//------------------------------// // Finding the Right Words // Story: A Christmas Shimmer // by applezombi //------------------------------// Moondancer had extracted herself from the conversation with one last eager promise to call.  While Sunset was certainly excited to get to know the strange young woman, and really did hope she’d call or come by, that wasn’t what she was here for. This next bit was going to be much more difficult. “So, Professor, I’m going to assume you have an office around here?” she began casually, ignoring the bottle of mace with the broken spray nozzle that the other Sunset kept fidgeting with, passing it back and forth between her hands.  A second of hesitation flashed over the professor’s face, but only for an instant.  Her jaw steeled, and she shot Sunset an angry gaze. “This way.” For a moment Sunset wondered if the other, angrier her had some other kind of weapon tucked away in the office.  Maybe she should be worried.   But no.  Overt violence had never been her thing.  With a flush of embarrassment she remembered the one, glaring exception; a squirming dog in her arms, a sledgehammer.  She shook her head to clear the memory before following the other Sunset into the chemistry lab. The office was just like Sunset had expected.  It was austere and a little anodyne; the walls were decorated with little more than Professor Shimmer’s Master’s certificate, her teaching license, her professional certifications, as well as a single landscape painting of Canterlot’s cityscape.  It was all very neutered, all designed to show off the bearer while not offending anybody.  A pure blank slate from which to begin manipulating and shaping those who stepped into the professor’s office. “Nice,” she snarked, and the professor scowled at her.  “Um.  This is gonna get awkward, but what do I call you?” “You can call me ‘ma’am,’” the professor shot back, and Sunset laughed.  “I suppose you can call me by my title, if it’s really that confusing to you.  Now.  Tell me who you are and what you’re doing here now.” “Ever read ‘A Christmas Carol’?” Sunset asked.  To be honest, her trip here had been a bit of a whirlwind.  A flying cervid-powered sleigh ride had been unexpected, to say the least, and left her little time to make some sort of plan.  But winging it had always been a strong point of hers. “Oh, god,” the professor sighed, slumping down into the faux leather chair behind the desk.  “So you’re going to tell me you’re some sort of Ghost of Christmas Cliché?” “Not quite,” Sunset giggled.  “But maybe a little.  I am here to help you, I think.” “Bullcrap,” the professor snarled.  “And you still didn’t tell me who you are.” “I’m you,” Sunset shrugged.  “From an alternate dimension.  Came over via a magic portal.  I’ve been living in Canterlot for the last six years, because of the connections I’ve made over here.” “Again, bullcrap.  Prove it.” “Makes sense you’d want evidence, Professor,” Sunset smiled.  “Okay, then.  I don’t know what’s gonna happen because we’re the same person, kinda, but I have a suspicion.” She slipped out the geode she wore on a chain from under her parka, showing it to the professor without taking it off her neck.  “This geode lets me do magic.  Me and a few of my friends, actually.  If I take your hand, I can see your memories, glimpses of your past.  That’s how, just a few minutes ago, I caught a glimpse of your letter to Santa about the unicorn.” The professor went stiff, her eyes blazing with fury. “How could… you couldn’t… how dare—” “Lemme ask you something, Professor,” Sunset cut her off before she could build too much steam.  “What was Moondancer gonna be?  A one-time resource to drain dry?  Or an ongoing minion?  Whose name would have been first on the research paper after she was done with her new spectrometer?” “You… you’re changing the—” “Be honest, Professor.  Would you have even spared her a second thought once you tossed her aside?” “Shut up!” the professor screamed.  “How dare you!  You don’t know anything about me!  You don’t know how hard I’ve worked, how I’ve struggled and suffered and…” “Please, professor.  We’re the same, you and I.  Only you haven’t had somebody to jolt you out of your cute little sociopathy yet.”  Sunset leaned over the desk, and the professor shrank back.  “But if you want me to know?  All you have to do is reach out.”  She offered her hand.  Professor Shimmer stared at it, her lips twisted in a grimace, before she slid her chair back, away from the offending hand. “I don’t know what your game is, but I’m getting tired of it.  How are you doing this?” “I told you.  I’m you, just from another world.  Another universe.” Sunset’s voice was plaintive.  “I did all of this.  The manipulation, the threats, the blackmail and bargaining and maneuvering.  I went through it all and came out the other side a better, happier, kinder Sunset.  And if I can, I wanna help you go through it, too, and maybe even spare you all the pain and hurt I had to suffer in the process.” “This is a joke.  And I think I’m done here.” The professor stood from her seat.  “You have two minutes to leave before I call the police.” “I’m a unicorn!” Sunset blurted, desperately.  She fought the urge to jump forward, to seize the professor’s hand.  Maybe there was more she wasn’t seeing.  Maybe they were different, and just a little bit more information would… But no.  She didn’t want the professor any more skittish than she already was. “What?” “I… I’m a unicorn.  This other dimension?  There’s no humans.  Only magical horses.  Unicorns and pegasi and—” “Have you been drinking?” Sunset blushed.  She’d had one.  One!  And then a ride in a sleigh with Santa Claus himself.   She probably wouldn’t believe her either. “I can prove everything I’m saying.”  She felt like the whole thing was slipping out of her hooves.  Er, hands.  Her mind was truly frazzled if she was slipping back into her old thinking patterns.  “I just need you to trust me for a little bit.  An hour.  Come with me to Canterlot High, and I’ll show you.” Mentioning the school must have done it, because Sunset saw a light of some indescribable fire behind the professor’s eyes.  They stared at each other as the seconds ticked by. “Fine.  But I’m driving.”