Stargazing
A family of three sat together on the threshold of their front door, looking out at the stars, like any other family might do. The daughter, a light-purple unicorn, sat between the legs of her mother, a blue-grey pegasus. The father, a brown earth-pony, squeezed himself up as close as he could to the two other ponies and wrapped his arm around them.
Okay, let's step back for a moment, as they weren't exactly stargazing like any normal family would. In fact, you'd have a hard time referring to them as a normal family in any sense of the word. You see, their front door didn't open up to a yard, or a lake, or the open expanse of sky one might find in a city like Cloudsdale. Though, I suppose, it could if they wanted it to. Their front door was a portal... a gateway to any place in the universe. Any point in space-time could be their home.
Today, that point was in orbit around a trinary star system. Two stars and a pulsar orbiting one another, tens of millions of lightyears, and billions of years, away from Equestria.
The father smiled silently, cherishing this rare opportunity to spend time with his family. The mother, overcome by the beauty of the stars, shed a few tears from her slightly off-kilter eyes. The daughter was beaming in wonderment at the magnificent burning orbs before her.
"They're dancing!" The tiny unicorn announced, taking note of the rhythmic motions of the stars.
"And singing," her father replied, "Would you like to hear them?"
The child nodded her head enthusiastically, watching him retire to the depths of their home. He returned with a large antenna, which he propped up just behind them, and ran a cable from the device to a console on the far wall.
A whiny static came through the speakers in the foyer.
"Whoops, one sec!"
The pony withdrew a small, roughly cylindrical metal object from a nearby drawer, and held it in his mouth, pointing it at the dish. His mouth-held device activated, shining a dull green light and whistling, which in turn changed the sounds coming out over the speakers. The pitch shifted slowly at first, then accelerated, passing through multiple overtones of static before a clear, crisp, harmonic could be heard.
The soft, tranquil, nearly operatic sound filled the room, keeping perfect time with the movements of the stars. Out in the vastness of space, three celestial bodies had come together to become something beautiful — something greater than the sum of their parts. Through a series of perfectly random events, they would be in lockstep for billions of years, crafting beautiful music together. Organized, chaotic, noise.
The mother piped up. "Is that... Is that the Moonlight Sonata?"
"I do believe it is!" he replied, "Funny, I've been meaning to visit Beethoofen lately... Might have to play this one for him."
The pegasus looked back at the stallion, her beautiful yellow eyes expressing a certain amusement with the way he so carelessly played with history. The stallion reached out and took his wife's hoof, taking her into his arms and rocking gently back and forth with the rhythm. She buried herself into his shoulder, relishing the moment.
"I wish this could last forever," she said, after some time passed.
"As do I, my love. But every song must end. There are very few who know this better than I do."
"Even a song as beautiful as yours?"
"I've already had so many songs, more than most other ponies. Maybe more songs than I deserved."
"You deserved every single note," the mare declared with the utmost certainty, pulling her head back to look him in the eyes. The two ponies brought their lips together and shared a short but passionate kiss as the music died down.
"So, where to go now? We could go back home, or..." he paused while he scooped his daughter up onto his head. "...we could go to a planet made entirely of ice cream!"
"Ice cream! Ice cream!" Dinky yelled, staring into her father's eyes from above.
"Alright, ice cream planet it is, then!" he announced, depositing the unicorn onto the control panel of their wandering home.
"Made entirely of ice cream?" his wife asked, smirking.
"Oh, half-ice-cream, all-ice-cream, it's close enough. Go on, Dinky, throw that lever! The big red one!"
The filly complied, leaning her body weight down on the switch just to get it to move. When the deed was done, she stumbled a bit and stepped on another button, causing their home to rattle and shake. She gazed wide-eyed at her father, who only smiled in response.
"It's fine! See?" He flipped a single switch up and down twelve times — Celestia only knows what that would actually do — and turned a great big knob, stabilizing their flight.
"Now, see that brass bit there? Turn that really, really fast. We're about 2-billion years too late for ice cream, I'm afraid, but that'll get us right back where we want to be!"
"How fast?" Dinky asked, worried about the responsibility. He had never let her move them through time before.
"You're part Timelord, Dinky, knowing how fast is in your blood!"
"Okay!" She said, taking the brass disk in her hooves and spinning it as fast as she could. After a few turns, she let go and watched carefully as it coasted to a rest.
Her father looked at the monitors in front of him, moved the screens around to face his wife, and ruffled his daughter's mane. "She's a natural, Derpy, look at that. Two-point-three billion years, on the nose!"
Dinky checked her flank, as she always did whenever the Doctor let her pilot the TARDIS. Still blank. Oh well, maybe was still too young to get her time-travel cutie mark...
"Are we there yet?" the impatient filly asked.
"Not quite, we've still gotta move through space. Now just think, if you were a whole planet of ice cream, where would you be?"
"Over there!" She shouted excitedly, pointing in a seemingly arbitrary direction.
"Absolutely right!" He replied, gesturing towards the controls, "Go on then, full steam ahead!"
"But I don't know how to do that..."
"Of course you do! Just try it!"
The filly was still unconvinced.
"I'll be here to fix it if you mess up. But I believe in both my hearts that you can do it."
Dinky turned to face the control panel with a newfound determination. She trotted around the ring of buttons, knobs, levers, pulleys, and devices of complexity which transcended reasonable naming schemes, poking and prodding at whatever she felt like. Despite the fact that she didn't know what she was doing, she understood what she was doing, and that was all that mattered.
The Doctor glanced around at the TARDIS cautiously; it was rocking and swaying a bit more than usual, and the ride was particularly noisy, but he liked the noise. It was a cool noise. Finally, the TARDIS stopped, and so did Dinky, who was now wearing the biggest, most satisfied grin that either of her parents had ever seen.
"I did it!"
"Looks like you did! Now just throw that red lever back up to park her..."
Again, that particular lever took all of the little filly's strength. Giving up on operating it with her hooves, she squirmed underneath it and pushed up with her arms and legs, locking the lever into an upright position. Contented with her work, she jumped down onto the floor and headed for the door.
"Let's go get some ice ceam!"
"Indeed! Allon—"
"Allons-y!" Dinky shouted, before her father could finish.
"That's my girl!"