Every Year I Stop You

by Lets Do This

First published 28th of September, 2023

Just how long has Hitch been stopping Sunny from sneaking into things? And why is it so important, not just for her sake, but for all of Equestria?

In the New Generation movie, Canterlogic has only been around for 20 moons. So why does Hitch say he stops Sunny every year? Just how long has Hitch been stopping Sunny from sneaking into things? And why is it so important, not just for her sake, but for all of Equestria?

Here's a look at the backstory leading up to Sunny and Hitch's confrontation in the New Generation movie, and also on some of the mysteries surrounding Sunny's life in Maretime Bay in general.

(Marked AU because this takes things in a different direction than the Make Your Mark series.)

The Lighthouse

North Star Point was a swath of green dotted with shrubs, beneath a brilliant blue sky with white clouds, plus the occasional banking seabird. At its height, near the cliff-edge, stood the lighthouse.

Peaceful, picturesque... and isolated.

The small amber-coated, green-maned colt trotting up its front path paused to stare up at it. And as usual, whenever Hitch felt uncertain, questions sprang to mind:

Why a lighthouse, when there aren't any boats on the bay, or docks even? When ponies don't even go swimming, except when they fall over the railing on Shore Street and have to be fished out? And a lighthouse is meant to protect ponies from something, even if it's just fog at night. So what is this protecting us from?

Hitch shook his head. They were familiar questions with no ready answer. Questions that fillies and colts quickly learned not to ask in school, because all they got you was a displeased look and a reminder to focus on the lesson.

And, Hitch added to himself, what am I even doing here? When everypony in town tells me I should stay away?

He had no answer to that either. Shaking his head, Hitch trotted to the door and knocked.

Or at least, tried to. At the tap of his hoof it clicked open, then swung wide.

"Uh, hello?"

Hitch peered inside, then cautiously stepped in. The living room beyond was unoccupied and quiet. Same for the galley area to the right, and the office nook in back.

Puzzled, Hitch trotted further into the room.

And heard the door slam behind him.

Whirling, he stared. Nopony there. He turned about in a slow circle... nopony. He trotted over to the kitchen area, checked behind the island. Then across to the living area, where he checked behind the couch and chairs.

Nopony. Nopony at all.

He was starting to get just a little nervous, a little anxious. Not frightened, not at all. Just... nervous.

"Um... hello? Anypony?"

Then he heard the stifled giggling, coming from right behind him.

"Sunny..."

The orange, rose-maned filly trotted around in front of him, grinning sheepishly. "Sorry, Hitch. It was too good to pass up. I was trying on these new socks Dad got me, see?" She lifted a forehoof, showing off a purple-and-orange striped hoof sock. "They're for when the floors are cold in winter. And then you knocked at the door. And I suddenly got the idea to hide behind it and follow you around, keeping behind you all the time. Got you real good, didn't I?"

"Oh, yeah," Hitch agreed. "You got me, all right. Never heard a thing. You practicing to be a burglar or something?"

"Hey, that's an idea!" Sunny beamed. "You wanna help me break into a super-secret vault?"

"Um... sure?" Hitch was still getting used to Sunny's unusual spur-of-the-moment games. He followed along as she tip-hoofed across the room, to the office area in back, and the desk against the back wall. She tugged the socks off her hooves, then peered around cagily.

"You be the lookout, while I pick the lock." Digging in her mane with a hoof, Sunny produced a piece of bent wire. She stuck it in the keyhole of the left-side cabinet, then worked it about industriously, tongue between her teeth.

"Hey, isn't that your Dad's desk?"

"Shh! It's a bank vault," Sunny said. "And there's treasure inside. Arrr!"

"Huh? I thought we were burglars. Are we playing pirates now?"

"We are! Arrr! We're pirate burglars!"

Rolling his eyes, Hitch uneasily stood watch as Sunny jiggered the lock. "Are you sure we should be doing this? Won't your Dad be upset?"

"Aha!" Sunny shouted. She flung open the unlocked cabinet, then reached in... to pull out a box of gingersnaps. "Told you there was treasure in here." About to take some herself, she suddenly remembered and politely held the box out. "Do you like these?"

"Sure, thanks." Hitch helped himself to one -- my share of the loot, he thought guiltily. "Where is your Dad, anyways?"

Sunny shrugged. "Down in town, looking up something at the library. He told me to keep busy and stay out of trouble."

"And... you breaking into his desk is keeping out of trouble?" Hitch eyed her doubtfully, then bit into the cookie.

As he did so, the front door swung open, and Professor Starshine walked in. "Hey, Sunny! Oh, hello, Hitch. Good to see you again."

Caught red-hoofed, Hitch shoved the rest of the cookie in his mouth and gulped it down. The sharpness of the ginger made his eyes water. "Uh, hello, sir. We were just, uh... I mean..."

"Oh! You got it open, Sunny. Nice work." Argyle trotted over and ruffled Sunny's mane fondly. "But remember," he added with a stern look, "if you're trying to learn about locks and locksmithing to help ponies someday, all you have to do is ask. If you're aiming to become some kind of hardened criminal mastermind here, then I can't help you with that, okay?"

"Okay, Daddy," Sunny replied seriously. Then she immediately brightened up. "Oh! I finished my math homework. Lemme go get it."

Bounding over to the lift platform, Sunny rode it upwards, heading for her room on the second floor. And leaving a very puzzled Hitch staring up at her father.

"Sir? Aren't you upset? That Sunny was breaking into your desk?"

Argyle gently chuckled. "Who do you think hid the cookies in there in the first place, so she wouldn't eat them all? And then oh-so-conveniently left her on her own?"

"But..."

Argyle gave him an understanding look. "Ponies are who they are, Hitch. You can't hope to change them, not really. Especially the bright, curious ones like Sunny. Best you can do is be there for them. Help them be whatever it seems they're meant to be. And give them that little extra nudge now and then, in the right direction, whenever they need it."

"Oh." Hitch thought about that. Professor Starshine's attitude confused him, but in a way that made it seem like a good thing. What would it be like, Hitch thought, if nothing you ever did was wrong, but just another way of learning how to do things right?

Hitch wasn't sure he understood it, not fully. But there was something about it he liked. It was reassuring, in a weird kind of way.

It was one of the reasons he kept coming up here.

"I only wish," Argyle went on somberly, "that Sunny had more friends her age to play with. She'll need that, one day. Somepony to keep an eye on her, look out for her."

"Well, I can do that, sir," Hitch said, surprising himself even as he said it. "Uhh, I mean, it'll be good practice. For when I become Sheriff."

"Oh?" Argyle smiled. "I thought it was Sprout who was going to be Sheriff someday."

"Eh, maybe he will," Hitch allowed. "And maybe he won't. I got as much chance as he does, right? And I can be a good Sheriff. I'll keep the peace, keep ponies safe... all that kinda stuff."

Argyle gave him a quiet, evaluating look. "You know, I'd say you've got a far better chance, Hitch? Because you understand what the job means. You care about ponies, and look out for them." He nodded. "I'm glad Sunny has a friend like you."

"Uh... thanks?"

At that point, the lift rattled down again. Sunny leapt off it, carrying a sheet of note paper covered with worked arithmetic problems. She pressed this into Argyle's hooves and then stared up at him beseechingly.

"The ice-cream stand just opened in town. I saw it through the telescope. Can we go? Pleeeease?"

Argyle glanced over her homework. Then he smiled down at her. "I think you're old enough to go down there on your own, Sunny."

"Really? Can I?"

He nodded. "Be back in time for supper."

"Okay!" Sunny turned and raced for the door, hauled it open, and dashed outside without even looking back.

Argyle and Hitch exchanged an amused look. Then Hitch hurried toward the door himself, glancing over his shoulder.

"Excuse me, sir! I'd better get after her."

"Go right ahead."

Chuckling, Argyle turned and trotted over to the desk, to add Sunny's latest worksheet to the file he kept in the desk's other cabinet -- the one with the lock that was much harder to break into.

And smiled sadly to himself.

I do hope you become Sheriff, he thought. More than Sunny's future may depend on it...

------------------------------

"They hold this every year, Daddy?"

"Every year, Sunny."

"Wowwwww..."

The two of them trotted up the front walkway of the Hoof-and-Hammer factory on Butter Hill, with its green, rococo office building out front, and the long, low, metal-walled warehouse behind. Bring Your Family to Work Day, read the signs posted all over the place outside. And there were balloons and streamers tied everywhere, and ponies standing by the front doorway, smiling and greeting everypony by name.

To Sunny it all felt like a big birthday party or holiday celebration.

"The Ar-se-nal," she sounded out carefully, staring up at the brass letters over the main doorway. "What's that mean, Daddy?"

Argyle chuckled. "It's called The Arsenal," he murmured in a hinting tone, "in commemoration of the Battle of Butter Hill, which..."

"Which didn't actually happen," Sunny readily continued. "Since there wasn't any invasion of unicorns and pegasuses--"

"Pegasi."

"Pegasi," Sunny corrected herself. "It was just a big argument, that caused the three tribes to stop talking to each other. And everypony started calling it a battle, because that made them feel better about it."

Argyle nodded. "Top of the class, Sunny. But remember now, we don't bring that up while we're here."

Sunny looked puzzled. "Even though it's the truth?"

"Even though." Argyle nodded. "It's not polite. A lot of good ponies work here. And with the effort they've put into this place, it means a lot to them."

"But... if it's a lie, how does it help not telling them?"

He shrugged. "You have to remember, Sunny, there's a time for everything. You have to pick your battles. And in the meantime, you do your best to be patient and keep ponies listening to you. For the times when it will matter." He sighed. "Though sometimes it can be a little difficult..."

Sunny could tell what he meant by that. As they trotted through the doorway they saw, in the crowded reception area beyond, two ponies that Sunny knew well, though mostly by reputation.

One was Maretime Bay's long-standing Mayor, Phyllis Cloverleaf, the wealthiest and most influential pony in town. The pink, beehive-maned mare frowned on seeing Professor Starshine and his daughter approaching.

"Argyle," she said evenly. "Surprised to see you here."

He smiled blandly in return. "The flyers did say the whole town was welcome, Phyllis."

"It's just, well... you've always been against technology. Or so I gathered."

"Only when it's a means of distracting us from what's really important. Like family and friends." He gave Sunny a light hug with a forehoof, and she beamed happily in return.

"But, you must admit," said the other pony, "seeing you here, Argyle, it's almost like seeing Princess Twilight herself, isn't it?" Madam Buttermint, the school's pistachio-coated, blond-maned head teacher, adjusted her pince-nez glasses and looked smug. "Descending from on high, from Canterlot in the clouds, to dispense rough justice amongst the peasant pony tribes below."

"Which of course never happened," Argyle replied mildly. "As research tells us, Princess Twilight was a pony like any of us. And Canterlot was a place, like any other. And Twilight was the Princess of Friendship. So she never punished, where she could teach instead."

Madam Buttermint looked sour, and sighed resignedly. "You're a diligent scholar, Argyle," she said dryly. "But you simply must stop reading those dusty old books. The school teaches an established, accepted history curriculum. It provides ponies a common heritage, helps them feel better about themselves, keeps them united --"

"It keeps earth ponies united," Argyle gently interrupted. "By setting them against the other tribes, presenting unicorns and pegasi as a convenient out-group. Who, not being present, are unable to defend themselves. They're not our enemies, you know. Not the enemy we really need to be worried about."

Madam Buttermint rolled her eyes. "That old line again? Still peddling your breezy-tales of unity against ill-defined, lurking horrors. You know, if it wasn't for that Scholarship, the stipend and title to the lighthouse..."

"... I'd be firmly under your hoof," Argyle agreed. "Like every other teacher in town. That's why the Scholarship exists. It provides freedom for open-minded thinking, the ability to follow research wherever it might lead us --"

"Which rarely seems to mean researching anything new," Madam Buttermint interrupted sourly. "Instead, you spend all your time upending things that are already established. Putting about questions for which there are no answers. Isn't that so, Phyllis?"

"Oh, well, I suppose." Phyllis waved a hoof vaguely. "I try not to appear to take sides, hah hah! Being married into the Butter clan is conflict of interest enough, eh?"

"Hmph. You know, Argyle, this is precisely why parents are so worked up about this whole 'Critical Tribe Theory' nonsense. They don't actually care about the academics of what they think they're protesting. All they see is the conflict, the uncertainty, the self-doubt. And they rightly want to keep their children out of it."

"All the more reason for us to clearly explain the lessons we do teach," Argyle countered placidly. "An honest, open-minded look at history. So children can see that uncertainty isn't a threat. That it's actually a starting point, an improvement, an indication you're thinking along the right lines..."

"Wishful thinking, Argyle. You know, I've always said..."

Sunny, sensing that the grownups were settling into the familiar, never-resolved debate, and feeling a little bored by it, trotted away through the herd of ponies to have a look at the exhibits in the reception area.

Like for instance, the town's first burnt-out lightbulb, under glass. And a scale model of the Lightning Trolley, complete with a tiny figurine of Brass Token, the elderly conductor pony. Plus an old prototype dynamo -- that was kind of cool, actually. And also, Sunny wanted to check out the snack tables. These were piled high with cakes and cookies and other enticing treats.

Then Sunny noticed something even more interesting than sweets, if that was possible. At the back of the room was a set of swinging doors. Every time they swung open to let a helmeted pony through, there was a busy sound of activity from beyond, an expansive whooshing and clanking coming from the echoing vastness of the factory floor itself.

Sunny eagerly crept closer, hiding behind tables, chairs, even the odd distracted adult. Reaching the buffet table next to the doors, she waited her chance. And then, just as a pony had pushed through into the reception hall, she...

"Hey, Sunny. What'cha doing?"

Sunny turned, and saw Hitch trotting up to her through the crowd.

"Oh... nothing." She tried to look innocent, but Hitch shook his head.

"You know we're not supposed to go back there. The factory area's too dangerous for us little kids."

"Hmph. They got you on door-monitor duty or something?"

"Nah." He shrugged. "Ms. Cloverleaf asked me to collect hats and canes and take 'em to the checkroom over there." He pointed back through the crowd toward a distant office off to the side. "But almost nopony has 'em, so it's not as much fun as I thought it'd be."

Sunny pouted. "Aren't you even curious, Hitch? About what it is they do back there?"

"Well, sure I am," he admitted. "But that's not the point, right? It's a rule. It's there for a reason, to keep us safe."

"I wasn't actually gonna go back there," Sunny protested. "Just have a look through the doors. See what they're doing."

Hitch gave her a look. "And knowing you, would looking ever be enough?"

Sunny sighed. "You're right, I guess not. But I want to know what they're working on now, Hitch! Not this boring, museum-ish stuff out here." She waved a hoof at the exhibits. "That's no fun."

"I hear you." Hitch nodded. "I thought it was the whole point of bringing us kids here today. To let us see what they do at the factory."

Sunny gave him a crafty look. "You wanna take a peek together? You can always stop me, you know, if I try to go too far."

"Well..." Hitch looked uncomfortable. "You know what Officer Light always says..."

"And what is it I always say?" a calmly stern voice said from behind them.

The two of them nearly jumped out of their hooves. Turning, they found themselves facing Officer Light herself. It was said that just mentioning the Sheriff's name could summon her anywhere, and it often seemed to be the literal truth. The grim, dark-coated mare was taller and tougher than most stallions. The badge on her bandanna strap was a glinting mirror. Her razor-lashed eyes glared coldly, missing nothing. She frowned down at them in a chilly, expectant sort of way.

"Um..." Hitch somehow found words. "That smart ponies make smart choices, so they live long enough to make more of them?"

The Sheriff nodded. "Nice to see somepony paying attention, for once." And she cast a disapproving glance across the room at Mayor Cloverleaf.

"Well, uh... Sunny didn't mean any harm," Hitch went on quickly. "She was just being curious. Like she always is."

"Hitch!" Sunny gasped.

"But I talked to her," Hitch added. "Reminded her about the rules and stuff. She understands."

"Did you now? Nice work." Light eyed him, her mouth quirked in an almost-smile. Then the smile vanished. "Were you on detail at the time, officer?"

Hitch hunched under her steely glare. "Uh, no offense, ma'am."

"Oh, none taken." The Sheriff's gaze shifted to Sunny. "And there's no harm in curiosity, young lady," she said icily. "So long as you know where and when to properly apply it. Hmmm?"

"Yes, ma'am." Sunny nodded. You didn't cross Officer Light.

"Good." The Sheriff motioned with her head. "Run along now, you two."

Relieved, Sunny and Hitch scampered away through the crowds. And the Sheriff watched them go, nodding to herself.

"Very nice indeed," she murmured. "Have to keep an eye on you... on both of you." Then she turned to glare wordlessly at a stallion who was being a little too greedy at the buffet table, causing him to put down the tea-cake tree and back away slowly.

Sunny and Hitch put as much distance as they could between themselves and the Sheriff, ending up hiding under another of the snack tables closer to the front windows. They peered out from under the tablecloth, then let it fall.

"Phew! That was close," Hitch breathed.

"Hitch!" Sunny rounded on him crossly. "How could you turn on me like that?"

"What? I didn't!" Hitch protested. Then he thought about how it had sounded. "Well, I didn't mean to. I just told the truth. You didn't actually do anything wrong. And I didn't want to see you get in trouble. Somepony needed to speak up for you, that's all."

"Oh." Sunny considered that. And then smiled. "Thanks, Hitch."

"Hey, no problem."

Just then, hoofsteps approached the table. The two of them fell silent, listening to the voices coming from outside.

"How about that Argyle?" said a matronly mare voice. "Just showing up here, today of all days. The absolute nerve!"

"Oh, I know," said another voice. "Still going on about those other pony tribes. How we should be friends with them and all that. Huh, as if!"

"Living by himself, up in that lighthouse. Getting up to who knows what kind of mischief. You know, he's probably consorting with unicorns, learning their dark magic. And talking to pegasi. I bet they spy for him, up on the rooftops, where nopony can see them. Must be why he seems to know so much about everypony in town."

"Something needs to be done about him. I mean, really!"

"Oh? Like what?"

"Oh... I don't know. Make him get a real job. Instead of just puttering away out there. Whatever it is he does all day."

"Too right. Idle ponies like him are trouble, mark my words..."

The voices drifted away with their owners. And Hitch looked uneasily at Sunny, at the uncomfortable look on her face.

"Don't listen to 'em, Sunny. They don't know your Dad. He's nice."

But Sunny wasn't looking hurt, not really. She seemed... puzzled almost. Disappointed, even. "But... they're wrong, Hitch," she said in an amazed tone. "Completely, utterly wrong. They don't know anything!" She stared at him. "Hitch, how can grownups be so wrong?"

Hitch was startled. As usual, it was a question he never bothered to ask himself. Yet once asked, it all but demanded an answer. "Well... adults are like that, sometimes," he said, knowing it was a weak answer even as he said it. "They think they're right about stuff. And nopony can tell them otherwise. It's just how things are. You shouldn't take it personally, Sunny."

But Sunny couldn't let it be. She frowned in annoyance. It didn't make sense to her.

And she'd been brought up to try to see sense in things.

------------------------------

Later, as Sunny and her father were trotting back through town towards North Point and the lighthouse, Argyle smiled gently down at her. "Why so quiet, Sunny Bun? Figured you'd be talking my ear off about the factory."

"Well..." She looked up at him, not sure how to put the one question on her mind. "Why do other grownups hate you so much, Daddy?"

He looked briefly surprised. Then nodded, understandingly.

"They don't hate me, Sunny," he said. "Not really. Just some of the ideas I have, some of the things I try to teach them. About themselves, about the other pony tribes. How we all need to be friends. It's important, far more important than they can know. But... they don't know how to deal with that. And it's natural when somepony is asking questions that make you feel unsure of yourself, to push back against them. But uncertainty is not a bad thing," he added firmly. "It helps you know..."

"... when you're on the right track," Sunny completed, and smiled. "I wish ponies liked your ideas better, Daddy. Then maybe they'd like you better." She nodded, her eyes bright and eager. "And I'll help! Yeah!"

"Oh?"

"I'll make sure everypony in town knows how important it is for earth ponies and unicorns and pegasi to be friends. I promise! Hoof to heart!"

Argyle paused and stared at her, in an almost wondering way. Then he gently ruffled her mane with a hoof.

"Thanks, Sunny. It's comforting knowing there's at least one pony like you backing me up..."

------------------------------

Several moons passed. And late one night, Argyle suddenly awoke from unpleasant dreams.

He stared at his shaking forehooves wonderingly. Did they look a little thin, a little transparent? Or was he only remembering that from the dream?

Is that what it's like? he wondered. Did one fade away, like a forgotten memory? Or did one simply go out, like a light?

Getting up, he moved quietly past Sunny's room, pausing to listen to her gentle snoring. Then down to the ground floor, where he stared at the worktable, at the notes and papers and collected artifacts. At his reading glasses, sitting in their case. And at the medallion, the Scholarship emblem, with its finely-carved star: her cutie mark.

Well, he thought to himself. Sunny has the crystal, in her nightlight. And she has everything else I've taught her, so she can look after herself. And she has all this mess to sort through to keep that busy mind of hers occupied. So what else is left, really?

Sighing, he turned to the front door and trotted outside. Uncertain where he was headed, he followed the hoof path down the Point and around the cliffs into town. Passing beneath the Royal Arch bridge-house, he ambled quietly along the moonlit stretch of Shore Street, with its closed shops and food stands.

Coming to the seaside railing by the circle, he stood gazing out over the shimmering stretch of ocean. An entire ocean, with no boats on it.

Because there's no longer anywhere else for ponies to go...

"Argyle?" said a voice behind him.

Turning his head, he saw Officer Light approaching. As always, he was amazed at how the Sheriff could move so quietly without apparent effort, even on paving stone.

"A bit late for you to be out, isn't it?" Light observed. Then the dark mare moved to join him in standing by the railing, looking out at the waves. Silently, as was her habit. Saying nothing, waiting for others to speak, letting them nervously fill up the silence with ill-chosen words.

They were both quiet for a while. Then Argyle spoke up. "Everything's done," he said, quietly and distantly. "I thought I might not have time, but... there's really nothing left to do."

"About what?"

Instead of answering, he looked at her.

"If anything happened to me, you'd look out for Sunny, right?"

"Always do," she replied as if the question wasn't unusual. "Same as for anypony in town."

"And if there was any difficulty... about the title to the Point, the lighthouse...?"

"It's the law." Light shrugged, as if that settled it. "Part of that Scholarship thing, right? And around here, I am the law. Anypony has a problem with that, they go through me."

"Thanks." Argyle smiled gratefully. "It's not actually you I'm worried about. It's whoever the next Sheriff might be."

"Oh?" Light eyed him amusedly. "Am I going someplace?"

He shrugged. "Who knows? Who knows what could happen?" He sighed helplessly. "Who really knows anything about anything, anymore?"

For once, Officer Light actually displayed annoyance.

"You know, Argyle, it'd be much easier to help if I knew what was going on. What is it you know that I don't?"

He shook his head. "I shouldn't say. Not that I can't, or wouldn't. It's just... I shouldn't. It's that important. And too, if I did say anything, nopony would believe me. They'd say I was a crazy-pony, with delusions of grandeur, have me locked up. And then what would happen to Sunny?"

Light took that in. And snorted in irritation. But she didn't press the point.

"Is there anything that I can do? If it's that important?"

He shook his head. "Just look out for Sunny. Keep an eye on her. And... try to make sure the next Sheriff feels the same way?"

Sheriff Light made a doubtful face. "In so far as I can." She turned to walk away, then paused and looked back.

"You know, Argyle, the law protects those who respect it. But... some things are beyond the purview of the law, aren't they?" Before he could answer, she smirked. "You need some rest, that's all. Things will look better in the morning. Even when they're not, actually."

Without further word Light strode off, apparently resuming her rounds.

And Argyle stared at the sea for a while longer, at the empty, boatless sea. Then he turned, and headed up the main street, through the silent, darkened town. Approaching Butter Hill and the factory, he took the hoof-path over the hill to the left, passing around the factory and beyond, to the farming district on the west side of town.

A few turns along the roads, past fields of waving wheat and corn, and he came to it. A wall of blank, mist-like emptiness. It cut across the landscape from horizon to horizon, like a razor. An edge to the world, to reality itself. Which nopony else in town seemed aware of.

In daytime it looked like fog. And at night...

... like one's worst nightmare.

Uneasily approaching it, Argyle reached out a hoof. As usual he felt nothing, even as his hoof seemed to fade away into the mist, until he drew it back out again.

It didn't seem any closer than the last time he'd checked. Perhaps the crystal kept it at bay. Perhaps it was his own belief, and Sunny's too, that magic was not lost forever. Or maybe -- and this was what he privately hoped -- it couldn't get any closer. Maybe it had reached some kind of limit, beyond which nothing further could be lost.

Because everything else touched by magic was already gone.

Yet he was rational enough not to believe that.

He was turning back towards town when suddenly he felt like he wasn't alone. Like there was something lurking right behind him.

Turning, he all but jumped. Then he sighed in relief.

"Oh, it's you. Are you following me? To keep an eye on me, too?"

There was no reply. Argyle stared, transfixed, at the shadowy form approaching him, seemingly out of the swirling fog-like darkness itself.

One's worst nightmare, indeed.

"Oh. It's not you, is it?"

He reached with a hoof for the reassuring medallion at his neck, with its carven star, her symbol. And then remembered it was still sitting on the desk back home, along with his reading glasses.

"So..." he whispered, "this is what it's like?"

His only answer was a cold, grim snickering in the darkness...

The Deputy

A few days later, Hitch trotted out of the Bijou theater, late at night.

He was still shivering, images from the new horror movie dancing in his head. In his mind's eye he could still see the Malaise, the looming, implacable, poisonous-green cloud, enshrouding the helpless town, consuming its terrified ponies one by one. Until the last pony, thinking he'd finally escaped, suddenly looked over his shoulder and...

CRASH!

The only reason Hitch didn't end up on the roof of the Bijou was because all four hooves were glued to the pavement, soles gripping hard, ready to bolt as soon as his brain came unstuck enough to figure out which way to run.

Then he got hold of himself, and looked around fearfully.

The sound, like a trashcan lid being knocked loose, had come from an alley across the street. A dark, shadowy alley, behind the trees to the right of the Sheriff's office.

Hitch shivered. What would Brisk Bronco do? In the movies, Bronco always played the town Sheriff, the bold, fearless guardian. He defended ponies, upheld law and order. Proud and good-looking, he was always the buff and brave pony-in-charge. Hitch idolized him. He wanted to be just like him.

What Bronco would do, Hitch finally decided uncomfortably, is march right on in there and investigate. "Ain't nopony else coming to set things right," Hitch quoted softly. "Around here, I am the law. So this one's on me."

Hitch gulped. It always sounded so easy when Bronco said it.

Reluctantly, he put one hoof in front of the others, and made his way across the street, then behind the trees into the dim shadows beyond.

The alley was gloomy, just enough indirect moonlight to see by. He followed it to the back corner where the alley swung round towards the bay again. Here there was a dumpster and some trashcans.

And Hitch nearly trod on an upturned trashcan lid, lying on the ground.

Well, that explains the noise. But who or what knocked it loose?

Then he peered round the corner. And saw there was a pony hunched by the back door of the Sheriff's office, working a piece of wire in its lock.

Hitch blinked, amazed.

It was Sunny.

Over the past few moons she'd started putting on height, and was now almost taller than Hitch himself. Yet in many ways she was the same calamitously brilliant filly he'd gotten to like as a friend. And, Hitch had to admit it, breaking into the Sheriff's office was... well, not very far outside the box for her.

"Sunny?" Hitch called quietly. "What're you doing?"

"What's it look like I'm doing?" she replied crossly. "I'm getting some answers, Hitch! It's been a week already. And it's like everypony's just completely forgotten about him."

"Uh... about who, Sunny?"

She stared at him, miserably. "You see what I mean? My Dad!"

"But he's been gone..." Hitch blinked in startled realization. It had only been a week at the most, since Professor Starshine had suddenly gone missing.

So why, up to a moment ago, did I think he's been gone for years?

Sunny had turned back to the lock, poking and prodding at it. "I want to know what everypony's hiding. What they're hushing up. Why doesn't anypony try to find Dad? And why doesn't anypony tell me anything? There's got to be something, Hitch! And if it's anywhere, it'll be in here."

Hitch trotted closer. He wasn't sure what to say, what to do.

"Sunny... I get how important this is. I really do. But... you know this isn't the right way to go about it, huh?"

"What else can I do?" Sunny demanded. But she did stop jiggering the lock to look at him.

"Um..." Hitch cautiously reached out, put a comforting hoof on her shoulder. "Look, Sheriff Light can help, I know she can. But she catches you busting into her office, she's not going to be very sympathetic, is she?"

"So? What do we do instead?"

"We talk to her. First thing tomorrow," Hitch said. "I'll come with you, be there in case you need somepony to back you up. And we'll figure this out together. Okay?"

Sunny thought about it. Then she looked at him. And smiled. "Okay. And thanks, Hitch."

He nodded. "What are friends for, huh?"

"But..." Sunny looked frightened. "What if you forget? Or worse, what if I forget? That's what started all this! I was headed out the door like usual, and I reached back in to adjust the picture of Dad and me. And just for a moment, even I didn't stop to wonder why he wasn't here anymore."

Hitch tried not to show how creeped out he felt by that. How would Bronco deal with this one?

Looking around for an answer, his gaze landed on a discarded tack.

Well, I've had my shots, he thought.

Catching Sunny's eye, he stomped on it, wincing at the stabbing pain. Then he held up the hoof, and gingerly prized the tack out of the sole.

"Pain is Nature's reminder," Hitch said. "That's what Brisk Bronco says. This'll help me remember, if you don't. And if you think I've forgotten, just ask me why I'm limping. That should jog my memory."

"Hitch..." Sunny shook her head, amazed. "That is the nicest really dumb thing anypony's ever done for me."

He shrugged. "Hey, we do what we can, right? So, I'll see you tomorrow? Bright and early?"

She nodded. "You bet. Bright and early." Looking at the piece of wire, she chucked it over her shoulder. "And thanks again."

Getting up, Sunny trotted out of the alley towards the bay, disappearing around the corner.

Hitch watched her leave. Then he stared at his hoof, ruefully.

"Ouch," he muttered to himself. "They don't tell you how much this hurts in the movies."

"Very nicely managed."

Hitch whirled, heart pounding. And found himself facing Officer Light. The Sheriff had stepped out of the darker shadows behind the dumpster. "You headed towards danger," she said, "rather than away from it. Defused a touchy situation, rather than letting it get out of hoof. And displayed an unusual level of dedication. Very nice, indeed." Then she eyed him sternly. "You know, young colt, if you don't stop trying to do my job for me, I'll have to do something drastic about it..."

She half-smirked.

"... like make you my Deputy."

Hitch stared. "Seriously?" he gasped. "That would be totally awesome!" Then remembering himself, he drew up nervously. "Uh... ma'am."

The Sheriff snorted. Then she stepped past him, to the back door of her office. And glanced at him with a smirk.

"She wouldn't have gotten in that way. There's a trick to it."

Not bothering with a key, she set a hoof against the door, just above the handle. And shoved hard. The door, clearly long-disused, came open with a wrenching noise and a swirl of dust. And the Sheriff disappeared into the darkness beyond.

Hitch was about to follow her, but then her voice came from within.

"Here," she called. "Catch."

Something flew out of the shadows and smacked into Hitch's face, bowling him over. Righting himself, he picked it up and looked at it. It was a fat book, its title set in a drab, official-looking font:

Maretime Bay, Bylaws and Ordinances

Officer Light reappeared in the doorway. "When you've managed to memorize all that," she sneered, "come and find me. And we'll see how you do."

Hitch looked from the book to her. And saluted.

"Yes, ma'am! I'll get right on it!"

He set off down the alley at a run, clutching the book tightly in his lame hoof, oblivous to the pain now.

The Sheriff watched him go. Then she looked thoughtful.

"Hmmm. It has only been a week, hasn't it?" she mused. "How odd. Have to do something about that. Can't have any cold cases on the books. Not on my watch..."

Then she turned back inside, hoofing the door shut behind her.

------------------------------

"Mommmm, can we go now, please? I'm bored."

"In a minute, Sprout dear. Mummy's thinking."

Phyllis Cloverleaf stared around at the long, low, dusty interior of the factory floor, the narrow lanes between the presses and drills, the cubicle-like work areas. Cramped, Phyllis thought. And there should be better lighting. Some of these bulbs are practically vintage. Maybe open it up a bit, let in more natural lighting with skylights or something. Raise the roof a bit, give it a feeling of spaciousness, of unbridled possibility...

Phyllis prided herself on being stylish and fashionable. Having a sense of the proper "look" of things. That extra hint of glamour that made things not merely functional, but desirable -- even a drab, clanking work area like this one. After all, if ponies hated where they worked, by extension they'd come to hate the work itself. And that did nopony any favors.

If only I wasn't so busy being Mayor, she thought. The near-daily council sessions, the committees to chair, the endless meets-and-greets. Keeping in touch with the common pony. Hah-hah, as if!

Still, Phyllis knew that she had only herself to blame. Being so good at running things meant nopony wanted to challenge her. She'd been unopposed in the last three biennial elections.

If only there was some way I could get back into running the family business, she mused. Having everypony in town coming to me for a change. While still seeing to it the town is run properly. Making sure things don't go to blazes without me...

Her train of thought was derailed by a harsh blaring klaxon. Red warning lights blinked from the walls.

Phyllis turned and glanced about, at the worker ponies looking up from their stations and staring around in rising confusion and alarm. She looked around for Sprout, saw the scarlet-coated colt had gone to ground beneath a nearby workbench. He anxiously peered around, in wide-eyed terror.

Have to talk to him about that, Phyllis noted. Teach him how to take charge in a crisis.

"All right, everypony!" she called. "Calm down. I'm sure it's nothing serious."

Then Phyllis saw, coming down the main aisle of the factory, the tall, looming shape of Officer Light. The Sheriff calmly glanced left and right as she approached, with that half-smirk of hers on her face.

"Oops," she said innocently. "Looks like somepony must have pulled the fire alarm. Again."

"It wasn't me!" Sprout yelped from his hiding place. "Not this time! I've been here all along! Haven't I, Mommy?"

"Quiet, sugarcube," Phyllis said reprovingly. Then she looked at Light. "You?"

Light shrugged. "The place was overdue for a fire-drill. Seemed a good opportunity. Deputy!" She glanced over her shoulder at Hitch, who'd followed her in.

He saluted proudly. "Yes, ma'am?"

"See to an orderly evacuation. Have everypony assemble outside. Then have Sweets count noses, make sure staff and visitors are accounted for."

"I'm on it! Okay, folks," Hitch called. "You see those doors over there? They're plenty wide enough for everypony to get out safely in an orderly fashion. So let's line 'em up, and head 'em out. Come on now. Hup, hup!"

As Hitch busily herded ponies twice his height and three times his age, and marched them outside, Light turned her attention back to Phyllis. And despite herself, the Mayor drew back a little. She felt uncomfortable under the Sheriff's frosty, unrelenting stare. It made her feel nervous, guilty even. Like Light knew things about her. What things those were, Phyllis had no idea, and she wasn't even sure she'd want to know.

Light opened her mouth to speak. As if on cue, all the shrieking alarms fell silent.

"Now we've a minute to ourselves," she said, "and you can't keep rescheduling to avoid me, I wanted to chat. About Professor Starshine."

"Argyle? What about him?"

"Near as I can tell," Light replied coldly, "you were one of the last ponies to speak to him."

"I was?" Phyllis rolled her eyes. "Oh dear. Suspect number one, I suppose. Well, if you say so, Light. But honestly, it's been long enough now, I wouldn't know for sure myself."

"Long enough?"

"Well, it's been..." Phyllis looked puzzled. "What? Several years? Without any clue what happened to him?"

"Has it?" Light eyed her blandly. "Oh yes. Must have lost track, somehow."

"And I know there's been talk in town," Phyllis went on, "about an honorarium of some sort for him. Like, maybe naming the lighthouse after him. But I'm still of the opinion we ought to give that a little more time, out of respect. See where ponies' feelings end up on that."

"Hmph. You make it sound like he's never coming back."

"Maybe so, and I hope I'm wrong." Phyllis shook her head. "You know, Light, for all the times we argued, all the times that cheeky academic know-it-all got on my nerves..." She sighed. "I have to admit, I liked those arguments. He could get me thinking about things in unexpected ways. I've missed that."

"Don't we all?" Light said non-committally. "I suppose you've no objection to me asking around?" Her eyes narrowed. "Wouldn't want anyone thinking I was stirring up old skeletons. Causing unrest amongst the populace, and so forth."

"Well, you know best." Phyllis shrugged. "It's why you've been Sheriff this long. Everypony looks to you to keep the place safe." She glanced around, and lowered her voice. "Tell you the truth, you even scare me at times."

The Sheriff stared at her wordlessly. Then she smirked.

"Nice to know I still can, Phyllis. Now, if you'll excuse me, I'll let you get back to redecorating the place in your head. Like you're always doing."

"I do not!" Phyllis laughed, rolling her eyes. "Honestly, Light, it's like you can read my mind, sometimes."

"If I could, that would solve so many problems, wouldn't it?" Nodding to Phyllis, the Sheriff turned, then trotted back up the aisle towards the factory floor's swinging doors.

Phyllis herself stared around at the factory floor, a speculative look on her face.

"You know, now there's a thought... I never really needed to be Mayor, just to get ponies to listen to what I told them..."

Leaving Phyllis to her self-centered plans, the Sheriff pushed through the swinging doors into the entry area. And found Deputy Hitch arguing with another pony. The Sheriff wasn't surprised to see it was Sunny Starscout.

"Sunny, you can't go in there!"

"But Hitch, it's too perfect a chance to pass up!" Sunny frowned at him. "Everypony's cleared out, because of the fire drill! I can leave some of these flyers I wrote up, on desks and stuff." She pulled a small sheaf of pages from the bag hanging from her shoulder. "I wouldn't be harming anything, I promise! It'd just get ponies' attention, make them take notice."

"Ahem." Sheriff Light smiled, seeing the fearful looks on their faces. That never gets old, she thought.

Sunny was looking proudly rebellious as usual. And Hitch -- well, he was clearly being more lenient than was proper with a potential trespasser. But for once Light didn't object. Not entirely, anyways.

She stepped forwards, leaned close. "Don't worry, Sunny," she whispered. "I'll find him. I've made it my personal project."

"Find who?" Sunny asked, surprised. "You mean Dad? Well, after all this time with no clues, there's not much hope of that anymore, is there?"

Light stared at her. It's been a few days, at most, she thought. And if even Sunny doesn't remember... what the hay is going on?

The Sheriff only remembered herself each morning thanks to a sticky-note she'd pasted onto the first blank page in her logbook:

Find out what happened to Professor Starshine.

She worried about the day she'd forget to move it forward to a new blank page. It would slip into the past, and the memory along with it. The same as with everypony else in town, apparently.

Hiding her disquiet, Light gestured to the flyers Sunny was holding. "Then what are these for?"

"Oh! These are for a party I'm organizing up at the lighthouse. To try to promote friendship with the other pony tribes."

"A party?" Light looked unconvinced.

Sunny nodded. "We've gotta get ponies here to realize unicorns and pegasi are not our enemies. That's what Dad always said. And I want to make sure everypony in Maretime Bay remembers it. It's... well, kind of a way of remembering him, actually."

Light raised an eyebrow. "Really? Then why not ask some of the storeowners on Shore Street to let you post these in their windows?"

Sunny looked doubtful. "You think they'd let me?"

"They'd better," Light replied. "After you tell them you've already put one up on the notice board at the Sheriff's office."

Sunny stared, mouth open. "Really? I can? You mean it?"

Light nodded. "Just don't let me catch you posting them anywhere else without permission, hmmm?"

"Yes, ma'am! I mean, no you won't, ma'am!" Sunny beamed, and then turned and raced out of the building, a pony on a mission.

Hitch looked after her, then at the Sheriff. "Uh, boss? Miss Sweets is already taking attendance outside. Is it okay if I go after Sunny? To help... I mean, make sure she doesn't get into trouble?"

Light nodded. "I think you'd better, Deputy Trailblazer."

Hitch grinned, and was off like a shot too, banging out through the front door.

The Sheriff nodded to herself.

"After all," she added quietly, "clearly somepony has to..."

------------------------------

Late one night, some weeks later, Sheriff Light awoke with a startled snort. She lifted her head from the desk in the darkness of her office. Night had fallen outside, and she'd forgotten to put the lights on.

Fumbling around in the dark she found the switch. And then stared at her hooves, in puzzlement. She'd had the strangest dream. That she was fading away somehow, becoming insubstantial...

But that was ridiculous. Here she was, as solid and immovable as ever.

She returned to the desk, to the clutter of notes about Argyle. Where he'd been, what he'd done, who he'd talked to, up to the day he'd disappeared. All of which led her nowhere.

Nopony had liked him that much, but he'd had no serious enemies. He was a creature of habit, rarely venturing outside his usual haunts: the library, the records office, the grocery store. And he cared about Sunny, deeply. So it wasn't like he'd just wander off without even leaving a note. Clearly he'd been keeping something to himself, but then everypony had secrets, things better left unsaid. There was nothing unlawful about that.

And Light kept coming back to the single most annoying point about the case.

She herself was apparently the very last pony to speak to him.

There was nothing else for it. She'd have to try to retrace his steps one more time, see if there was anything she'd overlooked, as unlikely as that seemed.

Light looked across the office, at the Deputy's desk. And smiled. Hitch was coming along nicely. He was a natural at wearing the badge. He tried hard to project a calm, confident, professional demeanor. Ponies in town were coming to trust him, even respect him, nearly as much as they did Light herself.

Nearly, Light mentally added, with just a hint of professional jealousy.

And Hitch looked after Sunny. He seemed to treat her as his own personal responsibility. Kept her to the straight and narrow, in as far as that was possible for such a brilliant and creative troublemaker.

Light nodded proudly, feeling somehow satisfied. I did what you asked, Argyle. I found somepony who could replace me. Somepony who'd look after Sunny, even better than I would.

Now, she added crossly, where the hay have you gotten to?

Shutting off the lights the Sheriff stepped out of the office and into the circle outside. Glancing about, she turned up the street into town, in the direction she'd last seen Argyle walking.

All around her, houses and storefronts were dark and silent. Everypony was tucked up safe in their beds. If they know what's good for them, Light added to herself, with a grim snicker. I'm on the prowl.

Coming to Butter Hill, she considered it for a moment. Then on a hunch she tried going in a direction she hadn't tried before. Over the hill and to the west, toward the farming district. It was completely out of his normal pattern, but one never knew, right?

She strolled along between darkened fields, in which moonlit grain and corn were rustling quietly in the evening breeze.

And as she came to the edge of town, she felt a rising sense of unease bringing her hooves to a stop. It was as if she was walking towards a precipice, a cliff over a bottomless drop.

A line from a poem she'd read as a filly came to mind:

Last seen wandering vaguely, quite of her own accord,
she tried to get down to the end of the town, forty bits reward...

The uneasy feeling made her anxious, made her want to turn back.

I must be getting senile, she thought. I fear nothing. I am the law here.

Determinedly, she marched forwards.

All round her, the air seemed to be growing darker, murkier, like mist or fog. Looking back towards town, she could barely see the fields of the farming district, and Butter Hill beyond them, gleaming in the moonlight.

Then she looked forwards again.

Straight into a pair of eyes, burning like furnaces in the dark.

They looked down upon her, as from a height. And behind them was a suggestion of a looming shape amidst the shadows. Like a pony, but with a horn and wings as well.

It chuckled dryly. "Took you long enough."

Light stood her ground, teeth gritted.

"Who are you?" she demanded. "What have you done with Argyle?"

The shape seemed amused by her challenge. "That's not what you should be concerned with right now. You should be more troubled by the real threat to that little town of yours. Which up to now you haven't been able to do a thing about, have you?"

"That's because you've been clouding our minds! Fogging our memories! That's it, isn't it? That's what's been happening here!"

"Far from it." The shape chuckled dryly. "I haven't had to do a thing, really. Except remove a distraction every now and then. I allow ponies every opportunity to show their true selves, and they never disappoint. They do all the hard work, without any help from me."

"Well, now we know you're here," Light growled. "And we'll fight you!"

"Really?" The flaming eyes regarded her. "Where's your backup, Brisk Bronco?"

Sheriff Light felt cold. She hadn't even left a note. Nopony knew where she was, where she'd gone.

The same as with Argyle, all those moons ago.

Is this what happened to him?

She stared up at the flickering glare of the dark pony's gaze, into the smug look on its shadowy face as it stared down at her. She could try to make a run for it, yet she had a feeling the specter could easily overtake her. She didn't dare take her eyes off it. In part because, even as she looked at it, she realized there was something disturbingly familiar about it.

It felt just like every morning, when she got up and looked in the mirror.

And saw...

"Who are you?" she demanded, with a horrid suspicion.

It tilted its head, gave a familiar half-smirk. "Don't I know?"

As Light took that in, her eyes wide, the dark mare trotted slowly around her, trailing shadow behind herself like a train of fuming smoke. "It wasn't easy, with what little magic remains. Only being able to reach ponies weakly, indirectly, through dreams. Whenever their thoughts are muddled or distracted enough." She chuckled evilly. "But I wouldn't be where I am, wouldn't be who I am, if I couldn't handle... difficult..."

Light stared down at her forehoof, the one she'd dreamed was becoming insubstantial. And she saw the opposite was happening. There was an armored shoe on it now, of black, polished iron. It was very solid and heavy. She felt similar armor on her back, on her head.

The very armor that she'd worn, so long ago. And she felt memories, too, gently filtering back...

... her memories, from before.

"This is not an enemy one can attack directly," the dark mare said, almost musingly. "It wears an all-too-familiar face. It demands tolerance, honesty, mercy... while showing none itself. It subverts any direct assault, turns it into a weapon of its own. So it must be forced into the open, made to show itself for what it is, so it can be properly challenged. And that requires subtlety, misdirection. Working from the shadows. But we know all about that, don't we?"

Light shivered. The very things that made her so good as Sheriff. Acting by influence rather than command. Working unseen, until she wanted to be seen. Manipulating ponies into staying in line, all the while making them think it was their idea...

These were her skills, her talents...

The mare completed her circle, leaving Light surrounded by swirling, fuming darkness. "As I was saying." The mare's voice -- her voice, echoed in Light's mind. "It's about time you found your way back here. You see, that's my corporeal form you've got there. And I'm going to need it back."

With what remained of her own fading, desperate will, Light faced the flaming eyes one last time.

"But, the town... Argyle... Sunny..."

"Oh, don't worry. I'm working on that one. Or should I say, you're working on it, hmmm? And you never, ever give up. How well we know that, eh? And now, Officer Light," the dark mare added, with an almost sorrowful expression on her face, "I'm going to need you to do something you're going to find very difficult..."

"What?"

The shadow-mare leaned close, to whisper viciously in her ear:

I'm going to need you to get out of the way...

The Designer

"Now in closing," said Phyllis Cloverleaf, speaking from the podium set in front of the Arsenal's main doors, "let me just say I've been proud, very proud, to serve as your Mayor. Serving Maretime Bay, to the utmost of my ability. Making this a community we can all be proud of, and feel safe and secure in."

She smiled warmly at the crowd of townsponies assembled before her, on the path in front of the factory and on the grassy slopes to either side. "But don't you worry!" Phyllis added brightly. "Regardless of who you choose in the runoff to replace me, I'll continue to do the same... from my new post as Chairpony and CEO of Hoof-and-Hammer!"

The crowd stamped and shouted appreciatively. But Phyllis merely smiled. She'd wasn't done yet. She'd saved the best for last.

"And just to show I intend to hit the ground running, do my utmost to turn this into the great company town we all know it can be, I've already given orders for plans to be drawn up. Plans for a major restoration and refit of the factory facility. We'll modernize things, make it a fitting workplace for the best and brightest of our earth-pony engineers."

She gestured with a hoof. "And to highlight this, we're giving the company a new name, bringing it firmly into the modern, technological era..."

Behind her, Toots and Sweets released ropes, which unfurled the burgundy-red banner over the Arsenal's entryway.

CANTERLOGIC

The applause was deafening. And Phyllis bowed graciously to the accolades. Then she stepped down from the podium, and crossed to where a representative sample of hard-hatted worker ponies were standing by, for the traditional ground-breaking. She put a hoof to a shovel for the photos, and then she turned and trotted over to where Toots and Sweets awaited nervously for her orders.

Escorting them was Deputy Hitch. Phyllis wanted to laugh. If the little dear tried to stand any taller, he'd flip over backwards.

She motioned with her head for Hitch to fall in alongside her as she trotted into the factory, surrounded by her staff. "Very nicely handled, Deputy Trailblazer," she said. "I've never seen a crowd so well-behaved. You're a credit to your profession."

"Just doin' my job, ma'am," he replied proudly. "Following the excellent example Sheriff Light set for me."

"I'm sure that if Light were still with us..." Phyllis sighed unhappily. "She'd be truly proud of how you've turned out, Hitch. Which is why there's something important I want to discuss with you."

Motioning for her staff to stay put, Phyllis trotted forward a short distance, with Hitch trailing her closely. "I haven't made a point of mentioning it," Phyllis said slyly. "But technically I am still Mayor for the rest of the day. And as my last act in office, I want to make good on Sheriff Light's clear intention for you, Hitch. To serve Maretime Bay as her replacement, as Sheriff."

Hitch looked stunned, and Phyllis nodded. "I know. It's a big responsibility. But I'm sure you can manage it. There's just one thing. Well... two things, really." Phyllis eyed him sharply. "I'll ratify your appointment as Sheriff provided you're willing to take on Sprout as your deputy, and show him the ropes. If for no other reason than because it'll keep the poor dear from whining about how he didn't get the big badge himself right away."

Hitch grinned. "Hey, that's no problem, ma'am. Sprout and I get along just fine. It'll be great having a pal like him backing me up."

"You might think twice about that," Phyllis warned, "when you're dealing with him every day. Just between you and me and the gatepost, my darling needs a little more... polish before he's ready for the big time. But I'm sure with you as an example, Hitch, he'll get it together and be a credit to the badge."

"Consider it done, ma'am."

"Fine. And the other thing is..." Phyllis rolled her eyes. "Can you please do something about Sunny Starscout? As the inheritor of that Scholarship whatever-it-is, nopony can touch her. And I think the dear knows it. She's out of control with these posters and stickers and one-pony protest marches. Just... keep her out of my mane, hmm? So I can focus on Maretime Bay, on keeping it safe and prosperous?"

Hitch looked briefly troubled. Then he came to attention.

"It won't be a problem, ma'am. I'll make sure she knows where the boundaries are."

"Wonderful, Hitch! Glad to hear it. Well, Deputy... or should I anticipate myself and just say Sheriff? Hah-hah! Today's been an excellent day all round. So let's do everything we can to see to it that we have many more just like it, hmm?"

"Yes, ma'am!"

------------------------------

Half an hour later, the sun setting behind the town, Hitch uneasily made his way up the path on North Star Point, heading for the lighthouse. He wasn't sure what to say, how he'd tell her. He had a feeling she might still be cross with him, for telling her off earlier when he'd caught her trying to sneak into the crowd to pass out Pony Unity flyers.

But really, there was no one else in town he could tell.

And hey, he was Hitch Trailblazer! He was the law in town -- and now it was official.

Hitch struck a pose, grinned at a non-existent camera lens. It's just a friendly visit. Just showin' the badge, layin' down the law. Talking some sense into her.

He could manage this. Sure.

Before he could even knock on the door it swung open. And she was staring at him, in surprise.

Somehow, all of Hitch's confidence and bravado shut off like a light. "Uhhh... hey, Sunny. I just... thought I'd come by. You know, to chat?"

And she smiled. That wonderful smile, which made everything fine all by itself.

"I'm glad you came by, Hitch."

"Yeah, well... I want to apologize. For shouting at you earlier. I was a little tense, what with all the preparations for the Mayor's farewell address. Keeping the crowd orderly. You know."

"Yeah, I can only imagine," she agreed. "C'mon in. I was just about to light the lantern upstairs."

"You were?" Hitch stared up at the lighthouse tower.

"Not really," she said. "It doesn't work like that anymore. But look, it's simpler just to show you. You can lend a hoof."

"I can?" Willingly, Hitch followed her across the room to the lift. They rode it up through the tower to the lamp room. Here the crystal orb of the lamp hung in its gilt frame. Beside it stood a small hoof-ladder.

Sunny went over to a cabinet and brought out a large, fat candle. With Hitch steadying the ladder for her, she climbed to the orb, opened a small hatch, and set the candle on a rack inside. With a long match, she lit it, then shut the hatch.

And the orb glowed. Feebly, yet with a steady, gentle flickering that was somehow comforting. It might not be bright, but it kept back the darkness, a light that would never go out.

"I decided I'd light the lamp like this, every year," Sunny said. "So Dad, if he's still out there, would know this place was still here. That I'm still here. That there's still a home for him to come back to..."

She sighed. And Hitch saw the pained look on her face. He reached to put a comforting hoof on her shoulder. "I'm sure he'd be glad to see this place, Sunny. To see you, keeping it going, all by yourself."

"Thanks." She smiled at him. "Now, what'd you want to talk about?"

"Um." He cleared his throat. "Hope you don't think I came up here just to toot my own horn but... guess who's gonna be the new Sheriff in town, huh?"

She feigned confusion. "Sprout?"

"Sunny..." He gave her a hurt look. And she snickered.

"Gotcha! That's great news, Hitch. Couldn't have happened to a nicer Deputy."

"Well, it helps that I'm the only Deputy around here. But yeah, I guess I deserve it. It does mean I'm gonna have to be a little stricter, though. Especially with a certain somepony? Who goes around bending the rules all the time?"

"I can't imagine who that might be," Sunny said. "And I'm sorry to be a bother, Hitch. But... it's like lighting this candle." She indicated the softly glowing orb. "I have to keep Dad's dream of unity amongst ponies alive. I have to. It's my responsibility. Just as much as keeping the peace in town is yours."

Hitch nodded. "I hear you, Sunny. But you want to be careful. You keep up all this tie-dyed protest stuff, you might find yourself labeled as some kind of weird radical."

She sniggered. At his curious glance she shrugged. "Sorry, it's just that, to me 'radical' means a fractional exponent. Blame it on all those math problems Dad set for me when I was little. But I get you, and I'll try to tone it down a bit. Thanks for the warning, Hitch... and for being such a good friend."

"Hey, I'm not only your friend," he said, striking a pose. "I'm the Sheriff!" Then he paused, thinking about that. And looked at her.

"Would you do something else for me, Sunny?"

"Sure, what?"

"I'm... worried, just a bit. That the job, the responsibility, it might make me, well..." He shrugged. "I don't want to end up being too serious. Too scary, like Sheriff Light was all the time. I want ponies in town to respect me, yeah, but I also want them to think of me as a friend. Somepony they can turn to, and come to if they're in trouble."

Sunny nodded. "I don't think you need to worry, Hitch. Everypony likes you and respects you."

"Maybe, but could you help me remember it? Like, if you see me acting too serious, too caught up in the job, just gimme a nudge to remind me?"

"Absolutely!" She laughed. "In fact, we'll start right now."

"Oh?"

"Yeah. You want to join a super-secret, radical society?" She gave him a dangerous look.

"Uhh... sure?"

"Great! Because I couldn't find anypony else. So we can be the charter members... of the PFFC: the Pony Friends Forever Club!"

He gave her a look. "Seriously?"

"Oh yeah! And we'll need a secret hoof-shake. It goes like this."

She walked him through it. And though Hitch was pretty sure she was making it up on the spur of the moment, she was so excitedly determined about it that it was hard not to want to join in. It even came with a rhyme, which she invented on the spot too:

Up high, down low,
Hitch it to a post,
Flip it sunny side up,
And on a piece of toast!

Hitch was about to dismiss the whole thing as silly, but then thought about it. And grinned.

"You're right, Sunny. It's perfect. Whenever I'm looking too grim, too wound up in the job, you make me say it with you. If that doesn't snap me out of it, nothing will."

"Is that an order, Sheriff Hitch?" she asked, importantly.

"Why not?" he replied with a smirk. "Not bad, huh, for my first one? 'Course, I did have some help..."

And they both laughed at that.

------------------------------

Phyllis Cloverleaf woke from restless dreams, in her silk-canopied bed. Groggy and grumbling, she reached out a hoof in the darkness for the side-table, for her pink-framed glasses and her notebook.

If I can't stay asleep, she thought, might as well try to brainstorm ideas for the new product line.

She reached and swiped at empty air, nearly taking a tumble out of the bed. Puzzled, she sat up and peered around.

Beyond the confines of the bed she saw only a bare, lifeless plain, under a burning crimson sky. Uneasily, she climbed out of bed. The ground was cold and gritty. There were little sharp-edged pebbles scattered like tacks everywhere, which made walking a constant distraction. Phyllis shook her head, annoyed.

A prank, she thought. Somepony's idea of a joke.

"All right," she called out, loudly and sharply. "Very funny. Now, whose idea was this?"

MINE.

Phyllis spun, wincing at the sharp stabbing of the pebbles underhoof.

And hunched in terror.

Looming in the smoke-filled, hotly flickering sky above her was a massive shape, with blazing eyes. Phyllis squinted, lacking her glasses. It looked like a pony, but it had... a horn? Wings? It was hard to tell. Its outline was vague, shifting like smoke or shadows. Except for those eyes, which blazed like furnaces.

"Who... who are you?" Phyllis asked fearfully.

The looming form dove at her, and Phyllis cowered as it landed right before her, in an explosion of flame and smoke. Out of which walked...

"Oh, my word!" Phyllis said in relief. "Officer Light! Is that really you? I am so glad to see you. Now, can you please tell me where I am and what... er..."

Phyllis's voice trailed off, looking at the armored pony striding towards her. At its sword-like horn. The wings folded over its back. The coal-like red glowering of its eyes.

"Oh..." Phyllis whispered. "It isn't you, is it?"

The creature smirked at her. "Right now, that's not what you should be worried about. I'm here with a warning. And pay attention, because we haven't a lot of time. These dream-links are difficult to maintain even in the best of circumstances. But you need to realize your quaint little township and its ponies are under serious threat."

"From what?" Phyllis challenged. "From you?" Then she hunched in fear, as the armored mare stalked closer.

"Oh no," it said silkily. "I'm here to help." The pony smiled craftily. "That is, if you want me to..."

Phyllis shivered.

"I'm... not sure that'd be a good idea."

The specter eyed her coldly.

"It never is."

The dark mare strode in a circle around Phyllis, her armored hooves effortlessly crushing the sharp pebbles to dust. "But you left it a bit too long, haven't you?" she warned. "Now it's almost too late. We tried it her way. You had your chance, with Argyle to warn you. You chose to ignore him. So now, we do it my way..."

She paused to glare at Phyllis.

"And trust me, honey, this is not going to be easy."

"We'll... we'll stop you!" Phyllis shouted. "Whatever it is you're planning, we'll fight you!"

"Who, me?" The pony looked surprised. "I keep telling you silly little ponies, I do nothing! You do it all yourselves. I merely remove the obstacles. Grease the skids. If I were to actually try stopping you, you'd fight me tooth and hoof, every step of the way to your own immolation." She shrugged indifferently. "So, unhappily, we have to do it the hard way. Force the threat from hiding, hope that you recognize it in time. And that it doesn't get you first."

She stepped closer, and Phyllis stared fearfully into those blazing, flickering eyes.

"Understand, I can do nothing," it said. "Other than warn you to be watchful and prepared. And you'll need allies, from the unicorns and pegasi. The threat to your town, to your lives, is nearer than you think. And you won't be able to attack it, because it'll wear a familiar face. And if you do not act, it will destroy you."

The dark mare leaned close, whispered in her ear. Phyllis felt sickened by the choking wash of brimstone and ash.

And you'll welcome it, willingly... because there'll be nopony left to stop you...

Phyllis gasped, horrified...

And sat up, bolt upright, in her bed.

She looked around fearfully, saw her palatial suite, lit by gentle, brilliant moonlight. Everything looked normal, and quiet.

Phyllis sighed, shaking her head. "Gotta lay off the chocolate pudding before bedtime. No matter how good it is for the mane..."

Then Phyllis reached for her glasses and her notebook, and picked up her jeweled fountain pen. Tongue between her teeth, she ruminated thoughtfully, trying to capture the essence of the dream before it slipped away, like her dreams always did.

In the back of her thoughts there lurked disturbing images of a dark plain, a looming menace, a firey-eyed threat... but her business-like mind quickly dismissed such things as the useless phantasms they were. Best to focus on the random associations her subconscious had dredged up, see how they might best be harnessed into workable product concepts. "Hmmm, something about... unicorns and pegasi?" she murmured to herself. "And ponies needing to be properly prepared? And the best way to do that is..."

Her eyes lit up, and she scribbled quickly. The dam had broken, her designer's mind was fully engaged. And the ideas...

The ideas just flowed...

------------------------------

The next morning, Phyllis stood at the podium on the stage in the factory's newly-built product-testing and shipping area. It was packed wall-to-wall with workers, anxiously awaiting her presentation. And she didn't disappoint them.

"Good morning, everypony! Sorry to drag you away from the construction work, but I have an important announcement. Today is the beginning of a brand-new marketing push for the company. I call it... Safety with Style!"

On the presentation screen behind her, projected images displayed rough sketches. A sparkling crown with a gossamer canopy that would protect the mane from sudden rain squalls. Sturdy but functional boots that would avoid slips on even the iciest streets. A shimmering golden cape that would improve visibility on late-night walks, yet still look stunning in daylight. And other ideas, her design book was just chock-full of them.

"Our new product line," Phyllis went on, "will focus on making ponies look their best, while at the same time providing the utmost in safety and security. We'll have customers leaving this showroom all wanting to know when they can be part of this new fashion trend. And at the same time, we'll be keeping all of Maretime Bay safe. I mean, how can you top that, huh?"

She looked around at the gathered workers. "Well? Whaddaya think? C'mon! Honest opinions, hot off the griddle. Anypony?"

A helmeted pony cautiously held up a hoof. "Uhh... keep us safe from what, ma'am?"

"Duh!" scolded another. "From unicorns and pegasi, obviously!"

An elderly mare shivered. "Oh, my hoofness! I don't want to even think about those creatures. Skulking around, mind-controlling us, snatching away our fillies and colts..."

"Yeah!" agreed Toots. The chunky pony quivered like jelly. "They're scary, all right. But don't you worry! Ms. Cloverleaf knows what to do. She'll make sure we're prepared for anything. Whatever got Sheriff Light, she'll make sure it won't get us too!"

Other ponies nodded in agreement. "Yeah! ... That's right! ... Ms. Cloverleaf will know what to do!"

Phyllis stared around at the crowd, feeling at a loss and just a little annoyed. They were completely missing the point. This new product line was about making ponies look good, while warding off life's little accidents. It had nothing to do with those other pony tribes. Huh, as if!

But then, like any good fashion and marketing mogul...

... she pivoted smoothly to meet customer demand.

"That's right, everypony! Fashion, function, and defense against attacks by those other pony tribes. We won't be caught off guard, unable to defend ourselves. We'll keep Maretime bay protected. In grateful memory of our own Sheriff Light, valiantly lost in line of duty. And you'll be able to tell your little fillies and colts that Mommy and Daddy are working hard every day at Canterlogic, helping to keep them safe and secure. Because..."

She paused and blinked, startled. The idea had just come to her in a flash, as she looked at the scared faces staring up at her, their eyes pleading, beseeching. Seeking answers, from anypony.

"Which brings me to our new slogan --" That I only just now thought of, Phyllis admitted privately. But that's how this works.

She grabbed a sheet of acetate and a marker, scribbled quickly. Then she slapped the result on the projector, flashing it on the screen for all to read:

TO BE SCARED... IS TO BE PREPARED

The herd of ponies looked at each other, then at her.

And they broke into applause. Cheering, shouting, and stamping loudly, a thundering roar of approval.

It was music to Phyllis's designer soul. She smiled proudly, gazing around at those happy faces, which sought assurance and found it in her. She was doing her job, giving ponies what they wanted.

And if being a little frightened helps ponies feel more secure, then who am I to tell them otherwise?

Once again, she'd played her cards right and come out on top, with everypony hanging on her every word.

Phyllis nodded.

Some days, she really loved her job...

The Watcher

Many moons later, on a brilliantly clear morning, the new Canterlogic factory building stood like a diamond-spangled tiara atop Butter Hill, shining for miles. Its trademark giant pink designer spectacles gazed down, empty-eyed, from the glass-fronted facade. Banners hung from the streetlamps in town, signs were posted everywhere, announcing the First Annual Canterlogic Presentation and Showcase. And ponies from all over town were gathering, eager to see what Phyllis had in store for them.

There had never been a new election for Mayor. There seemed little need for it. The office felt redundant without Phyllis in it. She always knew what ponies wanted and needed. It was like she'd simply moved her mayoral office to the factory.

And among the herd of ponies trotting up the factory's front walkway, hidden in the huge crowd, there was an orange-coated, rose-maned mare wearing dark glasses and a hat, an unremarkable iron-gray carryall covering her cutie-mark.

Which was how Hitch spotted her right off.

"The trick to looking inconspicuous, m'dear..." he whispered to himself in Brisk Bronco's trademark soft drawl, "is not to appear like you're being it. Doing it. Uh, whatever. Let's get this over with."

"Sunny," he called, trotting over to her through the crowd. "What're you doing?"

"Oh! Uh, ah'm very sorry, officer," she replied in a strained farmpony accent. "But y'all must have the wrong pony. Name's Apple Juice, and I..."

"Seriously? Sunny, you could win a Tosca for Worst Acting of All Time." Trotting around, he lifted a side-flap of the carryall. "And what is it now? More flyers and posters? For maybe another brunch with unicorns and pegasi? The last would have worked so well, wouldn't it, if any had actually shown up?"

Grunting, Sunny removed the hat and glasses. "If you must know, Hitch, it's a little counter-propaganda... for that!"

She pointed at one of the placards standing to either side of the entry path, like sentries. They showed large, art-deco images in bold, dark colors. Of a looming, dark pony shape with flaming red eyes, backed by a crimson sky, menacing a small helpless white pony on a green plain. On some of the placards and posters, the looming pony was a unicorn. On others, it was a pegasus. Some had both wings and horns. But in any case, the implied menace was all too clear.

"Really, Hitch. These are just sick! And they're all over town. What is Ms. Cloverleaf thinking? Is she trying to give her customers nightmares? And these don't even look like unicorns and pegasi. The proportions are all wrong!"

"And... you would know that?"

"Yeah! From Dad's research! Unicorns and pegasi are pretty much like us, essential differences aside. I don't know where this is coming from." She scowled at the placards. "But it has nothing to do with reality. And we need to make sure everypony knows that."

"Uh... we?"

"Come on, Hitch! You're the Sheriff! You really think this Safety with Style stuff Phyllis is touting is such a good idea? She's scaring ponies, taking their fears and turning them into a marketing pitch! I mean, that sounds pretty darn close to incitement to riot or something, am I right?"

Hitch sighed. "There's nothing actually illegal here," he said. "If Phyllis thinks this is the way to sell a few hats and boots and other high-tech gizmos, there's not a whole lot I can say about it. But I don't think you have to worry about riots in town, Sunny." He tossed his head, giving her his trademark smile. He couldn't quite get his teeth to glint when he did it, but he was working on it. "Not with ol' Sheriff Hitch on the job, keeping the peace, eh?"

For once, Sunny didn't laugh. She just stared at him, uncomfortably. He tried to remember where he'd seen that look on her face before. And then he remembered. That day when they were little, and she was trying to figure out why something ponies said or did just didn't measure up to her expectations.

And now she was giving him that look.

"Uh --" he began.

"You know something, Hitch?" she suddenly exploded. "The town would be a lot better off if you'd just come down off that movie screen and take a look at what's really going on. And just... just quit it with the Brisk Bronco act! It's not fooling anypony!"

"What?" Hitch stared. "But... Sunny, that has nothing to do with this! I'm just trying to... project an image of strong, sensitive confidence. So ponies know they have someone in charge they can count on."

"You're posing for your close up, that's what you're doing!" she retorted. "You're letting the badge go to your head. You're totally desperate for attention!"

Hitch paused, mouth open. He was uncomfortably aware that she might have a point. He'd thought he was giving ponies what they wanted, projecting an image they needed to see in their Sheriff.

But maybe Sunny was right. Maybe he was overdoing it. So, maybe...

"And," Sunny went on furiously, "if I hear one more quoted line from one of Bronco's films, I might just... well... forget everything Dad ever taught me about civil discussion, that's what!"

"Hey!" Hitch yelped. "You leave Bronco out of this!"

"Oh, really? It's not his name, you know!" She said it with the grim relish of landing a long-restrained blow. "I looked it up. His actual name is Trailer Park. And he's about as heroic as a theater usher. Which is what he used to be, before the Butter family bankrolled his film-making career as a convenient distraction for ponies in town."

Hitch set his mouth in a thin, hard line, trying to remember he was still on duty here.

"Well... maybe I might be reaching for attention just a little bit. But I'm not the only one, Sunny! And I'm actually doing a job! You wouldn't be getting in nearly as much trouble if you weren't holed up at that lighthouse all day, coming up with these crazy pranks and schemes, just to get noticed. You need to stop living like a hermit. Try to fit in more around here --"

"And do what? Get a job? Start behaving like any normal pony?"

"It might help!"

Sunny looked about to fire back with what she thought of that. Then she paused, eyes wide.

"You know..." she said, slowly. "Maybe you're right, Hitch. Maybe I have been going at this all wrong..." She suddenly beamed widely. "That's a great idea! Thanks!"

And she turned right around, galloping away through the crowd.

Hitch was left with his mouth hanging open, his hoof raised. Caught in mid-tirade, with nopony on the other end to lash out at.

He looked down at Beans, the small seagull wearing a tin can for a helmet.

"If I ever figure her out, it'd be a serious change of pace, huh?"

Beans squeaked agreeably at him. It was what the seagull always did, when addressed. Hitch wasn't sure if Beans actually heard what he said either.

He shut his mouth firmly, adjusted his bandanna and badge. And got back to the business of keeping tabs on the crowd heading up the path to the factory gate. For a brief moment, he glanced over his shoulder at the placard behind him. At the looming, flame-eyed pony -- unicorn, pegasi, whatever it was.

Then he turned his back on it. He had more important things to focus on right now.

And, he told himself crossly, Brisk Bronco is not fake, no matter what anypony says...

------------------------------

That evening, Sunny lay in her bed, feeling drowsy but unable to shut down her rambling thoughts enough to drop off to sleep.

She felt uncomfortable about the argument with Hitch. She knew she could talk to him about it in the morning, apologize for calling him out. It was a low blow, running down a colt's favorite hero. However silly he might be about it sometimes.

Sunny also felt unsure about her plan, whether she could play-act that long. Hitch was right, she was bad at acting. But she'd have an entire year to learn. And that was the point, right? She needed the time, to be perfect at it.

She was troubled by the scare campaign Canterlogic was running. Ponies were being needlessly frightened. Encouraged to live in fear, of ponies they'd never actually met. All to get them to buy stuff, to get them to pay attention to Mayor/CEO/BigShot Phyllis Cloverleaf!

Sunny snorted derisively. That couldn't be right. And she wasn't sure she could put up with it, not for a whole year.

But it'll all be worth it, she reminded herself, if I finally, finally can get up in front of all of them, the whole town, and tell them the truth. Make them see it. Make sure everypony in town knows that Dad was right.

All of that, all of it, was true.

And none of it was what was keeping her from getting to sleep.

It was, Sunny realized, the ever-present sneaking suspicion, the lurking fear she tried to keep even from herself. That everypony in town might be right. That she was just a lunatic, living up here by herself in this drafty old lighthouse. A hermit, like Hitch said, out of touch with how things really were.

What if I'm wrong, she asked herself, feeling despair gnaw at her, as it often did when she lay awake at night like this. What if none of what I do actually matters?

She shut her eyes, sadly.

And then opened them.

There was somepony in the room.

She stared... then sighed in relief. "Sheriff Light?" she asked sleepily. "You're back?"

The pony put an armored hoof to her lips. And for some reason Sunny didn't find it strange that the mare was wearing a full kit of some kind of ancient black armor. Or that her eyes were glowing like firey coals.

"It's just a flying visit," the mare said, resettling her wings, her horn sparkling with magic. "I wanted to see how you're doing."

"I don't know," Sunny whispered dully, hovering on the edge of sleep. "I keep telling myself that everything I do, it's for a reason. Because ponies are frightened and scared, and they shouldn't have to be. Dad wanted us all to be friends, earth ponies and unicorns and pegasi alike. And I believe in that. But..."

"But?" The mare eyed her coldly.

"I wonder if it's really worth it. Trying to change ponies' minds, get them to see the truth. The way Dad tried to." She grimaced. "He wasn't able to do it. And now he's gone."

"Argyle knew what he was getting into," the mare replied, curtly. "Wasn't his fault if they didn't listen."

"But if I can't do it either," Sunny said. "Then what's the point? Am I just hurting myself here? Trying to live differently, trying to be different, from everypony else?" She looked up at the flaming, glaring eyes. "I think this is how Dad wanted me to be. But am I doing it right?"

The dark mare regarded her. And snorted in derision. "Your father wanted you to have the same freedom he had. To think for yourself, do as you see fit. What you make of that is up to you."

And then, as if unwilling to let that be enough, the mare sat down next to the bed. Shrugging a forehoof out of its iron shoe, she rested it on the covers.

Comfortingly.

"He would be proud of you, you know," she said. "And let's admit it, so am I. You remind me very much of somepony I once knew, a very good friend. Very bright, and very determined. She could be a hoof-full to deal with too, if memory serves." She sighed crossly. "And just like you, she was left on her own, in the middle of it all. Because to tell her one iota of the truth would be to terrify her into failure. And now, you are all they have left..."

She leaned closer.

"You have nothing to apologize for, Sunny Starscout."

Sunny smiled. "Thanks, Sheriff Light."

"My pleasure. And if you still have any doubts, let me just leave you with this little bit of advice... something your father once taught me, actually."

The mare removed her hoof from the covers, reshod it, and stood up, tall and proud. Somehow she loomed huge and terrifying over Sunny, a shadowy, flame-eyed figure in a glowing, stormy sky. Yet not threatening, not at all. Protective, shielding. Like she would let nothing happen to any pony she cared about and counted as a friend.

The law protects those who respect it, her voice boomed. But some things are beyond the purview of the law, aren't they? And it's up to each of us to recognize them for what they are, when the time comes...

She grinned, briefly. It was like a drawer full of knives opening and closing again.

"Pleasant dreams, Sunny," she said. And gestured with a hoof. "We command it..."

Then she was gone.

Sunny sighed contentedly in the darkness, turned over, and finally got properly to sleep.

------------------------------

Shortly therafter, in his own room above the candy store, Hitch half-awoke from tossing and turning uneasily, tormented by regrets and self-recriminations.

And found himself staring straight into a pair of burning, glaring, firey eyes.

"In the morning," the fearsome visage snarled, "go talk with her. Be there for her, like you're supposed to be." It scowled at him. "Or I turn your insides into fondue..."

Hitch gulped, and dazedly nodded in terror.

"Yes, ma'am! I'm on it, ma'am!"

The Presentation

"Today's the day, Dad! I actually have a plan this time. Wish me luck!"

Adjusting the picture of herself and her father, Sunny shut the door, strapped on her inlines, and set off. Down the Point and around into Maretime Bay, at top speed, a pony on a mission. For the past year, she'd toned it down, reeled it in. She'd managed to find a job delivering smoothies for Natural Flavors, who ran the smoothie stand on Shore Street. And she'd worked hard on fitting in and getting ponies to like her, or at least stop frowning in her direction as she swept by.

Well, enough of the restraint, she told herself. Today, everything changes. Today, the gloves come off...

Today was the Annual Presentation at Canterlogic. Take number two, and time to put her plan into action.

As she skated through town on her delivery route, with the smoothie-cart rattling along behind her, she put up stickers of smiling pegasi and unicorns. She drew hearts on the posters of the dark, menacing pony. She made balloon animals and smiled at fillies and colts, getting them to smile back at her, unsure why they were doing it but eager to join in.

She let out all the pent-up excitement, all the way through town. Today she was going to make a difference. Today she was getting in. And everything would change, she was sure of it.

Eager and excited, she rolled up to the front walkway of the Canterlogic factory, smoothie-cart in tow. And was quickly confronted by Hitch, appearing from behind the sign at the base of the walkway.

"Aha! There you are, Sunny. Just the pony I was expecting."

"Morning, Sheriff Hitch." Then she smiled past him. "I see you brought the whole squad along again."

Hitch glanced at the two seagulls and shore-crab escorting him. He groaned. "What is it with me and critters? I'm like a magnet to them. Guys, c'mon. Give Hitch a little space!"

The seagulls and crab stepped back smartly. Nearly an entire inch.

"So?" said Sunny breezily. "What's up?"

"Oh, please," Hitch retorted, "like you don't know? Today is the Annual Presentation at Canterlogic --"

"Hey, I'm headed there right now!"

"Uhh, no you're not! Listen, I know you've come up with some hare-brained scheme to sabotage it. And if you think I'm just gonna let you walk in there..."

"Hey, Hiiiittchh..." she said, playfully.

"No."

"C'monnnn!"

"Good Morning, Sheriff Hitch!"

"'Morning Mayflower! Dahlia!" Hitch nodded to the passing mares. Then he turned back to Sunny. He scowled fiercely, refusing to be drawn into whatever she had in mind.

"Sunny, I'm on duty."

She waggled a hoof in the air. And even with the skate on, Hitch recognized it. The old club hoof-shake. Which they hadn't done for moons. And thinking that, Hitch realized he was being exactly the kind of gloomy, by-the-books pony he'd always worried about. And she was calling him out on it.

Well, I did ask her to, he told himself. And he gave in:

Up high, down low,
Hitch it to a post,
Flip it sunny side up,
And on a piece of toast!

And even as Hitch said it, he had to admit it did make him feel better. It was just like old times, when they were little. He kept her out of trouble, while she, well... kept him honest. He'd missed that. Missed having a friend like her.

Unlike some ponies I might mention...

As he thought that, he heard an exhausted, gasping sound coming from behind him and turned to see Sprout himself, trudging up to lean against the placard.

"I did what you asked for, Hitch. She never left my sight. Not even once."

"Oh, hey, Sprout!" Sunny said. "You okay? You seem kinda wheezy."

The red colt managed to pull himself together enough to look affronted. "That's Deputy Sprout to you."

Sunny started to turn away, towards the path, and Hitch quickly got in front of her. "Hey, wait up! I'm not finished! Sunny, we both know how this goes. Every year you try to sneak in, and every year I stop you."

"Look, you have nothing to worry about," she said. "I'll just go into the factory... deliver my smoothies..."

"Nuh-uh!" Sprout shouted. "You can't set a hoof in there! My mom had you banned!"

"But I..."

"I'm asking as your friend, Sunny," Hitch said, and meant it. "Not as Sheriff. Just... please try not to pull any stunts today?"

"Okay, okay!" she said. "I'll try..."

"Thank you. Now, give your delivery to Sprout, and go home."

Then Hitch was distracted by a pony nearby casually tossing aside a candy-wrapper. He rushed off, quoting regulation numbers, with the critter brigade hurrying along behind him.

Sunny grinned at that. And turned...

... to find Deputy Sprout smirking at her.

"Buh-bye..." He snickered triumphantly.

Sunny rolled her eyes and turned away, leaving Sprout to tug her smoothie-cart up the path and into the factory.

Which... was the plan all along. Sunny smirked at how easily she'd pulled it off.

Hitch was mollified and not watching her closely. And if Sprout didn't actually drink all the smoothies himself and end up in a sugar-induced coma somewhere, he'd at least be kept busy trucking them around the factory. Long enough for Sunny to casually stroll round to the side entrance, where neither the Sheriff nor his Deputy were on duty now. And hoping against hope Sprout was only exaggerating, as usual, about her being banned.

The workpony who was stationed by the side door looked up in surprise when she coasted up to it.

"Oh! Hey, Sunny."

"Hey, Pipe Wrench!" Sunny beamed sheepishly. "Look, I was in a bit of a rush this morning. So I asked Sprout to take my smoothie cart around in the factory?"

"Oh yeah," the workpony nodded. "I did see him walkin' by with it."

"Yeah. Unfortunately," Sunny went on, "he hasn't brought the cart back yet. And I'm done with my other rounds."

"That Sprout..." The workpony shook his head. "He might be Deputy, but he's not the brightest bulb in the box, you know what I'm sayin'?"

Tempting as that was, Sunny let it go. Eyes on the prize, she reminded herself.

"It's just that, well... Natural Flavors will be ticked if I show up without the cart. He's gonna need it for the afternoon crowd, after the presentation. Would it be okay if I just popped inside, found Sprout, and got the cart back?"

Sunny gritted her teeth. It was make or break now.

"Pleeeease?"

The workpony looked doubtful. Then grinned. "Sure. Go on in." He waved a hoof. "Don't tell nobody I let ya."

"My lips are sealed," she assured him, and skated on past.

And as she navigated the corridors beyond, she resisted the temptation to burst into song. I'm in, she thought. Now, to pick up my cache of supplies, and we're ready to rumble...

She felt briefly guilty for deceiving Hitch. Then she shrugged resignedly.

At least I didn't have to flat-out lie to him about it. I said I'd try...

------------------------------

It was much later, that afternoon.

After the debacle at the factory. After the panic in town. After the showdown in which Sunny blatantly defied Hitch's authority as Sheriff, then ran away from justice...

Geez, Hitch thought to himself. Was there actually anything utterly crazy that didn't happen today?

Hitch was standing in front of the lighthouse on North Star Point, staring in disbelief at a distant hilltop over which the road out of town curved and dipped away. Watching Sunny gallop away into the distance, accompanied by the blue-haired, freakishly blasé unicorn, who had somehow managed to throw the entire town into chaos just by showing up.

As he watched, the two disappeared from sight. And even with his anger at Sunny for breaking her word, for deceiving him, for harboring a fugitive, for giving aid and comfort to the enemy, for...

Hitch brought himself to a halt.

Sunny was right. That's Brisk Bronco talking.

Even given all of that, Hitch's heart sank at the sight. It felt like... like he was losing her. Losing Sunny, the one real friend that he had in the entire town.

Hitch had never understood the way she thought. He constantly found himself at a loss facing her brilliantly anarchistic approach to pretty much any problem. She broke every rule, turned things upside down, seemed to delight in the chaos she caused. And she always, always left him grinding his teeth, trying not to shout at her to make her see sense.

Yet despite all that... he just couldn't stand the thought of losing her.

What would I do, Sunny, he thought sadly, if you never came back? Who would I be without you?

The thought jogged a memory, of the one time he and Sunny had been on anything approaching a date. It was ice cream, at the food cart by the railing on Shore Street. They were celebrating Sunny landing the smoothie delivery job from Natural Flavors, the one employer in town still willing to give her a chance.

Sunny had apologized to Hitch for being so harsh with him. And she actually apologized too for trying to sneak into the first annual Canterlogic presentation. "You were right," she admitted. "I really should do things differently. Just marching in through the front gate like that, without any kind of plan, that was really dumb, huh?"

"Yeah... it sorta was," Hitch cautiously agreed. "If you're gonna pull something like that you gotta be smoother, more subtle. Never let 'em see you coming..."

"Like Brisk Bronco?"

Hitch stared at her, warily. But she was smiling, in that wonderfully friendly way. Almost as if she was apologizing for making fun of Bronco, too.

Hitch finally nodded. "Yeah, like him. But you know, Sunny, truth be told, if you ever really went totally legit, I might actually regret it."

"Huh?"

"Every year, you try to sneak into someplace. And every year, I stop you. It's gotten to be a tradition with us. And I think the reason I keep letting you off, instead of locking you up and throwing the book at you, like I ought to do," he added warningly, "is because everypony else is so... so... law abiding." Hitch shrugged. "Without somepony like you around, breaking the rules all the time, what would my job be? Chasing after litterbugs and hoping for better?"

Sunny smirked, mischievously. "So you're saying... we're perfect for each other?"

Hitch huffed. "More like we deserve each other." Then he nodded soberly. "But yeah, if someday I finally brought it all to an end... by locking you up, or worse than that, by just standing by and letting you run wild... then where would I be after that? What would I do next? I'm the Sheriff, Sunny! I am the law around here. And how can I be the law, really... without somepony like you breaking it all the time?"

Sunny nodded. "And why would I keep doing it -- breaking the law, I mean? If I didn't have a friend like you trying so hard to stop me? You're right, Hitch, we do deserve each other. You keep me going. You keep me from giving up."

Hitch shook his head. "This is just not fair. It's easy to keep ponies in line when you don't know them personally. It's a lot harder when it's somepony you know so well. A friend you've known and liked ever since you were little. But I don't get to choose, do I? Around here, I am the law. So this one's on me -- at least, so sayeth Sheriff Bronco."

Sunny smiled, amused at how serious he was taking it. Then she held up a hoof, waggling it. And Hitch smiled thankfully. And did the hoof-shake with her:

Up high, down low,
Hitch it to a post,
Flip it sunny side up,
And on a piece of toast!

It helped, same as it always did. The same as she always did.

That was the reason he kept visiting the lighthouse.

And, Hitch decided, his thoughts coming back to the present, that's why I'm not going to let it end like this. I'm going to go after her. Bring her back personally, to face the full force of the law. Because I'm not just the Sheriff. I'm also...

... her very best friend.

And she deserved no less from him.

The End

My Little Pony: A New Generation, its characters and indicia are the property of Hasbro.
No infringement is intended. This story is a work of fan fiction, written by fans for fans of the series.

Author's Notes:

This entire story is mainly derived from this one scene, plus a few background hints elsewhere in the movie:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vt-k6L_IDoQ

And here's the hoof-shake in particular:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=a3qpPMjWl2E