//------------------------------//
// Grown-up 
// Story: Timed Ramblings 
// by Midnight herald 
//------------------------------//

It was almost a normal morning in Sugarcube Corner. Almost. A throng of ponies clamored for coffee, croissants, and anything else they needed to start the day. As usual, Pinkie Pie danced her normal morning ballet, joking, congratulating and chatting up every pony at the register with her usual indomitable charm. And as usual, her words seemed tailor-fit to each and every pony who dropped their bits at the counter. But over the bustling hubbub of the overcrowded bakery, Rarity could still tell that something was terribly, horrible wrong with her rambunctious friend. 

Pinkie Pie wasn't laughing. Although she had her usual cheery grin, natural as breathing, not a single guffaw, not a single giggle, not a single chuckle had escaped her lips. And Rarity knew by now that nopony laughed harder or louder at Pinkie's antics than Pinkie herself. So, regrettably aware of the five half-completed orders waiting for her at the Boutique, Rarity excused herself from the queue and waited for the breakfast rush to die down. Pinkie obviously needed someone to talk to, and Rarity was there to listen, whether Pinkie knew it or not.

As the last pony finally decided between a raspberry or lemon poppyseed scone and left, Rarity trotted up, as casual as a mare who had spent the last fifteen minutes lurking in a secluded corner could be. Pinkie turned to her, with a nearly-convincing smile, her ears perking up brightly.

“Good morning, Rarity,” Pinkie chirped, her smile growing brighter. “How are you doing?”

Rarity could see a glimmer of something unpleasant in Pinkie’s bright, open eyes. She sidled closer to the register and smiled back, although she didn’t really feel it. “Actually, Pinkie, I was wondering how you were doing,” Rarity said, her brow furrowing in concern.

“I’m doing fine, Rarity,” Pinkie answered, quirking her eyebrows and fidgeting in place. But there was no laughter in her voice, not like there usually was.

“Pinkie, darling, I have an eye for detail,” Rarity sighed, glancing around the room. Nopony was there to chastise her, so she trotted around the counter and lay a gentle hoof against Pinkie’s chest. “And you haven’t laughed all morning. Please, will you share whatever’s bothering you?”

Pinkie scuffed the floor with a bashful hoof in an awkward silence. “I’ve just been thinking,” she said eventually, looking up from the tilework. Her eyes shimmered with unshed tears, and her mouth was set in a timid, crooked half-smile. “I mean, I’m a full-grown mare, Rarity,” she continued, softly. “Shouldn’t I … grow up a little?”

Rarity had never seen Pinkie look this fragile, this lost before in her life. She hugged Pinkie with as much strength as she could find in her forelegs, pressing her neck against Pinkie’s, trying to form words. A few comforting nonsenses came through her tight throat, but nothing else presented itself. So instead of fumbling with words, Rarity squeezed Pinkie even tighter while her mind raced. Finally, she released her friend and took a step back, swallowing.

“Pinkie, whyever would you feel like you haven’t grown up yet?” Rarity asked.

“I’m always doing something weird, I guess,” Pinkie said, flicking her ears in irritation. “I never say the right things to ponies besides you girls, and … and … and they get this look on their faces like ‘oh, that Pinkie’s sure a weird one, don’tcha know’... and I can see it. I can always see it, and it hurts.” A single, lonely tear trickled down Pinkie’s muzzle. She rubbed at it angrily, muttering something angrily under her breath.

Rarity thought for a minute, choosing her words as carefully as she had ever picked through a pile of gems, or color swatches. “Pinkie,” She began, hesitantly. Pinkie looked up at her, those bright blue eyes of hers burning with intensity. “Pinkie, you spend your days fulfilling others’ lives without asking for or ever expecting reciprocation beyond a smile. You help run the best bakery in Ponyville, you take care of your friends in a way nopony else can. You’re curious about the world, and you show exactly how much you enjoy life with unparalleled enthusiasm. And you love everyone so freely, so completely...” Rarity broke off, trying to find the words she needed. “You don’t need to ‘grow up’, dear. You’re one of the most mature and amazing ponies I’ve ever met,” she finished, smiling a little herself at the hope shining out from Pinkie’s face. “Pinkie Promise.”

Pinkie Pie wasn’t laughing, not yet, but she still tackled Rarity to the ground in a full-body hug, whispering ‘thank you’s and trembling with emotion. And as she lay on the dusty floor, with looming deadlines ahead of her, still hungry and badly wanting a strong cup of coffee, Rarity couldn’t think of anywhere else she needed to be.