As it had too often lately, the final bell of the school day made Sunset feel like she might both grin forever and puke.

She stopped by her locker and dropped off her last load of books, and oh crap she forgot about the history quiz tomorrow! That book came back out of the locker and went in her bag. Along with one other: the diary. Something told her she should have asked for Twilight Sparkle’s help long ago. Just not now.

Funny, whenever she carried it, it seemed like she could feel a reassuring warmth radiating from her backpack. Probably all in her head, but that didn’t matter. If it worked, it worked.

No Rainbooms practice today, either, so she grabbed her guitar out of the band room and elbowed her way through a particularly crowded section of hallway. “Hey, Sunset!” Valhallen said. Cherry Crash waved, too, and so did Micro Chips.

Sometimes, it could overwhelm her, if she let it. All these kids she’d tried to enslave, and not even that long ago. Now they all treated her like a friend. She’d learned a lot about friendship since then, but she still struggled to understand how people could so quickly accept her now. Would she have done the same?

Probably not.

She returned their waves anyway and pushed open the door beside the cafeteria, at the back of the school. Not many people left this way, but enough that she couldn’t exactly go undetected. One person saw her, and before long, everyone knew. So what was the point of trying to keep up any secrecy?

With a little tug to maneuver the side pocket of her backpack closer, she pulled out the invitation. Same as always. And pointless as always. It was like getting an invitation to school every morning. Who needed that?

But it had the usual time and place on it, the same time and place it always stated, as if Sunset couldn’t be trusted to honor even that. Which was kind of the idea, she guessed. And there, behind the school, the car waited for her again.

Not a limousine—probably something that people thought looked inconspicuous once they’d moved so far up in the world that they couldn’t tell anymore. Large, black, and with a driver wearing a very nice suit. Yeah, no way that thing would stand out.

She walked up as she always did, and the driver, seeing her approach, got out to open the back door for her. “Help yourself to a drink if you like, Miss Shimmer,” he said.

Once in a while, she would, but it always felt like some kind of test. Choose the lowly soda, or the highbrow mineral water. Cognac was surely something people simply stocked cars with, but heaven help her if she took that at her age.

In Equestria, she was this close to being royalty, but she couldn’t exactly go lording that about here. So she slid into the back seat, leaving the refrigerator untouched, and it absolutely creeped her out to sit on leather, but few people knew why.

Love sure made people do strange things.

The door shut, sealing her in, and the driver took his place in front. “Miss Hemline will be expecting you in her office,” he said as he started the engine. Yeah, their little arrangement would raise some eyebrows if her friends at school knew.

The buildings sailed past her tinted window, slowly at first, but faster and faster as they drove on. The modest homes oozing by, then the bigger ones whipping along, except… it took longer to traverse those expanding lawns as they approached the nice part of town, so they still kind of flickered at a constant pace, like watching an old zoetrope morph a slum into a mansion.

Sunset glanced at the same old jacket she always wore—definitely not leather, even though most people assumed so. But thinking of herself ever becoming high society? Sunset had rubbed elbows with some bigwigs at the Camp Everfree benefit, which led to spending time with Canter Zoom and Chestnut Magnifico on an actual movie set. Well, for a B-movie production.

Of course Prim Hemline’s house had a circular drive looping around a lovely fountain, and of course yet another uniformed staff member came out to open the door for her. He stared somewhere over her left shoulder and gave the same spiel he always did: “Through the foyer, turn left in the back hallway, second door.”

Did they really think she couldn’t remember that? She’d already come here a least a dozen times.

Sunset trudged through the house, and she heard Prim’s voice on the phone well before she got to the office and sat in one of the cushy chairs facing the desk. She flopped down sideways, with her knees over the arm.

That finally earned her a little glare about three minutes later, when Prim ended her call. So Sunset turned the “right” way and sat up straight. “Sorry.”

Behind the desk, Prim clasped her hands together and wrung them slightly. “Did you have a pleasant ride here?”

Sunset shrugged. “I guess so. But I don’t know who you think you’re fooling. Pretty much everyone knows where I am and what I’m doing here.” Prim’s jaw tightened, but Sunset held up a hand. “Not because I told them. Just… people can’t help noticing things.”

The fire died out in Prim’s eyes, and she slumped in her seat. “I suppose you’re right.” But if the fire had left her eyes, it went somewhere else. Those clenched fists, for instance. “Will you be accompanying me to next week’s photo shoot in Manehattan, then?”

Sunset diverted her gaze out the window, toward the pool. “I think I should.” No, that didn’t sound right, and Prim had already begun frowning. “I’ve said no to the previous few because I didn’t want to cause trouble, but at some point, you have to stop worrying about that, y’know?”

With a huff, Prim swiveled to face Sunset squarely again. She interlaced her fingers and propped her chin on the backs of her hands. “Let’s get this straight: I don’t like you.” No surprises there. “But my daughter is quite taken with you, and for her sake, I’m willing to tolerate some people I might not otherwise, provided they treat her with the kindness she deserves.”

Finally, Prim segued to her daughter. And Sunset couldn’t help smiling. “I can promise you that,” Sunset said. “Derpy is so sweet—”

“Don’t you dare call her that!” Prim shouted, rising halfway from her chair. “Her name is Muffins!”

“But she asks people at school to call her—” Prim’s fire only seethed more, so Sunset let it go. It wasn’t like Prim could eavesdrop on them at school. “Okay. Muffins.” Whenever Prim was in earshot, anyway.

With a terse nod, Prim sat back down. “We leave for Manehattan at eight o’clock sharp, tomorrow morning.” Her lips curled at the acerbic words.

Prim started paging through a ledger and making notes, and after about a minute of that, Sunset cleared her throat. “Okay. I’ll be on time.”

Prim nearly jumped. “Oh. I thought you’d have gone to see Muffins. She’s in the garden.” And back to her ledger.

So Sunset quietly walked out. She knew the way by now.

It took several turns through fairly indiscernible hallways to get there, but when Sunset emerged from the ornate glass entryway, the late afternoon sun gleamed off Derpy’s hair. She had one of her sketch pads out, and she paused with her charcoal stick as she leaned in to sniff the japonica bush blooming next to her bench. She always looked so adorable when she got enthralled by whatever had grabbed her attention that day. Her eyes, focused for once, right on the closest flower, and a full grin on her face.

Sunset hadn’t exactly tried to conceal her approach, but Derpy still hadn’t noticed, not until Sunset stood only a few paces away. But when she did come out of her reverie, Derpy immediately sprung from her seat and practically tackled Sunset with a hug.

“You’re here!” Derpy said. They’d seen each other earlier at school, and yesterday, and the day before, but Derpy reacted as if it had been years, every time.

“Hey, Der—er, Muffins.” Sunset sneaked a glance behind her.

But Derpy waved a hand toward the door. “Don’t worry about Mom. She’ll stay busy for a while, and none of the servants’ll care if you call me that. Heck,” she said with a giggle, “half of them call me Derpy, ’cause I asked them to, too!”

“You asked them to a ballet?” For a minute, Sunset watched. People liked to think Derpy was slow, but… well, in terms of how long it took her, maybe at times, but she did get it. Nothing wrong with being thoughtful.

“Ooooh, tutu!” Derpy rolled her eyes up and snickered. “You always know how to get me to laugh!”

Of course, Sunset had only wanted to inspire terror at first. Later on, she made friends, but more the… huggy kind? Not that she didn’t enjoy Derpy’s hugs, but she’d never really had someone to joke with. Or someone who could just sit there doing nothing and make her feel good.

Make her feel good. That hadn’t sat right with her for a while now. Did she make Derpy feel good? That girl always seemed happy. The time it rained on their picnic, the time they went to play miniature golf only to find the course closed for renovations, the time they had their hearts set on getting some lasagna for dinner, but Rarity pulled her into doing that fashion show.

Derpy still had the shirt from that, with the arrows on it. It looked good on her. Rarity had somehow found out Derpy was the daughter of a fashion mogul and figured she could model. It turned out she knew how to handle herself on a runway. Rarity had kept her secret, but as with the car sent to pick up Sunset a couple times a week, people had noticed the same for Derpy. Now everyone knew. Prim had always said she just wanted Derpy—Muffins to live a quiet life, but with all the things that had happened at Canterlot High the last few years, Derpy’s family situation didn’t really stand out.

Anyway, Derpy always saw the bright side of things. Even things like Sunset. How did Sunset make her happier than the next person could?

Derpy set down her pad and took both of Sunset’s hands. “You ready for tomorrow? All packed?”

“Yeah. I still can’t believe your mom is letting me go.”

With a quick shrug, Derpy cocked her head. “Well, she likes you.”

“Sure, what clued me in was how she just explicitly said she didn’t like me.” Crap. She shouldn’t have gone tattling like that. Derpy probably knew, just from living with her mom, but loading that on her wasn’t fair.

But Derpy took Sunset’s arm and snuggled up to it. “She says that. But don’t believe her. She wouldn’t have invited you otherwise.”

Maybe. Sunset couldn’t figure Prim out. Why send the car for her?

She gave Derpy a quick kiss, but then it occurred to Sunset that one of the many windows looking out on the garden might be Prim’s office.

She kissed Derpy again. “So, what are we doing this afternoon?”

For a moment, Derpy held a finger to her chin, and then her face brightened. “Oh! Y’know, I loved trying out archery at Camp Everfree back in the summer. I bet we could set up a target on the lawn! Then maybe I could do it if it came up at the Friendship Games again.”

“You’re a shoo-in to make the team for chemistry, and yeah, archery would be cool.” Yet another quality that continued to amaze Sunset: Derpy would try anything, and if it didn’t work, it never fazed her. Just move on to the next thing, no worries. Derpy tugged at her to walk a little faster, and Sunset couldn’t help grinning.

At least they’d taken the train to Manehattan. Sunset didn’t think she could stomach a car ride that long, all cooped up with Prim. Even if Derpy was right about her. Yeah, protective mother and all, but couldn’t she be nice once in a while?

“Have you visited Manehattan before?” Derpy asked as she pulled Sunset along the sidewalk.

“Yeah—I mean, no.” Derpy gave her an odd look, but Sunset waved a hand. “Not this one,” she muttered. Derpy had on the arrow shirt, definitely on purpose. She looked so cute in it!

By the smile Derpy wore as well, she’d caught Sunset admiring it. “C’mon! I’ve got lots of places to show you! The zoo, the park—ooh, the Nickers play just a few blocks from here!” Stopping short, Derpy held Sunset by the shoulders and peered intently at her. “I think they’re out of town this week. I bet we could get a tour of the arena. Wanna check out some basketball?”

She’d seen Dash play it a couple times, but Sunset had never tried it herself. With Derpy bouncing back and forth on her feet, practically vibrating with glee, who could say no to her? “Sounds like fun. You ever been to a game?”

“One time,” Derpy said, nodding. “Maybe six years ago, my first time here. Mom hired a guide to take me around while she worked on her fashion show.”

“Wait, but—” The shirt… Sunset pointed at it. “You did great modeling Rarity’s designs. Why wouldn’t your mom let you be part of her show?”

A little sigh, but nothing ever kept Derpy down for long. “She kind of doesn’t want me to be public knowledge.”

How dare she…

Sunset balled her fists. “Why would she want to keep you secret? It’s not like people at school don’t know.”

“Sunset.”

A gentle hand, laid on her shoulder. Sunset stared at it, but still she clenched her jaw.

“Sunset.”

Like an ebb tide, the knots flowed out of Sunset’s body. How could Derpy always do that? Nobody else could calm her like that. And her temper had gotten her in trouble enough times. Subjecting the school to her reign of terror, erupting at this world’s Twilight Sparkle and quite possibly pushing her into becoming Midnight Sparkle.

“It’s okay. She’s not embarrassed by me. She just doesn’t want me to be treated differently because she’s a celebrity. Or put me in danger.” She squeezed Sunset’s shoulder.

“That what she tells you?”

And for a moment, Sunset saw a look in Derpy’s eyes she never had before. Something had broken. “Why? Don’t you think she believes in me?” Her voice lowered. “Don’t you?”

Somehow, all the sounds of horns and shouting and construction faded into the background. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it that way. Of course I believe in you.”

Just as quickly, a smile sprouted on Derpy’s face again, something else she could do that Sunset would never understand: she immediately rose above anything. “Good. Now c’mon! We can finish in time for lunch.”

It wasn’t fair that Derpy could just play it off like that. Not that Sunset had meant it in a hurtful way, but if it had hurt Derpy, they couldn’t simply sweep it under the rug.

It would have to wait, as Derpy pulled her so fast down the sidewalk that she could barely keep her balance, and—ow! Her shoulder clipped a signpost, and Derpy glanced back to toss a “sorry” at her, then before she knew it, they stood next to a ticket window. Derpy knocked on the window, flashed an ID at whoever came over, and within minutes, a team employee had taken them to the court.

“Ooh, can we shoot some baskets?” Derpy asked.

With a chuckle, the employee nodded. “Sure, Miss Hemline—”

“Hooves.”

“Hooves. We’re not cleaning the floor until tomorrow, so you won’t hurt anything. Some practice balls are over there,” he said, pointing at a rack against the wall.

“Thanks!” Derpy called, already running.

So Sunset met her under one of the goals. Derpy set her jaw, heaved the ball upward… and it barely reached as high as the bottom of the net. She stuck her tongue out of the side of her mouth, tossed the ball up underhanded, and at least she got it above the rim this time, though it headed in the wrong direction.

“Wow, I’m bad at this!” Derpy said with a laugh. But she retrieved it and got right back in position.

Such an effortless optimism. Definitely a quality Sunset lacked, most of the time, anyway. “Here,” she said, circling an arm around Derpy’s shoulders, “let me show you what Dash does. Support the ball with one hand under it—” she maneuvered Derpy’s left hand into place “—and the other behind it, then push it up toward the goal. Make sure to follow through with your right hand, straight toward the hoop.”

Up the ball went. And it hit the rim, then rebounded straight back into Derpy’s forehead.

“Jeez, are you okay?” Sunset reached down to help Derpy to her feet again, but Derpy only laughed more.

“I’m fine. And I’m going to sink a basket before we go anywhere else!”

The ball had only rolled a few feet away, so Sunset picked it up and brought it over—better to hand it to her than toss it. “You will. I believe in you.” Maybe that made up for earlier.

Derpy did give her a sly grin, but she chucked the ball up again. And again. It only took her eight tries, which earned her a big hug. “See! I knew you could!” And in Sunset’s embrace, Derpy… well, like a kitten, held by the nape of its neck, that just instinctively goes still. She folded her arms in and nestled her head on Sunset’s shoulder, against her neck. And became utterly peaceful. Good to know she could do that for Derpy as well.

Hours could have passed, and Sunset wouldn’t have known the difference, but eventually Derpy stirred from her cocoon. “We’ve got a lot more to see today,” she said. “Let’s go over to FAO Horse! It’s always fun there.”

“Alright. Lunch first, though?”

“Oh yeah! We need to hit one of the delis!” Derpy had already taken a few steps toward the exit, but she turned when Sunset didn’t immediately follow. “What are you waiting for?”

One more look. The long blonde hair, the ever-present smile, that cute shirt. “Just gotta put the ball back on the rack first. Don’t want to leave anything for someone else to clean up.”

“Mmhmm,” Derpy said with a sharp nod. Then she took the lead once again, guiding Sunset through the city streets she knew so well.

Sunset tended not to wear her geode so much these days. If she thought she might need it, then sure, but touch-activated? She’d get a nonstop flood of what Derpy was feeling. Except that dating her meant she should be able to do that reasonably well without the geode, so… really, it seemed like cheating.

“Did Rarity let you keep the rest of that outfit, too?”

“Huh?” Derpy said.

“You had striped leggings that went with it, a skirt, gloves, and a pair of boots. A belt, too.”

Derpy was staring. “You remember all that?”

“Well… yeah. That was after my bad-girl phase, so by then I actually gave a damn about people. You looked really cute in that.” They were supposed to be on a tight schedule, but Derpy stopped walking and leaned against a mailbox.

She squinted back and shook her head. “But you were nice before then, too.”

Sometimes Derpy’s head skipped forward in a conversation and answered a question Sunset hadn’t thought of yet. Which had to be the case, because Derpy wasn’t making sense. “You’d met me, right? Monopoly on the Fall Formal crown? Reign of terror over the school? My own lackeys?”

Derpy wilted, and it always broke Sunset’s heart to see it happen. “You were nice. I-I’ll tell you some other time, though.”

“I didn’t mean—”

“No, no, it’s okay.” Derpy waved a hand down the street. “Our dinner reservation is in three minutes, and we still have one block to go. I don’t want to keep Mom waiting.”

Oh. Sunset had assumed dinner for two. But Derpy had already started walking again, keeping up a very fast pace.

What had Derpy meant, though? Sunset was nice before? When?

Her first year at Canterlot High, they’d had chemistry class together. Derpy had picked it up very quickly. And just coming off being one of the most prestigious students in Equestria, Sunset had to respect that. Twilight excelled at science, too, of course, but Sunset hadn’t met her until later.

The blonde science girl with her indefatigable sense of optimism. Yeah, she’d stuck in Sunset’s head, which usually portended bad things for someone, at least back then. But nice?

“C’mon!” Derpy shouted as she dashed ahead another few doors, then ducked into…

Wow. A super-ritzy restaurant, waiters in tuxedos and carrying those crumb-scraper things, people wearing fancy dresses. People who knew the proper name for those crumb-scraper things.

Marble and brass practically erupted out of the place, and the line ran out the door, but Derpy elbowed her way past everyone. Quickly, Sunset stuffed her hand in her pocket and checked her wallet’s thickness. Maybe enough to buy an appetizer here? If she blew her whole week’s budget.

After passing the fifth lady in an evening gown, she glanced at her worn jacket and skirt, the ones she’d had for years. No way they’d let her in here wearing this. Not that Derpy had on anything fancy either, but it was still in good condition, and if anyone couldn’t see how cute that shirt was, they were no judge of fashion anyway.

Derpy beckoned her up to the maitre d’, who, sure enough, gave Sunset’s ensemble a rather scathing glare. But the name on that reservation opened many doors. “Right this way, Miss Hemline,” he said, taking two menus from a wall pocket.

“Hooves,” she replied.

Just a short walk away, the maitre d’ deposited them at a table with a nice view of the fountain in the middle of the dining room. Live piano music, a huge wine list on the table—Sunset checked her wallet again.

“Your waiter will be with you shortly.” Then he strode away with one more backward glance at her clothes.

As soon as she sat down, Derpy checked her phone, like it was part of the routine. “Ah. Mom can’t make it.” She just set her phone back down as if it happened every other day.

“She do that a lot?” Sunset asked.

“On work trips, yeah. Don’t worry, I have one of her credit cards.” A sly grin—had Derpy noticed her fumbling in her pocket to count bills? That girl sure saw a lot that other people missed.

But that also meant… “She was going to pay? For me, too?”

“She invited you. Well, I asked her to, but still. That’s what a host should do. I told you she liked you.” And her grin only widened.

“I can understand treating a guest to dinner, but at what has to be one of the most expensive places in the city?” Her voice must have gotten out of control—a few other patrons were looking. Yeah, great way to show them they shouldn’t judge her by her appearance. “Besides, she said in no uncertain terms she didn’t like me,” Sunset hissed.

Derpy only shrugged. “That’s just how she is. Trust me, she likes you.”

“How do you live with someone like that?”

Another shrug. “She’s my mom.”

“About that… why isn’t your name Hemline?”

Derpy barely even diverted her eyes from her menu. “Adopted.”

“Wait, you’re not her biological daughter? You two have the gray color in common. I figured—”

“No, no.” She’d let go of half the menu, and now she stared like Sunset had asparagus stuck in her ears. “I am her daughter, but my father died when I was still a baby, she remarried, he adopted me, I took his name, part of that ‘keeping me out of the public eye’ thing.” She circled a hand in the air and went back to studying her menu.

But that only raised another question: “Where’s he now?”

“Hm?” Derpy rested her chin on her free hand. “Oh, he died when I was eight.”

“Your mom has been widowed twice?” A faint nod in reply. “Sorry. I should think of something more interesting to talk about. I don’t want to be a boring date.”

There went the asparagus look again. “You could never be boring.”

“I guess I do hang around interesting people, and trouble tends to follow me around.” Sunset laid her menu down. Even if it might look like an attempt to keep the price down, that stuffed mushroom appetizer really sounded good.

“You calling me trouble?” Derpy said as she peered over the votive candle at Sunset.

Sunset returned Derpy’s smirk. “The good kind. Besides, I do most of the following. You’ve been leading me all over the place today.”

“I’m no leader,” Derpy replied, ducking behind her menu, but Sunset grabbed the top and pushed it down.

“I had a lot to learn about friendship after… well, you know. Thankfully, I had Twilight’s friends to teach me. It’s been a long journey, but it’s far from over.”

“But I didn’t—”

Sunset reached for Derpy’s chin and raised it, though Derpy kept her eyes downcast. “Yes you did. You know what I learned from you? What I’m still learning from you? Perseverance. Optimism. You don’t let anything get you down, and you always see the best in every situation. In everybody.”

Finally, Derpy looked up. “Really?”

“Yes. Just because I have good friends doesn’t mean I never get to feeling down about anything. And I’ve never been the type to look on the bright side. But I’m starting to, and I have you to thank for it.”

With a hand hiding her blush, Derpy let out a kind of little low-pitched squee-chuckle hybrid, like Fluttershy sometimes did. Of course the waiter showed up right then.

“Good evening, ladies. Can I get you a drink to start while you’re looking over the menu?”

“I think we’re ready to order,” Derpy said with a questioning glance at Sunset, so she nodded.

The waiter took out his pad with a little flourish. “I like the shirt, by the way,” he said to Derpy. Yeah, he was getting a nice tip.

“I’d like the stuffed mushroom appetizer”—hey, great minds think alike!—“then the arugula salad with poppyseed dressing on the side, um… navy bean for the soup course, the roasted artichoke with pomegranate chutney, and for dessert, the red currant panna cotta.”

Sunset gaped at her. Could Derpy eat all that? And courses and—

“For you, ma’am?” His pen stood ready to record whatever stupidity Sunset might utter.

“U-uhhh…” She flipped open the menu again. Up above the mushrooms she’d wanted, instructions to choose one, then over the salads as well, something about sorbet between… This was the kind of thing Rarity would know, except she was too down-to-earth to bring it into her circle of friends. At the end, prices for full dinners in differing numbers of courses, oh sweet Celestia, even the tasting menu ran three figures! “Uhhh…” She would have thought living in the castle would have prepared her for this kind of thing.

Just like Sunset had done a few minutes ago, Derpy pulled down the top of Sunset’s menu. “Make that two,” she said, “and sparkling water to drink.”

“Very good, ma’am. I’ll have your water and appetizers right out.”

Derpy just sat there smiling at her. And not the ridiculing kind. More like someone watching a puppy. “Yeah, thanks for the save there. I totally missed how that was supposed to work. This’ll be good!”

Sunset tried her best not to fidget, but she could never hide that from Derpy.

“Relax,” Derpy said. “I told you, I have one of Mom’s credit cards. You trusted me to order for you. Now trust me with that, too. You don’t need to worry about it.”

Once again, Derpy knew how to calm those rising fires. Sunset let out a soft breath. “You didn’t answer my question earlier. Did Rarity let you keep the whole outfit?”

“Yeah,” Derpy answered, running a hand along her sleeve. “I’m not much for leggings, but I wear the skirt sometimes. Belt and boots—you can always use those.”

“I’ve seen you wear the skirt.” Sunset’s grin broadened. “With the little flip-out parts at the top? You look hot in that.”

Immediately, Derpy turned a deep red. “Stooooop!” she said quietly.

“When are you going to believe that you’re beautiful?”

Derpy returned a half-smile, then she looked away and wiped at her cheeks with her napkin. Or serviette, they probably called it here. But Sunset’s heart pressed her further into the seat, as it always did when Derpy reacted that way.

“No, no,” Sunset said, “we’re not doing this, okay?” At once, her body felt girded with steel. She may have been a hanger-on always a hair’s breadth from wasting all the progress she’d made these past years, and she may never understand what Derpy found compelling about her, but the one thing she could do was cheer her girlfriend up on the rare occasion that bubbles didn’t rise.

“C’mon.” Sunset took both of her hands. “I’m gonna cure you of this if it kills me. You have good friends now, right?” Same starting point as always. Derpy knew the routine by now.

“Bulk Biceps, Sandalwood, Flash Sentry, Blueberry Pie, Raspberry Fluff, Raindrops, the Doctor, plus I roomed with Trixie at Camp Everfree… and they don’t care if I’m beautiful—”

“Which doesn’t mean you aren’t.”

A faint nod. “—which doesn’t mean I’m not, I guess, but—”

“No but. Rarity was proud to have you model for her, and your mom has in the past, too. I bet she still would, if she wasn’t so opposed to you being a public figure.”

“When I was a kid…” Derpy mumbled.

“Hm?”

The waiter glided back over with two small plates of mushrooms and two glasses of water. “Here you are, ladies, and if you need anything else, please let me know.” He did cast a little glance at Derpy, who stared at the fountain.

After a minute of silence, Derpy spread out her nap—her serviette in her lap and poked a fork into one of her mushrooms.

“When you were a kid… what?” Sunset asked. It didn’t seem like Derpy would answer, so Sunset tried one of her own mushrooms, and—

Wow. Yes, she could have eaten this and nothing else for dinner! Herbed bread crumbs, cheese, garlic… well, maybe garlic wasn’t the best choice for a date, but at least Sunset wasn’t the only one eating it. Before she could stop herself, she’d already plowed through four of them.

“You’re not supposed to eat all of them,” Derpy said, propping her chin again and slowly twirling her fork at Sunset’s plate.

“Why not?” Why pay for food you didn’t intend to eat?

“No way you can finish everything. If you really like one course, I guess it wouldn’t hurt, but don’t expect to do that with all of them.” She added a listless shrug.

But Derpy couldn’t expect to get out of this that easily. “When you were a kid, what?”

Both of her eyes aligned, and Derpy sighed. “I didn’t look this way back then. I used to race back then. I used to win. Did I ever tell you that I knew Rainbow Dash from that?”

“N-no. You’ve never really talked about your childhood before.” Her stomach twisting, Sunset put her fork down.

“Yeah, when my eyes went screwy, I stopped winning, and Dash started. This one time—” at last a smile brightened up her face “—she kicked into some high gear nobody had ever seen before. By then, I’d hit a growth spurt, and I was too big to compete anymore, but I’d still come and watch, and she was amazing!”

Just as quickly, her smile faded. “Some of the other kids used to make fun of me. Mom didn’t ask me to walk the runway anymore, and she tried getting me an operation on my eyes, but it didn’t take. Life at Canterlot High has been great, though!”

It was kind of manic watching her yo-yo between smile and frown, but the grin had resurged, as it always seemed to with her. “You’re right, I have good friends here, and—hee hee—I’ve had to comfort Flash Sentry a couple times, once about you—” yeah, yeah, Sunset remembered that one “—and I can’t believe I’m the one dating you now!”

Mushroom plates whisked away, salads settled in, and crumb scraper thingies deployed like a rehearsed dance, then the world melted away again, leaving Sunset in her little nook of reality with her girlfriend. Derpy drizzled the small cup of dressing over her plate, so Sunset followed suit. “I never knew that about you, about your childhood. Why didn’t you tell me before?”

Derpy held up a finger until she’d finished chewing a bite of greens. “Nobody likes telling you that you’re getting damaged goods. That you could have had better if only you’d come along sooner.”

That sounded even worse than thinking she wasn’t beautiful! So why didn’t this faze her? “You would have been what, like five? Neither of us was on the dating scene then.”

“You know what I mean.”

Activate logic mode, then. Derpy’s mind could rival Pinkie Pie’s chaos one moment and set a paragon of structure the next. That had caught Sunset’s eye at first: another scientist at heart, but one who could detach herself from it in a way Sunset couldn’t. Forever analyzing, always planning, and never just letting go. At least not until Derpy, ironically at her most orderly, had simply told Sunset she needed to learn to cut loose. And proceeded to show her how.

Knowing when Sunset needed to calm down or go wild, often when Sunset herself didn’t… yeah, she’d landed quite the amazing girlfriend. But what did Derpy get out of it?

“And you know what I mean,” Sunset replied. “Unless you’re auditioning for the role of Queen of Perfectly Focused Eyes, it doesn’t matter, and I think we’ve reached the age that our classmates can be mature about it.” And she actually wanted everyone to call her Derpy now.

“The last couple years, yeah,” Derpy said, going back to her salad. “Still makes me uncoordinated at times.”

“You call it clumsy, I call it cute. And you’re still an ace at chemistry.”

Derpy winced. “If I take my time. When I get rushed… well, you remember what happened at the Friendship Games.”

While she finally tasted her own salad, Sunset let a beat go by. Hey, pretty good! She’d never tried arugula before. Kinda peppery. “Yeah, I do remember. I blew up at Twilight—this world’s Twilight—started lecturing my friends about how to use magic, and just generally went control freak on everybody. Until that night, when you said you thought I needed to chill, and you calmed me down, like only you can. Just you and me in the park, under the stars, your hand in mine. Heh! We weren’t even an item yet then, but you were a friend who saw a problem and fixed it. Seriously, I don’t know how many times I’ve had to hold back from reverting to demonic wrath, but with you, it’s so much easier. You can sense it coming on earlier than anyone, you can talk me down, and honestly, I can resist it better just because I don’t want to be that way, for your sake.”

Derpy would always blush about something like that. It’d happened so many times. But this time, Derpy simply took another forkful of greens and beamed. Maybe she’d finally started to accept it. “You know I love you, right?” Sunset said.

If possible, Derpy’s grin got even wider, and she sank a little deeper into her seat. “Yeah, I do. I’ve never doubted that.”

That girl was so trusting. It was wonderful, adorable, flattering, and a huge responsibility. Giving that kind of control to someone with Sunset’s past… She had to earn it every day.

Sunset put her fork down. Suddenly, she felt less like eating and more like just admiring. She wasn’t supposed to eat the whole dish, anyway, apparently. Derpy peeked once or twice, and she breathed a little more slowly each time.

“I’ve never eaten so much in my life,” Sunset said, holding her belly. “Or such good food.”

“Really?” Derpy craned her neck up to see what few stars had managed to pierce the haze of streetlights hanging over everything. “I know it’s more than most people would usually spend, but I figure they’d treat themselves once in a while.”

“Derpy, you dropped over two hundred fifty on dinner. Your average Joe can’t afford that, even as an occasional indulgence.”

Her girlfriend kicked at a stone she somehow spotted while looking up. Skewed eyes must have an advantage sometimes. “Huh. I didn’t know that.”

Sunset had never seen her go shopping, now that she thought about it. How often did she actually see the price of anything?

“This is the first time Mom’s let me use her credit card like that,” Derpy continued.

And a shudder ran over Sunset’s shoulders. That sure rang a bell. As Princess Celestia’s personal student, she’d wanted for nothing. Drop her name, get free stuff, or when she couldn’t needle her way into an impromptu one-hundred-percent-off sale, she’d had the national treasury to back her up. Fleeing to this world and living on her own had sure given her an eye-opening look at life without unlimited money.

Her book—she’d left it at the hotel. No need to go toting it around the city, but she did pack it in her suitcase. Who knew why? Something told her it might come in useful, and now she’d rather like to get Twilight’s perspective on that.

Yet another thing that’d driven her into a rage: seeing all those students with their nice clothes and nice cars, and her, having to scrounge for everything she had. She really had felt like they all owed her something. She shook her head.

“Oh, no!” Derpy said, waving both hands with her fingers spread. “I didn’t mean to show off in front of you!”

“What?” Oh, Derpy must have been watching. “No, I didn’t shake my head because of that. Just remembering the old me. But you’re the most unassuming person around. You don’t go flaunting your money in front of anyone. Sweet Celestia, nobody would know your mom was loaded by seeing how you act or how you treat others.”

Her eyes both locking on Sunset, Derpy frowned. “What’s our principal have to do with this?”

“N-nothing. It’s just an expression from when I was young. Anyway, if you have any influence on your mom, you probably could have gotten her to singlehandedly save Camp Everfree.”

“She was the biggest donor.”

Sunset’s eyebrows shot up. “For real? She went there when she was a student?”

“No,” Derpy answered with a shrug. “I just asked her to.”

Derpy had led her on a different route back to the hotel, but the building on the corner two blocks down looked a little familiar. Yeah, and the lights over there were the same ones she’d seen on the way to the restaurant, but it was dark out now.

As they passed an alley, a voice came from behind them: “Y’know, all this talk about money gives me an idea.”

A jolt shot through Sunset’s back, and she turned slowly. Oh crap.

Two men stood there. Sunset gathered a quick mental description. She might need it later. Both a little taller than her, in baggy jeans and faded t-shirts. One pale green with dark blue hair and a dartboard emblem on his belt buckle, the other a dull yellow with beige hair and a blackjack hand on his sleeve.

Without looking, Sunset reached back and corralled Derpy behind her.

The green one flicked open a switchblade and pretended to examine its edge. “Why don’t you just give me whatever you’re carryin’, and then we can have a real nice dinner, too.”

Fire escape behind them. Maybe she could jump for the ladder and either climb it or swing it at them. No, not climb it. That would leave Derpy behind. They couldn’t both get away. Nobody else around to shout for.

He ran his fingernails along the blade. “I’d say you could pay us another way, but—” he pointed the tip over Sunset’s shoulder, at Derpy “—not her. What the hell’s wrong with her eyes?”

Sunset clenched her jaw. Hard. Then a whisper from behind: “Can’t you pony up and use your magic or turn into Daydream or something?”

If only. “I had Twilight’s device for that. And my geode’s just for reading thoughts. I already know what these guys are thinking.”

Sunset flicked her eyes around furtively. Manhole cover. Only Applejack was strong enough to do much with that. Which meant she wouldn’t even need it. In the alley, garbage cans. Lid might make an okay shield. Empty beer bottle. Smash the end off? Not as good a weapon as his knife, but better than nothing.

He took a step closer.

Sunset didn’t even try hiding it anymore. She peered into the alley, but out of the corner of her eye, she saw Derpy starting to reach for her wallet. Beer bottle it was, then.

But behind it… a wooden baseball bat. Most of the handle broken off, but enough left to fuck someone up. Idiots. If they’d ambushed her halfway down the block, she’d have nothing to use.

He took a lunge at her, but Sunset dodged, still keeping Derpy behind her, and then the other one rushed her. She’d heard once before, no way to know if it’d work now—he let a punch fly, no way to avoid it, but she lowered her head. Top of the skull had thick bone, and as long as he didn’t knock her senseless…

Shit! She did see stars for a second, but now he was holding his fist and howling. Any luck, and he’d broken it. Knife guy was coming around again, and Sunset grabbed the bat out of the trash can and took a hack at him. He leaned in shoulder-first and took the hit on his arm, then slashed at Sunset, but she jerked her hips back as she felt the blade nick the loose flap of her jacket.

His momentum carried him past her, so she turned her attention back to fist guy. He tried to tackle her while still cradling that hand, so she aimed right for it, and he crumpled, screaming, as soon as she bashed it. Yeah, show a weak spot, and he’d better believe she’d make him pay! Ridiculing Derpy’s eyes? She swung again, right at his ugly face this time, and she would hit it over and over and over again, but Derpy had gasped.

“You leave her alone!” Derpy cried, and she leapt to grab knife guy’s arm, his weapon arcing toward Sunset’s neck. But Derpy missed, and he saw her reaching, and he changed his aim mid-swipe.

He caught her right on her outstretched hand, across the palm, down the wrist. Derpy screeched, and the blood…

The blood.

Sunset only saw him through flame and dark stormcloud, but not even those could hide him from her. She smashed him on the elbow, sending his knife skittering across the pavement before he could turn to face her again. Another swing, on the same side, up under that elbow, and she felt rib and muscle give.

Yelling now, maybe some of it him, maybe Derpy, maybe even Sunset. The two had taken off running, and Sunset surged after them. The one with the broken hand in front, but she’d didn’t care half as much about that one. “You fucking assholes!” she screamed. She caught up and belted him in the knee. He went down, tumbling, his friend leaving him behind. With a shuddering breath, Sunset lifted the bat high above her head and got ready to—

“Sunset!” finally broke through all the noise banging against her ears.

She blinked, and—and… he scooted out from under her, lurched to his feet, and limped away as fast as he could.

Derpy stood squarely in front of Sunset with a hand on her shoulder. “Sunset. Calm down. It’s me.”

Her chest heaving, Sunset blinked again. Her jaw so tight it hurt, and her hands, pulled down, further down, and Derpy took her own off Sunset’s shoulder, pulled, pulled at what? She looked, and Derpy was prying her fingers off the bat. “Let go,” Derpy said softly. “It’s over.”

Three fingers, now pulled away, and the rest came easier. The bat clattered on the sidewalk, and Sunset’s hands, covered with splinters and dripping blood, but… but not her blood. They shook.

“C’mon,” Derpy said, a little more intensely. “I’ll be okay. Stop crying. I need to go to the emergency room.” Who was crying? Sunset balled her fists, but her palms burned, and light fingers touched her cheek. “Shhh. It’s just me. Calm down.”

Like helping Applejack on her farm, when she’d drop a heavy hay bale and suddenly feel light on her feet, Sunset practically floated over the concrete. Then she nearly sank to her knees.

“C’mon.”

The nurse wrapped the last bit of bandage around Derpy’s hand. “There! That should heal up fine. It’s just a superficial cut, and you’re current on your tetanus vaccination. Once the local wears off, you might have a little pain, but you can take whatever you want for that. Now give me a minute, and I’ll bring you back a prescription for an antibiotic, just in case of infection.”

Sunset finally let out a long breath.

“See?” Derpy said. “Only a few stitches. Now, when she returns, won’t you let her look at your hands?”

Her fists still burned. They still shook.

“N-no, I’m fine.”

“For me?” That omnipresent gentle smile…

“You always float to the top. You know that?” Sunset tried a weak smile of her own.

“Hm?”

“No matter what, you don’t let it get you down.”

“I guess so.” Outside, a siren sounded, and several nurses rushed past, including Derpy’s. “Looks like someone else is in worse shape. We might be here a while.”

Sunset stared into her lap. “Your cutie mark is bubbles,” she muttered.

Leaning forward, Derpy peered around the corner, but they couldn’t see the entrance from here. The siren had stopped, though. “What’s a cutie mark?”

“You heard—? Never mind.”

“Oh, that’s right. You’re from somewhere else. Sometimes I forget that.” Derpy settled back against the pillow. Miraculously, none of the blood had gotten on her shirt.

“You ever notice how everyone seems to have some kind of symbol they wear all the time? Rarity’s three diamonds, Pinkie Pie’s balloons, Vice Principal Luna’s crescent moon.” Almost of their own accord, Sunset’s lips pursed. “I even have my sun,” Sunset continued, holding a hand to the picture on her chest. “I do it, too, and I’m not even sure why.”

With a quick shrug, Derpy resumed her smile. “I hadn’t really thought about it, but you’re right.”

“And your bubbles?”

Derpy turned her full attention on Sunset. “My what?”

“Somehow, Rarity knew. That skirt you look so hot in?” And of course Derpy blushed. “It had bubbles on it. And that really nice outfit you wore for the Battle of the Bands? You had bubbles on the boots. But your normal clothes don’t, and neither did what you took to Camp Everfree. By the way,” she said with a smirk, “you also look hot in that skirt. The one at the band competition.”

Soon enough, Derpy’s grin had faded, though. “I’ve never seen you that bad before. What you said, what you did. What you would have done.”

As if Sunset needed a reminder. But it still felt detached. Someone else, somewhere else. “You saved me from breaking myself,” Sunset said, “like you always do. I’m sorry you had to see that, though.”

“No, no, it’s not that, it’s… I was scared—not of you, but for you, and, well… it was kinda nice to know I mean that much to you.”

Sunset scooted out to the end of her chair and leaned over the edge of the gurney. She gave Derpy a hug, rested her head on Derpy’s shoulder. Her soft hair, the smell of the perfume she usually wore. She took a deep sniff. “Of course you do.”

Then a voice, from a little down the hall: “Right in here, ma’am.”

Prim Hemline rushed in, looking like she might burst into tears at any moment. “Muffins! Please, please tell me you’re alright!”

“It’s fine, Mom. Just a cut. I’m all stitched up.” Derpy raised her bandaged hand, and her mother gingerly cupped her own around it as if it were a baby bird.

“And you!” Prim whirled on Sunset so fast that she jerked back in her chair. “You were supposed to protect her! Do you think I let my daughter date some rehabilitated thug so you could stand back and watch her get mugged?”

Sunset could only gape and barely shake her head.

“Mom! She did protect me. She fought them off. Not that I’d make that a precondition of dating me!”

Prim must have been gripping Derpy’s hand more tightly—Derpy winced—and Prim had tears running down her face. “You’re my little girl! I always want you to be protected!”

“What about if I want to protect someone?”

“Sh-she did,” Sunset stammered. “She jumped in front, wh-when I—when I couldn’t see…” The adrenaline rush had finally worn off, and she uncurled one hand, staring at all the slivers of wood and spots of crusted blood around them. It shook, more and more.

“You don’t look good,” Derpy said.

“Heh. Then why are y-you dating me?” Sunset forced a grin.

But Derpy pointed down, with her good hand. “No, look at your pants, over by your hip. Where’d that blood come from?”

“Your hand.” Sunset wobbled back, and flecks of glitter seemed to float in the air. Everything sounded… metallic.

Derpy rolled over, leaned past her mother. Her face looked so big, like Sunset couldn’t see anything else. “No, I didn’t touch you there. Look, it’s dripping!”

Down, on the floor. Sunset glanced under her chair. A few drops, a few more. Then the black started closing in.

What? She felt like she was spinning, but she couldn’t see anything, couldn’t hear. How long? She tried to open her eyes, but nothing worked. How long?

Then a sharp smell, and she blinked away the blackness. The same nurse from before hovered over her, holding a little packet of smelling salts. Another had pulled the side of Sunset’s shirt up and was… stitching?

“How long?” Sunset asked. Her head still swam.

“Just a couple minutes or so,” Derpy answered. “You fainted.”

The nurse bent down by her side paused to look up, and somehow, Derpy was in the chair now. They’d gotten Sunset on the gurney. “You both lucked out,” the nurse said. “Nothing important got hit. I’ll have you sewn up in just a minute.”

It felt weird. Numb, mostly, but the thread, tugging and sliding. And finally her eyelids didn’t seem like they weighed a ton. Then she looked around. “Where’d your mom go?”

“To flag down a doctor and see if she could get the prescription order. She’s not keen on hanging around here longer than she has to.”

“You’re her daughter.”

But Derpy shook her head. “It’s not about that. She just wants me back in the hotel, where it’s safe and calm.”

Safe and calm. That spelled Derpy. It also made her want to ask… but later. After the nurses left. The first one now had Sunset’s palms laid flat. She was picking out splinters with a pair of tweezers and occasionally dabbing some iodine stuff on the worst of the cuts.

She lay back into the pillow and let it happen. And soon enough, only Derpy remained in the curtained-off area. So Sunset took a long breath and: “Derpy, what do you get out of this? You’re just the sweetest girl, and you’re cute, and you keep my head in a good place, but what makes you want to deal with a psycho like me?”

Derpy watched her, both eyes, together. And she smiled. “You respect me. A lot. You always have.”

She’d said something like that before. “You told me I was nice to you. Even when I wasn’t nice to anyone else.”

Right away, Derpy nodded. “Yes! My first year of high school, before everyone had grown up much, and I still got teased. But you never did. The one person I had no doubt would insult me endlessly, but you didn’t, not even once. And the way you looked at me in science class. Not like the condescending… disdain you showed the whole school.”

Of course, Prim showed up right then, and Derpy never wanted to talk as much around her. Yet she continued: “So I asked you out. Took a few years, but I did.”

“Wait,” Prim said, stopping short, “you asked out the Fall Formal Queen?”

“Three years running,” Sunset added with a grimace. “Like I said, Derpy always rises to the top, and she doesn’t let anything get her down. If I’d said no—”

“Then I’m no worse off,” Derpy finished. “But you might say yes, so why not? And even if not, I knew you wouldn’t make fun of me for it.”

Prim stared off into the distance for a minute, but then she flapped the slips of paper in her hand. “You two ready to go? I got both of your prescriptions.”

Derpy stood up, so Sunset slowly swung her legs off the gurney and attempted to remain upright. A little unsteady, but manageable.

Prim led the way out, but Derpy and Sunset hung back a little. Sunset would have held hands with her, but they weren’t feeling so great. Derpy did reach her good hand around Sunset’s waist, though, and Sunset leaned her head on Derpy’s shoulder. Derpy even turned for a quick kiss.

“And her name is Muffins,” Prim called back.

“See?” Derpy said. “I told you she likes you.”