“You know, you don’t have to follow me back to my place.”
“Eh, it’s not like it’s that far out of the way from where I’m going. And I could always use the extra exercise.”
Sunset shrugged as she walked at a smooth pace down the sidewalk, Rainbow Dash just behind her to the left. Behind the two of them, Canterlot High School faded into the background as the two headed into town, past the scattered houses that reflected the city’s odd urban planning choices.
It was a bright and warm, but not sweltering, sunny afternoon, though they hadn’t had much chance to enjoy it. The longest, craziest school year of their lives – filled with magic pony princesses, mystically-enraging band competitions, carnivorous plant-filled motorcycle races, and sudden superpower acquisitions – had come to a close the previous week, and yet Sunset and Rainbow had managed to spend most of the day at CHS anyway, helping execute one fundraiser event while casually planning another for the next day.
Though Sunset had to admit the motorcycle race sounded outright relaxing compared to trying to manage one of Pinkie’s (in)famous one-woman bake sales. Pinkie may have kept the same perky attitude as usual, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t extremely efficient at keeping track of what had been accomplished and what still needed to be done. Understandably so, granted – it was her treats they were selling and her image as an aspiring baker on the line, and Pinkie lived to ensure all her patrons/future partygoers were satisfied with her work – but that didn’t make three people trying to run essentially four food stands (pretzels, cupcakes & brownies, cookies, and fresh-baked bread) at once any easier. Rainbow Dash’s speed powers helped, but there had been only a few lulls during the whole four hours, which they’d mostly spent talking about the next day’s car wash event.
It didn’t help that a typographical error, which Pinkie refused to correct on principle, meant that they were severely undercharging for the cupcakes, which naturally became the most popular item. So the “fundraiser” aspect of the sale had been rather disappointing, though certainly not a total failure.
Regardless, the whole ordeal was already fading fast from Sunset’s mind as she walked toward her apartment, her evening plans looming over her mind.
“I mean, unless you don’t want me to go with you.”
“Huh?” Sunset snapped back to reality, looking at Rainbow. “Oh, no, sorry, you’re fine. I’m just kinda surprised you’re walking at normal speed.”
“Oh,” Rainbow said. “I mean, I was already zipping around during the whole bake sale and stuff, and I don’t like doing that all the time, y’know? Time kinda gets all weird and messy after a while. Best just to use it when it matters.”
Sunset laughed softly as she looked toward the ground, carefully navigating some uneven pavement. “Didn’t you use the geode to shoot home and back because the vending machine was out of your favorite jerky?”
“That was an emergency!” Rainbow huffed. “How can I be an effective softball team captain when I haven’t had my protein fix that happens to have the right balance of flavor?”
“I’m pretty sure that you were already drinking one of your fancy protein shakes.”
“They’re not fancy, they're useful! And you can’t just rely on one kind of protein, Sunset!”
“Alright, alright, I believe you,” Sunset replied, not believing her. She looked up, and saw the midtown buildings coming into view ahead. She glanced over toward Rainbow Dash. “Besides, I could definitely use the company.”
Rainbow tilted her head. “Why? Something wrong?”
“Um–” Sunset and Rainbow both stepped off the pavement to their respective sides to let a set of younger children playing a game pass through, then stepped back together. “Not exactly wrong, just, uh, nervous, I guess.”
She could feel the smirk that emerged on Rainbow’s face. “Oh, is Sunset worried about doing something with her girrrrlfriend again?”
Sunset rolled her eyes. “Cute. And she’s not what I’m worried about.”
“Oh, so it’s a coincidence that you helped with this fundraiser and not the one Twilight was part of?”
“Yes, it was a coincidence,” Sunset said, emphatically flatly. “Pinkie asked me to help at the bake sale, Fluttershy asked Twilight to plan the doggy day-care with her, and we didn’t know they were at the same time until later. Besides, we aren’t joined at the hip.”
“Alright, alright,” Rainbow replied, holding up her hands defensively as Sunset glanced over. “Just teasing, sheesh. So what’s the problem?”
It was a very flippant way to ask a ridiculously loaded question – and really, how else could Sunset have expected Rainbow Dash to ask it?
“Well,” Sunset slowly began as they both turned to face forward, “we’re having dinner together with her brother. Well, her brother and, um, his fianceé.”
“Woah,” Rainbow replied. “Meeting the family already? Hasn’t it only been two weeks?”
“Three tomorrow, actually,” Sunset said as she nonchalantly kicked a branch off the sidewalk. “But, I mean, at this point it’s kinda weird I haven’t met all of them already, given everything that we’ve – well, that Twilight and I’ve been through.”
“Her parents gonna be there too?”
Sunset shook her head. Those two Sunset had met before, albeit briefly, just a few days after the Friendship Games; Twilight’s brother hadn’t been there. She hadn’t seen them since the start of the relationship, however.
“So what’s the problem? Her brother can’t be that bad. I mean I guess maybe he could be super-defensive or something, but I mean he probably can’t get too weird with everyone else there.”
“Oh, um…” Sunset swallowed. “He’s actually not what I’m worried about.”
Rainbow looked over at Sunset. “What, the Crystal Prep dean? Isn’t she, like, the one Shadowbolt who wasn’t a complete peer-pressure weirdo to Twilight? I mean they gotta get along at least kinda well if she’s marrying her brother, right?”
Sunset turned her head as well. “I know, and they’re fine. Everything Twilight says about her sounds really nice and stuff. But, well… I guess it’s not really about her. It’s just really hard to explain.”
“Try me.”
Sunset blinked. “What?”
Rainbow hopped over in front of Sunset to avoid someone walking in the other direction, and they both paused their stride.
They’d gone quite a ways by then, and were barely two meters away from the stoplight that marked the dividing line between Canterlot’s semi-suburbia and its midtown district. But Sunset wasn’t processing more than the bare minimum of visual input into her eyes at the moment; she was still preoccupied with the concept of Rainbow Dash wanting to listen.
“It can’t really be that weird for me to ask that, right?” Rainbow asked, clearly reading her mind.
“Um… kinda…?”
Rainbow huffed. “Look, you’re not the only one who’s learned a few things the past year, y’know. I know I gotta get a little bit better at listening to everyone else after it bit me in the ass, like, definitely at least twice this year. So I’m, like, trying to start.”
Sunset slowly nodded in lieu of reply.
Rainbow stepped back to Sunset’s left, and they resumed walking. “Okay, so…”
“It’s a little weird. It gets into, uh, Equestria.”
“That does sound weird when we’re talking about someone not from Equestria. I think. Buuuut keep going.”
And as they reached the stoplight, Sunset began.
There was a surprising modesty to Twilight’s brother’s home – well, his and her home.
The first time Sunset had seen Twilight’s place of residence, she’d been taken sharply aback. Not that it hadn’t made sense that the girl who had easy access to advanced lab equipment and technological materials, not to mention had a family carrying a proud association with an elite private school, came from a place of wealth, but… well, really, it shouldn’t have taken her aback. But it had anyway, as tends to happen when one sees a friend’s higher status made manifest in a way that doesn’t show at all in the equalized world of schooling and most other social situations.
It was a point of local pride, Sunset had come to learn, that housing in Canterlot City was affordable and plentiful, the former to the point where even those functioning primarily off the nation’s basic income could conceivably be a homeowner. It had made the town an attractive spot for new families to move to, and indeed Sunset was the only one in her friend group living in an apartment, of which Canterlot had comparatively few. And even her place, which she’d acquired through the surprisingly high value she’d managed to exchange her golden Equestrian bits for those few years earlier, was quite expansive and roomy, and even had a partial second floor that served as a bedroom.
But even with the almost deceptively high-class look of the city at large, Twilight’s home stood out. Not merely in its size – Rarity’s home was big as well, owing to, among other things, her father’s storied history in the athletic world – but its strangely customized ornateness. Twilight had mentioned the house had been in her family for some time, and yet it looked practically tailored to her; not her parents, not her brother, but her. It was painted in pinks and lavenders that screamed Twilight Sparkle, and bore the image of her icon – the world’s equivalent to cutie marks, which people rarely seemed to notice despite them always manifesting on clothing or items – splashed across the windows and front door. In a world that often felt like it deemphasized the personal and individual touches that had been commonplace in Equestria, it stood out sharply, even moreso for someone as shy as Twilight.
One day she’d ask more directly about what it all meant. Even if it meant braving the awkwardness that usually came with asking about icons. (People – even her friends – seemed a lot more touchy talking about icons than ponies were with cutie marks.)
But in the back of Sunset’s mind, she’d almost expected the rest of Twilight’s family to follow suit, and that her brother’s recently acquired home would reflect his icon, or perhaps – as Sunset had feared – hers. But no, it was perfectly plain, and surprisingly small, featuring only a single floor and without much in the way of a yard besides a small patch adjacent to the driveway.
Perhaps that made sense, she mused as she stepped off the walkway and onto the welcome mat, reflexively ringing the doorbell and setting her motorcycle helmet down as her mind wandered. After all, she would have–
Suddenly the door was open, and there was Twilight.
A quick “You made it!” was all the warning Sunset got before she was wrapped in a tight hug, one so swift she didn’t quite figure out how to properly react to it. Especially when her gaze went inside the doorway and alighted upon a tall, broad-shouldered figure watching.
“Hey, Twi,” Sunset said, slowly raising up her arms and closing them around Twilight’s torso. Feeling Twilight’s head beside her own, she frantically weighed whether it’d be more weird to kiss her or to not kiss her. Without any external pressure, of course, she probably wouldn’t have; she wasn’t the type to greet with a kiss. At least, she didn’t think so. Maybe. But with her actions implicitly being evaluated? That complicated things. Not kissing Twilight might give the impression they weren’t serious, which seemed like a bad thing for her brother to think. But kissing her, even on the cheek, might be read as too forward. Plus, would he be able to tell it was forced? Her mind was agonizing over the decision when Twilight pulled back and took the decision out of her hands with a cheek kiss of her own.
Phew.
She could feel heat spreading on her cheeks as Twilight met her eyes. Both of them smiled. Over the past two weeks, Sunset’s efforts to analyze her capacity for physical attraction toward humans were still as much a struggle as ever. But she had begun to figure out the meaning of the expression “hearts aflutter”, and seeing joy on Twilight’s face was already having a tendency to do that to her – in a mercifully metaphorical sense, anyway.
So… some progress there had been made, at least.
“I’m really sorry we weren’t able to pick you up,” Twilight spoke after a moment. “Fluttershy dropped me off at my place, and I only barely had time to shower before Shining came and got me! And believe me, I really needed it after all those dogs were crawling over me all day.”
“Hey, you don’t have to apologize. I told you I’d make it over.”
“Where’d you park?”
“Just on the side of the road there.” She picked up her helmet. “Can I come in?”
Now it was Twilight blushing. “Oh, right, of course.” She stepped back, and Sunset crossed the threshold, bringing the tall figure into more focus. Twilight’s brother, freshly graduated from college, hair a bit shorter than she’d seen in pictures but wearing the same icon-embroidered v-neck sweater over a collared shirt with tie. She really ought to have remembered his name at this point, but was regrettably coming up blank. He eyed her curiously, and she avoided meeting the gaze, instead looking around to find where to put–
“You can just leave your shoes next to the door there,” he said. “And the helmet too, I guess.”
She looked over towards him again, then followed to where he was motioning. She nodded, then followed his advice. “Thanks.”
“No problem,” he said as Sunset looked up and finally made eye contact. “It looks cool, too, by the way. The helmet, I mean.” He shrugged. “Glad you could come by.”
“Same.” With Twilight now to her right, she walked past her and held out an arm. “Sunset Shimmer.”
He grasped her hand firmly. “Shining Armor,” he said, Sunset mentally memorizing the name. “Nice to meet you in person. Twily’s talked about you a lot.”
Sunset didn’t have to check to see if Twilight’s blush had exponentially increased; she knew. And she also knew the redness in her girlfriend’s face would only deepen after she asked the follow-up question. “Twily?”
Indeed, there was an embarrassed noise from behind.
“Just a sibling name. Really, she’s the one who started it. She always called me Shiny when she was little. Still does, sometimes.”
“No one made you keep it up, you know,” Twilight’s voice piped in. Sunset looked over to see the blush starting to drain from Twilight’s face as she looked more sharply – though not outright glaring – at Shining.
“Eh, it’s fun to say,” he replied as Twilight walked up beside her.
Sunset was trying to think of something interesting, useful, or at least comprehensible to add when Twilight bailed her out again without even trying. “So how was the bake sale?” she asked with a slight nudge.
“Bake sale?” Shining asked.
“Oh,” Sunset said, “it was where I was today. Well, obviously, I guess, that was probably pretty obvious. And redundant. But anyway, it’s one of the fundraisers we’re running to try and help Camp Everfree repair some of its older buildings, now that they’ve bought themselves back from RBB Enterprises. I was helping out with that one, and the doggy day-care Twilight was at was another one. And we’ll be running a car wash at the CHS parking lot tomorrow if you want to stop by then at all.”
Shining chuckled. “Probably not a great idea. Last time I was at CHS, some Crystal Preppers and I were dressing the Wondercolt statue in a clown outfit with super-adhesive glue. And since I’m the one who drove everyone there, I’m a little paranoid my car’ll get keyed if I pull up anywhere near there, even after everything since then.”
That should have seemed kinda ridiculous, but Sunset did recall overhearing Rainbow and Lyra talking about particular Shadowbolt cars to egg if they showed up on campus, so maybe the information had been obsessively passed down over the years. Regardless, she’d noticed Twilight flinching at the mention of the recently-demolished statue, so she pulled the conversation back to the bake sale.
“Well, anyway, everything today went pretty, um… nuts, honestly,” she said as she turned to face Twilight. “It was really exhausting, there were only three of us managing all these people, and Pinkie was gone half the time actually making some stuff like the fresh bread, and when she was there, she was… yeah. Business Mode Pinkie, not super fun. But how was your thing?”
“Kinda the same,” Twilight said with a shrug. “Thought it’d be a lot more fun too, but, uh, it turns out a lot of dogs don’t really like each other? And I mean I know that, but just kinda forgot about it, and then suddenly there’s all these angry dogs that Fluttershy and I were having to try and keep away from each other and it was just a mess, even with her powers. I mean thankfully it was mostly the little dogs that were being mean and the big ones were basically ignoring them, but still. And I was definitely glad Spike convinced me not to bring him along like I’d wanted.”
Sunset nodded. She finally took a moment to glance around the room, which was minimally decorated; the eggshell walls bore little more than a clock and a few framed photos. She took special note of one that seemed to be her with a much younger Twilight; probably good to have a backup conversation starter on standby, and it’s not as though she wouldn’t be interested in knowing the story behind it. Of course, that would mean having to–
Her eyes darted back to Twilight. “Did you at least get some money out of it?”
“Not really, offering discounts for people bringing more than one pet was a big mistake. Probably took in less than a quarter of the overall goal. Really hope the car wash goes well.”
There was a distant sound of a plate clattering against a table, and Shining spoke. “Hate to interrupt,” he said as the two shifted to face him again, “but it sounds like we might be almost ready to go.”
Sunset blinked. “Dinner already?”
Shining grinned. “Hope you’re in the mood for Oleandrite cuisine. I made the pasta and salad, but she insisted on handling the meatballs and garlic bread. Family recipes, and Twilight can tell you they really are that good.”
Pushing aside the weight of the words family recipes, Sunset started to raise a hand. “Um-”
“Don’t worry. This isn’t her first time making a vegetarian version, either.”
“Oh, thanks.” The hand lowered, and she valiantly suppressed the thought of her eating meat.
“No problem, Twily warned us. If you’re not vegan, everything else should be fine. Anyway, I think we can go and head in now.”
He turned and walked through an archway into a short hall. Sunset turned and flashed a smile at Twilight, which must have been more awkward than she’d hoped because Twilight’s response was a quizzical stare.
“Are you okay?”
“What? Oh, um, yeah, no, I’m fine,” Sunset lied.
Twilight gave her a quick pat on the back. “Hey, it’s alright, Sunset. They both already like you, so nothing to worry about, right?”
“I, um, guess not.”
Twilight’s hand moved from Sunset’s back to her right wrist, then onto her open palm, clasping it. “C’mon, let’s go. You gotta be hungry, right?”
“Definitely,” Sunset said. That was certainly true, at least, she mused as her belly grumbled.
Twilight tugged, and Sunset followed her down the hall to where the fateful dining table lay.
Rainbow hadn’t been lying about her efforts to improve her listening skills. She’d done an admirable job of paying attention as Sunset had gone into detail that surprised even herself on what was bothering her. On the way over to the house, Sunset had been questioning how she could have been that open with Rainbow, of all her friends, but still not have told Twilight.
It wasn’t an intentional omission, of course. But it wasn’t a particularly excusable one, either. She’d had plenty of points where she could have brought it up, or at least made a note to do so later that wasn't just of the disposable mental variety. But it seemed every time she’d come up in the months Sunset had known Twilight, it had been in the context of a painful Crystal Prep memory, or a surprise happy announcement, or just such a quick mention that interrupting would have inevitably felt uncomfortable. Even her getting roped into this dinner had been too much of a whirlwind for her to really say anything beforehand, she told herself.
Of course, the fact was that it would have felt uncomfortable in almost any instance, but Sunset chose not to acknowledge that.
Not that it stopped the regret from filling up in her as she stood in front of the table, slowly pulling out a chair as she glimpsed the image of a living phantom before her.
It would’ve been really, really good to have one person in the know with her at the table. Someone to provide cover, to recognize and deflect from awkward topics, to divert the storm away from the floodgates. A part of her wondered if it wasn’t still too late to invite Rainbow Dash – heck, even if Sunset hadn’t just made her a confidante, she still would’ve been nice as a handy way to derail conversations and reroute them into something at least tangentially about herself.
But of course, the person it should have been was Twilight, and the fact that she was now going to have to explain this to Twilight after having gone through the entire dinner with her unawares was inevitably going to end with frustration and disappointment Sunset should have been able to avoid.
Dating for not even two weeks, and Sunset was already giving Twilight reasons not to trust her. Outstanding.
She sat down on the chair and scooted in. The food that had been prepared indeed looked exquisite; Twilight had hyped up Shining’s cooking skills, and the smell of the baked rigatoni alone made it clear she hadn’t been exaggerating. Her vegetarian meatballs also looked quite impressive. She hoped she’d be able to fully appreciate it all.
Twilight was sitting to her right, Shining diagonally across from her. And as Sunset’s gaze moved from her plate upwards, she noted that, while Rainbow’s listening had indeed improved, the jury was still out on her advice-giving.
Just, like, don’t stress about it that much. Cause, well, it’s obviously not really her, right? You didn’t try to ask her all this at the Games or anything. Just try to think of her as a different person, or pony, or whatever. I mean, clearly you know the two Twilights are different people, cause otherwise you’d be trying to date them both!”
Some solid points had been raised in a very Rainbow-ish manner. But the athlete’s plan of action was proving very difficult to put into practice as Sunset looked across the table, into the face of Cadance.
The face of her sister.