//------------------------------//
// Secrets, lies, and a pegasus in the sky 
// Story: The Cutie Mark Allocation Agency 
// by Hoopy McGee 
//------------------------------//

  A rustling from the hallway broke Clari's concentration. She looked up from the carefully-written spreadsheet with a frown on her face, and made her way towards the storeroom door. When she poked her head out into the hallway, she was amazed to see a familiar, if somewhat flushed and sweaty, face, apparently frantic as he pulled out and looked at box after box stacked in the hallway. 

"Counselor Tiddwiddle?" Clari said, and the gnome shrieked and jumped. Clari stared, mouth hanging open, while the older gnome leaned against the wall, gasping for breath and pressing a hand to his chest. 

"Don't do that!" Counselor Tiddwiddle exclaimed. "You nearly scared the britches off of me!" 

"Sorry, sir! I didn't mean to startle you. Only... is there something I can help you with?" 

"No! Wait! Yes! Why are these boxes all out in the hallway?" 

"Oh, well," Clari said, smiling. "See, I've been given the task of sorting through and indexing all of the old files. And, since there was really no order at all, I thought it would be easier if I just started by clearing out the old and putting everything in with a new system!" 

She beamed at the older gnome, who stared back at her as if she were spouting gibberish. Clari's smile slowly faded, and then she said, "Um, anyway. What can I help you with?" 

"I'm just... I'm looking for a particular file, that's all." 

"Oh? I could help you look, if you like." 

"No!" Tidd yelped, eyes bulging. "I mean... No. Thank you. I don't want to waste your time looking for something so silly. Hah hah ha ha!" 

Clari regarded the grinning gnome in front of her with some confusion. Why would a Counselor, one of the highest ranking members of the CMAA, come down to the archive, of all places, looking for a file? Why not send one of his assistants? Why did he look like he was forcing a smile? Why was his left eye twitching like that?

"Um. Well, if you know what box number it was in, or a date range, I could probably help you find it," Clari offered weakly. 

"No! That's alright, really. I'll find it on my own, ha ha." 

"You're sure? Because there's over four hundred boxes out here. It might take you a while. Even if you just have a date range, I could help." 

"There is no date range," Tiddwaddle said. Then his eyes widened. "I mean! No! That's not what I meant! I meant that I don't know the date range! But I'll know the box when I see it! Please, just... go on about your work!" 

"All right," Clari said doubtfully, and slowly eased her way back inside the room. For the next two hours, she tried to ignore the counselor as he rustled around in the hallway, moving boxes around and occasionally cursing under his breath. Finally, she went out into the hallway for yet another new box and noticed that he was gone. 

And so was a single box, the gap in the row like a missing tooth on the smile of a foal. 

Why would he take a whole box if he only needed a file? Clari wondered. 


~~*~~


"What is it now?" 

"Sixty-five percent." 

"Okay." 

A few more minutes passed, and then the younger gnome said, "What's it at now?" 

"Sixty-four percent." 

"Aww, it's gone backwards!" 

"It does that sometimes, kid," Glumm said, gritting his teeth. Tinseltoes had been asking about the epiphany percentage every few minutes for the last two hours, and it was really starting to get to him. If it hadn't been a breach of protocol, he'd have given the trainee his earpiece, so that Tinseltoes could get the updates himself and just leave him alone. 

"Look, kid," Glumm said, watching as Sweetie Belle swept the front steps of her sister's Carousel Boutique, "I hate to break it to you, but this is the job. Most of it, at least." 

"Really? Just... sitting around and waiting like this?" 

"You got it. It's only ever exciting after a colt or filly hits 85% or more. Otherwise, we're just on standby, in case something happens." 

"Oh." 

"You learn to like it, kid. The peace and quiet is relaxing." 

"I suppose," Tinseltoes said glumly. 

"Sorry, kid. The sad truth is that this job is usually pretty boring." 

Tinseltoes was about to reply, but just then some excitement actually did happen, in the form of an excitable pegasus filly running up to talk to Sweetie Belle. 

"Guess what? Guess what?" the pegasus said, her wings buzzing so excitedly that she actually managed to get a foot or so off the ground. 

"What?" Sweetie Belle asked, dropping the broom she'd been using. 

"Remember how Rainbow Dash said she'd take me under her wing? And, remember how she said that she'd show me some cool moves?" 

"Uh-huh?" said Sweetie Belle expectantly. 

"Oh, no..." said Glummwriggle, clearly alarmed. 

"Well, she promised that she's going to start out with a Sonic Rainboom!" 

"By the Gnome King's wooly beard!" Glummwriggle exclaimed, unheard by the two fillies. 

"Oooh, neat! Where?" Sweetie Belle asked.

"South of Ponyville, in about ten minutes!" Scootaloo said, grinning hugely. "Want to come and watch?" 

"Oh, yes! Let me just tell Rarity..." 

The two fillies went inside, chattering excitedly. Glumm cursed loudly, and immediately began trying to raise Control. Tinseltoes, feeling more than a little confused, asked, "What's the problem, Uncle Glumm?" 

Glumm held up a finger for silence and spoke urgently into his headset. "Control, do you copy? We have a confirmed Rainbow Dash event! ETA, approximately ten minutes, location, somewhere south of Ponyville. She's using the Rainboom! Repeat, she's using the Rainboom!" 


~~*~~


"I have no idea what you're talking about," Tiddwiddle said, shifting uncomfortably in his seat. "I didn't take any box." 

Claribelle frowned and thrust a clipboard under his nose. "Four hundred and seventeen boxes were removed from the storeroom, sir. I only counted Four hundred and sixteen after you left. One box is missing." 

"Well, you miscounted, then." the gnome said, pretending to focus on the piles of paperwork on his desk. "I have lots of work to do, so if you'll excuse—" 

"No, sir, I did not 'miscount' the boxes. I added a serial number to every single box down there, and wrote them down on my spreadsheet with the listed date ranges. The box itself that's missing is one that didn't have a date range on it. I made a special note of it, see?" 

Clari tapped the line in question. Tiddwiddle, currently enjoying a nice, cold sweat, didn't bother looking at the clipboard. 

"Maybe some other gnome took it, then," he said, blindly signing several papers, many of which didn't require signatures at all. His hands were trembling so much that his ordinarily smooth signature came out as an illegible scrawl. He was prepared to wait out the impertinent gnomette, no matter how long it took. 

What he wasn't prepared for was for that same gnomette to slap her hands palms-down on his desk, making him jump. He shrank back in his chair as she leaned over him and said, "Look. You took the box. You know it. I know it. And I will find out why." 

Tiddwiddle spluttered incredulously at the gnomette's audacity. "My dear, you're at least a dozen grade levels below me! You have no idea—" 

"What I am," Clari said firmly, "is the only employee working in the Records Department. And, while it's also true that I'm currently quite a bit beneath you in seniority, being the sole employee for Records makes me a Department Head. It's true, I looked it up before I came here. Which means that, even though I'm a relatively low rank, I can go directly to Chief Tallywaddle if I feel the need to. You don't want that, do you? Let's just give me the box back so I can do my job." 

Tiddwiddle's mouth hung open uselessly as he was pinned to his seat by the gimlet glare of the young gnomette. He was about to speak, to offer some reasonable explanation of some sort, when a loud klaxon made everygnome in the vicinity jump, followed shortly after by an announcement over the PA system. 

"Alert! Alert! We have a confirmed Rainbow Dash event! All Cutie Teams scramble! All Cutie Teams scramble! This is not a drill!"

"Ah!" Tiddwiddle said, never before having been so glad to have an emergency dropped in his lap. "Looks like I need to go take care of this. Protocol, you know." He heaved himself out of his chair and ushered the protesting gnomette out of his office. "Thank you so much for dropping by, I do hope that you find the box you've misplaced. Ta-ta, now!" 

Claribelle glared at him for a few seconds, then stomped off with a scowl on her face. Tiddwiddle watched her go. 

Something needs to be done about that girl, he thought darkly.