffee to coat my roof, then-”
The rest of the banter was lost amid a hailstorm of curses after Rarity’s hoof slammed into the side of Gilda’s knee. Gilda took a step back, giving Rarity all the space she needed to spin around, grab one of her assailant’s wrists, and twist it.
“YOU MOTH-AAAAaaaaa...” Gilda finally managed to take some pressure off her wrist by bending over at a weird angle, and Rarity expertly held her at arm’s length. For long seconds, the only sounds in the cab were the griffon’s quiet pants, but then she laughed: “Heh, ya finally learned to fight back a bit! Not too shabby!”
“Yeah, yeah, you like them feisty, I know.” Rarity merely rolled her eyes. “Has anybody ever told you that you talk too much?”
Before Gilda could answer, the elevator came to a halt, and the doors opened to reveal two mares waiting on the other side. “This is your floor, Miss Dawnstar,” Gilda’s personal assistant spoke up, her smile equal parts polite and smug, as usual. She casually reached into one of the apparently hundreds of hidden pockets in her cape and pulled out a mug. “I took the liberty to prepare your usual drink.”
There was the old saying, “Dress for the job you want - not the one you have,” but Trixie Lulamoon was either trying to play both sides or to see what she could get away with. Rarity could think of no other possible explanation for why Gilda’s assistant was wearing a grey skirt suit underneath a purple, star-spangled cape. The matching, oversized wizard hat completed the outfit of the company’s most eccentric and third-most competent personal assistant.
“At least somepony here knows how to please me,” Gilda snarled as Rarity released her from the wrist lock. She started to step out of the elevator but couldn’t help but give Rarity a pointed look over her shoulder. “But don’t worry. I’m sure you’ll learn that as well... once you accepted your place.”
Rarity gritted her teeth but barely managed not to take the bait. She only allowed herself a smirk once Gilda was outside the cab and the second mare had entered. “The word is ‘barista’ and not ‘banister,’ you halfbreed idiot.”
Her timing was perfect, with the elevator doors closing slowly enough to let her see how Gilda’s scowl turned into raw anger, but fast enough to make Gilda slam against them instead of into her. She gave the mare next to her a satisfied smile. “This never gets old.”
“Yes, the paperwork following your casual and repeated speciesism indeed never gets old, Miss Belle.” Twilight Sparkle pretended to smooth her already perfectly smooth skirt. “Shall I prepare the usual excuse that it was simply a play of words regarding Miss Dawnstar being half lion and half-”
“Later.”
“Oh?” Her assistant cocked her head, knowing better than to waste more words after Rarity had already cut her off once.
“What’s the fastest car we got?” Rarity asked as the elevator doors opened on her floor.
“The Corvid ZR1,” Twilight replied without even pretending to think about it, easily keeping up with Rarity’s brisk pace down the corridor.
“Book it. Starting tomorrow, duration... a week, maybe two.” Rarity pushed open the door to Twilight’s office and grabbed the cylinder waiting in the pneumatic tube. “We’re-”
“It has already been booked.”
Rarity nearly choked, then looked at Twilight, who had opted to use her cellphone to do her boss’s bidding as soon as physically possible. Did-... no, there is no way she was faster...
“For Miss Dawnstar,” Twilight confirmed her worst fear without being prompted.
“Did-... How-...” Rarity’s adrenaline high from the elevator ride was finally demanding release, and she gestured from Twilight to the door and back with far more energy than was strictly necessary. “Gilda was faster? GILDA. WAS. FASTER?”
“Miss Lulamoon booked-”
“HOW? HOW DID SHE MANAGE TO GET THIS ORDER IN FASTER THAN ME?”
“-the car-”
“HOW DID YOU MANAGE TO LET THIS SLIP PAST YOU?”
“five-”
“YOU FAILED TO DO ONE SIMPLE THING FASTER THAN TRIXIE?”
“-minutes ago.”
“YOU DON’T GET PAID TO BE SLOWER THAN FU-...” Rarity froze as Twilight’s words finally made it past her outburst. “...did you just say that she booked the car five minutes ago?”
“I did,” Twilight replied curtly as if her boss had not just gone on an insane, adrenaline-fueled rant.
“But... how...?” She led Twilight through another door into her own office and collapsed into her chair. Her personal assistant was already typing rapidly on her phone, probably to book whatever the second fastest car in the company’s motor pool was. Not that Rarity particularly cared - second best was not the best, and she definitely needed the best in everything for this mission. “Five minutes ago? Gilda was still in the meeting!”
“Aside from her brief excursion, yes,” Twilight said and pointed at the windows with one hand while still checking things on her phone with the other.
“Yes, that was glorious,” Rarity mused, then blinked. “THAT’S IT!” she snapped and jumped back to her hooves when she realized what must have happened. “She must’ve had a hunch that Miss Lestia was going to send us to Ponyville! So she called Trixie after beating up that one guy and told her to make the reservation!” She ignored Twilight’s increasingly confused look. “She’s cunning; I’ll give her that. Anyway.” She held up the folder. “Memorize this until tomorrow. You will brief me on the road.”
She raised an eyebrow when Twilight didn’t immediately move. “...did I understand correctly that this trip could take one or two weeks, Miss Belle?”
Rarity blinked. “...yes.” Is she questioning me? Is my assistant literally questioning my orders? Now? Today? On the day before a trip that will decide my fate at this company? “Is that a problem, darling?” She mentally kicked herself for that - her verbal tic worked well to nag Gilda, but it also tended to come through whenever she was particularly stressed, despite her having spent years of trying to get rid of it.
“Well,” Twilight said, being uncharacteristically oblivious of Rarity’s slip of the tongue, “it’s just a week until Hearth’s Warming, and-”
“You want to request time off?”
“Well, actually, it’s a public holiday, so-”
“YOU want to LEAVE me and make me go ALONE on this MISSION?” Her initial adrenaline levels had been depleted, but her body seemed to be happy to produce more. “Don’t you have ANY idea how IMPORTANT this is?”
“No.”
“And you want to just... just... go on a nice and cozy VACATION? Is THAT how-...” She blinked. “No?” She blinked again. “No, of course not... because I just held up a folder and ranted about a car, right?”
“Why don’t you sit down for a moment, Miss Belle?” Twilight motioned at Rarity’s fancy office seat. “I’ll make you a nice cup of chamomile tea. Not the dust they sell in tea bags, no worries. Proper, loose tea. And then you’ll tell me what happened.”
She’s right. The one actually urgent task had been organizing a ride, and Gilda outsmarted me there. “Yeah, I’ll do that.” There was absolutely no reason to go on an insane rant or to try to guilt-trip her about not working during a time when nopony should be working. She slumped onto her chair, and Twilight neatly spun around to prepare the tea. As polite as always. As professional as always. As reliable as always. As hyper-competent as always. “Twilight?”
“Yes, Miss Belle?” Twilight asked and promptly turned back to face her.
Rarity had no doubt about her own talents, skills, and general capabilities. She knew that she could have worked her way to her current position without Twilight, but she also knew that it would have taken her much longer to do so. And she knew one other thing: I can’t do this without Twilight. This is the most important moment of my career, and I need the best pony by my side to stand a chance here. “I shouldn’t have yelled at you. I... I’m sorry.”
Twilight blinked at that. “That important, huh?” she asked after a second and smiled. Before Rarity could acknowledge that she only used words like “please” or “sorry” whenever she needed a favor, Twilight had already gone into her own office, the folder slowly floating behind her on a cloud of magic.
Rarity leaned back in her chair and let out a long sigh. It’s okay. Twilight’s on the case. We can sort out whatever demands she puts forth. Most of the time, it’s just something absurd, borderline illegal, and unenforceable, anyway. I mean, even if I ever found the time to settle down and marry somepony, I’m reasonably certain she wouldn’t actually insist on naming my first daughter after her... right?
“Hey,” Twilight’s voice suddenly came from the other room, but it was clear that she wasn’t talking to Rarity.
I didn’t hear anypony come in. Phone call? She leaned ever so slightly closer towards the door.
“Yes.” A pause. “I anticipated as much.” Another pause. “Mh. Yes, good. Just according to keikaku.” She chuckled - one of the few genuine and open laughs Rarity had ever heard from her. “Look, you introduced me to the series; you have to live with the consequences.” Another pause. “Right, gotta go. Water’s ready. Seeya.”
Rarity watched silently as Twilight came back in with two mugs and a teapot, the folder tucked in neatly under one arm. “Ponyville, fascinating,” she commented even as she neatly placed the teapot and the mugs. She flipped open the folder and let herself fall backward, her chair racing all the way from her office to catch her, guided by a burst of magic. “I doubt that name even appears on most maps,” she commented as if she hadn’t just performed an advanced act of magical speed and precision without even looking. “Please let the tea steep, Miss Belle,” she muttered when Rarity reached for the pot. “While we wait, why don’t you tell me why we’re leaving town just before a public holiday?”
It took Rarity about five minutes to fill Twilight in: thirty seconds to say, “I need to buy this village in the middle of nowhere, or I’m going to become Gilda’s chew toy,” and the rest of the time to rant like a lunatic about what had possessed Miss Lestia to reward years of hard work with an all-or-nothing contest. During that entire time, Twilight had been silent. She had merely flipped through the pages of the folder and nodded every now and then. “So you see why I need you on this trip, right? Right?”
“Of course, Miss Belle,” Twilight replied and finally looked up from the folder. “I’ll handle transportation and contract prep work. Why don’t you drink your tea and then call it a day? Pack your bags, make sure you have a variety of clothes so you can choose the best suit or dress based on the situation, things like that. There are no appointments left in your daily schedule, there is little left to do here for you before the trip, and I can brief you on all of this tomorrow en route.”
“...you’re sending me home?” Rarity made a show of checking her watch. “It’s not even two in the afternoon! I can’t just go home at that time of day!”
Twilight gave her a brief look, and Rarity could see that she knew. Knew of her apartment, filled with things that looked good and very apartment-y, but ultimately had no soul. Knew that Rarity had picked her interior design on the day she had moved in from a catalog without even giving her choices a second thought. Knew that there was nopony waiting for her when she came home after yet another long day at the office. Knew that, if she went home now, Rarity would be wholly and utterly-
“Of course, Miss Belle,” Twilight’s voice cut through Rarity’s negative thoughts. “I wasn’t thinking of the implications about for image. I’m sorry.” She smiled politely.
“It’s fine; no need to apologize.” Rarity smiled back, but then her smile faltered. What exactly am I going to do here for the next four to six hours, then? Fret about the upcoming trip until I drive myself straight to a nervous breakdown? Twilight is right - it’s no use to start new projects today, and I wouldn’t be able to focus, anyway. I should go home, pack my bags, then take something that lets me sleep peacefully for twelve hours or so. “On second thought... why should I worry about my image? In two weeks, I’ll be overseeing the construction of my own company location!” She forced a grin. “Let them watch as I leave early! Let them gossip! I’ll show them soon enough! Right?”
“They will indeed rue the day they talked about you behind your back, Miss Belle.” Twilight got up and bowed slightly. “Few can stand in your way as long as you believe in yourself.”
Rarity felt herself nodding at that. “Yes! Exactly! What I need is this... this... attitude thing you keep mentioning...” She snapped her fingers impatiently.
“Posi-”
“Positive mental attitude! Yes, thank you!” She slapped her table and jumped to her hooves. “I need to remind myself that I clawed my way up to the top and that I can claw my way up even further!”
“Exac-”
“Confidence! That is what it’s all about! It’s about taking what you want and manifesting it into reality!”
Twilight backed off a little bit but still nodded. “For the record, the person who said that was talking about meme strategies. And then he fell down a waterfall. Twice, if my memo-”
“Yes, yes, yes.” Rarity knew that her assistant was always slightly on edge whenever ponies started to gesture and shout, but she didn’t pay her any mind - she was on a roll! “Actually, why don’t we turn this into a friendly bet, Twilight?”
Twilight’s smile locked up at a weird angle. “A... bet, Miss Belle?”
“A bet, Twilight.” Rarity gave her a grin.
“You know I don’t really like our bets.”
“Because you lose most of them.”
“Because I keep being a good sport about your abuse of loopholes.”
“Does it anger you that I repeatedly best you in intellectual challenges?” Rarity teased her, knowing from experience how far she could push.
For a fraction of a second, she could see genuine, raw anger in Twilight’s eyes. She knew that her assistant was barely holding back a barbed remark, possibly involving her three PhDs, fluency in five languages, or her officially certified IQ that was higher than the GDP of Latmareia. “What kind of bet?” she finally asked, her voice barely more than a threatening whisper.
“I bet that we will be home for Hearth’s Warming Eve, happy as we can be.”
“I-...” Twilight blinked at that, her anger dissipating as quickly as it had appeared. “...that’s ambitious,” she finally observed. “What are the stakes?”
“If I win, you owe me one bit.”
“And what do I get if you lose?”
“There is no way Gilda will need more than a week to pressure the locals into signing over their land.” Rarity took a deep breath. “So if we’re not home by then, it most likely means that I will be leashed to the desk of the new Ponyville location’s manager. In that case, you can literally pick whatever you like - it won’t matter anymore.” She shrugged even as she was trying not to let the mental image of Gilda’s victory get to her. “My apartment’s pretty nice, so I suppose you can have that. Or whatever else suits you.”
Twilight frowned briefly but then held out her hand. “In that case, I look forward to owing you that one bit, Miss Belle.”
“That’s the spirit, Twilight.” Rarity smiled and shook her assistant’s hand. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”