//------------------------------// // Have Wings, Will Travel // Story: A Hearth's Warming Buyout // by ChibiRenamon //------------------------------// The knock on her door was quiet but not quiet enough. “Mhrgh...?” Rarity groggily lifted her head, then lifted it even more until she finally managed to escape the gravitational pull of Equestria’s fluffiest pillow. “Wha...?” she asked when the knocking resumed. “One sec...” The mattress was almost as soft as the pillow, making it a chore to get out of the bed. And when she did, she realized just how comfortable and warm it had been, making her seriously consider crawling back under her blanket. Of course, it would be hard to go back to sleep, what with all the knocking at her door. “Fiiine,” she sighed and shambled across the bedroom. The librarian’s old bedroom was small but very cozy, the absolute antithesis of Rarity’s Canterlot apartment. Here, every piece of furniture quite likely told a story dating back at least three generations. The fluffy carpet in the center of the room had probably been woven by hand by a kind, elderly lady a hundred years ago. And the door was massive - maybe it had even come out of the enormous tree this library had literally been carved into. Massive, but not soundproof, obviously, Rarity added and smirked as she put a hand on the handle. “Yes, what is-” The door burst open with enough force to throw her backward, and she would have hit the floor if it hadn’t been for Gilda’s talons wrapping themselves around her neck. “WHA-” The rest of her scream was lost in a strained croak as Gilda’s grip tightened. “Cute heist, dweeb,” the griffon rasped, looking angrier than ever before. “But you always forget that murder beats clever.” Her talons dug deep into Rarity’s coat, and the last thing Rarity saw was Gilda’s cruel grin as- “BWAH!” Rarity sat up straight, her hands clutching her neck, searching for talons and finding none. “Ghaaaa... haaaaaa...” For a few seconds, she just focused on breathing. Deep, life-giving breaths as she tried to make sense of what had just happened. There was no griffon in her bedroom. The door was closed. She was in bed. Nightmare, her brain decided to state the obvious, as if it had to convince itself. “Goodness, what a way to-” There was a knock on her door. Rarity froze. Then, her eyes darted to the door. Only during the next knock did she realize that it wasn’t coming from the bedroom door. No, it was fainter, as if it was coming from the- “I’ll get it...” Twilight announced to nopony in particular. -front door. Rarity’s eyes went wide. “Oh no,” she whispered. “No, no, NO!” She tried to maneuver out of her bed - somehow, it was even fluffier in real life - and stormed to the door. She could feel a headache building up but decided to power through it. This is a life-or-death situation! That nightmare was a vision! Gilda is going to murder Twilight, then come after me! She somehow managed to navigate the stairs from the bedroom to the library’s main hall without tripping. Then she struck her best fighting pose, ready to defend herself against... the griffon... that was lying face-first in the entrance. “Miss Dawnstar!” Twilight exclaimed, unaware of how narrowly she had escaped certain death by choking. “Hang on, I’ll help you...” Rarity blinked, then slowly relaxed her shoddy pose - she hadn’t been able to decide between the Legendary Cat Clutch and the Shaman Airborne Drop, not that she knew either of them beyond their depictions in Kung Fu movies - and walked over to Twilight. “Is she... dead?” she asked, trying not to sound too hopeful. Twilight carefully levitated Gilda on a cloud-like magic field and quickly dragged her over to the couch. Rarity tried not to think too hard about the fact that this was likely the second time within twelve hours that she had to drag a lifeless body around. “Ooohhh,” Gilda groaned, coming around just in time to drag herself onto the couch. “Thanks,” she muttered groggily, then slowly opened her eyes all the way. It took a moment, but judging from how her eyes went wide while her pupils constricted, it was clear that Gilda finally realized who was standing in front of her. “You,” she hissed. “You sound surprised,” Rarity muttered and crossed her arms. The pose would have looked far more intimidating if she had had time to change out of her nightwear. “Are you trying to tell me you came to our place by accident?” Gilda gave her a look that was probably aiming for hatred but lacked the proper energy for it. “This was the only place with the lights on.” Twilight did her best to avoid Rarity’s eyes. “I had trouble sleeping,” she whispered, “so I did some reading...” “That doesn’t explain why you look like the walking dead,” Rarity told Gilda, sparing Twilight another lecture about how she wasn’t to blame for what had happened. “Says the pony with the bandage around her head,” Gilda shot back, then weakly waved her hand. “But before you bore me to death with your story, can I get some food?” Both of them looked at Twilight, who hesitated. “I’d prefer to stay - given how high the stakes are and what happened, I worry about Miss Belle’s safety.” “Oh c’mon, I can barely-” “I got it,” Miss Pie’s voice made all of them turn around. The pink-furred Earth pony slowly came down the stairs, dressed in the same business suit she had worn during the day. Rarity wasn’t sure if she had dressed so quickly or if she had slept in it, and she didn’t put either scenario past this pony. “After all, it is my duty to ensure that the contestants treat each other fairly.” “Fairly?” Gilda asked and laughed even as Twilight left for the kitchen. “That’s a good one, Miss Adjudicator! How about addressing the fact that Rarity manipulated the race!?” “Are you implying that Miss Belle organized the biggest fuel heist in the history of Equestria with only half a day of prep time?” Miss Pie’s deadpan expression looked extremely convincing, and not even Rarity could tell that she knew of Twilight’s undoubtedly insane scheme. “Y-...” Gilda froze when she realized that Miss Pie had made an excellent point. She frowned but recovered quickly. “I told the Feds that you’re behind this. You will rot in prison.” “I certainly don’t hope you’re banking your career on that, darling,” Rarity purred. “I don’t have to - from the lack of gloating, I presume you failed to close the deal, so tomorrow it’s my turn to-” “Hot... hot... hot...” Twilight came back from the kitchen with a steaming bowl. Rarity was moderately amused by the fact that she had apparently forgotten to use her magic to levitate the hot bowl, but didn’t comment on it. “Found some cans of stew that were still good. It’s not a lot, and if we stay longer, we should go shopping, but it should be enough to last us a day or two.” She handed Gilda the bowl, then frowned. “I wonder what’s taking Trixie so long.” Gilda didn’t even react (or thank Twilight) and just took in the smell of her food. Twilight’s frown turned into a mildly alarmed expression. She walked over to the front door and opened it. Then she stepped outside. There was almost half a minute of silence in the library before she came back in, eyes wide. “Miss Dawnstar?” she asked, her voice still surprisingly level. “Where did you park your car?” Gilda hesitated, then blew on her food. “Parking lot.” “...the parking lot of the Ponyville train station?” Twilight asked carefully. “The parking lot of the gas station,” Gilda replied without even bothering to give Twilight a look. She ate a spoonful of her stew and nodded happily. “This isn’t actually half bad!” “But... but...” “I mean, it’s trash, but better than some of the stuff we can get in the company food court. You know, like that place that-” “Gilda,” Rarity interrupted her even as Twilight was obviously still trying to convince herself that Gilda had not meant the gas station that was roughly two hundred miles away. “What?” Gilda asked flatly. She didn’t like being interrupted on the best of days. “Look, you can’t have any. Go to the kitchen and make your own.” Rarity exhaled audibly. “How did you get here?” “I flew, dweeb,” Gilda replied and grinned sardonically. “And boy, are my wings tired!” Twilight’s face locked up at a weird angle as several emotions collided with zero filter. Rarity could only guess what went on in Twilight’s head right now. Gilda unwittingly outsmarted Twilight’s plan. And managed to do it in a way that turned it against her wife and only her wife. She paled when Twilight reached out with one hand and made her Purse of Infinity Plus One fly over to her with a quick burst of magic. A quick look confirmed that Miss Pie was fully aware of the danger Gilda was in right now. I need to defuse this. The thought almost made her laugh. I need to save Gilda’s life. “Right. Um. Gilda, I need you to answer something real fast and without snark.” She waited a moment until Gilda was giving her a quizzical look. “Trixie is fine and happy and will definitely be here first thing in the morning, right?” Gilda hesitated. “Well... it turns out that gas stations can’t just order a few truckloads worth of fuel with same-day delivery. It might take... a while...” “A while,” Rarity echoed. She knew Gilda well enough to realize that something was wrong. Behind Gilda, Twilight was also catching on to that sentiment. “The first fuel trucks should arrive at the gas station before regular business hours,” she said, her eyes narrowing dangerously. “Trixie will easily be here before lunchtime.” A pause. “Do you agree with this assessment, Miss Dawnstar?” Gilda blinked when she heard Twilight’s tone. She slowly gave Twilight a look over her shoulder, then quickly looked back at Rarity. “A word, please?” “Miss Dawnstar, I fail to see any errors in my logic, given the assumptions I outlined. Would you please-” “Hold on to that thought, darling!” Rarity quickly waved one hand and gave Twilight her most reassuring smile. “This will take just a moment.” She gave Miss Pie a quick nod, and the Earth pony positioned herself closer to Twilight while Rarity signaled Gilda to join her in the kitchen. It felt weird leaving the pony responsible for everybody’s safety behind as she closed the kitchen door behind her and her nemesis, but in a very twisted way, Miss Pie was doing her job right now. “What did you do?” she hissed. “I swear, if you hurt your own secretary, I will-” “Pshaw!” Gilda rolled her eyes. “Pretty sure our dearest Miss Adjudicator might hold that against me.” She crossed her arms... and lowered her eyes. “But Trixie... isn’t going to join us tomorrow, at least not before noon.” She reached into her pocket and pulled out a small keychain. Rarity gave the keys a look. “What are you talking ab-...” Her voice trailed off when she realized that one of the key fobs bore the Chevallet logo. And while she wasn’t a car buff, she knew at least one car this company manufactured. “Oh heavens no,” she whispered and slowly turned her head towards the kitchen door. Gilda exhaled slowly. “Yyyeah. In my defense, I pocketed those keys long before I left. Pretty shortly after our call. I was... aggravated. Shouting... happened.” She shrugged. “But look, it’s no biggie. Twilight might pout a bit, but she’ll get over not having any playmates in her income bracket for a day or two. I figure Trixie will call someone at the company to come to her with a spare key. Or a cab.” When she saw that Rarity’s horrified expression was not improving, she frowned. “What?” “You...” Should I tell her? I mean, she probably doesn’t know, but I guess Twilight didn’t intend to keep this secret anymore if she openly told Miss Pie and me, right? “You... accidentally stranded Twilight’s wife,” she finally said. “Twilight’s wife?” Gilda gave her a look of disbelief. Then she parsed that sentence. “Oh wow. Okay, now I actually feel kinda-...” She blinked a few times as she parsed that sentence again. “Twilight is married to friggen TRIXIE?” Her sharp laugh was out before Rarity could grab her beak. “OH WOW! And here I thought that Twilight was smart! Guess love really really makes you blind and stupid!” They both turned to the kitchen door when they heard a commotion on the other side. Rarity sighed. “I can’t believe I have to save your ungrateful hide,” she muttered, signaling Gilda to follow her. Even after a day full of surprises, Rarity still felt the sight of Miss Pie pinning Twilight to the floor while the latter was desperately trying to reach a crossbow was worthy of a place in the Top Five list. She did a double take at the medieval weapon. “...was that really your number one choice, darling?” she asked and picked it up after double-checking that it wasn’t loaded. Twilight gave her a dark look, even as Miss Pie helped her to her hooves. “Given that we are indoors and that you would have stood in the blast radius, I couldn’t go for my rocket launcher.” “I like her style,” Gilda muttered when Rarity only managed to open and close her mouth a few times. “But dweeb, sorry to say that your wife is stuck where she is for the time being.” She casually held up her car keys. Twilight, in a display of her usual efficiency, seemingly went through all five stages of grief simultaneously. Miss Pie slowly raised her arms, looking mildly worried. Or at least she was frowning, which Rarity took as a sign of worry. Twilight raised her fists, then slowly unclenched them. One deep breath was followed by another as she apparently burnt through all her remaining energy just to stop herself from doing things to Gilda. Finally, she let out a long sigh. “Why?” Next to her, Gilda exhaled slowly. “It was an accident. Trust me when I say I have nothing to gain from dumping my secretary in the middle of nowhere.” A pause. “Okay, that’s a lie,” she conceded. “I have a ton to gain from that. I mean, do you know how much she talks? She’s competent, but WOW, I have yet to meet a more annoying-...” She blinked when she realized that Twilight was not in the middle of a mad dash to punch her in the face. “Are you even listening to me?” “Tch,” Twilight muttered and rolled her eyes. “Of course I’m listening. And do you know how much she talks? I live with her!” She started to slowly walk over to Gilda during her monologue. “And that whole third-person thing? It’s not an act. She talks like that.” She grabbed Gilda’s shirt with one hand to bring her face close to the griffon’s. “Do you know how disorienting it is when she talks like that during the height of passion?” Gilda frowned as she tried to decipher Twilight’s euphemism, then grimaced. “Okay, that was way too much information, dweeb. But if you find her so annoying, why’d you marry her?” “Because my love for her is absolute,” Twilight said, her voice a conspiratorial whisper. “I accept her as she is, and she does the same for me. Do you know how rare it is to find a pony who can listen to the monologues of a genius like me?” “Especially a genius as modest as you,” Gilda added, and they exchanged the most hostile grins Rarity had ever seen. “And beyond mutual acceptance, there is our synergy.” Twilight stroked Gilda’s cheek in an almost intimate way. “You probably have no idea what either of us truly can do, but together...” She laughed at a joke only she got. “So the bottom line, Miss Dawnstar, is this: I would die for Trixie.” And just like that, she brought her knee up in one decisive motion, ramming it into Gilda’s abdomen, making her drop to her knees. “And I would kill for her,” she added, even though Rarity doubted that Gilda was able to hear her over the sound of her own violent coughing. Oof, as satisfying as that was to watch, I really hope this doesn’t get me disqualified by Miss- Rarity didn’t even have time to finish the thought before Gilda launched herself at Twilight and wrestled her to the ground. “KILL FOR HER, EH?” Gilda roared, and Twilight had to use all her strength to keep the griffon’s talons away from her throat. After a moment of struggling, Twilight’s horn lit up, but nothing seemed to happen. Just when Rarity wanted to ask why Gilda wasn’t floating away or why Twilight hadn’t teleported to safety, a knife zoomed across the room, coming straight for- “I believe you two have had your share of fun,” Miss Pie calmly said as she grabbed the knife before it could impale itself in Gilda’s skull. “But now I must ask you to cease the attempted murder.” Gilda gave the knife and then Twilight a look. “Not bad,” she cackled and got to her feet. “I like your style, Sparkle. Are there any griffons somewhere in your family tree? You certainly got the attitude of one, hidden beneath all that politeness.” Twilight got to her hooves and straightened her mane as if she hadn’t just completely blown a fuse and started a fight to the death with a griffon. “I’m sorry for the slight lapse of judgment,” she apologized to nobody in particular. “It’s fine,” Rarity said. “Note to self, stop making fun of Trixie,” she added quietly, making Gilda chortle. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I will see if I can fix this mess.” Twilight took her knife back, picked up her purse, then traded the weapon for a cellphone. “Yeah, good luck,” Gilda muttered. “I lost my last bar of reception half an hour before arriving here.” Twilight gave her a look. “You forget, Miss Dawnstar, that Trixie and I share a special bond. With love, everything is possible.” “Love... doesn’t give you better cellphone recept-...” Gilda gave Rarity an exasperated look. “Am I the one who’s nuts here? Did I maybe give her a concussion just now?” “That shows how little you know.” Twilight smiled confidently. “Love is the one thing we're capable of perceiving that transcends dimensions of time and space.” She paused, then snickered when she saw Gilda’s look. “Also, this is a satellite phone.” “How can you stand her smarty-pants act?” Gilda hissed while Twilight was fiddling with her phone. Then she narrowed her eyes. “Also, since when did you know that my secretary was married to yours?” “Just learned about that when the race started,” Rarity muttered. “And I already tried to fire her once today.” “...she has contingencies against being fired?” “Let’s just say that the revelation about the marriage was not the biggest surprise today.” “Heyyy!” Twilight cheered, then froze. “Wait, crap, it’s the middle of the night, did I-...” A pause. “Thank goodness. ...yeah, we’re fine. Well... kinda fine. Long story. But hey, guess who just arrived!” She listened for a few seconds, then suddenly held the phone at arm’s length. Rarity and Gilda couldn’t hear specific words, but they got the general mood from the sheer volume of Trixie’s screams. “I think she knows,” Twilight stage whispered before carefully moving the phone closer to her face again. “Love? ...love? Yeah... yeah, she’s sorry.” Another pause as Trixie undoubtedly told Twilight in loud and no uncertain terms where exactly Gilda could stick her apology. Twilight opened her mouth again, then froze as Trixie apparently had more to say. “Well now... well now...” She was starting to grin. “What?” Gilda asked. Rarity could tell that she was anxious, even if she was trying to hide it. “Ah, Trixie just mentioned that you didn’t just forget to leave the keys behind.” She paused, and her grin widened when Gilda just gave her a blank look. Then, with a flick of her magic, she made Rarity’s briefcase float into her outstretched hand. A second passed. Then another. Rarity realized what Twilight was hinting at just in time to cover her ears before Gilda let loose a horrendous screech that probably woke up half of Ponyville. “NO!” Gilda finally screamed once she remembered to use actual words again. She frantically scanned the library before patting her pockets, as if hoping that they were as bottomless as Twilight’s purse and contained her own briefcase. Then she cursed loudly and stormed over to where Twilight was standing. “GIMME THAT PHO-...OOoooOooOOOooo...” This one-handed wrist lock was one Rarity had never even seen before, and she was quite happy about that because it looked even meaner than the one Twilight had taught her. Gilda was twisting her body backward until she looked like she had suffered a massive cramp during a limbo competition. “Yes,” Twilight said, “I’m sure Miss Dawnstar will be quite cooperative in getting you here. Isn’t it lovely when we all work together as a big, happy family?” She chuckled and let Trixie answer. “Yeah, I’ll check the maps. You send me your position, and I’ll-... yeah, sweet. Now get some sleep; we’ll probably only get one attempt at this in the morning.” She smiled. “Love you, too. Bye!” And with that, she thumbed her phone screen with one hand and let go of Gilda with the other. “You... how will you get Trixie here?” Gilda asked and massaged her wrist. “I-” “She won’t,” Rarity said, scowling openly. “Miss Belle, I-” “Twilight, a word, please?” Rarity pointed at the kitchen and led the way without waiting for an answer. Boy, this kitchen is rapidly becoming my least favorite room. Rarity took a deep breath. I don’t want to be the villain in this piece! I don’t want Twilight to hate me! But-... She exhaled slowly when she heard hoofsteps behind her. “I-...” Twilight sighed, causing Rarity to turn around. “I’m sorry, Miss Belle,” she finally whispered. “I’m just-” “You’re worried about Trixie,” Rarity said and tried to give her her best smile. “I understand. And I’m sorry that the plan you set in motion for me is now costing you personally.” She crossed her arms, praying that she wasn’t looking too stern. “But I can’t let you do this. You know that, right?” Twilight nodded almost imperceptibly. “You are hoping to get another shot with Miss Applejack before Miss Dawnstar talks to her.” “Yes. Do you think it will work?” There was a long silence as Twilight did her best to focus less on her wife freezing in a car in the middle of nowhere and more on Rarity’s career. “Probably not, no,” she finally muttered and closed her eyes. Crap. But I pretty much expected it. “Why not?” “GUESS!?” Rarity took a quick step back - apparently, Twilight had not burnt through all of her adrenaline and rage during her fight with Gilda. “I-... I’m sorry, Miss Belle. That was unprofessional of me.” Twilight slowly unclenched her fists and moved a hand through her mane. “It’s been a long day, and I’m... just...” “Just buy me a few hours,” Rarity whispered. “That’s all I need. Then you can work your miracles.” “I still don’t think it’ll work.” Twilight started to pace. “In the most ideal case, it would come down to the question of whether Miss Applejack would agree to your offer if you made it while she is not flinging your briefcase around. Which I doubt. She strikes me as stubborn, and this farm is her world.” “Her world is rapidly bleeding money.” Twilight gave her a long look, and it took Rarity a moment to realize that it was a look of pity. “There are things more important than money, Miss Belle.” The words hung in the air like an indictment, and Rarity was at a loss of words. “Also,” Twilight continued as if nothing had happened, “just because her briefcase is missing doesn’t mean that Miss Dawnstar is just going to evaporate.” “Ugh, you’re right, darling.” Rarity rolled her eyes. “This would be an uphill battle, even without Gilda.” She chuckled. “Heh. Get it? Uphill battle? Because the farm is-...” Twilight was not laughing. Rarity huffed. “The briefcase is my one trump card. As long as Gilda doesn’t have her contract at hand, I have a shot.” She walked towards the door. “Once I got Miss Applejack’s signature, I will make things up for you and Trixie, I promise.” She had thought (and hoped) that Gilda would be asleep on the couch by now. It had been a reasonable expectation, given that the griffon had barely slept during the last forty-eight hours and had apparently spent several hours flying here. The next best case would have been a pacified Gilda enjoying her stew. After all, the griffon was almost tolerable when she wasn’t hungry. What she hadn’t expected was Gilda sitting at the large table a bit further away, hunched over something Rarity couldn’t quite make out from her current angle. “What’re you doing?” “What do you think, dweeb?” Gilda asked back without looking up. “Well, if I had to guess, you’re doing something I won’t like.” She carefully moved closer - it was highly unlikely that this was some insane last-ditch ambush, but she hadn’t survived this long by underestimating Gilda’s potential for violence. “I’m breathing, so I’m doing that by definition.” Rarity allowed herself a brief smile at that. Then she saw what Gilda was doing. “Are you writing a contract?” Gilda finally looked up and raised an eyebrow. “Not a contract. The contract.” “You mean-...” She narrowed her eyes when she saw that Gilda was indeed writing the contract outlining the sale of Sweet Apple Acres. In longhand. “...did you memorize the contract?” “Pshaw, buzz off,” Gilda muttered and held up her cellphone. It took Rarity a moment to realize that Gilda must have either taken a photo of the contract or downloaded a copy onto it. “Only a complete dweeb would memorize a contract like that.” She looked over her shoulder. “Sparkle, did you memorize yours?” “Of course, Miss Dawnstar,” Twilight replied without thinking. “See? Proves my point.” Gilda smirked. “But yeah, it’ll look stupid to present a contract on this tiny phone screen. And while it’s unusual, a handwritten contract is just as valid as one that came out of a printer.” “But-... but-...” Rarity gestured frantically at her. “You were despairing! Screeching! I figured you didn’t have any options!” Gilda sighed and put her pen down. “Do you have any idea how horrible my day has been? I’m this close to tearing someone’s throat out, I’m sleep-deprived, I’m exhausted, and I had to listen to Trixie’s karaoke power hour for far longer than the advertised hour. So yeah, realizing that I FORGOT MY ALL-IMPORTANT DOCUMENTS made me rage a little bit.” She held up the pen. “But I didn’t rise to my current position by letting a simple logistical failure stop me. There are always contingencies.” She turned back to her contract. “Now go to bed.” “But-...” Rarity gestured at Gilda, then at Twilight, then back at Gilda. “NO!” she finally screeched. “Are you telling me that I just turned my ONE ally in this mess against me while trying to DELAY you? And then YOU AREN’T EVEN GOING TO BE DELAYED?” Gilda gave her a sleazy grin. “I wish I could claim credit for that, but that’s all on you. That being said, Hearth’s Warming Eve would come early if your idiocy led to Twilight letting you down when you need her the most.” Her grin widened. “I would make sure to rub it in every single day you will last as my coffee maid.” “The word is still ‘barista,’ Miss Dawnstar,” Twilight’s voice made both of them turn their heads. “And Miss Belle knows where my loyalty lies and that she can rely on me, even when she has to make a tough decision.” “But that’s just it, Twilight,” Gilda replied lazily. “It’s not a tough decision for her. She makes the decision that benefits her, end of discussion.” She turned back to her contract, ignoring the way Rarity was trembling. “She doesn’t care about you. If she did, she would have suggested to let you bring back Trixie and only Trixie.” The words made Rarity freeze. Not because they were true, but because she hadn’t even considered this option. “But she obviously didn’t. She only cares about her career and won’t make even the smallest concession if there is a tiny chance that doing so will harm her. I know this because, at the end of the day, Rarity and I are the same.” “Heh.” Twilight smiled and shook her head. “Maybe you and Miss Belle are the same,” she conceded, “but you’re giving both yourself and her far too little credit.” A pause. “Also, Miss Pie likely would have objected to stranding your luggage and the car.” Rarity blinked at that, then forced herself to smile, too. “Thank you, Twilight. And...” She sighed. “And I suppose I can give you permission to do whatever miracle you want to pull off tomorrow morning. That way, Gilda can get some sleep as well.” Gilda once again stopped transcribing the contract. “What’s the catch, dweeb? You have zero reasons to be nice to me.” Rarity put on an impassive face. “You get stupid ideas when you’re sleep-deprived. And I prefer not having to worry about you pulling some insane and desperate stunt that might get all of us killed or indicted. That’s all.” “Well, that, and you get to feel all high and mighty,” Gilda added and smirked. “Not to mention that you want to make extra sure to stay on little Miss Perfect’s good side, just in case she was feeding you a line about being loyal. And you didn’t actually answer my question, so I guess you’ll try to tack on some stupid demand later.” “Whatever the reason,” Rarity said and stuck out her hand without confirming or denying anything, “let’s have a truce, at least until tomorrow morning. We’ll get Trixie back, and then we’ll visit Sweet Apple Acres together.” “You want to come along?” Gilda raised an eyebrow. “Last-ditch effort to sabotage me so that we both fail?” “Miss Applejack did this to me.” Rarity pointed at the bandage around her head with her other hand and grinned. “I just want to see what she will do to you.” Gilda smirked. “Fine, I’ll let you witness my triumph.” She shook Rarity’s hand. “Let this be the last deal you close, dweeb.”