Ten Degrees

by Bachiavellian


Ten Degrees

It was hot, hot, hot.

With great, round beads of sweat dripping down the bridge of her nose, Lyra opened the door to the Sweet Tooth and stepped into the inviting coolness inside the candy store. The little “Closed” sign rattled against the door, breaking the still silence inside.

Lyra took in a big breath of the wonderfully brisk air. It smelled like powdered sugar and cocoa. Letting it all out with a sigh, she trotted past the customer area, through the little gate on the front counter marked “Employees Only”, and towards the back stairs.

“Bonnie, I’m back! Do we still have any of those daisies left? I’m starving.”

Just before making her way to the upper floor, she first shot a glance towards the kitchen. Empty and quiet.

“Bon-buns, where’re you at? The train leaves in an hour. You’ve got some judges’ socks to knock off in Canterlot!”

Lyra titled her head when she got no reply. It wasn’t unusual for Bon Bon to take a morning nap after working all night on a batch, but she’d usually be up again before noontime. Maybe she dropped by Sugarcube Corner to size up the competition? Lyra couldn’t remember everything Pinkie had said about the Cakes’ entry—only that there had been a lot of marzipan involved.

From the around the corner came an abrupt sniffle. Lyra’s ears swiveled at the sound.

“Are you okay, Bon Bon?” she called out, suddenly uneasy.

Stepping down the hall, she opened the door to the little living room, where the sound had come from. Bon Bon was inside, lying sprawled on her Having-a-Bad-Day couch, face in her hooves.

“Bonnie!” Lyra scrambled to the crying mare’s side and held Bon Bon’s head to her chest. Tears quickly matted the fur on Lyra’s forelegs. “What’s wrong?”

“Oh, that featherbrained Rainbow Dash!” said Bon Bon. She leant into Lyra’s embrace and threw both legs around her shoulders. “Why can’t that mare ever do her job? It’s all ruined now.”

“Rainbow Dash?” Lyra shook her head. “Honey, you’re not making any sense.”

“It’s ninety-two degrees outside,” Bon Bon managed between frustrated sobs. “Ninety-two, without a cloud in the sky! The weather schedule said that today was supposed to be an eighty-two!”

“I don’t, uh…” Lyra bit her lip. “What do you—”

“Milk chocolate melts at ninety-two degrees, Lyra.” She dejectedly pointed to a wax-lined baking tray sitting on the coffee table that had somehow escaped Lyra’s attention. “This morning I put it out on the window sill to set, but it was too darn hot out. And now they’re all ruined.”

Lyra’s heart sank all the way down to her hooves as she took the sight of the melted candies. Little, shapeless mounds of chocolate sat in pools of hardened caramel filling that had spilled out when the treats crumpled in the heat. The ones at the edges had even run down the sides of the tray.

“Was this the batch for the contest?” Lyra spoke past the lump in her throat.

Bon Bon only nodded in response, smearing tears across Lyra’s coat.

“Oh, Bonnie, I’m so sorry.”

“I spent the whole night mixing everything.” Bon Bon sniffed again. “It was perfect, Lyra.”

“I know, I know, Bonnie,” Lyra cooed. She drew a gentle hoof across Bon Bon’s hair.

The minutes ticked by, and slowly Bon Bon’s hiccupping sobs quieted down. Together, the two of them lay on that sofa for a long time—the departure time for their Canterlot train came and went. Finally, as orange-hued evening light found its way through the windows, her own rumbling stomach snapped Lyra out of her sleepy daze.

With Bon Bon snoring and snuggled tight next to her, popping down to the kitchen for a snack was out of the question. A moment’s consideration later, Lyra wrapped her magic around the most intact of the chocolate lumps on the tray beside them.

It broke off messily, leaving most of the bottom still stuck in the caramel sludge. Even then, the effort Bon Bon put into it was obvious; each piece had carefully drizzled swirls of white chocolate across the top. As melted as the piece was, Lyra could still see at least two other kinds of chocolate folded into delicate layers, one on top of the other. Wistfully, Lyra popped the candy into her mouth.

It was delicious. Sweet and salty, with a hint of savoriness from the heavy, rich caramel. It was the kind of treat that demanded a second bite as soon as the taste of the first one faded from your tongue.

“Lyra?” Bon Bon stirred. “Lyra, don’t eat those, honey.”

“What?” Her voice was muffled with chocolate before she swallowed. “Why?”

“Well… it’s just that—ugh,” said Bon Bon, ears flattening. “They were going to be so much better. It’s not fair.”

Lyra tilted her head. “I don’t know, Bonnie. These are really, really good.”

A ghost of a smile lingered on Bon Bon’s face, and she squeezed Lyra.

“Really? Give me a bite.”

With a grin of her own, Lyra lit her horn and pried two candies from the tray. She hungrily bit into one of them and offered the second to Bon Bon. The other mare hesitated for just a moment before taking her own piece from Lyra’s magical grasp.

Something in Bon Bon’s posture relaxed into Lyra’s embrace as she chewed, even more so than when she was asleep. Lyra giggled knowingly.

“I told ya,” she sing songed.

Bon Bon gave her a little shove that nearly sent them both tumbling off of the narrow couch. It only renewed Lyra’s chortles.

“There’s no denying it, Bonnie. You’re the best candy-mare.” Lyra planted a kiss on the top of Bon Bon’s head. “The very best.”

A rosy tint bloomed across Bon Bon’s cheeks. “Oh, enough of that, now,” she said. “And it’s ‘confectioner,’ sweetie.”

“Whatever.” Another sugary treat twisted itself free and floated to Lyra’s waiting mouth.

“We really shouldn’t be filling up on sweets,” said Bon Bon.

Thoughtfully, Lyra pursed her lips. “Why not? Just for today?”

There was a brief instant of still silence before Bon Bon turned her head and surveyed the batch of ruined chocolates. Nearly two dozen pieces still remained untouched. Bon Bon sighed and gave Lyra another squeeze.

“I suppose you’re right,” she said, tsking to herself. “Why not?”