Silver Spoon stared skeptically at the drawing that Scootaloo had just placed in front of her. It was in a graph paper notebook she had retrieved from her bedside table drawer. The notebook itself was full of figures and sketches, numbers and various equations written in ink and pencil, some scratched out completely, others simply modified and corrected. The contents of the sketchbook all pointed towards one overarching theme, rendering her initial question at least partly rhetorical. "What is this, exactly?"

"It's an aerodyne," Scootaloo explained unhelpfully.

"A...what?"

"An aerodyne," the pegasus repeated matter-of-factly. "You know, as opposed to an aerostat?" Her face indicated she considered this a perfectly suitable clarification.

"Okay," Silver Spoon said, rolling her eyes, "let's pretend I don't know anything about aeronauticals or whatever it is you spend your free time obsessing over."

Scootaloo frowned at her and sighed in exasperation. "Alright, well...I guess I'll start with the basics, then. In aeronautics," she emphasized the final syllable with a sneer, "there are two kinds of aircraft. Aerostats are lighter-than-air craft, like hot air balloons and the big helium airships that you see flying out of Canterlot from time to time. They're really popular among earth ponies and unicorns because they're pretty easy to make and learn how to use.

"Aerodynes, on the other hoof, are kind of rare because they're a lot harder to design, make, and use. This is an aerodyne," she said, pointing at the drawing. "See, unlike an aerostat, which just has to achieve positive buoyancy to fly, an aerodyne has to provide its own lift, either by aerodynamic lift, that is, the lift provided by the deflection force of a tilted wing, or by powered lift, like when a pegasus flaps their wings." She mimicked the action with her own wings, as if expecting this to elucidate her point. "Anyway, you can't just launch an aerodyne and expect it to fly, because they don't usually generate enough lift on their own. You have to give it some sort of propulsion, and...what?" Scootaloo interrupted herself and raised an eyebrow at Silver Spoon. "Why are you looking at me like that?"

Silver Spoon blinked at her with wide, utterly bewildered eyes. "Um...yeah, you lost me at 'aerostats.'" Scootaloo groaned and slapped a hoof across her forehead, slowly drawing it down her face and sighing. Irked and embarrassed, Silver Spoon narrowed her eyes at the pegasus, annoyed at the heat rising in her cheeks as she flushed with frustration. "Well, come on, Scootaloo! I'm not as smart as you are, okay? This stuff doesn't just come to me like it does to you, alright? If you want me to help you, you're going to have to help me understand!"

"Well, you could at least make an effort!" Scootaloo huffed.

Incensed, Silver Spoon snapped, "Don't you think I am? You think I like feeling stupid all the time? You think I like watching you and Tiara just breezing through every subject while I'm just staring at my books and trying to...to...I don't know, will myself into learning it?" The blush on her face intensified, the heat there not quite masking the burning of frustrated tears collecting in her eyes. She blinked a few times, resisting the urge to raise a hoof and wipe them away before they could fall, furious at herself for letting Scootaloo get her so worked up.

The pegasus tilted her head, eyes wide and bemused. "Are you...crying?"

"No!" Silver Spoon lied furiously, looking away and willing herself to calm down. The lump in her throat was not yet substantial enough to alter her speaking voice, so she swallowed hard and continued, trying to keep her voice even and controlled. "Look, about this project. I think it...it might be a little too...hard for me." As often as she had to admit to Miss Cheerilee, Diamond Tiara, and Carillon that she was simply incapable of completing an assignment or mastering a subject, it never got easier, and admitting it to Scootaloo, the bane of her academic life, was torture. It had to be done, though, or she might accidentally get herself into a project she couldn't possibly contribute to, and end up unintentionally torching both of their grades. "I'm sorry..." she muttered, looking at the floor and rubbing her foreleg shamefully.

There was a long, awkward silence undercut by a tranquil, solemn melody emanating from Octavia's study down the hall. Eventually, Scootaloo broke the tension and said, "No, it's not...I mean yeah, it's tough, but..." She sighed. "Look, I'm sorry, I didn't mean it that way."

"Yes you did," Silver Spoon groused. "You think I'm stupid. Everyone does. It's not like I can blame you, right?" She sniffed and frowned. "I mean, you've seen my scores, right?"

"Well, yeah, but...I mean, no, I don't think you're stupid," Scootaloo said.

Silver Spoon sighed. "Really? You're going to look me in the eye and lie to me like that? I'm not that oblivious, Scootaloo. I know what you and your friends say about me, because not everyone bothers to do it behind my back." Scootaloo looked away as she continued, her voice heavy with cynicism. "Not to mention all the hell you three give me in class all the time, the way you laugh with each other when I ask questions or get problems on the board wrong..." The tears had broken free now, rolling slowly down her cheeks. She didn't even bother to wipe them away. "I don't care if you want to make fun of me or whatever. I gave up trying to stop that years ago. Just don't patronize me."

To her surprise, Scootaloo actually let out a short barking laugh. "Alright then, I won't. But I'm not going to make fun of you, either. Look, I really want to do this project, and I think you could help a lot."

Silver Spoon raised a skeptical eyebrow at her. "Really?"

The pegasus nodded. "Sure. And it's not as hard as it sounds, honestly. If you really want to learn about this stuff, I don't mind helping you out, as long as you can forgive me for losing my patience sometimes, because I promise you it's going to happen." She smirked wryly. "I am still a pegasus, after all."

Silver Spoon smiled slightly, raising a hoof to wipe away the tears still clinging to her fur. "Yeah...yeah, okay." She paused and then added, "You really think you can teach me this stuff?"

Scootaloo snorted. "Of course. It's just math. You don't even have to understand why it works, unless you really want to."

"Well...maybe," Silver Spoon said. "I mean, looking at all of this is kind of, I don't know...daunting."

"Nah," Scootaloo said, shaking her head. "It's just a lot to look at all at once. Here, let's start with the basics." She went to her desk and grabbed a well-worn book from the shelf, bringing it over to where Silver Spoon was sitting and dropping it in front of her.

Silver Spoon read the cover aloud. "Fun-gineering: A Fun and Friendly Introduction to Engineering Math." She gave Scootaloo a skeptical look. "Really?"

Scootaloo had returned to her desk and opened a drawer, rummaging around in it for a something. Having found it, she was now walking back over to Silver Spoon with a mouth full of paper, pencils, and a surprisingly simple calculator. "Ignore the title. It's actually a pretty good book. It was a birthday present from my parents after I started talking about wanting to be an aerospace engineer."

"Aerospace?"

The pegasus nodded again. "Sure. You know, air--"

"Scootaloo," Silver Spoon interrupted her. "I know that you know all this stuff, but it is a little insulting how you keep saying 'you know' all the time. You know?" she added with a hint of sarcasm.

"Sorry, it's just habit," Scootaloo said. "Anyway, aerospace just means related to mechanical flight, and could be anything from hot air balloons and gliders all the way up to rockets and space stations."

"Sounds...really hard," Silver Spoon muttered.

"Only if you try to start with Tsiolcoltsky's rocket equation. We won't, though. We'll start with whatever math you're comfortable with and go from there. How are you with trig?"

"Um..." Silver Spoon blushed.

Scootaloo waved a hoof dismissively. "Never mind. We'll start with geometry, then."

The blush intensified. "Well, uh..."

Scootaloo's eyes widened slightly, but she shrugged. "Alright, algebra. We'll see how far we can get from there."

Silver Spoon smiled sheepishly. "Alright."

"So," Scootaloo said around her pencil as she finished scribbling a series of equations on the paper in front of her, "that's pretty simple, right? What I just wrote?"

Silver Spoon looked at the equation and nodded. "9 + 16 = 25. Sure."

"And if I rewrite it like this, it still makes sense, right?" Scootaloo wrote a second equation--"3² + 4² = 5²"--underneath it. Silver Spoon nodded, oddly enthralled as she wondered where Scootaloo could possibly be going with this obviously simplistic line of reasoning.

"Now, let's take those numbers and use them to draw a triangle." She did so, using a ruler to measure the sides and pausing to let Silver Spoon verify that each side was the correct length. "As you can see, this triangle has one angle of 90 degrees, making it a right triangle. As it happens," she continued, "this is true for any three numbers that fit that equation up there." She wrote a few more equations and drew their corresponding triangles as proof. "Now let's replace those numbers with simple variables--say, 'a', 'b', and 'c'--and there you have the Ponythagorean theorem." She smiled at Silver Spoon.

The silver earth pony stared at the equation, genuinely surprised. She remembered hearing Miss Cheerilee mention the Ponythagorean theorem some time ago, but she had just written it on the board and told them it would be crucial for them to memorize it. She hadn't explained how it worked or even showed any proof, as Scootaloo had just done. She certainly hadn't started with functions and variables and seamlessly slid into using those same functions to describe geometric shapes, nonchalantly replacing actual numbers with variables when she wanted to draw Silver Spoon's attention to an actual formula or theorem.

Scootaloo had done all of this, and as a result, Silver Spoon was stunned to realize she hadn't gotten lost yet today. They'd covered a lot, she knew, starting with basic polynomials and the quadratic equation, both of which Silver Spoon vaguely understood, and after Scootaloo explained them again, bringing blinking revelation to Silver Spoon's eyes, they'd simply breezed through the rest of the material, bringing them now to the beginning of trigonometry.

"Huh," Silver Spoon said, "I...I get it." She stared at Scootaloo, stunned. "I can't believe it. Whenever Miss Cheerilee tries to explain this stuff, I just get lost and confused. I just write it all down at try to figure it out later. Of course, that never works," she grumbled, "and then I have to ask Tiara for help, but you know how Tiara is. She'd just rather do it for me so we can go do whatever it is she wants to do."

Scootaloo grinned. "Like I said, it's not that hard. You just have to have somewhere to start. You seem like you understand numbers okay, so that's where I started."

Silver Spoon nodded. "I just get lost when you start with nothing but letters and weird symbols. It's nice to have some kind of actual numbers to work with first."

Scootaloo was about to respond when her ears suddenly pricked backwards and she turned to look at the door. Silver Spoon raised an eyebrow at her, as she hadn't heard anything, but a second later the door rattled as somepony knocked on the other side. "Scootaloo?" Octavia's voice came from the hallway beyond. "Do you have a moment?"

"Sure, mom," Scootaloo responded. The door swung open and Octavia stepped into the room.

"I'm glad to see you two are getting along okay." She smiled warmly. "I must admit I was concerned..." She trailed off and waved a dismissive hoof. "Well, anyway, supper is almost ready, so please tidy up and wash your hooves."

"Supper?" Scootaloo's eyes widened as she looked at the clock on her desk. "Buck! It's already seven?"

"Language, Scootaloo," Octavia scolded her, "and yes, it is. Silver Spoon, I hope you don't mind, but I went ahead and made a portion for you, as well. You don't have to stay if you don't want, but you're certainly welcome to." She beamed at the silver filly, who smiled back sheepishly.

"Thank you, Miss Philharmonica, but I don't think my parents would like that very much."

Octavia's face fell slightly. "That's unfortunate. Did they expect you home sooner than this?"

"Oh, well..." Silver Spoon blushed faintly. "They aren't really expecting me home any particular time. They just don't really like it when I stay out late."

The earth pony shrugged. "Well, we can certainly understand that. Still, if it's simply a matter of information, Vinyl can send them a message to let them know you're here safe and sound. We can even hire a taxi to get you home if they like."

"Oh, no, that wouldn't be necessary," Silver Spoon said, shaking her head. She hesitated for a moment before asking, "You really wouldn't mind if I stayed for supper?"

"Not at all!" Octavia exclaimed, grinning. She ignored Scootaloo's miffed expression and said, "You've been working hard all afternoon; it would be a shame to send you home hungry after all of that. I suppose you live at the Silver estate on Levade Lane, right?" Silver Spoon nodded affirmatively and Octavia said, "Wonderful. I'll have Vinyl send them a message right away. Does your family employ a messenger, might I ask?"

Silver Spoon nodded again. "Yes, ma'am."

"Very well. Supper will be served shortly. Please wash up and come to the dining room." She clopped back down the hallway, calling Vinyl's name as she did.

Scootaloo sighed heavily and looked at Silver Spoon. "Sorry about that. My mom can be kinda pushy about guests. You really don't have to stay if you don't want to."

The silver filly smiled and shrugged. "It's fine. She wasn't being pushy, just polite. Besides, I doubt my father will let me stay anyway."

"Really? That's too bad. Why?"

Silver Spoon sighed. "It's hard to explain...and besides, I thought you didn't want me to stay for supper anyway." She smirked at the pegasus.

Scootaloo made a noncommittal sound in her throat. "Yeah, well...maybe you're not as bad as I thought you were going to be."

The silver filly giggled. "Thanks, I think. Anyway, the feeling is mutual, I suppose." She paused. "To be perfectly honest with you...I wasn't sure you would be able to be civil."

"That makes two of us," Scootaloo admitted, grinning.

Silver Spoon blinked in surprise as she came face to face with the blazing crimson eyes and startlingly blue mane of Scootaloo's mother Vinyl Scratch. The unicorn was holding a small scrap of parchment in a translucent aquamarine aura through which she could easily read the neat, measured script of the unicorn her family employed specifically for the purpose of sending messages via magical means. She could scarcely believe the note's contents, even as Vinyl summarized them in a brief quip. "He says it's cool."

"Huh," Silver Spoon said, nonplussed. "Alright then."

"Wonderful!" Octavia beamed, gesturing towards the dining room. "Come along now. Vinyl, would you be a dear and get dinner for us?"

Silver Spoon followed Octavia and Scootaloo into a brightly lit room with windows facing the darkening street in front of the house. Dominating the room was an oval-shaped wooden dining table with a narrow vase in the middle holding three young carnations--one white, one pink, and one purple--which Octavia carefully repositioned to an end table before taking her place at one of the narrower sides of the dining table. Scootaloo sat at one of the longer edges and nodded to Silver Spoon, indicating she take the opposite. A moment later, Vinyl's magical aura surrounded and opened the kitchen door and the unicorn stepped carefully into the room, a large, full platter of food hovering behind her as she took her place at the only spot remaining at the table and set the platter down in the middle.

"Thank you, Vinyl," Octavia said. Then she looked over at Silver Spoon. "I hope you don't mind, dear, but we do have something of a daily routine that we follow at dinner time. You don't have to participate, of course, but you're welcome to if you want."

Now it was Silver Spoon's turn to ignore Scootaloo's irritated expression. "What sort of routine?"

Octavia turned to her daughter. "Scootaloo?"

"Mo-om!" the pegasus whined pitifully. "Do I have to?"

"Every night, Scootaloo. Just like we always have."

"Fine." Scootaloo sighed theatrically and looked down at the table. "I...I'm thankful for my home and my family...oh, and for the new book that Mama Vy got me yesterday." Her cheeks slowly reddened beneath her orange fur.

Octavia smiled. "A lovely sentiment, dear. And what's something you learned today?"

"Um...that the First Changeling War lasted seven years and only ended because the Crystal Princess sacrificed herself to seal King Sombra away after he stole the Crystal Heart from the palace."

"Interesting," the grey mare said, nodding thoughtfully. "Thank you, Scootaloo. Vinyl?"

The ivory unicorn ceased magically folding her napkin into a swan long enough to say, "I'm exceedingly thankful for my loving, tolerant mate and my brilliant, strong-willed daughter, and I've learned that dry newspaper is not a sufficient substitute for a wet blanket for putting out small fires."

"Indeed," Octavia intoned dryly. "Anyway, I'm thankful for my darling, frustrating, but ultimately wonderful mate and my beautiful, intelligent daughter, and I've learned not to leave lit candles unattended in the living room when Vinyl is playing her dancing game--"

"Prance Prance Revolution."

"--of course, dear," she said, more or less ignoring Vinyl's moderately indignant interjection. "So," she said brightly, turning to Silver Spoon, "that's basically it. Something we're thankful for and something we learned. A little sappy, perhaps, but it's important to keep things in perspective, I think. Always remember to be glad for what you have, and never stop learning."

Silver Spoon stared at her. "And you do this every night?"

"Every night we eat together, yes. We don't always get to have dinner as a family, but when we do, we try to make sure we remember to, as Scootaloo once called it, 'Think and Thank'." She grinned over at her daughter, who was groaning loudly and putting her face in her hooves, her cheeks flushed red with mortification.

"'Think and Thank'?" Silver Spoon asked, giggling.

Vinyl nodded. "To be fair, she was still just a filly, but it kinda stuck. It's appropriate, if a little embarrassing, right Scoot?"

"I'm not talking to either of you ever again," the orange pegasus muttered through her hooves.

Silver Spoon giggled again. "Well, I guess I might as well. Um...I'm thankful that Scootaloo decided to actually treat me like a partner on this project, instead of a handicap," she chanced a small smile across the table as Scootaloo raised her head enough to cast a curious glance her way, "and I learned...gosh, a lot. Algebra, geometry...I guess I'll just say I learned about the Ponythagorean theorem and leave it at that."

"Well, sounds like you guys had a heck of an afternoon," Vinyl said as she immediately began doling out portions of the food from the platter onto each pony's plate.

Silver Spoon nodded, watching the unicorn deposit a sizable helping of candied carrots, salted mushroom-and-romaine salad, and sweet potatoes au gratin onto her setting. "You could say that, I guess."

"Well," Octavia said, "as I mentioned earlier, I'm glad to see you working together so well." She turned to Scootaloo. "Have you decided what to do your project on?"

"Um...yeah, I think so," Scootaloo replied, tossing a carrot into her mouth and chewing thoughtfully. "Might be a long shot, but Miss Cheerilee says she thinks we can do it if we work together."

"Do what?"

"We could...maybe...well, you know that aerodyne I've been designing since forever?"

"The Dash?" Vinyl asked through a mouthful of lettuce.

Scootaloo nodded. "Miss Cheerilee thinks we can build it."

"That will be quite the undertaking," Octavia said. "And quite the challenge, I would imagine."

The pegasus shrugged. "Probably. Anyway, the only real issue was getting the parts, and since Spoon's a metalworker, I think we've got a good chance."

"Oh she is, is she?" Octavia asked, glancing at Silver Spoon.

The filly nodded. "Yeah...I got my cutie mark just playing with some of my father's tools and working some scrap metal into toys and jewelry while I waited for him to get off work when I was younger. It's just a hobby right now, but I've gotten pretty good, I think. Anyway, Scootaloo just asked me if I could make gears and things like that, and honestly, compared to filigree necklaces and chain-linked tail-rings, sprockets are foals' play."

"Even super-high-precision ones?" Scootaloo asked, raising an eyebrow.

Silver Spoon snorted. "Compared to plaiting quarter-millimeter filigree? Yeah."

Vinyl giggled. "Sounds like you guys are all set, then."

"We'll see," Silver Spoon said, shrugging. "It depends on how much math and engineering and such I have to learn first."

"Not much," Scootaloo said, tentatively poking at the sweet potatoes. "Most of the math's already done. Just need to focus on the fabrication and construction now."

Silver Spoon shook her head. "I still don't see how you understand all that stuff. Every time I see an equation with letters and numbers, I just get dizzy. I can't imagine trying to understand an equation with letters, numbers, and other weird symbols, too."

"If you really enjoy something, it's easy to get good at it."

"Speaking of trying to get good at something," Octavia interrupted, "I've been thinking about what you said earlier, Silver Spoon, about your cello teacher."

"Oh, that..." Silver Spoon blushed lightly, poking at a stray mushroom. "It's no big deal, honestly. Mister Spavaldo is a fine teacher, I just--"

"Wait," Octavia interrupted her, eyes wide. "You don't mean Molto Spavaldo, do you?"

"Uh...I'm not sure--"

"Ridiculous little mustache, wears the most hideously patterned ties?" Octavia said, her brow furrowing irately.

"Um..." Silver Spoon hesitated, sensing she had unintentionally struck a nerve. "Yes?"

"That, that...lout is teaching?" Octavia spat, her eyes flashing. "Of all the most useless...hateful...honestly, who in their right mind would let that buffoon anywhere near a child, let alone force them to sit through his self-aggrandizing bluster under the guise of teaching?" The grey earth pony threw her hooves over her head.

"I...uh, my father thought--"

"He isn't even that good a cellist!" the mare continued, gesturing irately at Silver Spoon. "He's just a two-bit nitwit who knows how to look and sound like everypony around him, always soaking up praise he doesn't deserve and dodging criticism at the expense of the real musicians he leeches off of every--"

Vinyl suddenly cleared her throat loudly, giving her mate an intense glare from across the table. "I think we get the point, Tavi."

"Oh..." Octavia blinked and blushed deeply, slowly lowering her hooves and coughing lightly to ease the embarrassment of the awkward moment. "Ahem, yes...well, I'm sorry you had to see that. As you may have surmised, Mister Spavaldo and I...well, we are artistic rivals, to say the least."

"The very least..." Vinyl muttered.

Octavia shot her mate an irritated look. "In any event, suffice it to say I don't think he's an appropriate tutor for any young mare or colt, especially not one who is just starting out."

"Well," Silver Spoon said quietly, still somewhat unnerved by the tirade, "I don't think my father was looking for a particularly good tutor, just a really good cellist. I don't really know, because I just came home one day to find my father and Mister Spavaldo standing in the foyer. He told me I needed some culture, and that Mister Spavaldo was going to teach me how to play."

"You...were not party to this decision, then?" Octavia asked.

Silver Spoon shook her head. "Not really. I tried to tell my father I didn't really enjoy it, and didn't want to continue, but he just kept saying it was for my own good, and that I couldn't quit." She looked down at her hooves in her lap. "I...don't think I have a choice now, though. Mister Spavaldo was really angry last time he left. I don't think he'll be back."

"Good," Octavia said dryly, her eyes half-lidded and dour. "The last thing any filly needs while learning an instrument is to be berated and belittled by somepony who bullied and blustered his way into the orchestra." She sighed and then smiled kindly at Silver Spoon. "But are you still interested in learning to play?"

The silver filly blinked. "I, uh...I don't know. I don't think my father would want to pay for anyone except Mister Spavaldo, honestly."

"Forget what your father wants. I'm asking you, not him."

"Well...I guess. I mean, I don't know how good I would be, but I've always kind of enjoyed listening to classical music, and I thought it might be nice to be able to play it...you know?"

Octavia nodded fervently. "I understand completely. In that case, allow me to offer a proposition, if I may. Since you and Scootaloo will be working on this project for some time anyway, perhaps you could take advantage of my presence here and take some lessons with me."

"Wait a second!" Scootaloo suddenly exclaimed. "You want to teach her here? While we're working?"

"Of course not, dear," Octavia said. "I want to teach her here when you're not working. Assuming she's interested, of course." The mare turned and smiled faintly at Silver Spoon.

"I...um...I guess," Silver Spoon muttered. "I mean, my allowance is...well, it's pretty good, but--"

"Oh, dear, don't be ridiculous!" Octavia laughed. "I couldn't possibly charge you for something I very nearly forced upon you. Besides, it would be entirely optional. You can schedule your lessons whenever you have time. Ideally we can simply meet after you and Scooter--"

"Mom!"

"Sorry, dear." Octavia waved absently at her daughter. "After you and Scootaloo finish working on your project for the day. Interested?"

Silver Spoon contemplated this for several seconds. Eventually, she shrugged and smiled. "Sure, I guess. It might be fun."

"I certainly hope so," the grey mare chuckled softly.

Across the table, Scootaloo groaned and put her head down in her hooves, muttering under her breath. "Great. Just great."