> The Good Parents > by PapierSam > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- > My Left, Your Left, They Left > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- “Rares, bud, I know you, and I know you'd never do this.” “Well, perhaps you don't know me.” “Look, I'm not happy to admit it,” Rainbow grimaces, “but I do know you. And – get this – I know you'd never come up with some unnecessarily over-the-top, unbelievable plan even if it was to help someone in need.” Rarity waits. “Huh,” Rainbow says after a beat. “Actually, putting it that way, it's totally your turf.” Rarity nods. “Indeed. And besides, I hardly think pretending to be my own parents to save Sweetie Belle from a lifetime's grounding is unbelievably over-the-top.” She shakes her head and sighs. “Honestly, the fact that my parents don't know half of the barbarism Sweetie and her friends get involved in is unbelievable in itself.” “Yeah. I don't think anyone anywhere has ever let that many spiders loose in the chem lab because they wanted to be the Spider Chicks.” Rarity lets out a rougher sigh. “Who on the internet is even casually selling a crate of spiders?” Rainbow shrugs and chuckles as she says, “Dunno, but Scoots told me they got a killer deal.” “Well I should be getting paid for helping her like this,” Rarity huffs. She sits on her bed with just as much fuss, across from Rainbow Dash who was sat and lazily kicks Rarity's office chair in circles. “Dude, does it really matter? I just wanted to get out this weekend.” “It's Tuesday.” “So I'll see you again Saturday night,” Rainbow says, stopping her spinning to click her tongue and give Rarity finger guns. Rarity waits with a plain expression. “Honey, if you were actually my husband, I'd have considered divorcing you for that.” “Man, you guys have no chill. I did that to Applejack and she straight up cancelled on me.” “Oh, well, she's just like that. Did the same to me when I asked her to be my father.” Rarity purses her lips. “And when I clarified that she need to be my husband, she refused to answer at all.” “Lucky I was your second, eh?” Rainbow humours dryly. “Oh, of course not,” Rarity titters. “I asked Sunset and Pinkie as well. Both had their excuses. But, I suppose, you have the least figure out of us all.” Rainbow absently picks up a pair of discarded knitting needles and drums on Rarity's desk with them. “Y'know, I don't like this conversation much.” Rarity claps her hands. “Very well then! Shall we go over the plan?” “Dude, it’s, like, three minutes.” Rainbow waves a hand lazily, then returns to drumming. “We go in, you talk to the teach’, and we get out. No biggie.” With a frown, Rarity grabs her needles from Dash. “Oh, you don't execute my share of unbelievable plans without learning that pre-planning is integral to success.” “Ugh. Fine.” “Lovely. We need to start with getting you into character,” With an excited energy, Rarity drags Rainbow by the arm to her closet. “Now, I suppose, is when I make a man out of you.” Rainbow grimaces. “I hate this already.” “Well, you can’t back out now!” Rarity holds a dress shirt against Rainbow Dash, squinting. “Hmm…you know, this may be prove more difficult than I presumed. When did you become such a girl?” “When I came out of my mama’s stomach, prob’ly,” Rainbow shrugs. Rarity faux-gags at Rainbow’s brand of humour. “Please refrain from that sort of jesting at the meeting. I wouldn’t want the teacher to think Sweetie hails from a boorish home – mostly because I don’t want her to think I hail from a boorish home,” she finishes, mumbling. “Your dad's pretty funny.” “Commenting on another's parents is a dangerous game,” Rarity warns lightly. She shuffles through her closet more. “Regardless, my father's sense of humour is more refined.” “When I came in, he was telling your mom he'd get himself pregnant just so he can justify eating for two.” Rarity stops and drops her head slightly. “I think we're doing everyone a favour with this.” “If we ever get to it.” Rainbow scrunches her face when Rarity pulls out a polo shirt. “C’mon, it’s almost seven.” “Oh, don’t you know?” Rarity hums, eyeing a sweater vest. “This family is all about being fashionably late.” “You’re late.” “Fashionably,” Rainbow adds, with finger guns. Rarity puts Rainbow’s hands down gingerly. “Our apologies. The traffic coming here was simply terrible. Right, honey?” “Well you did take an hour to choose an outfit.” When Rarity gives her a look, Rainbow hushedly adds, “We live like five minutes away! You can't really blame this on traffic.” “No,” Rarity hisses with the control of someone whose lab partner keeps letting the caged spiders out, “Traffic made us late. On the road. That we drove on. With. Our. Car.” “Yeah, okay. Sure,” Rainbow says louder with little commitment and a lot of leaning against the chair's armrest. “Ha-ha,” Rarity titters, warningly patting down the shoulder of the golf shirt Rainbow keeps wrinkling. “Ha-ha-hanyways. We’re here for Sweetie Belle’s parent-teacher meeting.” Cheerilee, who has even less investment in the conversation before her than Rainbow Dash, sighs. “That I would have to do with her parents. I know you’re not Sweetie Belle’s parents.” Rarity lets out a rushed jumble of almost-words mixed up in a panicked exhale. “Oh-ho-oh-ho-don’t-be-sillyweareplease.” “I’ve had a long night, and I deal with enough of this from Sweetie Belle,” Cheerilee mutters, pinching the bridge of her nose. “Please don’t do this.” Rarity does it anyways. “Do what? We – Sweetie’s parents – are here for the parent-teacher meeting. Why, it’s in the very name!” “I even have her baby photos!” Rainbow adds helpfully. She pulls out a wallet and presents a picture of a child, and looks at it with a smile. “Why, she was only twelve months when – wait, is this a baby picture of baby Ryan Reynolds?” “No!” Rarity bites out and puts Rainbow’s hand down again, more forcefully. “It’s our baby Sweetie Belle! Right, honey?!” “Oh. Yeah, okay. Sure.” Then, in a loud and poor imitation of a whisper, she adds, “When she was a boy, apparently.” Rarity turns completely in her seat to face Rainbow Dash with a look of a teacher's after having to clean up a chemically non-radioactive spider jailbreak. She makes a few more varyingly angry expressions and mouths out words, ending with inconspicuously motioning at Cheerilee with her head. Rainbow pauses, then confusedly shrugs. Rarity throws her hands up and twist her fingers into air-fists, wringing some invisible neck. Cheerilee watches on with an expressionless look, before sighing out, “I know it’s you, Rarity – “ “ – is our other child!” Rarity cuts in, too quickly. She drops her hands into her lap and assumes a casual posture that’s held a little too stiffly. She then seethingly adds, “Right, HONEY?!” “Yup!” Rainbow chimes in, nodding. “I even saw my women here shoot both of ‘em outta her stomach!” Rarity looks to the sky as if something up there could save her, or simply mocking her. “Dear Lord above, I wish you were shot in a stomach.” “That doesn’t make sense,” Rainbow remarks helpfully. “What doesn’t make sense is why you’re both still here,” Cheerilee claps her hands on her desk. “Or why you would choose Rainbow Dash to be the father.” “It wasn’t a choice, it was destiny,” Rainbow says solemnly. She winks at Rarity and whispers, “Had that one ready, just in case. Super slick, eh?” “Well, see?” Rarity offers, hand held out in defense of her husband, because no one makes comment on another's family. “She’s trying, isn’t she? She's just really bad at it.” Rarity and Rainbow share a look of understanding. Cheerilee chooses that moment to bolt out of her chair. “I don’t know what’s going on right now, but it’s going to stop here. Impersonation is an offense, and this bad of an impersonation is just a personal offense.” She gestures at Rarity. “You didn’t even bother to look old!” “Well, excusez moi. There are young, responsible – “ she flips her hair “ – beautiful – young women who are mothers, too.” “You said young twice," Cheerilee says in a voice so devoid of anything it's a white-coloured wall. “Well – we’re twice as young as you!” Rainbow argues, then blanches as she realises it did not sound as slick aloud as it did in her head. For the most part, Cheerilee takes it well. “Well, I am now going to have to see Sweetie Belle’s parents, along with both of yours, to discuss this and other matters. Immediately.” “Sweetie Belle and I share the same parents!” “So I will see them twice!” Cheerilee says in a shrill-almost-shout, now walking away from the desk. “I’m going to make the phone call now, and I will let Principal Celestia know.” As Cheerilee marches out of the room, Rarity drops her head into her hands and sighs. “That went swimmingly.” “It could be worse,” Rainbow says easily. Rarity raises an eye to look at her. “Hardly. Now we’re in three times as much trouble as before.” “Well, I’m not. You know how chill my parents are about everything.” “I had forgotten,” Rarity mutters. “We should have had them pose as my parents.” Rainbow leans back, sitting like having a spine is offensively un-fatherly. “You know, we still could.” “Yes! No, wait. She’s going to have to see them for you. It won’t work.” “I guess.” Rainbow scoffs. “If only she were as good at sniffing out bullies as she is sniffing out fakers.” “’T'is the teacher’s curse,” Rarity sighs. They sit there in contemplative silence for about a minute before Rarity raises herself up, slowly, as if the brilliant idea may fall to the floor and shatter. “But we could arrange something of that ilk.” “Why me, though?” “Well, you are the most level headed amongst us all,” Rarity says, smartly leaving out that Sunset went on as an undetected bully for years and could surely use some of that stealth to help a friend. “I dunno, Rarity. This sounds juvenile. Like – really contrived and set up, y'know?” “Of course it’s set up! Set up for success, should you choose to accept this mission!” “Look, I’d really like to...actually, you know what? Yeah, I’ll do it. What the heck, right?” They hear her laugh, but it comes out as a muffled buzz through the phone. “How often do I get to do crazy stuff like this? Well – more often than I should, considering who I’m talking to.” “I’m taking that as a compliment,” Rarity announces happily. “I’ve texted you a baby picture of Sweetie Belle, to help with the authenticity,” Rainbow says from over Rarity’s shoulder. “Oh, yeah, I got that. Isn’t that Ryan Reynolds?” Rarity humphs. “That’s not important. You should note that Cheerilee isn’t convinced by the common adult stereotypes, such as talking about meager traffic, showing baby pictures, or being late as all parents are always.” There’s a pause from the other end. “Okay then. Duly noted. I’ll be in touch.” The line dies, and Rarity stuffs her phone into her pocket just as Principal Celestia walks in with an air that doesn't so loudly scream I-hate-my-job like Cheerilee – more accurately, it's a resigned sigh. “Hello Rainbow Dash, Rarity.” “Yo.” “How does everyone recognise us?” Celestia opts not to answer that. “So, it seems your parents aren’t able to answer the phone right now, as usual. I’ve written a note that I want you to get signed and return to me tomorrow.” She hands Rarity a lined piece of paper decorated with what was probably writing that someone, somewhere, could consider legible. “And you should have them set up a new appointment as soon as possible. Cheerilee has had a long week.” “You didn’t call my ‘rents?” Rainbow asks. “Oh, you know as well as I that they'd just take it as a chance to go on about you,” Celestia says easily. “Yeah. It’s a blessing and a curse.” “I would comment on your parents' ways, but my line of work has taught me better that to walk that thin line.” Rarity nods in solemn agreement, then asks, “So are we free to go?” Celestia crosses her arms. “Well, Cheerilee demanded I lecture you two and set you straight, but – again – I've been at this for years and this is about as offensive as a Disney sitcom.” “So, less amusing than it is a way to pass the time,” Rarity translates. “Yes.” Celestia smiles proudly at Rarity. “I’m glad someone gets me.” “Honey, I more than get you; I know you.” Celestia nods with a thinking smile. “I feel like you do. A met-in-another-life sort of knowing.” “Agreed. Peculiar, isn't it?” “Most things are with you and your friends.” Rainbow frowns. “Are you two done being weird with each other?” “Rainbow, please,” Rarity says dismissively. “You’re making this worse than it has to be.” Rainbow slouches even more, while Celestia pretends she hadn't heard another one of Rainbow's less than tactical comment. “So then, I'll let you two go now. Do you have a ride home?” “She lives, like, five minutes away!” “We do, thank you,” Rarity answers calmly. She turns to Rainbow Dash. “Come now, dear, we have enough time to rearrange the furniture before bed.” Rarity gets up, waves Celestia goodbye, and saunters off while clutching her boring adult clutch. Rainbow groans as she pushes herself to her feet and follows after. “You don't have to do the married couple bit anymore,” Celestia calls after them. “She's not,” Rainbow says back, unexcitedly. “I can't believe – to the left – you failed – no, my left – and got us in more – oh my God, my left!” “Your left is my left, Sweetie!” Rarity shouts over her shoulder. The distraction makes her tilt the painting she and Rainbow Dash just can’t get straight. Sweetie, facing Rarity's back, makes a pencil writing motion with her right hand, then quickly says, “I was talking about Rainbow's left!” “Same left, Sweetie,” Rarity and Rainbow say in unison. Sweetie frowns, and Rarity eases her side of the frame. “Wait. Put it down, darling.” Rainbow does, but not without catching her fingers under it. She curses as colourful as herself. Both Sweetie’s and Rarity's eyes widen, the former with awe and the latter with reproach. “Not in front of the child, honey!” Rainbow chooses not to answer her preferred answer in front of the child. “You know she's not doing the married bit anymore, right?” Sweetie tells Rainbow. “She's just like that.” “I know,” Rainbow grunts as she tries to tug her fingers free. Sweetie nods slowly, as if remembering, and says, “Yeah, you do, don't you?” “Well I for one know this is tiring. Sweetie, be a dear and get us some drinks. An iced tea with – “ “I know,” Sweetie whines tiredly, already heading out the door. “Well, it seems everyone knows something today,” Rarity huffs. With the roar of a kitten, Rainbow lifts the corner of the frame and frees her fingers. Then, her burst of strength consumed, she drops the frame on the other hand holding it. When she curses this time, Rarity puts her hands on her hips. “Honestly, you weren't this uncouth when I met you.” “Yeah – gah – I was.” Rainbow stops her struggling for a second to reconsider. “Wait. Pretty sure the first thing you heard me do was swear.” Rarity pauses. “Actually, yes.” She laughs to herself fondly. “Even back then you were doing the whole married bit with moi.” “What?” Rainbow asks, looks at Rarity, thinks, then sticks out her tongue at Rarity's brand of humour. “Blegh, dude. How do you get from that to that?” “Well, you did just now, didn't you?” “Well – that's 'cause I have to deal with your weird way of saying things. I mean, look at who's got the uncouth humour now?” “Yes, yes,” Rarity says dismissively, inspecting the room. “We spend too much time together. Age-old story.” “We hardly ever see each other, dude,” Rainbow bites back, now given up on ever freeing herself. “I swear it's the first time we've spoken in a week. Wouldn't have agreed to your whole plan if – “ she catches herself, and opts to explain with a nonchalant shrug. Rarity looks back at Rainbow and giggles a bit. When she sees Rainbow glower and look at her purpling fingers, her laugh melts into concern. Then, casually yet tentatively, “Darling. Darling, are you being serious right now?” Rainbow answers again with a shrug. Rarity closes the distance between them and sits beside her. “I thought I was just your, erm, last-ditch option.” “And I thought I was yours!” Rainbow says grumpily. “No!” “Yeah!” Rainbow returns her attention to Rarity. “You went to everyone else before you came to me, and then you got all complain-y when I wasn't saying the right things or looking the right way or carrying drama sofas with enough 'oomph’!” Rarity chose then to be equally complain-y. “Perhaps. Or perhaps it's no different from you when you ask everyone else to hang out with you on the weekend and try to warm me up to the idea with a cheesy line when they decline on you.” “That's different!” “It's the same.” “No it's not,” Rainbow says, mostly out of stubbornness. She leans against the picture frame, and adds, “At least I don't go around saying I know everyone else in front of you like you’re chopped liver.” Rarity makes a face stricken between laughing and frowning. “I truly am sorry if I made you feel this way, but pardon me for not being able to read your mind.” “Well you should, 'cause I don't wanna hafta talk about these things. Look, it's not even a big deal, I don't...” she finishes with another shrug. “Dude, forget it. It's whatever. I'm prob'ly just mad that we had to move everything twice because Sweetie Belle can't tell centimeters from inches or left from right.” “She also can't tell sparkling water from regular water, which is probably why she's taking so long with the drinks.” “What did you feed her?” “Heaven knows. Fact of the matter is,” Rarity puts a hand on Rainbow's free one, “it's fine to bring these things up. Sometimes things bother us, such as our massive Ryan Reynolds memoriums not being centered when viewed via the outside window from the last ten steps to the front door.” Rainbow shrugs empathetically, but frowns quickly after. “Y'know, with that perspective, my beef's pretty chill. What did you guys have growing up?” “Neglectfully relaxed parents and an unhealthy dosage of Disney movies.” “Ah.” “More to the point: I'm happy to hear you want to spend time with moi, as I want to spend time with you.” Rarity squeezes Rainbows hand, and Rainbow returns it with a painful smile, mostly from having her fingers jammed for too long. “Thanks. I don't wanna have this conversation ever again, though. Not the kind to talk about these things, yknow?” “Oh, I know,” Rarity says with a nod. “I know you.” “HEY GUYS I just brought Sprite is that okay?” Sweetie calls out as she enters with a tray of cups. “Oh dear Lord, Sweetie Belle, we've been over this a hundred times!” Rarity shouts impatiently. “Why do you have to argue with everyone like your married to them?!” Sweetie hastily returns with a squeak. “We might as well be because I want a divorce!” “We're sisters!” “Why, I haven't the foggiest what you're talking about!” Twilight says as cheerfully as she can behind a mouthful of moustache and a poorly feigned accent. Sunset nods, her hair bun bobbing with it. “Yes, yes. Honey, show her the baby pictures.” “Of course!” Twilight rummages through her wallet, unbeknownst to Cheerilee's increasingly deadpan stare. “Here it is. Our dear, sweet baby Rarity – oh, I saw this photo on Rarity's Ryan Reynolds wall.” Cheerilee drops her head to her desk with a resonating thump, and Sunset, Twilight, and Rarity share a look. Sunset then turns back to Rarity. “So I noticed what you did with your room. You can totally see the poster from outside, it's great.” Rarity nods. “I know.”