The Campaign for Extra Trixie, and other unlikely experiments

by Impossible Numbers

Time Out Daring

With outstretched wings, the pegasus landed on the moist grass and tried to ignore the tingle when the mud oozed over her hooves. Under her rainproof coat, she shivered. The mare's body had taken worse punishment than oozing mud before, but while she had the butterflies fluttering in her stomach, even the merest chill felt like a stab with an icicle.

A thick mist surrounded her. In the distance, she could just make out the shadows of cottages and knew she was on the border of the town. One cottage stood a little apart from the others; a traditional wattle-and-daub affair with flower baskets either side of the front door. Glancing around nervously, the hooded figure braced herself against a wet gale, feeling the cool slap of the coat against her hocks, and trudged over the turf.

Both wings folded up along her body. She wanted to tuck them under her coat, but the rainproof had the tightest of holes - just enough to let the wings poke through when being worn - and so she had to hope that the tan colour of her feathers wouldn't give her away. She drew the hood tighter over her head, trying not to draw attention to the dark strands that spiked from her fringe.

All around her, the downpour strained and drummed against the soil, churning the grass and the mud to a thick mulch as though the weather bore a grudge against hard earth. Wind shears sliced left and right, pulling at the pegasus' coat one way, tugging its folds elsewhere when she moved on. Her hood flapped and billowed in the face of an eddy, and under the skirmishes of raindrops and rushing fog, dew flecked the mare's muzzle and chin, giving her cheeks and the bridge of her nose a glittery, freckled look.

The mare's hood blew off her head suddenly. Daring Do's look of panic flashed like lightning across her face. She pulled the hood over her head quickly, and began shooting worried looks around the fog. She was sure she could hear voices.

Eventually, she stepped onto the welcome mat, smothering the flowery letters stitched on the top. Even now, Daring Do found herself scraping her back hoof against the scraggly mat. She wished she could give up the habit, but tell-tale fidgeting stuck with a pony for life, like having bad breath or weak knees. To her embarrassment, she hesitated for a moment before raising a hoof and knocking on the timber door.

It was hard to tell over the patter and clatter of the tapping rain, but she thought she heard a muffled voice from inside the cottage. Daring willed her back leg to behave, and it stopped pawing the rugged fabric, though she still felt the urge. It was annoying. She couldn't concentrate on what she was going to do. What would she say? It was easier just to say something simple, but she was the older sister. She was supposed to take charge, she knew it.

She had the most exciting job in the world. There must be reams of anecdotes she could call up at a moment's notice. Yet her mind, like the fog surrounding it, stayed stubbornly dull. Hoofsteps were coming. Somepony would be at the door soon. Daring willed herself to relax as she heard the latch clunk.

Under an untidy fringe of blond hairs, one eye peered out from behind the front door. At least, it appeared to be looking for her; it was pointing slightly away from Daring Do and seemed fascinated by something over her left shoulder. The other eye peeped out, this time really pointing at her.

The door flung open and a grey mare stood in the doorway, mouth wide with surprise and joy. A warm orange light behind her cast her smile in shade.

"Big sis!" she exclaimed. "You came home!"

Daring Do threw back her hood and shook her slightly-sodden mane out, giving her sister her trademark grin and a lot of awkwardly spiked hair. "Hey, Ditzy! You'll never guess how much I've been looking forward to this visit."

"I got your letter." Ditzy Do held up an envelope in her hoof, clenched between her pastern and frog. "I never thought you'd make time. You always used to write about how you were so busy."

"Well, after all I'd done for the curator at the museum," said Daring, "I was overdue some time off anyway." She smiled, showing more warmth than her usual grin could achieve. "It's good to see you again, little sis."

A shriek of laughter jumped out from behind her. Daring's ears stiffened with a sudden rictus of fright and she hastily shoved the hood over her head just as a patter of hooves approached through the fog. Somepony was galloping past the cottage - no, two ponies were galloping past; she could make out two rhythms of hoofsteps - and when Daring peeked back, she saw two mares rushing by without any protection against the elements. Splashes of water flared as they rushed over a puddle, and then they continued their race into the fog and faded out of sight.

Daring's heart was still beating frantically against her chest as Ditzy ushered her indoors. She hung her head, dripping all over the exposed floorboards. This wasn't how an elder sister was supposed to behave, and she knew it.

Ditzy shut the rain out, and the clank of the lock was a guillotine on Daring's link to the outside world. She raised her head again and threw back the hood. Ditzy ambled past her, trying to make her own googly eyes focus on her sister.

"Are you all right, big sis?"

"I'm fine, it's just..." Daring said. By hoof, she eased her wings through the holes and let the coat flop to the floor. Before she could pick it up, Ditzy immediately beat her to it and hung the coat onto the hat stand. Daring took a steadying breath. "I like my quiet time with my family. And I mean just with my family."

Ditzy looked at her sister with some concern. "Were you avoiding those mares back there?"

"No. I mean, kinda. Well, it's a little hard to explain." She thought she heard a creak upstairs. A cold sweat broke out all over her body. "There isn't anypony else in the house, is there?" she asked sharply.

"No, there isn't. It's just us two in here tonight." As Ditzy spoke, Daring could hear the confusion hovering over each word. "Why? You're not in trouble are you?"

"Of course not!" After a while, her rather cynical memory caught up with her. "Well, no more than usual, as my kind of work goes. But it's nothing like that, I promise you."

Warmth began to seep into her moist fur. Despite the puddle that was forming underneath her, Daring still felt soaked to the bone, but now her skin felt the pressure easing off like droplets running down a windowpane. Ditzy's wings flapped a small breeze over her as the younger mare hovered nearby.

Ditzy smiled. "Your work is going very well, isn't it?"

"My work?" Daring gave a weak chuckle, hoping to reassure her sister. "Um. Oh, yeah. It's going very... very well, thanks. Just came back from the South Amaponian, in fact. I had to deliver the latest artefact to the museum in Canterlot. And you'll never guess what we found: the lost codex of the Ahuizotlian tribes! For the first time in pony history, we have an accurate account of what happened during the early years of its civilization. I came back to Canterlot with it to help decipher the Aztecoglyphs -"

"The South Amaponian? That's swell! I bet you've got lots of stuff to tell me! You've got the best job in the world, sis."

Daring's enthusiasm vanished. "Yeah. It's... good."

Ditzy landed beside her now-blow-dried elder sister. In the confines of the hall, stuck between the stairs and the wall, Daring could easily smell the concern radiating from her flanks. It was a smell she'd been starved of for months, though the much stronger stench of fear was more familiar to her. It's amazing what a pony could pick up through their nose.

"What's wrong?" said Ditzy.

"I couldn't do my studies," said Daring, and she looked squarely at her sister's face.

Daring's eyes were slightly bloodshot, and she knew from Ditzy's expression that the bags underneath them must be obvious, but the flicker of discomfort she saw still bothered her. I really do look that bad, don't I?

"It's been going on for a while. I didn't realize things would be so stressful. All the attention, all those eyes fixed on me, crowd after crowd every time I step outside the museum. Every time I come back to Canterlot, I get hounded for autographs. I can't even go to Doughnut Joe's any more without somepony I've never met trying to get chummy with me. And you know I don't like that sort of attention."

She tried her best to smile, but she knew the tired eyes would ruin the effect. Ditzy put a hoof to her mouth.

"But I thought you wanted to be famous?" she asked.

Daring had heard this once too often, and to hear it from her sister... She groaned into her hoof. "Oh, Ditzy, not you too."

"What? What's wrong?"

"Ditzy, don't you know me better than that?" she pleaded. "You're my sister, for heaven's sake. All I really need right now is a bit of time where I'm not the famous adventurer everypony knows. Just a few hours with you would do me a world of good."

Ditzy gestured towards the kitchen. "Do you want to talk? I'll make some tea."

Daring winced as her sister bumped into the frame around the door. Carefully, as though nervous the woodwork would leap out at her, Ditzy walked around the frame and slipped into the kitchen. Same old Ditzy, she thought, but it was a comforting thought. Maybe, even after all this time, little sis was still there, and hadn't stopped being the filly she'd known. She needed old Ditzy.

With a sigh, she ambled for the warmth of the kitchen. "A drink would be great."