Sunset's Isekai

by Wanderer D

How Cherries Blossom (The Maretian — Fanfic)

Repotting a plant, when done properly, stank.

Though Cherry wasn’t a farm pony, she'd grown up in a farming community, from a farming family, doing odd jobs for farmers. She knew better than to just yank a root-bound plant, dirt and all, out of one pot, stuff it into a larger pot, and dump in more dirt until the pot was full. You needed to get the roots free of the old soil and spread out so they could expand into the new soil. You needed moist, rich, fertile, composted soil to encourage the new root growth. All of that meant putting a lot of water on what had once been, at least in part, roadapples, and getting cannon-deep into it in the process.

Cherry hated it, but she liked it a lot better than being Cherry Berry, Space Hero.

She'd spent the past two months being Space Hero. She'd assumed it would go like her other brushes with being Space Hero, as the first pony to set hoof on the asteroid Minmus, and then as the pilot who landed CSP Dreamer on the moon. There had been excitement and interest a couple weeks before the launches, and for a month afterwards (including the week or two of quarantine), and then ponies found something else to be interested in. That was how ponies were: the new, flashy thing today was the way things had always been tomorrow.

Except... now, since Mars, not.

She'd thought that, once Mark Watney had returned to his home world and the crew of Amicitas- no, of the Phoenix- once they had gone their separate ways, that all the attention and interruptions would die down. 

She’d been wrong. 

Dozens of ponies had come to ask her to endorse this or that crackpot scheme or questionable product- and only one-quarter of them had been Flim and/or Flam in a wig or beard. She’d had absurd job offers from businesses she didn’t understand who just wanted a Space Hero on the corporate board. And she couldn't stick her head out the door at Horseton Space Center, Appleoosa, or Dodge Junction without being swarmed by autograph hounds. Ponyville, which she thought had been immune to that sort of thing, seemed packed with ponies armed with cheap cameras and zero concept of personal space. Even in the air Cherry couldn't get away. Pegasi flew escort every time she took her balloon up, and one by one they'd swoop over to the basket and ask for a photo and an autograph before returning to position and allowing the next distraction to swoop in. 

And then came the letters- mailbags, plural, full of letters, coming from all over the world. She'd got Chrysalis to detail half a dozen changelings to handle them, but that still left her spending two hours every day autographing prints of a photo taken just prior to the final flight of Amicitas. She went to bed every night with a crick in her neck because of that.

Now she understood why the space agency Mark Watney flew for had an office totally dedicated to handling astronaut mail. It was the only way any astronaut would have time to do anything other than answer it.

And then there had been the kidnapping. That had almost been cute. The cultists' sackcloth robes had still had the flour company's name on them. There had been a five minute musical number about the proper redistribution of horns and wings, which had been rather peppy up until the moment Cherry had realized they intended her to be the recipient of both. Fortunately Chrysalis (of all ponies!) had arrived just in time to rescue Cherry from unwanted princesshood... and then Twilight Sparkle and her friends arrived just in time to rescue the cultists.

Anyway, Cherry was sick of it all. She wanted time to herself to relax, to rest, to figure out what she was going to do with her life now that she wasn’t in constant peril of losing it to the whims of a red planet. She wanted to stop being Commander Cherry Berry, Space Hero, and go back to being just Cherry Berry, aviatrix and odd-jobs pony.

Buck, she just wanted a couple of hours by herself!

That was why she was here, in a greenhouse slapped together in the middle of HSC's research and development complex, repotting Groot. Permanently planting the little Martian cherry tree anywhere souvenir-hungry, celebrity-obsessed ponies could find him was an obviously bad idea. To keep him safe, he had to stay in a pot, under guard, as far away from the tourists as possible.

Repotting Groot bought her a bit of time alone. Even so, she still hated it. Leaving aside the unpleasant feeling of potting soil in the fur, fooling around with plants was everything Cherry Berry had been flying to get away from. Earth ponies grew things: that was the pigeon-hole she'd tried to escape ever since the day she'd decided it wasn't fair that birds could get to the cherries on top of the tree and she couldn't. And before Mars, she'd never been any real good at growing plants, anyway.

Before Mars. Yeah. And that was the reason why Cherry wanted more than a stolen half-hour with Groot.

As much as Cherry had hated working the farm in the crystal cave... there had been something about it that just felt right, too. Making plants grow out of a mixture of compost and sterile Martian soil made her feel like she'd contributed to keeping them all alive, using the only skills she had besides piloting things. It was the only time she didn’t feel like a fraud.

And to be honest, working on the cherry saplings in particular had probably saved her sanity. For over three hundred sols those trees had been her hope for the future. For three months after that it had been Groot in his little improvised square plastic pot. On Mars, caring for those trees had felt like her life's calling, the thing she was supposed to be.

Before Mars, that thing had been eating cherries, not growing them. (And also flying, but that came second.)

Now, it was... which? What? She didn't know, and she wanted peace and quiet to work it out, and-

"Hey, bossmare?"

Cherry groaned. It hadn't even been half an hour. "How did you get in here, Dragonfly?" she asked.

"Told the guards my queen wanted to see you," Dragonfly said, letting the greenhouse door shut behind her and walking in uninvited.

"Does she?"

"Probably," Dragonfly said. "I didn't ask her."

Cherry took a deep breath. She knew Dragonfly could tell, to the exact degree, how she was feeling at this very moment, and that her emotions were shouting their fury into what passed for changeling ears... or nostrils... whatever. But that didn't mean she had to add to that. "What do you want?" she asked, not quite in the perfect calm tones she'd wanted to use, but at least not shrieking either.

"Well, it's about... huh." Dragonfly looked over Cherry's shoulder. "Since when did they put a wooden door in here?"

"What?" Cherry had supervised the design of the greenhouse herself. There were two doors, one at each end, both metal with very strong locks. Groot should have been the only wooden thing in the room. She spun on her hooves in the direction Dragonfly was facing, and there she saw it.

It was a wooden door, with a little sign that the reflections from the glass roof made hard to read and a stylized blazing-sun cutie mark carved into it. And it was in a wall that should have been solid from corner to corner.

She'd never seen one herself before, but she'd heard stories. Magic appearing and disappearing doors, leading to magic shops full of nothing but trouble- that's how Granny Dewberry had described them. They usually appeared in Canterlot, but they'd popped up in Ponyville for about as long as there had been walls in Ponyville for them to appear in. (They were a large part of the reason why insurance policies in Ponyville had contained broad exceptions for Acts of Magic long before Twilight Sparkle moved to town.)

And once one appeared to you, you were going to go in. It had something or other to do with destiny, or Everfree magic, or maybe Discord making mischief, or- what was that phrase from the books Mark Watney read- oh, yes, narrative causality, that was it, or close enough.

Cherry sighed. Well, it would keep the crowds away for another five minutes- maybe fifteen if she browsed really slowly.

"Dragonfly?"

"Yeah, Cherry?" The changeling had picked up on Cherry's change of mood and got serious along with her.

"If you have ever shoplifted in your life," Cherry said, "and I am NOT asking if you have or not, but if you have, do NOT do it where we're going." For lack of any more descriptive way of expressing the thought, she finished with, "It would be bad."

"Where we're going?" Dragonfly cocked her head in confusion. "Where are we going?"

"Through this," Cherry said, walking over to the door. It swung open with the slightest touch.

Sunset Shimmer sighed, overlooking the almost shiny perfection all of her efforts to clean the bar had earned her. She had dusted. She had polished, she had mopped and waxed, she had carefully scrubbed the glass cover of every single picture frame on the wall. All of them.

She had watered the plants in the corner, fed Bernard while she cleaned his terrarium, rearranged all of the bottles in the visible spectrum behind the bar, and even considered cleaning and reorganizing her fridge before remembering that it was actually impossible. 

And sure, the bar could be magically cleaned, but with an unending out-of-time lifespan, it kind of seemed too lazy to let the ethereal and mystical forces of the universe do it for her, whether she did the casting or not.

Sometimes she needed to go adventuring, sometimes she just wanted to attend to her customers, or cuddle with Freya, or talk interdimensional politics with Rarity, and it was all good… but sometimes, she just wanted something absolutely, inconsequentially normal. 

Put her mind at ease with basic labor that sometimes ended up being more involved than anticipated, but produced amazing results and left anycreature with a sense of accomplishment, and a very clear example of their success… such a shiny, squeaky-clean bar, ready for any customer that walked in to be wowed by its owner's cleanliness.

As Remi said, 'cleanliness was close to godliness'', even if practical experience with gods of all sorts had actually proven that to be complete BS. But she wasn't going to hold that against the French rat. It wasn't the point anyway.

As if summoned just in time, she heard the doorbell chime, and the sound of not one, but two voices drifted down to her. It was always hard to guess who or what was walking into her bar, but she had grown used to listening for clues. The feminine voices sounded familiar with their accent. Granted, that could mean anything, but also reduced options down to very likely to be pony-related.

She checked herself to confirm she hadn't been changed into some other species by the bar, so most likely creatures that had met humans already, or wouldn't freak out by seeing her in a bad way. It was one of those suggestions for the bar's setup that she had to thank Rarity for. Certain individuals would not have reacted well to her being another species.

However, past that, and going back to her incoming customers, they were… making squelching noises as they walked. Half-squelch, half-sticky resistance when the next step was taken. 

Sunset's smile faded a little as she realized that all the work she had just done for the past six hours was being diminished by the first customer in. She could almost feel the bar both, shudder and laugh at what was happening. If it was some sort of life-lesson, it was the annoying kind.

"Well, at least this doesn't look like a shop."

"Why would it look like a shop, bossmare?" 

"I don't—look, just remember what I said and don't just grab anything okay?"

The squelching approach finally stopped when a changeling and an earth pony walked into the bar.

Well, they were guests.

"Welcome to Sunset's Isekai," she spoke up, smiling at the pair, who had just turned to look at her and were now staring. "My little bar in the omniverse. The name's Sunset Shimmer, and I'll be happy to serve you some drinks today."

She cleared her throat. "If you don't mind, please go ahead to the washroom to wash your hooves. It's at the end of the room to the left, first door on the right.”

“Hey,” the changeling said, holding up a pair of reasonably clean forehooves, “I’m not the one who was potting plants just now. That’s all on the bossmare here.”

The earth pony- pink with blonde hair and eyes that were either magenta or gray depending on how the light hit them- shot a glare at the changeling. “Would a little soap and water hurt you that much?” she asked, stern words undermined by a naturally squeaky voice.

“Of course it would,” the changeling said. “One touch and I’d just melt away. Don’t you know we changelings are made of sugar? That’s why we’re so sweet and loveable!” She smiled, in the process baring sharp teeth behind fangs that, a moment before, had seemed more decoration than menace.

The pony’s only response to that was a snort. Then, after a glance at Sunset and a quiet, “I beg your pardon,” she strode off to the indicated door, squelching with fifty percent of her hoofsteps until the bathroom door closed behind her.

The changeling, unruffled, bounced up onto a stool and leaned onto the bar, giving Sunset a look up and down. “So, you’re a human,” she said. 

Sunset shrugged. “Technically,” she said.

“Huh. I thought humans were pink or brown or something in between,” the changeling said. “I never heard of an orange one before.”

"Well," Sunset said, glancing with a sigh at the mud on the floor, "the omniverse is a big place, and there are places where humans are just as technicolor as ponies. Excuse me." She leaned over the bar waving her hand in a spell.

Both watched as the mud slowly faded away, leaving a very clean floor, but for Sunset it still felt like the original mopping had done a better job, even if most people wouldn't have even noticed.

"I also thought you couldn't do magic, but I imagine that can also be blamed on the omniverse?"

"Hey, when you have the perfect answer to avoid deep introspective questions about the nature of what makes a being real, why not use it?" Sunset replied, passing the changeling a wet towel. "However I do know you're not actually made of sugar, so please wipe your hooves with this."

A faint sense of amusement from the changeling was all she got in addition to a gentle shrug, and soon the changeling's hooves were clean enough. Sunset nodded, pulling a menu for the changeling, and another for the pony.

"I've got some cool changeling-friendly drinks here, emotion-charged with anything from passionate love to motherly love for the occasional visitor, and endorsed by a few queens I've had over, so feel free to take a look and choose something you'd like. Do you know what your friend would like?"

"Oh, definitely something with a lot of cherries," the changeling responded, almost completely hiding her curiosity while perusing the current menu.

"Hm, I think I got something for her," Sunset replied, getting to work. She fished some fresh cherries and started cutting them into smaller pieces, pitting them and throwing them into a cut--glass lowball, alongside some lemon wedges. She proceeded to muddle them for a bit before adding a splash of maple syrup, then floating over a bottle of cherry bourbon, which she generously poured in, before adding crushed ice, mixing it with the spoon, and decorating it with  one full cherry on top, just as the bathroom door opened.

"I'm sorry about the mess," the earth pony said, emerging from the back. "If you have a mop or something, I can clean…um, never mind then." She glanced around the room, a slight frown on her face before noticing the drink on the bar. "Is that…?"

"One of my most cherry-intense cocktails on the menu," Sunset said, sliding over next to the changeling. "It's called a Cherry Bomb."

"Seems legit, bossmare," the changeling called out. "For my part, can I have a Quiet Night?"

"Absolutely, let me get the mother's attentive love from its container. It's fresh too! Nope just delivered it the other day. Also, I'm sorry I didn't catch either of your names yet."

“I’m Dragonfly,” the changeling said. “Cute and grumpy here is Cherry Berry.”

“Nice to meet you,” Sunset said. “I’m Sunset Shimmer.”

The earth pony, who had just eased herself up onto the barstool next to Dragonfly, looked up sharply. “That’s a pony name,” she said simply.

“Sure is.”

“But you’re a human.”

“Well, at the moment, yeah.”

“I’ll bet.” Cherry looked at the drink, obviously tempted, but more obviously wary. “This drink,” she asked carefully, “this isn’t going to cost me my soul, or my magic, or all the gold in Equestria, or anything like that?”

It was Sunset’s turn to snort, more with amusement than scorn. “The first drink is always free,” she said. “Subsequent drinks are normally priced in non-diabolic currencies.”

“Uh huh.” Cherry’s expression shifted slightly away from suspicious and towards tempted. "This isn't some magical drink that will put some permanent curse or something on me, is it?"

Now this was getting to be a bit much. "Um... noooo... did you want something like that?" Sunset asked. "I can add—"

"NO!"

"Okay, then,” Sunset said, smiling and dusting her hands ostentatiously. “That stuff causes more trouble than it's worth anyway. You would not believe the lawsuits."

“So,” Cherry said, “no tricks.”

“No tricks.”

“No traps.”

“Nope.”

“Just a drink.”

“Well,” Sunset said, “I would like to think nothing I serve is just a drink. Magical bar between universes, you know. Let’s say, a very good drink, and nothing else.”

“Cherry, really,” Dragonfly said, “what’s the point of this? If you’re really that suspicious, we shouldn’t even be in here.”

“Granny Dewberry told me the ponies who run shops like this never lie,” Cherry said. “It’s beneath their dignity. But that doesn’t mean you can’t get into trouble.” She glanced at Dragonfly and asked, “Did any of that smell like a lie to you?”

Dragonfly sighed. “She’s a very patient woman,” she said. “And right now you’re using up a ton of that patience, bossmare. So how about you drink up and stop insulting the weird human who lives behind a door that shouldn’t be there, okay?”

Cherry blushed a little, bowing her head and throwing her ears back. “Sorry,” she muttered vaguely in a direction midway between Sunset and the countertop. The cherry on top went first, chewed slowly and judiciously, the pit and stem carefully deposited in a hoof and set on the counter. Next came a sip from the straw. Her eyes widened, and she slurped enthusiastically at the drink, sucking down all she could.

“Careful!” Sunset reached over and pinched the straw shut in her fingers. “That’s meant for slow sipping! You can get wasted pretty quick if you’re not careful.”

That got Cherry’s attention. “Wasted,” she thought aloud, letting go of the straw. “You know, I haven’t let myself get drunk since... since...” Her face clouded up as more implications set in. “Since never, because I always had work or flying.” She shook her head. “Faust, that’s all I need,” she said. “And they call Cousin Punchie the family drunk.”

“Maybe you’re due,” Dragonfly suggested. “A year and a half on Mars would drive anyone to drink.”

Cherry shook her head and carefully pushed the glass away with one hoof. “That really was a very good drink,” she said carefully. “But maybe I should stick to non-alcoholic.” Pause. “But those cherries can keep coming. They’re excellent.”

"Not a problem," Sunset said, producing a small bowl full of cherries from somewhere behind the bar. She also passed Dragonfly the drink she had finished making for her, a tall, thin glass that glowed lightly with iridescent pink light. "The glowing is really just for show, but the contained love is legit. As for you, Cherry… I'll make you another of those, but mocktail version. No alcohol in it."

As she got to work on the new drink, she glanced at the pair. "So Mars huh? Does your Equestria share the same space as Earth, or is there a story there? Doesn't sound like it was too pleasant."

Cherry shrugged. “Kind of?” she asked. “I don’t understand all the details. You’d have to ask Twilight Sparkle or Starlight Glimmer about that. But it all started when I was picked to fly the third test flight of a new magic spaceship engine...” 

From there the bare bones of the story came out: a system malfunction that threw the ship and its five crewmembers out of their universe and into another one with little or no magic to speak of, on a collision course with an uninhabitable planet, that ended with a miraculous crash-landing that deposited them, luckily for all concerned, about six miles away from the only viable habitation on the planet, which was itself occupied by a lone alien- a lone human- also marooned on the planet due to a bizarre series of circumstances.

“We were there for a year and a half,” Cherry said. “A year and a half of survival and terror before we finally got rescued. That was... huh... about two months ago, or a little more than that.”

Through the story, Sunset had slowly become more grim, until all she could really do was pass Cherry the mocktail. "Still on the house," she muttered before taking a slow, deep breath. "That sounds like the kind of experience that really few creatures would have the fortitude to survive. You both are made of sterner stuff than the average pony or changeling, that's for sure."

Dragonfly cringed at this remark. “Um, yeah,” she muttered, “let’s go with that.”

“Let’s not,” Cherry said firmly. “All I did was not die. Every pony does that every day.”

“Not everybody does it on Mars, bossmare.”

Cherry’s hoof slammed onto the bar. “Have I mentioned recently,” she said quietly, “how very much I do not want to be called bossmare? How I never wanted to be boss of anypony? How much I just wanted to be able to fly faster and farther, and nothing else? How much I did not want to be the one responsible for keeping five other people alive when I had no idea how to do it? No magic, no engineering, no science? Nothing but these?” She held up her forehooves.

“You did it anyway,” Dragonfly said gently.

“Did anypony ask me if I wanted to??”

"Maybe, you were just the one they needed," Sunset said gently, not quite reaching over to pat Cherry on the shoulder, but clearly wanting to be supportive. "It wasn't just engineering or magic that they needed, but someone with willpower. I've never met any ace pilot that didn't have the focus or mental strength to push themselves farther than anyone else."

“Sure, I’ve got that,” Cherry said bitterly. “I’ve got that when I’m behind the flight stick. But only when I’m behind the flight stick. All the rest of the time I’m just a panicky pony from Ponyville. I could give chickens lessons about running around in circles.”

“Cherry,” Dragonfly said quietly, “we were there how long? And you never once cracked. Tried to quit, yeah, but who was going to replace you? Spitfire would have rubbed everyone raw in a week. So who’s left? Mark? Fireball? Starlight?” She shook her head and added, “Me? That would have been a disaster. I did crack, remember?”

“Not the same thing,” Cherry muttered. “You were sick.”

“Weren’t we all?”

"In an odd way it seems that you were still piloting a ship," Sunset said, "just made out of your crew rather than instruments. Who else would keep them together and working through any problems than the pilot herself?" She replaced the now empty bowl with more cherries. "I know my example is silly, but Dragonfly is right… as much as it was shoved into you, the fact that you stepped up to it and pulled them through speaks for itself. Hell, I think sometimes the best leaders for this kind of situation end up being the ones that never asked for it."

She leaned back, giving Cherry a considering look. "But that's in the past, I suppose. You've probably heard all of this from others… so what do you want to do now?"

Cherry sighed, slumping over the bar. “I really don’t know,” she said quietly. “And apparently I’m not allowed to figure it out,” she added, her tone growing louder and angrier with every word, “because I can’t get fifteen minutes to myself to think about it without somepony finding me to ooh and aah at the Great Hero Cherry Berry!” By the end she was sitting up again, forehooves over her head in exasperation.

A bit of green fire surrounded a cherry, and it popped into Cherry’s mouth the instant she stopped shouting. 

"You know, you can spend several hours here and no time will have passed back home," Sunset said. "There's no rush here, things like these take a lot of time. I've met some people that took years to figure themselves out, and others that just needed a break." She gave Cherry a look. "No wonder my bar dropped by, you really needed some 'you' time, Cherry."

This time the pit didn’t come out delicately in a hoof; it spat out onto the floor. “No time passed?” Cherry asked, looking anything but thrilled. “You mean, outside of time and space? Between worlds?” She leaned her hooves on the bar. “Magical door that can appear anywhere, any time, any place?”

A perforated hoof began pulling on Cherry’s shoulder. “Cherry,” Dragonfly said, “maybe you should-”

“Where were you,” Cherry asked, her voice losing its squeak and going husky, “where were you when we were on our two hundredth day of nothing but alfalfa, potatoes and water? Where were you on all those nights when I wanted to cry myself to sleep because I thought we were all going to die there, but I couldn’t, because fear and panic spread and I was the commander and someone might hear me? Where- were- you- when...” She slumped forward, covering her head with her forelegs, and began quietly sobbing.

Dragonfly patted Cherry on the back. “Um,” she said apologetically to Sunset, “this was probably overdue. But... well, I’ve known her for over five years now. I’ve seen her happy, I’ve seen her serious, I’ve seen her angry enough to curse in twelve languages. But I’ve never seen this except for the day we got home.”

Sunset nodded, smiling a little at Dragonfly. "She's very lucky to have you… and Cherry, for what it's worth, I'm sorry. This place can do all of that, but neither the bar nor myself are omniscient or able to help everyone in the multiverse… it's sometimes just not possible, and for what little it might be worth in some cases, all I can do is be there for others after things have happened." She walked around the bar to sit at Cherry's other side. "I'm sorry I wasn't there then to provide some relief to a horrible situation, but I'm here now, and in the future if you need me."

“Listen to her,” Dragonfly added. “And listen to me: you are here now, too. We won. Mars didn’t get us. It’s all over now.” She patted her commander’s back and repeated softly, “It’s all over now.”

Sniffles emerged from under the forehooves. Cherry slowly raised herself up off the bar. “Yeah,” she said shakily. “Yeah. It’s over now. Yeah.” After a moment, she looked at Sunset with a face that had none of the rage or sadness in it from before. “I’m sorry,” she said.

"No need," Sunset insisted, "this is why I opened my bar in the first place. It started with a breakup and a friend that needed time to herself and someone to talk to, that's what I've been doing this for for ages now, and why I'll keep doing it." 

“Well, you’re earning your pay today, I guess,” Cherry said, sitting back on the barstool and sighing. “How much is it? Three bits an hour and all the abuse you can eat? I really am sorry about that, by the way.”

“How about we not go there anymore?” Dragonfly said. “Like my queen says about old evidence: let’s look forward, not back.”

"That is a very Queen Chrysalis thing to say," Sunset nodded, "and I'd have to agree with that statement in this case, even if does imply things I'd rather not think about." She hummed. "Although I suppose that's the whole point. How about a cherry pie? I can get one delivered." 

“Hey, the day the bossmare here- oops, I mean the steely-eyed missile mare-”

“Don’t call me that either.”

“- the day Cherry here says no to anything with cherries in,” Dragonfly pressed forward with barely a hesitation, “is the day they bury her, and I think it’s in her will that they bury her in a cherry basket.”

“That’s not true at all!” Cherry said. “I mean... I get full sometimes... that’s what doggie bags are for.” Her forehooves tapped together in a multiversal gesture of self-consciousness.

"Heh, then I'll order that pie for us to share, don't worry… there'll be plenty." She stood up to head over to the register, where she had the contact numbers for other places, when an entry on her calendar caught her attention. "By the by, I do host a pilot's night every other… uh… well, probably every other month for people in actual timelines, would you be interested in coming?"

“Huh... other pilots?” Cherry thought about this a moment. “And no time passes outside while we’re in here?”

“Not if you don’t want it to,” Sunset said. “That’s the default, anyway.”

Cherry let out a breath of relief. “Good,” she said. “Otherwise I don’t see how I could not invite Chrysalis along.”

“Your Chrysalis is a pilot, too?”

“She thinks she is.”

“She really is,” Dragonfly put in. “Lots of solo flying in rockets, anyway. But...” She looked around the bar and added, “Maybe we shouldn’t put ideas into her head. Not when things are so sweet right now.”

"Well, I was going to say she might be interested in Changeling Queen night, but um, yeah, sounds like she needs to center herself a bit more in your universe." Sunset grinned. "I'll still be around whenever that happens."

“She’s way too centered as it is,” Cherry said. “Self-centered. That’s the problem.” She shrugged and smiled for the first time since she’d come in the door. “Sure, I’d love to come.”

Sunset glanced at Dragonfly, "you're also welcome here when you feel like it," she said. "What did you think of the drink?"

“Pretty good,” Dragonfly admitted. “Better than my queen’s leftovers. Not as good as a Mark Watney hug, though.”

“Can you stop teasing the man once he’s gone?” Cherry smirked.

“Hey, I wasn’t teasing,” Dragonfly said. “I didn’t mention Daisy Duke or Linda Carter even once.”

Cherry sighed. “How about that pie?” she asked.

“So,” Dragonfly asked as the magic door closed behind them, leaving them back in the greenhouse-lab, “feeling better now?”

Cherry considered this for a long moment. “Well, it was a very good pie-”

“Bossmare, please.”

“I don’t know,” Cherry said in exasperation. “Maybe?” She paused, looking down at her own hooves for a moment. “I don’t feel as... wrung out, I guess. It was nice to be alone... almost alone,” she corrected herself, shooting Dragonfly a glance.

“Not sorry,” Dragonfly said briskly. “You needed me.”

“Yeah.” Pause. “Why did you come in here in the first place, anyway?”

“Because I figured you needed me,” Dragonfly said. “You said it yourself. You couldn’t get any alone time. And that meant I couldn’t get time alone with you, either.” She poked the pink pony pilot with a hoof. “And I knew exactly how you’ve been feeling for weeks now. Remember, I’ve been at a lot of those poke-the-hero-with-a-stick events since we got home, right next to you. Did you think I wouldn’t know?”

“I thought you wouldn’t say anything,” Cherry said. “Like Chrysalis hasn’t said anything.”

“My queen is... well... she didn’t spend five hundred plus sols on Mars,” Dragonfly said. “I don’t know what she thinks, but I do know she’d be no good for this. I’ve learned how, a bit, and she hasn’t.” Pause. “By the way, please don’t tell her about any of this, even if you tell her about the bar.”

“We’ll see.” Cherry sighed. “But the thing is, maybe I feel better, but I’m back where I started.” She gestured at Groot, who was listing a little to the side in his new half-filled pot. “Do I go back to farming? Do I want to keep flying? Is all this poking and prodding the price of me still flying? Would I even be allowed to start a farm in peace? I haven’t got one step to figuring any of that out yet.”

“I think you have.” Dragonfly reached up and tapped Cherry on the forehead. “Your head is clearer. I can tell. I think that’s a big step forward.”

“Maybe. I don’t know.” Cherry pushed the divot-riddled hoof away from her face. “But you know what would be another-”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m going,” Dragonfly said. “By the way, I can only buy you another half an hour, tops. There’s the meeting on picking new astromare candidates, remember?”

Cherry sighed. “Yeah, sure,” she said. “I’ll be there in time.”

“No hurry.” Dragonfly said. She paused next to the pot, gently stroking the trunk of the little cherry sapling. “Take your time with Groot. We Mars survivors gotta watch out for each other.”

Cherry nodded firmly at that. “We sure do.”

Sunset held the frame in her hands as she considered the wall where all of the others were. The picture itself didn't manage to reflect the enormous strength of character of the mare scarfing down the cherry pie she had ordered delivered to the bar, or that of the changeling next to her, for that matter.

The two sold themselves short at every corner and only Dragonfly had caught on that Sunset wasn't buying it, but the changeling had simply shrugged when she had given her a look.

To be able to convince someone of their own self-worth was always an uphill battle, and not her job really. When it came to telling people that kind of thing, it did come across as platitudes, regardless of how true it was, and usually if a visit to her bar helped at all, it was mostly due to giving her visitors a place to feel free from pressure and judgment. 

Most of the visitors would return at later dates with ever-increasing confidence in themselves, and she hoped that Cherry hanging out with the pilot gang would help her realize just how essential that ability to steel-up was for a leader and pilot.

But Cherry really was more than just a pilot, or a leader, or a farmer of cherry trees even. She had taken over so much responsibility on Mars that would have broken lesser beings. She hadn't asked for it. She hadn't trained for it…. but she had stepped up, and taken the reins of the situation, steering her crew to not just surviving, but flourishing in circumstances that baffled the mind.

Really, there was only one place in that wall where the picture would fit. 

She had the wall expand a little to make room, then placed the picture even with the one from the Normandy crew.

Sometimes true heroes were so—not just because of their obvious achievements—but because they would shoulder what no one else could… and succeed.