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// 499: I Count Every One 
// Story: Thirty-Minute Pony Stories 
// by Silvernis 
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499: I COUNT EVERY ONE




She won’t stay. That was what the voice whispered to her the first night, the mean little voice that crawled around the back of her brain and tried to hurt her and make her a bad pony. Pinkie Pie was afraid that it might be right, that once the party was over and her special punch was gone, Twilight would be gone, too. But Twilight stayed, and Pinkie had never seen anything more beautiful than the sticky, smiling unicorn who was curled up against her when she woke up.

It’ll never work. That was what the voice whispered after the first week. It sounded grumpier and meanie-er than normal, like it really hadn’t expected things to even get this far. Actually, nopony had really expected them to stay together, not their friends, not even Twilight. It wasn’t supposed to happen. Twilight was the rational one, the bookworm, the scientist, and Pinkie Pie was Pinkie Pie. But she stayed, and she was wonderful, and Pinkie had never smiled more.

She’ll leave you soon. That was what the voice crowed after the first month, after the first fight. Well, not really a fight; more like an argument. Well, not really an argument, either. It was more like a prank, an extra-loud prank that accidentally made an extra-big mess in the library and ruined an extra-important experiment that Twilight had been working on for days. But even then, she stayed. Pinkie’s bed was cold and lonely at first, but then there was a flash of purple and warm legs hesitantly slipped around her. Pinkie had never cried so much before.

It won’t last. That was what the voice tried to whisper after the first year, but Pinkie Pie could barely hear it any more. It had lasted. They had lasted, together. They had lasted for a whole year. That was the same as twelve whole months, or fifty-two weeks, or three-hundred-and-sixty-five days, plus three-hundred-and-sixty-five nights. That was a lot of time, and Twilight had stayed. Pinkie had never celebrated that kind of anniversary before, but everypony agreed that the party was her grandest yet.

And this morning, the only voice was her very own.

“Twilight!” she whispered loudly, leaning over the pony sleeping next to her. “Hey, Twilight!”

Twilight’s pretty purple eyes crept open. After a moment, they focused on Pinkie. “Good morning, Pinkie Pie,” she mumbled, smiling sleepily.

“Morning, Twilight! Guess what?”

“You’re going to let me sleep in for once?”

“No, silly! You’ve gotta get up! Today’s a super special day! Know why? Do ya? Do ya? Do ya?”

“Hmm.” Twilight thought for for a minute, then looked up at Pinkie. “It’s our five-hundredth day together, you’re planning a spontaneous musical number for when we go outside, there’s going to be a party that’s wild even by your standards, and we’re going to spend the night trying out all the new stuff you put in the toybox?”

Pinkie blinked, then giggled. “Wow, you’re good! How did you know?”

Twilight grinned. “I made an educated guess about the song, the party, and the toys, but for the five hundred days together . . . ” She wriggled closer and wrapped her forelegs around Pinkie Pie. “I count every one,” she whispered, and kissed her softly.

Pinkie Pie had never been happier.