The Dancer and the Diplomat

by Flint-Lock

Tea, Talk, and Trouble

I can handle it.

The carriage hit a pocket of turbulence, dipping briefly before regaining altitude. Daniel clutched the arm of his seat, his knuckles turning white as his face.

I can’t handle it!

Of all the stupid things he’d had said during his twenty-eight years of life, ‘I can handle it’ was definitely among the top ten, trailing just behind ‘Hey guys, watch this!’ and ‘I’m pretty sure this is a shortcut’. He didn’t know what would kill him first: his job, or his mouth.

Daniel’s stomach did a pirouette. Back on Earth, he could barely fly in a conventional airplane without going into hysterics. By Tartarus, he couldn’t even climb a ladder without his knees knocking together! So sitting in an open-topped carriage some five hundred feet in the air with nothing but a seatbelt was his own personal hell.

There was a sharp pain in Daniel’s stomach. It was official: his ulcer was back.

“Daniel, are you okay?”

Summoning up enough courage, he turned in his seat, muscles aching after staying clenched for so long. Twilight’s concerned face was there to greet him.

“Just fine,” he said through clenched teeth.

Twilight raised an eyebrow. “Are you sure?”

“Oh yes, I’m fine. Never better. Feeling peachy keen.”

He managed a smile and a chuckle, though both sounded fake, even to his ears. After all, he was only flying in a pegasus-drawn vehicle with the aerodynamics of an easy chair that was kept aloft by a mysterious force that continued to give human physicists sleepless nights. He had absolutely nothing to fear.

“Okay…” Twilight said with a deadpan expression.

A pocket of turbulence rocked the carriage. Daniel’s stomach somersaulted in reply.

“Gotta calm down,” Daniel muttered under his breath. “Just relax, nothing to worry about. Happy thoughts, happy thoughts.”

He closed his eyes, forcing himself to take deep, calming breaths. He hadn’t realized it until then, but he’d been all but hyperventilating. With the change, the chariot didn’t feel like it rocked so violently, and his head didn’t swim. Desperate for relief from the nightmare he’d found himself in, he searched his memories for something happy. He seized the first one that came forth, playing back every detail, no matter how minor.

He bellowed the blanket out over the grass, smoothing out the wrinkles once it had settled.

The night had taken ahold in Canterlot, and the moon hung above them, twinkling stars providing it with some company. Spring was starting to take ahold, and everywhere new life sprung up. The night was pleasant enough, though as the wind blew he wished he’d brought a jacket.

Despite the chill in the air, there were a few other ponies still about. Most were couples, strolling through the park, leaning against each other.

“There, I’m half proud of that,” Daniel said, taking a step back to get a better view, hands on his hips.

Starlight shook her head, trotting up to deposit the picnic basket she held in her mouth onto the blanket.

“It is fine,” she said. “But then nothing would be fine as well. It is unnecessary, when the ground is right there.”

“Oh come on, don’t be a spoil sport,” Daniel said.

To prove his point he plopped himself down on the blanket, and patted the spot next to him.

His guards had taken up positions a respectful distance away. Due to the occasion they’d gone armorless to help them blend into the population. George sat on a bench, kicking his hooves, while Lenny appeared to be snoozing under a tree.

Starlight trotted forward slowly, eyeing the piece of cloth as if it would attack her at any moment.

“I am not liking it,” she said. “It is too… garish.”

Glancing down at the red and yellow check pattern, Daniel couldn’t deny what it was.

“It’s meant to be like that. Now come on, before I drag you over here instead, and get grass all over both of us.”

That did the trick, and she took a seat with as much dignity one could on anything with a plaid pattern. Even the exasperated sigh had aplomb to it.

“It is nice out here, beneath Lady Luna’s moon. With my new schedule, I cannot be spending as much time in its light as I once did.”

Daniel gave a sympathetic smile. “Ah, I’m sorry it’s been like that. The last fortnight must’ve been rough, having to change your sleep patterns so much.”

Shrugging, Starlight glanced up at the moon, a motion that Daniel couldn’t help but notice left her back turned to him.

“Perhaps it was hard, but I will be taking it any day over what I had been doing before.”

He sighed. The last few weeks had been confusing ones. Starlight had taken his job offer just as he’d hoped, but paradoxically though they worked in the same building, he’d barely seen her since the night they’d met.

‘It was not proper,’ is what she’d told him. ‘Not proper for a maid to be seeing the master.’

The admission had made his heart hurt, but by the way she’d mumbled it, unable to look him in the eyes, he’d known she didn’t truly believe what she’d said.

His offer for a night under the stars had been his last ditch attempt to seal their friendship as something more than a flash in the pan.

Flipping open the top of the picnic basket, he set down what he’d been extra excited to show her. His portable record player had only recently come in as an order, along with a decent collection of pony records.

Thanks to Earth’s reluctance to hand over advanced technologies to unknowns, Equestria was still stuck using vinyl records. Daniel didn’t mind that so much; he’d collected records back before he’d fallen into the portal, and if his persistence paid off, they’d be shipped to Equestria soon.

“Thought you might find this interesting,” Daniel said, offering the jacket for the lone LP he’d brought with him.

Glancing back at him, Starlight took it, eyes scanning over the cover.

It was plain, nothing too special beyond a stylized image of a human, surrounded by skyscrapers.

“Human Classics and Folk Songs,” she read.

“Well with the copyrighted music ban until we can get the laws sorted out, they’re only public domain songs, but it looks like there’s a ton of good ones in there.”

Starlight hummed, and turned back to the moon.

“Please Star, can we just talk?” Daniel pleaded. His fingers twitched, wanting to grab Starlight’s shoulder, but he refrained himself. It’d only make things worse.

There was silence for a time, one that felt like an eternity to Daniel. To try and make it last longer he looked up at the moon, analyzing all its pockmarks and imperfections, it's craters, its empty seas . A childish part of him hoped that by looking upon something of such beauty at the same time, it might’ve bridged the gap between them.

Sighing, Starlight shifted her rump, turning to sit facing Daniel.

“I am being sorry,” she said, glancing down at her hooves. “This… whatever we are being, it is an unknown to me. I am not liking what Letyucha can be, and yet sometimes I am letting it influence me too much. There, to be fraternizing with someone of a higher station in life, it is—how do you say—taboo.”

Daniel blinked. Summoning up his courage, he rubbed her shoulder. To his relief, she didn’t flinch away, even leaning into it.

“Where we’re from, it can define us sometimes,” he said. “Even if we don’t want it to. But the great thing about moving to a new world, or a new country in your case, is that it lets us break the mold. Besides Star, we’re just two people. Stations in life, they’re silly concepts that deserve to be left in the past.”

She looked up, staring him dead in the eye.

“I cannot promise things will be changing overnight,” she said, voice serious, carrying conviction behind it. “But, whatever we are having, I will be trying to do what I want, instead of how my sensibilities are telling me. I am knowing myself well, and that is telling me I should hold onto you.”

Starlight smiled, and tapped a hoof against the record.

“Now, Lady Luna’s moon is too graceful a sight to be wasting on such things. Let us play your music.”

Nodding eagerly, Daniel pulled out the LP, even giving it a little spin before setting it down on the player. Setting the rpm to 78, he dropped the needle on and flicked the power switch.

It started up perfectly, crackling as it went through the blank outer portion of the record. Then it hit proper grooves, and the music came through.

Realizing he didn’t even know what song was first, he snatched up the jacket and scanned the contents.

‘Goodnight Irene’, it was titled. It rung a bell, though what it was did not come forward all at once. He had to work at it, all while the lead in music played, before it suddenly hit him.

“Oh hey, uh, how about we skip this one?” he asked, already reaching for the needle.

“Why would we be doing that?” Starlight replied, pushing his hand away.

Briefly he considered arguing, but he let it go. What would be the point?

“It’s… nevermind,” he said. “I just worried you wouldn’t like it, that’s all. This is your first human song, and I wanted it to be a happy one.”

“First, it is always being about the firsts,” Starlight said. “First kiss, first date, first time we make love. Our whole lives, we are obsessing with first. It is something I was never much understanding.”

Daniel smiled, but he was tense as the singer drew breath to sing the next verse. ’Irene Goodnight’, one of the most depressing songs he’d ever heard, that was going to be the background music for their relaxing night under the stars?

He tensed as the singer crooned the verse, watching Starlight closely. The mare sighed, playing with her mane, pulling it so it hung over her shoulder to tickle her barrel. The reaction surprised him. It had been whimsical; the sort of sigh woman gave during romance dramas.

But the worst part hadn’t come yet, that was reserved for the next line. Daniel didn’t know when he’d last taken a breath, and made no effort to change that.

“I am not sure what is worrying you,” she said. “It is a nice song, very romantic.”

Arching her back, she lay herself down on the blanket.

He blinked at her. “Romantic? You find a song about suicide and infidelity romantic?”

She pushed herself up, looking at him. “Oh, you were worrying about my reaction?” she asked.

He nodded, a thousand questions churning away in his head.

There was a pause, a moment of silence filled by nothing but the strum of the guitar.

“Well... I mean…” He managed a few more half formed words, before he hung his head. “Yes, yes I was.”

She burst into giggles, trying in vain to hide it behind her hoof. They were high and clear, like a schoolgirl’s. They were something that definitely didn’t fit Daniel’s image of Starlight, but adorable all the same.

He realized then that he hadn’t heard her laugh since the night they’d met, and never like that.

Deciding to test his luck, Daniel slipped out of his designer shoes and scooted towards Starlight. Not far enough to cross any boundaries, but still closer than was exactly necessary.

Irene goodnight, Irene goodnight
Goodnight Irene, goodnight Irene
I’ll see you in my dreams

The song came to an end, but the mourning in the singer’s voice stayed with Daniel long after.

Starlight combed her hooves through her mane. “How so very lovely,” she sighed. “The romance, it is so real.”

Daniel coughed into his hand. “Really? First time I’ve ever heard someone associate that song with romance.”

“What? Are you not seeing the beauty, the devotion of it?”

“It’s a song about a man who’s so obsessed with a woman that it ruined his marriage, and suicide haunts near his ever thought. I’d call that a lot of things, but romantic isn’t one of them.”

“I am begging to differ,” Starlight tutted. “Such a narrow view. To have emotions that palpable, that strong, is it not what everyone wishes to feel? What is the point of living, if one’s despair cannot make the moon seem all the brighter when you have left the black pit to soar above the clouds again?”

Daniel didn’t say anything at first, content to look up at the stars. A gust of wind blew over the park, and thanks to his thin shirt, a shiver went through him.

Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Starlight glanced down at the space between them.

“You are being quiet,” she said. “I am hoping I have not upset you. The outlook of Letyucha, I am told it was morbid. The girls I… I shared my street with, some found it funny when they found out, others didn’t look at me the same way.”

“Oh no, no, no. It’s fine, really,” Daniel quickly said. “It surprised me, but it kind of makes sense, I guess. Not for me, but I can kind of see it. Just remind me not to take you to see a Shakespeare play next time we go somewhere.”

“And you are one to be talking!” Starlight said. “This one picture you are telling me, the Wizard of Oz. Is not whimsy just as dangerous? To promise things that we can not possibly be achieving in our lives. Heartbreak, it hurts, but we may all feel it. A world of wonder, that is all the more elusive.”

Daniel shivered, not all of it was because of the cold, though he held his coat close to his body.

“I don’t quite know what to tell you Star,” Daniel said. “It makes sense what you’re saying, but I don’t really want it to. To live your life without a bit of whimsy, it must get awfully depressing.”

Something soft and furry pressed itself against his side. It took all of five seconds for Daniel to realize that it was Starlight.

“There, is that making you feel better?”

Daniel just sat there for a moment. “Uh, Star,” he said once his brain started working again. “What are you doing?”

“You were cold, so I was warming you up.” Starlight shrugged. “Why are you asking?”

“Well, it’s just that,” Daniel rubbed the back of his neck, trying to find the right words. “Where I come from, at least in my culture, we generally don’t do things like this unless we, uh, know each other really well.”

Starlight recoiled. “Oh, I am so sorry!” she said, blushing furiously. “It is just that, back in my home country, when our friends are cold, we draw closer in order to be sharing our heat.”

“It’s alright Star, it’s alright,” Daniel said, holding his hands palms out. “You can’t be expected to know human customs.”

The thestral’s blush faded. She turned her head towards him. “Well,” she giggled nervously. “At the very least, now I am knowing not to do that any more.”

Daniel smiled. Truth was, though, he didn’t really mind it. In fact, he’d actually kind of liked it...

“I am sorry,“ she murmured. “One does not need to be human expert see you are upset. If I am telling you the one moment when I felt whimsy, would you be forgiving me?”

He hesitated for a moment, but he reached down to pat her hoof. “Sure Star, I’d like that.”

“You are silly man, not realizing it. It was being the night I met you. Knight in shining armor, swooping in to save the day, and make a mare feel special. Out in the streets, that is being rare.”

Daniel tried to stop himself, but a snigger slipped out, followed by a full on laugh.

“What is being funny?” Starlight snapped, glaring at him.

“Oh Star, I’m sorry,” Daniel replied. “I didn’t want to be rude. It’s just, that night was going to be my proof to you whimsy does exist. If I was a knight in shining armor, that must make you the angel of mercy. I haven’t told you this Starlight, but back before I met you I was so lonely. I needed somepony, anypony to talk to. Well, it turned out I didn’t get just anypony, I got you. Charming and intelligent, talented and brave. They were all things I learnt you were that night.”

“It is… I have never been thinking of it like that before,” she said.

She craned her neck, and rubbed her cheek against his.

Daniel stiffened, but forced himself not to flinch away. “Umm… Starlight, didn’t we talk about this? About not knowing each other well?”

“I am remembering,” she said, but didn’t stop...

Something cold and fluffy smacked against Daniel’s face, tearing him from his memories. He opened his eyes to see the carriage, and everypony in it, covered with bits of cloud. Scraps of fluffy water vapor clung to his chin like a fluffy beard.

“My apologies,” the coachpony yelled back to them, voice almost lost to the rushing wind. “That darned cloud snuck up on me.”

“It’s alright.” Twilight shouted, picking bits of cloud out of her mane.

Daniel nodded in agreement, even though the coach pony was too busy focusing on the sky ahead to notice. He was rather grateful of that fact.

Busying himself, he brushed bits of cloud off of his chin, and wiped the worst of the condensation off his suit jacket. The physical laws of Equis were ridiculous things, more belonging in a cartoon than reality. During his time in Equestria, he’d seen gravity turn itself off and on, watched Newton’s First Law go on a coffee break, and witnessed the law of conservation of energy broken on a daily basis.Sometimes it was whimsical, almost comical. Other times it was a pain in the ass.

The carriage began to lurch as their descent hastened, the ground growing ever closer. They were soon low enough that there was actually a chance a fall wouldn’t be lethal, albeit a slim one. Daniel’s stomach didn’t take much solace in that, feeling like it was floating all while the bottom dropped out of it.

“Now arriving at Ponyville Castle,” the cabbie yelled.

Another lurch, and the carriage touched down on the grassy fields on the outskirts of Ponyville, shock absorbers bouncing. The coach pony pulled the carriage the rest of the way, trotting through the streets.

Daniel didn’t quite know why, but he’d been expecting there to be more a of spectacle associated with his return; the town clogged with reports barking questions and paparazzi snapping photographs. But there was none of that, and the only attention the pair received was a few neighbourly waves, to which they responded in kind.

It seemed to Daniel that Ponyville was the same as he’d left it, where titles didn’t matter, and everypony was your friend.

Eventually, they reached Twilight’s castle. It was much the same as it’d been the last time Daniel had seen it, though a few trees and flowers had been planted at its base. It made it look more homey, more welcoming. Just gave it a hint of the Golden Oaks in its appearance.

Daniel waited for Twilight to climb out of the carriage, then clambered out himself, resisting the urge to throw himself on the grass and kiss it.

Ground. Sweet, solid ground! He swore he’d never take it for granted again! He would relish every minute of being anchored to a solid surface, to be bound by the loving pull of gravity.

“Well... looks like we’re here,” Twilight said. “Let’s head on inside. I sent Spike a quick letter while we were in the air, so he should be working on the tea as we speak. I’m not surprised you didn’t notice that. From the goofy grin on your face, I’d guess you went to your happy place.”

In an effort to hide his blush Daniel walked through the main doors of the castle. Moonlight shone through one of the windows, reflecting off the crystal

“So, Daniel, what do you think of my new system?” She waved a hoof around the cavernous chamber.

“I think you need an intervention.” Daniel muttered under his breath. Everything bit of furniture, every vase, every potted plant, had been labeled. On a shelf near a window was a table marked ‘furnishing, 103’, on top of which rested a vase labeled ‘decoration, 104’. A rug labeled ‘decoration, 405’ lay sprawled on the floor.

“Well, Daniel?”

“It’s… something.” Daniel said.

“I know, isn’t it great?” Twilight cheered, rearing back to kick her front legs. “Oh, the castle has never been so organized!”

“Yeah,” Daniel said, feeling a little scared. That was Twilight alright: Princess of Friendship, hero of Equestria, and poster mare for Obsessive Compulsive Disorder.

The duo climbed up the stairs, and walked out onto the balcony, the one that encapsulated all of Ponyville.

Walking over to the railing for a better look, Daniel was struck by a sudden sense of nostalgia. He’d never realized it until then, but he missed the old days, missed his quiet life in Ponyville. From what he could see, the town hadn’t changed at all since his last visit; and for that, he would be forever grateful. A town like Ponyville was already perfect, and to change a single thing would be to tarnish it. There were still same old-world wood and thatch cottages. Same grassy streets, trampled flat by countless hooves. The city planners had even ensured the same heart motif was carved onto every wooden surface available.

A part of him, a more cynical part, wondered how long it could stay as it was. He could imagine it, masses of glass and steel rising amongst the houses like tumors. He could see the roads paved over with asphalt, and the charming gaslights replaced by blinding LED streetlamps.

“Daniel, you still with us? You’ve been staring out at the town for going on five minutes.”

Daniel caught himself, banishing the bad thoughts to the corner of his mind they belonged.

“Sorry. Just wanted to get a good look at Ponyville.” Daniel walked over to a wrought iron table labeled “furnishing 201” and sat down on one of the stools labeled “furnishing 200”.

“Spike!”

A purple-scaled dragon in a tuxedo walked onto the balcony, balancing a tea service in its claws.

“Sorry about the wait, Twi,” he said, voice more akin to a to a teenage boy’s than a reptile. He set the service down on the table, then turned to Daniel. “Hey, Dan!”

Daniel smiled. “Good to see you, Spike” He held out a fist. “Claw bump?”

“Claw bump!” Spike bumped a claw against Daniel’s fist. “It’s been awhile since you last came over. What’s been happening?”

The drake had definitely grown up. The chubby, stumpy-tailed baby he’d known two years ago was gone. Now he was a predator, with a lean, muscular body, pronounced muzzle, and whip-like tail.

“Oh nothing too interesting. I just locked myself in my office for a few days, preparing for that upcoming conference.”

Spike’s eyes widened. “Again? You really need to stop doing that.”

“Yeah, again. Now, thanks to Twilight, I’m on an enforced vacation for two weeks.”

Spike fidgeted with his claws. “You’re okay now though, right?”

“Well, work mandated time off with full pay. Can’t complain about that,” Daniel lied.

Relaxing, Spike managed a smirk, rolling his eyes.

“Only you, Dan. Things go bad, yet somehow you come out better off than when you started. Wonder when I’ll trip into a portal and end up as an ambassador to an alien world.”

“Just keep looking,” Daniel said, chuckling. “I’m sure there’s something in this gigantic castle of yours that’ll get you there.”

Reaching forward, he brushed piece of fluff off Spike’s dinner jacket. “You know Spike, Twilight can look after herself. She doesn’t need a butler.”

“Yeah, so?” Spike asked, setting out the cups and filling them with tea.

Daniel looked at Twilight. She shrugged. As Daniel had learned early on, she and Spike had a complicated relationship. While the little drake had acted as her personal assistant for most of his life, they were really something like a cross between best friends, siblings, and mother and son. Not a pet though. Spike did not like being mistaken for a pet. Daniel’s eyebrows could attest to that.

“Spike,” Twilight said, “it’s almost 8:00. You and Starlight had better get going”

Daniel’s brain paused for a minute, trying to process what he’d just heard. After getting past the fact she’d meant Starlight Glimmer, he didn’t feel much better.

Spike… Spike the dragon, that Spike, was dating Starlight Glimmer of all ponies?

She’d been around back when Twilight and Daniel had been dating, though they’d never really progressed past being acquaintances. He’d never quite trusted her, and could never rid himself of the doubt that she’d only reformed herself as a means to escape a more serious punishment.

“Oh, right! Sorry, gotta dash,” Spike said. “We’ll catch up some other time. Bros night out.” He hurried off into the castle, waving over his shoulder. “Later, Dan!”

He was gone before Daniel even had a chance to say anything. His brain was stuck on that revelation.

“Spike, and Starlight Glimmer?” he asked. “You didn’t think I needed to know that?”

Twilight blinked at him, before a scarlet blush spread over her face. “Oh, I never told you?!” she asked. “Guess it just slipped my mind, What with all the duties and research and such. Silly me, not telling you a big, important thing that any friend would.”

She let out an obviously fake laugh.

Sighing, Daniel pinched the bridge of his nose. “Well, better late than never I suppose. When did this start?”

“Oh! Visual aid. Visual aids make everything better,” she said.

“Twilight, it’s fine. You—” he started.

She vanished in a burst of light, only to reappear a second later with a book gripped in her hooves. Levitating it over to Daniel, she flipped it open to the first page in the process.

“Spike’s Super Secret Stuff,” Daniel read aloud, before looking up. “Twilight, should we really be looking at something like this?”

“Oh it’s fine, really it is,” Twilight said, waving a hoof, urging him to continue. “He wrote that at the start. He’s shown this to all his friends. In fact, he’s mentioned before that he wanted you to see it sometime.”

Daniel couldn’t deny his curiosity. Besides, Twilight would never lie about something like that. If she said Spike was okay with it, he believed her.

“Well go on then,” she said. “They’re very good. I never knew he’d make such an exceptional artist.”

Flipping through the first few pages, Daniel found all sorts of things. There were little doodles, and what seemed to be texture tests. They were all drawings, mostly pencil, with a few charcoal ones mixed in.

“It was pretty soon after you left actually,” Twilight explained. “Spike had gotten bored with the piano, but I refused to let him neglect his artistic side. So, he picked drawing as a replacement.”

“From the looks of things, he really got into it.” Daniel said, studying a drawing of a bowl of petunias. “He’s a drake of many talents.”

“Indeed. When he felt like he was good enough, he wanted to do some drawing of the… feminine form. Spike being Spike as he was back then, he immediately picked out Rarity for the job, but every time he went over to ask, she was always busy with something or another. I’m still not sure if that was by design or just coincidence, and Rarity isn’t telling. Eventually Starlight was ‘volunteered’ as a replacement model.”

Daniel flipped through a couple more pages. It was a drawing of a mare, draped onto a fainting couch in a pose that screamed sexuality, though the embarrassed smile lent her an air of vulnerability. It was very well done, though it wasn’t perfect. Some of the shading was a little off, and her muzzle was too elongated. It was the work of a skilled amateur, rather than a professional.

“So Starlight volunteered instead,” Daniel guessed. The cutie mark was a dead giveaway.

“Yes, that she did,” Twilight said. “You know yourself, those two spent quite a lot of time together anyway. I suppose putting them in an intimate a situation is shared between an artist and model, things were bound to come to a head. Came as a shock to me too, one day as far as I knew they were just friends, the next I caught them kissing between the stacks in the library like teenagers. Rarity was particularly thrilled when they made things public. She was always a great lover of romance, no matter who between.”

The rest of the artbook was a little bit of everything, though indispersed throughout were drawings of the same mare. Each one grew a little more stylized, with the technique behind it improving to match.

On the very last page was Starlight Glimmer, lounging in a field of flowers, staring off into the middle distance. The wind stirred her hair, and the sun shone behind her like a halo. If Daniel hadn’t met the model in person, he would’ve assumed it was meant as a personification of nature.

“Well, his emotions on the matter are rather clear,” he muttered.

Though Twilight had said it was okay, as Daniel looked on that final drawing, he couldn’t shake the feeling he was viewing something intensely intimate. Eventually, he could bear it no more, shutting it to put to one side.

“He’s absolutely smitten with her, and I don’t need to be the Princess of Love to tell you the feeling is mutual.”

“Well, good for him I suppose,” Daniel said, drumming his fingers on the table. “Twi, I’m sorry, but I have to say this. Aren’t you a little… concerned what with Starlight’s past, and you know Spike was never really one to see the bad in ponies.”

Twilight snorted. “Daniel, I know you never were Starlight’s biggest fan, but that’s really not fair. She’s paid her dues many time over, and even then her action were never anything more than an emotionally traumatized mare. Need I remind you that I was there to witness the wrong she’d done first hoof, and you weren’t. If I forgave her, you really should too.”

Daniel sighed, and glanced away. “Yeah, I guess. What she’s doing nowadays anyway?”

“Well she had a little revelation a while back, when we first made contact with her. It took her a little while, but she managed to find herself again. She’s become rather enamored with the concept of utopia, though she’s realized too how brutal and cruel her first attempt at one was. She’s reinvented herself as something of a scholar, and she and Spike have co-authored a number of papers in the field of sociology, while she also works on spells that could be immense boons to society. Suffice it to say she keeps herself pretty busy, and I collaborate with her myself from time to time.”

Daniel nodded, as they lapsed into silence.

He didn’t really know what to think, but he just couldn’t shake the feeling that Starlight Glimmer was bad news, despite all of the evidence to the contrary. Sure it sounded like what she was doing was all nice and fuzzy, but most political agendas could be made to have a positive spin. He settled for being happy for Spike, and reserving any further judgements until he saw her for himself.

Realizing he’d been neglecting his tea, he dropped in a sugar cube, before taking a sip. Sloshing the liquid around in his mouth for a second, he swallowed, tasting hints of rosemary and mint.

“How is it?”

“Delicious,” Daniel said, and took another sip.

Being in a relationship with Twilight had given him quite a taste for tea. While it hadn’t completely usurped coffee or energy drinks as his stimulant of choice, it was a serious contender for the throne.

“So, Twi,” Daniel set his teacup back on its saucer. “What have you been up to?”

“Busy, as always,” Twilight levitated her teacup, sipping it in a suitably adorable manner. ”In my spare time I’ve been collaborating with an anthropologist from Earth on a research paper.”

Daniel took another sip. “What kind of research paper?”

“It’s a thesis on the bizarre cultural parallels between Earth and Equis; the similiar names, somewhat similar customs, et cetera.”

“I see,” Daniel took another sip of tea. Physicists weren’t the only ones utterly baffled by Equis. Anthropologists and sociologists alike were pulling their collective hair out trying to explain the parallels between the two worlds. “What’s your hypothesis?”

“The idea I’m working on is that these similarities are not coincidental. Think about it; what are the odds that two entirely different worlds from two entirely different universes would develop such similar cultures? Even when those similarities don’t make any logical sense?”

“Maybe it’s coincidence,” Daniel said, waving a hand. “After all, you know what the old saying about monkeys and typewriters.”

“Daniel, Earth and Equis might be similar in many ways, but one has only one sapient race. The other has several. Both worlds have not had any contact with each other until very recently. Even when you take random chance into account, the odds that our respective cultures would naturally evolve along parallel lines are astronomically low.”

“Well then.” Daniel drained his cup. “If it isn’t coincidence, what is it?”

“Well, I have a hypothesis. I think that whoever, or whatever, built the portals may have also influenced Equisian culture, as well as your own.” She knickered. “For all we know, you could be the ones who copied us.”

Twilight gave her tea a stir. “Sadly, all it is right now is a preliminary hypothesis. We’ve only just begun data accumulation, so I can’t say yet if it’ll even hold water. As hypotheses are, it could very well be disproved, so don’t take what I’m saying as unequivocal fact.”

Daniel put a hand to his chin, tapping his cheek. Something was bothering Twi. He could see it: the slight twitch in her ears, the way her tail swished about like something was chasing it. Most others wouldn’t have noticed it, but to him, she might as well have had the words “I’m hiding something” floating above her in big neon letters. If he wanted to find out what it was, it was best to let the conversation flow, make her let her guard down first, then spring it on her.

“By the way, Twilight, how are the girls doing?”

“Oh same as always,” Twilight said. Her ears twitched.

“Rainbow and the Wonderbolts are touring on Earth, and are also negotiating some sort of crossover deal with a group called the Blue Angels, whoever they are. Rarity’s in Seaddle for the ‘Best of Both Worlds’ fashion show, looking for ideas for her upcoming ‘Human Fashions for the Equestrian Mare’ clothes line. Fluttershy’s busy working on her zoology doctorate.”

Daniel couldn’t help but smile at the last one. Sweet little Fluttershy with a PhD. He hoped they’d go easy on her during her dissertation defense. Knowing Flutters, she’d pass before she’d even made her presentation.

“What about Pinkie and AJ? Anything new with them?”

“AJ’s alright. She’s still working on the farm, business as usual, though she’s considering exporting some of her crops to Earth. Apparently Equestrian foodstuffs are in high demand, and in return she’s considering using some human techniques.”

“Really?” Daniel asked, eyebrows rising as a sense of unease settled in his stomach. “Applejack, strength of her own four hooves Applejack, is okay with using human techniques? I imagine there would be a lot of automatization involved, and you know what she thinks about that.”

Twilight waved a hoof, ears twitching again. “Oh, I don’t think she plans to go that far, least not while she runs the farm. Apparently there’s a bit of debate in the Apple Clan right now over how far they should take things. Either way, AJ just wants to do things like testing for soil pH, salinity, maybe hire a human specialist for suggestions on how to increase sustainability and yield using only natural techniques.”

He relaxed a little, though his fingers drummed against the table.

Glancing around the balcony, as if somepony was spying on them, Twilight leaned in closer.

“Don’t tell her I told you this,” she said in an almost whisper, the sort of whisper that was more conspicuous than if you’d just spoken in a normal voice. “But a representative from Monsanto approached her a couple of weeks ago.”

“Monsanto!” Daniel said too loudly, leaning back in his chair with wide eyes. “The human biotech giant? What did they want with her?”

Twilight shot him an annoyed look, one that said ‘please at least try and be subtle’.

“Well she refused everything they offered to sell her,” Twilight said. “Was rather furious about some of it too. Something about poisons and playing with nature. Anyway, they’ve changed tactics now, since she just got an offer from them to buy some of her trees, in exchange for a rather generous sum of money. Apparently Monsanto thinks that their scientists can incorporate Equestrian apple trees into the Earth counterparts and give us the best of both worlds.” She shrugged. “I’m not a biologist by any stretch of the definition, but from what I read I think it could be a very good thing if it works.”

Trying not to fidget, Daniel made a mental note to look into what exactly Monsanto was up to when he had a free moment.

“As for Pinkie,” Twilight continued, “well she’s been having a ball lately.” She nickered. ”With all the tourists Ponyville’s getting, her welcome wagon’s almost completely worn out. I’ve been trying to convince her to approach the mayor and ask to be made Ponyville’s official tourist liaison. Earn a salary and everything. Of course you know her, money was never really something she had any great love affair with. ‘What’s a bit worth of gold compared to a happy smile’ is what she keeps saying.” She shook her head. “I wouldn’t mind, but now she’s had the bright idea to try and put us on the smile standard for currency. In fact, she’s already started a petition to do just that.”

Daniel smiled. That was Pinkie Pie all right. Two years and still as zany as ever. He could still remember when Pinkie had introduced him to the welcome wagon. The contraption had spurted confetti everywhere, then flung a freshly-baked chocolate cake right to the face. It had been the tastiest thing that had ever been launched at his head.

As the the conversation continued on, Daniel slowly edged his way closer to Twilight’s nervousness. He could see Twilight’s guard begin to drop; the mask she wore relaxed slightly, tail and ears not twitching so frantically.

Then, like a hawk, he struck.

“Twi?”

Twilight looked up. “Yes, Daniel?”

Crossing his arms, Daniel frowned. “Is there something you want to tell me?”

Twilight hung her head and sighed. “I never could hide something from you,” she muttered. “I’ll be frank: Daniel, I’m worried about you.”

“Twi, if you're still worried about my health, don’t be. I’ll take that vacation, take it easy for two weeks, and I’ll be back to normal before you know it.”

“It’s not just that, Daniel. You’ve done stupid things in the past, but ever since negotiations between our worlds started, you’ve developed what I can only describe as a ‘messiah complex’. You act as though Earth is some sort of demon bent on destroying Equis, and that you’re the only one who can save us all.”

“I’m not trying to protect Equis from Earth,” Daniel said. “I’m trying to make sure the two can coexist. Twi, you’ve read about human history, so you must know about colonialism, imperialism, and all those other wonderful ‘isms’ we’re so fond of. And you know firsthoof that Equestria has its own problems: monsters, out of touch and socially irresponsible nobles, hostile races and other rainbow-hued calamities. If those two mix, both our worlds will be destroyed, or at least ruined. It’s my job to make sure that both Earth and Equestria can co-exist without one destroying the other.”

“Maybe, but you’re acting as if you are the only person who can do it,” Twilight said with a snort, flaring her wings. “Take your embassy staff, for example. You represent virtually every nation on your planet, but you barely have enough manpower to keep the place clean. You should have a veritable army of people assisting you.”

“And that’s my fault? You know that our respective governments still don’t quite trust each other. Even though the partnership has both Cellie and Luna’s blessing, a lot of Canterlot nobility still distrust us, and the UN is hesitant about adding more ponies to its payrolls than it has to.”

“And you haven’t said a word about it!” Twilight said. “In the two years since you became ambassador, you haven’t filed a single complaint about insufficient staff. Explain that! Besides, it’s the human embassy, there should be humans staffing it. The Equestrian embassy on Earth has pony staff!”

Daniel opened his mouth, then closed it. Checkmate.

Twilight’s expression softened. “Daniel, please, tell me what’s going on. If not for yourself, than at least do it for me.”

Daniel stared at the table, trying to find the right mold to pour his thoughts into.

“Twi, what do you know about the Portal?”

Twilight tilted her head. “I don’t follow, how is that relevant?”

“Just answer my question, please. What do you know about the Portal?”

“Well, only what you’ve told me, and the official reports I’ve read. I know that was old, and that many of its systems were either corrupted or inactive. When you stumbled into it in the woods, it malfunctioned and sent you to a random location in its memory banks before burning out entirely.”

Daniel raised an eyebrow. “Random? Who said it was random?”

“You think the Portal sent you to Equestria on purpose?”

“Twi, the engineers who studied that thing said that it had an archive of at least three million locations, many of them hostile. That portal could have just as easily dumped me onto an airless rock, or the center of a star. It could have dropped me in a universe with super-strong gravity, or a universe in the first few minutes of its life. But no, it sent me here, to Equis.”

Twilight shrugged. “Maybe it was a safety feature. You wouldn't build a machine like that without some sort of fail-safe.”

“True, but if that’s the case, why did it drop me in Equestria? Why not the Minotaur Republic or Imperial Griffonia? And why would it drop me in Whitetail woods, just as you and your friends were going on a walk?”

While I’m at it, what were the odds of me tripping into that portal in the first place? That thing was hidden deep in the forest and half buried in leaf litter. The odds of someone walking randomly into the woods and stumbling into it would be like dumping a crate full of dice on the floor and having each and every one of them roll a six!

“The odds are admittedly small,” Twilight said. “But it’s not impossible. Sometimes coincidences happen. That’s the way the universe works.That’s the way both our universes work.”

“This is no coincidence, Twi. Call me crazy, call me delusional, but I can’t help but feel that I was brought here for a reason. Someone wanted to make sure that humanity made contact with Equis, and that someone would be there to ensure that the relationship went relatively smoothly.”

Twilight froze. Her jaw went slack.

Daniel tensed and held out his hands. “Twi, listen, I don’t think that I’m some sort of Chosen One, destined to lead all us all to salvation or whatever. I just feel like everything that’s happened in the past few years is part of something greater than myself, like I’m an important piece of a very large, very complex machine. Without me, the machine grinds to a halt.”

Though her expression returned to something resembling normality, she still looked at him cautiously.

“Alright, let's say, for the sake of argument, that you’re right, and that you were destined to come here. That still doesn’t explain why you haven’t asked for more staff? If you really were destined to become ambassador to Equiss, why make your job any more difficult than it already is?”

Daniel rubbed his temples. “I don’t know, really. I just feel like this is something I have to do on my own. Like that if I let someone help me, they might screw it up.

Twilight held a hoof to her chin.

“Of course, why didn’t I see it before,” she mumbled to herself.

“What do you mean?” Daniel asked.

“Daniel, I think this is more than just a delusion of grandeur. Something’s bothering you, something you’re hiding from everyone, even yourself. And I think Starlight has something to do with it.”

Daniel resisted the urge to wince. “What makes you say that?”

“Daniel, what are your feelings towards Starlight?”

“Twilight, there’s no need to be coy about things. I’m sure you’ve seen and heard more than enough to reach the proper conclusion.”

“Well, I want to hear it from you.”

“Starlight...” Daniel trailed off, trying to find the right words. “Starlight’s special, Twi. She’s one of the few ponies who truly understands me. When I’m with her, I don’t have to be Ambassador Habbuck: Representative of Earth. I can just be good old Daniel Habbuck: the human.”

Twilight smiled. “Daniel, that’s really sweet. Have you told her something to that effect?”

Daniel sighed. “No.”

“Why not?” she asked. “Are you afraid that she won’t reciprocate?”

Another twitch of the ear. Twilight was definitely hiding something this time. She and Starlight had been in the hospital waiting room together. Who could say, but Daniel would bet money their Starlight’s feelings for him had come up. Twilight wasn’t one to leave stones unturned. What had been said though, he knew he wouldn’t be getting it out of her anytime soon. It was better not to push.

“No,” Daniel took a deep breath. “I’ve seen the way she looks at me. The way she acts when I’m with her. I don’t know if she loves me per se, but she definitely cares about me.”

“If that’s the case, why haven’t you told her?”

Daniel clenched his teeth. Barbed memories ripped through his mind. Swarms of “should’ve” buzzed around his head. I should’ve told them ‘no’, I should’ve made more time for us, I should‘ve paid more attention to her. I should’ve, I should’ve, I should’ve…

“I don’t know.”

Daniel felt a pang of regret, having to lie to his first pony friend, but this wasn’t something that could be discussed with Twilight. Letting her know about his unease would’ve just made things worse, more painful.

“I could write a letter to Cadance. She should be able to make an appointment for you and Starlight.”

Daniel held up a hand. “Thank you, Twi, but I’d rather you didn’t. Cadance is busy enough as it is, what with the Empire and Flurry Heart. I don't’ want to put any more on her plate than she already has.”

“Are you sure? I’m sure she wouldn’t mind.”

“I appreciate your offer, Twi, but this...whatever it is, it’s something Starlight and I need to work out by ourselves.”

Twilight’s ears drooped. “I understand.” She put a hoof to her chin. “Well, what about a trip? You could take Starlight and Slate with you.”

A small smile spread across her face. “Yes, spending a little time together might help you open up. While you do that, I’ll rendezvous with this replacement ambassador to make sure the conference goes smoothly. You don’t need to worry while I’m there, I’ll stop him from making any mistakes.”

Daniel thought for a bit. Yes, a trip. After being cooped up in Canterlot for all that time, a change of scenery would definitely help; and with Twilight on the job, he could actually forget about work for once.

“Sure, that could really do me some good! I’ve been wanting to spend a week or two in Manehatten for years now, but I’ve never had the time. Whenever I’m there it’s always meetings and fancy dinners. I haven’t even visited the Statue of Harmony.” He whipped out his smartphone. “I’d better make reservations.”

“No need,” Twilight pulled out a purple dayplanner. “I’ll take care of everything.” Before Daniel could interject, the princess held up a hoof. “I know what you’re going to say and no, it’s not too much trouble. You’re a friend. Friends help friends.”

Daniel smirked. “I thought Rarity supposed to be the generous one.”

“I may have picked up a few things from her.”

“She taught you well.” A yawn escaped him. He hadn’t realized just how tired he really was. “What time is it?”

Twilight’s horn glowed briefly, tongue sticking out from the side of her mouth. “It’s currently 11:05.”

That internal chronometer spell, she’d been over the moon when she’d figured out how to get it to work. Daniel had always been a little jealous of it, but without a horn, he’d be stuck with a watch for the foreseeable future.

“That late?” Daniel asked, stretching. “Guess I’m a more interesting conversationalist than I thought. I’d better get going.”

“Where?” said Twilight. “The next train to Canterlot isn’t until tomorrow.”

“Horseapples!” Daniel said, cursing his forgetfulness. “Well, then I’ll just check into a motel for the night.”

“Not on my watch, you aren’t.”

“Twilight, really,” Daniel interjected, performing the false-refusal ritual good manners demanded. “I’ll be fine. I wouldn’t want to be a burden”

“Well, I could always hire another flying carriage.”

Daniel’s stomach did a loop de loop. “Well, if you insist.”

Twilight gave one of her ‘I thought so’ grins. “It’d be my pleasure.”

“Well, goodnight Twi. I’ll see you tomorrow!”

“Goodnight Daniel,” Twilight said. “If you see Luna, tell her I said ‘hi’!”

Daniel started off towards the guest room. It hadn’t been the first time he’d spent the night there. He just hoped that Twilight had gotten around to fixing that lump in the mattress.

“Oh, Daniel,” Twilight said, trotting over to him. “One more thing.”

Daniel stopped. “What is it, Twi?”

“About Starlight,” Twilight trotted over to Daniel, reared up on her hind legs, and hugged him. “Don't let her go.”