Minuette stared across the table into the stallion's cerulean eyes, losing herself in them. They seemed immeasurably deep, lit only by pinpricks of light dancing from the reflection of the candles adorning the dinner table. She had never felt a connection with another pony so deep, so absolutely primal, as if they were not two, but one soul, divided and scattered long ago and only now seeing their completion in the other.
As she felt him reach across the table to lay his hoof over hers, she shivered, a rush of warmth to her face signalling a blush not of embarrassment, but simply the overwhelming emotion of the moment. Her lips moved involuntarily, drifting from a parted declaration of wonder to a bashful smile.
She wanted to look away, to let her eyes rest on something else – his flowing mane, or rugged chin, or to somehow stare a hole through the table to get a glimpse of that irresponsibly hot flank that she knew he was hiding. But his eyes were so magnetizing that she found herself helpless before their allure.
She had to force herself to keep breathing, and her heart rushed in her chest. This, this was the moment that she had spent a million lifetimes waiting for, the perfect culmination of the perfect date with the perfect stallion. This would be the dawn of a new, better era, one of fulfillment and happiness and a whole lot of vigorous bedroom activities that would need properly tasteful euphemisms.
She could see it all in his eyes. She exhaled softly, a single sigh of perfect contentment, as she reached over to touch his other hoof as well. She knew what she had to say. She had practiced it often enough in the mirror on lonely nights, albeit at times impaired by copious consumption of wine and overindulgence in tawdry romance novels. Only three words, but they would make the depth of her affection known, crystallizing this moment into the flawless apex of passion.
She took a deep breath, not wanting the experience to end, even as she trembled in anticipation. Then she spoke.
“I lo—”
“Caramel!”
Minuette turned to stare at the harsh voice echoing from beside the table. In an instant the spell was broken, the mood totally shattered, the imaginary roses and stars and angelic chorus immediately snuffed out. Minuette would have mourned the loss of her perfect moment, had she not been overwhelmed by trying to process what had replaced it.
A turquoise pegasus stood next to her, face twisted into a scowl and wings quivering. Minuette mutely looked back at the stallion across the table, seeing Caramel’s eyes suddenly stretch wide as his mouth twisted into a guilty half-grin.
“Oh, uh, hi Sassaflash,” Caramel said. He pulled his hooves back and twitched slightly as he ran one through his mane. “Hey, I can explain, I swear!”
Minuette could only stare, unable to do anything but wait for the explanation to come. Judging from the silence and her challenging glare, Sassaflash felt similarly. Caramel had to have seen the dangerously thin ice he was on, but it seemed his response was to take up tap-dancing.
“Um... uh...” Caramel’s teeth clicked together rapidly as his eyes flash back and forth. “She’s my sister!”
“What.” Minuette’s voice came out flatly, before her brain even got a chance to weigh in on the matter.
Sassaflash shook her head softly, a bitter grin on her face. “You are pathetic, you know that? I can’t believe I dated you for three months.”
“Baby! Don’t be that way! You—” Caramel abruptly broke off, eyes narrowed as he carefully studied Minuette, then Sassaflash. A long moment passed as he sized up the two mares, tapping his chin before nodding once to himself. In a decisive flash of movement, he reached out to squeeze Sassaflash’s hoof in between his own. “You are the only one for me, babe!”
Minuette’s mouth dropped open. Caramel’s eyes flicked back to hers, and he gave a momentary stare that somehow conveyed an intense message: Just go with it pleeeeease.
“The same restaurant, Caramel.” Sassaflash’s eyes burned with righteous anger. “You couldn’t even pick somewhere different. That’s insulting. If I hadn’t shown up early to check our reservations...”
“It was a one-time thing! She means nothing to me!” Caramel’s voice had entirely shifted from the suave rumble of a few minutes prior. Now his desperate pleading had the pitch of pitiful whine.
“WHAT.” Minuette’s brain had caught up with the situation. Yes, that still seemed to be the appropriate response.
It was then that a third mare trotted up to the table, an earth pony with a curly orange mane and a triplet of carrots as a cutie mark.
“Caramel? You’re still here? I think my brush fell out of my saddlebags on our date earlier and I was just coming back to see if somepony had... found... it...” Her eyes grew large as she took in the scene, the rapidly unravelling Caramel still holding onto the hoof of a furious Sassaflash while Minuette stared in amazement.
Caramel dropped Sassaflash’s hoof like it was made of fire and flailed his hooves wildly. “Goldie! W-w-what are you doing here?”
The look of surprise on the mare’s face melted away, replaced by fiery eyes and clenched teeth. “Y-you! I—!” She paused to collect herself and a dangerously cheerful smile spread across her face. “Caramel, sweetie, I know we’ve been talking about taking our relationship to the next level, and I’ve come to a decision.” At her words, Caramel’s face lit up, disregarding the icy current lurking under the surface.
“I’m breaking up with you,” Golden Harvest said.
The mare turned to another nearby table where two ponies were watching the scene with great interest. She seized a half-full glass of water and flung its contents right into Caramel’s face. As he sputtered and coughed, she stuck her tongue out as one final send-off and marched away.
Caramel pulled his napkin to his face, wiping off the water and taking a moment to recover. Satisfied, he crumpled the cloth into a ball to lightly toss on the table, having regained his composure and a roguish smile. “Okay, well, Sassa—”
The pegasus had taken the opportunity to dump another glass of cold water over his head. She trotted out, her nose raised high in the air.
Minuette wordlessly hoofed Caramel her own napkin, and he once again wiped at his muzzle, patting at his wet mane for good measure. He swallowed and looked up, his eyes brightening as he saw Minuette still seated before him.
“So,” she said coolly. “Three ponies. Someone has been busy.”
Caramel’s smile wavered between artificial remorse and a surprisingly proud smirk. “Well... So, I may have stretched the truth a little bit when I said I wasn’t seeing anypony. But hey, I have some good news!”
“Go on,” Minuette said. A thin field of magic began glowing around her horn, and a nearby waiter found the weight on his back suddenly lessened.
“Well, baby, I’m single now!” Caramel grinned widely as one eyebrow arched confidently.
Minuette found that to be the appropriate time to dump the entire pitcher of water she had levitated above his head. No wonder the other girls had done similarly. It was surprisingly satisfying.
“Yes,” she said. “Yes, you are.”
And then she rewound time.
Minuette chose to go all the way back to that morning, to the blissful warm moment between sleep and consciousness. She loved that fleeting feeling, before the crushing disappointments of reality caught up yet again.
It always had to end though. Time can only stand still for so long. She would know, after all.
Opening her eyes to the sunlight shining through the window, Minuette sighed deeply and rubbed her face with her hooves. She had been so close. She was so sure that this time it had been real, that she had finally found romance.
She had been trying for so long, after all – in a manner of speaking. The chronology got... hazy. Her memory only went back so far, but she never could quite tell if that was because nothing had happened before, or because everything had happened before. It all depended on how you defined ‘before’, and dwelling on it too long tended to give her headaches.
No, Minuette was a pony who lived in the moment. She had to be, by definition. But her particular moment, the entirety of the past several years, had been colored by an unmistakable desire for something more.
Being a physical manifestation of a metaphorical concept had certain benefits, yes, but it didn’t keep a pony from being lonely.
Of course, when it came to Caramel, better to be disappointed now, rather than after she had invested her heart and soul into a relationship doomed from the start. But maybe a bad relationship was better than nothing at all?
Minuette bonked herself in the head with a hoof. Best not to think that way. She was going to find perfection. She would settle for nothing less than the best.
Rolling over, she flopped out of bed and stretched. A deep yawn came unbidden as she weaved her way in between the junk littering her bedroom floor. There was her hairbrush, sticking out of a pile of dirty blankets and socks, but she decided not to bother with her mane quite yet. She would make the time when she needed it.
As Minuette trotted into the kitchen, her stomach rumbled, providing a reminder that she hadn’t eaten since... well, later that night, but that hardly counted. Her horn flared with magic, and a box of cornflakes and bowl floated from a nearby cabinet, soon joined by a jug of milk from the fridge.
She sniffed the milk out of habit, despite already knowing the truth. It was ever so slightly spoiled. That was easy enough to sort out with a localized field of time inversion. With a satisfied grin, she poured newly fresh milk onto her cornflakes and floated a spoonful of the crunchy cereal up to her mouth.
Delicious. But cornflakes alone weren’t enough to keep her mind from wandering, drawn naturally to the disastrous events that had happened... were going to... well, that would have had been going to happen in another eight or so hours. That was the thing with time wankery, it played havoc with proper tense and sentence construction.
It didn’t matter to Minuette. She wasn’t going to make the same mistake twice. She had promised herself that today was going to be the day – no matter what. After all, she had the holy grail of romance, the solution to all her problems. The Little Black Book.
Rarity’s Little Black Book, to be precise. The fashionista was an old and treasured friend, the companion for many afternoon teas of discussing the finer points of properly passionate literature and stallions and grand plans for the future. After all, at times it seemed like they were the only two straight single mares in Ponyville.
That, of course, had abruptly changed. Rarity ceded allegiance to both ‘straight’ and ‘single’ in one fell swoop when she fell head over heels for that farmpony. It had come completely out of left field, and Minuette couldn’t help but feel shocked and betrayed. But Rarity was ever the paragon of generosity and a consummate friend, even as she moved on with her life. While she left Minuette behind figuratively, she made sure to literally leave behind her most treasured possession.
That was the Little Black Book. Contact information for every available bachelor in Ponyville. Granted, they weren’t all winners – Caramel had made that crystal clear. But of all the many, many stallions in town, there had to be the one. Minuette just had to keep at it until she found him.
She levitated the Little Black Book over and opened it to a random page. Yes, she would keep trying. After all, she had all the time in the world. She was all the time in the world. She would keep trying stallions until she found her perfect match. When the sun sat today, Minuette d’Journée Millénaire would have a coltfriend.
How hard could it be?
Eight minutes and forty-four seconds late. And he entered the restaurant still slick with sweat and smelling of dirt and apples. Not even fresh apples in an earthy bouquet. Nope. It was more like a symphony of dirt, mud, and manure, with the slightest whiff of what miiight be fruit, like cologne on a pig.
Which, come to think of it – he also smelled like pigs.
Minuette held back a shudder, instead forcing a big smile. It wouldn’t do to be too judgmental. Who knew what hidden depths a new suitor might have? She would have to look on the bright side. At least Big Mac was... well, big. Certainly not hard on the eyes. That slight sheen of sweat and the way his muscles rippled under his fur as he awkwardly grabbed at his glass of water...
Yes, Minuette could work with this.
He succeeded in lifting the glass to his face right as the waiter appeared next to them.
“Madame, Monsieur, have you decided on a selection, or would you like more time?”
Caught off guard by the question, Big Mac twitched, almost sending his drink tumbling to the floor. After a tense moment of the glass bouncing in his hooves he caught it once again, but as his hooves pressed together to hold it steady, Minuette heard a single distinctive crack of breaking glass.
The waiter heard it too, given the look of horror that flashed across his face. Only for a moment, of course. Minuette had chosen a rather nice restaurant, and they were nothing if not professional.
Minuette quickly jumped in. “I’ll have the spinach and watercress salad, please.” She smiled sweetly at the waiter, eyes flashing with apology and a tinge of pleading.
The waiter picked up on it well enough. “Very good, madame. And for monsieur?”
Big Mac pointed at something on the menu with one large hoof. The waiter craned his neck to look at what the big stallion had specified. “The tarte à la pomme? For the main course?”
Big Mac nodded slowly.
“Very well. We will have those out for you in just a moment.” The waiter paused to glance at the glass in front of Mac. It had a distinctive crack running down one side and a spreading wet spot on the tablecloth beneath it. “Ahem. Allow me to refill your glass.” With a glow of magic, the broken vessel lifted and floated away as the waiter left.
Minuette grinned sheepishly, in a spirit of kindred embarrassment, up until she noticed that Big Mac didn’t seem to be particularly embarrassed. He was placidly staring off into the distance. Irked, Minuette cleared her throat as she gave him a meaningful look.
Big Mac blinked languidly. His head inclined to the side ever so slightly as he actually looked at his date for the night, but his lips remained closed. Minuette coughed again, in a slightly higher pitch.
Big Mac smiled gently and reached over to nudge her own water glass closer to her hoof.
Minuette could feel an eye twitch start.
No. Nope. Nuh-uh. She had to stay positive. What was it that they said about the strong, silent type? That underneath the rugged exterior they had the souls of poets? She just had to dig deeper, get past that initial layer of dirt. And then the layer of more thickly packed dirt underneath. There was a diamond under there... somewhere. Nothing good ever comes easy.
Minuette floated the glass up to take a slight sip of water. Placing it down again, she smiled flirtatiously.
“So, Big McIntosh. Oh, may I call you Big Mac?”
Big Mac’s eyes drifted up as he carefully considered the question. A few seconds passed, then a few more. Minuette was about ready to repeat the question a second time when he finally did speak up.
“Ee-yup.”
That was progress. Of a sort. A start! Soon they would be conversing like soulmates, once she could crack the shell.
“I hear you work at Sweet Apple Acres? What a lovely place that is.” Minuette’s voice was soft and appreciative. A little bit of flattery about his home and life’s work – that would do the job.
Big Mac looked right into Minuette’s eyes. She blushed slightly and averted her eyes, but as a surreptitious glance a moment later proved, he still stared right at her. That was promising, if she knew her body language. Surely, now he would—
“Ee-yup.”
Her eye definitely twitched that time. Okay, well... Now he had doubled his contribution to the conversation! In a disappointingly literal sense, granted, but... Maybe it was Minuette’s fault. Maybe these questions were just dead-ends to begin with. She needed to throw him something he could work with. Yes!
“Oh, you must have ever so many interesting stories from working on the farm.”
Perfect.
Mac raised one hoof. With glacial slowness, he rubbed his chin. His eyes gradually misted over, apparently deep in thought. His face didn’t leave anything to the imagination, slowly shifting from a frown, to a soft smile, to a grim line as he painstakingly shuffled through a catalog of treasured memories. Suddenly his eyes lit up again, as a grin caused the corners of his mouth to turn up. Big Mac’s hoof slowly fell, eventually resting on the table again.
Minuette leaned forward, attentive and supporting, without appearing clingy or desperate. She looked deep within his eyes as his lips parted.
...
“Ee-nope.”
The strangled sound that escaped from Minuette’s throat was somewhere between an unhappy cat and a drowning duck.
She managed to start rewinding time before the pain from slamming her head against the table kicked in.
Four minutes and fifty-three seconds late. At least he had put some thought into his appearance, if the bowtie was any indication. Not too bad of a looker, either. Grey coat and yellow mane was a tad on the plain side, but he strode in with a remarkable amount of swagger, and she did like a stallion with confidence.
“I apologize for my tardiness. I hope you were not waiting long?”
And he talked. Thank Celestia.
“Oh, not at all, Mister—”
“Please,” he smoothly interrupted. “Just Hugh.”
He seated himself, neatly unfolding the napkin into his lap and raising one hoof in a casual gesture to signal the waiter. “Garçon,” he called out. “The lady will have the Arlequin du Potager en Aigre-Doux and I will, of course, have the usual. And could we also get a bottle of your finest Alicante Bouschet?”
Minuette raised an eyebrow.
“Oh, I hope I have not been too forward,” he said with a sly smile. “I have frequented this establishment on several prior occasions and I think you will find the fare to be delightful. And the wine is a magnificent red. You will love it, or I else do not know my grapes.”
“How very cultured!” Minuette said, smiling. This was indeed an unexpected change – night and day compared to her last suitor. Even if it was technically the same night of the same day.
“Oui! I spent some time in Prance one summer when I was still in University. Beautiful country!” Hugh sighed wistfully. “Ah to be young again. But vacation stories are all so dreadfully boring. I am much more interested in learning about the lovely mare who has deigned to grace me with her presence.”
Minuette giggled coquettishly and fiddled with her mane. “Oh, do stop, you flatterer.” A glance revealed the stallion still smiling confidently, evading arrogance only by dint of being so naturally charming.
“Flattery implies untruth, and if anything I am understating the vision of beauty before me. Tell me, dear, what do you do? Other than brighten up any room you enter?” He rested his chin on his hooves, leaning over the table in position of rapt attention.
“Me? Why, I...” What was it again? Minuette momentarily froze, being so distracted by the suave stallion that she had to dredge through her memory to pull up her dusty old cover story. “I’m a dentist.”
“Aha, a lady that can truly bring a smile to any face. Do you own your own practice, then?”
Minuette bit her lip, but deciding it didn’t particularly matter, she nodded. “Not much of one, I’m afraid, but I make do.”
Hugh leaned back as his eyebrows raised, genuinely impressed – or else particularly good at faking it. “So self-evidently beautiful, well-educated enough to be a dentist, and a successful small business owner? My dear, I simply cannot believe that you have not been already snatched up by some dashing stallion.”
The grin on Minuette’s face froze, looking momentarily forced. “Eheh. Yes. Quite.” She shook her head slightly. “I believe I could say the same about you. That is... you, er, aren’t already involved with several other ponies on the side, are you?”
Hugh’s mouth opened in shock. “Why of course not! The very idea! What sort of self-respecting pony would dare to be so uncouth?”
“I could name one,” Minuette muttered, too soft for Hugh to hear.
“To be honest, my dear...” Hugh’s eyes flickered from side to side, determining their privacy. “And strictly between you and me, I have not had much luck with the fairer sex. I fear that I must come on too strong.”
“You? No!” Minuette protested, raising one hoof. “Confidence is nothing to be ashamed of, and you have been the perfect gentlepony.” Her eyes turned a particularly sultry look upon the stallion. “In fact, I’ll have you know many mares find such self-assurance to be particularly attractive.”
One eyebrow gracefully arced on Hugh’s face, a flirtatious smirk suddenly appearing. “Is that so? Well, you should know that—”
The waiter suddenly returned, interrupting their conversation to wheel in a tray. He presented a bottle of wine to Hugh, uncorking it once the stallion had nodded assent and pouring a glass of deep red liquid for each of the two ponies. Minuette clapped her hooves together, the fragrant fluid already looking absolutely delectable.
With a deep bow, the waiter used his magic to float two covered plates to the table. Minuette oohed appreciatively as her meal was revealed, a medley of vegetables tastefully arranged under a light yellow sauce.
“This looks lovely, Hugh,” she said, smiling at him. “I can’t wa— Uh.”
She had noticed his own meal. The removal of the lid had revealed a deep bowl filled with bright red jelly. A few specks of tiny seeds could be seen floating in the gelatinous mass, and it wiggled ever-so-slightly from its previous movement.
“Their strawberry is simply divine,” Hugh said happily. “Texture, flavor, top marks across the board.” He reached up to undo his bow tie. “Dear, could I possibly impose upon you to hold this for me?”
Minuette nodded mutely as he passed her the bow tie. She peered down at the bowl in confusion, then back up at Hugh.
He gazed at her, giving her a warm and friendly grin, with a wink that indicated the slightest edge of sauciness. Minuette forced a faltering smile back for the suave, self-assured stallion.
Then he slammed his face down into the bowl of jelly, the whole restaurant echoing with the tremendous squelching sound.
Tiny flecks of red splattered everywhere, some splashing to make a horrible contrast against Minuette’s blue coat. Her mouth formed a rictus of horror as she watched, unable to look away. Hugh’s tongue bulged out as he rolled his head around in the dish, spreading red jelly over every inch of his muzzle and a significant part of his mane as well.
“oh dear sweet celestia it’s so goooood,” Hugh moaned, his breathy voice indicating an enjoyment of the experience that was positively obscene. A mare over at the table next to them held her hoof over her foal’s eyes and quickly shuffled him out of the room, glaring at the both of them.
Minuette’s eye began twitching furiously.
She could rewind time, but she had the sinking feeling that she could never ever ever unsee that.
Twenty-three minutes and fifteen seconds late. Minuette had just about decided to give up and rewind early, chalking this one up as a loss, but the thought of telling off the rude stallion was too good to give up. It had been dreadfully boring, the only event of note being the arrival of an alicorn for the dinner seating. The other patrons had broken into excited whispers, but Minuette wasn’t fazed by wannabe royals. She would have known if it was Celestia herself, and she didn’t care about some scrawny purple mare.
Instead, she had focused her attentions on plotting an indignant response for her rude date, idly keeping an eye on the restaurant’s entrance. When a bizarrely dressed pony had stumbled in, pushing past the alarmed maitre d’, she knew immediately that it was her date. Of course.
He had shown up wearing a bulky trenchcoat that covered most of his body – his lumpy, oddly-shaped body. Even though the restaurant was quite dim, he sported a pair of dark sunglasses, in part explaining why he seemed to be careening through the restaurant, crashing from one table to another as he made his way to her. And on his face was a dark, bristly mass of hair that could only charitably be called a moustache.
Minuette shuddered. Eeurgh. Moustaches.
Somehow, he managed to end up in the right spot, and collapsed into the seat opposite her. The righteous wrath she had been brewing up for the last twenty-four minutes and thirty-three seconds, now, had melted away as Minuette tried to process the creature in front of her.
She squeezed her eyes shut as she fervently hoped that she had simply started to hallucinate out of boredom, but when they opened again nothing had changed. “Mister Nip Nail?” she finally asked.
“Wha? Whozzat?”
Minuette frowned. “That’s the pony I was to meet.”
The other pony’s chubby cheeks flushed. “Oh! Yeah! That’s me, alright!”
It was at this point that Minuette noticed that while Nip Nail’s face was decidedly teal in hue, the gangly hoof protruding from his trench coat was a golden amber. He also seemed to possess a noticeable bulge under the trenchcoat in the neck region.
“Gee! You sure are pretty!” Nip said, with unrestrained awe.
“Heeeey, I want to see tooo,” his neck drawled, in an entirely different voice.
Minuette’s gaze flickered from the the other pony’s head to his ‘neck’. Images of policeponies and child protective service workers suddenly flashed into her mind.
“Nope!” she said as she started rewinding time.
Minuette was quite surprised to find her date already there when she arrived at the stroke of seven. She narrowed her eyes at the grey-coated stallion twiddling his hooves over at the appropriate table and turned to the maitre d’ at the restaurant’s entrance. “Er. How long has he been here?”
The maitre d’ smoothed his moustache. “The gentlepony has been present for the past half-hour. We arranged for his seating ten minutes ago, as we do not care to have loiterers in the lobby.”
Minuette grimaced slightly. “Oh, okay. Um. Thanks?” Sure, he was wasting his own time instead of hers, but it still bugged her. Did no stallion in this town have the common sense to show up for a seven o’clock date at, you know, seven?
The maitre d’ silently inclined his head, and Minuette trotted over to the table as she composed her expression into a coy smile. Lucky Clover immediately sprang up and pulled her chair out for her. He was a ball of energy, alright, but at least a polite one.
“Why thank you,” she said in a breathy voice. She immediately slipped into her best half-lidded gaze as she looked across the candlelit table. Maybe if they could just get started on the right hoof...
“No problem!” Lucky’s response was chirpy and bright, and Minuette suppressed a sigh. “I have to say, I love that necklace. It complements your mane so well! Where did you find it?”
Minuette blinked in surprise, before a proud grin broke through her artificial flirtatiousness. She reached up to touch the silver chain. “There’s a great little jewelry shop in Canterlot that I frequent. They have some very unique pieces sometimes.”
“Oh, you’ll have to tell me all the details!” Lucky rubbed his hooves together. “I have to admit, I splurged on a suit from the Carousel Boutique after seeing it just screaming my name in the display. But I can’t find a proper tie pin. Something flashy but not gaudy, you know?”
“I’m surprised to see you taking such care in your appearance,” Minuette said, with a half-smile.
Lucky raised a hoof to his chest in a mock dramatic huff. “What sort of pony doesn’t take interest in fashion? Not one I would care to associate with, that’s for sure.”
He opened his mouth as if to continue, but the waiter had arrived and looked between the two of them expectantly.
“I’ll have the, er, Arlequin du...” Minuette’s face turned green for a moment. Nope. She thought she could do it, but a certain image was still seared into the back of her eyelids. “Actually, let’s just stick with the spinach and watercress salad.”
Lucky didn’t seem to notice, as his muzzle was buried in the menu. “I’ll have... actually, the same will be fine.” He winked at Minuette. “Need to watch my figure.”
The waiter bowed his head and trotted onwards.
Minuette smiled bashfully at Lucky, who seemed to be staring in her direction a little more fiercely than previously. His eyes definitely seemed stuck on—
Wait. On something beyond her left flank. Her eyes blazed as her smile melted away. Was he eyeing some tramp at another table? When she had been putting on her very best come-hither act? These stallions, couldn’t they spend five minutes without staring at...
As she turned to look behind her, all she saw was the rump of the waiter as he cantered off. She found herself staring as well, watching the waiter’s tail swish as his toned muscles made their way across the room and into the kitchen. She had not been paying enough attention to the serving staff because hoo boy.
She shook her head slightly and turned to her date, seeing him still glancing wistfully at the swinging door that lead to the kitchen.
Oh.
Oh no.
Minuette fought the urge to facehoof and thought it through logically. She was probably overthinking things. She was being ridiculous.
She should probably make sure.
“Lucky, dear. Tell me, have you been in many relationships with other mares?”
Minuette’s question caught him off guard. Lucky furrowed his brow. “Well. Yes, of course. But it’s never worked out in the long-term. I just haven’t found a mare with that spark, you know?”
Minuette nodded slowly.
“I’m still great pals with all my old exes. Just last week I had the most delightful evening with Cheerilee, watching movies in our PJs, and then staying up late to talk and drink cocoa.” He blinked. “Oh, but us. I think we have a real connection here.”
“Yes. Right.” Minuette waved a hoof frantically to flag down another waiter. “You, bring me a bottle of wine. No, make that two.”
“I don’t normally drink that much,” Lucky said with a frown.
“Who said they were for you?” Minuette replied.
Both bottles of wine were completely dry. Minuette sighed and planted her muzzle firmly face-down on the tablecloth. Slightly worried, Lucky’s murmuring voice paused, but Minuette’s hoof rose and twirled impatiently.
“Well, as I was saying, of course all of us colts showered together after hoofball practices. That’s just the way things were done.”
“Mmph. Tell me, Lucky. How do you feel about... musicals?”
Stars shone in the stallion’s eyes. “Oh, they are simply fabulous. How did you know? I recently happened to catch Joseph and the Amazing Techneighcolor Dreamcoat while I was visiting Manehattan last year, and—”
Minuette rolled her head up and gazed at Lucky with baleful bloodshot eyes. “You are deliberately screwing with me, aren’t you?”
Lucky furrowed his brow in confusion. “Are you sure you’re okay? I think you may have had a bit too much to drink.”
“I’m fine,” Minuette grumbled. “I am not nearly drunk enough right now. Back to you. I want you to do me a favor, ‘kay?”
“Okay...?” Lucky said tentatively.
“Visualize the most attractive, perfect mare for you. Let me know when you’re ready.”
Lucky closed his eyes and hummed softly. “Okay, I suppose.”
Minuette lifted one of the wine bottles and shook it, hoping in vain for some drops she had overlooked. “Now describe her.”
Lucky frowned as he concentrated hard. “Okay. She. Hm. She has a mane. And it’s... long. Ish?”
Minuette waved a hoof. “Whatever, fine. Now visualize the sort of stallion that you think mares are attracted to.”
A smile crept onto Lucky’s face. “Sure. So, he’s tall, but solidly built. Strong jawline and defined muscles, but not freakish or anything. Just toned. His fetlocks are a little on the shaggy side, and his mane is short but flowing, like it’s been tousled by the wind. He would spend a lot of time outdoors, you know? And of course, he has a particularly large—”
“That’s enough!” Minuette said.
“I was just going to say horn.” Lucky opened his eyes and shrugged. “There’s something about unicorns, you know?”
“Now think about the difference between your two images. This doesn’t.... suggest anything to you?”
Lucky tilted his head to the side and bit his lip. Minuette watched him levelly.
“Nope!”
Minuette’s face hit the table with a resounding thud. “Lucky. Please don’t take this the wrong way. Have you ever thought that maybe mares just aren’t for you?”
“I think everypony deserves a chance at love.” Lucky’s voice was disapproving and a little sad.
“That’s not what I meant.” Minuette sighed deeply. “Have you ever thought about stallions instead?”
“What?” Lucky blinked. “I think about stallions all the time. It’s not like I don’t have any guy friends.”
Minuette suppressed the urge to bang her head on the table. “No. Romantically thought. About stallions. Have you ever thought about dating a stallion, Lucky.”
“A-are you saying that... that you think I’m a colt-cuddler?”
Minuette looked up at him with her eyes narrowed. “Yes. Yes, that is exactly the thing that I am saying.”
Lucky’s mouth hung open as he stared at her. Anger flashed into his eyes, but dissipated as quickly as it had arrived. Minuette was half expecting that. What she wasn’t expecting was him bursting into tears.
“Oh Celestia, it’s true! I’ve tried to deny it for so long, but it’s tru-u-u-u-e!” In a flash he was around the table and Minuette found a sobbing stallion clutching her in a tight embrace.
“Uh. There there.” Minuette awkwardly patted at Lucky’s back. “It’s going to be okay.”
He released her and pawed at his wet face. “I should have accepted this so long ago. All the signs were there!” Minuette rolled her eyes, as he sniffled pitifully. “Thank you so much, Minuette.”
She offered him her napkin, as she tried to surreptitiously wipe the tears off her own coat. “Yeah. No problem.”
He looked up to her with earnest gratefulness. “Now that I think about it, maybe that’s why I thought it would work with us.”
Minuette frowned. “What?”
He shrugged. “Well, you sort of look stallion-ish yourself.”
Minuette felt her hooves tense against the table. “What.”
Lucky was at least smart enough to pick up on the sudden change in atmosphere. Unfortunately, he wasn’t smart enough to keep quiet.
“Oh, I mean it as a compliment! It’s just your horn is particularly... prominent. Not very mare-ly. There’s a lot of stallions out there that’d kill for a horn like that.”
“WHAT!”
It was probably the two bottles of wine that spurred Minuette to flip the whole dinner table at that point, sending plates and cups flying everywhere with the crash of shattering glass.
Lucky could damn well find enlightenment on his own.
Minuette surveyed the destruction as her eye twitched. The restaurant staff and patrons just stared, except for a purple unicorn that Minuette could see dashing forward out of the corner of her eye.
At least the act of destruction was nicely cathartic. As Minuette began to rewind, she made a note to remember that for the next inevitably depressing date.
Minuette groaned once she found herself back in her bed. Sure, she wasn’t drunk anymore, but alcohol had a tendency to mess with a pony, even when time shenanigans were involved. Going from inebriation to abrupt sobriety was not particularly pleasant. The benefits of bypassing the worst of the hangover were still worthwhile, but it took a moment for the room to stop spinning.
She stretched out in bed, trying to gather up fresh resolve. She would go back to the Little Black Book. She would find another date. And it would suck, again. Aaargh. It was hard to keep her spirits up when the list of names continually dwindled and yet the dates got worse and worse. Somehow.
She let out another groan.
Then with the crackle of eldritch electricity and the acrid stench of temporal magic, a purple pony appeared above her bed, crying out in surprise as she fell the short distance to land right on top of Minuette.
“Aaaah!” Minuette shouted.
“Aaaaaah!” Twilight Sparkle shouted back. “Wait! You!” She realized she was speaking directly at Minuette’s tail and she spun around, blushing. “You!”
Minuette squirmed. Even though her vision was no longer dominated by Twilight’s own hindquarters, the other pony was straddled right over her in the bed, meaning their bodies were uncomfortably close and their muzzles a scant distance away. “Me! What? Who are you!”
Twilight Sparkle took a deep breath. “My name is Princess Twilight Sparkle, and I am here because—”
With another crackling surge of magical electricity that lit up the room but harmlessly danced across Minuette’s coat, the intruding pony abruptly vanished again.
Minuette blinked. She slowly turned her head from side to side, making sure the room was completely empty. The only sign that the strange interruption hadn’t been a hallucination was the lingering smell and her even-more-rumpled-than-usual bedsheets.
Minuette bit her lip. “Well. That was wei—”
With another crackle the pony materialized in the air again, this time flaring out wings to turn in midair and land right on top of Minuette again, face to face.
“Where was I?” she said. “Right. My name is Princess Twilight Sparkle, and I am here because I have traced a large amount of unnatural temporal distortion occurring today and I believe you to be the source. What do you have to say for yourself?”
Minuette glared. “I say you need to get out of my bed. Now!”
Twilight looked up in surprise, noticing her surroundings for the first time. Undeterred, she frowned down at Minuette again. “Sorry, but this takes precedence! You don’t understand how touchy time-travel can be. The smallest change and you could set off a whole chain of— Oh, drat!”
The ball of eldritch lightning zapped her away once again, leading Minuette to breathe a sigh of relief. Not to be caught unaware a third time, she hastily rolled out of bed and trotted over to the other side of the room, where she waited patiently.
It wasn’t a long wait before the flaring electricity of the time spell brought Twilight back, where she seemed very surprised to be standing in a bed that was now empty. She was even more surprised when a pink fuzzy house-slipper bounced off her head.
“Go away!” Minuette yelled, as she canvassed a pile of dirty clothing for another appropriate improvised projectile.
“What?!” Twilight drew herself up and flared her wings out. “I am a Princess. I am trying to protect Ponyville, nay, the entire time-space continuum!”
An empty water bottle, that would do the trick. Unfortunately, Twilight was paying enough attention to avoid it. “I don’t need your help,” Minuette said. “I don’t need the help of any princess, least of all a princess of creepy privacy invasion!”
Twilight gasped. “How dare you! I am the Princess of Science!”
Minuette paused, hoof frozen mid-throw. “What? That’s not even a real thing.”
“Is too! Science forms the entire basis for the order and structure of the universe!”
Minuette grinned wickedly. “Uh huh. And I bet you raise the science every day, right? Ten bits says Celestia just told you that ‘cause she couldn’t figure out anything else for you to do.”
Twilight’s eyes started glowing alarmingly. “I’ll have you know that— Oh, horseapples! There has got to be a better—”
With a zap, she vanished a third time.
Minuette waited. And then waited some more.
After several minutes had passed with no angry purple alicorns invading the sanctity of her bedroom, she shrugged and went to get breakfast.
Cornflakes: check. Bowl: check. Spoon: check. Milk: check.
Impatient knocking at the door: check?
Minuette had experienced this morning often enough to have everything down to a tidy routine, but there never had been anypony at her door before. To be fair, she had never had an alicorn in her bedroom before, either.
She suspiciously trotted to the door and opened it to see her fears confirmed. Twilight Sparkle was standing outside.
“Uhm. Hi,” she said. “So, a version of me from the future just appeared in the library and told me—”
“Sorry, not interested,” Minuette interrupted, closing the door and locking it for good measure. She was already halfway across the room when she heard the characteristic pop of teleportation magic being used. She sighed as she kept trotting.
“I’m very sorry for the bother, but it was something about runaway time magic and being extremely important. And then future-me said some not very nice things, but it looked like I had had a long day, so I assume it was mostly stress talking.”
Minuette sniffed at the milk out of habit, her nose wrinkling up at the sour smell. A little of the standard fiddling to freshen it up and—
“Whoa! Did you just...” Minuette turned to see Twilight’s eyes as wide as saucers.
“Look, Princess, I know what I’m doing, and I’m not hurting anything, okay?” She used her magic to load her bowl up with cornflakes and milk.
“H-how...” Twilight shook her head, stifling a look of wonder and going back to a tone of professionalism. “Okay, well, that still shouldn’t make enough of a chronological metamorphic signature to indicate true problems. There were— will be bigger changes going on, at least according to, well, future-me.”
Minuette shrugged, crunching away at her cereal. “I’ve got it under control. I need to get something taken care of today, and it’s taking more tries than originally anticipated.”
“More tries?” Twilight repeated, aghast. “There is a reason the space time continuum does not come with an ‘oops’ button! What could possibly be so important that it’s worth risking annihilation of all that was and ever will be?” Twilight tried to sound authoritative, but a strong note of curiosity clearly came across.
“None of your business,” Minuette promptly replied. Unfortunately, her eyes betrayed her, taking that opportunity to glance at the Little Black Book still sitting on the kitchen table.
Twilight raised a hoof to her mouth. “Is that...? But Rarity is...” She sharply glanced at Minuette, causing her to shift uncomfortably. “No. You’re doing all this for—”
Minuette brought one hoof down against the table. “Hey! I am sick and tired of being single. I deserve a little happiness too, alright?”
Twilight raised an eyebrow. “And exactly how many times have you struck out already?”
“Wh-wh-what?” Minuette sputtered. “It’s this town! There’s not a single stallion in this town that’s not insane or horrible or insanely horrible. Or into-other-stallions, I guess.”
Twilight rolled her eyes. “There are dozens of perfectly agreeable bachelorponies in Ponyville. Maybe you just have unattainable standards.”
“Oh, and how exactly would you know?” Minuette countered.
The blush on Twilight’s face showed that her verbal jab had struck the target. “I’ve been on lots of dates, thank you very much! Even if you don’t count impromptu conversations at mixed-gender social gatherings—”
“Oh, I totally don’t,” Minuette said.
“—Even then, I’ve still been on...” Twilight froze with one hoof in the air. She swallowed. “Lots of dates. I’ve just decided that with all my duties as a Princess I’d be happier being alone right now!”
Minuette grinned. “Okay, then you wouldn’t mind setting me up.”
Twilight tilted her head. “What?”
“Set me up. If you know all these nice eligible ponies that you don’t have time for, it shouldn’t be that hard to introduce me to one, right?”
Twilight awkwardly shuffled from one hoof to another. “R-right.”
“If you find me the perfect date...” Minuette paused, the last several tonights flashing through her mind. “Heck, if you can find me a date that’s halfway decent, then I won’t need to mess around with the timestream anymore. And both our problems are solved.”
“Fine! No problem, not at all!” Twilight said haughtily. Her eyes narrowed. “Don’t bother wearing socks because they’ll be knocked off.” With a flare of magenta color, her horn released a crackle of magic and she disappeared in a pop of purple electricity.
A sly smirk crept across Minuette’s face. Either Twilight would come through with a decent stallion, or it’d be a spectacular failure to rub the fussy alicorn’s nose in. Yes. Yes, today was finally looking up.
Twilight materialized outside of Minuette’s door, and she hurriedly began trotting down the path back to the library.
Okay, she had slightly exaggerated her experience with dating – but it’s not like she hadn’t studied the subject extensively! A direct challenge had come as a surprise, but Twilight Sparkle wasn’t going to back down to some crazy unicorn.
She had plenty of time to prepare for tonight, and the knowledge and capabilities to orchestrate a wonderful evening. Sure, her notes were all neatly constructed and organized so that she might provide a suitor with the appropriate instructions to give her a perfect night, but they would be applicable to another mare as well. She would just need the proper stallion, but that’s okay because she knew lots of—
Oh wait. No she didn’t. She didn’t know any stallions.
Twilight stopped right in the middle of the path.
Uh oh.
Twilight Sparkle was not freaking out. She had spent most of the day confirming, reconfirming, and re-reconfirming every possible detail to make sure she had everything under control. She was as cool as a reasonable number of cucumbers, to be precisely determined at some future, less time-sensitive point, when she could afford adequate investigation of their surface-to-area ratio and rate of heat transfer.
Sure, she was having to make some difficult choices on the fly. A glance up at the clocktower of Ponyville Town Hall revealed that it was already a little past six. She would have to pick up the pace, and possibly cut some non-essential tasks from her mental checklist. Perhaps the one to create a backup physical checklist, though she hoped to Celestia it wouldn’t come to such dire straits.
It was okay. Twilight Sparkle had a plan.
She shifted from a canter to a slower trot as she made it to the market square. Many of the merchants were already packing up their carts and preparing to head out for the evening. Applejack was nowhere to be seen, though it wasn’t strange for her to leave early with how quickly her apples tended to sell out. That was probably for the best – Twilight didn’t have time for a friendly conversation, or even worse, curious questions. She was looking for a different mare, one who hopefully still had plenty of stock.
“Roseluck!” Twilight exclaimed happily, finding her target in the middle of closing up her stall.
“Sorry, we’re closed for the day. You’ll have to come back—” Upon turning to see that Twilight was the one who had called out, Roseluck gasped and immediately leaned forward in a deep bow, her nose practically pressed into the dirt. “P-Princess Sparkle! I didn’t realize it was you!”
Ugh. Twilight sighed. “Roseluck, it’s just me. Twilight Sparkle. I distinctly remember the parasprites, what, a year ago? My spell backfired and your entire cart got eaten, and you were so angry at me you wouldn’t even talk to me for a month! You don’t have to bow, really.”
Roseluck’s face had turned pale. “Oh no. I am so so so sorry! Please don’t send me to the moon! Or the sun! Or...” She peeked up from her deep bow with a small frown. “Or whatever it is you’re the Princess of.”
“Science,” Twilight corrected.
Roseluck blinked. “Are you sure? That doesn’t seem like a real—” Twilight had started to grind her teeth together, and Roseluck cut off that line of inquiry with a nervous “Eep!”, hiding behind her hooves.
“I just need some flowers,” Twilight said. She trotted forward to peruse the selection, frowning at the stall already having been picked clean. She dredged up an old text from her memory – different flowers meant different things, right? She’d want something that Minuette would like, something that conveyed the proper message. Something iconic.
Roseluck timidly looked over Twilight’s shoulder. “I have some lovely white lilies,” she said.
Twilight shook her head. “Too funereal.” She pushed aside an oversized sunflower – “Too bright” – and peered at a bouquet of tiny colorful blossoms. “Too scattered.” She growled in frustration. “I need something that’s romantic.”
Roseluck shifted from demurely gazing at the ground to peer at Twilight intently. “...Romantic?”
“Mhm,” Twilight said, still sifting through a bundle of posies. “What would you suggest, Rose?” She gasped. “Wait, roses! Perfect!”
Roseluck bit her lip and moved forward to look through her wares. “We normally sell out of roses before any other flower. I don’t know if I have any left.”
Twilight tried to hold back a surge of panic. The date hadn’t even started yet, and it was already about to be ruined – you couldn’t go on a date and not bring flowers! That’s not how it worked! Minuette would laugh in her face and then probably deliberately break time somehow and everything would be sucked into a black hole with nothing left but an eternally disappointed Princess Celestia and it would all be Twilight’s fault! It would—
“Oh. No, here we go!” Roseluck gently proffered a single red rose with a bashful yet proud smile. It was flawless, the thorns snipped off the stem leaving only a few green leaves that framed beautifully curled petals. “Roses are my specialty after all.”
Twilight caught her breath as she took the flower. A single red rose? That was perfect! Well, it was somewhat forward, as red was for passionate love and a single rose declared a certain intensity of focus, but that’s what she needed. Aggressive confidence!
“I’ll take it!” Twilight began rummaging in her saddlebags for her money pouch. “How many bits?”
“Oh, no! No no no no! Always free to a Princess!” Roseluck had already dropped down into another exaggerated bow.
“Please, Rose, let me pay.”
“And be known as the merchant who charged royalty?” Roseluck shook her head in horror. “I’d be run out of the market square!”
Twilight’s head drooped. “Okay. Well... thank you.”
“Of course!” Roseluck offered a nervous smile that was all teeth, content to wait in that uncomfortable posture until Twilight left.
Twilight sighed again as she walked away.
She was doing that a lot these days. Being a Princess really wasn’t all sunshine and moonbeams – particularly when you didn’t have personal control over a sun or moon. Twilight was certainly treated like royalty, but she was sick of it. All the bowing and scraping, the awed praise in front of her and whispers behind her back, it made her feel like an outsider. Like everypony in Ponyville only thought of her as some sort of icon or deity, not as a person.
At least she still had her friends, but she saw them less and less. She made it a point to see the girls as often as possible, but it had always been obvious that they’d eventually have to drift apart. They each had their own lives, their own responsibilities, and while they would always be friends... Twilight felt like she was missing something. Maybe even somepony.
Twilight winced. The point was: she was lonely. She just wanted to be treated like a normal pony. Instead, she was stuck having to figure out this ridiculous date with a crazy unicorn, all to save the fabric of space-time. How had it even come to this?
She sighed, louder than before. She still had an errand to run, but maybe it was worth bumping up a certain phase of her plan. Maybe she could have at least one normal interaction today before the date, when things would inevitably be weird.
Except switching her plans around meant things were already about to get really weird, really quickly.
Twilight paced back and forth in the alleyway behind Sugarcube Corner, forcing herself to take deep breaths. This was it, she couldn’t turn back now. She had read through the spell a dozen times, and she was perfectly confident in her ability to cast it. It was just... unnerving.
The overarching problem was that Twilight Sparkle did not exactly have any stallion friends. Sure, given her position she technically could have commanded some guardspony to follow her orders, but that would be a pretty awful abuse of authority. Princess Celestia would not be happy when she inevitably found out. That option having been ruled out, Twilight naturally turned to the one classic solution that she had relied on for so many other problems:
Magic.
If she couldn’t find a stallion, well, she would make one.
Twilight took another deep breath. She would need to be calm and focused. It was a complex and draining spell, a meaningfully extended duration only possible due to the large innate energy reserves of alicorns. On top of its inherent difficulty, she was planning on implementing a couple of minor tweaks – not enough to destabilize the spell, only to refine it.
Taking one last look to make sure both ends of the alley were clear of any peeking ponies, she closed her eyes and planted her hooves firmly. As soon as she touched the first strand of magical energy, she felt the world around her light up with colors and feelings that she could sense even without her eyes.
It was always like this when she worked with a complex spell. An awestruck smile involuntarily spread across her face. This was her talent, and every time she worked with real magic, weaving the strands of power together to accomplish tremendous feats, she felt a tremendous joy.
She had to reach deep, deep within herself, to extract that strand of vibrant magenta and funnel it up through her horn. From there it took the utmost of concentration to take the glowing stream and join it with corresponding threads of silver from the air and copper from the ground. Delicately intertwining, they locked together into a carefully planned web, vibrating rapidly until it suddenly tipped into place to collapse the entire structure into one solid beam.
A beam that twisted in the air to strike right at Twilight Sparkle, enveloping her in white light.
Twilight coughed and coughed, her sense of the world’s natural magic abruptly severed. A cloud of white smoke slowly started to dissipate, revealing that she had collapsed in the dirt, the plain alleyway still around her.
Had it worked?
Twilight slowly got to her hooves, shaking a kink out of her neck. The first thing she noticed was the alley had grown smaller. Only very slightly, but it was unmistakable. But she still felt normal. Had it worked?
With a flash of light she summoned up the mirror that was normally sitting in her bedroom. One look confirmed it: It had worked!
She was a stallion!
Sure, her – wait! – his coat was the same color, and his mane had that characteristic streak of violet and pink, but it was unmistakable. His muzzle was blockier and more well defined, his body broad and strong where it had once been svelte and girlish. Even his horn was more prominent, and the cut of his mane shorter and more tousled. He no longer had wings, due to a skillful tweak to the spell’s composition, but he had spent the majority of his life without them. One evening wouldn’t be bad.
Twilight reared up, trying out different poses in delight at the success of his spell. He wouldn’t be winning any Iron Pony competitions, but bulging muscles were overrated. His physique was still unmistakably masculine, but the lavender color scheme gave the impression of a sensitive intellectual. Exactly the kind of pony that any filly would fall head-over-heels for.
Twilight tried out a look of smouldering passion, inclining his head and using his magic to generate a breeze to blow back his mane. “Hey there, beautiful,” he said in a suggestive half-growl, his voice coming out much deeper than before.
Whoa.
Twilight was expecting the spell to work. He wasn’t expecting to be this hot.
His seductive expression melted away into pure glee, as he hopped lightly up and down. Minuette wouldn’t know what hit her! He just needed to take care of a few niggling details.
With a flash, his cutie mark shimmered and twisted into a trio of smaller pink stars. No spell could actually change a pony’s cutie mark, of course, but a minor illusion layered on top could be kept up with minimal attention, hiding his true identity.
But something still wasn’t quite right. Twilight looked into the mirror and frowned. Perhaps he was being too paranoid, but his disguise was missing something. Something important. He thought back through years of study and careful memorization of every possible spell he could get his hooves on. There had to be something...
And then inspiration struck. Grinning like a loon, Twilight Sparkle cast a simple spell, one he had long since disregarded as practically pointless.
On his muzzle a fantastically lush moustache blossomed.
Yesssss.
Twilight trotted into Sugarcube Corner, noticing that even his gait was different. More aggressive and deliberate, less swaying and feminine. He had to consciously keep from smiling at each new discovery that confirmed the spell’s success. It was surprisingly hard work maintaining an aloof aura of cool detachment, but it was a good opportunity to practice.
Inside, the bakery was bustling. A few ponies enjoyed milkshakes at the scattered tables as usual, but Twilight’s eyes were drawn to the line of ponies waiting at the uncharacteristically vacant counter. He noticed the pegasus mare in front tapping her hoof impatiently while he slid to take a place at the back of the queue.
No one spared him a second glance. Twilight allowed himself a gleeful grin of triumph. For the first time in ages, he was waiting in a line.
It was glorious.
No ponies hurriedly deferring to him, no special treatment! Just a normal wait for a normal pony. Sure, he didn’t have all the time in the world to get to his date on time, and that caused a little worry to gnaw at the back of his head, but that was a normal pony problem. After having to deal with Ponyville’s surprisingly frequent natural catastrophes, monster problems, and bureaucratic bugaboos, a normal pony problem was a relief.
He was just beginning to wonder about the lack of movement of the line when Mrs. Cake stuck her head out from the door behind the counter, allowing the clatter of pans and baking to escape out. “Sorry everypony! We’re backed up right now with a big order. We appreciate your patience!” Craning her head towards the ceiling, she shouted in a louder tone, “Pinkie! We could use some help down here!”
Twilight shuffled his hooves nervously as he heard clomping coming from above. The sounds drew closer and closer until the pink pony herself appeared at the top of the staircase in the main room, bounding down to take the final few steps in a flying leap.
“I’m on it!” Pinkie triumphantly called out, and blew past the line and over the counter in a blur. She moved with confidence and speed, darting from one place to another to load up several baskets of baked goods.
Twilight relaxed. Pinkie had gone right past him without a word. This new form really worked!
“Hey Blossomforth!” Pinkie chirped. “One batch of blueberry scones, sorry for the wait!”
The pegasus smiled and slid some bits across the counter. “Thanks, Pinkie!” She gripped the basket in her teeth and cheerfully trotted out.
“Snowflake! Lookin’ mighty muscle-y as always!” She hoofed over a basket of odd-looking muffins. “One peck of protein powder puffs! You planning on squeezing in another workout today?”
“YEAH!” he shouted.
“And next, for the always optimistic Bon-Bon!”
The pony in front of Twilight froze. She was wearing a red kerchief and a pair of oversized sunglasses, but several curly strands of blue and pink hair escaped from beneath the covering.
“One bunch of our new mallow-mint cookies, on the house. You’re not going to figure out our secret recipe though, so don’t bother trying!” Pinkie leaned forward and punctuated her words with a conspiratorial wink.
Bon-Bon removed her glasses and glared fiercely at Pinkie Pie. “What gave me away?” she said.
“It wasn’t much of a disguise, silly! You didn’t even have a moustache. Next time you should ask Twilight for advice – the whole being-a-stallion thing is waaay trickier.” With one hoof she pointed directly at Twilight, grinning innocently.
Everypony in Sugarcube Corner stopped talking and turned to stare at once. One final crash sounded from the kitchen and it too fell silent, as Mr. and Mrs. Cake both popped their heads through the door, Mr. Cake covered in flour with a pie tin upside down on his head.
Mrs. Cake was the first to recover. “Princess!” She frowned as she peered at Twilight’s new form. “Er... Prince?” she corrected, allowing an awkward silence to fall while she tried to determine if that was proper.
“Your Majesty!” Mr. Cake suddenly interjected.
“Yes!” Mrs. Cake said, relieved. “Your Majesty! Why didn’t you say you were coming? We’re terribly sorry to have kept you waiting.” She trotted over to the counter and nudged Pinkie out of the way. “What can I get for you? If we don’t have it, we can probably whip it up for you in a jiffy.”
Twilight’s face was suffused with a red-hot blush. “Oh! I’m not Twilight Sparkle! I’m, uh, Starshine. Her brother! Not Shining Armor though. Another brother that she never told you about.”
Pinkie rubbed her chin thoughtfully. “She does do that...”
Mrs. Cake’s eyes narrowed. “Uh-huuuh.” She tilted her head for a moment, then smiled. “Well, a brother to a Princess counts as royalty in our book! What are you in the mood for? On the house, of course.”
Twilight winced. He looked around the room to see everypony staring at her. “Um. Some chocolates please?” His voice grew smaller and smaller. “In a heart-shaped box?”
His blush intensified under the barely-hidden smiles of all the watching ponies until it felt like he had eaten one of Pinkie’s chili cupcakes. Mrs. Cake shared a meaningful look with her husband, and he trotted to retrieve something from a locked glass case.
“Our very best chocolates, then! Sure to win the heart of whatever lovely mare you have your eye set on.”
Twilight thought about denying it, but nopony would believe him, and explaining the situation would keep him there all night. “Thanks,” he said in a barely audible voice. He walked up to the counter and Mr. Cake hoofed over a large red box tied with pink ribbons and bows. He placed it safely in his saddlebag with care, next to the rose.
His bits were right there too, and he considered for a moment insisting on paying, but couldn’t muster the courage. Everyone still seemed to be watching him. Somehow this was even worse than when he was just a Princess. Surely everyone had bought his cunningly crafted cover identity, but now he was a new pony to Ponyville, and visitors garnered their own share of curious attention.
Twilight looked up and plastered a smile on his face as he backed out of the room, a dozen pairs of eyes locked on him the whole way.
So much for going undercover early.
As soon as he stepped outside into the cool evening, he heaved a sigh of relief.
“I know, right? Some ponies are so rude!” Pinkie said, as she peered at his flank from a distance of about an inch.
“Aaah!” Twilight jumped a foot straight up. “Pinkie, don’t do that!”
“Twi, you’ve got to tell me how you did this,” she chirped, unfazed. “Got to got to got to!”
“I’m not Twilight. I’m Starshine.”
Pinkie rolled her eyes. “Oh please! You think you can sneak one past the Pink Prankster? Was it a spell? Because if so I just got an idea for the very best way to mess with Dashie!”
Twilight looked back and forth to make sure no ponies were eavesdropping. “Y-yes, okay? But you have to be quiet about this.”
“I Pinkie Promise I won’t tell anypony! Cross my heart and hope to fly, stick a cupcake in my eye!” She kept going with a complicated series of pantomime movements, but found herself abruptly suspended in Twilight’s magic.
“Sorry Pinkie, but I don’t have time! I’m going to be late.”
Pinkie giggled and rolled over on her back, spinning in the air. “You mean you’re actually going on a date?”
“Yes,” Twilight muttered, blushing slightly. He gently sat Pinkie down again. “Remember, you can’t tell anyone.”
“Wait, though.” Pinkie frowned as she peered at Twilight. The pink pony had an extremely strange expression on her face. For once, she was... serious. “Twilight. I think you have to lose the moustache.”
“Huh?”
“For a date? Nope. It makes you look like the sort of pony that gives candy to impressionable young foals out of the back of a van.”
Twilight blinked. “Pinkie, I saw you giving lollipops to the children at the schoolhouse literally this morning.”
“Yes, but I’m a professional!” Pinkie closed her eyes and stood tall. “If there are strange mustachioed ponies riding around in vans giving candy to foals, it plays havoc with their dietary schedule.” She leaned in until they were almost nose-to-nose, her eyes back to unnaturally wide open. “Candy is a sometimes food, Twilight! Obesity is a national epidemic!”
Twilight shook his head, trying to keep up. “But... but... I don’t even know what a van is!”
Pinkie nodded grimly. “Exactly.”
With a deep sigh, Twilight’s head drooped and the moustache withered away in a flash of magic. He was going to miss it.
Pinkie patted him gently on the back. “Now go get ‘em, ‘Starshine’! You’re going to make some lucky mare awfully happy.”
Twilight swallowed, but managed a weak smile.
“I sure hope so.”
Twilight slowed his pace slightly as he looked up at the clocktower one last time. 6:58. Reaching into his saddlebag, he pulled out the rose and gently held it in his teeth. It was just a short walk to the restaurant where he would be meeting Minuette – in fact, the same restaurant where he had originally tracked the chronological disturbances and caught the unicorn traveling backwards in time.
He would have to figure out how she had managed that. Temporal magic wasn’t easy – Twilight knew first-hoof that it was difficult to manage stability for more than a minute before being bounced back to your original timeline.
For the time being though, he needed to stick to his plan. He had read enough romance novels and dating advice handbooks to get the basics, and the advantage of being a mare less than an hour ago meant all he had to do was treat Minuette how he would like to be treated. Since he had diagrams and flowcharts explaining his dating preferences in specific terms in case his eventual special somepony needed guided assistance, transitioning to implementing those plans came easily.
He rounded the last corner in front of the restaurant and stopped dead in his tracks. Right in front of him, Minuette had turned the opposite corner at the same time. As soon as she saw him, rose at the ready, her steps faltered to a halt and the two faced each other.
Twilight swallowed nervously. Here was the big test – everypony knew first impressions were absolutely vital for a lasting romance, and he needed to nail love at first sight. He anxiously sized up the mare in front of him, brain racing through trying to analyze her reactions and his own reactions to her reactions.
She looked considerably more prepared than she had this morning, mane brushed and styled in a loose, flowing wave accentuated by its complementary shades of blue. It was simple and natural, but suited her well. Just like the fact that she had not bothered with jewelry or fancy dress – she didn’t need any of it, she was perfectly beautiful on her own.
At the moment though, Twilight was drawn to her expression, trying to use all of his studies on body language to determine the impression he was making. He quickly ran through the specifics: body fairly rigid and forward momentum stopped, eyes wider than normal, forehead wrinkling with disbelief, hoof raised to hide an open-mouthed smile on her face. There was only one conclusion.
Oh, yes. She was absolutely head over hoof for him.
Twilight trotted over to present the rose, bowing deeply. “Twilight Sparkle told me of your beauty, but I fear even her impressively extensive vocabulary did not do you justice.”
Minuette’s mouth moved wordlessly for a moment, still stuck in a half-amazed grin. She finally got out some words. “You... are...?”
Reaching forward to take Minuette’s hoof, Twilight lightly kissed it. Old-fashioned, yes, but any mare with a hint of romance in her heart would swoon over the gesture. “Starshine Twinkle, her brother. Shall we?”
“You can’t honestly believe—” Minuette broke off her words at the sound of the bells chiming. She looked up across town at the clocktower as it rang seven times. As she turned back to Twilight, her expression shifted through a variety of emotions, eventually settling on surprised disbelief. “You’re on time,” she said, her tone betraying a hint of suspicion.
Twilight blinked. Uh oh. Should he have shown up earlier? Or... was Minuette after the bad colt type who’d leave a lady waiting to demonstrate their own sense of self-assured cool? That would require an entirely different set of plans! He wasn’t equipped to handle those sort of expectations!
Twilight took a deep breath. No, he had to keep his composure and proceed as planned for now. He smiled reassuringly. “Well, yes. We have a reservation, do we not? Let’s not keep them waiting.”
Minuette stared at him for another long moment, head turned slightly. Finally she shook her head softly, her mouth forming a knowing smirk. “Sure, Starlight. This should be an interesting night!”
“Starshine,” Twilight said.
"Right." Minuette brushed past him, headed to the restaurant's entrance.
Twilight hesitated for a moment, lost in his thoughts. She hadn't even been able to remember his name? Had he overestimated his introduction? What did that mean for—
"Are you coming?" Minuette's voice rang out as she held the door, expectantly glaring at Twilight.
Oh no! That was step four of his perfect date plan: Chivalrously open the door for your mare. Hurrying to minimize the damage, he dashed forward, his horn alight to support the door himself. Giving a half bow, he insisted, "After you," and forced a smile onto his face, but inside he knew:
The date could not possibly be going any worse.
The date could not possibly be going any better.
Twilight knew it – an interested mare gave certain clear signs, like physical contact or flirtatious laughter. And Minuette had been giggling along with him all night – even when he had gone into his fabricated family history, which admittedly was a little bit long and dry, but which excellently shored up his credentials as being Twilight’s definitely real and not fake brother. She had laughed at those stories and they weren’t even jokes, so she had to be crazy about him!
Twilight looked up from the light salad he had ordered to see Minuette still looking at him. Here was an opportunity – he needed to get past simple flirting, try to build something more meaningful. He mentally scanned through his well-memorized checklist.
Step twenty-six: maintain eye contact.
Twilight stared into Minuette’s eyes, and it was like falling into two deep limpid pools. Wait, ‘limpid’ had a certain unfortunate connotation – it always made him think of lichen and swamps for some reason. They were... glittering sapphire orbs? That captured the unique blue color that oh-so-strikingly complemented the other shades of her mane and coat, but calling eyes ‘orbs’ made it sound like he intended to pluck them out to keep. And that was creepy, even metaphorically.
No, no. They were like twin portals into the limitless expanse of the night sky, encompassing the entire cosmos of twinkling stars in their nocturnal beauty. That was it. That was why it became harder and harder to look away, why he felt as if he could just remain still and gazing into those dark, expressive eyes for endless ages.
It was while still looking deep within her eyes that he was struck with a surprising realization: Minuette was very attractive. Not just in objective aesthetic terms – though, when it came to it Twilight immediately noted eleven distinct characteristics that mapped well to traditional pony standards of beauty. The truth was something undefinable. Minuette was attractive, attractive to Twilight himself on a personal level. That feeling in his stomach wasn’t the salad that he had barely touched.
It was a strange thought. He felt a rush of excitement at being the pony to have her attention, clearly the envy of every other stallion around. But along with it came an accompanying nervousness that he would screw things up somehow.
It was... wrong. It was not part of the plan! He was supposed to be the one approaching this logically, cleverly utilizing known romantic principles to influence Minuette, not the other way around. Was this some sort of result of the spell? Had it tampered with his romantic preferences along with the other changes?
...Did he have romantic preferences? It was a question Twilight hadn’t really stopped to consider in depth before. Back as a mare he was woefully inexperienced, but he had always assumed he liked stallions, as that was more or less normal – probably less normal, given the abundance of filly couples he had seen in Ponyville.
Most of the romances he had read had always been between a mare and a stallion, though that was primarily due to being introduced to the genre by Fluttershy, who had been furtively requesting books from the library via an assumed identity for a while now. Twilight hadn’t had the heart to confront her about it, and thus he couldn’t dare to go to the pegasus for any sort of advice, even though with all that reading she probably knew more about relationships than even Rarity. He had settled for reading the books himself once Fluttershy had returned them, all in pristine condition but smelling faintly of animals.
Maybe it wasn’t so odd, then, as he was a stallion – at least for the moment – and here he had the company of a mare. Maybe his body was just filling in the gaps by naturally responding to the pony in front of him. The beautiful mare with the soft, deep eyes, and flowing mane, and exotically prominent horn.
Yes. That was it. Natural urges brought on by the physical changes of the spell. Nothing to be concerned about, he would just have to take careful note to analyze and discount those feelings as he—
“Starshine?” Minuette said again, and Twilight realized he had been lost in thought for a while. “I was just asking, what is it that you do?”
Twilight shook his head slightly to clear it. “I’m Princess Celestia’s personal student.” As soon as the words left his mouth, he froze.
He wasn’t supposed to say that! He had a cover story as a businesspony in Fillydelphia! Now how was he going to plan for her inevitably probing questions? The key to spinning an unbreakable web of lies was to ensure that each and every thread was cleverly accounted for. The slightest flaw and the whole story would come crashing down! He shivered as a broad smile formed on Minuette’s face. She must have seen the opportunity, and Twilight somehow knew that what she was about to say would cut through his falsehoods and bring an untimely end to the night. He just knew...
“No way! How’s Sunnybutt doing these days?”
Twilight’s mouth fell open. That was not the dreaded response. W-w-what kind of question even was that? “Wha— Buh— You shouldn’t talk about the Princess like that!” he exclaimed.
Minuette shrugged. “She never seemed to mind.”
“Y-you called her that to her face?” Twilight raised a hoof to his mouth in horror.
“Yep,” Minuette said. “She seemed to think it was pretty funny! Of course at the time she was quite... socially lubricated.”
Twilight stared at her.
“Four sheets to the wind. A mug of cider short of a liquor cabinet.”
Twilight kept staring.
She paused and rolled her eyes at Twilight. “She was drunk. Is that shocked silence or just general stupidity?”
“Princess Celestia doesn’t get drunk!” Twilight exclaimed.
Minuette stifled a laugh. “Okay, sure. But ‘Sunny Skies’ has been known to get good and sloshed on the weekends. We used to hit the bars pretty often back when I lived in Canterlot. I never did figure out if she still got hangovers like a normal pony or if crazy alicorn biology somehow intervenes.”
“I don’t believe you,” Twilight said firmly. “Why would the Princess even want to do something like that?”
“Being the famous and powerful ruler over all of Equestria has got to wear on you after a while.” Minuette rubbed the back of her head with one hoof. “I think she just liked being able to cut loose like a normal pony for once? Without being judged for it or treated differently. I don’t know if a pony like you would understand.”
Twilight bit his lip. Actually, yeah. He understood that all too well.
He hadn’t ever stopped to think about Princess Celestia, who he still held on a pedestal. Even while he was only her student, the Princess had told him several times to call her Celestia, but he just couldn’t make himself do it. Not even after becoming an alicorn himself. It just sounded disrespectful, but... what if she had wanted a friend? Had he just been keeping his distance out of a selfish desire for proper respectability, leaving Celestia as isolated and alone as always?
He felt a soft pat on his hoof and looked up in surprise to see Minuette smiling gently. “Hey, I mean, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be rude or make you question your teacher or anything. Just... she’s still a pony too, y’know?”
Twilight sighed. “Yeah. Maybe I needed to hear that. Thanks, I guess.”
Minuette nodded but didn’t remove her hoof from his. “No problem.”
“But I’m curious... how did you know the Pr—” Twilight stopped himself. “How did you know Celestia?”
Minuette waved her other hoof in the air dismissively. “Y’know, work thing. It’s boring.”
“Work...?” Twilight’s eyes narrowed. “Wait, what do you actually do?”
“I’m a dentist!” Minuette chirped, her smile bright.
“You are a dentist,” Twilight repeated dubiously. “You were Princess Celestia’s Royal Dentist.”
Minuette nodded eagerly. “Sure. That silly Princess, always with the eating cake and getting cavities!”
Twilight frowned. “Uh huh.” Something wasn’t adding up. “Actually, you know, I read a medical dissertation recently.”
Minuette raised an eyebrow. “Uh huh?”
“On the regenerative properties of alicorn skeletal structure.”
“Oh,” Minuette said. “Of course I’ve read that, since I am a dentist. The previous Royal Dentist. But, uh, the teeth still have to be carefully monitored so the bones don’t regenerate too much.”
“Aha! Got you!” Twilight grinned with triumph, resisting the urge to point dramatically.
Minuette flinched. “What, a fake study?”
“No, of course not. C’mon, what kind of pony would lie about science?” Twilight’s eyes sparkled. “No, you made a much more rudimentary error: Teeth aren’t bones.”
“Wait, what?” Minuette frowned. “Of course they are.”
“Nope!” Twilight’s voice took on a lecturing tone. “They lack marrow, and despite the presence of calcium they are instead formed by a combination of tissues including dentin, enam—”
“I didn’t say I was a good dentist,” Minuette cut in. “Maybe there’s a reason I’m not in Canterlot anymore. And what makes you such an expert on teeth?”
“I read Neigh’s Anatomy cover-to-cover last summer. It’s a rather good work, I have an extra copy if you want to borrow it.” It only took one look at Minuette’s expression for Twilight to give up on that idea. He sighed. “Anyways, that has to be one of the first things you learn as a dentist. What do you really do?”
Minuette leaned forward and spoke in a whisper. “Well, you have to keep this absolutely secret, but in actuality I am the captain of Princess Celestia’s extensive spy network.”
Twilight rolled his eyes. “Nope. I’ve met him, and he wears an eyepatch.”
“Ugh.” Minuette frowned. “Okay, I’m the official ambassador from the Changeling nation, sent here to observe your culture. Or the personification of the metaphorical concept of time. Or Princess Celestia’s illegitimate daughter, driven from Canterlot in shame to protect her reputation. Or—”
“Wait,” Twilight said. “Back up.”
“Illegitimate daughter?” Minuette said hopefully.
“No, before that.”
“Oh, Changeling representative! That one is fun. Yes, I am here on a mission of peace and understanding, trying to bridge the cultural divide. And for what it’s worth, it is no wonder Chryssy went with the all-out invasion plan after seeing how hard it is to get any love from—”
Twilight shook his head. “No, no, no. The time one.”
“That’s the one you believe?” Minuette exhaled in frustration. “Fine. I guess it doesn’t matter, does it? Yeah, I’m the physical embodiment of time. Big whoop.”
“That... how does that even work?” For some reason, he did believe her. Twilight knew better than to discount something just because it seemed far-fetched – it wasn’t too long ago that a certain pink pony had convincingly demonstrated the folly of allowing old assumptions to override new data. Science was built on testing hypotheses and reshaping them when they didn’t fit. The prospect of new knowledge was just too tempting for him to resist.
Minuette waved a hoof. “It just does. I dunno. It’s complicated probably, but comes pretty naturally, and has the perks of being able to play with things a little bit. Y’know, rewind, fast forward, that sort of thing.”
She looked down at a piece of lettuce on the plate in front of her and frowned at it. Without even a hint of magic flaring around her horn, the leaf turned brown and crumpled up, quickly shriveling away into dust.
Twilight’s eyes had grown alarmingly large at the display. He could sense the manipulation of the temporal fabric, but it did indeed seem like something completely different than unicorn magic. “Y-you must have profound insights into the nature of time!”
Minuette looked skeptical, but softened at Twilight’s hopeful expression. She put her hoof to her chin, musing. “Okay, um... Time is like... like...”
“A wheel?” Twilight offered. “A tapestry? A big ball of—”
“No, no, no.” Minuette sighed. “Time is like a kumquat.”
“A kumquat,” Twilight said, flatly.
“Yeah,” Minuette said. “It’s sort of fuzzy when you look at it from the outside, not to mention brown-ish. No one really understands how the thing works, but it’s fun to talk about. You really only stop to consider it in detail when you hit an unexpected piece in your salad – you know, metaphorically when it surprises you for either good or bad. Also, it tastes like citrus.”
Twilight’s mouth fell open at the explanation.
He took a deep breath. “Okay, first kumquats aren’t brown and fuzzy. That’s a kiwi. Second, what do you mean no one understands how they work? They’re a perfectly normal fruit, grown on small trees in warm climates that have an appropriate amount of annual moisture. Third...” Twilight blinked. “Third, that doesn’t explain anything at all!”
Minuette shrugged nonchalantly. “Whatever. Like I said, it comes naturally. Screw something up? Zzzip, rewind and take another stab at it.”
“That’s horrible!” Twilight exclaimed. “You— You’re missing out on... on life! If you can just take back any of your choices at any time, that removes all weight from them. Part of being a pony is making tough decisions and having to live with the consequences!”
“Hey, it’s always worked for me.”
Twilight narrowed his eyes and assumed a serious frown. “I want you to promise me something. No take-backs tonight. We let things fall however they may, and I’ll prove that’s a better way of doing things.”
“Really?” Minuette smirked. “So no rewinding, no matter what happens?”
Twilight nodded solemnly.
“Okay, no problem!” A devilish grin crept across Minuette’s face as she looked at Twilight, sending a shiver down his spine. After a moment, she rubbed her hooves together. “You’re done with your salad, right?”
Twilight looked down and back up. “Sure,” he said, slightly suspicious of her motives.
“Oh, waiter?” Minuette called out, batting her eyelashes. The requested pony instantly trotted up. “I think we’ll have a bottle of wine.” Her voice took on a sing-song quality. “I was thinking... that.”
With one hoof she pointed across the room and behind the bar on the other side, where one shelf held a single dusty bottle in an engraved display case.
The waiter’s head swiveled between her hoof, the bottle, and an alarmed Twilight. “Madam, t-that is our most expensive wine, a commemorative bottle from the five-hundredth anniversary of the banishment of Nightmare Moon.”
Minuette smiled sweetly. “Of course. Nothing but the best for us. Hurry along, please!”
As soon as the waiter had haltingly turned away, Twilight leaned over the table to whisper fiercely. “What are you doing? I don’t have that many bits.”
Minuette’s smile grew larger. “I didn’t say we were going to pay for it, did I?”
The waiter returned immediately, gingerly carrying the bottle. He presented it to both ponies, receiving an appraising nod from Minuette and a glance of terror from Twilight. “I’ll just need to see some form of—”
“Oh, no, no, no, no, no!” Minuette exclaimed. “These glasses won’t do at all. They’re much too large for a wine of this pedigree. Be a dear and fetch us some more appropriate crystal?”
The waiter bit his lip. “I think these are the only wine glasses we have.”
“I’m sure you have something back in the kitchen,” Minuette said with confidence. “You know, for special occasions.”
“I’ll... check.” The waiter trotted off again.
Wasting no time, Minuette floated the bottle up in her magic and stood up. “We don’t have much time, c’mon.”
“That’s stealing!” Twilight’s head jerked from side to side in an emphatic no. “We could be arrested! They’ll track us down!”
Minuette rolled her eyes. “Whatever, they wouldn't even recognize you because you’re... from out of town.” She smiled as Twilight refused to budge. “Either one of us going to jail would make this a pretty bad date, you know? And I’m leaving with the bottle whether you are or not. No rewinds! Part of being a pony is yada yada something consequences!”
Without another word she spun and started trotting out at as fast a pace as she could manage without arousing suspicion.
Twilight was stuck in momentary indecision. How had it come to this? This was outside all of his plans! If he went with Minuette, he’d become a known accessory to... oenological defraudation? It probably wasn’t technically theft – he was already thinking of ways to justify the bits as a research expense and return to pay in full tomorrow. But if he stayed he’d still have to answer plenty of questions, plus it’d be a disastrous end to the date he had been trying so hard to have go perfectly. Most importantly, Minuette would be gone, and that would be... would be...
It wasn’t until he heard the shout from the returning waiter that Twilight took action. Hurriedly he jumped from his seat and galloped after Minuette, both of them running at full speed past the surprised maitre d’ and out into the darkening street, loud hoofsteps telling them the waiter was fast on their heels.
Twilight ran and ran, the ground underneath flying by. He barely managed to keep up with Minuette as she turned down one street, then another, until the shouts of their pursuer faded off into the distance.
They kept running, putting even more distance between them and the restaurant until Minuette suddenly slowed down, gasping for breath. She leaned against the wall of a building, the bottle of wine drifting down to sit on the ground.
Twilight was equally winded from the chase. “I...” He took a deep breath. “I think the wine got shaken up a bit. I-is that bad for it?”
Minuette looked up at him and abruptly burst into laughter, hoof to her mouth in a vain attempt to hold it back. “I— I can’t believe you actually— Ahahahah!”
Twilight’s mouth twisted as he tried to keep from grinning, but Minuette showed no signs of stopping. It wasn’t more than a moment before sight of her giggling set him off as well. Despite his best efforts, he broke into laughter of his own. “You—” He was so overcome between his sudden laughter and already being out of breath that he sunk down to sit on the ground against the wall. “It’s your fault!”
For a long moment, they both laughed together, their voices ringing across the empty street as the sun crept behind the horizon. When Twilight had regained his composure, he looked up to see Minuette standing in front of him, framed against the brilliant orange of the sunset. The smile on her face was the most open and honest he had seen it all night, completely free of its normal cynicism.
She offered him a hoof. “C’mon, Mr. Sparkle. The night is still young, and this date doesn’t end until I say it does.”
Twilight’s heart skipped a beat as he took her hoof.
Twilight focused all of his intellectual might into a tiny point of intense focus. This would be it. This would determine his success or failure, and it would take all of his concentration, not to mention expert control over every minute physical reflex, in order to come through. He only had this one last opportunity, but he had studied the problem from every conceivable angle, calculating the probabilities and adjusting for all possible adverse factors. Even unexpected eventualities had been carefully determined and factored in. He had to make this count.
Feeling the wind brush his ear and then die down, he knew his chance had come. Twisting his neck, he gracefully swung his whole upper body, teeth gripped firmly on the metal rod.
“Eight!” Minuette yelled cheerfully, causing him to flinch halfway through the motion.
With a resounding thwack, he hit the bright green golf ball way harder than he expected, sending it rocketing off. It bounced off one of the upper blades of the windmill structure and flew in a high arc through the air, right towards... oh no.
The ball fell right into a small pond, with a wet plop.
Minuette laughed uproariously, stopping abruptly only to take another swig from the bottle she had cradled in the crook of one foreleg.
“You’re supposed to yell ‘Fore’,” Twilight grumbled. “No, wait, I’m supposed to yell ‘Fore’.”
Minuette smirked. “Starsy, you passed four a loooong time ago.”
“That’s not wh—”
“My turn! Me me me me me!” Minuette happily skipped over to Twilight, brushing close enough to him to cause his next words to fly out of his head. The next thing he knew, he was holding the bottle of wine and had been nudged off to a safe distance.
He sighed, and gazed towards Minuette, who had taken her golf club in a loose grip in her mouth. She planted her hooves next to her golf ball and stared at it intently, wiggling her hindquarters as she prepared for a swing. That particular motion made his mouth suddenly go dry, and he took a quick drink from the bottle. The flavor was as strong and tangy as always, causing his muzzle to involuntarily wrinkle, but it was really good.
“Hoooole. In. One!” Minuette casually swung the club, spinning around in a full circle before catching herself. The ball arced forward, rolling right into the small hole at the windmill’s base. Twilight trotted over to look at the green further down just in time to see it roll out, bouncing off one wall, then another before coming to rest right in the marked hole.
He looked back at Minuette, mouth open.
She grinned broadly, able to tell from his expression that she had gotten another hole in one. Her third, in fact. “Now let’s see... what does that make the score, again?”
Twilight raised one hoof to his forehead. “Ugh. Are you sure you’re not rewinding time when I’m not looking?”
“Oh, hush,” Minuette said. “Besides, aren’t you supposed to let the filly win?”
“Well, yeah,” Twilight mumbled. “But an emphasis on let. This is just embarrassing.”
Minuette trotted up, throwing one foreleg across Twilight’s withers, as she negotiated the bottle of wine out of his grasp. “It’s okay, Starsy. You’re cute when you’re frustrated.”
The close contact and her words caused his cheeks to flush an alarming red. “R-r-right.” Thankfully, Minuette seemed to be too preoccupied with taking another drink to pay much attention.
A moment later, she disentangled herself and Twilight took the opportunity to float his ball up from the depths of the pond. When he looked back, Minuette was poking around the nearby bench. “Heeey, where’d the scorecard go? I was just about to put down another 9 for you.”
Twilight grimaced, horn glowing as he nudged a slip of paper deeper into the bushes at the side of the green. “Must have lost it. Go figure.” Minuette turned with a frown, and Twilight cast about for a suitable change of subject as he started to walk to the next hole. “Hey, um. So. If you’re the embodiment of time, why aren’t you an alicorn, like Princess Celestia or Princess Luna?”
Minuette looked at him curiously and shrugged. “I think it’s different. Princess Celestia isn’t really the sun. I mean, the sun is a thing, right? It can’t be up in the sky and also a pony walking around. They just... control it.”
“That... sort of makes sense,” Twilight mused. “But why are you a unicorn, then?”
Minuette tilted her head to the side. “I dunno! I just am. I guess Time is unicorn-y. I mean, you’ve met Discord, right? He’s the embodiment of Chaos, and is all sorts of animals together, very chaos-y. It’s the same with others too, like Lady Luck, or Death.”
Twilight narrowed his eyes. “Wait, wait, wait. You are saying there is a literal Grim Reaper, Ferrypony for the River Styx, The Death of Ponies?”
“More like The Death of Parties,” Minuette scoffed. “Seriously, every time he shows up, he claims he’s just there to unwind and have a mug of cider or two, and then next thing you know there’s a body floating in the punch bowl.” She let out an exasperated sigh. “Nothing ruins the mood quite like an unexpected corpse.”
Twilight nodded, deep in thought. “What about m—” He caught himself in time. “My sister?”
“Oh, I wouldn’t worry about that. It’s not like ‘science’ is a real thing you can be a Princess of.” Minuette smirked, watching him closely.
It took a supreme effort to keep from reacting, but Twilight managed it somehow, causing Minuette to look briefly disappointed. “Okay then, how about Princess Cadance? She’s an alicorn, but her powers all relate to love, which is a... philosophical concept, I guess?”
“Hmm...” Minuette took a drink from the bottle and swished it around in her mouth as she thought. “Well. Maybe love is just embodied by that particular form? Actually, yeah!” She smiled wickedly. “See, ‘cause love gives you wings, right? ...But it also makes you horny!” She nudged Twilight in the side. “Eh? Eh?”
Twilight’s face was absolutely blank.
Minuette pouted. “Oh, come on, that was fantastic.”
Unable to hold it for too much longer, Twilight snickered. “Yeah, okay. You’re just cute when you’re surprised.”
She froze up, a slight blush on her face at his unexpected words. That confirmed his hypothesis all too well – she was awfully cute when flustered, and it was nice to be the one doing the teasing for once. He smiled to himself as he quickly walked on, causing her to hurry after him.
Only to find himself at the last hole, confronted with the leering face of an ancient and dreadful enemy.
The clown.
The last hole ended in the giant head of a pony, painted in white, with its nose capped off by a huge red sphere. It was a good deal taller than Twilight, and powered by some sort of interior mechanism that caused its baleful eyes to roll around wildly, each in a different direction and speed. Its mouth stretched open wide with only darkness within, but a solid wooden wall painted as teeth moved up and down erratically, providing one final hazard to making the very last putt.
In short, it was horrifying. More so than even a normal clown.
Twilight grimaced, but stepped up to drop his ball in front of the terrible apparition. Why did it always have to be clowns? At least it was a short distance, and straight. The only thing to avoid was that single moving barrier, and he’d be done.
He tried to both relax and concentrate at the same time, blocking out Minuette, who was presently preoccupied with sniggering at the giant clown. He could do this.
With a gentle, fluid swing, he knocked the ball forward, sending it rolling straight and true...
Right as the teeth came down, blocking the hole. It bounced off and rolled back to him.
“Haw haw haw haw!”
He started to glare at Minuette but since she had chosen that moment to reacquaint herself what was left of the bottle of wine, he realized the tinny laughter hadn’t come from her. Oh, so the clown had sound effects too. Lovely.
Growling, he lifted the ball with magic to return it to its starting location. One straight shot.
The ball crisply rolled down the green again, heading straight for the mouth... where it ricocheted off the wall that had chosen that moment to jerk downwards again.
“Haw haw haw haw!”
His third try was the teensiest bit less calm and controlled than before. The ball got considerably more air, and when it slammed into the clown’s treacherous dentition it left a noticeable dent.
“Haw haw haw haw!”
Twilight felt his vision turning ever so slightly red, and he realized he was grinding his teeth. He was just about to take an even harder swing at it when Minuette spoke up.
“Oh, don’t get so angry, Starsy. I mean, it’s a clown! It’s s’posed to be unpredictable. Ask anypony, it’s just being charmingly mischievous. How can you not love that?”
Twilight frowned. “You want to give it a try, then?”
“Thought you’d never ask!” Minuette grinned as she trotted up, dropping her bright blue ball and planting her hooves firmly. Tossing her head slightly to get a feel for the club, she paused for only a moment before swinging away.
The ball rolled right down the green, mirroring Twilight’s previous attempts. Unfortunately, it also mirrored slamming into the clown’s teeth and bouncing right back out.
“Haw haw haw haw!”
Minuette frowned. Without another word, she grabbed the ball in her magic and firmly placed it in front of her again, wasting no time in taking a second swing.
Thunk.
“Haw haw haw haw!”
Minuette blinked, then her eyes narrowed to slits, as she took position for another try, this time actually concentrating on her timing. She stood motionless, watching the movement of the mouth for a long moment before readying herself.
Thunk.
“Haw haw haw haw!”
Minuette turned to Twilight. “This thing is horrible and I hate it. Do something.”
“Huh?” Twilight shook his head. “W-what am I supposed to do?”
Minuette glared fiercely at the disembodied head. “I don’t know! It’s laughing at me! Can’t you... uh. Beat it up or something?”
Twilight raised an eyebrow. “Let me try one more time. I’ve been observing the pattern of its movements, and while at first I thought it to be wholly random, it appears to be on a cycle of approximately seven—”
“Fine,” Minuette said, waving a hoof. “Just get it to shut up.”
Twilight switched places with her and retrieved his ball. From his observations, the clown had a particular opening where the mouth remained totally clear for a period of two whole seconds, after a very distinctive set of jerky movements. He would just have to wait for that particular opportune moment.
He looked over to Minuette as he mentally prepared himself. She had set down the bottle of wine, and was leaning forward to watch him intently. He swallowed. This would be a good opportunity to turn around this whole minigolf thing and regain a little bit of coolness in her eyes. He couldn’t blow it.
He faced the clown and stared deep into its rolling mechanical eyes. It didn’t scare him. Anything he could analyze, he could defeat. He took a deep breath as he watched the mouth, waiting for just the right moment.
There, those movements meant the narrow window of opportunity was coming.
Twilight’s club hit the ball dead center, and as soon as it began skipping down the green his spirits soared. That was perfect. He knew it. The mouth would open right now and—
Just as the ball was to pass through the opening, the teeth slammed down, trapping it beneath them. For a second the ball stopped entirely, the teeth above squeezing down, pressing it into the ground. Then, with a popping sound, the ball shot out. Backwards. Towards Twilight Sparkle.
“Haw haw ha—”
Twilight’s mane seemed to burst into flames as he shot a tremendous blast of magical energy from his horn. The beam struck the clown dead center with a thunderclap that echoed throughout the whole minigolf course. If not the whole town.
When the smoke cleared, the clown was missing most of the lower half of its face.
Calmly, Twilight knocked his ball to roll through the gaping hole where a mouth had once been.
He turned to Minuette. Her eyes were as wide as saucers, but she was grinning from ear to ear.
“Right. So... We should probably be going.”
Her eyes flickered to where a few ponies dressed in polo shirts were angrily heading in their direction. “Probably.” The smile on her face never faltered. “And probably fast.”
For the second time that night, Minuette and Twilight Sparkle found themselves running through the streets of Ponyville.
Twilight couldn’t help but laugh as he ran, and the matching giggling from the mare at his side sounded like music to his ears.
“And that’s Canis Major,” Twilight said, hoof reaching up towards the sky. “The bright star right there? That’s Sirius.” He felt his cheeks redden as Minuette’s face pressed next to his, trying to match the same view.
“Hm,” Minuette said softly. “It sure doesn’t look like any dog I’ve ever seen.”
Twilight shifted slightly. “Well, a lot of the constellations require some imagination. They were established an awful long time ago, after all, and had certain mythological significance. In fact, Ptolwhinny himself...”
He paused and then sighed. “You probably don’t care about stars though, huh?”
“Nope!” Minuette said.
This was stupid after all. Twilight had been the one to suggest heading to his favorite star-gazing spot atop a hill on the outskirts of Ponyville, and he hadn’t even taken Minuette into consideration. She must be bored out of her mind. He was ruining everything, he was ruining the date, and that made him feel as if he had a lead weight in the pit of his stomach. He felt a desperate need to do something to salvage the night. It couldn’t just end like this, that would—
Twilight’s runaway thoughts halted as he felt the sudden warmth of Minuette resting her head against his neck. He heard a soft sigh from her, and then quiet words. “But you do care. I can tell from the passion in your voice when you get going. And I could listen to that all night.”
He was glad she was unable to see that the blush on his face had only increased in magnitude. He opened and closed his mouth as he looked up to the sky once more, thoughts of stars suddenly having slipped from his grasp.
After a moment of silence to collect his thoughts, he remembered something. Not wanting to get up from the cool grass – and more importantly, the warmth of the mare lying right next to him – he used his magic to open the flap of his saddlebags from where he had sat them down earlier, and a heart-shaped box floated towards the pair of ponies.
“Oh, um, I got you some chocolates,” he stammered. “I meant to give them to you earlier, but—”
A blue hoof pressed itself to his lips, stopping his words once more. “You do know the way to a mare’s heart,” Minuette said lightly, seizing the box in her own magic to deftly unwrap it and float the assortment of chocolates closer to them.
Twilight frowned at the sight of rows of uniquely decorated treats. “There should be a sheet somewhere that says which ones are what kinds.”
Minuette giggled. “And ruin the surprise?” A swirled truffle floated up to Twilight’s lips in a cyan aura. Before he knew it, the chocolate was melting in his mouth, dark and light chocolates intertwined.
His smile as he tasted the chocolate extended far beyond just appreciation of sugar. Here, under the stars, with Minuette at his side, he felt happy, in a way that he had not truly experienced in a long, long time.
“Gah!” Shaken from his enjoyment, he looked down in alarm to see Minuette with a wry look on her face. “Coconut,” she said, sticking out her tongue before grimacing as she swallowed. “Are you sure we can’t rewind, even for liiiittle things?”
Twilight smiled. “Positive.”
Minuette exhaled, face contorting in a pout, but the twinkle in her eyes signified that her complaints were mostly for show. “What if... hm. What if it wasn’t a matter of avoiding something bad, but missing something good?” She tilted her head to the side as she looked up at him. “Say... if I saw a beautiful shooting star, but you missed it.”
Twilight raised one eyebrow. “Why wouldn’t I have seen it?”
“You were looking at something else,” Minuette said, as she waved a hoof dismissively.
“What else would I be looking at? The sky’s the only other thing up here.” A thought surfaced from some corner of his mind. “Except for you.”
Minuette blinked, and the faintest hint of color showed in her cheeks. “Starsy, don’t be so literal. But, okay, sure. Say that I just saw the most amazing, perfectest star shooting across the night sky, but at the moment you happened to be looking in my direction instead.”
“I wouldn’t mind,” Twilight said, the words coming out plain and sure. “There’s nothing up there that’s even half as beautiful as you.”
As soon as the statement had left his lips, Twilight realized his mistake. That hadn’t been flirting, or a cunning utilization of romantic thoughts. He meant it. He really meant it. As he looked at the stunned expression on Minuette’s face, he knew that she must have realized it as well. His mouth was suddenly dry as panic bloomed anew.
Then, Minuette’s mouth curled upwards in a shy smile, and her eyes closed. Twilight realized their faces had been nearing, a movement that had seemingly happened entirely on its own. As her muzzle turned upwards to his, his heart pounded in his chest.
Their lips were less than an inch away, and he could feel her soft breath.
They were going to...
going to...
No!
Twilight clumsily backed away, scrambling to get back on his hooves. This was all wrong.
“Starsy?” Minuette asked.
He whirled around and galloped down the hill, picking up speed as he ran down the incline. He suddenly found it harder and harder to see, his eyes filling with tears.
“Starshine!” Minuette cried after him.
He couldn’t bear to look back, but he heard her hooves following him. He just had to get away. How could he have been so stupid? Why did he have to lie to her?
Minuette's voice took on a pained urgency. “Twilight Sparkle!”
He had to lie because if Minuette knew the truth, she would never have agreed to go out with him in the first place. They never would have had dinner, or laughed together over golf, or shared a moment under the stars. He never would have... never would have had these feelings that were currently tearing him up inside.
With swirls of magenta flowing through the air, Twilight dispelled the enchantments on himself. Herself. She felt a pang at that, but kept running, her wings stretching out and beating to propel herself forward even faster. She couldn’t think of anything other than to run away, as if with enough distance she could leave the terrible ache in her chest behind.
Suddenly, Twilight felt an overwhelming strangeness, the air around her crackling with powerful but invisible magic. She was running at full gallop, but the scenery around her slowed to a crawl.
It didn’t take long to discover the cause, as Minuette appeared at her side, breathing heavily. Twilight’s legs and wings were still moving, but terribly, terribly slowly, and Minuette was barely having to trot to keep up.
“Nooooooooooo fffaaaaaaiiiiiiiirrrrrr,” Twilight said.
Minuette frowned sternly. “You started it with the wings. Now hold it right there, I’m not leaving until we talk.”
It was the last thing Twilight wanted to do, but she morosely nodded her head, the motion taking a good ten seconds to complete.
With a sudden lurch, Twilight returned to full speed, flailing her hooves to come to a stop. Minuette immediately appeared right in front of her, staring with an unreadable expression.
“Why did you leave?” she asked, plainly.
Twilight’s face twisted in a bitter grin, but it belied the hollowness she felt inside. “Isn’t it obvious? I lied to you. I’m not the stallion you thought I was. I’m... I’m...”
“Twilight Sparkle,” Minuette said. “Yes, I know. I’ve known the whole time. Just how stupid do you think I am?”
Twilight’s eyes grew large. “What? How did you— No, wait. Why did you... why did you still go through with it?”
A flash of uneasiness momentarily darkened Minuette’s face. “Because at first I figured it’d be amusing to watch you make a fool of yourself.”
The statement cut Twilight right to the heart. She felt tears begin to well up in her eyes again and fought to suppress them.
Just as Minuette began to open her mouth again, Twilight spoke up, not even wanting to hear what the other mare was about to say. “Well, mission succeeded. Congratulations.” She blinked rapidly. She shouldn’t care. She shouldn’t cry.
Minuette looked pained, and even trying to hate her, Twilight only felt even worse that something she had done had caused the mare pain. “Just...” Twilight took a breath and tried to regain her composure. “Just rewind already. Undo this night. I don’t want to have to feel this way!”
“What way?” Minuette said, her voice suddenly quiet.
Twilight gazed at Minuette for a long moment, confirming what she had already known. It wasn’t just the spell messing with her hormones or orientation or any other rational explanation. Just looking at the other mare made her heart beat faster, and that in turn only intensified the pain she felt. She liked Minuette. She liked her teasing, and occasional sarcasm, and general aura of mystery. And she knew that it was a hopeless, stupid love that she could never expect to be requited.
Twilight screwed her eyes shut. “Just do it. Rewind.”
She waited, tensed and prepared for the magic to fling her back, praying that it would rip the thoughts from her head and the feelings from her heart.
“No,” Minuette said.
Twilight cracked one eye to see Minuette still standing in front of her.
“I made a promise,” Minuette said, her expression serious and unreadable. “To somepony important. No rewinding while on the date. And the date is not over until I say it is. And I say that the date’s not over until I get a goodnight kiss.”
Twilight’s eyes flew wide open. She stared as Minuette slowly walked closer, until they were practically face to face.
For a long moment they both stood, unmoving.
Then, as Twilight opened her mouth to protest, Minuette darted in, and Twilight felt a pair of warm lips press against her own.
Time stopped. Twilight knew that no temporal magic had been used, but as Minuette kissed her, it seemed as if everything else in the universe had ground to a standstill. As far as she cared, none of it mattered, nothing at all existed but the surprisingly soft lips joined to hers. It was the longest few seconds Twilight had ever experienced, in the most wonderful way. Then she felt a tongue slip between her still-parted lips, playfully swirling around hers before quickly retreating, leaving behind an intriguing flavor of... citrus?
Minuette pulled back, and Twilight involuntarily leaned forward, not wanting the moment to end. But Minuette took a step away, then another, eyes studying Twilight’s face.
Suddenly she whirled around, facing away from Twilight and hiding her expression. Twilight couldn’t even think to say or do anything. Her mind was still busy with trying to process the kiss and all the confusing emotions it brought up.
After a long pause, Minuette spoke up. “B-minus.”
The words jarred Twilight back to reality. “W-w-what?”
“B-minus,” Minuette repeated. “Solid dating fundamentals, and lucky for you, I’m going to count aggressive vandalism in your favor as ‘protecting my honor’. But you get points off for trying to run away. And... and for making me... kiss a mare.”
Twilight’s mouth opened and closed as she tried to figure out what to say. Eventually, years of pride as a student overruled the swirling emotions in her heart. “I’ve never gotten below an A! On anything. Ever!”
“Too bad,” Minuette said. “It’s still a B-minus.” Suddenly her head turned as she gazed back at Twilight.
Her eyes were smoky, and her mouth was back to an incorrigible smirk. “Guess you’ll have to try harder next time. I’m free on Tuesday. Seven o’clock?”
A whole new feeling surged in Twilight, as she somehow managed to nod mechanically. Her lips curved upwards in a smile that was still tinged with disbelief.
Twilight stood dumbfounded, staring as Minuette walked away into the night.
Of course, it helped that the other mare was deliberately swaying her hips in a remarkably flirtatious fashion.
