Sitting atop one of Ponyville’s tallest hills and plateaus, The Ponyville Train Station had two major lines for the two major types of trains that came through the small village. One was the traditional horse-drawn variety of track, which was far more basic and allowed for a train to be pulled off the tracks more easily in case of major obstructions. These types of trains were headed by up to eight large stallions and mares. The other major line was for the new models, which would be run on either a new type of fuel or run on the magic of unicorns. Because of Ponyville's vicinity to Canterlot, it had a state-of-the-art line that was fueled by unicorns. Outside of an initial whine of the magic capacitors, it was as quiet as a mouse to ride.
Following one such whine, the train for Canterlot left the station, having just finished dropping off its previous inhabitants – Families coming home from a visit, and what few Canterlot Elite who deigned to grace this town with their presence. One such elite sighed through her nose as she looked at the town below her. “I can't say I expected to come to Ponyville...” she said to herself, her golden aura surrounding her light baggage as she set foot towards Ponyville. “But my beloved fiance can’t be without his darling for too long...”
“Well howdy there, ma’am! Ain’t you as pretty as a pig in slop!” a local pony greeted, his turnip-stained flank weaving with his tail, which wagged like a dog in the presence of such beauty. “My name here is Turnip Truck, hee-yup! Ain’t you one ah them there Canterlot ponies?” Turnip asked, his one eye looking her up and down, while the other eye lazily kept staring into her own. “Shoot, you do look familiar, miss!”
Looking the pony up and down, there was something more about the trailer trash pony than she cared to admit. “Perhaps you might have seen some misplaced advertisement in a dirty magazine. I am told my fashions have shown up in less than gentlemanly magazines as of late.”
“Heh heh, ain’t you a joker, miss!” Turnip Truck chuckled, throwing a hoof around the unicorn in a sign of camaraderie. “The missus ain’t much for having them kinds of magazines in our home, and Ah expect Ah ain’t one to have my sons lookin’ at ‘em neither.” Turnip released the poor unicorn from his hug, and quickly trotted in front of her, outstretching a hoof towards his hometown. “Welp, S’much as Ah’d love ta welcome you into Ponyville, it ain’t much my job to do so. Pinkie’ll be with ya right quick, though, Ah reckon... Aw shoot, Ah ain’t even asked for your name yet.”
“That’s quite alright, Mr. Truck,” the proper pony said, trying desperately to clean off some invisible dirt from her coat that she believed the Earth pony might have left. How a pony like this Turnip Truck ever should have married, and by Celestia, mated was beyond her capacity. “My name is Fleur-De-Lis. And you can call off your welcome party, I don't believe I'll be in Ponyville long.”
“Oh? Y’all been here before? Hoowee, maybe that’s why ta look so familiar.” Turnip Truck put on a pleased smile as his tail began to wag again. Fleur moved to keep her distance. “So what brings you here, Mrs. De-Lis?”
“That’s Miss, Mr. Truck.” Fleur corrected, a sly smile creeping up on her features. “Although I pray not for long. I’m here on business.”
Turnip Truck nodded with a void expression on his face. Blinking, he looked toward Ponyville and then back to Fleur. “Well, business? What’s a big wig pony like you doin’ here in Ponyville on business for?"
-----
Morning came as any other for the librarian of Ponyville, which is to say, very late. While the studious unicorn had nothing but schedules, she often would scribe them for her afternoons and evenings – as any number higher than seven followed by ‘A.M.’ would be strictly scheduled in as ‘sleepytime.’ It once was scheduled in as ‘nap time’ but eventually that had to become a Spike-only term. There were, however, exceptions to the ‘A.M.’ rule, such as on holidays and events. Or when Twilight awoke to the sight of two magenta hooves around her midsection.
Shifting to her hooves, Twilight quickly looked behind her. There was the sleeping form of one Cheerilee, the schoolteacher of Ponyville. In her bed. With what could only be described as the most peaceful expression that Twilight had ever seen. Panic gripped her as she quickly recounted the night before.
Rarity. Fancy Pants. Bathtime. Cheerilee. Scarlet Letter. A door. Her tongue. Tongue Doctor. “Tongue doctor?” Twilight echoed aloud, her tongue smarting as she clicked it. Right. The door. Twilight Sparkle, the hero of Equestria three-fold, personal student of Celestia, had spent last night at the mercy of a mare twice her age and then fell to the almighty power of an oaken door. And then... she looked down, emerald eyes staring back up at her. They had gone to bed. Together. And now they had woken up. Together.
And somehow, nothing else had happened. “Cheerilee...” Twilight breathed.
“Morning, sleepyhead,” Cheerilee smiled, pushing herself up onto her hooves and bringing her hoof up to Twilight’s chin, bringing it level with her own. “Somepony say they ordered a tongue doctor?” Well, from what Twilight’s blossoming memory could recall, there was actually a lot more happening than nothing on her bed, if her very tired tongue had anything to say about it. A furious blush and an attempt to bury her face in her hooves did nothing to hide the fact she very much was going to visit Cheerilee’s E.R.
-----
At the breakfast table, Cheerilee sat at the table with Spike as Twilight tried to put together something in the kitchen. Cheerilee looked up from time to time, and every time Spike would look away from a very obvious and intense glare. Rolling her eyes, Cheerilee put on her best face and cleared her throat, getting the young dragon’s attention. “So, Spike, how have you been? I’ve seen you out and about with Sweetie Belle and her group of friends a lot this summer. Have you been enjoying yourselves?”
“Yes,” Spike said curtly.
Cheerilee waited for more to come out of the dragon, but after it was soon apparent that he was done talking, Cheerilee softened her tone. “So what else have you been up to?”
“Stuff, I guess. Nothing out of the usual. Twilight has me to do a lot for her. I’m her number one assistant, you know.” Spike said, his slit-like nostrils flaring as much as he could muster. Cheerilee stared blankly, absolutely captivated by the sight of Spike trying his hardest to look... intimidating?
“Of course you are, Spike. Irreplaceable in both her studies and in her heart,” she said, looking him in the eyes. “I always thought you to be a bit more than just an assistant, though.”
Spike put his hands down on the table and stood up on his chair, eying the schoolmarm as best he could. “Oh yeah? You’re not just saying that for me to put my guard down?”
Cheerilee couldn’t help but laugh off the accusation. “Put your guard down? Spike, what are you talking about?”
“Hey, you’re dating Twilight, and that’s cool and all, but you’re a teacher, too. And like, that’s the best kind of assistant Twilight can have! You’re pushing in on my territory here, and I won’t stand for it!” Spike slammed his fist into the table. “You’re not nocturnal like Owlicious is...”
Cheerilee put a hoof over her mouth, her smile hidden behind it. “Oh Spike...” she started, her voice steady. Years of foals saying the darndest things had prepared her for any outburst, and while she was staring down the eyes of a dragon, it was still a baby dragon. “What makes you think I’m trying to become Twilight’s assistant?”
Spike stood straight on his seat, his tail wrapping around the base of the stool. “‘Cause when Owlicious became Twilight’s night assistant, he started sleeping here, too. And I saw you and Twilight last night in the same bed!” A sudden flush came to Cheerilee’s cheeks as Spike crossed his arms, leaning impossibly forward. “It doesn’t take a genius to know what you’re trying to do. You want to replace me as Twilight’s go-to assistant!”
If Cheerilee had been eating or drinking something, she would have spit it out in a decorative pattern in front of her. Something that, if put on a canvas, would go for a couple thousand bits at a Canterlot art show, sponsored by Canterlot Cutlery. If it took more than one cut, it's not a Canterlot Cut! Cheerilee stared blankly as her brain replayed the invasive Canterlot commercial. By the time she realized Spike was still staring her down, she forgot she wasn't eating something.
Yet somehow, she still ended up choking on her tongue, and Cheerilee fell into a fit of coughing, which at least gave the poor girl an excuse to hide the redness of her normally much more magenta cheeks.
“Cheerilee? Are you alright?” Twilight called from the kitchen, her head poking out the door. “Spike, why are you leaning like that?”
“I don’t know Twilight, why don’t you make a nice bow for your girlfriesstant!” he said.
“Holy non-sequitur, Mare-Do-Well!” Pinkie Pie exclaimed, her head sticking out of the nearest window. All eyes turned on the pink intruder, Cheerilee’s heart skipping a beat as she was mere inches away from the party pony. “That was a good one, Spike! I should make up superwords like that more often!” Despite his foul mood, Spike puffed his chest out to Pinkie's praise.
“Hello, Pinkie.” Twilight bleated, trotting into the room with a couple of food items floating through the air behind her. “I’d say most ponies knock, but...”
“I’m not most ponies, I know,” Pinkie Pie finished, leaping through the open window. “I just wanted to swing on by and tell you guys that I’m throwing a party and everypony’s invited!”
“Oh?” Cheerilee asked, her voice returning to her. “Well, I don’t think I’m one to ever miss an open invitation to a Pinkie Pie party. What’s the occasion? Is it somepony’s birthday? Or somepony new come into town? Maybe the occasion is there is no occasion?”
Pinkie Pie smiled largely. “Oh, totally the second one, but I’m gonna remember the third one! That’s a Super-Duper good idea on the Pinkie Pie Splendiferous Scale of Partyness.” Putting a hoof on her chin, Pinkie shrugged. “But it could be somepony’s birthday somewhere. Maybe I should cook up an extra batch of cupcakes just to be sure.”
“Who’s the pony that came into town, Pinkie?” Spike asked.
Pinkie shrugged again. “I dunno, but suddenly all the air was out of my lungs like whoosh and my legs went super taunt and I nearly catapulted over myself!”
Twilight raised an eyebrow. “And that means...?”
Cheerilee had the answer to that one. “New pony in town, I think.”
Spike hopped off his feet and onto his bottom. “I could have told you that!” he muttered defensively.
“Or the first time in a long time, so it could be a reunion party. How fun!” Pinkie bounded over to the front door, waving her hoof goodbye to everypony in the library. “Alright, well, I still got all the other ponies in town to tell about the party! And find the guest of honor, which should be the pony who I don’t recognize, so it’ll be super easy to find!”
“I’m sure, Pinkie,” Cheerilee patronized, waving at Pinkie as she rushed out the door, leaving it wide open. Twilight sighed as she placed the sandwiches down, her magic capturing the doorknob and pulling it shut. “Never a dull moment with her.”
“You don’t know the half of it...” Twilight sighed, taking her seat at the table. With a spark from her horn and closing her eyes, she raised the sandwich up to her mouth and took a bite of her cupcake. Taking in the sugar-sweet taste, it took her a moment to realize that she did not bring a cupcake to the table. In fact, she very much remembered only bringing a daisy sandwich with her. “What the..!?”
“Your bread was moldy.” Pinkie said from the window, her head sticking out again. As she put down a small plate of cupcakes, her ears were flopping and her nose twitched. “So I brought you something sweet instead!”
“How...?” Twilight began before ‘logic’ stole away the rest of her words. “Well, this isn’t the most nutritious breakfast imaginable,” she said, eying the sweet treat in front of her with mild scrutiny. The moldy sandwiches lay on the center of the table, where a greedy dragon tongue made their way around them and quickly made all three disappear without a trace.
Cheerilee looked on in wonderment. “Pinkie, do you have anything like fruit on you? I would very much like an orange or something citrus....” she asked, offering up her cupcake to trade. Pinkie put her hoof on her chin, gazing at the ceiling as if considering the proposition.
“Okay, Cheerilee, you got a deal.” Swapping the cupcake out of her hand, Cheerilee quickly found a full pineapple in her hoof, fresher than a tropical breeze. “Pleasure doing business with you girls, see you at the party!” Pulling her head back through the window, the rest of her wild cotton candy mane disappeared with a whoomph as it closed the window behind her.
Cheerilee shook her head at the marvel of the last two minutes, offering the fruit to Twilight for preparation. “Is this what every morning is like in your home, Twilight?”
Twilight took up the pineapple in her magic and began unraveling the hard outer shell. “You can never be too sure of any morning when Pinkie’s one of your closest friends,” she admitted. Inspecting the fruit, Twilight began to extract the core from it. “Thanks for the assistance. I don’t want to get an upset stomach from morning cupcakes. I can’t eat like Pinkie can.”
Cheerilee smiled and nodded. “Nopony can. And it’s no trouble at all, Twilight. I’ve spent my early years growing up around Ponyville, same as Pinkie. She’s such an energetic pony, I have wished to get to know her better. If I have to stay over more often to see her, I think I just might.” Rewarded with a bashful unicorn trying desperately to hide her blush as she sliced through the perfect pineapple rings, Cheerilee looked over to Spike.
His death glare could have frozen Discord in his tracks.
-----
Dear Princess Celestia,
I write to you on the progress of our little problem and have found quite an interesting situation, both in regards to your pupil’s lack of letters regarding the magic of camaraderie and the object in which our foreign and domestic woes have started. I should hope that Fleur is doing all she can to keep them comfortable and entertained in my stead. She certainly knows the beauty of Canterlot like the back of her hoof!
Twilight Sparkle, upon the inappropriate timing of her most private collection of writings, seems to have played her hand out in the open, and I am happy to report she has started her first relationship, as you predicted she would have. I am not sorry to have lost our wager and will be sending over my best seamstress to get started on your new dress for the Summer Solstice festival.
However, more curious still is the subject of your pupil’s desire. A graduate of Canterlot University and – perhaps more importantly – she is one of the daughters of Scarlet Letter – A name I’m sure you recognize every time you see the Red Letter from your balcony. This creates a possible window of opportunity for our little problem with the diplomats and their... frustrations. I shall be devising a solution to end this little fiasco, or at the very least, shift the proverbial egg from one face to another.
As for your end of the bargain, I should hope that nothing has turned up in regards to a certain aforementioned pony of discernible class. I should hate that after all these years, I should be played a fool by a pony I had considered to be a close friend and business partner. I can only hope that this betrayal on my end is mine alone, and not in response to some earlier slight against myself.
I couldn’t live with myself if—
“Fancy?” a female voice called. The unicorn snapped up from his letter, looking about until he saw the owner. “Still writing dreary old letters to pretty mares?”
Fancy Pants sighed with relief, putting down his quill momentarily. “If I recall correctly, my dear, I asked you to stay in Canterlot via letter.” Trotting over, the mare nuzzled Fancy Pants softly but still kept a respectable distance with the rest of her body.
Raising Fancy’s chin to stare into her emerald eyes, Scarlet Letter smiled. “I thought you made it clear last night that I shouldn’t always listen to you?” Swinging around Fancy, Scarlet headed over to her kitchen with a very noticeable shake of her flanks.
“Sadly, an old stallion can never seem to keep up with his own words,” Fancy relented, returning to his letter. Finishing up the letter, he produced a small jar from his saddlebags. Opening it over the letter, dragon’s flame leapt out of the jar and lapped angrily over the pages until nothing remained but green smoke. “There we are. Well, Celestia old girl, I hope I find out whatever it is you’ve sent me here to uncover.”
“Fancy!” Scarlet called from the kitchen, her voice inquisitive.
“Yes, what is it?”
“Would you like to go to a party?” Scarlet asked. “A lovely pink pony in my pantry just handed me an invitation.”
Fancy stared into the kitchen, his expression blank. Scarlet appeared from around the corner with two personalized invitations in her mouth, addressed to the both of them. Giving them a closer look, Fancy nodded his head. “Sounds like a capital idea. I wonder who we’re welcoming?”