Sunset in Ponyville

by Fangren

First Impressions - The Start of a Bad Day

Dear Diary,

Well, I finally found time got a break from all my research and, uh, 'adventures' I guess with my friends, which means I can't really put it off any more. It's time for my Pinkie story, aka the lead-up to the first big argument between me and Twilight.

Well, since coming to Ponyville at least. I... kinda lost count of how many big arguments we had back in Canterlot, especially before we became friends. But those don't really matter right now.

What matters is... that it was our first big argument since the move. Duh. But I'm getting ahead of myself – I gotta tell the Pinkie story for the rest of it to make sense, I think. Unless I'm overthinking it

Anyway. Pinkie. The Element of Laughter. As you can probably tell by now, back then I just didn't want anything to do with the mare. She was annoying, plain and simple. But, unfortunately, I didn't always have a choice in the matter – Pinkie did as Pinkie pleased, and the ponies around her just had to live with it.

But sometimes? Sometimes her being around was my own stupid fault. Guess how this story starts...

---

“I'm sorry, she can do what?”

Sunset stood, eyes wide and mouth ever-so-slightly agape with shock, watching Twilight as she went about making her breakfast.

“Predict the future,” Twilight answered as calmly as if she were reciting the weather forecast. She spread some raspberry preserves on a piece of toast, and set it down on her plate.

“Pinkie Pie.”

“Mm-hmm.”

“Can predict the future.”

“That's what I said,” Twilight said, finishing another piece of toast. “I know it's hard to believe,” she continued, levitating her plate and turning toward the table. “I know I was pretty skeptical when I first learned about it.“

“Tell me about it,” Spike joked, eating a bowl of cereal he'd garnished with a few small gems.

Twilight rolled her eyes. “But,” she said emphatically, looking back at Sunset, “I've already investigated it, and I've come to the conclusion that it's true.”

“But... but how?” Sunset stammered, and for good reason. Prophecies were... rare, to put it mildly, and were only known to come to unicorns. She didn't (yet) know of any spells that could possibly let a pony see even a glimpse of what was to come, and the only artifact she knew of that could do such a thing was currently locked up in the basement. And even the mirror was vague, and far from set in stone. So the idea that some random earth pony, even the destined bearer of an Element of Harmony, could somehow see the future was completely preposterous.

The shrug Twilight gave in response didn't help things. “I was never able to figure out how, unfortunately,” she explained, “but she does experience a variety of body tics which accurately predict imminent phenomena. That much I know for sure.” She took a bite of her toast, and smiled. “Mmm! Tasty!”

“...wait, 'body tics'?” Sunset asked once her brain had caught up. “What do you mean?”

“She calls it her 'Pinkie Sense',” Spike helpfully supplied. “It's just, like, twitches and stuff that tell her when stuff is about to happen. Doors opening, stuff falling out of the sky, that sort of thing.”

“Really?” Sunset asked, screwing up her muzzle as she tried to think back to all her interactions with the mare in question over the past several weeks. “I don't remember her doing anything like that...”

Spike shrugged, taking a scoop of cereal with a big chunk of topaz on top. “It's pretty unpredictable,” he said. He shoved his spoon into his mouth, adding, “Just like Pinkie!”

“It's a minor precognitive ability that only occurs in Pinkie,” Twilight explained. “It's not the sort of thing you really notice unless you spend a lot of time around her. I mean,” she laughed, “even when I was following her around specifically to investigate it, it would often be hours between instances, and those instances would usually only last a couple of seconds!”

“Huh,” said Sunset, turning her focus to her own toast. A minor precognitive sense wasn't what she'd expected from the words 'predict the future', but it was technically accurate. And still unprecedented, as far as Sunset was concerned. If she was interpreting her friends' explanation right, anyway. She trusted Twilight's judgment that the phenomenon was real, even if she was having trouble seeing how it wasn't just an example of a pony with extraordinary normal senses and, perhaps, a good intuition for pattern recognition. She presumed there must be other, more fantastical things that Pinkie was able to predict than simply something falling or a door opening.

“So, what sort of things can she predict?” Sunset asked on a whim. “And how far in advance? Is it only stuff nearby, or can she predict things further away?”

“Why do you want to know?” Twilight replied, brow raised. “Are you interested in studying it yourself? Because I'm fairly confident I was thorough in my own investigation.”

That gave Sunset pause: did she want to research this? For as much as Twilight was confident in her own research, Sunset was confident that hers would be more thorough. Her best friend was at home in libraries and could make just about anything work in a carefully controlled laboratory environment, but actually taking notes in the field was another beast entirely. Sunset could easily see Twilight getting distracted or focusing on the wrong things, especially if – as she suspected – she was more intent on proving the phenomenon false than anything else.

So it was that, with a shrug, she answered, “Maybe. If nothing else it'll get me out of the basement for a little while. I could use some exercise.”

To her annoyance, Spike chuckled. “I'll say.”

She stared him down for a second, then looked away. “Anyway, if you have any notes I'd be glad to look them over beforehoof.”

“I'll see if I can find them after breakfast,” Twilight told her, taking a sip of tea.

---

It didn't take very long at all for Twilight to find the notebook in question, as fastidiously organized as she was. Actually making sense of them took longer, but that's why Sunset made sure to retire to her lab first. What should have been mostly just a list of observations was padded by far too much commentary from Twilight, and of a far too critical nature as well. It became clear to Sunset that her friend really had been focused more on disproving the 'Pinkie Sense' than simply observing it as she should have.

Twilight hadn't even bothered listing all the different twitch-event pairs that she knew of, which would only make Sunset's job more complicated. She could at least glean some of them from the notes, but it was also clear that there were several that Twilight simply hadn't known about at the start of her study. Which was honestly a major oversight on her part.

Of course, getting the complete list of pairs (including the ones involving combinations of twitches, which were apparently a thing) would require asking Pinkie for them, so Sunset decided to cut her friend a little bit of slack. Sunset wouldn't have wanted to do that either. Although she would have to, if she actually wanted to do the study right.

“Do I really wanna spend half the day following Pinkie around, though?” Sunset asked herself in the privacy of her own lab. “Not really,” she decided immediately, and picked up Twilight's notes with every intent of returning them and shelving the matter entirely.

But...

A part of her really did want to know how and why Pinkie had her special 'Sense'. Not just because she didn't like leaving questions unanswered, but because she genuinely got the feeling there was some kind of magical breakthrough involved as well. If nothing else, if she studied it enough to figure out how it worked, then she might be able to replicate it in a spell or even an enchantment... And that was appealing.

So, placing Twilight's notes back down on her desk, Sunset set about transferring a partial list of 'Sense' twitches and combos to a field notebook of her own. Then she worked out a preliminary procedure for the observation period, including what she needed to do as prepwork and how she would write everything down, and once that was finished to her satisfaction she grabbed her saddlebags. In went her field notebook and an old pocket watch she could use to get a semi-accurate time for each observation and event. Also, her binoculars. And a pen, couldn't forget that.

That was probably all she needed, she decided. Once everything was packed and secure, she returned Twilight's notes and bid her farewell. She took a deep breath before leaving the library, hoping she wouldn't regret doing this.

---

It didn't take long for Sunset to run into her first problem: she didn't actually know where Pinkie was. She knew the mare at least nominally worked at Sugarcube Corner, but had seen her in enough odd places at odd times for odd reasons to put no stock in her having any consistent schedule. Which meant she had a lot more walking to do than she'd first expected.

Still, she decided to check Pinkie's place of work first – if anypony knew where she was, Sunset reasoned, it would be the Cakes. And, since the shortest route there used one of the town's main thoroughfares, there was a decent chance she'd be able to spot Pinkie's unmissably bright self in the crowds.

As it happened, though, she didn't. She saw Rarity, as well as Bulk Biceps, but neither of them had any idea where Pinkie was.

“If I know her, however,” Rarity offered, “then I expect she's busy planning something.”

“Planning what?” Sunset asked.

“A party, if we're lucky...,” was the answer, Rarity casting her eyes down at the carrots she was perusing. “But if there's none in her immediate schedule, then she'll undoubtedly be trying to make her own fun. And who knows what that might involve...”

With those ominous words echoing in the back of her mind, Sunset moved on to Sugarcube Corner. When she finally arrived she found it mostly empty with only a few customers; a cream-colored unicorn mare with a shocking blue-and-cyan mane and strange purple-lensed glasses walked out of the store carrying a pie just as Sunset entered, and two other ponies were milling about inside.

Mrs. Cake was at the counter, to no surprise – her twins were due any week now, so she could hardly do much else at the store.

“Good morning, Sunset,” she greeted warmly. “What can I get for you?”

“Actually, I was wondering if you knew where Pinkie was,” Sunset answered, provoking a perplexed look from the older mare. “I need to ask her a few things.”

“Isn't she right there behind you?” Mrs. Cake asked, looking just to Sunset's right.

Sunset froze in surprise, blinked, and looked behind her.

Pinkie was there, beaming. She waved. “Hi Sunset!”

It took longer than Sunset would normally admit to recover. “...Pinkie, how long have you been there?” were the first words she managed to say.

“Oh, I followed you in,” Pinkie answered chipperly. “In fact,” she giggled, “I've been following you for awhile!”

Sunset stared, dumbfounded. How could she have possibly missed Pinkie following her? And more importantly, “Why?”

She giggled again. “Because I wanted to, silly! You still haven't told me a lot about what you like, so I figured if I followed you around, then maybe I'd get to see what you like!”

Sunset face-hoofed. “The worst part is that it almost makes sense...,” she muttered to herself, before realizing she'd said it aloud. “Uh, what I mean is,” she said quickly while Pinkie still had an innocently blank look on her face, “I've actually been looking for you.”

“Really? Why?” Pinkie asked, but before Sunset could answer she gasped excitedly. “Oooh! Are you finally gonna tell me what your favorite dessert is?”

“Uh... no...,” Sunset admitted, averting her gaze for just a moment. “I was actually wondering about your 'Pinkie Sense'.”

Unexpectedly, Pinkie froze – but it didn't take long to figure out why. First her ears flopped, then her eyes fluttered, then her knees twitched, and with a gasp she darted away from the front door just before it was slammed open.

“I need ten cupcakes, stat! It's an emergency!” said the earth mare who promptly rushed in, shoving past Sunset to get to the counter.

Sunset shot her an unseen glare, and walked over to Pinkie. “So, I take it that was your 'Pinkie Sense' in action?”

“Yup-a-rooni!” Pinkie chirped. “Can I take it that Twilight told you about it?” she asked, before suddenly frowning in thought. “Or was it Spike...”

“It was Twilight,” Sunset answered, not wanting to waste any more time talking to Pinkie than was necessary. “Anyway, I was wondering if you'd be fine with me studying it for a little bit.”

“Why? Do you not believe it's real, like Twilight did before she did believe it was real? Because that was totally unexpected.”

Sunset blinked. “Uh, no, not exactly,” she said, hurrying to make sense of it. “I just... wanted to try and get a better understanding of how it works. That's all.”

To her shock and growing horror, Pinkie's eyes went sparklingly wide and an unnerving grin formed on her face. “You wanna know more about me!” she squealed excitedly. “It's like a dream come true!” She finished with a hug, glomming onto Sunset in a startlingly swift fashion.

“Uh, n-not...,” Sunset struggled to say against the tightness of Pinkie's misplaced affection. Eventually, she had to resort to pulling out her notebook and levitating it against the pink one's muzzle – not forcefully enough to hurt her, just to pry her off.

“It's not... really like that,” she said once she had the room to breathe. “I'm just doing some research, that's all.”

“That's okay,” Pinkie replied, unexpectedly happy. “Even if it's only research, you're still taking an interest in a friend. And what more could a friend ask for?”

Sunset had no genuine idea how to answer that. She had expected disappointment from Pinkie, not... whatever this was. Although she wasn't going to argue with not having to placate her.

“Good... point...?” she ventured, even adding a hasty smile; it seemed to work, as Pinkie let her go. “Anyway, I figured I should start off by getting a complete list of what your 'Pinkie Sense' covers. You know, all the little twitches and things and what they all mean.” She held up her notebook, opened to the partial list so Pinkie could see. “I already have all the ones Twilight knew, but I get the feeling that there's a lot more she never saw.”

“Ooooh...,” was all Pinkie said, practically gluing her eyes to the page.

---

Two hours.

Two.

Hours.

That was how long Sunset stood in Sugarcube Corner, listening to Pinkie go on and on about all the little details of her super-special sense. The meaning of each and every one of her hundred or so twitches and combos, of course, but also how she'd discovered each and every one of them. She spoke so fast at times and her explanations were so meandering and complicated that Sunset struggled to keep up with the flow of information, and she gave in to Mrs. Cake's suggestion that they take a seat at one of the tables after only the third time she brought it up.

But, eventually, Sunset managed to pick out all of what she needed from Pinkie's stream of half-remembered anecdotes and unbelievable foalhood stories (what in the world was a rock farm?) to form a complete list of Pinkie's predictive quirks. She breathed a heavy sigh of relief once it was over.

“Okay, now I guess I just have to... see them in action!” she announced, turning expectantly to Pinkie.

Pinkie stared back, a smile on her face. This continued for over a minute.

“Uh... aren't you going to go do something?” Sunset hesitantly asked. “I can't really research your Pinkie Sense if you don't go about your day.”

“Oh, sorry, I thought we were having a staring contest,” Pinkie giggled.

“We're... not...,” Sunset told her, face falling.

And even then, Pinkie didn't budge. “Okay, seriously, what are you doing?” Sunset asked, deadpan.

Pinkie giggled. Again. “I'm going about my day, silly!”

“What, you're just gonna... sit around here all day?” Sunset asked, waving an incredulous hoof around at the interior of the bakery. “Don't you have any plans or something?”

“Of course I do!”

“Yeah? What?”

“Follow you around, of course!” Pinkie answered, booping Sunset on the muzzle.

Somehow, Sunset's face fell even more. “So what you're saying is,” she said, “I'm trying to watch you,” Pinkie nodded, “while you're trying to watch me.” Pinkie nodded some more. “Do you see the problem with this?”

Pinkie blinked, then frowned thoughtfully. “Huh. Come to think of it, you're right. If I'm following you and you're following me,” she said, gesticulating unnecessarily, “then we're just gonna keep on following each other in circles and never go anywhere!” Forelegs successfully wrapped around herself and eyes spinning, Pinkie's next move was to fall over.

Sunset face-hoofed. “Yeah. Pretty much just that.”

“Bu~ut!” Pinkie said, recovering quickly. “I know how to fix it!”

“You do?” Sunset asked with healthy skepticism.

“Uh-huh!” she nodded. “It's easy! We just have to go somewhere else! That way, we can hang out and you can do your research! It'll be perfect!”

“Uh... huh...,” Sunset said slowly. It was, technically, a feasible idea, but she had been hoping for a little more distance for her observations. She considered calling the study off for the time being; she had the list of twitches and quirks now, so she could easily just switch to a more long-term plan and observe Pinkie off and on over the course of several weeks, or even months. It would probably be a bit more of a hassle, having to carry her notebook and stopwatch with her whenever she was going to be around Pinkie, but it would give her a greater variety of sampling conditions should she decide that weather was a factor. And it would allow her to control for the effects of her own presence – not perfectly, of course, but it would be better than trying to observe Pinkie while also hanging out with her.

“Maybe we should just—“ she began to say, before Pinkie interrupted.

“Go for a walk around Ponyville? That sounds like a great idea, Sunset!” And before Sunset could put up much of a protest, Pinkie was dragging her outside – after bidding an enthusiastic goodbye to Mrs. Cake and everypony else in Sugarcube Corner first, of course.

---

“Seriously, we don't have to do this right now,” Sunset tried to explain as they walked down Main Street, the direction having been chosen by Pinkie seemingly at random. “I can do my research another time!”

“Really? Then why did you ask me to do it today?” Pinkie replied, entirely innocent in her tone.

Sunset fumbled with her answer. Inside, she was screaming that she was an idiot and should never have ever even implied she wanted more than just the list of twitches, but thankfully she had enough self-restraint not to blurt it out. The same went for another truth of the matter, that being around Pinkie this long had already strained her nerves, and she felt like remaining in the company of her and nopony else was liable to make her go crazy.

“I just... just...,” Sunset stammered, “wasn't thinking about all the stuff that we both obviously have to do!”

That just earned a giggle in response. “That's silly. I already told you, I wasn't gonna do anything besides follow you around today. And I may not know all your favorite flavors yet, but I do know that you and Twilight are organized. And organized ponies never do something unless they're sure they have the time.”

There were... so many problems with that. For one, all her organization and schedules sure had never really stopped Twilight from rescheduling everything on a whim whenever something new came up. And also, Sunset didn't really consider herself that organized in the first place. In fact, ever since she'd moved to Ponyville and thus become free of the routine of Princess Celestia's direct tutelage, Sunset had mostly just been deciding what to do each day the night before. If that. Sometimes it just slipped her mind to do so; other times – as had been the case last night – she'd finished an experiment, and then not been sure what to do next.

But how could she explain all that to Pinkie? She should really just lie and say she'd forgotten about something she needed to do, maybe something she needed to help Twilight with. But then what if Pinkie decided that she wanted to help out too? Or even just decided to stop by later to see how they were doing? That would just catch Sunset in her lie, which would upset Twilight, which was obviously bad.

She couldn't afford to let Twilight know how little she cared for her friends. It had become more than tiring, having to constantly hide her disinterest in them, but slipping up risked alienating the one pony she cared about in town. Sunset had had a taste of being alone and had rejected it at the first opportunity; she wasn't going to go back now. She would continue to tolerate the five to the best of her abilities, no matter how dull or annoying they were. Twilight would not have to choose between her and them, and Sunset would not be forced to move her entire life back to Canterlot when she was inevitably cast aside.

Of course, none of that really had much to do with the poofy pink problem that was in front of her right now, and Sunset chided herself for letting her mind wander.

“Helloooo~?” Pinkie called, waving a hoof in front of Sunset's eyes. “Are you still in there, Sunset Shimmer?”

Sunset cleared her mind with a quick shake, then said, “Yeah, sorry. I was just...,” her thoughts stumbled again, “thinking... about... how I'm really not that organized?” As it always did, Sunset's skill at thinking quickly did her proud – she'd made herself an opening. “In fact, I'm pretty much a mess compared to Twilight! Which is why I only just remembered I had something I was totally meaning to do today. Sorry.”

“Oh. Okay,” Pinkie said, surprisingly calm. “So what did you have to do?” she then asked, to Sunset's dismay. “Maybe I can help you with it!”

Naturally, Sunset's thought process came to a brief but screeching halt, then broke back out into a full gallop. “Uhh, I wanted... to... uh, check... my compass!” That was sure to work, she thought – the Lotus Compass was a stubborn enigma, and she'd have to try and watch its needle again sometime.

There was a problem, though. One that Sunset really should have foreseen.

Pinkie didn't know about the Lotus Compass.

The two mares spent a silent moment staring at one another, Sunset putting on a winning smile while Pinkie's brow quirked up. “Compass? Why would you need to check one of those? Did the directions all switch around or something, so that north is west and east is south-by-south-south?”

“Uhh...,” was the only word Sunset could get in before she continued.

“Cause if I didn't know any better,” Pinkie said, eyes narrowing, “I'd say that was just a bad excuse to get me to leave you alone!” Sunset's heart practically stopped at the accusation, but she was given no opportunity to defend herself. “But that must mean that...”

Pinkie paused, a thoughtful look flashing on her face. Then she gasped, so dramatically that ponies passing by stared at her.

And then, to Sunset's complete and utter surprise, she put on a mischievous grin. “Oh, I get it now,” she declared. “You just wanted to do your research from a distance, didn't you? That must be it, cause that's how Twilight did it! And if one super-smart unicorn wanted to do it that way, then it only makes sense that another super-smart unicorn would wanna do it that way too!”

Before Pinkie's bright eyes and friendly smile, Sunset's frazzled brain could only muster a weak, “Yup.” Somehow, things had taken a sharp turn back onto the track she'd wanted to be on to begin with, and Sunset didn't want to question it.

“Well, why didn't you just tell me?” Pinkie giggled, and Sunset fought the urge to groan.

---

With that, Sunset's half-formed whim of a plan for the day had finally reached the stage she'd wanted it to be in hours ago. She was now trailing several building-lengths behind Pinkie as she took a walk about town, making sure to keep to positions of cover as much as possible while still keeping the mare in sights. Pinkie had been strangely fine with the arrangement despite her professed desire to spend the time getting to know Sunset better; she could only presume that Pinkie in some strange way saw the study as a way for them to bond, even with the physical distance between them.

It felt like forever before her 'Pinkie Sense' finally went off, though, but fortunately Sunset was ready when it did. She saw Pinkie through her binoculars stop suddenly in mid-bounce, her eyes fluttering. And, sure enough, a pair of colts came out of a nearby house and raced by her not long after – 6 seconds to be precise, according to Sunset's watch. She eagerly jotted the observation down in her journal, and consulted the list to find that the predicted event did in fact line up with the observed twitch.

Then she looked back up at Pinkie, and gave a start when she found the mare staring back – from only about six inches away.

“Did you see? Did you see? Huh? Huh? Huh?” she asked excitedly, smiling widely.

“Err, yeah, I did,” Sunset answered once she realized what Pinkie was asking.

“So? What do you think?” she immediately followed up with.

Sunset's eyes darted to her notebook, vaguely wondering if Pinkie had seriously expected her to glean more information from a single point of data than was feasibly possible. “It's... certainly something,” she decided to say, not sure what else to tell her.

Pinkie seemed satisfied, based on her squeal. “I know! It's the something-est something that's ever something-ed!”

“...right...,” Sunset said, questioning her plan for the day yet again. “You know you don't have to check in with me every time your Pinkie Sense goes off, right?”

“Oh, I know,” Pinkie replied, waving a hoof dismissively. “But why wouldn't I want to see what my friend thinks about what I can do?”

Sunset had no answer to that.

---

Eventually Pinkie darted away, eager to continue their little 'game', leaving Sunset to continue with her research. Or try to, anyway – she quickly realized that Twilight hadn't been kidding about the long wait between instances of the Pinkie Sense going off, though fortunately her second one (a knee twitch-shoulder ache-tail twitch combo that apparently heralded an exceptionally strong wind, which was proven six seconds later when the wake of a speeding Rainbow Dash nearly tore her notebook from her magical grip) came less than an hour after the first.

Yet again, Pinkie took it upon herself to regroup with Sunset and ask her for her thoughts. And just like last time, Sunset didn't really have any – two data points hardly showed a trend. But Pinkie wasn't dismayed, and Sunset wasn't ready to stop no matter how tedious things had gotten.

She did want to stop for a lunch break, though. But that posed a problem – Pinkie was sure to want to join her, and Sunset could honestly say she didn't want her to. Going their separate ways would mean potentially missing a Sense activation, yes, but the short bursts of conversation throughout the morning had given her her fill of Pinkie for the time being. She didn't want to imagine how annoying it would be to try and spend an entire meal with only her for company.

But how could she get away from her? She couldn't just claim to be satisfied with the data she had, not when she'd already said it wasn't enough. And she could hardly just sneak off unannounced, either, not when Pinkie knew she was following her. Which basically left her with lying. And while she knew she could easily convince the gullible mare to leave her be for half an hour, she would have to be careful about where she actually ate lest her lie be seen through, or worse, reach the ears of Twilight. So with Pinkie chatting with some random pegasus she knew and seemingly unaware of anything else, Sunset took a chance on brainstorming excuses she could use without risk.

She'd barely dismissed the first one before she caught Pinkie freezing up out of the corner of her eye. Fearing that she was about to miss an observation her mind frantically switched gears, binoculars brought back to her eyes and pocket watch ready to be consulted.

The twitch never came. Sure, Pinkie looked down at her chest, or perhaps her forehooves, for a second, but there was no other obvious movement and certainly nothing of note that came just after. Instead, Pinkie just donned a happy smile, turned, and jauntily walked back towards Sunset.

“What was that about?” Sunset asked once she was close enough. “I didn't quite see what kind of twitch you experienced.”

“Huh? Oh, that was just my tummy getting all grumbly,” Pinkie answered.

“Really? What does that mean?” Sunset replied, furrowing her brow and consulting her notes for the sign she couldn't recall.

Pinkie giggled. “A grumbly tummy isn't my Pinkie Sense, silly! It just means it's lunchtime,” she said, and Sunset flushed as she realized her mistaken assumption. “Well, teeeechnically it means I'm hungry,” Pinkie quickly clarified, “but it's around the middle of the day, so that means it means it's time for lunch!”

Sunset stared at Pinkie. Pinkie stared back. “So, wanna go grab some lunch?” Pinkie asked.

“S-sure?” Sunset answered without thinking, cursing herself the moment her unwanted companion grinned.

“Awesome! I know just the place...”

“Great...,” Sunset groaned as she let herself be dragged off down the street.

---

Several minutes and several blocks later, they arrived at Pinkie's choice of restaurant: GT's Fryery. It wasn't exactly Sunset's usual fare, but the day wasn't hot enough to dissuade her in the face of good smells and open-air seating. They had no trouble getting seated, and Sunset settled in for an awkward meal.

“So, what are you thinkin'?” Pinkie asked, perusing the menu she'd been given.

“Uh, I don't know...,” Sunset answered truthfully, picking up her menu as well.

“Personally, I'd suggest the deep fried carrot,” Pinkie said. “It's really good. Oh!” Her gaze darted to another section of the menu. “But the deep fried pickles are really good too! Ooh! And the corn fritters! And the corn-on-the-cob! And the corn off the cob!”

Sunset allowed herself a small laugh. “You know, I kinda expected you to go for the sweet stuff first.” Her eyes turned to the deserts section. “Fried doughnuts, fried berry fritters, fried... candy bars?” She did a double-take at that last entry, but sure enough it was offered.

Pinkie giggled. “Those are all good too. In fact, I could really go for a fried doughnut right now! But sometimes,” she said sagely, “it's okay to have something that isn't super sweet.”

“You don't say...,” Sunset replied with a dry smile.

“Uh-huh!” she nodded. “In fact, back home we hardly ever ate anything sweet!”

“Right...” For a moment, Sunset wondered if she was going to launch into another unbelievable anecdote about her foalhood home. Luckily, though, she seemed too preoccupied with the menu.

When it came time to order, Sunset opted for a deep fried carrot with some corn fritters on the side. And, once she was done, Pinkie placed her own order: a fried corn cob, some hush-puppies, and, of course, two fried doughnuts. Their waiter didn't even blink, and Sunset wondered if Pinkie was a regular. Or perhaps fried doughnuts were just that popular? Sunset didn't know.

And, she reminded herself, she didn't really care either. The eating habits of other ponies were none of her concern, Pinkie's especially. Though she was a little grossed out by the enthusiasm with which Pinkie proceeded to eat.

Fixing her eyes on her own food and trying to ignore her companion as much as possible, Sunset decided her best course of action was to eat as speedily as reasonably possible.

“Why, if it isn't Sunset Shimmer!”

Be it fate or coincidence, she was unable to so much as bite into her carrot without interruption. Her annoyance at this shot up even more when she looked to the side and identified the new arrival as another pony she didn't want to be around: Time Turner.

“Oh no...,” she mumbled without thinking, though nopony seemed to hear her.

“And Miss Pie, as well,” Turner added as he walked over. “Wasn't expecting to see the two of you sharing a meal together.”

“Why not?” Pinkie asked, causing Sunset to freeze up thinking of all the ways Time Turner could possibly answer that would make her look bad.

“Well, I didn't think your tastes in food would be all that similar,” was the answer Turner gave as though it were the most innocent thing in the world.

It made Pinkie giggle, at least. “Why should that matter? Just being friends is enough to bring anypony together.”

Turner smiled and nodded. “Well said.”

He only gave Sunset the slightest of looks, and without missing a beat Pinkie asked, “Would you like to join us?”

“Why, certainly!” came the reply, the words sinking straight to the bottom of Sunset's stomach and sitting their like heavy weight. She could muster no words of protest as Time Turner took a seat between the two and picked up a menu that had been left behind. “My my, they certainly do have quite the assortment, don't they?”

That earned another giggle from Pinkie. “I know! Isn't it awesome?”

“Well, I'm certainly awed,” Turner said, turning a page with his hoof. “A deep-fried candy bar, imagine that. You know, I've been working on some deep-frying technology myself.”

“Really,” Sunset deadpanned at the same time Pinkie squealed in delight.

“Ooh! Ooh! What are you gonna fry?” she asked. “Flowers? Sprinkles?” She gasped. “Cupcakes?”

Turner chuckled. “Nothing like that, I'm afraid,” he told her. “Although that does put me in the mood for some fried zucchini blossoms. But no, what I'm working on is a new method of frying. You see, the way that current deep-fryers work is to submerge the food to be fried in a considerable quantity of hot oil. Which, obviously, requires a lot of regular cleaning and maintenance, to prevent contamination and such.”

“Uh-huh,” Pinkie nodded, hanging onto every word even though Sunset thought she probably understood only half of them.

“Now, this is all dreadfully inefficient,” Time Turner continued, before being interrupted by the return of waiter, who had brought Sunset and Pinkie's drinks. “Ah, yes, my good sir, just in time. I shall have the...,” he quickly consulted the menu, “yes, the deep-fried potato salad, with a side order of onion rings, if you please.”

The waiter was silent, and glanced at Sunset. “Yeah, he's with us,” she sighed resignedly. The waiter nodded.

“Alrighty then. I'll be back in a jiffy with your order!” he replied. If nothing else, Sunset was glad they'd gotten one of Ponyville's many more casual waiters. Having to be waited on by a silently disapproving stiff while dining with a pair of oddballs would have only made lunch more unbearable.

“Now, let's see, where was I...,” Turner said once he'd left.

“Something about dread, I think?” Pinkie suggested, clearly uncertain. Sunset had to stop herself from rolling her eyes.

“Ah, yes, dreadfully inefficient,” Turner replied all the same. “Now, what I've been working on is a fryer that uses half the oil for the same effect.”

Sunset did her best to tune out the subsequent explanation, not because she didn't think she'd understand it but because she just didn't care. It was all a bunch of nonsense, anyway, based on unproven theories of magicless combustion and more than a few misunderstandings about heat magic that Sunset was nearly tempted to correct.

Instead, she tried to decide how much longer she would actually conduct her observations of Pinkie for. She didn't want to end the day with only two data points, but with an unknown amount of time between instances she couldn't exactly count on the tens of points she had foalishly expected at the start. A solid five would be a good goal to shoot for, she decided, assuming she could get them before either dinner came or her patience fully ran out. And—

“—set? Sunset, can you hear me? Is everything alright?”

The sudden sound of her name snapped Sunset back to reality, and with some embarrassment she turned her head to see both Turner and Pinkie looking at her. “Uh? Oh, uh, yeah, sorry,” she said, floundering. “Just... thinking about some stuff.”

“Perfectly understandable,” Time Turner nodded, “I get that way all the time.” Sunset doubted that on principle. “And you know, I find it always helps to discuss things with somepony trusted.”

His implicit request was so blatant it was almost sickening, but in truth Sunset didn't have anything she wanted to tell him. “It's nothing, really,” she said with a small, bland smile on her lips. “Just a few idle thoughts about my research. Nothing worth talking about.”

“Nonsense!” Turner quickly countered, slamming a hoof on the table. “There's no such thing as research that's not worth talking about!”

“Really—“ Sunset tried to say, before Pinkie interrupted with a giggle.

“I'm pretty sure she doesn't wanna say anything because she doesn't think she's found anything yet,” she said. “Which is kinda silly if you ask me.”

“Perhaps, perhaps,” Turner nodded sagely. “At any rate, it's certainly worthwhile to talk about what you're trying to find. I mean, look at me – I've barely had any success with my deep-frying experiments, and yet I've spent a great deal of time telling you all about them!”

“Hey, that's right!” Pinkie exclaimed, the sound nearly grating at Sunset's ears.

“So, what have you been researching lately, Sunset Shimmer?” Turner asked.

Pinkie giggled before she could reply. “Oh, I can answer that!” she declared, earning Turner's undivided attention. “She's been researching me! Or my Pinkie Sense, anyway.”

“Is that so?” Turner looked back at Sunset. “Looking for a mechanism, I assume?”

Sunset sighed, deciding she might as well answer. “Yeah, something like that. Although I'm only observing it right now, I don't have any hypotheses yet.”

“High-pot-a-what now?” Pinkie asked, brow raised.

“Hypotheses,” Sunset dully corrected.

“It's the plural of 'hypothesis',” Turner interjected. Sunset suppressed a groan, and tuned him out as he explained that part of standard research methodology to Pinkie Pie. Using examples.

Why he bothered, Sunset didn't know. But then again, she wasn't really the teaching type.

Turning her gaze towards the open door of GT's Fryery, Sunset tried to will their waiter into returning with Turner's food so that he would shut up. It didn't work, obviously; she would have needed a stupendous amount of magic to do so, and it would only have worked if the food was done. The waiter did, eventually, come out, though – right as Time Turner finished teaching the experimental process to Pinkie Pie.

The idea of Pinkie doing science scared her more than it should have. Sunset could only hope it didn't interfere with her own research, and decided to double-check her wards and locks once she was back in her lab.

For now, though, she concentrated on the wonderful smell of fried food, and finally dug in to her much-awaited meal. The deep-fried carrot was as delicious as she'd hoped, as were the corn fritters, but more importantly they gave her another reason to avoid conversation with Pinkie and Turner.

Not that it stopped them from trying, of course.

“Wow, you really like that carrot, don't you?” Pinkie said. “I bet you like carrot cake, too.”

“You know, Sunset, I wonder if you might like to help me with my frying project,” said Time Turner.

“On a scale of the most yummy thing in the whole wide world to totally super blech,” Pinkie asked, feigning a retch, “where would you put carrot cake? With and without frosting, if you please.”

“I'm certain your background in magic and artificery would be most invaluable” Turner continued, apparently oblivious. “Insights into thermodynamics, coefficients of heat diffusion in various materials...”

“Was that gross-y food-scarf-y noise a good gross-y food-scarf-y noise, or a bad gross-y food-scarf-y noise?”

“...engines, thaum-proofed tubing for the oil and grease, of course...”

“I'm just gonna mark it as a medium-good, okay? Okay.”

“...insulated plating, you can never have enough insulated plating...”

“Now, what about carrot cupcakes? I know, they seem like they're just miniature carrot cakes, but they totally aren't, trust me.”

“...and, obviously, advice on which oils would be most suitable for my needs!”

“You know, it's awfully hard to understand you with your mouth full, Sunset Shimmer. How am I supposed to know your feelings on carrot cake and carrot cupcakes if you never stop long enough to answer?”

“Not to mention how little you've been able to express your thoughts on my project.”

“Ooh, maybe she has been expressing her thoughts, just through eating!”

Sunset struggled not to choke at that remark.

“What, like some sort of interpretive... well, eating, I suppose?”

“Exactly!”

“Well, if that's the case then I'm afraid I'm at a loss on how interpret it all.”

“Hrmm... Well, maybe when she goes like this,” she mimed a few big, slows chews, “it means she's happy!”

“I suppose it's possible, but what if the whole thing is meant to be more, ah, metaphorical? As in, her zest for her deep-fried carrot symbolizes her enthusiasm for what we've been asking about.”

“Ooh, I like that! And maybe the way she's glaring at us right now symbolizes the harsh work we'll all have to do to meet our goals in life.”

“A fair bet, I'd say!”

They were wrong. So, so, very, annoyingly wrong. Her 'zest' in eating symbolized nothing more than her desire to ignore all other things, while her glare marked her irritation at their persistent questioning at the expense of their own meals, meaning that she would be trapped in their company for longer than was necessary.

Also she hated them. But that wasn't a metaphor so much as the running subtext of the past half-hour of her life, not that she could forgive them for missing it.

Realizing that she'd eaten her way through the entire barrier separating her and their conversation, and also as a sidenote that she was probably going to feel bad later for eating so much so quickly, Sunset forced herself to finally reply to them and to behave while doing it.

She sighed. “No, no, look. Carrot cake is fine, and I guess I haven't had enough carrot cupcakes to make an informed decision or whatever. And I'm sorry, Time Turner, but deep-frying really isn't in my area of interest. Besides, I kinda have a lot of things I'm already researching.”

“Ah, perfectly understandable,” Turner said, completely unshaken.

“Totally,” Pinkie added with a sage nod.

“Although I do wonder how you intended to convey all that simply through eating,” Time Turner added, and Sunset couldn't help but face-hoof.

“I didn't,” she said. “I was just... hungry.” It was a lie, mostly, but it was a believable one.

“Huh,” Pinkie said with a thoughtful expression. “I've never noticed you eating that fast before...”

Because they don't spend that much time together, is what Sunset wanted to say.

“But, I guess I've just never seen you this hungry before!” Pinkie soon concluded, to Sunset's unspoken relief.

“I... guess so...” she mumbled, hoping to get the subject changed quickly. To that end, she took a breath to steady herself and said, “Anyway, not to rush you two or anything, but I was kinda hoping to get back to my research.”

“Oh! Well, there's no reason you can't do that while we eat!” Pinkie said happily, finally biting in to her fried corn cob. “Mmmm, tasty! Not as hot as I'd like, though.”

“Mine as well, I'm afraid,” Turner remarked as he crunched a bite of fried potato salad.

“You don't say...,” Sunset deadpanned, resigning herself to the fact that she was trapped.

At least the two were finally eating, though. Conversation didn't slow as much as Sunset had hoped, of course, but fortunately she managed to get out of talking about her non-Pinkie Sense research by saying it would take too long to explain, and of course she didn't want to keep them from their meals since she was sure they'd have questions. Which didn't dissuade Turner so much, but she was able to stall him until something fortuitous happened.

“Oh, there you are Doc!” came the somewhat goofy voice of a wall-eyed pegasus mare, gray of coat and blonde of mane. “I've been looking all over for you!”

Sunset could vaguely recall seeing the mare about town once or twice, but nothing more. So her sudden appearance and addressing of their motley group was confusing, as was the implication that one among them was an actual Doctor – Sunset had received easily the best education in the land, but even she wasn't a Doctor of anything yet.

Bafflingly, it was Time Turner who answered. “Hmm?” he grunted, lifting his head towards the new arrival and quickly swallowing his mouthful of food. “Oh, yes, my sincerest apologies! I'm afraid I got a little waylaid by lunch with these fine young ladies here.” He motioned to Sunset and Pinkie, of course, but that was the only thing that Sunset wasn't entirely lost on. To make matters worse, even Pinkie seemed to understand what was going on.

She gave Turner a questioning look, and naturally he misinterpreted it. “Ah, of course, my apologies Miss Shimmer. This is my assistant—“

To make the moment even more bizarre, at exactly that moment a loud crash came from behind Sunset, completely drowning out the mare's name. And, because Sunset had glanced backwards to see what the cause was – some other waiter tripping and falling into the table he'd been delivering a very large meal to – she hadn't even been able to try and read Turner's lips.

“It's nice to meet you,” the mystery mare said with a dopey smile, drawing Sunset's attention first back to her, and then to the fact that none of the others seemed to have realized she hadn't heard the mare's name.

Sunset immediately tried to rectify this, but all she got out was, “Uhh—” before Time Turner obliviously took control of the conversation again.

“So, what's brought you here in such a state?” he asked his assistant. “I thought I had you supervising the last of the long-term frying experiments from a safe distance!”

“That's just the thing,” she said, “all the experiments have finished baking!”

“Baking?” Turner repeated, confused. For a moment Sunset thought his assistant had simply flubbed the word, but then his eyes widened. “Baking! By Jove, this is an emergency! My sincerest apologies, Miss Shimmer, Miss Pie,” he turned and told his lunch companions, hurriedly scarfing down what remained of his meal, “it's been a pleasure dining with you, but I simply must attend to this posthaste. Here,” he procured a small coin purse from his saddlebags and placed a few bits on the table, “this should cover my portion of the bill and gratuity. But for now, I must bid you both good day.”

He stood and turned, and took off with his assistant with a cry of, “Tally ho!”

Sunset – and, probably, most of the other fryery patrons not involved in recent accidents – was left speechless for a good long while. And when Sunset did find her voice again, her only word was a flat, “What.”

Pinkie giggled. “I really like those two. They're funny.”

Sunset's words left her again.

---

So, yeah. In hindsight, this wasn't nearly as bad as I had thought at the time. Pinkie (and Turner) were just being friendly, and, well, I wasn't up for it. All of it was absolutely my fault though.

Anyway, after Time Turner and his assistant [unintelligible scribbles] left, Pinkie finished her lunch and we went back to 'research'. Not a lot happened so I'll spare you the details; we walked around town for a couple more hours, Pinkie talked to a few ponies and kind of embarrassed me by pointing me out to them while I was trying to stay somewhat hidden, and I got a few more data points for my Pinkie Sense research.

Oh yeah, and for the record, Pinkie's sense did go off to warn her about that waiter tripping, I just didn't see it. So. Sucks to be me, I guess.

Oh, also, in case anypony cares: my initial observational research of the Pinkie Sense continued off and on for a while, but didn't really yield much in the way of results. The best I figured out was that most of the twitches happen an average of six seconds before the event they predict, and I'm pretty sure the longer waits all involved multiples of six. So, chalk another one up for the Prime Magical Number, I guess. Probably should've predicted it beforehoof, but whatever.

Anyway. I think I stopped once I hit six observations? And went home, tired and annoyed, to Twilight.

Which is where the trouble really started...

Comments

[Eroraf86]

So six is the Prime Magical Number, huh? Is that just based on the Elements, or is there more to it?

[Ze1a7in]

9239841
I think it is related to the Elements, as 6 is not normally a Prime Number at all.

[Vaguely Demented]

If the most important number from a magical perspective is six I wonder if they would use a base six system.

[FanOfMostEverything]

Prophecies were... rare, to put it mildly, and were only known to come to unicorns.

At least, according to most researchers on the subject. Who were unicorns. Who studied other unicorns, because why bother testing anypony else when this was obviously real magic?

It's kind of a shame. Sunset could've had a much better time if she'd just opened herself up a little. She could've even learned about a whole new area of magic in petriculture. At least she sees that now. And Unintelligible Scribble is, as always, best pony.

[Hilltopper2]

Six as a culturally significant number can make sense, even allowing for ponies' lack of fingers to make five or ten important.

Each hoof, Nose/horn and tail, there's six.

[Fangren]

Wow, a lot of people really latched on to the concept of 6 as the Prime Magical Number, huh?

9239841
9240380
I don't really wanna say much, but I will say this: it's not that 6 is the Prime Magical Number because of the Elements of Harmony, but rather that there are 6 Elements because that's the Prime Magical Number.

9240562
It's possible, but it's not something I took into account while writing the story. And besides, why would earth ponies or pegasi care all that much about a magical constant?

9242016
Also possible, though, again, not really what I was going with.

9240584
Institutional bias runs deep, I'm afraid...
And though I disagree about her being best pony, Unintelligible Scribble is, at least, a very good pony.