//------------------------------//
// Chapter 3: Friendship Research 
// Story: The Last Vacation 
// by Noble Thought 
//------------------------------//

It’s strange, relying on intuition and feelings to guide my research. But if it hadn’t been for those intuitions, I wouldn’t have discovered, well, magic. Add to that the doppelganger in those videos, and it was more than enough to cast suspicion on that school, CHS. So why do I keep relying on supposition and intuition to make discoveries? I can’t even repeat half of the experiments.

Twilight tapped her finger on the old entry, near the middle of her journal. Formulae and diagrams covered the page everywhere else. On future pages, they grew sparser the closer to the present day the entries got. None of her calculations were even close to what Sunset Shimmer had shown her of Equestrian magical force equations.

She wrote a brief note in the margin, shook her head, and flipped towards the present. Months of research, going back even before the Event, as she’d labeled it. Her handwriting changed from the imperfect loops and lines of her pre-teens to the neater, orderly block lettering she’d adopted since. 

Every page showed her something different and woke an old memory. 

Days spent in her ‘lab’ in her parent’s basement, weeks drawing and perfecting designs for what would become her magical potentiometer. Early permutations of equations, later refined and crossed out. It wasn’t until she got to her journal entry the day after she had met her friends that she began to understand what it was that drove the feelings in her heart.

Before then, she hadn’t drawn anything but scientific equipment, graphs, and models. After that, the charts appeared as often as little doodles of her friends. A head or a bust, sometimes their marks. Little busts of Sunset sat next to sections of equation and under charts, explanations and lore from Equestria. Pinkie Pie surrounded by symbolic hearts, Rarity in one of the gowns she’d shown off at the slumber party. Rainbow Dash, balancing a ball on her head, tongue between her teeth. And Fluttershy, surrounded by her animals.

They were little more than pencil sketches, things she hadn’t spent more than twenty minutes on, but they weren’t the cutesie little doodles she’d seen in other girls notebooks of boys and hearts and kisses. They were as close as she could make them to what her friends actually looked like.

She flipped through her journal again, going back to the beginning. The first page. Cadance had drawn a picture of Twilight there, cute and out of proportion. Chibi, Cadance had called it. Underneath, it read: For my favorite genius. I got this one extra big so you can fit all your ideas in one place.

Seven years ago. Seven years, more than a hundred pages, and that was the first, and last drawing of another person. Until a month and a half ago. From there on, the doodles headed her pages, peppered the margins, and crept in wherever her pencil was resting at the time.

“I was lonely,” she whispered.
 
“I know that feeling,” Fluttershy said from the towel next to her. “I was lonely at Cloudsdale Elementary until Rainbow Dash stood up for me.”
 
“I had my brother, though. And my parents. And my babysitter, too. I shouldn’t have been lonely. I had other people who cared for me in my life.”
 
“So did I. That didn’t stop me from feeling lonely at school, where none of those other people were. I’m not sure that’s the answer you’re looking for.” Fluttershy frowned at the shell in her hand. “I’m not even sure what you are looking for.”

“I want to know why I’m worrying so much over… things. I never used to worry like this. And if I know why, then I can stop worrying. Because I can fix it.”

“Hmm.” Fluttershy peered up at her, blue eyes squinting against the sun. “And you think being lonely has something to do with that?”
 
“No. At least, I don’t think so. Maybe it does. I’m not sure.”

“I think you’re worrying because things are changing.”

“What’s that got to do with being lonely?”

“I think, and this is me, but I think maybe it’s because now you worry about what others think of you.” Fluttershy beamed a smile up at her and set the shell down. “I’m comfortable with my friends.”

Twilight waited, watching as Fluttershy’s cheeks pinked faintly. Her friend didn’t say anything else, only dug through the sandy shells in the cup made from her skirt and legs.

Oh. Twilight cleared her throat  and looked down the beach to where their friends were fiddling with the badminton net again. Rainbow Dash was laying on the ground, arms thrown wide, and her laughter came over the wind and waves.

“Is that what it is? Do you think I’m worried about what they think of me?”

“Everyone is.”

“Except sociopaths and psychopaths,” Twilight said drily.

Fluttershy snorted a laugh and covered her mouth. “Oh, goodness.”

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to get snarky.”

“It’s fine. You have it worse than most. I imagine you feel like you have to live up to a standard set by some… pony else.” Fluttershy waved it away. “You don’t. So… why do you think your diary—”

“Journal.”

“—journal has the answer you’re looking for?”

Twilight hadn’t shown it to anyone. Not even Cadance or Shining. Not even to Sunset. She pulled it closer. “Because it’s my life. I’ve kept this journal since I was eight.” The corners were starting to fray, but the sturdy leather cover was still withstanding time. 

It was, Cadance had said, an exact replica of one used by Star Swirl himself. She’d had a chance to compare it to one of the surviving Astra Carta journals he’d kept throughout his life, and the resemblance was nearly perfect.

She stroked her fingers down the cover, tracing the deeply embossed crest of her name symbolized in an ancient pictographic language from a culture that had idolized horses; a culture that was still alive in some parts of the world. Her cutie mark, as Sunset had called it. She might as well get used to thinking of it like that. It wasn’t just her name in another world. It was the symbol of a whole other person.
 
“This journal is…” It was her life. And more. “I’ve put everything in here that I didn’t want anyone else to know.”

“I see. And the answer to why you’re worrying is in there?”

“It has to be.”

“Mmm. Let me know if you find anything.”

Twilight flipped backwards again, to the first page detailing her research into the Event. There, she’d taped a picture of the six girls. For weeks after she’d first seen it, posted to Pinkie’s public MyStable page, it’d hung in her mind whenever she closed her eyes. From that moment… 

Twilight stared at the computer screen, the WhoTube video paused with her face center frame. All around her were five other girls. The blue skinned girl with the blue wings was flying even, with her wingspan spread wide at that perfect moment before a downsweep.

“Am I on drugs? Were those mushrooms in tonight’s pasta... special?” She rewound the video to the beginning and started it over, watching the girls snuggle close again for the photo.

Six other videos, all from different angles, were paused on different tabs of her browser, each one showing the same scene. “It looks so... real.” Even down to the way the wings worked and the way the plumage was arranged. Even down to the minute detail of the ears betraying the moods of the six girls.

They were all happy.

And she was in the center. Happy. Smiling.

Twilight frowned and pressed a hand to the unfamiliar pang in her chest.

The memory passed. The pang was still there, hurting just as much. That was a moment she wouldn’t ever live. A moment where she’d been happier than she ever thought she might be able to be.
 
Fluttershy was staring at her, a hand held out partway. Her eyes flicked to Twilight’s. “Are you okay?”
 
“I’m...” Twilight looked up from her notebook to where, further down the beach, her other friends were engaged in a furious game of badminton. Applejack and Rarity were facing off against Pinkie Pie and Rainbow Dash. She couldn’t make out the banter over the sound of the waves and wind, but she did hear the laughter that followed each point scored.

“Tell me.” Fluttershy laid her hand on Twilight’s, pulling it free of the journal. “We’re here to help.”

“I was jealous.” It was out. “You were all so happy, and I was, too. But that wasn’t me in those videos. I wanted to know what that felt like. What could make me smile like that? What if, what if I can’t—” Her hand shook as she touched her cheek, brushing away the stream of tears. Crying. Because she was jealous. Petty. She laughed, the taste of it bitter in her mouth. It turned into a sob.

“Shh.” Fluttershy sat up straighter, pulling her down into a tight hug. “Shh.”

Her mind blanked as her worries bled away.





“...sleeping.”

“Alright. She had us worried.” Applejack’s voice sounded close by.

Twilight jerked upright, hands flying to her journal. It was still in her lap, closed. Immediately, she relaxed, one hand on the cover.

“Whoa. Hey, Twi. You alright?” Applejack was crouched beside her, one hand on the folding chair, the other braced on her knee.

“Yeah.” She recalled sobbing herself into incoherence and exhaustion. Fluttershy had laid her back down on the chair and sat with her until she fell asleep. She vaguely remembered Fluttershy telling her jokes and stories, trying to get her to laugh, but right then she couldn’t remember any of it except for the occasional chuckle. “I…”

She groped after the feeling that had gripped her before. That part of her felt numb, and when she tried to remember the photograph, and the video, it felt flat. The images were there, and she knew what she’d felt.

“You were holding onto a lot of hurt,” Fluttershy said softly.

“Ya okay now?”

“I think so.” An impulse grabbed her, and she opened the book, flipping to the photo. It was the only thing, aside from the date, on the page. “It was this.”

Applejack scratched her hairline and drew her hat back down. “I remember that. Sad day, t’be honest.”

“Sad?” But the girls in the picture were so obviously happy.

“Well, sure. We knew she wouldn’t be able to come back after that. Not for a long time, at least. I think Pinkie got hit the hardest. Y’know. After.”

“Oh. I never even thought what it would be like for you all.”

“Heh. I never really thought about what it’d be like for you, lookin’ in from the outside. Suppose…” Applejack laid a finger on the picture, above Other Twilight’s head, covering the wings. “Suppose it must hurt, seeing yourself have that much fun, and look that happy. And not gettin’ to be a part of it.”

“It did. But I think I’m okay for now. No more tears.” Twilight tried to smile, but it felt weak, like her muscles just didn’t want to move.

“Hmph.” Applejack ruffled Twilight’s hair. “Don’t say that. You need to cry, you cry, got it?”

“It’s okay, you know. You’re safe here, and...” Fluttershy brushed her fingers against Twilight’s elbow, then settled on the back of her clenched fist. The warm fingers, dusted with bits of iridescent shell, squeezed gently. “I can imagine what it felt like, standing on the outside and looking in. I used to do that.”
 
“I didn’t know that. I”m sorry.”
 
Fluttershy pulled Twilight’s hand down and cupped it in both of hers. “I’m doing much better now.” She teased open the clenched fingers. “I realized that I was happier being included. Even if it was just a small group of girls that I was friends with, being with them has helped me.”
 
“But what about her? Isn’t—” Twilight cut herself off.

“Who says we can’t have more than one of you as a friend?” 

“Heh. Fluttershy’s right. Look, I’m gonna go tell the other girls you’re alright.” Applejack grinned down at her as she stood. “Don’t make me a liar. Let ‘Shy help. She’s good with feelings.”

Fluttershy reached down and scooped up the seven shells she’d drilled holes into. “I’ll do what I can to help.” She held out the shells, and placed them one at a time on Twilight’s palm.
 
The shells were all the colors of the magic they shared. Even the red of Sunset Shimmer. Do they see the colors, too? “What’s this for?”
 
“Friendship bracelets. It was Pinkie’s idea. Something to remember this vacation by. It’s our first with you, after all.”
 
Twilight let her eyes rove over the beach, to the house and the makeshift badminton court set up with string in the sand. Rarity and Pinkie Pie were sitting by the sidelines while Applejack and Rainbow shot the birdie back and forth in a furious exchange. “I-I just met you all, and I...” She swallowed, looking down at the creamy yellow hands cradling her violet. I love all of you. She swallowed again, this time against a lump growing bigger in her throat. Why?

“It won’t be the last, I’m sure.”

“But I hardly know any of you at all.” Twilight looked away, but didn’t draw her hand back.
 
“No, I understand. We would like to get to know you, if you’ll let us. And maybe you’ll see us the same way we see you. As a friend.” Fluttershy glanced at the notebook, closed on Twilight’s lap. “We want to hear what you have to say.”





“Wait, wait... a dragon?” Twilight bent to pick up another shell, a tiny thing the shade of Rarity’s hair, and handed it to Fluttershy. “I think you said it before, but... what? Spike is a dragon?”
 
“Well, so he said.” Fluttershy smiled and bent forward to pick up a faint pink shell lying on the sand. “But I stopped questioning things after he started talking.”
 
“I still can’t believe that.” None of the videos had shown her dog, Spike, ever talking. “I suppose I should stop wondering if it was really real, too... I mean, I did have wings, and a... was it a tail?” She pulled a strand of her waist length hair around flipped it back and forth. “I still don’t know why Rarity wants me to wear my hair loose like this. It’s so much neater in a bun. And I don’t get any of it in my face.”
 
“I think Rarity likes it because, well, it does look really nice on you. I do like the bun, too. You looked more...” Fluttershy ducked behind her curtain of hair. “More like you, I guess. Pony Twilight wore her hair down, too.”
 
“Should I wear it down?” Twilight gathered her hair up and bundled it up at the nape of her neck, then let it fall.
 
“You should wear it how you like.” Fluttershy reached up behind her neck and grimaced, then pulled out a pair of elastic bands. Her hair drooped and fell flatter, losing some of the curl at the tip. “If you want, we can make you look like old you again.”
 
“Maybe.” Twilight touched the proffered hair bands. “What about yours? I love your hair the way it was.”
 
“I have more back at the house.” Fluttershy shook her head, letting her hair out more. “What’ll it be? Pony Twilight or you?”
 
“Can we call her something other than ‘Pony Twilight?’ It just sounds weird. Like you’re referring to me, but as a pony. And was she really a pony? I mean really?” Twilight shook her head, trying to ignore the fluttering queasiness in her stomach. “It just sounds so strange. I mean, I’ve ridden ponies as a little girl and while they were smart, they weren’t... people.”
 
Fluttershy eyed her, face passive. Wind carried the sound of laughter and the whistle and whack of rackets to them as they walked on.
 
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean—” Twilight hesitated, then put a hand on Fluttershy’s shoulder. “I’m not very good at talking to friends.”
 
“I know what you meant.” The smile returned to Fluttershy’s face. She deftly wrapped her hair into a ponytail and settled back in next to Twilight. “I’m not upset. It’s like my bunny, Angel. He’s smart, but I can’t talk to him like I can other people.”
 
“Right. That’s what I meant.” Fluttershy’s shoulder was loose under her hand, and warm. The light pink locks of hair brushed lightly back and forth against her wrist. “I mean, is... other Twilight a four legged equine? With wings? Or a bipedal humanoid with wings?”
 
“You know, I never really questioned that. When a dog talks to you and tells you that everything that one of Pinkie’s hunches suggested is true...” Fluttershy reached up to pull Twilight’s hand off her shoulder, then twined their fingers together. 
 
Twilight felt her neck heat, but didn’t let go. Walking hand in hand with her friend felt natural, and the close contact was easing the tension in her shoulders. Thoughts of what others might say flicked through her mind, and she dismissed all of them. Romance novels flicked through her mind, and she coughed. She pushed them away, too. Even the daring one she’d read where the leads were two women. That one, she kept taped to the inside of her box spring.
 
Fluttershy smiled at her, then continued: “Little details like species tend to fall by the wayside.”
 
“And now? Is it important now that I’m here? Because it kind of is, to me. I think.” Twilight stopped and scrubbed her face with her free hand. “Isn’t it? I mean, it’s me, but she’s also not me, and she’s your friend, too, and what am I?” What’s important? Is it important? Should I know? “I just don’t know.”
 
“You’re our friend.” Fluttershy’s grip tightened. “As for her... it bothers you, doesn’t it? Not knowing who she is or what she is. Or even what she means to us?” Fluttershy drew Twilight away from the surf, leading her with a gentle tug. She sat, facing the ocean, and tugged once more. “It’s okay to be bothered by it, you know.”
 
“Do you still worry about her?” Twilight followed her down, letting go of Fluttershy’s hand to smooth her shorts up to her thighs.
 
“Sometimes. I wish we knew what happened that prevented her from being able to come here, but I feel like I would know if something really bad happened to her.” Fluttershy found Twilights hand again, resting her fingers lightly to the back of her fingers. “I just feel like we have a connection. All of us.”
 
“I’m sorry. I’ve never held hands with anyone before.”
 
“I do it all the time. It helps me feel the person I’m with. Does it bother you?”
 
Does it bother me? She looked at their hands, her heart thumping. “It’s just that, in the movies—” She swallowed, hard.
 
“We’re not dating, Twilight. We’re friends. Close friends, I’d like to believe.” Fluttershy met her gaze and squeezed her hand. “Friends can hold hands, you know. It doesn’t need to mean that we’re in love with each other. It means...” she shrugged. “It means whatever you want it to mean. Just between us.”

Flutterhy’s fingers were cool and light on the back of her hand, not dry, but not damp either. Nor, she realized, was it an intimate touch. Fluttershy was her friend. That’s what mattered.
 
She looked back up the beach to where her other friends were all sitting down after a game. Rainbow Dash and Rarity were sitting together, and Rarity would occasionally point out over the water. Applejack was sitting with Pinkie, looking over something on a towel between them.
 
When she turned her attention back to Fluttershy, the other girl was watching her closely. “What?”
 
“Sometimes, it is hard to remember that you’re not her, even though she hasn’t been around for almost six months. But… you are you, and the more time I spend around you, the easier it gets to see the differences.”
 
“I thought she was an exact copy, though.” Twilight pushed her feet down against the wet sand, then lifted away to look at the identical impressions her sandals left in the wet sand. “She’s me.”
 
“No, she’s not you.” Fluttershy leaned forward and pointed at the imprints. “They aren’t the same.” She traced a finger around the edges of the inside of the soles. “Sure, they’re mirror images, but are you your reflection?”
 
“Only in bad horror movies.” Twilight smiled, trying to put a bit of mirth she didn’t feel behind it.
 
“Rainbow Dash made me watch that one once.” Fluttershy giggled. “But even in that movie they only look the same.” She dug under the sand and pulled out a twisted, tiny little shell. “Under the surface, they’re different.”

Twilight dug under the other imprint, but found only more sand. “It just takes a little more effort to tell them apart.” She flicked the sand off her fingers and leaned back. “I think I understand a little more. But she acts like me.”
 
“Really? I didn’t think you were prone to carrying books in your mouth.” Fluttershy’s eyebrow rose.
 
“No, but—”
 
“Twilight, you aren’t her.”

“I know that.” The photograph in her notebook, six girls smiling and hugging for the camera.

“Maybe... you saw how close we were in the short time that we knew her.” Fluttershy shook her head and looked up at the sky. Her hand closed over Twilight’s again, fingers stroking her palm gently. “You said you were jealous of her and the closeness we shared. I think you’re trying to find ways to show us that you are her.” She squeezed. “I feel close to you, Twilight.”
 
“But why? You’ve known me barely a month.”
 
“Do I need a reason? Sure, it started because I thought you were Twilight.” She tightened her grip. “But the more I, and we, came to know you, the more important you became to us. You... fit.” She shrugged. “It’s like—” She shook her head. “It’s like… because we knew her, we know you better than we ever had a chance to know her.”

Fluttershy frowned, her hold on Twilight’s hand tightening. “I don’t know how to explain it. But...” She nodded to their friends. “You get along with us easily, when you’re not worrying about why you fit in.” She grinned, squeezing Twilight’s hand again. “It’s natural for you, when you let it be.”
 
“I don’t know why it is. Did she—”
 
“We don’t want you to try to be her, Twilight.” Fluttershy’s grip on her hand tightened briefly. “We want to get to know who you are and, unlike her, we have time to get to know you properly. Don’t try to rush it.”





All around her, her friends were enjoying the idle time after the sun had gone down while a fire crackled cheerfully in the fireplace. A long day of enjoying the sun, playing games, and walking the beachfront had been wonderful.
 
Of course, it wouldn’t have been complete without Applejack and Rainbow Dash daring each other to try the water and stand the chill wind. At least until Rarity called them out on their tomfoolery and called an end to the day’s fun.
 
Upstairs, she could hear Applejack running the shower in fits and spurts to conserve the propane that gave them hot water. In the common area, Rainbow Dash, hair still dripping from her shower, and Fluttershy were playing a game of Go Fish while Rarity and Pinkie Pie were talking about the Spring Fling.
 
“‘Jungle Fever?’ Pinkie Pie, have you ever even been to a jungle?”

“Depends. Does Applejack’s back forty count?”

“That’s a forest.” Rarity bopped Pinkie lightly on the shoulder with her pen. “A jungle is all oocky and nasty. Vines everywhere, and not a hotel in a hundred miles. Your hair frizzes, your skin chafes even in a hundred percent humidity. How is that even possible? How?”

“Ookie-dokie. No Jungle Fever.” Pinkie scratched off a line.

“I suppose we could have a Forest Faire. You know... medieval dress, formal gowns and noble finery. Knights and maidens, princes and princesses.”
 
“Oooh! What about pony princesses?” Pinkie’s eyes flicked to Twilight, watching them from the kitchen table. “Or, well, another one.”
 
“Well, maybe. I don’t think she’s going to be able to make it, though.” Rarity shot a glance over her shoulder. “Would you like to join us, Twilight? We’re trying to decide on a theme for the Spring Fling.”
 
“It sounds like you have a good choice already. I’m not really a history buff, you know. I’m a scientist, at heart.”
 
“You know, I don’t think CHS has ever had a science themed dance before, but we could do a science theme.” Rarity turned over another page in her notebook. “Why don’t you come over here and we can talk science.”
 
The notebook under her hand, the one she had filled with speculation and unscientific thoughts on magic, itched at her mind. Heat blossomed in her cheeks. Imaginary, nightmare scenarios where her mentors and peers found out about her secret studies wormed their way forward, taunting her with imaginary laughter, kicking her out of school, and destroying her work.

“I, um…”
 
Rarity’s eyes, meeting hers, stayed steady as Twilight’s cheeks burned. Why did I want to study it in the first place? The journal, a safe place where she could be frank and honest and not worry about what others thought, might have the answer somewhere amid the scribbles, formulae and diagrams. She opened it again and stared at the first page.
 
“Oh, come over here, Twilight. We’ve only got a few days before we have to get back to the same-old-same-old back at school.”
 
“It’s the same for you, maybe... but I’m still new. I’m just worried that—”
 
“Vacation, darling. Worry later, come tell us about laboratories, lab coats, and mad scientists.”
 
“You do know that Halloween is over, right?” Twilight bit her lip as soon as the sarcastic comment left her mouth, and looked at her notebook again, then pushed it away. “Sorry.”
 
“Don’t be.” Rarity jerked a thumb at Rainbow Dash. “She’ll give you a run for your money where snark is concerned.”
 
Rainbow looked up, smirked, and nodded. “You’re not so shabby yourself, Rares.”
 
“I do try to keep my tongue civil, Rainbow Dash. Not that there aren’t times a good bit of wit is appropriate.” Rarity turned her attention back to Twilight. “So, tell us, what gets you in a tizzy when you’re doing experiments?”
 
Magic. Twilight stuffed the thought far into the back of her mind. “Actually... Star Swirl was a great scientist, you know. I like your idea of something medieval, Rarity, and Star Swirl is widely credited with the beginning of the Enlightenment Era. We could...” Twilight shrugged. Not many other people shared her fascination with the ancient astronomer. “It’s a silly idea.”
 
“Not at all! Come, come! Tell us all about Star Swirl.”

She hesitated, fingers on the cover of her replica Star Swirl journal. He would… do what? 

Teach, probably. She snorted a laugh, and left the table to sit next to Rarity. “What woud you like to know?”

“Oh, everything. You never know what might inspire the next big thing.”

“Well, um… Star Swirl was an aristocrat from birth,” Twilight said, settling in and starting from memory. She’d read his biography at least six times.

Rarity took notes as Twilight told the story of Star Swirl’s rise to prominence, the star maps he was famous for, his observations on celestial motion, and the mathematics he’d introduced to describe the motions of the heavens.