Lazy Summer Days

by GentlemanJ

First published 9th of June, 2012

Life's not just for adventures. Sometimes, the best stories happen on lazy summer days.

The sixth story in The Journey of Graves.

Spring has come and gone, Graves remains in Ponyville, and for once, all is well. No monsters to slay, no damsels to rescue, nothing: just nice, relaxing days passing in easy leisure. Or, at least as relaxing as Ponyville ever gets. A collection of short stories, the marshal takes a break from fighting and learns a little more about his friends and neighbors, one lazy summer day at a time.

The Most Dangerous Game

This is the sixth story in The Journey of Graves. Special thanks go to MrBackpack, my spectacular editor, who did so much to help me craft this story.

The series begins with the first story: When the Man Comes Around.

IMPORTANT: If you haven't read the series, please head back to the beginning and check it out. While each story stands on its own, the character and relationship developments will build on each other as the series progresses.

And so, the saga continues...

Flying, flying, flying…

Stop!

Pause.

Wait. Watch. Keep watching. Keep watching…

It’s moving! Go after it!

Stop!

Hide!

Peek out. Carefully. Did it see you? No? Good. You’re safe.

Get out. Slowly. Don’t be seen.

Must get back and report.

Flying, flying, flying…

When Pinkie heard the tapping at the door, she busted her butt to get it. After all, the sign on Sugar Cube Corners said closed, and everybody knows that nobody knocks on the door of a closed bakery. Nobody, except those who are in the know, of course.

“Hurry up and get inside!” she hissed, a split second before Rainbow Dash came tumbling through. Locking the door quickly, Pinkie Pie turned to her fallen flyer friend and looked at her expectantly.

“Well? How’d it go? He didn’t see you, did he?”

“Psh, no way,” the tomboy replied from where she lay on the ground. “You should’ve seen me, Pinks. I was all like, ‘dun dun, dun dun dun,' and he was all like, ‘nope, don’t see Rainbow Dash anywhere,’ and I was all…”

“Yeah yeah yeah,” the bubbly baker prodded on. “But you did get it, right? You know, the… information?” The last word was finished with a conspiratorial hush as Pinkie Pie’s eyes narrowed suspiciously. Rainbow Dash just grinned smugly and held up a single piece of paper.

“Got it all right here.”

“Great!” Pinkie Pie beamed as she grabbed the sheet and eagerly read it. “Ooh, this is good. And I mean really, really, good!”

“So, are we ready?” Rainbow Dash asked, now fluttering in the air excitedly. “I mean, are we really gonna do it? Today?”

“It’s too good an opportunity to pass up,” Pinkie Pie said with an evil grin. “Come on, Dashie, to the war room!”

“You got it, boss!” the flyer laughed with a crisp salute and immediately followed after.

The room was dark, save for a bright square of light on the wall, courtesy of a portable projector. Suddenly, Pinkie Pie came swaggering in, fully decked out in a general’s uniform and her pink, cotton candy perm firmly capped by a steel helmet.

“Alright, troops, listen up!” she barked, whipping out a riding crop for a pointer and firmly slapping it against her open palm. “You who’ve gathered here today are the finest pranksters, jokers, and comedians ever to set foot in Equestria. Well, I’m here to tell you that that all those laughs don’t mount up to a hill of beans! That’s right, no delicious beans for you, because today, we’re about to go after the biggest, most serious… Yes! Private!”

“Uh, Pinkie Pie?” Rainbow Dash asked, looking around at the empty room, “Why are you talking like that? It’s just us.”

“Because,” the bubbly girl giggled. “It’s more fun that way, silly!”

“Oh. Gotcha.”

“Anyways, troops,” Pinkie Pie resumed, her war face returning in a flash. “I’m sure you’re all familiar with today’s target. He’s the roughest, toughest, most unprankable person of all! That’s right, I’m talking about… Marshal Graves!”

Smacking the projector with her riding crop, a large image of the raven-haired soldier appeared on the wall. Considering the way he stared right at them as he waved hello, it was probably safe to assume it wasn’t a candid shot.

“As you all know, The Big G here is a marshal. That means he’s gonna be quick like a cat, with reflexes like a puma, senses like a jaguar, the instincts of a cheetah–”

“Okay, we get it,” Rainbow Dash sighed. “Hurry it up, will ya?”

“Right!” Pinkie Pie heartily agreed. “So let’s get down to business. Thanks to Private Dashie’s careful surveillance,” she nodded to the multicolored flyer who grinned smugly, “we now have a comprehensive list of all the likely places Graves will be today. From intercepted conversations between the marshal and our secret agent, Spike, it looks like he’s going to visit Rarity’s boutique, then Sweet Apple Acres, stop by the Sweetwater Café, and then go home.”

“That means we’ve got exactly three chances to nail him before he’s safely tucked away in his house,” Rainbow Dash said, a fierce grin on her face and a fiery flash of excitement in her eyes.

“That’s the spirit, Private,” Pinkie Pie cheered. “Now, what do we have in our arsenal?”

“Let’s see, we’ve got… a rubber chicken, a pack of sneezing powder, two bottles of hot sauce, one full set of food coloring, and a variety of novelty plastic animals.”

“Excellent,” Pinkie Pie smiled wickedly. “Pack it all up, Private, and let’s move out.”

“Er… even the rubber chicken?” Rainbow Dash asked hesitantly.

“Especially the rubber chicken. Keep in mind, Private Dashie, this isn’t just a simple prank run. This. Is. War.”

Summer was in full swing, and true to her word, Rarity had put together a new ensemble for the marshal. Instead of his usual leather long coat – which would have been unbearably hot, not to mention slightly tacky in the pretty seamstress’s opinion – the young soldier was instead decked out in a charcoal grey, pinstripe vest with matching slacks over a light blue shirt. The hat was the same (he’d been insistent on that point), but was now black to match his new attire, courtesy of a fancy chameleon spell the violet-haired girl had whipped up.

It was now on the road to said young lady’s house that he was being watched. Twin pairs of binoculars spotted him as he strolled along before simultaneously withdrawing into the brush cover where Pinkie Pie and Rainbow Dash waited in fatigues.

“So, what’s the plan, boss?” Rainbow Dash whispered.

“See that patch of wildflowers over there?” Pinkie replied, pointing at a nearby plot of daisies. “Well, I’ve already laced them with sneezing powder. When Graves sees them and comes over for a sniff… bam! Achoo city!”

“…Uh, Pinkie?” Rainbow Dash began hesitantly, “are you sure that this is–”

“Ooh! Ooh! Shh! Here he comes!”

Practically stuffing her hand into the cyan flier’s mouth, the pink-haired baker stifled a giggle as the marshal approached.

Drawing closer and closer, the two girls watched him as he approached. Fifteen feet. Ten feet. Five feet. Here he came…

… and there he went, Graves not slowing a hair as he kept right on going.

“Wait, what?” Pinkie gaped in shock. “But he just… but he should’ve… Why didn’t he…”

“He’s a dude, Pinkster,” Rainbow sighed as she rolled her eyes. “Dudes in general, especially dudes like him, don’t get into all that namby pamby sissy stuff. Duh.”

“Ooh, I getcha,” Pinkie Pie nodded in realization. “Wow, that’s kind of surprising. I thought flowers were like cupcakes, in that everyone loves cupcakes. Seriously, who doesn’t love cupcakes?”

“I… think we’re getting a little off topic here,” Rainbow Dash chuckled. “Well anyways, don’t worry about it. I figured out the perfect prank that’s sure to get the Big G.”

Having made their way to Sweet Apple Acres, the same camouflaged duo peeked out from under a large bale of hay. Out in the field, Graves was helping Big Macintosh clear the ground of stones in order to get it ready for summer planting.

“So what’re you planning, Rainbow Dash?” Pinkie Pie whispered eagerly as she kept a keen eye on the working pair. The multicolored tomboy giggled as she began to explain.

“Okay, okay. Here’s how it works. Big G’ll be working and after a while, he gets thirsty, right? So he goes over to the hose by the barn for a drink. Only, I plugged up the hose, so when he turns it on and nothing comes out, he takes a look at it, and BAM! Hose to the face!”

“Oh my gosh!” Pinkie Pie gasped! “That’s brilliant!”

“I know, isn’t it?” Rainbow Dash squealed. “And best part is, I filled the water tank with food coloring! After that hits him, his face’ll turn a nice shade of robin's egg blue!”

“You. Are. A. Genius!” Pinkie Pie squealed, almost bursting from laughter. Her friend just grinned.

“Yeah, tell me something I don’t know.”

The two girls could hardly contain their glee as they watched and waited. The day wore on and the sun got hotter, till finally Graves and Big Mac put down their tools and started walking over.

“Oh look, look!” Rainbow Dash pointed. “There they come!”

But as they approached, Pinkie’s nose started to itch. It wasn’t the kind of itch that meant a sneeze coming on or anything. No, this was a Pinkie sense itch telling her she’d forgotten something.

“Hey, Rainbow Dash?” she asked quietly, scratching her nose.

“Yeah, Pinkie?”

“So the whole hose thing: you set it up to work once right?”

“Duh,” the cyan flyer scoffed. “Why would I need it to work more than once?”

“Well…” Pinkie Pie hesitated for a moment. “What if Graves doesn’t get there first?”

Rainbow Dash moved to reply, but froze as the horrible realization dawned on her. Turning her attention back to the field, Pinkie’s premonitions practically became prophesy as after a brief moment’s discourse, Graves headed towards the Apple family house while Big Mac went for the hose.

“… Well that wasn’t supposed to happen,” the cyan flier frowned at the marshal’s retreating back. “I mean seriously, what are the odds?”

“Actually, about fifty-fifty,” Pinkie Pie replied. “Or more like two in three if you count Applejack. But then there’s Applebloom, so that’s more like three in four, and Granny Smith makes it four out of five… And if there’s an Apple family reunion, that’d make it twenty–”

“Okay ,okay, I get it,” Rainbow Dash sighed, stuffing a hand in her chatty friend’s face. “Come on. Let’s get out of here and figure out what to do next.”

“Okie dokie lokie!”

So as a lone pile of hay began making its way across Sweet Apple Acres, Big Macintosh was left to his own devices as he refreshed himself with a cool drink of water. Or tried to, at least. The hose was on, but no water came out.

“What in tarnation...?” he drawled, peering into the hose…

“Okay, I think we’ve been going about this the wrong way,” Rainbow Dash whispered to her co-conspirator.

“Right,” the perky baker said. “My plan wasn’t planned out enough, and your plan was too planned. So what we need is a plan with just enough planniness without getting overly planny.”

“Um… right,” the confused flyer agreed. Pinkie Pie’s explanations never were quite easy to understand.

The two were now stationed outside the Sweetwater Café, peering out of a bush some twenty feet distant from the restaurant’s outdoor seating. Graves, their target, was relaxing at one of the side tables, a copy of the Equestria Daily unfolded before him as he awaited his order.

“Anyways,” the tomboy continued, “this one should be perfect. Nice, simple, and by the books.”

“A true classic,” Pinkie nodded sagely. “The old, 'hot sauce in the drink' trick. Can’t get much better than that.”

“Exactly. Rarity tells me he always orders coffee, so I–”

“She seems to hang out with Graves an awful lot lately,” Pinkie mused thoughtfully. Rainbow Dash blinked.

“Wait, seriously?” she asked askance. “Big G and the girliest girl in Ponyville?”

“Uh, yeah,” Pinkie Pie giggled. “He’s over at her shop all the time for her designs. Not to mention they always seem to bump into each other at the library, and I don’t even know how many times they’ve met for lunch, tea, or sometimes both. Seriously, they’re together a bunch, and I mean a bunch.”

“Wow,” Rainbow Dash gaped in surprise. “Hadn’t noticed.”

“You never do, Dashie,” Pinkie Pie sighed in a decidedly superior tone. “You never do.”

“… Right.” The cyan flier just rolled her eyes. “Anyways, we know he always gets coffee, so I went ahead and dropped in the sauce. Now all we’ve got to do is sit here and wait.”

“How much hot sauce did you put in?” Pinkie Pie asked, which prompted an evil little cackle from her multi-colored friend.

“All of it.”

Pinkie Pie’s eyes went wide. That many scovilles was enough to burn a hole through the floor. And probably all the way to Marelaysia.

It was brilliant.

A minute or two passed, and the fancy waiter with the fancy mustache finally came out, bearing a ceramic cup and tall metal pot. The two girls watched eagerly, breath bated as he poured the marshal a steaming cup of java. Their eyes practically glowed as Graves picked up the cup, lifted it to his lips, took a sip…

… and set it back down as he resumed reading the paper.

“Wait, what?!” Pinkie Pie gasped, loud enough that Lyra and Bonbon, seated on a nearby bench, glanced around in confusion. After she got Rainbow Dash’s hand out of her mouth, she resumed in a much more covert tone.

“Rainbow Dash, I thought you said you put all the hot sauce into the coffee!”

“I did!” her friend hissed back. “Both bottles! All of it!”

“Well, unless he’s got a tongue like sandpaper,” Pinkie retorted, “something went wrong!”

Whatever Pinkie Pie had for breakfast, it was working, because once again her words were proven true. Coming out of the restaurant proper was another fancy waiter, who headed to a nearby table with an identical metal pot.

“Rainbow Dash?” Pinkie Pie began, her eyes slowly widening. “Exactly which thing of coffee did you put the hot sauce in?”

“Um… the right one?” the multicolored blanched.

The two girls watched in mute horror as the waiter dropped the coffee and a platter of muffins for a couple nearby. As the cross-eyed girl with straw colored locks tore into the muffins, her companion, a tall, thin man in a pinstripe suit and fabulous hair, took a huge gulp of coffee.

“Gaaaahhhh!” he cried, spewing the contents of his cup all over the muffins as he jumped up and began fanning the flames shooting from his mouth. The startled waiters rushed over, the cross-eyed girl began crying over the waste of baked goods, and Graves glanced up in surprise as chaos consumed the café.

“Um… maybe we should get out of here,” Rainbow Dash whispered.

“Yeah,” Pinkie Pie nodded slowly. “That might be a good idea.”

Graves paused as he reached to open his front door. His door was open. Looking up, he could clearly see why.

“Bucket of water?” he called out loudly. “Really?”

A nearby bush rustled violently and promptly spat out a branch-and-leaf-covered pair of girls. A pair of girls who, upon seeing the marshal, blushed and grinned in abject embarrassment.

“Heh… was it that obvious?” Rainbow Dash asked, red now the predominant color on her person as her cheeks heated up.

“Kind of,” the marshal chuckled. “Not like the hose. Had to admit, that was pretty good.”

“Wait, you knew?” Pinkie Pie gaped in amazement. “Since when?”

“Since I saw Rainbow Dash following me?” Graves suggested. “That was pretty obvious too.”

“Aw, come on!” the blue-clad flyer cried out, tossing her hands in the air. “This is so not fair! It’s like, you’re totally unprankable or something!”

“Don’t feel bad,” he said, his encouraging words slightly spoiled by the cocky grin that started to peek out. “I’m just good like that.”

“Boy, I’ll say!” Pinkie Pie agreed enthusiastically. “In fact, you’re so good, that I just wanna shake your hand!” Bouncing to her feet, the bubbly baker thrust out a hand with a wide grin. Graves just gave her a pointedly flat look.

“Palm?” he asked, eyebrow arched. Turning over her hand, Pinkie Pie revealed a small buzzer held between her fingers.

“Golly,” she gasped in overly innocent astonishment. “How did that get there, I wonder?”

“I wonder indeed,” Graves repeated dryly as he pulled the bucket of water down. “Points for effort, but you’ll have to do better than that.”

“Grr, just you wait, G!” Rainbow Dash shouted, shaking her fist at him. “One of these days, we’ll get you good! Count on it!”

“You’re welcome to try,” the marshal said lightly. “You’re welcome to try.”

As the door closed behind him, the two girls held still for a moment. Then, a big, wicked grin spread across each of their faces as they turned to one another.

“Three, two, one…” they counted down…

…

“GYYYYYYYAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHH!”

Tears streaming down their faces, Pinkie Pie and Rainbow Dash both fell to the ground, clutching their stomachs as they laughed with gut-busting fervor at the cry that came from indoors. A cry that, despite the manly baritone, sounded an awful lot like a girly scream.

“I… can’t… believe… it worked!” Rainbow Dash wheezed, hardly able to breathe from laughing so hard.

“I told you,” Pinkie Pie snorted through watery eyes, “the old, 'screw-up-a-bunch-of-pranks-to-get-a-really-good-one’ always does it!”

“But really, who’d have thought that Big G would get so freaked out by a bunch of rubber bugs?”

“Well, when they enchanted to jump out of the dresser and go for the face…”

By the time Graves made it outside, his face flushed a bright red from a dash of anger and a whole lot of embarrassment, the dynamic duo had long since disappeared. Their gut-busting laughter, however, could still be clearly heard.

The Club

“Ninety-seven…”

“Ninety-eight…”

“Ninety-nine…”

The sound of knocking brought Graves out of his thoughts.

“One hundred.”

Grunting out the last count, Graves slowly dropped to his feet and stood up, panting from exertion. Rolling his neck and shoulders before giving himself a quick wipe down, the young soldier tossed on a light blue linen shirt and headed down the stairs to open the door, squinting as the setting sun silhouetted his visitor.

“Hey, Graves, how’s it hanging?” a brown-haired fellow in a tan jacket cheerfully called.

The marshal blinked in surprise. Of all the people he’d expected to be at the door, Caramel wasn’t one of them. Sure, Graves had run into him a few times at the convenience store where the fellow worked and passed some idle chit-chat, but that was about it. So it was with a good deal of curiosity that Graves stood there and greeted him.

“Evening, Caramel,” Graves drawled in his typically low, gravelly voice. “What brings you here at this time of day?” The young man at the door opened his mouth to speak but paused, his open mouth doing a fair impression of a flytrap.

“Well, I was wondering if, um… hmm. Wow,” he finished with an embarrassed grin, “I totally forgot what I was going to say. Sorry, I’m always doing that. Forgetting, that is.”

“No worries, take your time,” the marshal said, giving him an encouraging nod.

“Okay then, let’s see,” Caramel began, putting a hand to his chin in thought. “I know it was something I had to tell you, – obviously, because why else would I be here? – something that Big Mac reminded me of this morning… Oh, I got it!” he exclaimed. “Are you busy right now?”

“Uh, no? ” Graves answered uncertainly. "Why?"

“Because there’s this thing I need to show you. Trust me, it’ll be really neat!”

The young soldier looked at his visitor for a moment, considering the offer.

“Sure, he finally shrugged. “Why not?”

Not like he had anything else to do.

“So, where exactly are you taking me?” Graves asked.

“Don’t worry,” Caramel grinned. “You’ll find out soon enough.

The evening was pleasantly cool after the day’s brilliant heat, and Rarity’s newest creation was a wonderful summery replacement to his usual long leather coat. In its place, he donned a wine-colored waistcoat over dark slacks and his aforementioned light blue shirt. As always, his broad-brimmed hat was faithfully perched in place, the chameleon spell matching its usual brown tones to the ensemble: a very handy spell it was, and one he’d have to properly thank the pretty seamstress for...

Anyways, back to the present. Caramel led Graves through the town, snaking between houses and down alleyways shadowed by the dusk of the setting sun. After rounding probably the seventh turn down yet another narrow street, they finally arrived at their destination.

“Here we are,” he grinned, heaving open a cellar door to reveal a set of stairs. “After you.”

Giving both entryway and doorman a curious look, the marshal descended the stairs and entered a dimly lit passageway. A few small lanterns dotted a short corridor that ended with solid wooden door.

“What is this?” Graves asked, eyeing the door as Caramel came in and closed the cellar shutters behind him. His guide just grinned as he ushered the marshal forward and firmly seized the large iron ring on the oaken barrier.

“It’s got a lot of names,” Caramel grinned, relishing the moment before the big unveiling. “Some call it a home away from home. Others call it a safe harbor. Still more call it an oasis. Me? I just call it… The Club.”

Caramel pulled opened the door and revealed that beyond it lay… a pretty normal room, actually. A well-stocked bar occupied one corner of the room, a pool table took up another, and a small assortment of tables filled in the rest of space. All in all, it looked very much like any other medium-sized bar, except for one particular difference.

“… Why’s it all guys?” Graves asked as he scanned the room. He saw Mr. Cake and Big Mac shooting a friendly game of billiards, Filthy Rich talking with what appeared to be business associates at a side table, Thunderlane enjoying a round of brews with his friends, and many more of Ponyville's distinguished roster in attendance. But as he had noticed, they were all guys, with not a single girl, woman, lady, damsel, female, or any other such variant of the fairer persuasion anywhere in sight. Caramel just grinned.

“That’s the point,” he smiled as he led them over to a couple of stools at the counter. “The beauty of The Club is that’s it’s just us guys. No girls allowed.”

Before Graves had a chance to question that rather odd statement – and indeed one he hadn’t heard spoken by anyone above the age of seven – a very large and very round man standing behind the bar turned to face them.

“Well, well,” the big – correction, enormous – man boomed, a broad smile splitting his face behind a fiery red beard, “if it isn’t ol’ Caramel come to pay a visit!”

“Hey there, Red!” the young man grinned back. “Thought I’d drop in and introduce Graves to The Club.”

“Ah, the marshal!” the aptly named Red chuckled, sounding an awfully lot like a mountainside avalanche. “It's mighty nice of you to drop in. How’s about a nice cold one to wet your whistle there, eh?” Before Graves had a chance to answer, Red topped off two, hearty tankards of ale and slammed them down before the seated pair, shaking the entire counter as he did.

“Thanks, Red!” Caramel laughed as he picked up his cup and took a big gulp. Following his guide’s lead, Graves did as well and took a large swallow of the crisp, refreshing brew.

“Ah, nothing like having a good drink with the boys to unwind, eh Graves?” Caramel sighed contentedly as he set the half-empty cup back down. “No girls to worry about, just us guys.”

“Yeah, about that,” the marshal said, setting down his tankard as well. “You said earlier that was the point of… The Club. What did you mean by that?”

“You see, Graves,” the sandy-haired fellow said, swiveling his stool to face his compatriot, “Ponyville’s great and all, and don’t get me wrong, and I love everyone here. But sometimes it just gets a bit… overwhelming. You follow?”

“Not exactly,” Graves replied slowly.

“I’m talking about the girls,” Caramel continued, brow furrowed as he tried to explain himself. “Like I said, they’re nice and everything, but they’re all so... dominant, you know? It’s like they’re all, oh how do I describe it… it's like they’re all main characters and we’re just scenery, or something.”

The marshal blinked.

“Come again?”

“Yeah!” Caramel nodded fervently as he took another big gulp. “Haven’t you ever got the feeling that the girls around here are always the center of attention? And they’re so many of them, it’s enough to make us guys feel like side characters making up the background. You know the feeling, right?”

“Honestly, no,” Graves smiled wryly. Truth be told, he’d really never felt like that. Couldn’t imagine why.

“Just give it time,” the brown-haired bloke nodded knowingly, his face growing solemn as he stared into his cup. “Maybe it’s cause you’re new, but stick around in Ponyville long enough, and you’ll see what I mean. After a while, you start to blend into the landscape. What you do becomes less important, and pretty soon, you’re just a pair of eyes watching as the world goes by.”

For a moment, Graves just stared at him in silent amazement.

“… Did you just break up with your girlfriend or something?”

Caramel looked up from his drink and the marshal was shocked to see the lad’s eyes filled to the brim with tears.

“No,” he sniffed, visibly fighting to keep himself together. “Because that’d mean I actually had one in the first place. But she… she… SHE WOULDN’T EVEN GIVE ME THE TIME OF DAY!” And with that, Caramel began bawling his eyes out and ran out the door.

Graves stared, completely dumbstruck as Red doubled over in loud, hooting laughter behind the counter.

“Hoo, boy,” the big man wheezed as he clutched his expansive belly with one hand and braced himself on the table with the other. “You… you really do have a way with words, don’t you marshal?”

“Is he alright?” Graves asked, a touch disconcerted by the whole situation. Red just gave it a dismissive wave as he struggled to stand upright.

“Ah, don’t worry about him,” he continued whilst flicking a tear from his eye. “He just got turned down when he asked out Twilight Sparkle. Again.” The young man sputtered into his drink.

“Wait, what?!”

“Oh yeah,” Red chuckled as he stroked his beard. “I believe that makes it, what, six times now? You’d think he’d get the picture by now, but he’s completely smitten. 'Course, that little lady’s got nothing but books on the brain, so it’d probably never work with them anyways.”

“Wow,” Graves murmured as he took a long drink. “Twilight Sparkle. Never would have thought.”

“Quite the popular little lady, that Twilight,” Red nodded as he stroked his beard. "And all her friends as well. Applejack’s got that homey quality a lot of guys like, Pinkie Pie’s always a hoot and real popular with the younger lads, and of course, we always got a bunch thinking he’ll be the one who finally wrangles in Rainbow Dash, if you catch my drift.”

“How do you know all this?” the marshal asked a touch incredulously. Friendly as he was, Red didn’t seem exactly like a social butterfly and privy to the latest town gossip, especially not gossip of the more romantic persuasion. The big barkeep seemed to sense the young man’s skepticism and broadly smiled.

“We've got no shortage of young bucks ready to share sob stories as they drown their latest sorrows,” he said, giving the wooden counter a fond pat. “Didn’t have no shortage of teary tales when Fluttershy and Big Macintosh went steady, let me tell you that.”

“They’re a couple?” Graves asked in amazement. He’d been to Sweet Apple Acres quite often and worked with the taciturn farmer more than once, but he’d never mentioned it. Then again, Big Mac never mentioned much, so it actually sort of made sense he hadn’t heard. But still...

“Been so for maybe a month now, and I say good for them,” Red beamed. “Broke a lot of hearts she did, but she’s such a sweet girl, most fellows just wished her the best and moved on.” Suddenly, something occurred to the big bartender and he broke out into fresh peals of laughter once more. “'Course, wish I could say the same for Rarity.”

Graves choked on his drink once more.

“Come again?” he coughed, pounding his chest as he eyed the red-bearded man with gunmetal grey eyes unusually sharp and focused.

“Why, didn’t you know?” Red asked in genuine surprised. “She’s probably the most popular of the lot. Regular little heart breaker, indeed she is. Why, it seems like every week, we got someone walking in after being rejected by her. 'Course it ain’t no fault of her own, don’t get me wrong. It’s just when you're prettier than a summer sunset, you’ll have a line of men at your door a mile long regardless of what you do.”

“I… see,” Graves nodded weakly.

The marshal had been fine through most of Red’s monologues, but the news about Rarity had come as quite a shock. In hindsight, it was obvious – after all, a girl like Rarity would certainly have no shortage of gentlemen callers – but hearing it so explicitly stated left the young man feeling unexpectedly disturbed.

“So how about you?” Red inquired, leaning in and appraising the marshal with an unexpectedly shrewd eye. “Got a special lady in your life, marshal?”

“Me?” Graves said as he drained his glass in a rather vain attempt to steady himself. " 'Course not.”

“ 'Course not?” the big man bellowed with laughter as he refilled the glass. “I'd have thought the girls would be all over you, what with you being one of those strong, silent types, and a hero to boot. Surely, you must’ve caught the eye of a lady or two?”

“Can’t say I have,” Graves smiled wryly. “They just don’t see me that way.”

Contrary to what Red might think, he wasn’t exactly popular that way with girls. Sure, he’d get along fine with them, and one or two had even tried to thank him for his marshal services by inviting him out to dinner. He’d declined of course – it’d be unbecoming to accept gifts for his duties – which oddly enough, led to considerably cooler conversations afterwards. In any case, the title of lady's man fit Graves about as well as size three heels.

“Is that right, now?” Red asked with a devilish glint in his eye. “So there’s nothing going on between you and say… a certain fashionable, young seamstress?"

For the third time, Graves began hacking like a cat with a hairball and seriously began considering if it might just be better to stop drinking altogether. But that could wait.

“What...” he managed to choke out as he stared at Red in wide-eyed disbelief, "are you talking about?”

“Aw come on, don't act all surprised,” Red answered with a sly wink. “Lot of folks have been commenting on how you two spend a lot of time together. An awful lot.”

Well of course they did. After all, she had asked him to help model her new men’s garments, so he had to be around the shop, didn’t he? And sure, they met up not uncommonly over lunch, but that was just because they both enjoyed talking about the same things. A lot of things to be sure, but that was just what people with common interests did. Right?

“I guess," the marshal wheezed, "we’re just good friends.”

“Just friends, eh?” Red intoned with obvious skepticism. “Huh. Never thought a young man like yourself could spend so much time with a pretty girl and be happy with just being friends. You sure there's nothing special going on? Nothing that's for just the two of you?"

Graves stared into his mug. Something special, just between the two of them, huh?

It didn't take much effort for his mind to wander back to the cave, the day when they'd been trapped together behind a mountain of rubble, just the two of them. Looking back, he still couldn't quite believe that he'd actually talked to her. Not just talking like people did all the time, but really... well, he didn't know how to describe it except that he'd told her things he'd never have believed would come out of his mouth. Stuff he hadn't talked about with anyone. Ever.

"Ah," the bartender intoned with a knowing smile. "I see you've thought of something."

"Maybe," Graves nodded absentmindedly as he swirled the contents of his cup, his mind still preoccupied with the oddities he'd never realized till now.

Why had he done that? Even now, he wasn't exactly sure; one minute he was fighting a twenty foot monstrosity for survival, and the next he was giving his sad backstory like a dime novel character. That always seemed to be the case with Rarity. When he was around her, he found himself doing things he'd never have dreamed of. Discussing romance novels? Male modeling? Babysitting? All things that had he been asked a year ago, would have been reciprocated with only the oddest of odd looks. Life around the violet-haired beauty was completely unpredictable and in many ways, she resembled a hurricane; the lady always managed to find some new and unexpected way to confound him.

And it made him happy. Except, that wasn't the right word. All his new Ponyville friends put a smile on his face, evident from how frequently he laughed now when compared to just a few months ago. No, with Rarity, she didn't just make him feel happy, she made him feel more... more alive. With her, everything seemed so much more vivid and real, like walking into the bright sunshine after being in a smoky, windowless room. Just being near her, hearing her laugh, seeing her smile, even watching those big sapphire eyes flash as she fretted about some detail or another just made life... better.

“In any case, I guess that means she’s still single,” Red idly commented as he returned to polishing glasses. “At least until some fellow comes along and sweeps her off her feet. I tell you, when that happens, I’ll probably be here all night, what with the number of broken hearts there’ll be. Luna have mercy, that’ll be the day.”

“Yeah," Graves agreed, a frown coming to his face.

Some day, a man would come along. Knowing Rarity, it’d probably be some fashionable noble, a prince or something at least. He’d be handsome, sophisticated and charming – quite unlike himself – and a member of the highest social circles with the utmost in grace and culture. He’d whisk her off to Canterlot where they’d wine and dine with Equestria’s elite in an elegant lifestyle befitting a graceful girl such as herself. Knowing her, it’s probably what she always dreamed of. Her perfect story.

That still didn’t mean he had to like it.

“Gah, confound it all!” Graves cried out as he drained his glass to clear his head. “Life was trouble enough before women came and made it worse.”

“YEEEAAAHHH!” A large, muscled man with a blonde crew cut abruptly called from a side table in fervent agreement just as Red doubled over with bellowing laughter.

“Hoo boy, you can say that again,” he hooted. “You can say that again."

Expanding Horizons

“Okay, that’s the last one.”

Giving the last baby bird a fond pat on the head, Fluttershy drifted back down from the tree branch, her translucent golden spell wings beating softly in their almost delicate runework frames.

“You sure do have a way with animals," Graves idly commented as he brushed downy feathers off the top of his hat. The girl with the coral pink hair just giggled as she smoothed out the front of her lilac-colored sundress.

“You do too, Mister Marshal," she smiled. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen the bears as fond of anyone as you.”

“Please,” he muttered dryly, “don’t remind me.”

As she always did at the beginning of every season, Fluttershy had gone through the neighboring woods to take a census of the animals. What this would accomplish, Graves had no idea, but things had been peaceful enough that he didn’t have much to do. Plus, the young lady had looked like she could use some help.

It had been pleasant work for the most part, a lot of bouncing bunnies bumping about, bunches of bubbly baby birds - who all seemed fond of perching atop his hat - and all other manners of other adorable little woodland creatures. The only problem was that not all newborns were so small and cuddly, as several infant bears had decided it would be great fun to wrestle with the marshal. One was fine, and two was manageable, but six? That was another story entirely.

“So, how come I rarely see you fly?” Graves asked as he knuckled the small of his back. The shy girl blushed slightly and let her light pink hair obscure her face before answering.

“Well, I was born in Cloudsdale like Rainbow Dash, so I was taught to fly from an early age. But honestly? I was never really good at it.” At this, her cheeks tinted to near the same shade as her hair. “That’s why I only wear them when I need to work with flying animals and stuff: they’re terribly heavy otherwise.”

“Makes sense to me,” Graves shrugged as he cracked his spine. Loudly.

“Oh my goodness, you’re not hurt are you?” Fluttershy asked in alarm, eyes widening as she jumped at what had sounded like snapping tree trunks.

“Meh, I’m fine,” he said offhandedly with a dismissive wave of the hand. “Just a little sore. Not exactly used to bear wrangling.”

“You are? I’m so sorry,” Fluttershy whimpered, looking like she was about to burst into tears. “If I had known that this would happen, I would never have… would never…”

“I told you, it’s fine,” Graves repeated hastily in even greater alarm than her; the last thing he wanted was for the shy girl to begin sobbing over nothing. “It’s just a little stiff: a good night’s sleep, and it’ll be all better.”

“… Really?” she sniffed, now only looking upset instead of abjectly forlorn. The young man nodded and gave his most convincing smile, which in retrospect, probably didn’t help. He still wasn’t very good at the whole reassuring thing.

“Well, if you say so,” Fluttershy smiled faintly, then suddenly, very, very broadly indeed. “Ooh! But instead of waiting for it to get better, what if I helped make it better right now?”

Graves blinked.

“Come again?" Before he could figure out heads from tails, Fluttershy seized him by the arm and took off, flying with a force that made him very dubious of her ‘weak flyer’ story.

The formerly hesitant girl now dragged the young marshal through the town square, getting not just a few odd looks as they passed. Fortunately, nobody watched long enough to see them arrive at the final destination: Graves probably couldn’t have taken that.

“No. Absolutely not,” the young man said, eyes glued in disbelief to the building before him.

“But you really should,” Fluttershy pressed on earnestly. “It will make you feel a lot better afterwards.”

“That may be so,” he admitted with great reticence, “but… the spa? Really?”

The demure, young lady just squeed in delight as she flushed another delicate shade of pink.

“Well, I thought that it would help your back feel better. And I’ve been meaning to go myself recently, but I couldn’t find anyone to go with me, so…”

Ah, so that’s what it was.

Graves really wanted to say no. There were lots of things he was willing to put up with, but walking into a beauty salon to get a pedicure? He’d rather go back, call the baby bears several unpleasant names, and then wrestle the mama after taking a dip in brown gravy.

But Fluttershy had brought him here out of good intentions - well, good enough at least - and refusing might send her into tears again. Besides, the way she was looking up at him with big, hopeful pony eyes that could have put any of the Cutie Mark Crusaders to shame, well…

He sighed, a deep, heavy sigh of weary defeat.

“Not one word of this. To anyone. Clear?”

Fluttershy just squeed and dragged the young man in.

The sun was already on its way down the horizon by the time the two came out. Between the full body massages, saunas, seaweed wraps, mud baths, and hair styling, it wasn’t surprising to see so much time had passed.

“So? What did you think?” Fluttershy smiled, her face positively glowing after the luxurious treatment. Graves glanced down at her, and then looked straight ahead once more, his face stern and impassive as usual despite his newly acquired glow: exfoliating skin treatment for the first time since, well… since ever, would really do that.

“It was… fine,” he mumbled, a faint touch of red coming to his face. While distinctly odd, he couldn’t say that the whole experience had exactly been unpleasant. Of course, the first hour or so and definitely been absolutely awful; apparently, his muscles had been so tense, that Vera had to resort to using a pair of hammers to work out what seemed to be knots in his knots in still larger knots. But after it was all over, the rest had been a marked improvement. A definitely marked improvement.

“In that case, I’m glad it wasn’t totally a waste of time for you,” she giggled, her tone much too innocent to be anything but teasing. “But since you don’t really like it, I won’t bother you by inviting you next time I want to go.”

“Well, you don’t need to go that far,” Graves interjected as he awkwardly scratched his head: it felt oddly light now that he’d been relieved of so much of his hair. “I mean, if it’s just on occasion, that'd be fine. Just to keep you company, you know.”

Of course that’s all it was. It’s not like he actually liked going to the spa or anything. And so what if and he now felt more refreshed and more relaxed than he had in years? That just meant he’d be able to do his job more easily and be a better marshal. Of course. That’s all there was to it.

Fluttershy was no fool, though, and merely chuckled as the marshal stiffly kept his gaze forward while his cheeks grew even hotter.

As they rounded the corner into the town square, the two of them came across Rarity, arms laden with bags as she returned from a shopping trip.

“Graves! Fluttershy!” the violet-haired girl called with a smile, “How are you today?” Fluttershy smiled as she rushed forward and gave her friend a quick hug.

“We’re doing very well, Rarity. We’re just on our way back from… taking care of the animals,” she finished with a sheepish grin as the marshal shot her a sharp warning glare. There was teasing, and then there were just cheap shots.

“That certainly sounds like a wonderful time,” the seamstress nodded. “Would you like to stop by my shop for afternoon tea?”

“Oh, I’d love to,” Fluttershy grinned apologetically, “but I have to go home and feed Angel. You know how he gets when he’s hungry.”

“But of course,” Rarity nodded as she returned a wry look: Opal could be just as bad, if not worse. “Well, I won’t keep you then. Say hello to the animals for me.”

“Will do. Bye!” With that, the kindly girl activated her spell wings and took off, gracefully sailing off into the sky and leaving her two friends behind.

“Need any help with your bags?” Graves asked as he turned to the pretty, young lady next to him.

“Why, thank you!” Rarity smiled graciously as she handed him several parcels. “I trust you won’t turn down my invitation as well? Tea is always more enjoyable with company.”

“I’m in no rush,” Graves shrugged as casually as he could despite the sudden thrill that arose upon hearing those words. He tamped that down quickly however, as it was just silly to get so excited over tea. Honestly, all that fancy spa stuff must have knocked a screw loose. Maybe two.

As the marshal and the seamstress headed back towards the dress shop, Rarity glanced up at the marshal and smiled.

“So, I take it you had fun working with the animals?” she asked with a sly smile.

“Pretty interesting,” he replied in his typical, gravelly rumble. “It was an experience.”

“A good one I’d gather, considering how you’re positively shining at the moment.”

Graves almost tripped at those words. Curses, how could he have forgotten? With that keen eye for detail, there’d be no way Rarity would overlook such obvious signs of his most recent excursion. He scrambled to find an answer.

“Really? Hadn’t noticed,” he lamely responded and surreptitiously turned to face the other way. She couldn’t see the badly concealed nerves on his face, but neither could he see her very knowing and amused smile.

“I see,” she grinned. “And I suppose you also didn’t notice someone had trimmed your coiffure?”

“Guess not,” he finished weakly.

“Well I did, and I must say, it looks splendid,” she smiled warmly as she reached up to touch his jet-black hair. “I do wish they’d shortened your bangs so I could see your eyes better. But, I guess they do give you a certain mysterious charm. Plus, do you look good with a bit of length to your mane.”

If Graves could have seen the grin on his face right then, he’d have slapped himself for being such an air-headed spring chicken. Or maybe not. He was also quite busy filing that piece of information away for posterity. Just because. Not like he had any particular reason to remember the young beauty next to him liked longer hair. Nope, no reason at all.

“And one more thing, if I may?” Rarity smiled, her sapphire eyes sparkling as she looked. He turned to her, his gunmetal grays giving her full attention.

“What’s that?”

“… You might want to ease off on the strawberry-cream conditioner. It’s quite… obvious, if you know what I mean.”

"…”

“…”

“… I’ll keep that in mind.”

Rarity couldn’t hold it in any longer and burst out into her musical laughter as Graves blushed a deep crimson once more.

And yet, strangely for once, he really didn’t mind.

In Need of Sound Advice

“Er, can I help ya, sugarcube?

As Applejack stood in the barn, pitchfork ready to toss another bale of hay, the freckled cowgirl noticed that her little sister was behaving mighty peculiarly. In a very uncharacteristic manner, Apple Bloom just stood there, not saying a word as she stared at her sister with considering eyes and a slightly pensive frown.

Apparently, the answer was no because the little girl simply sighed, drooped her head, and trudged out of the barn.

“Uh, alright then,” Applejack called out, completely perplexed. “Glad I could help.”

Apple Bloom’s posture didn’t improve much as she aimlessly shuffled into Ponyville. She was in a bind. A conundrum, if you will, and daresay even a right pickle of a problem.

See, the littlest Apple had a sort of… issue that had been bothering her recently. Fortunately, it wasn’t one of those “Sweet mother of Discord, Ponyville is going to be destroyed” issues, thank Celestia. Rather, it was one of those things that just sort of bothers you, like an itch you can’t scratch and the only solution is to talk to somebody about it.

Problem was, Apple Bloom didn’t exactly know who to talk to. On personal questions like this one, she’d usually just go and ask Applejack. However, this seemed to be one case where she couldn’t do it without hurting her big sister’s feelings. Her big brother was nice and all, but he wasn’t exactly one for conversation, and Granny Smith would probably just launch into a hit-or-miss story about the old days: probably miss. That just left Sweetie Belle and Scootaloo, her fellow Crusaders and best friends. Only, she couldn’t talk to them because, well… they were sort of part of the problem.

And so she wandered, idly kicking a pebble along as she tried to figure out what to do about her predicament.

“Maybe Twilight could help me,” she thought aloud. “Eh, nah. She’d probably jess point me tah one o’ them big ol’ books that never makes much sense anyhow. Hmm. Rainbow Dash? Maybe not; she’d never understand what I’m talkin’ about anyways. Pinkie Pie?” Apple Bloom stopped and blinked. “… Why’d I even think that?”

Kicking the stone again, the small rock bounced away erratically, which prompted the bow-bedecked girl to chase after it. Once she caught up, however, it wasn’t the pebble that held her attention, but the place it had landed.

“Of course!” she grinned and slapped her forehead. “Why didn’t ah think ah this before?”

Graves was seated at his kitchen table, a cleaning rag in one hand and bottle of solution in the other when a series of quick knocks from his front door drew his attention.

“Come in,” he called. The hinges creaked as a large, pink bow popped through the crack, followed by the cherry-colored head of a somewhat nervously smiling Apple Bloom.

“Hey there, Mister Graves,” she greeted as she edged in through the door. “Are you busy?”

“Not really,” he shrugged as he dabbed the cloth with liquid. “What can I do for you?”

“Well,” the little girl began, shuffling from foot to foot in a self-conscious manner. “It’s nothin’ important. Ah was just hopin’ that maybe I could, you know, ask you somethin’?” The marshal’s silvery-grey eyes met her big, hopeful ones. He smiled. Hardly more than a slight, upward curve of the mouth, but a smile nonetheless as he gestured to the open space across from him.

“Pull up a seat. Let’s hear it.”

Grinning from ear to ear, Apple Bloom bounded across the room and hopped onto the proffered chair. However, just as she opened her mouth to begin, her childishly short attention span was waylaid by an incredible and unexpected sight.

“Whoa,” she gasped as she stared at the kitchen table. “What’s that?”

Obviously, she wasn’t commenting on the table itself, which by and large was a very nice, but ordinary everyday table. Rather, what had caught her wide-eyed attention was the vast assortment of odd items strewn across its surface. Pieces of metal ranging in colors from bronze to gold to iron grey, carved glowing crystals, sparkling gemstones, and chunks of age-worn wood lay spread out in a precise grid across the table’s surface.

“That?” Graves repeated as he picked up a shining silver spinel and began polishing its glittering facets. “That’s my spell gun.”

“Whu?” Apple Bloom gaped before returning to stare at the table. There was a long tube of metal that looked sort of familiar, and the big chunk of wood kind of resembled the bottom half of the gun, but everything else? That was just crazy.

“But I thought that your spell gun was important,” the little girl asked in dismay. “Why’d you go and break it?”

“It is important,” the marshal agreed as he held the stone up to the light. “That’s why I’m taking care of it.”

“By bustin’ it up inta little pieces?” she frowned.

“By cleaning it.”

“Ooohh, that makes more sense,” the little girl nodded as she finally caught on. “But shoot, with so many bits tah worry about, how’re you ever gonna put it back together again?”

Graves looked down at the pink-bowed girl and rather than answering her, showed her. With the ease of countless repetitions of practice, the marshal’s hands flew across the table and quickly reassembled the rifle. Gemstones were encased in rune-engraved crystal casings. Casings were mounted in lattice frames of gold and bronze. Frames were housed in the solid iron and steel shell, which he joined with stock, handle, and barrel. Everything clicked into place like a massive puzzle till mere moments later, the cleaned and polished rifle was fully reassembled in his hands.

“Wooooooow,” Apple Bloom gasped in awe. “That was amazin’! You were faster ‘n Big Macintosh hogtyin’ a piglet!”

“It’s nothing,” Graves replied, trying to act nonchalant despite the faint flush of pride in his face. “Basic training for all marshals. Don’t even teach us magic till we can do it in our sleep.”

“Really? That much work before you can even learn any of the good stuff?” When the young soldier nodded his head in assent, Apple Bloom’s eyes narrowed with sharp-eyed intent. “So I guess that means you know a good bit about magic then, don’t yah?”

“A bit,” he agreed hesitantly as he caught sight of the child’s very focused gaze. “Twilight knows a lot more though.”

“Yeah, but she’s too hard to understand, what with her fancy learnin’ an’ all,” the child dismissed. “I jess need someone who can explain it plain.”

“I see,” Graves murmured. “And you figured I’d be good to ask.” From her very large grin and wide eyes shining with anticipation, he would garner that as a yes. “Well… alright then,” he agreed, folding his arms and settling into his seat. “What exactly did you want to know?”

“Everythin'!” she gushed. At the sight of her eagerness, the marshal couldn't help but let out a small chuckle.

“That’s a lot to cover,” he rumbled. "Might wanna narrow it down a bit.”

“Oh, right,” Apple Bloom said with a sheepish smile. “Alright then. Um… Okay, let’s start at the beginnin’ then. How exactly does magic work?”

“How does it work?” Graves repeated.

“Yeah,” the little girl nodded. “Like, you point your gun at somethin’, pull the trigger, and ‘boom’, fire n’ brimstone comes spittin’ out the other end. How’d you make that happen?”

“Ah, I see,” the marshal nodded, finally understanding. “Well, the first thing you do is draw in the energy.”

“Draw it in?” Apple Bloom asked in cockeyed confusion. “You mean like a bucket o’ water?”

“Something like that,” Graves nodded. “Some creatures like dragons, phoenix, unicorns, etcetera, have innate magical energy. People don’t. Instead, we take in energy that exists in nature like, as you said, drawing a bucket of water. When we have enough, we channel it out in what’s known as magic.”

“That’s it?” the little girl asked dubiously. “That seems awful easy.”

“How it works is easy,“ Graves agreed, “but making it work’s a whole other story. See, moving that energy’s not exactly a walk in the park. The stuff’s almost got a mind of its own, and to make it do what you want, you have to have to control it. Most often that’s done with spells or runes, things that help you concentrate and direct the energy into how you want it to work.”

“But you don’t do that,” Apple Bloom pointed out. “You just point n’ shoot.”

“That's because I’ve practiced a few spells a lot. It’s like memorizing something. Do it enough and it’ll stick.”

“So, if I practice a lot and work real hard,” the pink-bowed girl continued, “does that mean I’ll be able to shoot lightnin’ like you do?”

“Depends,” Graves answered as thumbed his nose. “You a burst or aura user?”

“… Huh?”

“You do know what those are… don’t you?” Apple Bloom’s blank stare was answer enough.

“Ah. I see.” Looks like he was going to have to backtrack even further.

“So there are two types of magic, burst and aura," Graves began. "Burst is when you gather energy and release it all at once for spells: that’s what people like Twilight and me do. Aura’s the other, where you constantly release energy to power magic artifacts, like how Rainbow Dash runs her spell wings.”

“So how do you find out which one you are?” the little girl pressed on.

“That’s the easy part,” the marshal answered. “Magic runs in the family, so there's a good chance that whatever your parents or grandparents could do is what you'll be able to do as well.”

“Then…” here Apple Bloom paused, unsure of how to continue. “What if nobody in your family can do it? What then?”

“Well, it’s possible for magic to skip a few generations, but…” Graves paused as well, uncertain of how to break the news. “Magic is something you’re born with. If you don’t have it, you just… don’t.”

Apple Bloom blinked.

“Oh.”

That was it. No protests, no complaints, no loud rants. Just a little “oh,” like the last puff of air from a deflating balloon.

“Are… you alright?” the marshal tentatively asked. Apple Bloom shook her head.

“You wanna talk about it?” he offered. Apple Bloom nodded.

“It’s just not fair,” she pouted as her big eyes began brimming with tears. “Sweetie Belle’s already learnin’ her first spells from Rarity, and Scootaloo’s gettin’ flyin’ lessons from Rainbow Dash. I mean, they’re not that good yet, but one day they’re both gonna be able to do some really neat things. So why is it that they get to be all special, while I’m just… not?”

Ah, there it was.

Despite all her questions, Apple Bloom probably didn’t really didn’t care about whether or not she could use magic; she just wanted to know why, when compared to her friends, she had to be the ordinary one.

Graves leaned forward onto the table, his brow furrowed in thought. He, like most adults, had gone through a stage where he’d asked the same thing. Question was, how could he use that to help the little bundle of dejection sitting before him? He was no expert at talking to kids, and just telling her the answer probably wouldn’t solve a thing; after all, when did kids ever listen to a thing you told them? No, just saying it wouldn’t work. He needed something different, something to help her get to the conclusion herself. Something…

… something, he realized in a sudden moment of clarity, a lot like what Rarity had once done to him. Would it work? Fail, and it could all blow up horribly in his face, though he was reasonably sure it wouldn’t. Was it worth taking the chance? A second look at the little girl, who looked so forlorn that even her bow seemed to wilt, quickly answered that question.

“Come on Apple Bloom ,” Graves said with his most encouraging smile. “Just because you can’t you use magic, doesn’t mean you’re not special.”

“Yeah, sure,” Apple Bloom said sulkily. That was just what Applejack would have said.

“No,” the marshal continued, his smile now taking on an impish color. “You’re not special because you’re a girl.”

Pause.

“… Say what?!”

“It’s true,” Graves continued as he gave her his most obnoxiously condescending smile, which was really quite obnoxiously condescending indeed. “Sure, magic and stuff makes them more special than you, but that’s molehills to mountains when you figure that you’re all girls anyways.”

“And jess what is that supposed to mean?” Apple Bloom challenged, the heat clearly rising in her voice as she confronted the silver-eye soldier who replied with the utmost of cool aplomb.

“Simple. Guys are just better than girls.”

“They are not!” the little girl shot back, which prompted Graves to arch an eyebrow in question.

“No? Then tell me. Who’s the strongest person in your family?”

“Well… Big Macintosh is,” Apple Bloom admitted reluctantly.

“And who does the most work on the farm?”

“Big Macintosh,” she conceded again.

“And who’s the one that takes care of all the business for the farm too?”

“That would be Big Macintosh,” Apple Bloom admitted once more. Applejack just didn’t have a head for numbers, which is why her older brother was the one who dealt with all the ‘fancy mathematics’.

“See?” Graves smirked. “Guys are just bigger, stronger, smarter, and overall better than girls in every way, and that’s what makes us special.”

“That… that’s the biggest load ah hooey I’ve ever heard!” the little girl sputtered. “So what if Big Mac does all those things? There’s plenty ah things girls can do better ‘n guys!” The marshal simply sniffed.

“I don’t believe you.”

“It’s true!” she cried out in pure exasperation. “Granny Smith’s the best cook ever, and nobody can ride a buckin’ bronco like Applejack! Just because they don’t do the same thing doesn’t mean Big Macintosh or any guy’s better or any more special! They’re just different!”

Graves said nothing as Apple Bloom stood in her seat, hands braced on the table as she positively bristled in the aftermath of her forceful tirade. And that’s when the marshal smiled, not a mocking grin or an obnoxious smirk, but the slow, easy smile that always appeared after a job well done.

“Now,” he began in his usual calm, gravelly tones, “take what you just said, replace it with magic, and say it again.”

The bow-bedecked child just blinked, somewhat thrown off by the sudden change in tone. It took a bit, but after a few moments, the light of realization dawned.

“Ooooooooooohhhhhhhh.”

“Figure something out?” Graves grinned as silver grey eyes flashed in amusement. The litle girl nodded, brow knit as she worked to put her sudden epiphany into words.

“I think so... Basically, what yer sayin’ is–”

“Uh uh,” the marshal halted. “I never said anything. That was you.”

“Right,” Apple Bloom grinned. “So, the point was, jess because someone else can do something I can’t, doesn’t make ‘em more special ‘n me. It jess makes ‘em different. Right?” Graves chuckled.

“You catch on pretty quick.”

“But, why didn’t you jess tell me that in the first place?” the ruby-haired girl asked. “It woulda save you a lot of time, you know.”

“True,” the marshal nodded. “But if I’d told you, would you have listened?”

“Er… probably not,” Apple Bloom confessed with a sheepish grin. Graves just smiled.

“So, feeling better about yourself?” the young soldier inquired, which got a bright smile in response.

“Yup! Heaps better, Mister Graves. Thanks!” At that, the little girl jumped up and grabbed the marshal around the waist in a tight hug. He froze for a moment, unsure of what to do, but eventually settled for awkwardly patting her on her pink-bowed head. Her smile just grew bigger.

“Well, I gotta run now,” Apple Bloom called, instantly releasing him and bounding for the door. “Sweetie Belle and Scoot both got a head start on me, so I gotta figure out what makes me special – er, different – and quick. Who knows, maybe it’ll even help me get my cutie mark!”

“Sounds good,” Graves nodded. “You go do that.” And with one last big, beaming look back, Apple Bloom leaped out the door, with considerably more pep in her step than when she’d entered, and took off.

From where he sat, Graves just smiled, a chuckle forming deep in his chest. She’d probably known the answer all along. It had just taken a little antagonism and a little nudge from an unexpected direction to make her realize it. Rarity would have approved.

“Kids,” he murmured to himself with a fond little smile. “Nothing but a heap of trouble.”

Shrinking

“Got any threes?”

“Go fish. Got any eights?”

“Go fish.”

It was one of those wonderfully lazy summer mornings where perfect weather plus a free schedule meant you could spend the entire day doing the best possible thing: absolutely nothing.

Applejack and Pinkie Pie were playing a slow game of Go Fish while Fluttershy watched and cheered both sides. Not that Go Fish really needed much cheering mind you, which made her enthusiastically inaudible “yays” the perfect sort of support. Rainbow Dash watched as well from her overhead tree branch perch, but her drooping eyelids clearly indicated a nap was quickly taking priority.

“So what do y’all wanna do today?” Applejack asked as she drew another card.

“I’m fine with anything,” Pinkie Pie grinned: she was always up for anything. “Got any twos?”

“How about a nice picnic in the park?” Fluttershy suggested.

“Works for me,” Rainbow Dash mumbled sleepily, “long as I get to stay right here.”

“But, Rainbow Dash,” Fluttershy hesitantly asked, “how can you have a picnic in the park if you don’t actually go to the–”

Whatever the shy girl was about to stay was promptly forgotten as she saw an incredibly unusual sight. Rarity was running. And not just running, but straight up sprinting across the town square, her white sundress hiked to her knees and violet hair streaming behind her as she dashed ahead with a large bag at her side.

“Whoa there, Rarity,” Applejack called out, “Why’re you haulin’ tail like a cat at a dog show?”

“Sorry, girls, no time to talk,” the seamstress called out without breaking stride, “Twilight’s called me in to deal with an emergency.”

“An emergency?” Fluttershy called out in alarm. “Oh my goodness, is someone hurt?”

“Worse,” Rarity called back, her voice growing fainter with the distance. “It’s an emergency of fashion!”

As the pretty seamstress disappeared around the corner on her way to the library, the four girls looked at each other, card games and naps immediately forgotten.

“Twilight? Worrying about clothes?” Rainbow Dash scoffed. “This I gotta see.”

Running after their harried friend, the four girls found her pounding on the front door of the library. Odd: the door was never locked at this time of day.

“Twilight, darling, are you there?” Rarity called out, sounding quite vexed. “Open up!”

“Hiya, Rarity!” Pinkie Pie smiled, seemingly oblivious to her friend’s concerns. “What’s going on?”

“I honestly have no idea,” Rarity huffed. “All I know is that Spike comes by the shop and tells me Twilight needs me to come by with my tools and some fabric.”

“So… how do you know it’s an emergency?” Applejack asked, obviously unconvinced. Rarity replied with an exasperated sigh.

“Applejack, please. If Twilight wanted a new outfit, she could always have stopped by. But asking me to come over so she wouldn’t have to be seen in public? What else could it be?”

The four other girls looked at each other: it did make a weird sort of sense.

Just then, they heard the sound of a sliding bolt and the front door opened a crack, revealing a very anxious looking Twilight Sparkle on the other side.

“Rarity, you’re here!” she breathed out in relief, pulling a stray strand of purple and pink hair behind her ear. “This is good. If you could just come on in and close the door behind you–”

It was only then that she caught sight of the other four. She froze.

“... Hey girls…” she said slowly as an attempted casual smile failed miserably. “What brings you all here?”

“Well, we heard there was an emergency, so we came by to see if you needed help,” Fluttershy murmured. “That is, if you don’t mind.”

“Oh, it’s nothing,” Twilight laughed awkwardly with a wave of the hand. “Don’t worry about it: everything’s under control.”

Applejack, Rainbow Dash, and Pinkie Pie glanced at each other, shared a knowing look, and nodded. Before Twilight knew what hit her, all three pushed open the door and walked inside.

“Hey, what are you doing?” Twilight cried out in alarm.

“We’re your friends, sugar cube,” Applejack smiled as she put a consoling hand on the shell-shocked librarian’s shoulder. “If you’re in trouble, you know you can always come to us.”

“Trouble? What trouble? Who says I’m in trouble? I’m not in trouble. No trouble here,” Twilight babbled, a strange twitch appearing around her eye as she laughed again.

“Uh, Twi? No offense, but you’ve kind of got that whole, ‘two minutes till I go completely bonkers’ look,” Rainbow Dash grimaced. “You know, the one you got right before you started the Smarty-Pants Riot?”

“So before you go loco en el coco, we’re gonna help you fix your problems,” Pinkie Pie grinned, “and then we can all go back to Sugar Cube Corners for a party and celebrate! So, what’s going on? Is Discord on the loose again? Parasprites come back to town? Another late homework assignment? No problem’s a problem ‘cause we’re here to fix it!”

Eyes widening, Twilight Sparkle looked from one girl to another, trying to find some way out. But between all those supportive, eager-to-help expressions, what could she really do?

“All right,” she wearily sighed as she got out of the doorway so that the somewhat dazed Rarity and Fluttershy could enter as well. “I do have sort of a teensy, tiny, little bit of a problem.”

“Well, what is it, darling?” Rarity asked, already unpacking her bags and organizing various mini-bolts of fabric across the table. “Just say the word and we’re ready to help.”

“Hey, Twilight, I got him dressed like you asked,” Spike called from the top of the stairs. “It’s still pretty big, but it was the best I could find.” All eyes went to the second floor.

Spike, in his usual purple windbreaker and pants, came walking down the stairs followed by another, even smaller, black-haired boy. Probably six years old at most, the small child was dressed in one of Spike’s green T-shirts which hung down well past the knees of his tiny frame.

“Aw, he’s so cute!” Fluttershy cooed as the child finally stumbled down the stairs. “I didn’t know you had more little brothers, Twilight.”

“I don’t,” the frazzled librarian sighed.

“Ooh, ooh, if he’s not yours, can I have him?” Pinkie Pie asked, practically bouncing off the walls in excitement. “I’ve always wanted a little brother, and he’d be so perfect!”

“Only if you let me dress him up,” Rarity squealed in delight. “Why, when I’m done with him, this little darling will look absolutely adorable!”

“Ugh, great,” Rainbow Dash gagged. “I miss a perfectly good nap to watch you all make goo-goo faces at some random kid.”

“You think that’s bad?” the little boy said, his tone childishly high yet oddly flat as he gave her a level look with his big, gunmetal grey eyes. “Try the receiving end. Trust me: it’s a whole lot worse.”

Rainbow Dash blinked, and all the other girls save Twilight did as well. That voice. Not the voice itself, but the words, the attitude, and the delivery all seemed strangely familiar.

“Pardon me,” Rarity began, squatting down so she could speak to the child at eye level. “This may seem like an odd question, but have we met before? I would swear we haven’t, but it feels like I already know you.”

“Rarity, really?” the little boy said with an incredulous look. “I save you from a landslide, and you still can’t recognize me?”

The young lady gaped, and the other girls save Twilight did as well. No way. It couldn’t be. It was impossible!

“… Graves?" Rarity gasped. "Is that you?!”

Chapter 2

The little boy just sighed, his deadpan expression completely out of sync with his otherwise cherubic face.

“Took you long enough.”

“But... What…? How…? I mean… You... You’re tiny!” Pinkie Pie cried out as the recent revelation exploded inside her head and causing her eyes to bulge like a ballooning bullfrog.

“So it would seem,” Graves shrugged, the oversized T-shirt slipping off one little shoulder as he did. “I shrank. Or de-aged. Something like that.”

“Well I’ll be,” Applejack breathed in disbelief. “If that don’t jess beat all. Why, yer no bigger 'n knee-high to a grasshopper!”

“Yeah, you’re puny!” Rainbow Dash snickered, walking over so she could pat him on the head. “I guess I should stop calling you Big G, and start calling you Baby G!”

“I’d appreciate it if you didn’t,” the mini marshal grimaced, his childish voice doing nothing to lend his request weight. Naturally, the tomboy simply ignored him and continued patting his head, grinning like the Cheshire cat as if his noggin were an immensely amusing bouncy ball.

“Oh, please don’t do that,” Fluttershy pleaded as she fidgeted behind the cyan flier. “You need to be gentle with small creatures: they don’t like it when you hit them.”

“So I’m a small creature now,” the little boy muttered darkly. “Great.”

“Marshal, you know Fluttershy didn’t mean anything by that,” Rarity smiled as she swatted Rainbow Dash’s offending hand away. “I think we’re all just a little taken aback at your… dramatic makeover.”

“Yeah, how’d it happen anyway?” Pinkie Pie asked, literally bouncing in curiosity. “Last time we saw you, you were old, and I’ve never heard of an old person getting un-olded before. Hmm, un-olded. Is that a word? Olded? Un-olded? Olded? Un-olded?”

“I’ll let Twilight answer that,” Graves interjected before the tangent-prone baker could build up momentum. “Miss Sparkle, if you would?” The sweater-vested girl grinned sheepishly.

“Yeah, so it seems like I kind of maybe, possibly turned the marshal into a little kid. It was all by accident, of course,” she hastily added.

“Accident?” Applejack repeated. “Well how in tarnation do you ‘accidentally’ turn somebody into a little kid?”

“Well, it’s actually kind of a funny story…”

Earlier that Day:

“Twilight? You wanted to see me?”

“Graves! You made it!” the young librarian beamed as she flew around the room jotting notes, grabbing books, and mixing potions. “Thank you so much for coming today! I really needed your help with an experiment.”

“Er, what kind of experiment?” the marshal asked hesitantly. He hadn’t had many encounters with magical research and development, but the ones he had had been… interesting to say the least.

“Well, a while back,” she began, now tweaking a beaker that gave off sparkling purple smoke, “I found one of Starswirl the Bearded’s spells for time travel. Problem was, it only let you travel back for less than a minute, and even then, it could only be used once.”

“Okay…”

“That got me to thinking: was there a way to improve the spell? You know, make it last longer, multiple uses, those kinds of things. So I got to experimenting and I think I may have done it!”

“Great. So what do you need me for?” Graves asked, the hairs on the back of his neck starting to tingle. Twilight’s hesitant smile did nothing to assuage his worries.

“Okay, hear me out on this,” she said cautiously. “I’ve already used the spell, and I haven’t quite figured out the multi-use part yet. Spike’s a Salamander, which means he’s too magically resistant for a test run. So–”

“You want to use me as a guinea pig,” the marshal sighed wearily. Of course. He should have known.

“Please?” the little bookworm begged, her eyes big and sparkly with pleading intent. “I’m 99.8% sure that it’s safe, and I’m 99.995% sure that if anything happens, I can reverse it: it’s an experiment, so I’m only conducting it with a low level power, which is why I can’t use Spike.”

“So you decided to ask me?” he asked incredulously, the precision of her odds making him even warier than before.

“I need someone who can tell me how it went,” she smiled, a faint blush in her cheeks, “and I thought that a tough, ready-for-anything marshal would be the best bet?”

Graves almost smiled at that: compliments to butter him up. Still, regardless of ill-attempted flattery or not, he did owe her: after all, it had been Twilight who’d magically levitated the entire landslide out of the way to extract Rarity and him from the cave. And besides, refusing a girl with more raw power than any spell caster, shaman, or sorcerer in the last thousand years - minus a couple of princesses of course - was probably not the best idea.

“Only once, right?” he finally agreed, already sure he was going to regret his decision.

“Yes! Oh thank you thank you thank you!” Twilight squealed as she jumped around clapping her hands in delight. “Okay, you just stay there: I’ll get everything ready and we’ll get going right away!”

With a wave of her wand, an amethyst glow appeared on the ground and magic runes and circles began to form. The same lilac aura surrounded the various beakers of potion as they further traced the lines on the floor in magical brew.

“Okay, so here’s what’s going to happen,” Twilight announced while flipping through her notes. “I’m going to send you back in time sixteen minutes: I’ve also added in a teleportation spell so you end up on the second floor. Spike’s been up there all morning, so he’ll be there to take notes on anything you notice in transit. Any questions?”

“Just one,” Graves said. “Why sixteen?”

“Time seems to like multiples of twos,” Twilight shrugged. “Can’t say why.”

“Huh. Well I’ll be.”

“Alright, so are we ready to go?” the young librarian eagerly asked. The marshal sighed.

“Ready as I’ll ever be.”

“Great! Then here we go!”

Violet lightning crackled around Twilight as she began charging energy for the task. The runes on the ground began to glow, each arcane symbols shining with a different color till the whole room glowed like a rainbow. The humming of contained power grew to a deafening pitch till finally, eyes glowing with pure white light, Twilight unleashed the spell.

One blinding flash later, and Graves was gone. It’s important to note however, that this quite literally meant that only the marshal was gone, meaning he had left behind some rather important souvenirs.

“Oh boy, I think I might have missed something,” Twilight grimaced as she picked up the marshal’s hat and pants from where they lay on the floor. “This was definitely not supposed to happen.”

“Uh, Twilight?” Spikes voice called from the top of the stairs, “You said Graves was coming over to help you out, right?”

“Yeah? Why?” she called back as a sinkhole quickly formed in the pit of her stomach.

“… I think you’re gonna wanna see this for yourself.”

Present:

“Which brings us to here and now,” Twilight finished. “Or at least, until I sent Spike over to Rarity’s. Then you guys show up. So I guess it does take us right to now.”

“I still don’t get it,” Applejack interjected with brow furrowed in confusion. “How’d yeh go get a time travel spell to turn the marshal into a little kid?”

“Well, Applejack,” Twilight began, unable to resist giving a lecture despite the circumstance, “I believe it has something to do with the runes I used. A small transcription error translated sixteen minutes into sixteen years, and by using the subjunctive on the line on Conjuring and Conflux instead of the indicative, I temporally altered his physical form instead of physically altering his temporal status.”

“… So, in English?” Applejack asked again. Twilight sighed.

“I messed up the spell and time got all… wobbly. So, Graves is now a little kid.” The other girls stood around, just blinking, till Rainbow Dash finally shrugged.

“Meh, works for me.”

“Well, what do we do now?” Fluttershy asked Twilight, though the little boy drew her eyes like a lodestone drew iron dust: her love of all things small and adorable was making it very hard to concentrate. “I mean, Mister Graves is very cute and all, but I doubt he wants to stay like this and have to grow up a second time.”

“Go through puberty twice?” the marshal shuddered. “No thanks.”

“Don’t worry, you won’t have to,” the librarian assured him, flicking her wand and summoning over half a dozen texts that she seemed to be reading simultaneously. “It’ll take a bit of doing, but I should be able to rewrite the spell and completely reverse it, bringing you back to your normal age.”

“And… how long's that gonna take?” Spike asked dubiously: he knew where he’d be through the entire process.

“A few hours at most,” Twilight answered as she waved her wand again and began mixing various levitating bottles of potion. “If all goes according to plan – and it should this time – I’ll have the reversal spell ready by this afternoon.”

“Great,” Graves nodded, his shirt almost slipping off again. “What do I do till then?”

“Ooh, ooh, pick me! Pick me!” Pinkie Pie called out as she frantically waved her arm in the air. Twilight just gave her a curious look.

“Um… okay. Pinkie?”

“How about we babysit him for you?” she grinned, her smile splitting her face like a kung fu chop to a ripe coconut. “We could totally take Baby G around town and keep him out of trouble while you work!”

At first, everyone joined in staring at Pinkie Pie as they always did when she went off on one of her crazy tangents. However, one by one the girls all broke out into the same, mischievous smiles as they each caught on to the idea.

“First, don’t call me that,” the little boy grimaced, oblivious to the grins passing above his head: he wasn’t used to having to look up to people. “And second, I’m older than you: I can take care of myself.”

“You were older than us,” Rarity corrected as she schooled her face into a serene smile. “And as odd as that was to say, since you are currently a child, I’m afraid you will have to be treated as such.”

“What?” Graves sputtered, though it came out more like a squeak, “but… you know me: I don’t need a babysitter!”

“Normally, I’d believe yeh,” Applejack nodded, her grin now tweaked to look just slightly apologetic, “but it’d just break mah heart if we let such a cute little feller like you run off 'n get hurt.”

“Oh my, yes,” Fluttershy agreed in a tone suitable for placating newborns, “We wouldn’t want you to get any bumpy wumpies on your adowable widdle head, now would we?”

“Yeah, totally,” Rainbow Dash snorted, “bumpy wumpies on your… adowable…widdle…” the cyan flyer couldn’t contain it anymore and burst out into peals of raucous laughter.

This was the straw that broke the camel’s back. Unable to contain themselves any more, the other four girls all burst out into side splitting laughter as well. Graves just stared at them – tears streaming and sides clutched – as shock spread all over his ‘adowable’ little face.

“I don’t believe this,” he gaped. “You’re actually enjoying this.”

“Aw, it’s not like that, sugar cube,” Applejack wheezed in a very unconvincing manner. “We jess figured that given a mighty peculiar situation like this, we might as well have fun with it.”

“Depends on what you mean by fun,” the mini marshal muttered sullenly, which simply prompted Fluttershy to pick him up in a big, squishy hug.

“Well it looks like somebody’s getting grumpy wumpy,” she cooed in the same infantile tone as before. “Maybe you should take a nap before we go play, hmm?”

“No!” Graves screeched, tiny arms flailing as he futilely fought to escape Fluttershy’s expertly inescapable embrace. “No nap times, no babysitting, no nothing! You can’t do this to me!”

“So where should we take the little guy first?” Rainbow Dash asked, completely ignoring the little boy’s protests.

“Ooh, can we go to my boutique?” Rarity jumped in eagerly. “This is the perfect opportunity to try out my hand at making children’s clothes, and I have the perfect idea on how to dress up little Gravy Wavy.”

Good lord, it was getting worse.

“Twilight, please,” Graves implored with horror stricken eyes. “You can’t let them take me away!” His cries fell on deaf ears, however, as the young scholar was already lost in her work.

“Alrighty then!” Pinkie Pie cheered as she led the charge towards the door. “Next stop, Rarity’s shop and Baby G’s adorable new duds!”

“Nooooooooooooooo!!!”

The very young marshal’s last, lingering cries were cut off as the door to the library finally closed. For a moment, Spike contemplated the door and thought of going after them. Then he simply shrugged.

“Hey, better him than me.”

And with that, he went to help Twilight with her work.

Chapter 3

As little Graves pushed open the door and exited Rarity’s boutique, it was by only a very, very thin hair that he managed to keep in his temper. His tiny, impotent, childish, temper-tantrum temper.

After being shanghaied by the girls, he’d spent the rest of the morning being dressed up in all sorts of outfits like some sort of living, pint-sized doll. The tiny overalls had been mortifying, the miniature sailor-suit had been worse, and when they’d stuffed him into what could only be described as pantaloons with a matching bonnet, he’d almost died of mortification.

Thank Celestia for small favors though, as during that period of suffering, Rarity had managed to whip up a decent outfit. In fact, it was very much like a small version of his normal clothes: charcoal pinstripe vest with matching slacks and tiny boots. She’d even made him a little hat to go with it.

These clothes were the only reason he put up with what happened next.

“Oh, don’t you just look positively precious!” the violet-haired seamstress cooed. Unable to contain her excitement, she scooped up the little marshal and squeezed him tightly like a teddy bear, albeit one that struggled with all the tenacity of a hooked marlin.

“Rarity, please, put me down!” he squirmed, his face turning a brilliant shade of crimson as he ran through a multitude of emotions: just because he looked like a kid didn’t mean he was one, and certain pleasant aspects of the situation made themselves very apparent through his morass of frustration and ire.

“Aw, lighten up there, little feller,” Applejack chuckled as she came by and tweaked his nose. “You should be nicer to girls: they’ll like you more when you’re older.”

“I don’t want to be nice, and I don’t want to be liked,” he protested in his awful, high-pitched voice. “I want to be put down on my own two feet and treated like the adult you both know I am. I am not a child, so don't treat me like one.”

Rarity and Applejack exchanged a momentary look of surprise. Then the pretty seamstress just squealed in delight and squeezed him even harder.

“I’m sorry, I can’t help it,” she giggled. “You are just far too cute!”

Silently, Graves wondered if crimes committed in his current state would get him charged as a minor.

“Psh, I still don’t see what the big deal is,” Rainbow Dash quipped as she, Fluttershy, and Pinkie came outside to join them. “I mean, he just got smaller, it’s no big deal.”

“Thank you,” Graves sighed, grateful that someone was speaking sense, even if it was Rainbow Dash. This may have been premature, however, as the cyan clad flyer soon began snorting with laughter.

“Yeah, it’s no big deal, because… he’s such a tiny little munchkin!” As she burst out laughing, the other girls just rolled their eyes and ignored it: it’s the only thing you could really do with such a bad pun.

“So anyway, Little G,” Pinkie Pie smiled brightly, “what do you want to do now that you’re a little kid again?”

“First, I’d like to stand on my own, if it’s not too much trouble," Graves scowled.

With a nod from Pinkie Pie, Rarity sighed and reluctantly set the marshal on the ground. However, as soon as his feet set, he was immediately scooped up again, only this time by Fluttershy, who grinned from ear to ear as she, too squeezed the little boy. Just for a moment.

“Oh. Heh heh. Sorry,” she whispered with an embarrassed blush as she caught the marshal’s flat stare. Even as a child, he managed to pull it off quite well, and the shy young lady quickly set him down.

“Thank you,” he said, giving his clothes an irritable jerk as he straightened himself up with as much dignity as a six year oldish child could. Which is to say, not very much at all.

“Well now that we’ve got that out of the way, let’s go do something fun!” Pinkie Pie squealed in glee as she grabbed the little boy’s hand and started out. Despite his small size, the mini marshal put up some good resistance as he dug his heels into the ground.

“No thanks,” he grunted, fighting tooth and nail for every inch of ground given. “I… appreciate the thought, but I’d… rather… not.”

Pinkie Pie let go of his hand so suddenly that Graves actually fell on his butt when she did. The distance was immediately closed as the curly-maned girl rushed in to loom over him, eyes wide with shock.

“What do you mean you’d rather not?!” she gasped. “You’ve just been given a chance to relive your childhood! Relive! Your childhood!”

“… Yeah, so?”

“So? So?!”

Few people had ever seen Pinkie Pie genuinely angry and Graves was not one of them. Nevertheless, he got a good idea of what it must have been like as the usually giggling girl now glared down at him with eyes that flashed like an angry kraken's.

“Now you listen here, buster,” she said as she bodily hauled up the little boy by the scruff of his neck. “You’ve just gotten a chance to repeat the best days of your life with five amazingly awesome, new big sisters, and I am not, I repeat not going to let you miss out on this opportunity!”

“Er... You’re not?”

“Nope!” “Come on Little G! It’s time you live it up a little!” And with that, Pinkie Pie tucked him under one arm as if he were a loaf of bread and ran off towards town. The other girls, with absolutely no idea what was going on, had no choice but to run after her.

“So… why are we here?” Graves asked warily as he eyed his new surroundings. The six of them were now seated at the Sweetwater Café with Graves planted firmly between Applejack and Rainbow Dash to keep him from running off. They’d done a pretty good job, but it had really been Pinkie Pie’s threat of calling in a booster seat and strapping him in that kept him firmly in his place.

“You, Little G,” Pinkie Pie replied, her usual good humor now restored, “are about to see all of your childish fantasies come true.”

As if waiting for his cue, the moment these words were uttered, the fancy waiter with the fancy mustache glided over and set a covered tray before the little boy. Then, with a flourish worthy of a Canterlot royal banquet, he removed the lid and revealed a truly marvelous sight to behold that brought forth a collective gasp of awe.

“It’s beautiful,” Fluttershy whispered.

“It’s fantastic,” Rarity gushed.

“It’s amazin’,” Applejack gaped.

“It’s so... awesome,” Rainbow Dash squeed with a tear in her shimmering eye.

“Yes yes, it’s all of those and more,” Pinkie Pie nodded with an almost reverent voice. “Behold, I give you to the Ultimate Triple Decker, Super Banana Nut Fudge Sundae Deluxe Supreme. Two pounds of rich, vanilla ice cream layered with a full pint of chocolate fudge, six whole bananas, seven kinds of nuts, and no less than six inches of whipped cream, all topped off with a single, perfect cherry.”

“It’s… huge,” Graves murmured as he actually had to look up from his seat to get a good look at the dessert. In fact, he doubted he could see over the top even if he stood on the chair. Tiptoes included.

“Not for long,” the pink one grinned as she handed him a spoon. “Dig in.”

“… Say what?”

“Go ahead, Little G,” she giggled. “It’s every little kid's dream to eat as much ice cream as they want. So don’t hold back and chow down!”

“But, I don’t even… like…” Graves couldn’t finish the sentence and had to swallow as his mouth began to water like the World's End Falls at the sight. When he’d treated Sweetie Belle to something similar, if maybe only a third as large, the mere sight of so much sugar had set his teeth on edge. This time, he was a child, with the complete physiology, mindset, and desires of a child, and regardless of what he knew in his head should be the case…

“You know you want to,” Pinkie Pie grinned wickedly as she placed the spoon in his hand. “Search your feelings. You know this to be true.”

The mini marshal looked to the sundae, then back to Pinkie Pie, then back to the sundae...

With an almost bestial savagery, Graves jumped up and literally assaulted the daunting dessert. Wielding the spoon like a weapon of war, the little boy devastated the massive mound of ice cream with the force of a hurricane powered by a pack of dragons and connected to a miniature black hole.

Five minutes. That’s how long it took for Graves to finish. Every. Last. Bite.

With a contented sigh, the mini marshal leaned settled back in his chair, an almost blissful smile spreading across his chocolate-stained face.

“So, did you enjoy it?” Pinkie Pie asked with a knowing grin.

“Uh huh.” The little boy didn’t even have it in him to deny it: he was far too happy to do anything like that.

“Oh dear, it looks like you’ve made quite a mess, haven’t you?” Fluttershy tutted gently as she leaned in to wipe off his face. This, however, brought the marshal to his senses as he quickly fended off the demure girl’s napkin laden hand.

“Don’t worry, I got this,” he hastily said, just a bit embarrassed at having been caught so off guard. Fluttershy just giggled and wiped him down anyway.

“So now that we’ve got the munchies out of the way, what’s next?” Rainbow Dash asked, stifling a laugh as she watched Fluttershy fuss over Graves like a mother hen.

“Well, I figured now that we’ve got him all hopped up on sugar, it’s time to let him cut loose and run around a bit,” Pinkie Pie beamed. “And that, Applejack, is where you come in.”

“Me? What do you need me fer?” the blond cowgirl asked in surprise.

“You mean you don’t remember?” her curly-maned friend returned with equal surprise. “I wanted to show Little G here that game we always used to play when we were itty-bitty little sillies. You know, the one where we had to get Big Macintosh to come and help us out?”

“Wait a sec,” Applejack replied, a glimmer of excitement flashing in her eyes, “are you talkin’ about the one with the haystack and the hoofin’ it over and everythin’?”

“That’s the one,” the giggly girl grinned. “You think our little friend here would enjoy it?”

“Oh, I know he will,” the freckled cowgirl chuckled as she looked over at the fidgety child next to her. “I think he’ll like it just fine.”

Chapter 4

“So, you got everythin’ set up, Big Mac?” the freckled farmgirl asked with a quizzical eye. Her burly brother just nodded in reply.

“Ee-yup.”

The party now convened at Sweet Apple Acres and everyone watched as the eldest Apple sibling made a few final adjustments on a large, wooden contraption. Well, almost everyone.

“So what’re we doing out here anyway? Why’s Big Mac setting up that big wood thing anyway? What’s it for? How’s it work? What’s going on?”

Little G's mouth was going off at a mile a minute, maybe two. He couldn’t think straight, what with all that sugar in his blood making him perkier than a kitten in a carton of catnip and probably twice as twitchy. That’s why he was moving, weaving his way between the girls, popping his head up every which way as his mouth chattered on in an incessant stream of childish babble.

“Now, now, Graves,” Rarity chided as he darted past her for probably the eighth time. “We wouldn’t want you to wear yourself out before you’ve gotten a chance to play, would we?”

“Worn out? Who, me? Pshaw, don’t worry about it!” he chittered away like a lightning-struck chipmunk. “I don’t remember the last time I felt so awake. I feel great! Actually, more than great! I feel really great! Wow, this must be what Pinkie Pie feels like all the time, doesn’t she? Huh? Isn't it?”

“Yup, pretty much!” the aforementioned girl beamed. “It helps when you eat as many cupcakes as I do.”

“Cupcakes huh? Yeah, maybe I should do that. Eat more cupcakes. Cupcakes are nice. Mmm, cupcakes.”

“Alright, we’re all set!” Applejack called out as she jogged over to her friends. “So who’s up for round one?”

“I think we should let the little guy go first,” Rainbow Dash snorted from her levitated perch. “Wait any longer, and he’ll probably blow a fuse.”

“Then I’ll go with him!” Pinkie Pie cheered as she grabbed the boy’s hand and pulled him over to the large, wooden contraption. “Come on, Graves, let’s do it!”

“Do it? What are we doing? What’s going on?”

“So this here’s pretty much a big race,” Applejack explained as she began climbing up a large platform. “The only catch is, the starting line’s way over there.”

Looking off into the distance, Graves caught sight of two large piles of straw probably a hundred yards away. He scratched his head.

“Well what are we doing over here then? Why aren’t we there? This is weird,” the little boy babbled.

“Oh it will,” Pinkie Pie giggled, as she climbed into a wooden basket at the end of a long board. “Just hop on and we’ll get started.”

Still scratching his head, Graves obliged by jumping into the other basket right next to Pinkie’s. Why he was there, he wasn’t sure, nor was he sure why Applejack and Big Macintosh were standing on scaffolding twenty feet in the air. Or why the scaffolding was right across from them on the other side of the board. The board that was connected to the basket in which he sat...

…

Oh, bugger.

“Geronimo!” Applejack yelled as she and her brother both jumped. Time slowed to a crawl as Graves watched them land on the board, wood creaking as the catapult’s lever transferred all that kinetic force into the other end.

Right where he sat.

“WHOOOOOAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHOOOOOO!”

He was flying. Or tumbling. He couldn’t be sure. All he knew was that he was no longer on the ground and the wind was whipping around him as the world spun in a dizzying spiral. Eventually, the spinning stopped and he had a good second or two to scream his tiny little head off as he crashed into the pile of straw clear across the field.

“Whoohoo! Catch me if you can!”

Digging himself out of the haystack, the mini marshal caught sight of Pinkie Pie tearing back across the field towards their starting point. Barely taking time to grab his hat, Graves darted off after her, his sugar-fueled body making a good effort, but not enough to catch up with her longer legs as she beat him back by a good ten yards.

“No… fair. You… cheated,” Graves, panted as he finally made it back.

“No I didn’t,” Pinkie Pie smiled innocently. “I just gave myself an advantage by not telling you all the rules.”

“I… want a… rematch,” the little boy gasped, straightening up his hat. “This time… I’ll get you for sure.” The perky baker just grinned, the spark of competition lighting up at his words.

“Oh, it’s on.”

Rarity smile as she watched Graves run back towards them for probably the twentieth time already. Legs elegantly folded beneath her as she sat under the shade of a large apple tree, she and Fluttershy had watched as the little boy and his friends had chased each other all over Sweet Apple Acres, whooping and hollering as they raced and ran, screaming and laughing just like a bunch of big kids.

“Honestly, where do they get all that that energy?” she asked, giving her head a little shake as she saw Rainbow Dash sprinting neck and neck with the blond cowgirl. “I’m getting tired just watching them.”

“At least they’re having a good time,” Fluttershy smiled gracefully: the bunch of them reminded her of a pack of puppies nipping at each other’s tails.

Still, there’s a limit to how much kids can handle. When Graves climbed into the basket and nearly toppled out, Applejack spoke a few words to the marshal and gently shooed him over to where the two girls sat. Graves trudged over and plopped down next to them, looking very tired, but in the good kind of way like you do after having a long, productive day.

“Enjoying yourself, Graves?” Rarity smiled as she looked down at the little boy beside her. He just nodded, a sort of loopy grin on his face as he swayed where he sat.

“Yup. Feels like flying. I like it. Yup. Like it a lot.”

“That’s good,” Fluttershy giggled. “But it looks like you’ve gone and worn yourself out. Why don’t you lie down and take a nap.”

“Naw, I don’t need a nap,” he muttered with a flippant wave of the hand. “Just need to… sit down for a minute is all. Catch my breath.”

“Well why don’t you just lie down and relax then?” Rarity chuckled as she watched him sway precariously. “You’ll recharge a lot faster and then you can go and get right back out there.”

“Lie down. Yeah, that sounds good,” the little boy smiled dreamily, his eyes almost completely closed by now. “Lying down sounds real good.”

And without any warning, Graves toppled over and landed right in the pretty seamstress’ lap, gently snoring as he lay fast asleep.

Frozen for a minute, Rarity’s eyes quickly widened as her cheeks tinted pink.

“Graves!” she called out, sounding more than slightly scandalized. “What are you– I mean, why are you– you get up right this minute, young man; I’ll have you know that this kind of behavior is simply unacceptable!” Her words however, fell on completely deaf ears as the little marshal simply rolled over, a contented smile on his face while he snuffled in the slow rhythm of slumber.

“Aw, he looks so cute when he’s asleep,” Fluttershy cooed, before turning to her friend with a smile. “It seems like he really likes you, doesn’t he?”

“What do you mean?” Rarity asked, still slightly perturbed by the whole situation, but not exactly in a bad way.

“Well, think about it,” the pink-haired girl replied. “All day, he’s been trying to make sure we didn’t think of him as a little kid. But when he got all tired out, he wasn’t worrying about all that and just went straight to you. That must mean he really likes you.”

“Is that right?” the pretty seamstress asked, glancing down once more at the sleeping boy skeptically, as if not quite willing to let herself believe it. Fluttershy just giggled.

“Yep. In a way, he’s an awful lot like a little wolf-puppy. Always feisty and fighting, but very cuddly with the ones he really likes.” As if hearing the words, Graves mumbled something in his sleep and curled up, drawing even closer to Rarity as he settled back into stillness.

“Well, if he likes it so much, I guess I’ll allow it just this once,” Rarity sniffed primly. However, even she couldn't fully suppress the fond smile that appeared as she reached down to pick a few stray bits of hay from his hair. “Honestly, how does he manage to get into such a state so quickly?”

As the violet-haired seamstress was preoccupied fussing with the marshal and Fluttershy with watching said fussing, neither particularly noticed the odd static charge buzzing in the air. However, neither could miss the loud, crackling pop as Twilight teleported in with a flash of purple light.

“Oh good, you’re here!” she called in relief, a tired smile coming to a face framed by frazzled, messy hair. “I’ve finally done it! It took me a while, but I finally–” The rest of her statement got cut off as Fluttershy leaped to her feet and shoved a hand into her chattering friend’s mouth.

“Hmm, whmm ynnm wmnwn?” Twilight confusedly mumbled. A couple of quick glances towards the sleeping child, however, were enough to answer that question, and she finally nodded in silent understanding.

“Oh, sorry,” she whispered sheepishly as Fluttershy finally removed her hand. “I didn’t wake him did I?”

“Fortunately not,” Rarity sighed with a smile. “It seems that Graves is a pretty deep sleeper.” Indeed, aside from a few snuffling snores and a little random mumbling, the marshal simply stayed curled up and continued his nap.

“Aw, he looks just like Spike did when he was at that age,” the sweater-vested librarian giggled. “It almost seems a shame to turn him back so soon.”

“You mean you already fixed the spell?” Fluttershy whispered back in surprise, to which Twilight happily nodded.

“That’s what I was saying earlier. Everything’s set up back at the library: we just need to get him back and he’ll be back to his old self in no time.”

“… Do we really have to?” Fluttershy asked, her conscience torn between wanting to help her little friend and the knowledge that doing so would completely destroy his current cuteness. “I mean, it wouldn’t hurt if we waited just a little longer, would it?”

For a moment, both Twilight and Rarity gave the idea serious thought. It would be pretty fun, and they could always finish it later…

It was finally Rarity who broke the silence.

“No, I don’t suppose we can,” she sighed with a good bit of reluctance. “As much as I’d like trying new outfits on him, just imagine how he’d react if he learned we'd kept him a child any longer than necessary.”

The unconscious shudders in the other two girls were a clear testament to their understanding.

Reconvened back at the library, the six girls gathered around the magic circle drawn on the ground where a still slumbering Graves lay in the middle.

“Now, you’re sure it’ll work this time?” Applejack asked once more. “You kinda overshot it last time, and I’d hate to have to spend the rest of the day callin’ Graves Gramps, if yer catchin' my drift.”

“Don’t worry,” Twilight said with a confident grin. “I’m positive that this time, the spell will work exactly as I planned.”

“That’s what she always says,” Rainbow Dash muttered before a rough elbow from the freckled farm girl cut her off.

“Anyways, with the spell reversed and reconfigured,” the young scholar continued, oblivious to her friend’s doubts, “I should be able to revert the marshal back to the exact age he was this morning.”

“Well don’t just stand there then,” Pinkie Pie beamed. “Let ’er rip!”

As the low hum of charging magic began filling the room, Rarity blinked as a thought suddenly occurred to her. Quietly, as the mystic runes on the ground began to glow with a strong, white light, she turned to Fluttershy and whispered.

“Fluttershy, darling?”

“What is it, Rarity?”

“Something just dawned on me: I was called in this morning because Graves was left without clothes after his transformation, right?”

“Right?” Fluttershy nodded as the hum grew louder by the second.

“And that occurred because when he reverted to a child, his garments remained as they were, correct?”

“That’s correct,” Fluttershy agreed, not sure what her fashion-thinking friend was getting at.

“Well…” Rarity paused, a flash of worry crossing her face as Twilight entered the final incantations of the spell. “If clothes don’t change with this magic, then what happens when Graves suddenly gets much bigger than what he’s wearing?”

Fluttershy had only a moment to glance over in wide-eyed horror before the light swallowed everything.

Slowly, Graves opened his eyes and blearily blinked. He was looking at a ceiling. That meant he was back inside.

…

What the hay had happened?

The last few hours had been blurry, a sort of glucose-induced stupor that made it hard to remember anything that had occurred. He did remember something about being outside though, about doing something fun and something else relating to a nap. A very nice nap, he recalled, but for the life of him couldn’t figure out why. Yawning, he put a hand to his mouth to cover it, but paused as he caught sight of it.

It was his hand. Not the small and soft hand of his accursed childish form, but the tough, calloused hand that he knew like… well, like the back of his hand. He was back to normal.

Sighing in relief, Graves pushed himself up and stretched, relishing the feeling of being back in his old body. It was only after this, however, that he noticed he wasn’t alone.

“Looks like your spell worked, Twilight,” he chuckled gratefully in his regular baritone rumble and not some high-pitched squeak. Goodness, he’d missed his voice. “'Course, you sort of did start the mess in the first place, so I’ll…”

“…”

“Why are you all staring at me like that?”

Twilight just stood there, almost like she’d cast a time spell and frozen herself at the apex of stunned shock. And it wasn’t just her. Fluttershy was peeking red-faced through parted fingers, Pinkie Pie appeared to have been struck with apoplexy, and Rainbow Dash just looked fit to crack up as Applejack calmly pulled a hat down to cover her pink-tinted face.

“What, is there something on my face?”

“Oh, it’s not what’s on you, Graves,” Rarity remarked, the faintest shadow of an appraising smile on her otherwise calm and serene face. “Rather, it’s more like what’s not there that makes it such an… eye-catching spectacle.”

Raising an eyebrow in question, Graves looked down at himself. He considered it for a moment, and then looked right back up, his face as cool and composed as a winter pond.

“… Would someone please tell me why I’m naked?”

The Journey of Graves will continue in the seventh story: Return to the Gala