A beam of sunlight through the window caught the glass face of a polished pocketwatch. Time Turner held the watch up to his ear, checking the ticking against his own watch. Perfect: precisely synchronized and running like...well, like clockwork. With a contented smile, Turner placed the watch back into its slot in the velvet box amongst the rest of the small watches. He then put the top on the box, spun the box clockwise twice and placed it in the drawer behind the counter of his shop, placing it so that it wasn't touching any of the drawer walls and shutting the drawer gently. Perfect.

The impeccably clean and precisely organized Turner's Timepiece & Repair Shop in Ponyville carried examples of every timepiece that one could think of, from hourglasses (each of which had precisely counted sand reservoirs) to grandfather clocks that let out a baritone click with every passing second. With a happy sigh, Time Turner looked around the shop. Everything was exactly in it's place and all perfectly synchronized.

There was a customer in the store, a skinny seedy-looking brown unicorn with a messy manecut that hung down over his face. He was looking over a collection of expensive watches in a locked display case. Each of the watches was placed precisely the same distance from each other, the faces set at the exact same angle. Gems encrusted in the faces and bands shone brightly, reflected in the pony's green eyes. "Can I help you, sir?" Time Turner asked, stepping to his side.

"I, uh...I'm just looking, thanks," the pony said, looking a little startled. "Thinking about getting something for the marefriend. How much are these?"

"They range from around fifty to eighty bits apiece," Time Turner replied. The brown pony nodded, his lips thinning briefly. "I'll think about it," he said, turning to exit.

"Feel free to come again," Turner called softly after him as the door shut, the bell tinkling behind the visitor. Turner allowed himself to relax as soon as he was out of sight and the tinkling of the bell had ceased: he knew he had to run a shop, but visitors always made him nervous. He decided to give the watch display the visitor had been looking over another polish, just to be on the safe side. Stooping behind the main counter, he retrieved a cleaning cloth and spray bottle when the bell tinkled again.

Looking up, Time Turner saw a new customer entering the store. This was a skinny pale blue unicorn with a bright yellow tail and a bad manecut. He wore a threadbare brown coat with the collar turned up; his nervous blue eyes peered out through it. His cutie mark was a heart, club, diamond and spade arranged in a circle.

"Can you help me?" the pony asked. His voice was a watery croak.

"If it's got to do with a clock, yes," Time Turner replied, setting the cleaning materials back down.

"I need this repaired." The pony used his magic to pull a small pocketwatch out of his pocket and gave it to Turner. Turner frowned as he examined it. The watch was gold and probably had been expensive when it was bought. But now the gold was faded and tarnished, the chain had been broken off, and the casing was covered in several scratches. The scratches almost obscured the symbol on the casing, a flower and a quill in an inkpot. Opening up the casing, Turner saw that the glass covering was unpolished and that there were more scratches on the inside of the casing: three sets of a series of numbers. And worst of all, the watch wasn't even running!

"I've had this watch for a while now," the pony explained. "It belonged to my father, and I'd like to have it repaired. You know, in his memory."

Turner frowned, examining the watch's inner workings. It obviously had not been taken care of quite some time. "I might be able to fix this," he said.

"I need it as soon as possible," the customer said. For a moment, Turner thought he saw an emotion flash in his eyes: desperation.

"I will contact you as soon as I can fix it," Turner said, putting the cover back on and carefully placing the watch on the counter. "I need a name, Mister...?"

"Straight Flush," the unicorn murmured. "Thank you." And he hurried out the door without another word. Turner blinked in confusion, then carried the pocketwatch to the worktable in the back of the shop. Putting the watch in the center of the table, he pulled a lighted magnifier over it.

The internal mechanism of the watch was worse than he had thought. It probably hadn't run properly in years. Wincing internally, Turner opened a drawer in the table, his hoof hovering over the perfectly arranged tools. He had to fix that watch, but it was in such bad shape that he had no idea where to start.

That's when he noticed something odd. There was an unusual mechanism nestled into the gears. He'd never seen anything like that in a clock before. What was it for? He leaned closer, taking a screwdriver out of the drawer.

CRASH! A noise outside made Turner nearly jump out his skin. Leaving the watch on the table, Turner got up and exited the shop, looking around to find the source of the sound.

"Hi, hon!" a cheery voice declared. Right in front of Turner was none other than his wife, Ditzy Do, giving him a cross-eyed smile as she sat in the midst of a small crater in the ground.

"Hello, dear," Turner said, a goofy smile spreading across his face against his will. "What are you doing here?"

"Just dropped by to say hi!" Ditzy answered, striding over and giving him a warm kiss on the cheek. Turner felt his face go red. "I gotta go, Dinky'll be out of school soon! Mushroom casserole for dinner tonight!"

"Good to know, dear," Turner smiled, waving Ditzy off as she flew off. "Ditzy! The school is that way!"

"I knew that!" Ditzy said, turning around and flying the right way. Shaking his head, Turner went back into the shop, the mysterious pocketwatch driven out of his head. No other customers came that day, giving Turner plenty of time to clean and make sure that everything in the display area was properly placed.

At precisely four o'clock, he closed up his shop, drawing the blinds and locking the door behind him. Cheerily, he trotted down the street, humming a happy tune. Now for a daily visit the park, enjoying the sun and wind on his face, before returning home to his wife and daughter. He picked up a newspaper at a stand, trotted over to his favorite bench underneath a hundred year old oak tree with bright green leaves that whispered in the breeze, and started on the crossword puzzle. He smiled contentedly to himself as he placed the letters into the boxes with his favorite pen. Every letter in its place.

Eleven minutes and forty seven seconds later, right after he had put "punctual" into 18 Across, he suddenly remembered the pocketwatch. "I should take that home to work on it," he said to himself. Tucking the newspaper beneath his foreleg, he started to trot back to the store. His tail stiffened at the disruption of his schedule, but he ignored the feeling.

As soon as he came within sight of the shop, however, his entire body went stiff. The door, which he had locked behind him, was wide open with the door jamb torn. Rushing inside, Turner turned on the spot, his mouth dropping open in horror.

Almost everything was gone. The display cases broken to display their missing merchandise, the grandfather clocks shoved aside, the cash register with it's empty drawer ripped open.

Nothing was in it's place anymore. Not even Time Turner himself.

Author's Notes:

The beginning of a new story featuring Ponyville's favorite clockmaker and his bubblehead wife, going head to head with a dangerous gang over a strange pocketwatch...