“Disgusting,” growled Rainbow Dash for the fifth time, glaring at an indecently happy looking Pinkie and Cheese, who were seated together at the opposite side of Sugarcube’s. She poked at her smoothie and muttered something inaudible.

“Oh, Rainbow,” murmured Fluttershy. “Please stop saying that. That’s not a very nice—”

“Hi!” Pinkie chirped from directly behind Dash, blowing a roll-up noisemaker.

Fluttershy gasped, and Dash sucked up a gigantic gulp of smoothie and coughed a lot of it back up through her mouth and her nose. “Gah! Don’t DO that!” she spluttered. “You were just . . .I saw you . . . you were over there!”

“Yes indeedily!” Pinkie squeaked in agreement.

“I KNOW! I surprise myself like that, too!” said Cheese, popping up next to Pinkie. He placed a fez on his head at a jaunty angle and leaned on the back of Fluttershy and Dash’s booth.

“See, you looked unhappy about something,” explained Pinkie.

“And we thought we should make you smile,” Cheese went on.

“So here we are!” Pinkie finished, jumping into the booth over Dash, so she could sit next to her. “And we want to know what’s so disgusting.”

“I’m no expert,” said Cheese, as he slid in next to Fluttershy, “but some people would say making stuff come out your nose is pretty disgusting. Not me, of course,” he added, as Rainbow Dash shot him a glare that would strip paint.

“Oh,” said Fluttershy, “Rainbow didn’t say anything about . . .”

“Yes, I did,” snarled Dash, wiping the last of the smoothie splatter from her t-shirt. “I said it’s disgusting that the rest of us have to take exams next week and you guys don’t.”

“Who, me?” said Cheese, slapping his hand to his chest in shock. He turned, spreading his arms wide, as though calling on everyone in Sugarcube’s to act as a character witness. “I took my exams while I was suspended.” Pinkie’s head swiveled around. She frowned slightly. “It’s not my fault I finished early. I missed a week of studying time, too.”

“How were they?” asked Fluttershy.

“Brutal,” he replied, and Rainbow Dash groaned. “I’m not just saying that, either. They were tough. I didn’t know they’d ask about all those things I haven’t studied in years. All I could do was think calming thoughts about gumballs and try my best.”

“And I’m taking my exams, Dashie,” Pinkie said, squeezing her around the shoulders. “I missed a week and a half of school, and Principal Celestia said I shouldn’t take a whole week of exams with a head injury, though I feel totally fine, but I’ll take them later in the summer.”

“Oh, dear,” lamented Fluttershy, her hair sliding down into her eyes as she clapped her hands to her cheeks. “I just know I haven’t studied enough.”

“You don’t have anything to worry about,” said Cheese. “Thanks for getting my phone yesterday, by the way. I was a little distracted at the time.”

“You’re welcome,” she said, “but I don’t think so. There’s been so much going on, and . . .”

“Because you’ve been working so hard to help with the Cake Festival,” said Pinkie, “because Cheesie and I couldn’t do it, and you’re the bestest friend ever, and so is Dashie, and Applejack, and Rarity, and we just know you’re going to do super-fantastic on the exams!”

“Oh . . . it was nothing,” she said, blushing.

“I totally saved the day,” Dash agreed, grinning, her good humor restored. “Well, we did, I guess. But now the Wondercolts are in the playoffs and the Comets play their final game against the Cyclones on Saturday, and we’ve got tons of practices scheduled, so how am I supposed to study, too? Meh,” she shrugged. “I’ll manage. You’ll quiz me on stuff, won’t you?” she said, turning to Fluttershy, who nodded. “I still don’t think it’s fair, though, that we have to take exams while you two just goof around with the Cake Festival.”

Pinkie Pie frowned. “The Cake Festival is serious.”

“And it’s not goofing around,” Cheese added, lifting an eyebrow. “It’s called ‘community service learning.’ ”

“Oh, yeah?” retorted Rainbow Dash. “How do you get graded on that, anyway?”

Cheese took off the fez and scratched his curly head. “I’m not sure,” he admitted. “I think Vice Principal Luna comes to the Cake Festival, and if she has a good time, we pass.”

“And she’s gonna have a great time,” enthused Pinkie, “because Cheesie and I have thought of everything! There’s all the stuff we were planning, and all the great ideas you guys had, too . . .”

“Although I don’t think we’re going to be putting rainbows and lightning bolts on everything . . .” Cheese conceded.

“And we had to cut a lot of the sad looking killer whales, Fluttershy, so we’ve only got one near your table. Because the sad killer whales were too sad, and we want people to smile at the Cake Festival. Oh, that reminds me!” exclaimed Pinkie. “I wasn’t supposed to be downstairs in the kitchen last week, but I snuck down anyway and messed around with some things and now I’ve got some new cupcakes for you to try! If they don’t make you smile, well. . . they will make you smile! Back in a sec!”

She jumped straight over Rainbow Dash and scurried away to the kitchen.

Fluttershy smiled. “I’m so glad Pinkie is better and back again. It wasn’t the same without her.”

“Me too,” agreed Dash. “I’m not going to forget about it anytime soon, though, especially not with the gym roped off. It’s tough to schedule practices, and it’s just plain freaky to see all that busted metal in the ceiling. What if we’d been practicing down there? That could have happened to anyone.”

“A lot of people could have been hurt,” Cheese agreed. “Either it was metal fatigue, or someone went up into the ceiling and did some damage deliberately. And I’m pretty sure it was the second.”

“Why?” said Fluttershy.

“Well, Vice Principal Luna said that there was surveillance footage that proved I didn’t do anything to the grid. And the only way that makes sense is if the recording shows someone else doing it.”

Rainbow Dash’s jaw dropped. She burst out, “And whoever it did it is still running around out there? What’s up with that?”

Cheese shrugged. “Can’t identify the person from the recording, I guess.”

Rainbow Dash snorted. “That’s ridiculous. How long can something like that take? Sheesh, it’s like letting someone get away with murder.”

“Someone almost did,” whispered Fluttershy. They all sat very still for a moment. Finally Fluttershy said, “I’m sorry. I just can’t stand thinking about it.”

“Neither can I,” admitted Cheese, and switched his hat from a fez to a collapsible top hat, which he began absent-mindedly popping open and closed.

“Me neither,” said Rainbow Dash. “Somebody did this and one of my best friends almost got killed. I just want to . . .” She clenched her fist. “And in a way, it’s probably a good thing I wasn’t there when it happened. I just would have been so . . . so mad. And even now, if I ever find out who did this . . .”

“Dashie?” said Fluttershy. “Deep breath?” She carefully put her hand on Rainbow Dash’s back, and the other girl finally relaxed.

“Yeah,” she said to Cheese, with a shaky grin. “You probably think I’m crazy.”

“Well, you’re in great company,” he said, sticking his hand out to Rainbow Dash. “Shake.” She did so, immediately got shocked by a joy buzzer, and howled with laughter as she massaged her hand. “I just have a different response to stress.”

Pinkie popped up with a tray of cupcakes and sodas. “Wow. What’s with the crankycakes, everybody? What happened here? I leave for five minutes and everyone’s all—” She lolled her tongue out of her mouth and rolled her eyes. “Gosh, nobody died. There are cupcakes! And sarsaparilla floats! With silly straws! Smile, Dashie! Here, have a float with a silly straw. The Cakes have them left over from something. And cupcakes, you guys. These are new ones,” she said proudly. “That one’s strawberry lemonade. And it’s super fantastic!” She sat down at the booth, but next to Cheese this time, so that Rainbow Dash was forced to slide over.

Cheese tried to articulate something through a mouthful of cupcake, swallowed, and agreed. “It really is.”

A man in a suit strolled up to the booth. “I’m sorry—I hate to bother you, but what are those? I’d like to try one.”

“Strawberry lemonade cupcakes,” Pinkie replied, “but we don’t make them here yet. Maybe someday.”

“Too bad,” said the man. “Excuse me.” He headed for the exit.

Pinkie frowned. “What’s with that? I mean, I’m glad people like my cupcakes, but still, that’s kinda nosy.”

“Cupcakes. That’s something else you’re doing while we’ll be taking exams,” said Rainbow Dash, but not too grumpily. It was really hard to be grumpy while eating Pinkie’s cupcakes.

“We still have to go to school,” said Pinkie. “We have to check in every morning.”

“As long as we’re doing something constructive,” said Cheese. “Cupcakes are constructive, aren’t they?”

“Well, duh,” said Pinkie. “Cupcakes are the most constructive-y things ever.”

Rainbow Dash looked at the tray. “Pick another for me,” she said to Pinkie. “Surprise me.”

“These are s’mores,” said Pinkie. “I wanted to have something new for the Comets game on Saturday.”

“Oh, I’m sure Scootaloo and the rest of the team will love these,” said Fluttershy, nibbling at her cupcake.

“Yeah. Truth is,” said Rainbow Dash, talking with her mouth full, “if I had to choose which game to win, I’d pick the Comets.”

Fluttershy stared at her over the top of her cupcake. “You don’t want the Wondercolts to win?”

“Oh, sure,” she said, waving her hand. “I’m the captain, for Pete’s sake. It’s just that winning would mean a lot to Scoots, and to First Base. Scoots had all those injuries last year, and First Base—well, he’s Flash Sentry’s brother. They’ve worked hard all season, and I blew their last game for them.”

“Well, don’t worry, Dashie, I’ll be out there cheering for the Comets GO COMETS!” she shrieked, as every head swiveled around in her direction. “And I’ll bring a box of cupcakes.”

“And I think—I think,” Cheese said, “I might be there, too.”

“Oo, really?” squeaked Pinkie.

“No way!” blurted Rainbow Dash. “Since when are you allowed to do stuff like that?”

“Since I got un-grounded,” he replied, grinning. A frown briefly flitted across Pinkie’s face again. “Aunt Mela is really tired of the sight of me around the house. As long as I make my curfew that evening, I’m probably good to go. It’ll end like that”—he snapped his fingers—“once my mother gets wind of it, but I might as well enjoy it while I can, right?”

“New cupcakes—both of you guys cheering for the Comets—this is going to be so awesome!” Rainbow Dash whooped.

“I’m so super-fantastically excited you can be there, Cheesie!” exclaimed Pinkie, blowing into her straw so that her drink bubbled.

“I’m pretty excited about it, too,” murmured Cheese.

Fluttershy glanced up, startled by the change of tone in Cheese’s voice. He had his chin cupped in his hand, and he was gazing at Pinkie while she blew bubbles. One look at the expression on his face told her all she needed to know, and she jumped up from the table. “Come on, Rainbow,” she said, “you’re late for practice, aren’t you?”

“Huh?” replied Rainbow Dash, shaking her head and sinking back more comfortably into the booth cushions. “No. Tonight’s the one night I don’t have practice. I just want to chill.”

“Oh, but . . .” Fluttershy said urgently, “maybe we should study, then, especially if tonight’s the only night you have free. You should really catch up while you can.”

“Relax, Fluttershy,” said Rainbow Dash, stretching both of her arms along the back of the booth. “I’ve got plenty of time.”

Fluttershy took a deep breath, paused, and then let it go. “Oh, ok,” she murmured. “Sorry. I’ll just be leaving, then.” She turned and walked out of Sugarcube’s. Rainbow Dash sat there for a moment or two, a puzzled expression on her face. Then she grabbed her backpack and hustled out the door. From just outside, the café patrons could hear an aggrieved, “Well, if you wanted to leave, you could’ve just said!”

Pinkie blew bubbles for a few more moments. She looked up and said, “How come you didn’t tell me you were suspended or grounded, Cheesie?”

“Well,” said Cheese, looking up at the ceiling and avoiding her eye, “I couldn’t tell you I was suspended or grounded, because I was grounded. I didn’t even have a phone, so I couldn’t—”

“You could have told me when you came to visit with Fluttershy,” she pointed out. “Or yesterday, when I came back to school. And you didn’t mention it when you called before.”

Cheese tried looking at the tablecloth instead. “I just said I didn’t have a phone,” he muttered.

“I know you didn’t,” said Pinkie. “Anyway, now you’re gonna tell me all about it.” She moved the plate of cupcakes slightly out of his reach. It wasn’t a very effective gesture, as his arms were a lot longer than hers, but she’d made her point.

“Ok,” Cheese said, and sighed. “I give up. Just tell me what you want me to say, and I’ll say it.”

“Fluttershy and Dashie knew you were suspended and I didn’t know. Why?”

“I . . . well. . . I didn’t want you to worry,” he said. “I figured that you hit your head and you had enough to worry about, and then you came back to school and there just hasn’t been time.”

She scowled and poked at her drink, but there wasn’t anything left. “I can take care of myself,” she said. “Could you push me the cupcakes? Thanks.” She grabbed an orange one and began to unwrap it. “I really, really hoped that after I did a good job with the Cake Festival, everybody would see I could take care of myself and do things on my own and that there’s nothing wrong with me. Then they made me have an assistant, and that’s ok, ‘cause it turned out to be you, but really it was ‘cause no one thought I could do it. And now one stupid accident and everyone’s treating me like a baby again. I hate feeling dumb.”

“I don’t think you’re dumb, Pinkie!” he insisted. “No one thinks the accident was your fault. Rainbow Dash wants to punch someone’s lights out over it. I was just terrified for you. No one wants to do anything to make you worse. So I guess I have been a little overprotective. We all have,” he added quickly. “But I don’t mean for it to be insulting.”

“Then quit protecting me, ok? Stop hiding things from me for my own good. It’s not—y’know—good.” She picked up the empty cupcake paper. “Why don’t you tell me about anything, Cheesie?” she said, her blue eyes wide. “I thought we were friends.”

“We are!” he said. “At least, I hope we are. And I don’t mean to hide everything from you, Pinkie. I’m not doing it on purpose. I’m just not used to telling anyone anything, ever.”

“I don’t like secrets and lies. They make people feel bad. And it’s not what friends do.”

“I don’t know a lot about what friends do,” he said, cracking an egg into his top hat and swirling it around. “Does it mean I’d have to tell you everything?”

“Pssht, no,” said Pinkie. “I mean, if I wanted to throw you a surprise birthday party, I couldn’t tell you about it or it wouldn’t be a surprise anymore. You know what I mean, don’t you?”

He stopped what he was doing and simply stared at her for a long moment. “Ok,” he said finally, and pulled a bunch of flowers from the top hat. “No more big secrets. I’ll try, anyway.”

“Yay! That’s good, because now we can be like real friends,” she said, taking the flowers. “Hey, those are real flowers! I like them.” She placed them down on the table and licked the frosting off the cupcake paper. “Here, have another cupcake,” she said. “I probably wouldn’t have these new cupcakes if it weren’t for you.”

Cheese paused halfway through biting into a cupcake, getting frosting on his nose in the process. “How’s that?”

“I can taste things now. Everything doesn’t taste like an old tin can. And I’m feeling way better now, too, and I wouldn’t if you hadn’t said something about side effects. I think you’re the only person I’ve ever met who understood about things like that. So really,” she said thoughtfully, “these are Cheesie cupcakes.”

There was a long, long pause.

“You have frosting on your nose,” she said.

Cheese gulped. “Do I?”

She wiped it off and smiled at him. “Not anymore!”

Canterlot High was a much happier place now that Pinkie and Cheese were back. It felt almost as though school was out and summer vacation had started early this year. Even the pre-exam jitters couldn’t dampen the mood. It didn’t hurt that the Wondercolts had pulled themselves out of their slump and that Rainbow Dash was now captain again. Students lounged in the thick grass, watching Pinkie and Cheese racing back and forth doing outdoor prep work for the Cake Festival and enjoying their own relaxed mood. Watching all the party planning going on encouraged them to begin making plans of their own, some of which involved other students. Even Mr. Doodle and Ms. Harshwhinny didn’t sound as though they meant it when they scolded their students for not reviewing enough for exams, and Miss Cheerilee suggested in a staff meeting that the semi-holiday was actually good.

“No one can make up for a year of neglected work in a week of study,” she said. “And students do better on tests when they’re relaxed. Taking a few days off is good for them.”

Pinkie and Cheese themselves appeared to be in some sort of bubbly spiral. Since Cheese had already taken his exams, and Pinkie wouldn’t have to take hers until later in the summer, they were free to do other things, and while most of their time was spent working, they couldn’t work all the time. Once in a while, they sneaked into the band room and Cheese played the accordion for Pinkie, gradually moving away from the polkas they both loved into music he didn’t usually play in front of anyone. They practiced two-person juggling on the lawn. And somehow, they were also finding the time to dance, which was much easier now that Cheese had a reasonable curfew and didn’t have to account for every minute of every day.

“And Aunt Mela’s a lot happier, too,” Cheese pointed out, as they caught their breath, sitting with their backs against the gymnasium wall, “so everybody wins.”

“See?” said Pinkie. “This is the way things should be!”

All the happiness wiped from Cheese’s face as though by a giant eraser. “It’s the way it should be,” he agreed, “but it isn’t. My mother is going to be so steamed. To her, this isn’t a success, it’s a symptom, and I’m not sure what she’ll do about it.” He shook his head rapidly, like a dog trying to get something out of its ear. “Anyway, let’s not think about it.”

They’d started to practice in the gym, at the far end from where the accident had happened. They were guaranteed some privacy there, as the gym was officially off-limits, and they stayed well away from the treacherous roof. In fact, they weren’t far from where their audition table had been set up a few months ago.

“Remember the auditions?” said Cheese.

“Yep,” Pinkie said, stretching one of her legs and leaning over it. “That feels like a million zillion years ago.”

“I thought Trixie was going to spit tacks when Snips and Snails tried to steal her act. She wasn’t that pleased with me, either. Or with you.”

“She said something to me just yesterday. Let’s see, how’d she put it?—she said she’d overlook my past insolent behavior under the circumstances, and that in future, I could rely on the assistance of the Great and Powerful Trixie.” Pinkie shrugged. “I mean, who knew Trixie could be nice? That was a super fun polka you played, too. I’m really, really glad Flash’s band isn’t going to play any of those songs!”

“Let’s hope so,” said Cheese, knitting his eyebrows. “I thought he got the message, but I was getting my accordion out of the band room yesterday, and Flash in the Pan was playing something that sounded a lot like ‘Bedroom Spackling Project.’”

“You’ll just have to cut him off again, Cheesie. Oh, right,” she said, and sighed. “I forgot you weren’t going to be there.”

“You don’t remember anything about the accident, do you, Pinkie?”

She shook her head. “No. They said that sometimes happens. I’m not worried about it, though. I don’t think I want to remember, but I think maybe something changed.”

“Like what?” he said, turning to her.

“I don’t know,” she said, frowning. “I just feel—kinda more like me. Which doesn’t make any sense, because who else would I feel like if not me? But somehow I feel more like me than the me I was before. Anyhoo,” she said, jumping from her seat on the floor to her feet in one move, and holding out her hand to pull him up as well, “we’re both getting to play and dance and plan parties and make people happy, and that feels right, so I don’t really care how or why.”

Cheese paused, as though he were listening to something. Finally he said, “Do you hear polka music?”

Pinkie cocked her ear. “No. Wait. I’m not sure.”

“Yeah, I’m not sure either,” he agreed, “but I think I know just what you mean. I feel like I’m more me than me. Man, that is weird.”

“But fun, right?” she said, giving him a one-armed hug.

He smiled down at her. “You know it.”

She froze. “Sunset!” she said. “We forgot all about Sunset! I haven’t seen her for days and days! Come on, Cheesie—we can make it and catch her in the library if we hurry.” She grabbed her things and raced for the door.

“Wait a second,” said Cheese, as he hurried after her. “I already took my exams, and everything’s ok with Aunt Mela and Vice Principal Luna for now, and that’s as good as it was ever going to be. We don’t have to see her anymore, right?”

She whirled around to face him. “Duh, YEAH!” she said. “Because she’s feeling super lonely right now.”

Pinkie and Cheese stood at the foot of the library stairs. Despite its being the Friday before exam week, the library was nearly deserted. Evidently students had decided that whatever would be, would be, and had knocked off work early.

“Yoo-hoo! Sunset! Pinkie and Cheese down here! We’re ready for our lesson!”

There was no answer, except for some coughing in the distant reaches of the second floor. Pinkie turned to Cheese. “C’mon, Cheesie. Let’s go on up and find her.”

Sunset Shimmer sat, still surrounded by mirrors, her books covered in dust. Her head was pillowed on her arms.

“Hiya, Sunset! Are you ready to teach and learn and stuff?”

Sunset sat up slowly, shaking her head. “Why are you even here?” she said. “You don’t need to be tutored anymore. You don’t need lessons.”

“Not our lessons,” said Pinkie, plopping down in a chair next to her. “Your lessons, silly! We’re here to give you your friendship lesson!”

The other girl snorted. “Forget it,” she snapped. “I flunked friendship.”

“I flunked algebra twice,” Cheese pointed out, taking the chair opposite Pinkie, spinning it around, and straddling it so that he was facing the chair back. “I finally passed it, so the good news is that I never have to do anything with algebra ever again!” He frowned. “Wait, no. That doesn’t work so well with friendship, does it? Doesn’t matter,” he said, shrugging. “The point is not to give up.”

“I just wanted to know something she didn’t know,” said Sunset. “And I didn’t learn anything about your magic.”

“Aw, don’t feel bad about it, Sunnyshutter,” said Pinkie. “We don’t understand it either.”

Sunset Shimmer shook her head. “Fluttershy was right. I did try to make you into my test subjects, and I failed at that, too.”

Pinkie cocked her head to one side. “Because instead, you wanted us to be your friends?”

Sunset bit her lips and looked straight up at the ceiling, eyes blinking very fast. She made a very tense, very fast little nod.

“D’awww!” said Pinkie, leaning over and giving her a hug. “You should have said so, silly! We like having lots and lots of friends.” She frowned. “Anyway, I do,” she corrected herself. “Cheesie’s not that good at friendship himself, but he’s working on it.”

Cheese leaned back in his chair and pulled at it, tilting it backwards. “Huh. You said something about us being portals and wanting a stable portal. Why?”

“I don’t want to talk about it,” she said. “It drives me crazy knowing that she’s probably on the other side, working on the same thing, but for some reason, it’s ok when she does it.”

“Who’s ‘she?’” said Cheese, glancing over at Pinkie.

“Twilight Sparkle,” she replied. “She’s not the only good student Celestia’s ever had. I mean MY Celestia,” she added, noticing Pinkie and Cheese’s puzzled looks. “The REAL one. I need her to know that! I mean, we can’t all be princesses, and I’m not sure I want to be one anymore. I’m beginning to think it’s an awful job, having to deal with other po . . . people all the time.”

She stood up and walked around each of her mirrors, picking up the small ones, glancing in them, and then placing them back. “I’ve given up on the idea of going home,” she said. “It’s never going to happen. There’s never going to be a door, but I’d settle for a window. If I could just catch a glimpse of something—something outside the Canterlot Library. I spent so much time in that library, and I spend so much time in this one. Just a peek, just for a moment!”

“This is making you really sad, isn’t it?” said Pinkie. “I don’t like it that you’re sad. What do I have to do to make you smile?”

Sunset turned around, very, very slowly.

“Look in my mirror,” she said. “Just one more time.”

“Okey-dokey-lokey!” said Pinkie, jumping to her feet. “See? That wasn’t hard. Will it make you smile this time?”

“Maybe,” said Sunset. “It’s this one,” she said, indicating the mirror Pinkie had looked into before.
Cheese looked around at all the mirrors, as though registering something for the first time.

“You’ve rearranged these, haven’t you?” he asked, looking along some of the sightlines. “If Pinkie looks in that one, she’s going to see . . .”

“An infinite number of Pinkies? Possibly. Now shush. Don’t listen to him, Pinkie. Just look into the mirror and tell me exactly what you see.”

Pinkie looked down into the mirror. “Same as last time,” she said. “Just me. Just Pinkie.”

Sunset slumped. “I failed,” she said, leaning her head against a bookcase.

“Wow, I’m really shaking my hoof thing!”

The other girl gasped and stood upright so suddenly that she hit her head on a shelf. “Hooves?”

“Yepsidoodle!” said Pinkie. “You asked if I saw me, and I said I see me, and me is a little pink horse. Didn’t I mention that last time?”

Sunset grabbed Cheese and dragged him over to the mirror.

“Hey!” he protested. “I thought I was your friend and not your test subject!”

“You can be both,” she snapped. “Shut up, stand behind Pinkie, and look in.” She pushed him towards the mirror.

“Look at me go!” said Pinkie happily. “I wish I could bounce like that. And hey, me has a box of cupcakes on her head! And—ooo, look, Cheesie! See? There you are!”

Cheese bent down so that his head was level with Pinkie’s, and gazed into the mirror. Finally he said, “I need a hat like that.”

“I’m late late late late!” sang Pinkie, as she grabbed a few more supplies and tied some blue and yellow ribbons into her hair. “Laaaaate,” she sang, as she slid down the banister, three twisting floors to the ground level, which was the Cake’s kitchen. She grabbed a box of cupcakes placed on the counter, and turned to Mr. Cake, who was sitting at the kitchen table. “I’m ready!”

Mr. Cake nursed a cup of coffee. Back here, in his own kitchen, he didn’t drink the elaborate lattes and cappuccinos served in the coffeehouse. He drank plain coffee, very simple and very strong. “I’m sorry, Pinkie,” he said, turning around in his chair. “I can’t drive you to the game after all. I just went outside, and the truck won’t start at all. It won’t even turn over. I’m waiting for the tow truck right now.”

“Oh, no, that’s awful! And you had all those deliveries to make, too! How are you going to get the wedding cake to that reception?”

Mr. Cake’s eyes bugged out with dawning realization, and he sprang to his feet, throwing his hat on the table. “Cup Cake!” he called, with an edge of panic in his voice. “We’ve got a big problem here!”

“Don’t you worry, Mr. Cake!” said Pinkie. “I can just take my bike. It won’t take that much longer. ‘Bye! Good luck with the truck!”

She bounced down the stairs and raced to where her bike was parked. It was glittery pink, with a big white basket, laced through with multicolored ribbons that streamed out behind her like a rocket trail when she sped through the streets of Canterlot, pinging the bell. She’d already placed the box of cupcakes on the rack on the rear wheel when she noticed that both tires had been slashed. She gasped.

“Now what kind of meanie would ever . . .” Another bike shot by. Its rider grabbed the box of cupcakes and sped off. “HEY!”

“Where’s Pinkie?” said Rainbow Dash. “The game’s gonna start in ten minutes!”

The Comets were getting ready for their final match against the Cyclones. They tapped bats against their cleats, slammed their hands into their gloves. Over next to the batting cage, Scootaloo stretched, bending to each side, pulling her arms in towards her chest, and lunging, grimacing once as her right leg hit something uncomfortable. Her friends, Sweetie Belle and Apple Bloom, stood on the other side of the wire fence and gave her a pep talk.

“You’re gonna do great, Scootaloo!” said Apple Bloom.

“Yeah, I better,” said Scootaloo. “Rainbow Dash has me playing shortstop, and I don’t wanna let her down. And she’s got me batting fourth. No pressure.”

“Well, it’s only fourth place,” said Sweetie Belle. “I mean, it’s not like you’re in first place or anything.”

“Gah!” exclaimed Scootaloo, as she hung upside down, letting her back stretch out. Her impatient snort sounded very much like a junior version of her idol’s. “Fourth’s cleanup! Fourth is a big deal! Fourth is—never mind. I’ll see you guys after the game if I’m still alive, because I’m gonna win this thing or die trying.”

Sweetie Belle and Apple Bloom looked at each other and then back at Scootaloo. “Well, anyway . . .” Sweetie Belle said, “good luck!”

“Come on, you two,” said Applejack, gesturing to them to join her and Rarity. “Time to get our seats if you want good ones. That goes double for you, Rarity,” she added, addressing her friend, who was making some last minute adjustments to her appearance.

“Just a soupçon more tinted sunscreen,” Rarity said. “Really, Applejack, one should always wear sunscreen—and a slight tweak to the scarf and some SPF lipstick. And no, I do not want to linger near the dugout. It’s so dusty down here. Are you joining us, Fluttershy?”

“Oh, yes. In a moment,” replied Fluttershy, pushing a lock of hair out of her face. “I’m just waiting for Pinkie with Rainbow. I’ll come up as soon as she gets here.”

“Now, I’m sure you’re just worried over nothing, RD,” said Applejack, striding over to Rainbow Dash and slapping her on the back. “Pinkie’ll be here any minute; see if she isn’t.” She dropped her voice. “And if she isn’t here by the bottom of the first inning, I’ll take the truck and go looking for her myself, and Rarity can look after the kids.” She turned around and followed Rarity and their sisters up to the stands.

The crowd of parents and well-wishers were settling in. The Cloudsdale side was a solid mass of team colors. Evidently, they really believed in showing their team support visually. On the Canterlot side, the picnic lunches were already coming out, as though it were a picnic at which there happened to be a baseball game, and not the other way around. The attitude was one of resigned cheerfulness, and some of the fathers might as well have been wearing T shirts inscribed with “Wait’ll Next Year.” Rainbow Dash wheeled around to glare at them.

“What’s wrong with them? This is for the title. It’s not as though we lost all season.”

“Oh, I know, Rainbow,” Fluttershy said. “It’s not your fault that Cloudsdale’s so competitive this year, or that the Comets fans became so demoralized after that last awful game that they think you can’t possibly win.” From the Cloudsdale dugout, Lightning Dust gave a friendly wave.

Rainbow Dash spun around so that the team couldn’t see her and drew her hands down her cheeks, pulling the skin so that the whites of her eyes showed.

“Agh, we’re going to lose, aren’t we? And I practically promised Scootaloo I’d take her to Cowperstown,” Dash lamented. “Big dumb me, I just had to get her hopes up for a crack at the nationals. But no, we’re gonna get slammed, and it’ll be my fault, and she’s going to know I suck.”

Cheese came up behind them. “Has anyone seen Pinkie?” he said, standing on one leg.

“Bad timing, Cheese,” murmured Fluttershy.

“No!” Rainbow Dash shot back. “And the last time she wasn’t at a game, it was because she was in the hospital.”

“That doesn’t mean she’s in the hospital now, Rainbow,” Fluttershy pointed out. “It just means she’s late.”

“I know,” the other girl muttered, dragging her foot in the dirt. “But—I just have this sick feeling inside about it. Something doesn’t feel right.”

Cheese nodded. “I know exactly what you mean,” he agreed, as he pulled a Canterlot Comets hat from nowhere. “No, I don’t feel great about it, either. But Pinkie read me the riot act about how she hated it when people were overprotective, and that she could take care of herself, so—I’m just going to hope she’s right about that. And there’s nothing you can do, and you’ve got a game to win. We can utterly freak out about it afterwards. In fact, I’ll join you.”

“I’d still feel better if she were here,” Dash muttered. “She could warm up that crowd. Their attitude is dragging the team down. And she’s right. I do feel better when she’s screaming for me.”

Cheese stood still for a moment, as though he were taking in the crowd’s reactions, the team’s anxiety, and Rainbow Dash’s worry. “I’ll do it,” he said. “I’m not Pinkie, and it won’t be the same, but it’s better than nothing.”

“It won’t be as good,” Rainbow Dash muttered.

Fluttershy gasped. “Rainbow!”

“No,” said Cheese, shaking his head. “It’s not going to be the same. But it’s going to be epic.” He opened his hands and gave his accordion a short practice squeeze or two, and then trotted off towards the Canterlot side of the bleachers, draped in Canterlot colors. “All right, Canterlot!” he yelled. “Who’s ready to see some awesome ball?”

As he reeled off an impromptu polka weaving in the names of the Comets players, the crowd began clapping their hands in time with the music, and Dash slowly straightened up. “Yeah,” she said. “He’s right. We do have a game to win.” She whirled around and jogged over to her team. “Listen up, squirts!” she yelled. “That crowd knows every single one of your names because you’re heroes, right? Because you’re awesome! Right?” The Comets muttered. “You speak up when your coach is talking! I said, you’re awesome, rrrright?”

“Yes, Rainbow Dash!”

“And you’re gonna get out there and show Cloudsdale what you’re made of, you hear? Hands in!” She held her arm out at full length. The players slammed their hands down on top of hers, one by one, then pulled them back up with a long, loud whoop. They moved out into their places on the field, and Rainbow Dash smiled.

“Y’know,” she said to Fluttershy, settling into the dugout, “I wouldn’t have thought polka music would perk a crowd up so much, but whatever works, right? Hey,” she added, frowning, “you aren’t supposed to be down here.”

“I’m sorry,” murmured Fluttershy. “Did you notice that . . .”

“Well, if you’re gonna stay,” Dash went on, “at least put on one of these helmets. “Regulations.” She slapped a protective helmet on Fluttershy and yanked the chin strap tight.

“GO COMETS!” a tenor voice yelled out near the stands. Rainbow Dash chuckled.

“I’m used to hearing that a couple of octaves higher,” she said, leaning on the barrier, “but it’ll do for now.”

“Um, did you notice,” Fluttershy murmured, “Cheese wasn’t carrying his accordion when he . . .” But she couldn’t make herself heard over the crowd, and quickly gave up.

The game started, with the Cyclones at bat and the Comets in the field. The first two Cloudsdale players managed neat little bunts that left two players on base.

“They’re good,” Dash muttered. “Should’ve expected that, with Dusty coaching them. It’s gonna be a rough afternoon.” She glanced down for a moment, and then jerked her head up suddenly as a great roar came from the Canterlot side of the bleachers. “What happened?”

“Um—Scootaloo did this thing. What’s it called when you throw the ball and get two people out at once?”

“A double play!” screamed Rainbow Dash. “Scoots pulled off a double play? That’s it. I’m not looking away for a second.” She didn’t have much of an opportunity, anyway, as Cloudsdale quickly got its third out, and the sides switched. They both stepped out of the dugout for a brief rest.

Applejack walked up. “That happened quicker’n I thought,” she said, “but I’m headin’ out to find Pinkie. What the—?”

A pink dot appeared on the horizon, followed by a streak of pink, zig-zagging like a lightning bolt towards the baseball field. Pinkie appeared, puffing with effort, curls damp with exertion, and carrying a box of cupcakes.

“Aw, geez, I’m late, Dashie! I’m so sorry!” She handed the box of cupcakes to Fluttershy and sat down.

“What happened?” asked Fluttershy. “You look tired.”

“Am I ever!” exclaimed Pinkie. “I had a teeny bit of trouble getting here. See, first Mr. Cake’s truck wouldn’t start, which was a huge bummer for him, and then my bike’s tires were slashed, which was a huge bummer for me, and then out of nowhere, someone comes and grabs my cupcakes!”

“No!” gasped Fluttershy.

“So I got my cupcakes . . . ” Pinkie continued.

“Wait,” said Rainbow Dash. “I thought you said someone stole your cupcakes.”

“They did,” replied Pinkie, nodding, “but these were some other cupcakes. Anyway, just then, a man drove up in a car and asked if I needed a ride, which I guess sounded like a nice thing to do.”

“Oh, Pinkie, you didn’t,” murmured Fluttershy.

“You’re right. I didn’t. I didn’t think he looked like a nice person and everyone’s always told me to say ‘no’ when someone asks that, so I said ‘no’ very nicely and then he got out of the car and tried to grab me.”

“What?” shrieked Rainbow Dash.

“So I kicked him,” Pinkie went on blithely, as though Rainbow Dash hadn’t said a thing, “and he lay down on the ground and rolled around a lot and I just ran.”

“You ran a couple of miles holding some cupcakes in your arms? Wasn’t that awkward?”

“Oh, no,” said Pinkie. “I had them on my head. It was this great idea I got somewhere. Anyhoo, that’s why I’m late. I’m sorry I couldn’t scream for you.”

“Actually,” Rainbow Dash admitted, “Cheese Sandwich stepped in to do it for you.”

“Oh?” said Pinkie, knitting her brows. Cheese raced up with an audible screech of brakes.

“Pinkie!” he exclaimed. “Come on! They want you out there!”

“You seem to be doing fine without me,” she sniffed.

“Not without you. It’s you they really want,” he insisted, holding out his hand, adding, as he followed her, “I know you told me I’m not allowed to worry about you, but I was really worried anyway. Sorry.”

The game ended in a 9-1 victory for the Comets, and Scootaloo, First Base, and the others raced for their coach, slapping hands and high-fiving. Everyone had a celebratory cupcake before hitting the showers.

“Yum!” said Sweetie Belle. “Thanks, Pinkie! These are much nicer than the free ones they were giving away up there!”

“Huh?” said Pinkie. “What free cupcakes?”

“Oh, some guys with trays,” Apple Bloom said through a mouthful of cupcake. “They weren’t real nice, but they were free, so we tried ‘em.”

“That was very odd,” said Rarity, “and very concerning, although I fail to see why anyone should think giving away substandard cupcakes made any sense.”

Lightning Dust walked up to Rainbow Dash, hand outstretched. The Comets clustered around their coach.

“The best team won,” said Lightning Dust, shaking Rainbow Dash’s hand, and looked around at the Comets. “You guys did great. Impressive win. You should be really proud of yourselves and your coach, too.”

Scootaloo took off her cap and ran her hand through her magenta hair. “Yeah? Well, I think Rainbow Dash is all kinds of awesome anyway, win or lose. And so are we.”

Lightning Dust’s eye traveled from Scootaloo’s head, to Pinkie’s, to Fluttershy’s. “Uh-huh,” she said. “Well, that’s good, but don’t knock winning. It matters.”

Pinkie looked over at the Cloudsdale dugout. They were looking at their coach. Some sat slumped on benches, some had thrown their hats on the ground, and two of the players were actually crying. “Aw,” she said. “They’re just kids. Come on, Cheesie!” she said, and they raced across the field, yelling, “Gimme a C! Gimme an L!”

“Huh,” said Lightning Dust. “I didn’t realize you had backup. Anyway, I’m not going to hold up your victory celebration. See you tomorrow, Dash.”

Fluttershy stared after Dusty. Rarity was at her side in a moment and placed her arm around her. “I think good manners apply in winning or losing, don’t you? It’s all about being gracious, isn’t it, Sweetie Belle, and you are about to get chocolate on that blouse, which will not come out, so be careful.”

“Well, you guys oughta be proud of yourselves for the whole season,” announced Applejack, “and we’ve got an end of season party over at Sweet Apple Acres, so you clean yourselves up and head on out for some hand-cranked ice cream!”

“YAY!” yelled the Comets, and bolted for the showers.

It took a little while to get cleaned up, but shortly the cars began pulling out of the lot one by one, headed for Sweet Apple Acres. Cheese put away his accordion, even though the task shouldn’t have taken as long as it did, and then took it out to where Pinkie was standing on the field in the late afternoon sun.

“That was pretty awesome, Cheesie,” she burbled, swinging around and hugging herself. “Is that the first time we’ve done something together like that?”

“Yeah,” said Cheese, smiling and beginning to juggle one-handed. “I think it is.”

“I loved it! I wish we could do that all the time!”

“Me too,” agreed Cheese, allowing the balls to roll up his sleeve again, and casually blowing some flame.

“Do you think we could? The Wondercolts are playing tomorrow. It’s the last game of the playoffs, and I know Dashie would really like to win, so . . .”

“Well . . . maybe,” said Cheese. “Hey!” he added, as Pinkie squeaked, jumped up, and gave him a giant hug. “I said maybe!”

“Oh, that would be absotootly-lutely super-fantastic!” she said, bouncing back to the ground, and added, “um . . . Cheesie? I . . . um, I just wanted to say something.”

Cheese froze. “Yes?”

“Well . . . I’m so glad you’ve been trying to help me with the accident and everything. And I guess we’re a lot alike. . .”

“Yes?”

“Because we’ve got the same thing wrong with us. And I guess that’s why we’re friends.”

Applejack walked onto the field. “Pinkie? You comin’? Cause we’re about to leave.”

“Ok!” she called back. “Anyway, thanks for everything,” she said, and hugged him. “’Bye,” and she ran off the field.

Cheese stood there on the field for what seemed like a very long time, and then dropped his head into his hands. “Oh, no, no, no, no,” he groaned. “This is so messed up.”

Author's Notes:

I’ve really had to start reaching for those cupcake flavors! There are much weirder ones than those I’ve mentioned, but for some reason, I shy away from bacon and fried chicken in pony fanfic, even in EG pony fanfic.

The scene at Sugarcube’s was inspired by this picture:

http://pasikon86.tumblr.com/post/96716389406

I’d use it as a cover picture in a nanosecond, only the author, Pasikon, says he or she can’t reply because of not speaking English, and I don’t like to use things without permission. I still may ask, though, because I love that picture.

Baseball fans are probably having a good laugh at me, although I’ve checked as much as I could. Still, I’ve got a soft spot for what’s been called the American national pastime, and I know everything there is to know about pre-resignation to defeat, since when I follow baseball, I am a Cubs fan. When Cubs fans sing “Take Me Out To The Ball Game,” the lyrics go, “So it’s root, root, root for the Cubbies, / If they don’t win, it’s the same.”

I’m working as quickly as possible to get this done before Rainbow Rocks, although my other responsibilities are sliding in, too. The big finish chapter is coming next, with a sort of sub-chapter, and then a tiny coda. When we see you next, it will be at the actual Cake Festival!