“ . . . Aaaand all done,” Fluttershy said. She examined the cast around Winona’s leg a second time to ensure the plaster had set properly.  Satisfied with her work, she helped the collie off of her examination table. Winona wagged her tail as she stumbled about on the floor, the extra weight on her left foreleg throwing off her balance enough to send her tumbling into the nearby wall. Fluttershy held her breath, but giggled in relief when Winona stood back up unphased.

“Now Winona, you really shouldn’t put so much weight on that paw until your leg begins to knit. You wouldn’t want to hurt yourself again, would you?”

“We’ll make sure she takes it easy fer th’ next few days,” Applejack said as she helped her dog stand back up. “Thanks again fer all yer help, ‘Shy—Ah know ya had plans fer this mornin’.”

Fluttershy began cleaning up her examining room. “Oh, it was no trouble at all. Rarity and I don’t go to the spa until later this afternoon.” She re-packed the gauze into its container and struggled to snap the lid back on. “Besides . . . mmph . . . I could never (urg!) turn away an ohmygoodness this isn’t working injured animal.”

The lid exploded open, sending her on her rump with a muffled “Eep!” A massive red hoof retrieved the lid and effortlessly snapped it into place.  “’Preciate it nonetheless, Miss Fluttershy,” Big Macintosh said as he slid the offending container under the table. “Cuttin’ inta your routine fer us, and all.”

He nodded towards a white rabbit that stood in the doorway, tapping his foot impatiently. Fluttershy gasped. “Angel Bunny, I’m so sorry, I completely forgot about your breakfast. And lunch! Oh my goodness, time sped by . . .”

Angel’s ears flopped as he nodded emphatically, stomach gurgling. A second later, he dove out of sight as a much deeper growl shook the floorboards beneath him. Macintosh cleared his throat and patted his stomach awkwardly. “Sorry ‘bout that,” he said. “Winona took her tumble down th’ stairs just as we sat down fer breakfast. Didn’t eat much after that.”

Angel cautiously poked his head back through the doorframe, his paws clutching a miniature chair and bullwhip. Fluttershy ignored him and looked at the larger Apple sibling with a sense of intrigue. “Oh—well, I was going to make lunch anyway . . . you could stay, if you like.”

“Wouldn’t wanna impose, Miss Fluttershy,” Macintosh said. “’Sides, we need t’ check on Granny Smith, an’ get this one back to th’ farm.”

He motioned Winona towards the front door. Fluttershy hid her face behind her pink mane, grateful that nopony could see her fighting back tears as her offer went unheeded.

Applejack fought the urge to combine face with hoof. Her brother was no dummy (his fancy mathematics were evidence of that), but horseapples did he have rocks for brains when it came to mares. She knew he didn’t mean to hurt Fluttershy like that, but at this rate the only way he would pick up on her interest in him would be if he found her sprawled across his bed, clad in socks and her rump in the air. Applejack shivered like Pinkie Pie on a caffeine buzz in an attempt to shake that image from her mind. Her brother was male, and therefore dense: drastic measures needed to be taken.

Scratch that—Fluttershy had just invited him to lunch. Alternative drastic measures needed to be taken. Preferably ones that didn’t involve socks.

“That’s right, Ah gotta git goin’,” Applejack said, shoving her brother to the side with enough force to send a fully-loaded apple cart flying (this translated to a gentle nudge for the massive earth pony). “Ah told Granny Smith Ah’d help her with—uh, somethin’. But Macintosh here would just love t’ stay an’ join ya fer lunch, wouldnt’cha?” Idjit.

Fluttershy peeked ever so slightly out from underneath her mane. “Really?” Maybe, just maybe . . .

It was fortunate that her vantage point didn’t let her see their faces. Macintosh looked at Applejack with a raised eyebrow, to which she replied by repeatedly glancing to the pegasus and back at him. Macintosh suddenly got the idea, a soundless “Oh” forming on his lips. “Ah—uh, um . . . eeyup.”

Applejack did facehoof this time. Thicker ‘n Pinkie’s chocolate icing . . . you’re many things in this life bro, but smooth ain’t one of ‘em.

Fluttershy did not see her; she was suddenly lost in her thoughts as the stallion helped her to her hooves, her heart fluttering like Rainbow Dash’s wings during a stunt flight. She stared at Macintosh for a full ten seconds before she remembered a promise of lunch. “Um . . . I was going to make a daffodil sandwich and some celery soup for lunch, if you were interested . . .”

“That sounds nice.”

The two of them were halfway to the kitchen when they heard somepony knocking at the front door. Applejack ground her teeth and raised her eyes to the ceiling, begging Celestia for patience. Fer th’ love of . . . Ah try so hard, Ah really do.

Fluttershy’s stomach growled, seemingly in agreement. “Oh, that wasn’t very nice of me. I should apologize for that to . . . um, whoever that is.”

Applejack snorted. “Don’ worry about it none—you can’t blame yourself fer bein’ hungry. Ah’ll get th’ door, seein’ as Ah’m on mah way out anyhow. C’mon, Winona.”

The collie hobbled alongside her owner as they made their way to the front of the cottage. Applejack looked through the eyehole and saw a curly purple mane on the other side of the door.

Rarity, Ah certainly hope it won’t kill ya t’ wait a day fer yer spa trip. Applejack braced herself for the oncoming storm and opened the door. “Rarity, howdy!” she said, sneaking a glance at the kitchen as she dropped her voice. “Um, lissen, now’s really not the best time—do ya think ya’ll could WAUGH!!”

Her glance became a stare as a grimy mass fell into her forelegs. Were it not for the trio of diamonds on her flank, Applejack could have easily mistaken this mare for somepony other than Rarity. She felt rather than saw the mess of twigs and dirt woven through the unicorn’s fur, and something was making her hooves stick to Applejack’s legs. She looked down and recoiled to see the pristine white fur around her friend’s forelegs stained red. Rarity didn’t see the cowpony so much as stare through her, her mouth moving on its own in a near-indiscernible whisper.

“. . . outside . . .”

“MACINTOSH!” Applejack screamed. “FLUTTERSHY! HELP ME!”

She gently lowered Rarity to the ground and heard the two ponies behind her. Applejack was not shy of raising her voice when the situation called for it, but neither of them had ever before heard her panic enter her tone.

One glance at Rarity was all it took for Fluttershy’s mind to switch gears; gone was the timid, kindly introvert, replaced by a mare of medicine with a patient to care for and little time for shenanigans. She shoved Applejack aside with strength belying her timid nature and immediately began checking the unicorn over. For her part, the cowpony stood up and backed away from her friends.

Sweet Celestia in socks that cain’t be Rarity—oh mah goddesses it IS Rarity what the hay happened to her is that her blood what the haywhatthehay. . .

She backed into her brother, who barely registered the impact. His trademark wheat stalk fell to the floor as his jaw went slack in a rare expression of emotion. Applejack’s head turned on its own—there was no way she wanted to see what had broken Macintosh’s stoic demeanor, but she couldn’t help it as her gaze went through the doorway, drawn to the broken purple form outside. . . “Twilight . . . ?”

“By th’ Sisters,” Macintosh murmured.

Behind them, Fluttershy had finished her initial look-over and propped Rarity up onto the couch. The unicorn caught her shoulder and whispered something into her ear. Fluttershy nodded and flew, actually flew over to join the Apple siblings at the doorway.

“Macintosh, go to the hospital and get a Life Flight crew out here right away. Applejack, I’m going to need you to stay here and help me until help comes.” Neither of the earth ponies gave any sign of acknowledgement. “For goodness’ sake, I’m talking to you, Big Macintosh!” She smacked him hard, right on the cutie mark. “HAUL PLOT, MISTER!”

Macintosh reared back and whinnied before taking off like he had been stung. Under other circumstances, Applejack would have been horrified at the implications of Fluttershy’s hoof upon her brother’s flank; as it was, she shook her head and snapped back to the present as her orders sank in.

“Help ya’ll here—right. What do ya need me to do?”

***

Fifteen minutes later, Applejack found herself doing one of the last things she would have ever thought she would have done in her life. Ordinarily she would have found the act repulsive, vile, and utterly opposite to everything she knew to be good.

She was brushing Rarity’s mane. Willingly.

She had scrubbed the mess off of her forelegs, and while her fur was by no means unmarred, she looked more like somepony who had been working in her garden than . . .  well, somepony who had had blood on her hooves.

Muted noises from a closed door vied for her attention; Applejack brushed harder to try and distract herself from them. She forced herself not to think about Twilight’s sobbing or what it could mean, or about the implications of Fluttershy taking her to the back room— a room she had set aside for her veterinary work.  Another noise filtered through the door, one Applejack remembered from earlier in the morning: the dull pop of broken bone sliding back into place. Twilight’s crying grew louder, and Rarity began to sob.

“Oh sugarcube, c’mere.” She hugged the unicorn from behind, and Rarity turned around to bury her face in Applejack’s chest. A dam broke inside her, and she wailed into the blanket of orange fur.

Agh—horn!

Applejack shifted ever so slightly, allowing Rarity’s horn room to move out of her chest and onto her shoulder. She knew Rarity was something of a drama queen: she had tears of joy which fell when she received a massive order at Carousel Boutique; tears of pleading when a customer threatened to take their business elsewhere (and by Celestia was she good at those); tears of frustration to cow her younger sister into submission (Sweetie Belle ignored these with ease); tears of anxiety for when her good fabric went missing (AJ had learned to duck when these came—a magically-summoned couch usually accompanied them, much to the chagrin of anypony caught in the way).

These tears were none of those. Applejack recognized them as the tears of somepony who had seen something terrible happen to a dear one, tears she herself had shed on the worst day of her life. Applejack held Rarity close and let her cry, stroking her mane in an empty gesture of comfort. Her crying eventually subsided into a dry hiccough, and she began breathing at a more regular pace.

“Feelin’ a little better?” Applejack asked. Rarity shook her head. “Okay then, sugarcube. Ah don’ blame ya. Why doncha tell me what happened? Start at th’ beginnin’.”

Rarity took a deep, shaky breath, and for a second Applejack thought she was going to break down again.  However, Rarity calmed down enough to begin speaking.

~/)(\~

The dawn light began filtering through the scattered clouds above Ponyville. Purple faded to soft red mixed with a trace of yellow as Celestia’s sun began its ascent to the east. Down below, the streets were largely deserted; window blinds shielded shops and homes alike from the intruding sunrise, and only a few ponies were out and about this early in the day.

And it’s so . . . tacky, Rarity thought to herself as she walked up to the library. I love you to death, my friend, but I really must teach you about interior design: green blinds would fit the natural brown of the tree so much better than faded purple.

Rarity pushed the thought from her mind. Fashionista or no, it was extremely rude of her to criticize Twilight’s décor. A mare of her stature should never (openly) insult another’s taste, however deserving. She rebalanced the saddlebags on her back and brought her hoof up, daintily knocking on the door to the library. No response awaited her.

How odd . . . I know Spike is still asleep, but surely Twilight remembered our outing? It’s not like her to forget. She knocked again, and this time a haggard voice answered from inside.

“Mrrrg . . . one second.”

Rarity rescinded her previous stance on criticism as the door swung open, revealing a disheveled purple unicorn. Bed mane abounded to the point that Rarity pitied the brush that would have to tackle it, and the eyes which vaguely stared back at her were red with bloodshot. “G’morning Rarity,” Twilight Sparkle mumbled.

“Good morning to you as well,” Rarity responded, only to find that she was talking to empty air. Twilight had retreated into the depths of the library, nodding for Rarity to follow her.  They went to the kitchen, where the heavenly aroma of coffee greeted her nose. Twilight’s horn glowed, and the coffeepot levitated to fill a massive coffee cup on the counter. She jerked her head at the pot and grunted in a gesture that Rarity vaguely interpreted as an offering.

“No thank you, darling, I’ve already had breakfast.” She watched as Twilight struggled to fit the coffeepot back onto the burner for a few seconds before giving up and levitating it next to her cup. “Not to be rude, but you look . . . less than fabulous. Did you have a long night?”

Twilight replied by emptying her mug in a series of gulps. “Yeah,” she said when she finally came up for air. “I got to bed around . . . threeish, I think?”

“Oh! I’m ever so sorry dear, I had no idea. We can go out another time if you would prefer, I’m in no hurry.”

Twilight shook her head, the glow of her horn forming a purple arc as she refilled her coffee. “No, it’s okay; I told you I would help you today, and that’s what I’ll do. I shouldn’t have stayed up as late as I did, but I’ll be fine.”

“Your coffee mug is sideways,” Rarity told her.

Twilight flipped the vessel right-side up, ignoring the searing puddle which had gathered around her hooves. “I’ll be fine,” she said again. “Let me just get my checklist and I’ll be right with you.”

Twilight stepped out of the room, and for a moment Rarity only heard silence. However, sounds of commotion quickly began to echo into the kitchen. Twilight’s frustrated grunting, frantic hoofsteps, books shuffling around and falling to the floor, more grunting, breaking glass, and—Was that a cow mooing?

“Twilight, is everything all right?” Rarity asked, suddenly hesitant to venture outside of the kitchen. Twilight stomped back in a huff, a stray hair springing out of place from her mane.

“No—I mean, yes, but not really. I just can’t—rrg, I don’t believe it!”

Rarity pulled Twilight over and stared at her. How did she fix her mane so quickly? Never mind—focus! “Twilight: What. Is. Wrong?”

“I can’t find my checklist! I know I made one last night for this trip, but I can’t find it. I’ve looked everywhere for it! What am I supposed to pack for our trip?!”

“A stack of books, a map of the area around Ponyville, a rock hammer, a folding shovel, a magnifying glass, a quill and parchment, and a canteen,” Rarity said. Twilight’s jaw slowly dropped as she stared at her.

“How did you know that?” Twilight asked slowly. Rarity turned her head to face the aforementioned supplies, neatly stacked at the end of the table alongside a pair of saddlebags and a pith helmet. Twilight sighed in defeat.

“Mornings . . .”

She packed her supplies and levitated her bags into place; however, she stared at the pith hat, hesitating. Is this too much? I don’t know . . . She put it on and caught her reflection in the window, but still couldn’t make up her mind. To be safe, she put it back on the table. “Yeah, maybe not. I’d look pretty silly.”

“Silly in what, now?” Rarity asked. Twilight turned to reply, only to see her friend in a massive white sunhat, adorned at the brim with purple lace and small amethysts along the crown. On top of this sat a pair of sunglasses so gauche that Rainbow Dash would destroy them on principle of un-coolness.

“Neeeever mind,” Twilight said, donning the pith hat once again. She looked around the kitchen one more time. Breakfast eaten? Check. Coffee drunk? Check. Saddlebags packed? Check. Silly hat donned? Check. Note for Spike?

“Uncheck,” she said aloud. “Sorry Rarity, one last thing and I’ll be ready to go.” She pulled a piece of parchment and a quill out of her saddlebags and hastily wrote her message.

Spike,

Rarity and I are heading out to Smaug’s Loft—we’ll be back later

in the afternoon. We’ll continue our research when I get back.

See you then!

Twilight

P.S. Did you see what I did with the checklist I made last night? I

couldn’t find it anywhere!

P.P.S. I’ve left some diamonds in the icebox for you—but DON’T

EAT THEM ALL AT ONCE, remember what we read last week about

balancing your gem intake?

P.P.P.S. I may have spilled some coffee during breakfast—would you

mind cleaning that up for me? Thanks!

She put the note on the table where Spike would be sure to see it. “All right—let’s go!”

“Yippee! Where are we going?”

“AAAAAAAAHHH!!” Twilight and Rarity both screamed, jumping away from the sudden appearance of a pink earth pony. “Don’t bucking SCARE me like that, Pinkie!” Twilight growled, her heartbeat pounding in her ears. “What are you doing in my kitchen?”

“Standing!” Pinkie Pie said with a smile. “What are you two doing up so early?”

“We could ask you the same thing,” Twilight said, struggling not to be angry with her friend. Twilight realized the gravity of her error a second later when Pinkie, either failing or choosing not to notice her tone, began her explanation.

“Weeeeeeellllllllllllllll it all started when I woke up a few minutes ago: my right hoof was all tappity-tap-tap-tapping  and I thought to myself, ‘Wowee, this is a new Pinkie Sense!’ and I looked down at my hoof only to see that it wasn’t tappity-tap-tap-tapping, it was Gummy bappity-bap-bap-bapping at it telling me to get up like he always does when he wants me to get up, so I realized that he probably needed to go outside and take care of his little alligator business, and I was really glad he got me because man you would not believe how hard it is to clean alligator doo off a hardwood floor.”

She paused and drew breath with enough force to stagger the two unicorns.

“So we both went down the stairs really quiet-like so we wouldn’t wake the Cake twins and I was humming my Sneaky Theme, except I was humming it out loud so I had to stop that until we got to the door, but when we got to the door I didn’t need to be sneaky anymore so I didn’t need to hum it—which was kind of a bummer ‘cause I LOVE the Sneaky Theme, it’s all ‘Bum, bum, bum, badadada bum, bum, bum, badadadum’—but then I saw movement  off in the distance and I told Gummy to stay put and watch for tangos (or was it mangos? I can never remember) while I went and checked for intruders, except it wasn’t intruders at all it was you two, and beside you two couldn’t be intruders anyway because you can’t intrude in your own home.”

Brace for inhalation . . .

“So—what are you two up to this early?”

“Rarity and I are going out looking for gemstones,” Twilight explained, her mind having already forgone the task of processing Pinkie’s explanation. “She asked me to help her look for new areas to dig, and we decided to make a day of it.”

Pinkie gasped in excitement (BRACE! BRACE!) and hopped around them. “Ohmygosh that sounds like sooo much fun!”

“Actually, it can be quite tedious,” Rarity told her. “If one does not know what signs to watch for when looking, gemstones can be very difficult to find. Up until recently, I’ve only gone to the area where I was abducted by the Diamond Dogs.” She shuddered at the memory of having such filthy captors; it had taken weeks to completely remove the dirt from her fur. At least it hadn’t been a total loss—she had recovered enough gems for all of Sapphire Shores’ outfits with an abundance left over.

“Then why do you need Twilight, silly filly?”

“My gem-finding spell has very limited range—I’ve been casting it everywhere around Ponyville over the past few weeks without much luck. Twilight’s knowledge of geology would be of invaluable assistance in narrowing down where to look.” Rarity sighed. “I admit, I feel very foalish for waiting so long to ask for help. Still, there’s no sense crying over some silly mistake.”

“You just keep on trying ‘till you run out of cake,” Pinkie agreed. Twilight stared at her.

“Cake?”

“Oooh, that’d go great with a party I need to start planning. Bye girls!”

She vanished from sight, leaving a Pinkie-shaped cloud of dust behind her which was dissipated by an unfelt breeze. The two unicorns stared at each other momentarily, then shook their heads.

“Oh, Pinkie Pie,” Twilight said. Rarity nodded in agreement.

“Well then . . . let’s be off before anything else happens. After you clean up, of course.”  Early morning or not, nopony should face the day with coffee staining their hooves.