The door to Rainbow's floating home opened with a quiet creak. The pegasus shuffled in, the weight and dried sweat of the day clinging to her every feather. Once she had closed the door behind her, she leaned back until her shoulders struck the frame. She slid down to her haunches, gazing dully into the empty spaces of her foyer.
A heavy sigh escaped her nostrils. She brushed her forelimbs together. For the time being, the numbness had subsided. She almost wished it hadn't, for she still sensed the ticklish sensation of a little foal's spiked mane. Laughter and sobs still lingered in her ears, both belonging to the same voice.
Rainbow shuddered, for she almost felt as small as everypony said she was.
“Well, well, well, what sparks around come around,” cackled a voice from around the corner. On tiny stone feet, Lance shuffled into the room, using a random fork to pick at his fang. “About time you flew back, Miss Flapsalot. I hope you don't mind; I raided your fridge. I was about halfway through a bag of the most exquisitely sour grapes before I realized that this stone body of mine doesn't currently have a digestive tract.”
Rainbow Dash stared at her forelimbs. She titled her head up and looked at him.
“You know, it needs to be said. Your kitchen could really use a garbage disposal. And a toilet.” The statue tossed the fork across the room. After it embedded into the wall, he turned and smirked at her. “I hope you don't mind that I used the waistbasket for both.”
Rainbow Dash stood up and shuffled towards him.
“Ah, yes. Here it comes.” He cleared his throat, cracked his joints, and spun around to offer his rear-end. “I do suppose this morning's stunt calls for a real game winner. Aim for the bleachers, champ! This one's from downtown—”
Rainbow Dash reached Lancie, and when she did, she threw two forelimbs around his serpentine body and hugged him to her chest.
Lancie's stone eyes bulged. “Uhhhhh...”
“Just sh-shut up for once, will ya?” she muttered, staring into the shadows.
“Uh huh...” Lancie gulped, then tilted his head up to squint at her. “Sparky? I'm afraid I have a confession to make. I don't get you.”
She sighed heavily and leaned her chin against his antlers. “I don't get me either.”