//------------------------------// // [Clever Title Here] // Story: Timed Ramblings // by Midnight herald //------------------------------// Rarity woke slowly as little fits and spurts of detail made their way into her muzzy head. She was lying in her bed, sheets pulled up to her chin, and somepony was singing in the downstairs. Her ears twitched and focused in on the sound ... Two ponies, singing a soft duet in familiar yet muffled voices. She finally worked up the resolve to open her crusty eyes and turned to look at her alarm clock... only to find it completely missing. She sat bolt upright and looked around - the curtains were shut tight and glowed with indirect sunlight, her bedroom door was shut tight, and she had no idea what time it was. Rarity scrambled out of her bed, barely remembering to straighten out the sheets as she rushed into the hallway and down the stairs. Today was an important day, one she couldn’t afford to waste with things like sleep. Today was the first day when she didn’t have deadlines hanging over her like a sword of Dam Oakleaves, the first day when she could finally get around to some long-overdue cleaning of the Boutique. Because as it turned out, making dresses for a Coronation meant a lot of publicity, a lot of notoriety. And it meant a lot of commissions from a lot of important ponies. And of course, Rarity couldn’t turn them down. Because as famous as she was starting to get, she was still a designer living in a place like Ponyville, hardly established as a label the rich would want to buy from. As much as her friends had spoken of her generosity in giving out her time to make these many orders, it wasn’t anything that noble that held back every polite “no” she wanted so desperately to give. Her reputation was at stake, and every late order, every offer she turned down could only take away from her potential base of customers, leaving her ruined before her career could really take off. Weeks had turned to months had turned to a season and more, her winter days spent hunched over a worktable or frantically going through the available laces in the local fabric store before rush-ordering from Canterlot or Fillydelphia in a total panic. And now, on the first day that her life was her own again, on the first day she could take care of the abysmal mess the backrooms had become, she didn’t know what time it was, and two unidentified singing ponies were in her home. Rarity rounded the corner into the kitchen and stared. Pinkie and Fluttershy were dusting off the cabinets together, their soft, beautiful voices winding together on some old folk-song Rarity had heard before but couldn’t name. She sighed with relief and jumped slightly at the speed that the other two turned around and met her eyes. “Did we wake you up?” Fluttershy asked, already developing her usual cringe. “No, not in the least, darling,” Rarity rasped, heading for the sink. She got herself a quick drink of water to clear out the worst of the phlegm caught in her throat before turning around again to face them. “But what are the two of you doing in here on such a fine day?” Of course, Rarity was just guessing at the weather. She hadn’t seen a schedule in ... longer than she cared to remember, and she hadn’t yet found a window to look through. “Well,” Pinkie began, “We thought since you’ve been so busy lately you needed your sleep, but we also remembered how important a clean house is to you, so we figured we’d get started and let you rest.” Rarity smiled at their thoughtfulness, but she couldn’t help but worry... the last time another pony had helped clean up.... “Don’t worry, Rarity, we didn’t touch your inspiration room,” Fluttershy soothed. Was Rarity really being that obvious? “Thank you, girls,” Rarity managed around the knot in her throat. Pinkie and Fluttershy had been nothing short of helpful over all this. All her friends had been supportive, of course, but Pinkie and Fluttershy... Rarity could distinctly remember seven different nights when Fluttershy’s skill with a needle and thread had saved her from being completely overwhelmed, and could vaguely recall at least ten more besides. And Pinkie had come by with fresh-cooked meals and friendly chatter and, it seemed, a tried-and-true babysitter’s skill for dragging her to bed and making her get a good five hours of sleep right when she was about to go off the wall. The two of them would occasionally kidnap her to the spa and put her through the works, all the while keeping her up to date on the regular gossip, just how she liked, even though she could hardly nod in the right places, her head too full of half-made dresses and frantically marked second drafts and all the things she should have been doing to really process the words coming out of their mouths. But however futile, every gesture they made was thoughtful and entirely necessary. The two of them had done everything they could to make sure she ate and slept at least a little, to make sure she had some friends to cry on whenever she really needed them, when she finally remembered how much of her life she was losing to work and obligation. The two of them would keep Sweetie Belle entertained and out of the way on the weekends she spent over, forgave Rarity when stress and artistic passions caused her to yell and stomp and scream and curse like a madmare. And now, after all they had already done... TIME LIMIT------ Rarity’s vision became blurry as hot tears prickled in her eyes, as she sank to the ground and began crying in earnest, letting out all the extra emotions and stress in loud wails and heaving sobs. She could feel two sets of warm legs and a comforting pair of wings around her, could hear soft, gentle reassurances at the edge of her hearing, but she couldn’t make out what they were saying, and she couldn’t stop crying. Her emotions were drowning her, crushing her, and it was all she could do to cry until they all finally left, left her panting and thirsty and shaking on the floor. “You girls are the best friends I could ever ask for,” she blubbered, pulling the two of them into a tight hug. She gulped down the water Fluttershy gave her and finally got a glance at the clock - 3:15 pm. She looked up at the two of them, their expressive eyes showing deep concern, and decided she had to do something for them in return. “Pinkie? Fluttershy? Would you like to have a late lunch?” she asked, getting back on her shaky legs and offering a small little smile. “I think we have...” she trailed off as she realized she had no idea what was in the pantry, that she hadn’t for weeks now. “...Regardless, I think I could whip something up for the three of us.” She put on a winning smile and waited for an answer. Pinkie looked towards Fluttershy with a voiceless question, and it hit her. The singing, the way they were always together, the extra bounce in Fluttershy’s steps, the unexpected gentleness with which Pinkie sang her to sleep, and now this look... How long had they been together? How much of her friends’ lives had she missed through all this work? Why did her chest feel so tight right now? Some of it was guilt, but the rest... perhaps it was jealousy, although she hadn’t felt that in a long while. And Fluttershy thought for a while, her face scrunched up adorably in thought. Rarity could feel her smile stretching thinner and thinner with each passing second, and PInkie would look over and see her and know, know what she was really feeling, would see the disgusting jealous mare that she was right now, would see her ugliness and then... And then Fluttershy gave a glorious little smile and nod. “Actually, Rarity, that sounds... nice,” she proclaimed. And all at once that tightness in her chest melted away, and she giddily pranced towards the icebox and rummaged around, and she knew that everything was alright again.