Twilight Sparkle had been awake for well over three minutes and, instead of turning around, she spent that time rubbing her head against the pillow while sliding her legs underneath the sheets. Her sheets were cool and soft and felt wonderful against her skin. She kept her eyes shut tight and tried to ignore the mild ache in her neck and the foreboding sickness in her belly. A headache was on its way, she knew, but that was to be Future Twilight’s problem. At the moment she was Present Twilight, and the largest worry she’d allow herself was her dry mouth, her bad breath… and just who she might be sharing a bed with.

Clearly, she’d done much more the previous evening than merely drink.

Twilight awoke near the edge of the bed and staring at the wall. Something—someone—occupied the other side, pressing themselves into her soft mattress. As tempted as she was to spin around and learn of whom she’d allowed into her bed, she thought given the situation, a more academic approach to be more apropos.

She had to put a hoof to her mouth to stifle a giggle.

Late into the evening the day before, Rainbow Dash had pestered Twilight and her friends into visiting Ponyville’s newest tavern. As Ms. Dash had so eloquently put it, she’d planned to “get her drink on” and this particular time Twilight found she was more than ready to accept the offer.

It was simple, really. Also only a matter of time.

For years now, Twilight had devoted most of her life to friends and family, alongside the all consuming pursuit of scholarly knowledge. True. She loved what she did—loved books and facts and the smiles on her friends’ faces as they sang the day away. But how often was she able to just let it all out and simply unwind with total reckless abandon?

Once the offer was asked, Rainbow Dash held out her hoof and Twilight struck it hard enough to stagger the pegasus. Rainbow Dash could tell; Twilight Sparkle planned to get her drink on come Tartarus or high-water.

Warmly tucked between her bed sheets the following morning, Twilight smiled and held in her laughs by the smallest of degrees. The biggest question of the day: just who had joined her in bed?

Her recollection of her time spent at the tavern was hazy at best. She remembered Rainbow Dash buying the first round and then being the first to finish; a distinct look in her eyes informing the alicorn she’d been craving booze as well as something else. Would Twilight twist around in her covers and come face to face with that particular rainbow-colored mare?

Or would she instead find Fluttershy, curled up into a snuggly little ball? Hadn’t they shared more than a few drinks that night, alongside a few secrets she’d promised to take with her to the dungeon in the place Celestia’s always banished ponies to?

Hadn’t that Wonderbolts stallion been glancing in her direction more than once from across the bar? Twilight friends had pestered her to go speak with him, but for the life of her, she couldn’t remember a single conversation between them.

Twilight had laughed and she had drunk and she had probably done a lot of things dainty Princesses weren’t supposed to do. But honestly, Twilight couldn’t care less. She’d cut loose and was prepared to face whatever bad decision she’d made. Or perhaps good decision.

Twilight buried her head into her pillow, the laundry list of names growing longer.

Rarity? Applejack? Pinkie Pie?

That bartender with the mustache curled at both ends?

The one unicorn hogging the stage all night?

That lone mare in the washroom that asked who’d done her mane?

Or none of them at all? Rather someone she couldn’t even remember?

Celestia, damn it. Even the sight of a peacefully snoozing Trixie wouldn’t shock her all that much. Why couldn’t the two of them have one drunken evening of simply Great and Powerful sex?

It was then that Twilight knew she couldn’t take it any longer. She had to know and she had to know now. Smiling brightly, she left the safety of her pillow and spun to greet her guest. Too bad it wasn’t a single pony on her list of bed-sharing prospects.

“No one?” she quietly asked the other side of her bed; a thick stack of tossed aside pillows creating the weight of someone else.

With a hoof, Twilight nudged each pillow away, letting them fall to the floor. With each soft plop that came, Twilight’s heart sank. No other pony lay in hiding. No other pony waited to be found. Twilight’s bed had only a single pony in it, and suddenly it felt much colder than before.

“Really?” she asked the empty half of her sleeping space.

Twilight brought the last pillow to her chest and squeezed. She’d awoken in bed more times alone than with others, so why did it hurt this time like this? Last night she’d had fun and had her share of friends and food. Maybe only this time, she’d wanted a little more.

She softly sighed into her pillow, then peered up by the sound of running water.

Like a hyper-charged bolt of electricity, Twilight sprung out of bed and flew to the noise. The door to her washroom was shut and she overheard whoever inside washing off their hooves. Before they came out, Twilight took a breath and ran a hoof through her disheveled mane, doing little to repair it.

Twilight’s new found euphoria quickly faded away as it was only Spike that exited her washroom, whistling as he dried off his claws.

He rubbed at both eyes. “Good morning, Twilight. Didn’t think you’d be up this early.”

Twilight took a hurried glance over his head to find her washroom empty. “I really couldn’t sleep anymore… I thought that…” She stared at the floor, absently kicking at a bit of dirt.

Spike strolled under her head. “Why you look so sad, Twi? Not feeling so well after last night? I think I remember some hangover cure Granny Smith mentioned before. I might have it written down here somewhere.”

Twilight sighed, lazily pacing around her room. “It’s not that, Spike. I’m sure I’ll start feeling its full effects soon enough, it’s just that…” She stared at the rumpled covers hanging from her bed. “It’s just that I wasn’t expecting to find myself alone this morning.”

Spike cocked an eyebrow. “But you’re not. I’m right here. Talking to you. Right now.”

Twilight struggled to explain. “That’s not… entirely what I meant, Spike. You know that sometimes when ponies get close, they share the same bed—sometimes overnight. After letting go and getting a little wild with all my friends, I was kind of expecting to find someone next to me this morning.”

“But you’re not even anyone’s special somepony, Twilight. What were you expecting to happen?”

Twilight shut her eyes and put a hoof to her temple. “I don’t know, Spike. It’s hard to put into words. A little mistake, maybe? A night of silliness and bad decisions continues until the morning, followed by a little breakfast and awkward conversation?” She exhaled slowly. “I know this is saying a lot, but it might have even been someone I’d want to see again… in a relationship type way. Who says special someponies can’t meet one another like that?”

Spike came to stand beside her. “So you, like, wanted a one-night stand?”

Twilight grimaced. “I wasn’t about to put it in such blunt terms, Spike, but I guess, yes, that’s sort of what I’d hoped would happen.” The image of the packed tavern filled her mind—the dozens and dozens of fellow drinking and laughing ponies. With watery eyes, she turned to her assistant. “You don’t think there’s something wrong with me, do you? I mean, I try to be as nice as I can to everyone, and I know I tend to be a little awkward from time to time, but to think that not a single pony would’ve seen me home last night…”

Spike took the cue and wrapped himself around her. Pulling away, he held an arm out to the rest of her bedroom. “I know for a fact, Twilight, that there’s absolutely nothing wrong with you. You’re the best mare I know and you always will be. But was this really how you’d want to meet that special somepony? By getting drunk and ending up doing something you’d end up regretting?”

Twilight dried her eyes and nodded.

Spike continued, “If you really want to meet someone, you should actually go out and meet them. Not play a game of chance to see who you might end up with.” He leaned towards her “And just between you and me, Twilight, I know a lot of ponies that would jump at the opportunity to spend time with you.”

She smiled and wrapped a leg around him. “Thank you, Spike. I really needed to hear that. I had fun letting go for a night, but looking back on it later, is that really how I’d want to meet someone I might grow to care about?”

With a nod, Spike pulled her in for a hug and Twilight returned the embrace. Afterwards, Spike went to the doorway and stopped. “I’m glad to see you’re feeling better, Twilight, but I might as well tell you now.”

Twilight looked at him. “Tell me what?”

“That someone spent the night here with you.”

Twilight hid her tiny smirk behind a hoof. “Really? Who?”

Spike started strolling down the hall. “The better question is who didn’t.”

***

The largest room in Twilight’s castle was four times the size of the Golden Oaks library. It had been fitted with lush rugs and seats and couches pushed against every wall. Currently, that large area was host to more ponies and creatures than Twilight could properly count. It was almost like some optical illusion—the more one looked at it, the more ponies found their way into the mix.

Thankfully, all were still deeply asleep.

Twilight counted with a hoof. “Applejack, Pinkie Pie, Rarity…. Fluttershy and Rainbow Dash—they’re all on that couch over there. That’s Trixie in the corner near the Cakes… and is that Flim and Flam? Really?”

Spike held a clipboard and quill. He shrugged at her inquiry.

“Big Mac, Braeburn, Gilda, Soarin, Spitfire, Mayor Mare, Bulk Biceps, Cheerilee, Lyra, Bon Bon, Octavia—oh, Celestia, please don’t tell me that’s Discord asleep on the table.”

Spike added another note. “That’s definitely Discord. And since you’d mentioned her, Celestia and Luna are on the carpet near the fireplace.”

Twilight shut her eyes and mashed a hoof into her forehead. “How’d I even get all these ponies here? What else could I have possibly done last night?”

Spike whistled and flipped to another page, scanning down a list. “A lot, actually. You joined the Wonderbolts and beat Rainbow Dash in a race. Feeling confident about that, you then mended hostilities between the Griffon Empire and the rest of Equestria. You bucked every apple tree at Sweet Apple Acres. You designed a dress that made Rarity weep from sheer beauty. You manufactured a new type of painkiller you trademarked as ‘Twilinol’. You were gifted a second set of wings for some reason, but did away with them. You touched your knee with your tongue, then you touched several other knees with your tongue. It was around that point Future Twilight came back in time to warn you about today’s hangover, so Present Twilight punched herself in the face. After a quick washroom break, you brought King Sombra back from the dead and reformed him in three-and-a-half minutes using a song and dance number you wrote and choreographed yourself.”

Twilight sat down on the floor, rubbing at both temples. “What was the song called?”

“Grumblee Gardenfolchure. I hope I’m saying that right. By that point in the night, you were really hard to understand.”

She scowled at him. “Were you taking notes during all this?”

“You told me to!” he exclaimed. “With flourishing detail!” He reached for a large text from the bookcase, tossing it to the floor next to her. “This is volume one, if you’re interested.”

Twilight poked its side. “Hardcover?”

“You demanded it.”

Twilight collapsed to the floor and moaned, too overwhelmed to stand. She mumbled to him, “You’d better make some coffee, Spike. I think we’re going to need it.”

“I don’t think there’s enough coffee in the castle for all of them.”

Twilight moaned again. “Not for them. For me. I’m going to teleport them out of here before they wake up. One pony, sure. I could’ve lived with that. I was even hoping for that. Not…” she gestured to her hundreds of sleeping guests “…this.”

She took a moment to look over the room, pausing for a moment at a stallion clad in a red-and-white striped shirt and hat. She turned to Spike. “What didn’t I do last night?”

With a deep-set frown, Spike peered up from his notes.

“Me.”