> The Filing Cabinet of Love > by Chaotic Dreams > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- > Relationship Status? It's Complicated. > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- “Are you absolutely sure that you’re sure that that’s absolutely everything?” Twilight asked, peeking up from the top of her latest checklist. She’d sprung for a deluxe model given the perceived importance of the tasks to be checked off for what she could only have assumed would be an epic adventure, ranging from illuminated illustrations to calligraphic lettering to finely crafted acid-free, water-resistant parchment. Unfortunately, however, such preparedness seemed to be entirely lost on Cadence, who merely rolled her eyes with a small smile, having only requested that Twilight write down three tasks. The fact that the checklist practically begged to have the rest of its space filled, space that snaked out of the room and down the flight of stairs beyond, was irrelevant. “I’m sure that I’m sure,” Cadence promised, not-so-subtly checking the clock on the wall behind Twilight. “How about we go over them one last time, just to be positively certain that--” “Twilight, the airship will be leaving in fifteen minutes,” Cadence said. “Shining Armor and Flurry Heart are waiting on me. It’s just a week long house-sitting while we’re away on a simple family vacation. I know you’ll do fine.” “But it’s house-sitting for a castle, technically the seat of power for an entire empire!” Twilight whined, resorting to tactics that had always proven successful back when Cadence was still her babysitter. “Fine,” Cadence huffed at last, though she couldn’t help but add a chuckled, “But only if you stop it with the puppy dog eyes.” “Task One,” Twilight read. “Make sure the Crystal Empire’s magical defenses hold.” “Right,” Cadence agreed. “Task Two,” Twilight went on. “Make sure the castle stays clean.” “Uh-huh,” Cadence said with a nod. “Task Three,” Twilight finished. “Don’t go overboard. Wait, what do you mean by that?” “I mean that you should relax,” Cadence said, giving a genuine smile. “This should be an easy rest for you, too.” “Right,” Twilight said, returning the smile. “See you in a week!” Cadence called as she hurried out the door. Twilight waved with a half-smile before rereading the mostly empty checklist a few more times. To have that much free space on a checklist simply seemed... Wrong. Even the tasks present were irritatingly vague, simple, and open to interpretation. Did Cadence expect an attack? Perhaps the empire’s magical defenses could use a tune up as well as regular maintenance. But what if some evil entity attacked whilst the modifications were being implemented? That could leave the crystal ponies even more vulnerable to attack than if the defenses were left alone... Unless the threat had figured out a way to overcome the current defenses, and only by strengthening them could the empire be truly safe... “Deep breaths,” Twilight murmured to herself, closing her eyes and inhaling and exhaling slowly. “Cadence is right. This should be easy, fun, and restful.” Rolling up the checklist and placing it on the table of what served as the family’s dining area, at least when not holding fanciful banquets for visiting dignitaries, Twilight swept her gaze across the already fairly orderly and clean environs. The floor was, as always, spotless crystal without a hint of chips, cracks, dust, or grime. The magical lights in the lamp hanging from the ceiling shone as brightly as ever, and the tapestries hanging from the walls were free of wrinkles and freshly pressed. Even the bookshelf in the neighboring room that served as the family’s living room was clean, pristine, and shone with a sheen. The bookshelf was still organized alphabetically by author in categories based on subgenre, something Twilight had taken care of during her last visit. Flurry Heart’s toys were stowed away in a toybox, and Shining Armor’s favorite chair looked just as lightly used as Cadence’s favored nearby couch. I might not have to do anything at all, Twilight thought to herself. In fact, I may even grow a little bored. Oh, well. She’d packed plenty of books to read, and if and when she exhausted her supply, there was always the nearby Crystal Empire library to peruse. Twilight made a last sweep of the royal family’s private living quarters, all of which was equally tidy, save for one room that appeared, most oddly, to be locked. Across the hall from the display room where Shining Armor stored his regalia from his days on the royal guard, Twilight found a mostly nondescript door bearing a faint carving of Cadence’s cutie mark. A small plaque denoted the room beyond as ‘Love Archive.’ Twilight furrowed her brow. What could a ‘love archive’ possibly be? Twilight blushed, her eyes widening as she briefly feared it might be where Shining and Cadence got more experimental with their marital relationship, but she quickly dismissed the thought. The word ‘archive’ certainly didn’t give on the impression of a love nest. Whatever it was, Cadence presumably wanted it left alone, if she’d left it locked. Last Twilight checked, none of the other doors in the castle were locked, save the front door, which was easily openable via a spell Twilight knew by heart. Twilight turned to leave, but her curiosity got the better of her. What if Cadence had simply forgotten to unlock this area of the castle? What if it was the first room so far that actually did need some tidying up? Biting her lip but lowering her horn all the same, Twilight magically fiddled with the lock until it clicked open. Taking a deep breath, Twilight stepped inside the room beyond, only to be immediately disappointed. The room was small, windowless, and mostly featureless. Its lone occupants were a desk, a chair, and a filing cabinet. Nevertheless, Twilight pulled open one of the filing drawers and pulled out a file. “Cinnamon Swirl,” Twilight read, opening the manilla folder to find a photograph of a young earth pony mare in a barista uniform serving coffee at a cafe in some distant city. “Currently single. Mildly interested in a delivery stallion. Not actively seeking a relationship. Happy with her circumstances at the moment.” Was Cadence running some sort of dating service? Or... A spy ring? Just what was this mass of records? Other files revealed similar stories. Cumulus Current was a stallion in Manehatten fruitlessly pursuing the affections of his boss, Big Scoop, at the newspaper agency where he worked. She had no interest in a relationship of any kind, now or ever. Cumulus’ best friend and roommate, Buttercup, however, had secret feelings for him, and a footnote indicated that they would likely come together on their own soon. In Los Pegasus, a down-on-their luck trapeze artist was about to fall for the circus’ juggler. An older couple in Appaloosa were happily married, had been for decades, and looked like they would stay together indefinitely. An aquarium tour guide in Fillydelphia was deeply in love with her long-term partner, but would leave them after discovering they’d been cheating, and then move across country to a remote small town where she’d rekindle an old flame with a high school sweetheart who would prove faithful. There was no way Cadence could have been keeping track of what looked like countless ponies across Equestria through conventional means. Twilight was well aware of Cadence’s title as the Princess of Love, but Twilight had never imagined that meant keeping tabs on the romantic relationships, past, present, and possibly future, of what may very well be everypony in Equestria. Twilight had no such records for friend networks, not that she’d understand how to even begin creating such an archive in the first place. It would have to be updated constantly, not to mention how hard it would be to know immediately when every change took place. “Just what is all of this?” Twilight murmured to herself. Archives and records and histories and notes were one thing, but this looked to be something much more grand in scope. After a bit of searching, Twilight even found more familiar records. She felt a bit guilty reading them, but after spotting the names in question, she couldn’t resist. Applejack was listed as currently single and uninterested in a relationship anytime soon. Though she might be open to somepony several years down the road, if the right pony came along, the family farm and its immediate beneficiaries would always be her priority. AJ was not opposed to enjoying the view of some of the more muscular stallions that Sweet Apple Acres hired as extra workers in the busy seasons, though, so long as they remained polite at all times and put in a hard day’s work. Twilight had to smile at Rarity’s profile listing her little fiasco with Blueblood a few years ago and the long list of attributes noted as ‘Rarity’s Guidelines for the Perfect Gentlecolt,’ ‘chivalry and dashing fashion sense’ being at the top of the list. Rainbow Dash’s file confirmed suspicions that Twilight had long held, though she hadn’t quite grasped just how extensive Dash’s orientation went as somepony interested in ‘anypony who consents.’ Twilight had to shut Fluttershy’s folder almost immediately, her cheeks feeling as if the blush filling them were aflame. Who could have guessed that her sweet, bashful demeanor hid someone who wanted a relationship like that? Others were even more interesting, if in different ways. Pinkie Pie’s file seemed to be written in gibberish, her profile picture upside down. Both Princess Celestia and Luna’s profiles were covered in blocks of censoring ink, whatever words they had once contained long made indecipherable. Atop the masses of black ink on either profile were the cursive messages, ‘Stay out of our private lives, Cadence.’ Twilight had to chuckle at that. Discord’s folder was, perhaps most surprisingly of all, empty. A sticky note on the outside of the folder read, in Cadence’s familiar penmanship, ‘No. Just... No. I don’t get it, and I don’t want to try.’ Twilight put off opening her own file the longest, but at last, she relented. “My dear friend Twilight Sparkle is the Princess of Friendship and a hero of Equestria many times over,” Twilight read, a warm buzz of pride glowing in her chest as she read her old mentor’s praise. “She is currently not in a relationship and, like most of her close friends, not seeking one at this time. She is content with the state of affairs at the moment. However, she is most attracted to kind, heroic pegasus stallions and may consider a relationship should she ever find the time to stop constantly saving Equestria and work up her courage enough to try a romantic relationship.” Twilight narrowed her eyes at that last remark, only to widen them as the words shimmered and rewrote themselves. “Upon reading her own profile in the Love Archive, Twilight resolved to work up her courage and be more open about her romantic interests,” Twilight read, only for the words to then change again. “After fearing being too open about her romantic interests, Twilight became more guarded than ever.” The sentences kept shifting over and over as Twilight reread them, seemingly reacting to her thoughts just as much as her thoughts reacted to what she’d read. Twilight at last closed the file, fearing she might read it forever. At the very least, Twilight supposed that cleared up how Cadence was able to keep up with the ever-shifting state of romantic relationships in Equestria. The archive updated themselves. Still, though, an errant thought refused to quit plaguing Twilight’s mind. If the world at large altered the archive, could the inverse also be true? Twilight frowned, not quite certain that was an answer she wished to know. Still, perhaps a small experiment was in order, something harmless and easily undone. Besides, if she changed her own record, she’d hardly be meddling with anypony’s personal lives. Well... Anymore than she had already by peeking at them through the records, she supposed. Opening her file once more, Twilight grabbed a quill from the desk and added a note to her own records. If Twilight were ever to go on a date, she would hope that the date would bring her a bouquet of flowers as a nice gesture, Twilight wrote. Surely nothing bad could come of something so simple... Right? Twilight sat still for a moment, not really feeling any different. She tried to picture an imaginary date with the sort of aforementioned kind and heroic pegasus she supposedly found most attractive, waiting at the door of her castle back in Ponyville for him to arrive. In her mind’s eye, there was a knock at the door. She opened it to see a stallion she did not know, presumably an amalgamation of different ponies she’d seen over the years, made up entirely for this hypothetical scenario. He smiled at her. They exchanged greetings. She invited him inside the castle, where they proceeded to have a nice dinner, discuss their favorite texts on magical theory, and then went their separate ways. It was a nice thought, but throughout the whole daydream, Twilight couldn’t help but feel an eerie well of disappointment at her date rising ever higher within her. Why hadn’t he brought her flowers? Twilight shivered at the odd confluence of thoughts. She’d never had a strong opinion one way or the other about bouquets, but now, for reasons that made no logical sense to her, it mattered to her quite a lot. Twilight shook her head, clearing away the thought experiment, before curiously restarting it. She thought of the same imaginary stallion arriving at her castle for essentially the same imaginary date, only this time, he offered a collection of the most splendid roses. Her heart skipped a beat, and she quickly pulled him inside. The roses smelled heavenly, and her opinion of the dream date somehow skyrocketed as a result, despite once again having no logical basis. Twilight shivered, breaking herself from her reverie. She quickly grabbed a jar of parchment-pale paste on the desk that she presumed was meant for just such an occasion, wiping a smear of the stuff over her added line of text. The goo dried, and it was if the line had never been written. Twilight felt with relief the thought about flowers disappearing with it, making her instead feel rather uncomfortable that she had cared so much about them, even if just for a few minutes. This was a strange archive indeed and, in a way, a bit frightening. To think, the destinies of ponies across Equestria, or at least a part of their destinies, could be written, erased, and rewritten without them ever even knowing, much less having any say in the matter. Twilight sincerely hoped Cadence knew what she was doing, but then again, why wouldn’t she? In addition to already being the official Princess of Love, if Princesses Celestia and Luna knew about this ‘Love Archive’ and hadn’t stopped her from running it, then it must mean she had their approval. Maybe Cadence didn’t even alter facts to any great degree unless a positive difference wouldn’t occur otherwise? Twilight smiled contentedly as she imagined Cadence using the archive to arrange for two star-crossed lovers to be reunited if fate would have kept them apart, or helping those in bad relationships see that they deserved better. Whatever the case, Twilight felt it was none of her business. Her curiosity sated and not feeling too guilty about the whole ordeal, seeing as she hadn’t actually changed anything permanently, she gathered up the folders she’d extracted and turned to put them back in the filing cabinet. However, she realized with a worried frown that she hadn’t exactly kept tabs on where she’d pulled these files. Upon further inspection, there didn’t seem to be any rhyme or reason whatsoever to the order of the files. It was all a random hodgepodge of names and locations. How Cadence found anypony in here was a mystery. Should I just put them back at random? Twilight thought. Maybe Cadence has a system of her own... And I just messed it all up? Twilight took a few more deep breaths. I can fix this, Twilight told herself. If I organized Cadence and Shining’s bookshelf, I can organize a filing cabinet. Maybe it’ll help Cadence more this way? Biting her lip but seeing no alternative, Twilight set her gathered files back on the desk and began taking out more in batches. By the time she was done, she told herself, this would be the most organized filing cabinet in Equestria. Besides, since when had a bit of alphabetization hurt anypony? Getting all of the files out in the first place would be the hardest part, second only to perhaps finding what would be the very first file in the new system. Or, perhaps, she should go for a system subdivided by geographical region? Or separate files into groups based on relationship status? This may be more difficult than I had thought, Twilight mentally muttered. At last, though, Twilight had extracted the last batch of files. The tiny study was almost buried in stacks of folders, far more than should have possibly been able to fit in such a tiny filing cabinet, much less the room itself. Twilight grabbed the top bit of the nearest stack and flipped through the files, pondering which organizational method she should employ, if not a combination, and to what degree, when her stomach grumbled. She glanced back at the towers of paper, but relented. Lunch first, Twilight thought. I’ll think better on a full stomach, and these files aren’t going anywhere. With a flash of violet magic, Twilight teleported herself away to the kitchen. After a brief shudder in her absence, the towers of paper toppled over onto each other, their contents scattering everywhere. . . . Far, far away from the frozen snow fields of northern Equestria and the magically protected oasis of the Crystal Empire, out across the green pastures of farms and prairies, auburn sand dunes of deserts, and leafy canopies and flowing azure roads of forests and rivers, Cinnamon Swirl grabbed the latest order at her cafe. Despite owning and running this cafe for a few years now, Cinnamon still thought that the thick, strong scent of coffee, in all its styles and permutations, was absolutely delectable. She trotted outside to a sidewalk table with the coffee tray in her mouth, setting the steaming beverage down in front of one of her regular customers, who thanked her with a tip of his hat. “How’s the delivery business?” Cinnamon asked. “Steady, and pleasant this time of year,” the burgundy unicorn stallion replied with a smile, gently blowing on his coffee. Cinnamon nodded, biting her lip before heading back inside her cafe. He’d always been a cute one, but she wasn’t up for anything serious right now. She was happy enough to exchange a few pleasantries whenever he picked up coffee. Still, he did have rather dreamy eyes, particularly when he wore that classy evening eye shadow, his long, thick lashes expertly done up. Wait, what? Cinnamon, shook her head. Where had that thought come from? To her knowledge, she had never seen the delivery stallion outside wear makeup, much less have feminine eyelashes. Or a soft, seafoam turquoise coat she wanted to run her hooves though, or feathery wings that Cinnamon imagined wrapped comfortingly around her. The image of a petite pegasus mare filled Cinnamon’s mind, somepony she had never seen, but whose loving gaze sent a thrill through her. What’s happening to me? Cinnamon thought with a blush. I’ve never been into mares... And who even is that?! I feel like I know her... Like I want to kiss her... Cinnamon looked out the window at the delivery stallion, sipping his coffee. She could tell he looked handsome, but she could hardly see why she’d ever thought of him as cute. But that pegasus mare... Cinnamon couldn’t get the vision out of her head. Cinnamon had to find her. . . . Cumulus Current trotted into his apartment with a dejected sigh, tossing a bouquet of flowers onto the kitchen table and slumping into the couch. Another stallion poked his head out of a bedroom down the hall. “Rough day at the paper?” asked the newcomer, joining Current in the living area. “I don’t know how to get Big Scoop to notice me, Buttercup,” Cumulus muttured, glancing forlornly at the bouquet. “She has paintings of flowers all over her office. When I left real flowers on her desk, though, she threw them in the trash.” “I’ve told you this before,” Buttercup said with a nervous chuckle. “I don’t think she’s into you. I don’t think she’s into anypony. Maybe you should look into other ponies... Perhaps somepony who knows you better than anypony else...” Cumulus raised an eyebrow at his roommate, before realizing what his friend meant. “You mean--” Cumulus began. “Cumulus Current!” shouted a slightly muffled mare’s voice. The front door to the apartment burst inwards, wood splintering. A huffing unicorn mare stood in its place, her eyes wild, her horn aglow. “Big Scoop?” Cumulus gasped. “What are you doing here? How did you know where I live?” “Shut up, you silver tongued casanova,” Big Scoop grumbled, stomping her way through the apartment towards Cumulus. Her magic effortlessly tossed tables and chairs out of the way, smashing them against the walls. She glowered over Cumulus, nostrils fuming steam, eyes narrowed. “Uh, Big Scoop?” Cumulus gulped. “What do you--” “Dance with me,” the mare growled. “What?” Big Scoop enveloped Cumulus in her horn’s aura and yanked him up from the couch. “I don’t understand what’s going on,” Cumulus stammered, looking to Buttercup for help. Buttercup, however, had acquired a glazed look in his eyes. He looked between both Cumulus and Big Scoop with a bored and almost irritated expression. “I don’t either!” Big Scoop laughed, spinning Cumulus around in her glow as if trying to make him pull off a pirouette. “Do you know how to dance? Because I don’t, but I can’t stop trying!” “You two have fun,” Buttercup called over his shoulder as he trotted out of the apartment. “Wait, where are you going?” Cumulus asked. “I thought we were starting to... You and I...” “Love is a chemical construct for the weak and short sighted,” Buttercup scoffed. “I have but one true ‘love,’ the love of any artist. The love of vision, of molding the public consciousness into an elevated existence higher than their mad, droll drivel. The world shall awaken into new forms of ascendancy beneath the majesty of my glorious creations. After all, it takes a true visionary to carve sculptures out of butter.” . . . All across Equestria, similar events were unfolding, or perhaps more accurately, collapsing into chaos. In Los Pegasus, a third-rate trapeze artist had fallen in love with the ground on which they walked, and refused to perform their act in the horrid open space of the air, much less jump, or even raise one hoof above the ground. In an Appaloosan retirement home, orderlies and other elderly residents ran and hid from a constant barrage of tapioca pudding bombs, traps cobbled together from false teeth, and walkers and canes repurposed into weapons. The makeshift war only had two real participants, partners in a once a loving couple whose marriage had withstood more decades than most ponies had been alive. Where they had once loved each other, it seemed that now all they loved was the sweet taste of victory. Fillydelphia’s aquarium struggled to restrain a once quiet tour guide from leaping into the shark tank. She constantly screamed that she had to learn how to be a seapony if she was ever to be with her true love. Compared to the events unfolding in Ponyville, though, the rest of Equestria could accurately be described as relatively tame. . . . “...And that’s how you do it,” Applejack said with a grin as the tree behind her shuddered, its bounty of apples falling perfectly into the waiting baskets. Her hoofprints were still faintly indented in the bark. “It’s about the location of the applebuck as much as the force.” “Yes, ma’am,” said the latest hired stallion, looked rather impressed. Applejack stepped aside, and the stallion positioned himself as he’d seen her do, before rearing up to try his own mighty kick. “Wait!” Applejack shouted. “What is it?” the stallion asked. “Something... In your eyes...” Applejack breathed, her heart pounding. “What?” the stallion asked, backing up a bit as Applejack walked forward, leaning uncomfortably close. “What about my eyes?” “So... beautiful...” Applejack whispered, her eyes wide, her vision transfixed on the stallion’s own. “Must... Kiss...” “Uh, this is a little fast, Miss Applejack,” the stallion stammered. “I mean, you’re sure pretty and all, but we just met, and maybe--” “You’re right,” Applejack said with a bitter huff, leaning back. “Your eyes only barely reflect me.” “What?” the stallion asked. “I have to find a mirror!” Applejack said. “Or a pond, or paint somepony to look like me, or... Something!” Applejack galloped off, blushing hotly each time she saw so much as a wisp of her own mane or a glimpse of her own hooves, leaving behind a very confused stallion. . . . Across Ponyville, Rainbow Dash was snoozing on a low lying cloud, having the most peculiar dream. She kicked her hooves a few times, muttering something, a string of drool dripping from her mouth and finally dropping to the ground below. She smacked her lips a few times, as if about to nibble on something. “Rainbow Dash?” asked a quiet, almost melodic voice. “No!” Rainbow gasped as she woke with a start, falling off her cloud and barely catching herself before she crashed to the ground. “I was almost at the best part.” Shaking her head to free it from the post-sleep haze of the odd dream, Rainbow turned to the speaker to see Fluttershy, or at least, the vague outline of Fluttershy. The mare standing before Rainbow was clad in a skintight jumpsuit of a shiny black substance. What looked like a utility belt held everything from whips to hoof-cuffs to a bridle and even what looked like a rubber duck. Fluttershy’s face, the only bit of her free from the black suit, smiled sweetly. “Uh... Flutters... Is that you?” Rainbow asked. “Good morning, Rainbow Dash,” Fluttershy replied. Rainbow stood silently for a few moments, not quite believing what she was seeing. “I... Didn’t know you were into that sort of stuff...” Rainbow broke the silence at last. “Oh, I’m not,” Fluttershy said. “But, you’re wearing--” “I used to be,” she added. “I was ashamed, and I kept it all a secret. But this morning, I woke up and felt... Different. I don’t like that stuff anymore, or any stuff like that anymore, but I like the way it looks. It’s sort of a neat fashion, don’t you think?” Rainbow was silent once more. “Rainbow...?” Fluttershy asked. Rainbow, still saying nothing, trotted past Fluttershy and pressed her nose against the glass of a nearby window. Rainbow’s eyes widened at the stunning vision inside, her mouth agape, her tongue lolling out. Beautifully, creamy tan with just a hint of whitish underpinnings, the gorgeous entity within was tall and thickset. They towered over everypony else in the room, but somehow, despite looking positively amazing, they were alone. Rainbow entered the open door by the window, trotted up to the object of her affection, leaned forward, and ran her tongue along its length. “So delicious,” Rainbow said with a quiver. “Wow,” Fluttershy said as she followed Rainbow inside. “I never knew you to be so hungry for pancakes.” . . . At the Carousel Boutique, Rarity adjusted her glasses as she casually flipped through the latest catalogue. She’d designed every outfit on its glossy pages, of course, but she had to make sure each photograph showed off their best features for any potential clients before approving the proof for mass distribution. Each model stallion or mare looked all too happy to be showcasing the finest garments in Equestria, and she had to admit, the advertising team had done a good job of picking the right ponies for each outfit. Their heights and builds and even coat colors complimented each dress or suit or casual outfit excellently. Perhaps a little too excellently. Rarity furrowed her brow, analyzing the page she was on more closely. The mare in the photograph looked positively ravishing in her dress... But then again, so did the stallion in his suit on the next page. Rarity flipped through the pages, her heart beating faster as she poured over the photographs. The same model was never used twice, and each looked better than the last. Rarity took a deep breath and closed the catalogue. What had come over her? She’d always remained professional when engaged in business matters, even if the individuals in question looked so enticing. She glanced instead at the personal photographs adorning her desk. She smiled happily at the portrait of her family, but her heart skipped a beat when she looked at the picture of her friends in Ponyville. She’d never thought of any of them as anything more than dear companions, but now... Dash was so fierce, and Fluttershy, so sweet, and Pinkie Pie-- “What’s up, Rarity?” asked a peppy voice. Rarity nearly leapt out of her seat as she spun around, coming face to face with Pinkie Pie herself. Rarity felt flush, leaning back nervously. “I’m afraid I’m not feeling well, darling,” Rarity said. “Maybe we should save this visit for another time...” Or you could stick around, and we could snuggle... an errant thought crossed Rarity’s mind. No! What am I thinking?! Pinkie Pie cocked her head. “Feeling ‘different’ today?” Pinkie asked. “Yes... how did you know?” Rarity asked in turn. “Usually, I’m the weirdest one in Ponyville,” Pinkie said. “Today, though, I’ve got some competition.” “What do you mean?” “Well, Dashie’s eating a stack of pancakes, Fluttershy is wearing dominatrix gear, Applejack is kissing a mirror, and that’s just the ponies I saw on my way over here,” Pinkie replied. “Wait, what?” Rarity asked, shuddering as she felt even hotter at the idea of her friends doing exactly what Pinkie was describing, despite not knowing why. In fact, it seemed that the thought of anypony at all, doing absolutely anything, was quite intoxicating. “The other two I understand as odd, but what’s unusual about Rainbow Dash eating pancakes?” “You’d know if you saw her eating them,” Pinkie said. “Do you feel anything off about yourself?” Rarity asked after a moment. “Perhaps the worst aberration of any of them!” Pinkie Pie suddenly shouted. “Yesterday, I was a mare who loved to make others smile and laugh. But today... I’m a mare who loves to make others laugh and smile!” Rarity waited for elaboration, which failed to come. “How is that any different?” Rarity asked. “I don’t even know who I am anymore!” Pinkie Pie wailed. “I’m a monster!” . . . Back in the kitchen of the Crystal Empire castle, Twilight had just finished her meal of a light sandwich and a glass of orange juice. Having washed the dish on which she had eaten said sandwich, dried it, put it back in its cabinet, and then extracted all the dishes from the cabinet and reorganized them based on seasonal theming, shape, size, and quality of porcelain, Twilight at last smiled contentedly and teleported back into the study of the Love Archive. She landed in a sea of mixed up files and scattered pages. “No!” Twilight gasped. “What have I done?!” Maybe this didn’t affect anything, she thought frantically. I can fix this, I have to, before Cadence-- “Twilight?” asked an all-too-familiar voice. Twilight flinched, but sighed and struggled her way out of the overflow of files. She stumbled out onto the floor hallway beyond the study to find Cadence herself. Twilight looked up at her old mentor with a pained, forced smile, and was met with a stern glare. “Oh, uh, hello, Cadence,” Twilight stammered, picking herself up off the floor. “Back so soon? How was your vacation? Enjoy the beach?” “We were still aboard the airship, about an hour out of the Crystal Empire,” Cadence replied with a sigh. “I thought something might be wrong when Shining Armor kept eyeing the air stewardesses. I knew something was wrong when the teenager in the next row started serenading Discord with a kazoo.” “Discord was there?” Twilight asked. “No,” Cadence said. “But he appeared briefly to take the kazoo, call it his ex-wife, hand it back to the teenager, and then vanish again. After that, I had the pilot bring us back. It’s a good thing that, being the Princess of Love, I didn’t have to worry about being ‘affected’ myself by what I could only assume was edits to the Love Archive. I see that I was correct.” “I’m sorry, Cadence,” Twilight whimpered. “I was just trying to organize them, but it looks like I’ve ruined everything...” “It’s alright, Twilight,” Cadence said with a comforting grin. With a flash of her horn, Cadence lifted the sea of folders and papers, sending them all shifting about, reorganizing themselves before finally slipping them back into the filing cabinet, supposedly in the same order they had been in before Twilight entered. “It’s partially my fault,” Cadence admitted. “You were right when you said I should give more specific instructions. If I had mentioned to leave this room alone, none of this would have happened. Still, though, it’s not too much trouble. Everyone should be returning to normal now.” “Were things crazy out there?” Twilight asked, dreading the answer. “A bit,” Cadence agreed. “But it was actually pretty amusing. Nopony was hurt. In a week, I’m sure everypony will be looking back on this moment and laughing. For now, though, why don’t you go help Shining Armor unpack?” “You’re not going on your vacation after all?” Twilight asked. “I think we’ll put that on hold for now,” Cadence said. “A quiet week at home will also be nice. You’re welcome to stay as long as you want, Twilight, but you’re free to go back to Ponyville if you so desire.” Twilight frowned, her eyes moistening. “I guess I’m not cut out of a simple house-sitting task after all,” Twilight said quietly. “It’s fine, Twilight, truly,” Cadence said, drawing Twilight into a hug with one of her wings. Twilight hugged her back, tightly. After making absolutely sure that Cadence wasn’t mad at her, Twilight said her goodbyes to Shining Armor and Flurry Heart before heading back to Ponyville. Once Cadence was quite certain that Twilight was well and surely gone, she let out a relieved sigh and a slight chuckle. As annoying as it had been to see Shining eyeing other mares and the general chaos of an airship full of ponies gone mad, Cadence couldn’t really bring herself to blame Twilight too harshly. After all, even if nopony remembered it due to some emergency memory magic cast by Celestia herself, Twilight’s little escapade was nothing compared to what had happened during Cadence’s first week trying to oversee the filing cabinet of love.