Sugarcube Corner was alive with sounds, smells, and even song. Rarity perked an ear as she trotted down the road, Pinkie Pie’s voice barely louder than her own hooves on the cobblestones as it drifted out from the windows of the confectionary. The minute the evening began to settle over Ponyville, its premiere party pony began her efforts to keep the darkness and the chill at bay. In this case, those efforts involved a song about a huge muffin. Rarity shook her head, smiling to herself while pushing the front door open—only to be greeted by a cacophony of colors.
“I see she’s outdone herself. Again. Like with every time,” Rarity murmured, pausing just past the threshold to take in the assorted banners, balloons, and the general décor of the main floor.
Of course, it wasn’t ever quite that simple. She’d done decorations for events herself, and while Pinkie Pie’s style—if one could call it that—was unique, Rarity doubted she herself could make ponies feel both welcome and happy with barely-matching cloth in the same manner. Rarity pursed her lips as she cast her eyes around the rafters searching for any symmetry and failing to find it. Red, purple, blue, yellow, pink and more, cloth and streamers in every size and shape.
“Are you okay?”
Rarity shook her head briskly, yanked back to the present to face a rather concerned-looking Twilight Sparkle. The purple unicorn levitated a glass of red punch at her side, and over her shoulder, Rarity could see Fluttershy and Rainbow Dash giving her odd looks.
“Ah. Yes, I was simply—well, never mind. The party is here, then? Are the Cakes away?” Rarity replied, clearing her throat.
“They went to Manehatten for the weekend. Pinkie Pie said we were okay to use the whole place so long as we clean up after ourselves,” Twilight affirmed, smiling. “You’re the last to arrive.”
“Yes, I expect Applejack and Pinkie Pie are in the kitchen?” Rarity asked, dragging Twilight along with her to the snack table while waving her hellos to Fluttershy and Rainbow Dash over by the windows.
“They were talking about trying to bake something warm to go with the cocoa later. Pinkie Pie is going to light the fireplace. It’s going to be very cozy, I’ll bet,” Twilight said, clopping her hooves together.
“Pinkie Pie and fire,” Rainbow Dash cackled. “Yeah, that’s what I think about when somepony says ‘a party for Fluttershy’”
“Oh come now,” Rarity said, rolling her eyes before settling on a smile for Fluttershy as she closed the distance to offer her a brief hug. “All the same, ah, congratulations.”
Fluttershy giggled. “It’s just an excuse for her to throw another party, you know. I’m sure you said congratulations when I got it the first time.”
“Hey, you won’t hear me complaining. If there’s a better way to spend an evening than with you guys, I don’t know about it,” Dash shrugged.
“Do you need any help in the kitchen?” Twilight called, but as soon as the words had left her mouth, the door to the kitchen swung open, admitting a flour-covered Pinkie Pie and Applejack wearing a chef’s hat.
“Nopey-dopey, but thanks!” Pinkie chirped.
“Pies and muffins’re all in the oven,” Applejack added, swapping her chef’s hat for her stetson off the counter.
“Oh! Everypony’s here!” Pinkie Pie declared, doing a little bounce. “Let’s get this party started!”
In most respects, it was a party like the rest of the parties that were thinly-veiled excuses to get all the friends together for an evening of good food, better entertainment, and the best of friends; a rousing success. Granted, Rarity questioned Pinkie’s decision to have the theme of the party shown through baking rat-shaped cookies and coloring the punch “medical blood red”. Fluttershy, in particular, seemed perfectly content to instead fetch water from the kitchen when she was thirsty.
And then, it was so very un-like most parties in many other ways. For a change, it wasn’t due to a surprise visit from the Ponyville Fire Department. No, these little get-togethers always delighted and entertained Rarity, but this time, she found herself watching Pinkie Pie. While Rarity paused for a moment to observe rather than simply drink in the delightful atmosphere, she became keenly aware of the pink pony’s efforts.
Pinkie Pie wove between them all with an odd, whimsical grace. Whenever there was a laugh to be shared, she laughed with them, and when Twilight had drained her glass of punch, it was full again within a second. Not once did she stop and try to become the center of attention, and rarely did she start a story. It was everypony elses’ night but hers, it seemed, and the pink mare seemed so very content with exactly that; if she ever seized the limelight, it was only to get things started before slipping off to let somepony else take center stage.
On impulse, Rarity detached herself from the snack table and the steadily diminishing punch bowl, sauntering over to where Applejack and Pinkie Pie stood, the pair of ponies animatedly talking and giggling. When Rarity drew near, Applejack glanced quickly over at Pinkie Pie, then offered Rarity a broad smile, dipping her head before moving off towards the other ponies by the gramophone.
“I didn’t mean to interrupt,” Rarity said, watching Applejack’s back as the earth mare left the two of them alone, making for Fluttershy, Twilight and Rainbow.
“Aw, that’s okay!” Pinkie said. “We were just done talking about pies and bakery and things. Fresh muffins in a few minutes! Are you having fun? Are you as excited about the blueberry crumblers and the chocolate-vanilla triple fudge muffins as I am?”
“Darling, I don’t think anypony can quite work up as much excitement for any type of baked good as you can,” Rarity commented with a giggle.
“When you say it like that, you make it sound like something nice,” Pinkie said, smiling back.
“And it is,” Rarity assured her, licking her lips. For a moment, she floundered, grasping for something to say, and the next moment she wondered exactly when it had begun mattering that she had nothing to say. The unicorn cleared her throat while Pinkie waited.
“Now, about this plan of yours. The place you planned on taking me,” Rarity finally managed.
“Nuh-uh!” Pinkie giggled. “That would be telling, and I said it was a secret! I don’t tell secrets, even when they’re my secrets to tell. Well, until I’m supposed to. But that’s Monday, not today. Now come on, let’s join the games!”
Rarity remained still for just a moment before she followed, finding that now, more than ever, she was curious and excited. It wasn’t the frustrating curiosity of something unseen dangling out of reach, but rather, the delightful trepidation of something else she couldn’t quite name. She laughed, played, ate and drank with the others, but all the while she kept watching Pinkie Pie out of the corner of her eye. A pink shadow who moved with them. Only when they all moved upstairs to curl up around the fireplace with blankets, cocoa and fresh-made muffins did Pinkie slow down, and that was mostly because so did the others.
To a one, they were snug and comfy, swaddled in blankets in a semicircle around the fireplace. Applejack and Pinkie Pie were over by the games chest looking for some board game or other when Rainbow Dash spoke up.
“You’re being all quiet. What’s up?” the pegasus asked, shifting inside her blanket trying to work her wings free.
“I’m sorry, you must think me awfully poor company,” Rarity retorted with a pained grin. “I’ve just got a lot on my mind, that’s all.”
“Maybe you need a break? I hear you’ve been working really hard lately,” Twilight commented over the rim of her cocoa mug.
Rarity rolled her jaw, lowering her gaze to her own untouched drink, but she smiled all the same.
“No, that’s most certainly not it,” she offered. “Please, think no more of it.”
“If you say so,” Rainbow Dash said, shrugging. “Just let me know, huh?”
“Ooh, you know what I know?” Pinkie asked, bouncing back over from the chest with Monopoly: Utopia Edition on her head. “The travelling circus is going to be lots of fun!”
“There’s a circus in town?” Rainbow Dash asked, her jaw dropping. “Why didn’t anypony tell me? Why didn’t I know that?”
“Because you don’t have an ear to the ground like I do, duh!” Pinkie giggled, flopping her own ears. “I guess it also helps that I know Tipsy who runs the thing. They’re coming by on Monday, it’ll be a riot!”
“Monday, huh?” Rarity asked, arching a brow. It was a little too convenient. Last time she’d spent a day with her, Pinkie had suffered through what some would call Rarity’s world, even if the unicorn herself wasn’t quite convinced of that fact. It was no surprise that Pinkie Pie would want to do something she considered fun the next time. If there was a circus in town, she would no doubt want to head there.
Now, with their little outing on Monday thus revealed, she found herself a little disappointed. Up until now, she hadn’t the faintest clue what to expect, and perhaps that was part of the excitement. Still, while the circus was hardly a standard pastime fare for her, she had found enjoyment in far odder things when in the company of a good friend. Rarity shrugged and lit up her horn, helping Pinkie Pie unpack the game box.
“I would like to be the hat,” she declared.
Monday rolled around with painful slowness, and passed by slower still. Rarity spent most of the day pacing the store, far too restless to do anything creative. Merely making sure she didn’t send a customer off wearing one of her tablecloths draped across their backs was an effort. An odd and silly sort of excitement had built up in her over the past day, and even the trek all the way over to Sweet Apple Acres to catch up with Applejack during her break hour could not burn off the excess energy. It was almost enough to make a mare do something physical besides aerobics, and to be cooped up in her boutique all day today had certainly not improved on matters.
Finally, the moment came to close the shop. Rarity flipped the “Open” sign around and trotted back inside, only to freeze on the spot with an entirely fresh terror on her mind.
“What in the wide world of Equestria does one wear to a circus?” Rarity asked the rows of dresses ready for sale.
“What?” Sweetie Belle squeaked in reply, the little filly pausing mid-trot on her way across the room.
“It’s a rather simple question, Sweetie, but honestly, did anypony ever sit down to make a convention on this? What is proper circus attire?” Rarity added, rolling her jaw.
“Is there a circus?” Sweetie Belle asked.
“I mean, you would think that if there was some sort of standard, I would know of it. Had I sold a hundred similar dresses, hats, or even—” she paused to shudder. “—sweatbands in preparation of this circus, well, I would have known. The natural look is usually acceptable, but—”
“Are you going to the circus?” Sweetie Belle repeated, eyes big.
“Yes! Yes, Sweetie Belle, I am going to the circus!” Rarity surrendered. “And I haven’t a clue how to go to the circus!”
“Ooh, ooh, can I come?”
Rarity paused for a second, mouth open. “Ah, I, well. I don’t think that would be appropriate.”
“That’s unfair! Why do you get to go to the circus with your friends—”
“It’s just me and Pinkie Pie! Honestly, Sweetie Belle, you can’t expect—”
“Why?”
Sweetie Belle’s whine had dropped from her voice in an instant, one of the little filly’s brows raised almost comically high. Why indeed was Pinkie bringing Rarity to the circus by herself, when the pink pony seemed to feed off all of her friends’ happiness just as much as she was fueled by pure sugar.
“That is, I, hm,” Rarity began, treading water while searching for an answer for herself more than for her sister.
“We’re going to the circus?” Pinkie Pie asked. Rarity’s heart nearly stopped when the for-once-deceptively-stealthy earth mare trotted inside the boutique. She hadn’t even heard the door open.
“That is to say—wait. We are not going to the circus?” Rarity asked, blinking. Sweetie Belle deflated an inch while Pinkie Pie merely giggled, bouncing over to bump noses with Rarity.
“Maybe later? First, I wanted to show you something, remember?” Pinkie asked. She tilted her head a good ninety degrees, giggling. “You do remember, don’t you? I was all ‘I need to repay you for repaying me for—’”
“Yes, yes, I do remember,” Rarity cut her off. “I simply assumed, what with the circus being in town and all...”
“You shouldn’t assume. That makes you look really silly!” Pinkie said. “Hi Sweetie Belle!”
“Um. Hi,” Sweetie replied, the filly’s voice full of suspicion. “Where are you guys going?”
“Still a secret!” Pinkie beamed, looking like she took pure pride in that fact. Without any further explanation, the pink mare made her way out through the still open door.
“Well,” Rarity concluded, pinning her sister with a look. “I would appreciate if the boutique still stood when I got back home. If you’re having the Crusaders over, you keep it to your room, you hear?”
At that, Sweetie brightened, snapping a sharp mock salute. Rarity followed the snippet of pink tail outside, joining with a Pinkie who had abandoned her bouncy gait in favor of a slow walk.
“Why would you think we were going to the circus?” Pinkie asked when they walked side by side. Ponies milled all around them, Ponyville’s inhabitants heading home from work or out to eat.
“Well, I thought that since you had to endure that farce of a dinner, you might want to do something you found fun, for once,” Rarity said with a shrug.
“Oh. But you just wanted us to go out to eat something, you didn’t mean for that to happen,” Pinkie retorted, perking an ear.
“When you say it like that, it almost sounds logical,” Rarity agreed, smiling.
“It’s a great idea though! We should all head to the circus sometime soon!” Pinkie declared, grinning. “I know Rainbow Dash would love to go, and Applejack, too! And when we’re four, there’s no way Fluttershy and Twilight aren’t coming along too. We are four, aren’t we? You’re coming too, right?”
“Oh, of course. Sweetie Belle would be ever so disappointed if she didn’t get to come, too, so I suppose we will have to take the three little fillies too,” Rarity nodded, though her face soon set in a frown. They hadn’t gone far, but already their surroundings were very familiar. Pinkie Pie was beelining for Sugarcube Corner.
“Did you forget something?” Rarity asked.
Pinkie gave her a quizzical look, nudging the door open whilst looking back at her.
“I just assume you forgot something at home? Is that why we are here?” Rarity clarified, but Pinkie Pie merely smiled back at her.
“Nopey!” she said, holding the door open. “This way. Oh, hi again Mr. Cake!”
Rarity reluctantly followed her confusing friend inside, offering Mr. Cake at the counter a smile and a nod before making for the stairs. Pinkie waited for her at the top of the first flight, leading the way up and up in silence. From the ground floor, past the first floor with the Cakes’ living room and bedrooms, past the second floor gallery and guest rooms, and up yet again until they stood at a small landing with an anonymous wooden door.
It reminded her a little of her own loft. Was Pinkie taking her scavenging for antiques and such? She wouldn’t put it past her to have an interest in positively archaeological endeavours like that, but at the same time, this wasn’t some dusty old attic; a lamp provided decent light, and the place was clean enough. Any further ponderings over this mystery were cut short as Pinkie opened the door without fanfare, a practiced nudge revealing the next room.
It was a bedroom; a simple bedchamber a fair bit smaller than her own. Pinkie wasted no time in trotting inside, and Rarity followed on a combination of sheer automatics and curiosity. A large, comfortable-looking bed buried in pillows dominated the far wall, and a single small window was set above.
The rest was equally mundane. A muted pink cabinet stood ajar, nearly bursting with clothes, and a set of drawers stood nearby, atop which rested a large rock. Aside from the arguably-decorative rock, the only other adornments were two pictures on the nightstand. Rarity recognized one as the same picture of the group of friends that all six of them had, a memory from not long after Twilight had come to Ponyville.
It was obvious, in hindsight, but still Rarity couldn’t hold back her surprise as she spoke up.
“This is... your room?” Rarity asked.
“Yep!” Pinkie replied. “And that’s my Stonard the pet rock. I’m watching him for my sisters,” she added, indicating the faintly glittering rock before hopping onto her bed. “Come on!”
Rarity blinked, pausing in the middle of the room with her ears perked up. Pinkie Pie tossed pillows aside until the bed was pillow-free and bit onto the blanket, holding it up.
“Pardon?”
Pinkie tilted her head. “Pardon who for what?”
“I’m not quite sure what you are asking me to do, that’s all,” Rarity retorted, clearing her throat and rubbing one foreleg with the other as she glanced about. No sooner had she finished her sentence than she felt a set of hooves grab on to her and whisk her away. Rarity cried out in protest, but within seconds, darting out like some pink trapdoor spider, Pinkie dragged, poked and prodded her onto her bed and pulled the blanket over them.
“Pinkie Pie, what exactly is the meaning—”
“Shh,” Pinkie said, an utterance Rarity scarcely had believed her friend capable of ever making.
Rarity gave her friend a mighty frown, twisting around to protest, but Pinkie wasn’t even looking at her. Pinkie lay completely still on her back, looking up at the blanket—the ceiling of their tiny, soft world. Light was filtering through the shockingly pink blanket, but that was all there was to see. Despite this, Pinkie was smiling, a mellow and calm smile that seemed oddly out of place on her even if she was the first one to grin or laugh. When she spoke, she sounded almost sedated, the usual tumble of words slowed down a smidgen.
“Sometimes it’s all so much,” Pinkie said. “It’s great, but it’s so much.”
Rarity deflated, shoving her protests at the pony-handling aside for a moment, instead propping her head up on a leg where she lay. “You’re going to have to be a little more specific, dear. What is?”
“Everything,” Pinkie said. “I heard you talking to Rainbow Dash about taking a break. I was going to take you to Brain Freeze’s ice cream bar, but then I thought, hey, I have a better idea! Let’s take a break,” she said with a quiet little giggle.
“Usually, I just take a bath. Hot water and cold fizzy cider, perhaps a good book,” Rarity murmured, reaching out with her free leg to poke at the blanket seeking a way out.
“I get distracted when I try that. I love taking baths, but there’s so much there, too. So much... everything. There’s always ponies or Gummy, sounds or smells or things to see. Even just some really neat wallpaper or some pretty paint, that can be so huge, sometimes.” Pinkie prodded the curly bangs of her own mane as she spoke, casting a glance over at Rarity. The pink mare’s smile slipped for a second, her voice perking up in contrast. “We can probably go get ice cream sundaes if you want to though!”
Rarity stayed her hoof, pausing her excavation efforts.
She was in Pinkie Pie’s room. Though she wasn’t quite as close with her as Rainbow Dash was, at least not until recently, she had to wonder how many ponies had ever been here. How many had bothered to ask themselves what Pinkie Pie did when she wasn’t putting on a show, a party or a play of some sort? She had a beautiful heart, and Rarity’s cheeks prickled ever so slightly as she let herself think so; it was impossible to tell what Pinkie Pie had meant by sharing this, whether it was a gesture of closeness or whimsy, but she wasn’t about to squander it.
“No,” Rarity said, shifting a bit until she, too, lay on her back. The room wasn’t especially hot, but she felt pleasantly warm all the same. “No, this is fine, but next time, I insist on getting us some proper food, though I suspect most of Ponyville’s restaurants feel slighted by me at the moment,” she added, sure she spotted a ghost of a wider smile in the corner of her eye.
“You don’t have to thank me for thanking you for, um, oh wowsie. I lost track,” Pinkie giggled.
“Yes, we do seem to be stuck in a bit of a pattern,” Rarity murmured. The words hung in the air between them for either to comment on, to protest or poke holes in, but for the longest time, neither of them spoke. Outside of the blanket waited a deceptively simple room, but in here, Rarity had Pinkie with her; enough life to fill all of Canterlot with laughter. Leaving was the furthest thing from her mind.
“Now, this isn’t a goodbye,” Rarity said. “Because I’m afraid you’ll have to chase me out of here when you want me gone, but are you busy tomorrow? And do you like pasta salad with, say, feta cheese?”
“Alright, now where’s the feta?” Rarity asked, boring a hole in her cheek with her tongue as she scanned the fridge. Carrots, celery, and absolutely everything a pony could want—except the jar of feta cheese she was sure she’d seen. In fact, she had checked twice yesterday, and when she found she couldn’t sleep, she’d triple-checked to make sure she had everything.
“You put it on the bench two minutes ago,” Sweetie Belle replied. The little filly sat on the floor watching Rarity busy herself around the kitchen.
“Oh,” Rarity said, eyeing the conspicuously present jar. “Well. If you’re going to be all snarky and such, why don’t you help me here instead? We need to cook—”
The doorbell rang. Rarity groaned and closed her eyes. “Actually, be a dear and go see who that is. And tell them that we closed an hour ago!” she added a little louder as her sister bolted out of the kitchen.
The table was set, three plates in perfect symmetry around the small dinner table. One for Sweetie Belle, one for herself, and one for Pinkie Pie. That had been the easy part. The particular salad she’d chosen was, sadly, a little more complicated than her usual fare. Rarity stared at the ingredients for the Clopenhagen style pasta salad, ruminating that she’d gotten no further than washing the lettuce before spending ten minutes contemplating how she’d make it look exactly like the picture in her cookbook.
“Ooh, smells delicious!” Pinkie Pie commented.
Rarity whipped around to find Pinkie Pie standing in the kitchen doorway, Sweetie Belle slipping in after her. The earth mare was smiling as she sniffed the air. More notably, she was dressed up, wearing one very specific dress. White and pink silk in dominance, bordered by yellow and blue, and as much as she took pride in her own hoofwork, Rarity found that it was entirely secondary to the pure contentment of seeing Pinkie wear something she’d made. With her customers, she found the satisfaction of a job well done, of fabulosity imparted. Here, there was an indeterminable something else that tickled the back of her mind just so.
“You’re early,” was all Rarity said on the subject, though she smiled still. “And I should think it smells nothing, I have barely started.”
“I guess you’re just that good!” Pinkie retorted, giggling as she trotted closer. “Or maybe it’s you?”
“I am a terrible cook, I am sad to say,” Rarity murmured, accepting a brief hug around the neck that left a lingering warmth. “Almost as terrible as you are at flattery.”
“Well, then I just have to help you! I’m best at things with sugar in them, but I’m sure we can figure a little pasta out. Worst case scenario, your kitchen catches fire and I get to see Long Hose and all the other ponies at the fire department again!” Pinkie declared. “Where do you have the spoons?”
Rarity frowned and looked for any indication that Pinkie had made a joke, eventually settling for a shrug. “Well, I’d be glad for the help, but—ah, are you going to be making food in that dress?”
“Sure!” Pinkie said, tilting her head. “Is that a problem?”
“No, hm. I suppose it is washable,” Rarity agreed, finding that she very much did not want to be the cause of Pinkie Pie changing out of it.
“Oh ew, the recipe has garlic!” Pinkie said, her face scrunched up as she stared at the pages of the cookbook Rarity had spread out on the long kitchen bench. “I really really don’t like garlic. It tastes like sweaty flank!”
“Well, it’s the Clopenhagen style—” Rarity began, her brow furrowed at the use of language. She cast an automatic glance at Sweetie Belle.
“How about peaches instead?” Pinkie suggested, prancing over to the refrigerator. “Do you have any peaches?”
“I do,” Rarity said, leaning around the fridge door to look alongside Pinkie Pie. “If my memory serves correct, we could add olives and remove the grapes. That should make for a Manehatten variant, ah, what’s it called—”
“Aw no, no way, I love grapes!” Pinkie complained, diving into the fridge until Rarity half-feared even her tail would disappear. A moment later, she surfaced with a trio of peaches on her head and a glass of black olives in her mouth. “Lefh’ do bof’!”
“But we have to follow the recipe,” Rarity protested. Pinkie Pie danced around her, depositing the ingredients on the bench before rummaging around the other cupboards.
“Says who?” Pinkie asked. “Where do you have the kettles?”
“Says the recipe!” Rarity claimed.
“By the oven,” Sweetie Belle interjected, the little filly watching them with a huge smile on her face. Pinkie Pie hopped around to land facing her.
“More help! Why don’t you cut all the grapes in half, can you do that for me?” Pinkie asked.
“Okay!” Sweetie replied, setting to her task with a grin of delight, the words “Cutie Mark Crusaders pasta maker” whispered under her breath.
“Recipe?” Pinkie asked while filling a kettle with water. “You should help me with the pasta instead!”
“Thank you for dinner,” Sweetie Belle said, licking her lips contentedly. After a quick glance over at her sister, the grabbed her napkin from the table and wiped her muzzle, earning a smile.
“And thank you for helping make it!” Pinkie declared, reaching over to grab her in a hug and give her a gentle noogie. Sweetie Belle giggled and scampered off, leaving Rarity and Pinkie Pie alone in the kitchen, and silence settled shortly after.
Rarity stared at the last mouthful of pasta on her platter, easing her fork down to the table. Decorum demanded she leave it, and so she did, letting her eyes wander instead. The kitchen was a mess, and so was Pinkie Pie’s dress. The dress that Rarity had made for her. The more she thought on it, the more she wondered if she didn’t appreciate her wearing it because it let her believe Pinkie Pie was hers, too.
“You gonna eat that?” Pinkie asked.
“No, please, go ahead,” Rarity replied, leaning back as Pinkie’s head snapped forward to gobble up the last of the food on table, chewing noisily. After she’d swallowed, Pinkie paused, glanced at Rarity, and wiped her muzzle with the napkin at her plate’s side. They both shared a brief giggle that petered out into nothingness, the room bathed in fading sunlight and the pleasant afterglow of a good meal.
“Thanks for the food. It was delicious!” Pinkie declared, though she made no move. Rarity remained quite still herself, reluctant to let the moment end.
“Oh that’s nonsense, this was more your doing than mine, so I can only say as my sister; thank you for dinner.”
“Aw, thanks and you’re welcome!” Pinkie chirped, scratching at her chest. “Did you like it?” she added, a little more quiet.
“That would be an understatement,” Rarity hummed. “I honestly had my mind set on that one salad, but this was far better than anything any recipe could have offered.”
“Recipies are silly sometimes,” Pinkie said, smiling brightly. “They’re just suggestions. If you think they’re what you’re after, that’s super-fantastic, but sometimes they’re not what you want after all.”
Rarity took a deep breath and slowly released it. “Don’t I know that,” she murmured, once again remembering the grand galloping gala. The shadow of an unimportant white unicorn was fading still; proof of how expectations could sometimes lead one astray.
In its stead, something else had grown. Months of frustrations and over a year of annoyance had been wiped away by a set of far more pleasant moments. Events and evenings that were already well underway to becoming treasured memories, all given one single common trait. All linked by the presence of a single pony. Part of Rarity wanted to ask Pinkie what she was doing next week, to ensure that there would be more of these days.
Pinkie wasn’t going anywhere, yet Rarity found herself unsettled by the idea that she should ever go without her. There was no denying it. She looked across the table, and her breath came a little faster.
Pinkie Pie was looking back at her, smiling, and it was all Rarity could think that Pinkie must’ve had something in the food. Some of her energy. Some of her impulsiveness must have snuck into the pasta, and it made Rarity speak.
“Pinkie Pie?” she heard herself say. “We’ve spent quite a lot of time together lately. We’ve, ah, ‘hung out’ a lot, as you would say.”
“I would totally say exactly that. Oh wow, you’re good at me!” Pinkie agreed.
“Please don’t think less of me if this is unwelcome, but what would you say if I asked you out?” Rarity’s voice continued, the unicorn scarcely daring to breathe.
Pinkie stuck her tongue out of the side of her mouth and furrowed her brow, but the silence lasted no more than a second or two before she broke out into a high-pitched laughter, a giggle rolling forth to go on and on. When finally her mirth was spent, her big blue eyes shone with wet.
“Like a date?” she asked between chortles, grinning widely.
Rarity felt her face flush and cleared her throat, the laughter still echoing in her head. She got up, her throat suddenly dry. “Yes, that was my intent. Maybe I’ve made a mistake—”
“I thought we’d been dating for weeks now!” Pinkie said, smiling still as she leaned forward to prop her head up on the table with a foreleg.
Rarity’s jaw hung slack and her heart raced, but all the while, Pinkie Pie did not move so much as an inch.
And then, sometimes, things fell into place by themselves, heedless of expectations. Sometimes, a pattern came into being of its own. Rarity bit her lower lip as every event of the past weeks crept by, and she found that even if she could protest, she had no desire to do so.
“I suppose, if you, ah. That isn’t a no, I understand?” she asked.
Pinkie Pie leaned across the table, locking their muzzles in a kiss.