Out of breath, Fancy Pants managed to catch up to his lithe wife, the model giving him a satisfied look that made the stallion regret asking her to hurry up in the first place. The two upper class unicorns had stopped in front of the porch of a charming building, the rustic design reminiscent of Western architecture found in the old colonies throughout the desert lands. The structure had been polished and decorated to match the aristocratic dignity of its fellow neighborhood, yet retained a warm quality about it that could only be described as ‘home’. A large sign with intricate calligraphy was firmly adorned above the porch, revealing the title of ‘Sweet Boutique’ to all of Canterlot. The couple made their way up the porch, the doorknob turning in cue as it glowed a light shade of blue to match the aura radiating from Fancy Pant’s ignited horn. The magic pulled the door open, fading away as the two unicorns walked into the shop, their ears pinned back instinctively as their subconscious prepared them for the welcoming they had become accustomed to in this particular shop. Flinching, the noble couple shut their eyes and braced themselves. One second of silence passed, and fifteen more followed in its wake before they opened their eyes, taking in the full sight of Sweet Boutique. The décor that lined the store was similar to its predecessor in Ponyville as far as its fashion sense was concerned; yet despite the familiarity it held to its past incarnation, there were three distinct features that made the Sweet Boutique of Canterlot very different from the Carousel Boutique of Ponyville. The first- though presently absent as Fancy Pants and Fleur had discovered, difference was the ‘warm’ welcoming every customer received upon entrance to the fine establishment. The second was the addition of male ponyquins and the third a window case display of various sweets and pastries available for purchase, each styled beautifully and crafted as if they had been prepared for the royal family themselves.
“Mr. Fancy Pants, Mrs. Fleur. A pleasure to see the two of you,” A sweet, refined, and most surprisingly soft voice greeted the couple. Caught off guard, Fancy Pants and Fleur directed their attention towards toward the display case, a sheepish grin on each of their faces revealing the mutual embarrassment they felt for not seeing their greeter. Behind the counter, an Earth pony filly sat upon a tall stool, her very pale yellow forelegs resting on the seat in front of her as she attempted to balance herself. Fancy Pants couldn’t help but smile at her appearance, which seemed to be as imbalanced as she was on the stool. Her mane, streaked with contrasting light and dark tones of periwinkle, had been curled in the front into a pompadour bun, the odd hair or two escaping its clutch in defiance for her mother's attempt to tame them. The rest of her mane ran wild from where Rarity had simply given up and pinched it in a ponytail, skipping down her back in a chaotic fashion that matched her tail. Vibrant green eyes looked toward the two incomers with patience and a kind smile.
“Pure Connoisseur, the pleasure is ours,” Fancy Pants responded with a small bow, feeling guilty about his earlier overlook. Fleur de Lis shared neither her husband’s formality nor his pretenses, instead choosing to be direct.
“Connie, dear,” She said warmly, her voice honeyed as if to coax an infant rabbit from the safety of its home. “It’s just us here. There’s no need to pretend, sweetheart.”
Pure Connoisseur’s eyes traced the room, confirming for herself that the model’s statement was correct.
“Thank the princesses themselves!” She sighed, her voice now sharp and grating with a heavy Southwest accent. She leapt down from her perch, trotting casually around the counter and approaching the boutique’s present customers before giving them a small bow. “Aye’ll admit, Aye’m glad it’s ya’ll and not Upper Crust and Jet Set. They always put Mama through the ringer when they get commissions here! T’aint fair on her and it sure don’t make Daddy happy ta’ see her treated that way.”
“Where are your parents, Connie?” Fleur inquired, curious as to why such a young filly was allowed to run the store by herself.
“Mama’s workin’ on the commissions of some clients who want ‘em up an’ runnin’ by the Grand Galloping Gala,” She explained casually, her body turning as she motioned for Fleur and Fancy Pants to follow her. “And Daddy’s bakin’ some muffins ta’ restock the ones we sold out today. He was runnin’ the front, but left me ta’ greet ponies while he went ta’ make sure they don’t burn. C’mon, Ah’m sure he’d like the surprise visit. You can even see what we put in our goods ta’ make the finest treats in Canterlot.”
“They must be the best if you think so, dear,” Fleur said sincerely, satisfied with the filly’s honest answer but still slightly annoyed that her parents, no matter how overworked, left her alone in the front. The unicorns followed Connie’s lead, the Earth filly pushing past two hinged doors, obviously installed by Rarity to fit the slight Western theme the store held.
“Daddy, lookit who came ta’ visit!” Connie hollered, her volume louder than necessary for her voice to be carried throughout the kitchen, forcing her company to pin their ears back in minor irritation at the noise. Despite her best efforts, her intended target for the receiving end of her message was preoccupied, the only evidence of his existence being a golden rump protruding from the oven’s open door, a large red apple tattooed on his flank and a wild amber tail with two tones swishing as he fiddled around. The stallion pulled his front half from the cooking appliance, a mitt between his teeth to protect his mouth from the fiery steel of the muffin tray. His mane bobbed as he set the tray on the counter, green eyes that matched the filly’s focusing on her.
“Ah’m sorry, my little sugarplum,” The stallion apologized. “Ah couldn’t hear ya’ on account that Ah was checkin’ the consistency of these here muffins, and takin’ ‘em out once Ah figured they were done bakin’. What did ya’ need, sweetie? Did somepony show-“
He paused, noticing his present- and very prestigious company.
“-Up.”
“No need to apologize, Braeburn. You were simply doing your part in running this fine establishment,” Fancy Pants chuckled, amused to have caught the baker in a precarious and unflattering position. Fleur did not let on to be as amused, though the red tinge on her cheeks left an indication that she was even more entertained than her husband by Braeburn’s revealing position. “And I can see that your daughter was true to her words,” The noble unicorn continued. “I trust that she wasn’t left unattended in the front for long?”
“Oh my stars, no!” Braeburn cried out, flushing a bit when he realized he had given the impression of a neglectful parent in the presence of such company. Calming down, he composed himself before explaining, a hoof raised delicately to his chin as he carefully answered Fancy Pants' question. “She couldn’t have been out there for more than a minute or two. Why, it was just luck ya’ll happened ta’ come by just as I went to take out the muffins. But enough of me runnin’ my mouth. Ya’ll were here ta’ pick up a dress from Rarity, right?”
“That would be correct,” Fleur answered, the sharpness in her tone causing her host to shirk back in slight fear. “And I believe my husband wishes to harass your wife on the prediction of Rainbow Blitz’s performance today. Word on the street is he will be the youngest pony ever to successfully perform the Sonic Rainboom.”
“The word is right, but Mama wouldn’t know ponyfeathers about it,” Pure Connoisseur spoke up, an eyebrow raised in the slightest satisfaction that she knew better than the public gossip chain. She revelled in the attention all three adults were giving her for a few moments before continuing. “But just because that colt has the ability to do it don’t mean he’s ready. His mama had ta’ save my mama before she could break the barrier at will. Ah don’t even think Blitz knows he can do it yet.”
Fleur and Fancy Pants blinked, their eyes drifting toward the other as they both wondered the same thing.
“If you don’t mind my asking, how do you know he can do it when he doesn’t know?” The fashion model finally spoke up.
“Ah have a very reliable magical source that learned not too long ago how ta’ measure how good a pony is at doin’ somethin’. And if my source is right, Blitzy can do it. But,” Connie sighed, ears drooping slightly as she delivered the last bit of information. “He needs the right motivation ta’ do it. Ain’t gonna happen outta nowhere in front of the crowd! Ah just hope that boy puts on a good show that everypony will enjoy- Sonic Rainboom or not. Poor little sugarcube would be crushed if’n he got rejected at somethin’ he loved so much.”
“Ah, so I suppose that tidbit settles the rumor about Rainbow Blitz being forced into stunt flying,” Fancy Pants said with a slight blush, embarrassed to admit that he had let the Canterlot gossip chain have any significant effect on his own hypotheses.
“Forced?” The Earth filly scoffed. “That boy's practically aglow when he’s flyin’. He’s just a might more modest about it than his mama was- but all the same there’s that much more pressure on him for him ta’ succeed. It ain’t just the crowd he thinks he’s gotta please. Can’t be easy thinkin’ ya’ might let your parents down.”
“Rainbow Blitz’s parents will love him no matter what- success or failure,” Fleur said reassuringly- if only to ease her own empathetic guilt for the colt’s situation. “Now then, what, or rather who is this magical source you speak of?”
Both Earth ponies flinched, though Connie’s pleading eyes prompted her father to take the lead and explain. “Ah’m afraid we aren’t at liberty ta’ discuss that. Princess Luna’s orders.”
Before the two unicorns could inquire further, the kitchen doors burst forward, an alabaster unicorn with beautifully styled purple locks joining them, an elegant gown consisting of mellow shades of lavender that blended to bring out the eyes of its intended client within the clutches of her indigo magic. Her eyes lit up at the company, clearly betraying the excitement she felt at their well-timed visit.
“Fleur! Fancy Pants! Oh how delightful for you both to drop by!” Rarity squealed, embracing them both with a light hug. She turned her attention to Fleur, cerulean eyes glowing with the desire for approval directing the fashion model towards the floating gown. “Now don’t you hesitate to ask for any adjustments, Fleur! This is your dress and should be exactly how you want it!”
“Don’t you change a thing about it, Rarity. It’s perfect,” Fleur said, knowing all too well the other unicorn’s taste in fashion was far superior to her own. After all, she only wore the clothes; she didn’t design them.
“Oh you flatter me, darling, but I am far from perfect. I insist- if there is anything you want changed please tell me.”
“Rarity, we wouldn’t change a thing about this dress knowing you put your heart and soul into it,” Fancy Pants echoed his wife, ending any further discussion on the matter. “Now then,” He continued, delivering a small, respectful bow as he spoke. “Would the three of you care to join us in our private box for the Wonderbolts airshow today? I’m sure you would have the opportunity to reunite with Rainbow Dash after the show.”
“Oh that would be simply marvelous,” The dramatic unicorn squealed before calming down, delivering a small, sad sigh. “It’s been weeks since I’ve had the chance to chat with her- with any of my Ponyville friends really. The last time was at our pretend book club.”
“Well then, I shall have to invite them as well,” Fancy Pants offered, a smirk appearing on his muzzle as his tailor friend all but fainted into the waiting forelegs of her unsurprised husband. Rarity drew several sharp, long breaths, doing her best to collect herself as she rested against Braeburn’s embrace. Knowing his wife would be out of commission for a good minute or so, the stallion decided to answer for her.
“Ah think she’s sayin’ thank ya’ very kindly. Ah guess there’s nothin’ left ta’ do but call ‘em.”