//------------------------------//
// The Great Pastry Heist 
// Story: Three Little Visitors 
// by Daniel-Gleebits 
//------------------------------//

Three Little Visitors: Pt 1


Sunset slurped happily on her milkshake, enjoying the company of her friends. It sometimes still surprised her even now that tranquil scenes like this one could fill her with the sort of contentment and joy that had evaded her in her lonely days. There sat Pinkie Pie, attempting to create an impromptu tower out of the table’s service wear, whilst Fluttershy held her own drink away from the inevitable collapse that was to ensue. Rainbow Dash and Applejack, as usual, were arguing about something or other. A casual observer might think there need be some concern, as the pair of them could become quite loud, but Sunset knew by now that they could argue over just about anything and be best friends again within five minutes. It was all rather endearing really.
“Oh I’d be only too happy to help you, dear,” Rarity said candidly with a wave of her hand. “Frankly I’m flattered you’d ask, especially on something this important. This speech is nothing to turn your nose up at.”
“It’s just a proof reading, Rarity,” Sunset said, awkwardly. “It’s no big deal, I’d just really appreciate it.”
“Sunset, darling; we all know of all of us, you’re the academic. The notion that you would ask for help in your own area of expertise is a compliment. Although I have to wonder why you’re doing this so early; it’s not due until the end of the school year.”
“I might want to change it between then and now. I’ll have no chance if I leave it until the last minute.”
Other than this point, Sunset didn’t see any point in arguing. Rarity had that sparkle in her eye that was usually reserved for when she had an ♪ideaaa♪! To avoid saying anything else she finished the rest of her milkshake. Apparently sensing her reticence, Rarity turned her glamour-beams on the next available target.
“Just what are you two arguing about?” she demanded, suddenly stern.
Rainbow Dash gave her a heavy-lidded look of confident victory, which had seconds later been directed at an exasperated Applejack. “Hm?” she asked.
“We’re arguing about that string of robberies that’s been happenin’ down on fifth street near the school,” Applejack explained, a little huffily. “Arr-Dee reckons it’s some kid gang doin’ it.”
“It totally is!” Rainbow cried emphatically, looking beseechingly at them all. “I’ve seen them!”
“You have?” Sunset asked, vaguely interested. 
“Well... yeah, I kinda saw them,” Rainbow said more hesitantly. “I mean, I saw them, but then I kinda didn’t too, you know?”
“No,” Rarity said in a flat tone.
“I mean, I saw them in this alley, hopping out of a window. I think there was three of them, but it was dark so I didn’t get a good look, see?” She looked around hopefully.
“Moonshine,” Applejack sighed, sitting back comfortably.
“Is not!” Rainbow retorted, glaring at Applejack.
“Well, supposing you did see three kids jumping out of a window, how do you know it was these same robbers in the news?” Sunset pointed out.
“I...” Rainbow began, but then stopped. Her eyes flicked this way and that for a moment as they all looked at her expectantly. “I... guess I don’t,” she conceded, settling back in her seat. 
Sunset felt a twinge of pity in her chest for Rainbow; she knew what it was to feel excitement and a perceived sense of uniqueness over a discovery. Even Applejack didn’t look too happy about disillusioning her friend.
“Still,” Rarity said in a more upbeat tone. “Whoever they are, I hope they don’t come anywhere near my boutique.”
“Yeah, for their sake,” Applejack exclaimed with a chuckle.
“My father was only showing you his rifle,” Rarity said, colouring up. “He thought you’d be interested.”
“All I know is that when I come into a room, a big, moustachioed man with a gun ain’t exactly what I’d call a friendly welcome.”
“It wasn’t loaded!” Rarity snapped.
“T’ain’t the point!” Applejack shouted back.
“Now, now, girls!” Mrs. Cake chided, pouring Fluttershy another ice tea. “No shouting, please.”





“I’m gonna get fat,” Sunset muttered to herself, looking guiltily into the paper bag of pastries. The walk from Sugarcube Corner wasn’t nearly enough to work off such a large amount of calories. But Sunset didn’t care; Mrs. Cake’s pastries were just too good to resist.
Resistance is futile, her conscience told her, which Sunset thought a strange thing for her inner moral-compass to say. Shrugging, she took one out, salivating at the mere feel of its soft warmth and overpowering smell, even on this cold spring morning. Taking a bite, she felt the sugary treat dissolving on her tongue, the icing melting into a nectar of irresistible sweetness.
“It should be illegal to make cakes this good,” she muttered, rubbing convulsively at her waistline. As she lamented the future prospects of her potential figure, her ears picked up an odd sound. She paused, and then looked behind her. As usual on school days, the street was utterly quiet. Only rarely did cars even come down the street at this time of day. School days off were always like this. So what had made that odd click-clack noise? 
Sunset scanned the street narrowly once or twice, frowning, but could see nothing unusual. Shrugging, she turned back around and started to walk again. She hadn’t taken six steps, when she was caught up short again, this time by a small hissing sound. She turned around quickly and looked hard at the street behind her. It hadn’t been the hiss of air escaping a tire, nor the hiss of a cat warning off another cat. It had sounded more like someone making an impatient or irritated noise between their teeth. But there was no one there.
On a hunch, Sunset peered down a nearby narrow alleyway. She’d passed quite a few on her way down the street, for this was an avenue made up almost entirely of shops and small businesses, and small openings were made to accommodate delivery trucks and vans. She narrowed her eyes for a moment or two, but had to admit that she could see nothing.
Shrugging to herself, she carried on. “You’re just getting paranoid,” she told herself out loud. “Guilt will do that,” she sighed, taking another bite of her cake.

She didn’t think of the odd sounds again until she arrived inside the lobby of her apartment. Stopping to give one of her cakes to Old Jim, the doorman, she paused on her way to the stairs.
Like most people, Sunset had a sixth-sense for half-perceived oddities in her daily routine. Exactly how long it takes for a kettle to boil, or how many pops or clangs happen every morning as the boiler tries to warm up the building. In this case, Sunset frowned at the door, sure that it had clattered shut a few seconds later than it usually did. She looked to Old Jim.
“Did you see someone come in the door after me?” she asked him.
Old Jim looked up at her myopically through thick spectacles, lowering a magazine. “What?” he asked in his quivery old voice.
“Err,” Sunset muttered. “On second thought, never mind.” She smiled and stumped towards the stairs.
When she reached her floor, she was accosted momentarily by old Mr. Ferry who lived opposite, and then proceeded to unlock her door. Fumbling for her keys with her free hand, she dropped the bag of cakes to the floor, cursing as her keys clattered next to it. Sighing in exasperation, she bent down to pick up the bag and keys, when she heard something down the corridor. 
Okay she thought to herself. Just who is that?
She snuck quickly down the passage to the stairwell again, looking for the source of the noise. No one. She peered down the stairs themselves. Nothing. She scowled, feeling a creeping sensation of trepidation. Was someone actually following her, or was she just being paranoid over perfectly innocent sounds? 
Ears pricked for more noises, she made her way back to her apartment, and opened the door. She took one last look down the corridor, and then closed her door with a snap. She turned the bolt in the door to lock it, and set her bag of pastries in the kitchen, fully intending to sit down with a mug of tea and another cake to watch some television. Unfortunately, this happy plan was broken by the disagreeable feeling persisting within her of being followed. She paced the room a little, her eyes flicking several times to the door as the feeling of an insubstantial hand lingered on her shoulder. She looked out of the window, sat down, stood up again, went to her bedroom, looked in the bathroom. She listened for any out-of-place sounds.
What’s that rattling? she thought with a start. Then she realised that it was just the bathroom pipes. They always do that
She’d just persuaded herself to sit down and pick up her mug of tea, and beginning to feel her heart rate decreasing, when a sound rang through the room that nearly made her jump clear of her seat. 


Knock 
Knock


Cursing again as she felt hot liquid hit her upper legs, she stood up and set down the mug. Making her way quietly to the door, she carefully placed her eye to the spy hole. She blinked; there was no one there. 
More suspicious than ever, she checked the bolt on the door to make sure that it was securely locked, and then made to turn away.


Knock
Knock
Knock


She put her eye to the spy hole again. Still nothing. 
She frowned, a modicum of intrigue poking at her from beneath her misgivings. Whilst she hesitated, the knock came again, but continuous and louder than ever. Quickly now, she opened the door, and stared out. No one was there.
“Hello?” she called, looking left and right.
“Hello?” a squeaky voice repeated.
Sunset looked down, and opened her mouth in bewilderment. A little girl was standing there, a girl of about six or seven. This might have been perfectly ordinary, had the girl not been wearing what appeared to be a Greek or Roman-style dress, and sandals. The girl was staring up at her with bright magenta eyes, grinning widely. She had a tooth missing, and smudges on her cheeks. She also had bright blue hair, about shoulder length. The girl looked oddly familiar, yet Sunset could not for the life of her say whether or not she had actually seen her before.
The girl had her hands behind her back, and was bouncing on the balls of her feet expectantly, but she didn’t say anything. She just stood there, looking up at Sunset. Sunset simply stared back.
“Um... can I help you?” Sunset asked eventually, trying to sound kind as opposed to confused.
The girl didn’t exactly reply to this, but raised a hand, and pointed passed Sunset to the apartment within. Sunset turned automatically to see what she was pointing at, at which point she felt the girl dodge by her into the room.
“Hey!” she cried, as the girl skipped inside.
The girl laughed, looking back at Sunset and grinning cheekily. Sunset blinked rapidly at her.
“Who are you?” she asked the girl, frowning. The girl didn’t reply, but hopped on the spot excitedly, as though she wanted Sunset to chase her. When Sunset simply stood there looking bemused, the girl seemed to change tack. Spotting the mug of tea on the coffee table, she picked it up and took an experimental sip.
“Stop that!” Sunset snapped, stepping hurriedly forward as the girl choked and spat the drink out. The girl made an exaggerated sound of disgust as Sunset snatched the mug from her. “Where are your parents? You can’t just come into people’s homes and—“ Sunset stopped admonishing her as the girl giggled and leapt onto the sofa. “Stop!”
The girl ignored her command and jumped up and down on the chair, bouncing to the other side when Sunset attempted to grab her arm. Blowing a raspberry, she leapt over the arm of the couch and ran into Sunset’s bedroom.
Utterly nonplussed and seething with irritation, Sunset ran after her. “Put that down!” she roared, as she skidded into the room to find the girl bouncing on the bed, Sunset’s magical journal over her head. The girl made a cheeky motion with her hand in front of her nose, and skipped nimbly away from Sunset’s reaching arm. “That’s not yours! Give it back, now!”
The girl blew another raspberry, but seemed to be having too much fun to pay much attention to her surroundings. Bouncing on the bed’s edge, one of her feet slipped off, and she fell with a squeal off the back and out of sight.
Sunset winced as she heard the double thud of the girl and the book hitting the floor. 
“Are you okay?” she asked, leaning over the bed. As was to be expected, the girl seemed to be momentarily stunned, biting her lip whilst rubbing her backside. As Sunset struggled internally as to whether she should remonstrate the girl or act kindly, she heard a sound from the main room. Apparently the girl had heard it too.
With suddenly cat-like reflexes, she scrabbled to her feet and leapt onto and over the bed whilst Sunset was distracted. Grabbing the door handle, she used her momentum to swing off it and out of the room, slamming the door shut as she went. 
Sunset had leapt after her too late. She seized the door handle, but the door wouldn’t open. She pulled harder.
“Let go of the handle!” she shouted, as the door slammed shut again. She gaped as she heard multiple voices on the other side. I’ve been had!
Anger surging through her, she wrenched the door open, yanking the handle out of the girl’s grip. She stumbled back into a second girl with purple hair in a loose bun at the base of her neck, carrying a large brown bag. Sunset stared. A third girl with bright orange hair looked up at her with the startled look of a cornered cat. All three of these girls, Sunset noticed absently, wore the same ancient-style dresses, frayed and dirtied. She also noticed, less absently, that the orange-haired one had her laptop under her arm. 
All three of them stared at Sunset. Sunset stared back at them. Then Sunset recovered first. 
The orange-haired child cried out savagely as Sunset wrested the laptop from her hands. Sunset’s victory was short-lived, however; a lancing pain in her right shin brought her tumbling to her knees. The girl holding the brown bag dragged Blue-hair out through the open door to the hallway. Orange-hair followed, pausing once to give Sunset a look of hearty disgust.
“Wait!” Sunset called after them, limping to the door. But it was too late. She only had time to see one sandaled foot disappear around the corner to the stairs, and the distant sound of feet rapidly descending the stairs. Sunset sprinted after them, trying to ignore the pain in her leg. Startling Old Jim as she ran passed his desk, she pushed open the doors to outside and stared around. 
Nothing.
Not a sandal or filthy white dress to be seen.
“A-Are you alright?” came an uncertain voice from behind her. The doorman put a wrinkled hand on her shoulder. “You look troubled. Were those three children bothering you?”
Sunset looked at the doorman, hesitating. “No,” she said eventually. “I just... they just looked familiar, is all...”



- To be Continued