Aria Blaze brushed her fingers along a grimy brick wall as she lurched down the sidewalk, the dying sunlight halfway blinding her. Just another fifteen minutes, and she'd be home, for whatever good that'd do her.

If only she could work the same shift at Bullseye as Adagio. If only she could work for Adagio, but she'd already heard several times how that would complicate things. People would make assumptions about both of them, and… better if they kept as separated as possible, at least on the job. So Adagio headed up the housewares department during the evening shift, while Aria had afternoons in electronics. Who knew she'd turn out to be pretty good at troubleshooting that stuff?

She couldn't help smiling, for a half-second anyway. To hear the workplace gossip, Adagio was on the short list to be promoted to assistant manager of the whole store soon. The big boss really believed in her, and his husband seemed to like her a lot, too. People… liking Adagio. It still sounded strange to her, except… she liked Adagio, too, who for her part kept saying she loved Aria. It took a while, but Aria finally, maybe—maybe understood what that was? And maybe, in return, lov—

Aria shook her head. All that only made it harder. If she didn't give a damn, she could shrug it off, but now she had to deserve it.

Adagio always rode the bus to and from work, but Aria preferred to walk. It saved a bit of money and gave her time to think. Today, it gave her time to think about how to admit her failure to Adagio.

Some customer—she pounded a fist on the wall and bared her teeth—had gotten mad about them being sold out of something, and no matter what Aria said, the lady kept yelling and threatening to get her fired. Even thinking about that word got her heart racing. All that Adagio had done for her, and it could end, just like that? She'd wandered away from her post to see where the lady went, and sure enough, she made a beeline for the business office and asked for the manager.

Her skin had crawled, her body shook, and she spent the rest of the day feeling like she'd keel over if she didn't keep her knees rigid. Waiting, just waiting to be told she shouldn't bother coming back again, and every time the office door opened, her heart nearly stopped. Tomorrow. They'd tell her tomorrow. Everything was her fault. Her whole life had gone that way, so why would it change? Adagio would be so angry.

Would she kick Aria out? Make her quit art school? No longer be her sister, no longer love—?

A year ago, she would have had a simple solution: get drunk. Get drunk until she didn't care anymore, until she couldn't even remember what had gotten her upset, until she couldn't even remember that there was something to remember. Then do it again and again and again. She could practically taste it, the kind of vodka the cheap convenience stores always carried, back when she'd gotten so skinny that she could tuck two bottles in her jacket and still not look like she was stealing anything.

It made her problems go away, but she'd promised, she'd promised. She'd promised Adagio she'd try her hardest not to do that anymore. If Adagio was going to throw her out anyway, then what did it matter?

She pulled her phone out of her pocket and scrolled through the contacts to Adagio's name. Adagio might help her, at least until she found out why. No, no, she was still in the middle of her shift—Aria shouldn't bother her. One drink, one little drink.

And then she noticed the sign. Some colorful chalk drawing about a daily special, a glass with fruit slices and ice cubes, and who cared what else, because it teemed with liquor, cool and inviting. She licked her lips. She coughed, her heart skipped a beat—Adagio would kill her if she did this. When had a bar even opened on this street? There was nothing else here. Just warehouses and vacant lots. No restaurants, no shopping. The only people who'd go to a bar around here would be desperate—

Her knees almost buckled, but she was dead anyway. What was one more thing to have Adagio hate her for? With a gulp, she pushed open the odd door and walked inside.

Sunset picked up the last of the books and notes and put them together in a neat pile before carrying them to her office. Her life since becoming a bartender had taken some interesting twists, with the bar itself turning into a sort of interdimensional meeting place for some groups, and her own wall of personal guests growing picture after picture. From Gilda and her wheelchair-bound counterpart, to an escapee from a fascist army hell-bent on conquering a magical world, and her robot. The decorations on the wall had also increased, with the signed Villian Court poster, the crossed guitars, and occasional well-meaning magical diagrams left behind by wizards of a large variety of worlds. And like her bar, she now had additional duties, such as roomie to a ghost, and magic teacher to a gifted teenage duck.

'And I wouldn't change it for anything,' she thought, smiling as she closed the door to her office behind her. She pulled out a fresh rag and dusting spray and proceeded to clean up the area she had been working at earlier with Lena. She never knew when she'd be getting a new guest, so it was best practice to keep the bar spotless as much as she could.

As if her thoughts had summoned one, the door to the bar opened, producing a clear, crystalline chime when the silver bell at the entrance shook. Whoever it was paused a moment before coming in, but soon enough Sunset could hear the hesitant, almost reluctant steps approaching.

'Biped,' Sunset thought, 'and alone, so a bar seat is best.' She picked up one of the menus and placed it in front of her, on top of the bar, right across from one of the stools. She took a quick glance down the bar to make sure everything was in place, and by the time she turned back to the entrance hallway, Aria Blaze stood there, looking suspiciously around, and then narrowing her eyes when she noticed her.

Unlike the last time she'd seen any of the sirens, she wasn't wearing her usual punk style clothes, but rather some sort of work uniform, with khaki slacks and a red polo shirt with a logo under it she couldn't really make out past Aria's jacket. She had clearly just finished a day on the job. And she appeared miserable. She also fidgeted like she wanted to bolt, so Sunset quickly motioned her in with a gentle wave of her hand.

"Hey, welcome to Sunset's Isekai! This is my little multiverse bar, so even if you know me in your world, I'm actually not the Sunset you know."

Aria shuffled in a bit more and licked her lips, her eyes going over the whole selection of alcohol behind Sunset, who had to wonder if the siren had even heard her at all.

"Come on, have a seat, let me get you something," Sunset said, putting her hand down on the menu and motioning with her head to the stool.

Aria blinked and focused on her, eyes narrowing once more. She hesitated, then slowly approached the stool, as if she was fighting herself. Just as her hands hovered above the bar, she stopped. "I," she rasped out, "I don't have any cash… I should—"

"Hey," Sunset said gently, "don't worry about it, the first one's on me. And you can nurse it as much as you want. Seems like you need to relax more than anything. It's safe in here."

"Heh," Aria chuckled under her breath as her shoulders slumped and she slid onto her seat. "That's what they always say." She took a deep, despondent breath, then peered up, but not at Sunset. Once again, her eyes were on the alcohol behind her. "So, what can I get for that first free drink? Bottom shelf?"

Sunset felt herself frown. "No, I meant it. Just… some of the stuff behind me might be toxic to carbon-based life forms, so why don't you choose something from the menu? Don't worry about the price, I said the first one was on me."

Looking slightly more intrigued, Aria picked up the proffered menu and opened it, her eyes scanning the listed items. "These are all virgin drinks."

Sunset blinked. "Wait, that's not right." She reached over, pulling the menu from Aria's unresisting grasp and flipped it around so she could see inside. "That's weird, that should have changed automatically."

"It's a piece of paper, Shimmer. That doesn't change by itself."

"Magic," Sunset countered, shaking the menu, even though that would achieve nothing. Shrugging, she put it down and, after checking it showed actual alcoholic drinks in it—her personal favorite beers and cocktails were there—she passed it onto Aria.

Aria snorted, then flipped the menu around. "Alright, Shimmer, what's your game? You can't tell a gal that she can have a free drink and offer her lemonade."

"I really don't know what's happening with these things," Sunset said, taking the menu and putting it back on its shelf. "I'll have to check into the spells later. Anyway, uh, most of the stuff on the left of the bar will not kill a human, from the second shelf up to the fourth."

"Can't I just choose something I'm familiar with?" Aria asked, leaning forth to examine the labels more carefully. But she'd bit her lip, balled her hands into fists, and practically dug her fingernails into her palms. Most people should look happy choosing from the high-end stuff. "How about a whiskey?" she wheezed out. "I see a bunch of them, but no specific labels I recognize. Something nice, that goes down smoothly."

"Well…" Sunset said, reaching up to grab a cut crystal bottle with a fancy golden logo containing many, many silver circles and no discernible name. "Don't laugh, but I'm partial to Gallifreyan Distilled Sunshine."

"I don't know what that is," Aria said, "but the bottle doesn't seem cheap."

"Oh, it isn't," Sunset laughed, trying to pull it down. "But I figured—" she pulled, frowning when it wouldn't budge from its place "—that we might as well nurse something worthwhile for a change." She pulled again. "Dammit."

She let go and picked up a small collapsible three-step stair, opening it and climbing so she had a better angle to pull. "What is going on?" she wondered, when the bottle could have been made from adamantium and fused to the shelf for all her effort.

"Geez, Sunset, if you didn't want to give me that free drink, I'll take some of the cheap stuff, you don't have to pretend." She averted her gaze. "'S what I'm used to anyway," she muttered.

"I'm not pretending!" Sunset hissed. It actually hurt a little to hear that. Her bar was not a place to exploit other people. It was a place to help! "I just…" She trailed off, grabbing another bottle, but the same thing happened. She tried once more, from another shelf. The bottle didn't budge. "It's as if the bar itself doesn't want—" 'Oh.'

She slowly got down from the staircase. "You know, why don't we talk over here, come on." She smiled and motioned for Aria to follow, who did with a roll of her eyes and a longing sigh when she caught sight of the drinks. Sunset took her guest to the rear of the bar, near the jukebox, which was thankfully not playing anything at the moment. She pulled out one of the chairs facing the wall, where a framed poster for the Klingon version of Romeo and Juliet hung in all its figurative goriness—most people couldn't decipher exactly what was happening, which was why she had kept it—and made sure that Aria was sitting comfortably before taking the seat across from her.

"I do have a lot of good non-alcoholic drinks, you know?" Sunset said gently, watching Aria suddenly stare into her lap and tense her shoulders as if a trickle of ice had run down her spine. "They're still on the house. Would you like one? How does a Club Soda sound? Or a lemonade? I have Virgin Piña Coladas."

Aria looked away.

Sunset tapped her fingers on the table, biting her lip. "Hey, how about a Duck Dodgers?" she asked. "It's named after a real duck."

Her guest's face turned back to her, eyes tired. "A duck."

"Yep." Sunset motioned with her hand to the wall beside Aria, where pictures of her previous guests lent their warmth, including the gang from Duckburg. "Magical bar, remember?"

"You're not joking?"

"Nope, it's basically cola, grenadine, and a maraschino cherry. Simple and sweet."

Aria sighed. "Fine."

"You'll like it, I think." Sunset nodded. "But, if you don't, don't worry about it, we'll try something else. I'll be right back."

She stood and walked to the bar, casting a glance at the table only to see Aria had leaned over her crossed arms and was gently banging her head on them, as if she was berating herself. Sunset shook her head and concentrated on making the simple drink, and another one for herself.

Once they were ready, she carried them both to the table, and this time sat next to Aria, putting both drinks closer to the center of the table, to give her a chance to recuperate without much risk of knocking them on the floor. Having her back to everything in the bar felt strange, but she could only imagine what it was like for Aria, if her guesses as to why she hadn't been allowed to serve her alcohol were right.

When Aria didn't react, Sunset gently put her hand on her shoulder. "Hey, Aria?" she whispered. "Are you doing alright?"

Aria immediately looked at the ceiling, her chin quivering and tears pooling in the corners of her eyes. "Why do you want to know? Huh? What do you want from me?"

"I don't—" Sunset hadn't noticed exactly when, but Aria was staring directly at her now and… smiling a little?

"Nobody's nice to me unless they have a reason."

"Nobody?" Sunset asked. Aria only let out a ragged sigh. "Maybe I do have a reason. Maybe my reason is that I want to help."

"You want to help." Aria sniffled hard, so Sunset pointed out the napkin dispenser. Sure enough, Aria took two or three and blew her nose into the wad of paper.

It didn't exactly come as a surprise that a siren might not trust her. "Like I said, I'm not the Sunset you know. The whole point of this bar—" she waved a hand around "—is to give a moment of rest to someone who's desperate for it. I don't pick and choose who or what comes through the door. If you need to relax, the bar is there. It sort of chooses on its own." That earned her another eye roll from Aria.

"But it always finds a way to help," Sunset continued, "and I'm lucky I get to help, too, no matter who it is. As long as they behave themselves, but you don't come across as someone who'll cause trouble."

One more sniffle, then Aria's faint smile returned. "Adagio's told me a little about you, or… not you. Sunset. Her Sunset." She closed her eyes and shook her head. "Whatever. You sound a lot like her."

Adagio's Sunset? 'Now that's a story I'd like to hear,' she thought. "I'm glad there's another me helping out," she said, smiling. "But right now, I'm here for you." She leaned back and looked around at the bar. "I understand now why it wouldn't let me serve you some things, but it doesn't make sense that it would appear to you just for that… it seems that you have something else on your mind. Do you want to talk about it?"

Instead of answering, Aria reached over for her drink, sliding it closer and picking up the cherry to bite into it. She chewed on it silently and swallowed before sipping a bit of the drink itself through the straw. She didn't watch Sunset, simply content to study the glass in front of her. "Did you really open this place to help, or was it something that just happened?"

Sunset briefly considered trying to get back onto Aria's topic, but the girl really looked like pressure was not something that would help at all. "I opened it because a Rarity I met had recently come out of a rough relationship," she said, leaning on the table with her elbows. "She needed someone to talk to, and I offered her a drink at my place. She suggested that if I ever decided to have my own bar, she'd help me set it up and…" She shrugged.

"But you can't possibly make money this way," Aria argued. "One guest at a time?"

Sunset chuckled. "I was worried about that at the beginning, but I have two types of guests now," she said, lifting a pair of fingers, "casual and personal. Casuals… how to describe them? The multiverse is… vast, and my bar has become popular with some groups that are able to explore it as a neutral place to meet and relax. I have a group of captains from different ships who meet here every couple of months, and a bunch of grumpy wizards who like to meet every six months, for example. Personal guests are… my guests." She looked at the pictures on the wall, and Aria followed her gaze. "They come here to talk, maybe even leave feeling better, although a lot of the time it's me who ends up learning something."

"So, what, you're trying to teach people lessons about life?"

Sunset shook her head. "No, nothing so pretentious. I just like talking to people and hope that them talking to me helps. I've… picked up a student." She pointed at Lena, who had her own picture with Sunset. "I'm teaching her magic."

"Another duck."

"A very smart one, too!" Sunset said with a fond smile. "I also have a ghost friend who stays over occasionally, and I met both because they had problems of their own. All of the people you see there had a need to be here and talk about what was going on with their lives." She took a deep breath. "Sometimes all it takes to figure things out or make a plan, or even simply to feel a little better, is someone to listen and not judge. That's what I'm here for, and what the bar was opened for. The rest is icing on the cake."

Aria hesitated, then swirled her drink, clinking the ice cubes together with the straw before downing a large gulp. "I had a really bad day today at work."

Sunset nodded, trying not to congratulate herself on getting through. She watched as Aria retreated into herself slightly, crossing her arms and lowering her head. She appeared vulnerable right now, like she wanted to keep it all in, but couldn't anymore.

"I fucked up. Adagio went through all this trouble to get me clean and get me a job and I just… had to be an idiot."

"What happened?" Sunset asked, reaching over and putting her hand on Aria's shoulder again. She felt the siren flinch slightly, but she didn't pull away.

"This lady came into the store and she kept screaming and shouting at me because we didn't have what she wanted. I offered to get it for her from another store, or even find it so she could go and get it if it was urgent, but she just wanted it there and now, and she blamed it all on me!"

"But how is that your fault?" Sunset asked.

"I don't know!" Aria said miserably, eyes watering up. "I tried everything. It didn't matter. She blamed me in front of everyone in the store, then she went and complained to my manager."

Sunset frowned and was about to say something, but Aria continued.

"I can't fuck this up," she whispered. "Adagio got me the job. She got me into art school, she's tutoring me after work so I can get my GED. This job is my only contribution to our living situation… If I can't even do this, I'm just wasting her time. She'll throw me out!"

"Hey," Sunset said, "take it easy, alright? I don't know about the Sunset from your world, but in mine I worked at a sushi bar for a while, and I had one or two customers like that. They went to complain to the boss, and they heard them out, but they knew it wasn't my fault."

"But you didn't—" Aria gritted her teeth and tensed, before visibly forcing herself to calm down. "You didn't have to go through rehab. You didn't walk in with a history in your paperwork, or with behavioural problems. Even if it's not my fault, it's still my fault."

Sunset hummed. "I don't know about that. Were you called in to talk to your manager?"

Aria cleared her throat. "No."

"I would think if it was a big deal and they didn't want you there, they would do that quickly, right?"

"No, because Adagio is also a manager! She's getting promoted and me messing up is going to make her lose that chance if she stands up for me! I don't deserve her help and she's giving it and I'm going to screw it all up!"

"Aria," Sunset said, squeezing her shoulder a little, "I'm sure she's okay with that. I'm sure she trusts you for good reason, and if her word is strong enough to get you the interview and job there, then she's earned it."

Aria gave her a morose glare. "Oh? And why should she? I promised her I'd be clean, and yet here I am, walking into a bar in the hopes of drowning my grief in alcohol." She looked down at the drink on the table. "I was going to do it, you know? I didn't really want to… but I wanted it bad enough to betray everyone who trusts me."

"Ah." It was now Sunset's turn to clear her throat. "So… she knows that you have… drinking issues."

Aria rolled her eyes. "Yes."

"But she knows that you went to rehab and that you've been trying your best, right?"

"Yeah."

"I can't… really speak for her about this kind of thing," Sunset said slowly. "I think it's best if you discuss that directly with her."

Aria's eyes went wide. "No. I can't! She'll be so disappointed, Sunset!"

"You know… I realize it's not the same, but… well, I can understand a little of what you're going through. In my world, after I was cleansed by the Elements of Harmony, I still had a lot of ground to cover and a lot of things to fix and people to convince I had changed. When you girls went to Canterlot High, everyone immediately thought I was back to being evil."

Aria nodded, frowning a bit and poking her straw at the bubbles fizzing up from her drink. "I remember."

"I've lost my cool more than once," Sunset continued, "and… it really doesn't look good for people like us, right? Others immediately jump to conclusions. And fighting for it is hard. So hard that it hurts. There was one time when someone erased all memory of me being reformed from everyone in Canterlot… but I stuck through it, and I believe you can, too." She canted her head toward Aria. "You three have been here for a long time, through thick and thin—she'll know how hard you're trying."

She stood up and walked over to the far wall, selecting a couple of pictures from there and bringing them back to the table. "Sometimes it's… really hard," she said, showing Aria the picture of herself and a younger Rarity. "She had to give up her love for someone very dear so she could move on with her life, but now she's healing and stronger than before." She pulled out the other picture, the one of her counterpart and Gilda. "They were my first guests. Imagine seeing myself roll in in a wheelchair?" She laughed. "They both went through a lot. Sunset got blamed for something she didn't do, and as a result of an attempt at revenge, she lost the use of her legs." She pointed at Gilda. "Gilda lost her arm and almost fell into despair. But they stuck through it, and when they came in? They were the happiest couple you could imagine."

Aria stared at the pictures in contemplative silence.

"What I'm saying is that it's worth it. It's harder than other people will understand, but it's still definitely worth it," Sunset insisted. "And talking to Adagio is the next step for you to move forward. Hiding it is not going to help anyone."

"I—" Aria gulped. "I don't know. She's at work, so it's going to have to wait right?"

Sunset raised an eyebrow, very deliberately staring at Aria, who fidgeted in place. "You know this place exists outside of time and space, right? Do you mind if I bring her in, then?"

"But—"

"Aria." Sunset took a paper towel and cleaned the siren's face gently. "It'll be okay. This isn't ripping off the bandage just to get the pain over with. This is having the confidence to know Adagio will understand. She obviously cares about you. I can feel it in my gut. And considering all the places that feeling has gotten me through safely, I'm comfortable enough saying it to you."

Aria didn't speak, but merely nodded a little, which was all Sunset's Isekai needed. The door to the bar rattled briefly, then the silver bell chimed, announcing the arrival of a second guest. Both women turned around to see an utterly bewildered Adagio standing at the entrance to the bar, still in her work clothes. "Um, Aria?" she called out. "Did you redecorate?"

Her eyes then focused, and she saw the both of them, with Sunset already standing up. Adagio grinned ear to ear and rushed through the place to give her a hug. "Sunset!" She nearly bowled Sunset over. "I didn't know you'd met Aria before! Or did you come to visit on your own?"

Quickly, Sunset waved a hand in front of her. "I didn't—"

"Did you help with this?" Adagio whispered, her eyes fixing on the shelves of bottles. "You might not know, but bar decor probably isn't the best choice for…"

Sunset nodded with a smile, and Adagio must have come to trust her somehow, because she immediately brightened. "We have it covered. You don't have to worry."

With a shrug, Adagio sat down next to Aria, but her gaze remained fixed on Sunset, and the longer she looked, the more she squinted. "Something's off," she said as she curled an arm around Aria's shoulders, but she'd clearly missed Aria starting to tremble.

"I'm… not your Sunset." Better to get through this for Aria's sake. "Let's just leave it that this bar is open to people who need to talk, whatever universe they might come from. I can give you the long version later, but—"

Adagio chuckled. "Magic, then. You don't have to say any more." She finally leaned into the back of her seat and took a deep breath. "That explains why you didn't call me Amber when you first saw me."

"Amber…?"

"I'll trade you long stories sometime," Adagio replied with a smirk.

"Wow, you sound like you have quite the friendship with your Sunset." Something about that always sent a warm feeling through her. Maybe she'd never connected with Adagio in her universe, but one somewhere else did, so it was at least possible. That kind of counted for her too, right? To borrow a word from Rainbow Dash, it just seemed awesome that all these versions of her made friends with the most unexpected people.

Adagio hugged her free arm across her chest and smiled, but she soon broke into a frown. "People who need to talk? I don't, so who'd you open for?"

With her lips pursed, Sunset rolled her eyes toward Aria, who still hadn't so much as glanced up at Adagio. She silently reached for another napkin and shivered faintly. "Aria?" Adagio said, grasping her by the shoulders and turning her, but Aria kept her face angled away. "What's wrong?"

Aria sniffled at first and couldn't get out what she wanted to say. If Adagio really liked her Sunset as much as it appeared, she wouldn't mind a little pre-emptive strike. "I told Aria that you'd understand. That you care about her no matter what."

A small laugh erupted from Aria's throat. "Seems like somebody's told me that before," she said weakly, finally meeting Adagio's gaze.

Adagio gave her a squeeze. "It's okay. She's right, you know. Whatever universe she comes from, she's a lot like the Sunset I know. Go on. You can tell me," Adagio said, leaning her forehead against Aria's.

"I had a nasty customer who yelled and screamed because we didn't have something in stock—" she paused to sniffle and wipe her napkin across her nose again "—and said she would get me fired, and of course everything's my fault, and if I lost the job you got me…"

"That was you?" Adagio replied, her eyes widening. When she got a nod in return, she continued: "Look, bad customers just happen. Don't let it get to you. I've had to deal with so many—"

"I already told her," Sunset said with a grimace. "You deal with customers, eventually you'll get one of the psychos."

Aria had finally stopped quaking. "I didn't want to disappoint you," she said.

"I heard a couple of the other employees talking about that in the break room. The manager, too. They've all had that happen to them, and—hey… hey," she said, taking Aria's drooping head and lifting it back up to meet her eyes. "Everyone was on your side. Nobody's mad. You didn't do anything wrong."

Adagio patted Aria's shoulder, and she probably expected her to sit up, feel better, smile… except the worst was still to come. Sunset took the seat opposite them and reached across to touch Aria's wrist.

"That's not all," Aria squeaked, burying her face in her hands. "I was so sure I'd get fired, that I'd lose everything good I had going on, that…" A sob jolted her shoulders. "I came in here."

Adagio's frown deepened. "But you're here to talk about your problems. There's nothing wrong with…"

Aria shook her head.

"…Oh." Briefly, a fire shone in Adagio's eyes as they flicked from the glass in front of Aria to Sunset.

"It's basically a cherry cola," Sunset said quietly in reply to the unasked question.

Then Adagio pulled Aria's limp form against her, wrapped her arms around Aria's waist and held her. "But you didn't."

"But I wanted to," Aria said, punctuating it by jutting her head forward. "I wanted to, so bad. So bad."

"But you didn't."

"I would have. I came in, ordered a whiskey—" she rubbed the back of her hand under her nose "—and I would have. But Sunset wouldn't… couldn't give it to me."

Adagio inhaled slowly and let it out as a long sigh. She mouthed a thank-you to Sunset.

"I have a magical construct that is constantly active," Sunset replied. She raised an eyebrow and cocked her head toward the countertop. "It's supposed to inform me of certain discrepancies with dimensional rules, such as minimum age to drink, and that kind of stuff. Apparently the bar can also tell if someone is trying to quit, which… took me a moment to realize."

With Aria slouching further into Adagio's embrace, Adagio unclasped one of her hands to run her fingers through Aria's pigtail. "You don't have to be perfect."

"I have to deserve what you did for me."

At Adagio's laugh, Aria peered behind her. "You sound like me," Adagio said, her laughter finally abating, "when Sunset first helped me."

Aria slid down further, Adagio's arm now across her chest and her free hand stroking the tightly gathered hair on top of Aria's head. "Do you think I'm perfect?" Adagio asked.

From her angle, Adagio wouldn't have seen it, but Aria's face formed into a pout. "Well… no."

"Good. And in my… imperfection—"

She barely got the word out before she broke out laughing again, so hard that Sunset couldn't help joining in. Just the ridiculousness of it all: two former demon queens and an alcoholic sitting together in a bar, having an incredibly serious conversation, with no booze in sight, and each one of them… genuinely good people now. Even Aria let out a snort and wiped her running nose with a fresh napkin.

Adagio brushed off a few tears of her own. "Shit, I was a mess back then." Aria glanced behind her once more, a questioning eyebrow raised. "But if in my imperfection—" one last giggle leaked out, then her voice softened, and she laid her hand on Aria's shoulder "—I deserved what Sunset did for me, then don't you deserve the same? Didn't I already decide you were worth it?"

Aria shrugged feebly. "Things change."

"Do you know how few people can recover from some kind of addiction on the first try? You've done remarkably well."

Slowly, Aria drew her legs up onto the seat and wrapped her arms around her knees. Then her brow furrowed the way Sunset expected her own must have when Princess Twilight told her those other girls, her sworn enemies only minutes ago, would show her what friendship meant.

"There will be temptation," Adagio continued. "There might even be relapses. I hope not, but if they happen, we'll deal with them. But through it all, I'll never stop caring about you."

Sunset craned her neck sideways to catch Aria's eye. She couldn't fight the slightly smug grin from sprouting on her lips. "Told ya."

Adagio momentarily chuckled, then she resumed stroking one of Aria's pigtails. "A really smart person—Sunset, in fact—once told me it's a hard thing to learn that people can care about you. I sure do, and… don't you like some of the other people you work with?"

"Yeah," Aria replied, the whimper gone from her voice. "We take breaks together, talk, sometimes hang out a bit."

"It probably hadn't occurred to you, but those people like you."

Aria's back went rigid, and her eyes widened, but just as quickly, she relaxed.

"Count me in, too," Sunset added. "I've only gotten a chance to talk to you briefly, but you are a good person, Aria, I can tell, and definitely someone I wouldn't mind talking to more."

"And most important of all, add yourself to that list," Adagio said. "I told you long ago you had to learn to love yourself, to forgive yourself. Don't do this because you think you owe it to me. Do it because it's good for you." She waited for Aria to nod. "And if you need me anytime, you call, okay? I don't care what hour it is. I can take a break, or we're allowed time off to deal with family situations—" she poked Aria's arm "—and you are family."

A hint of a smile burrowed across Aria's face, but it faded. "What if I want a drink again though?"

"I know."

"What if I want it… I want it so bad I can't stand it?"

"I know."

"What if I lose it and fail?"

"I know." Adagio hugged her.

Sunset beamed at that: don't remove the responsibility, but don't lose the empathy either. And with a loving support behind it. ‘I don't think I could have threaded that needle any better myself,' she thought. 'It's definitely a lesson to keep in mind.'

"I'll keep in mind that we need to talk more at home, too. You shouldn't have to rely on just the phone," Adagio said. Then she slid Aria's glass to her. "That smells pretty good, actually," she remarked as she turned to Sunset. "You mind brewing me up one of those?"

"Of course," Sunset said, "I'll be right back." She stood and walked over to mix another drink. "And for the record, Aria, I'm going to give you one of my cards. You can use it to get back to my bar, and I'll make sure to serve you something delicious and non-alcoholic, and also lend you an ear to help you work out whatever might be bothering you."

Once she had returned to deliver Adagio's drink, she sat across from them. "So, wasn't there a third siren? Sonata?"

"Yeah," Adagio answered, an odd twist to her mouth. "Like us, a work in progress. She's not depressed or anything, more—" she raised an eyebrow at Aria "—oblivious?"

Aria smiled and nodded.

"Oblivious to realizing she deserves good things, too. Plus you have to chip away at her a little at a time, since she basically has no attention span. But she'll get there."

Jiggling her glass, Aria nudged a chunk of ice into her mouth and crunched on it. "When Adagio makes a project out of you," she mumbled through her mouthful, "she doesn't soon give up."

"And I still have the scar to prove it," Adagio replied, rubbing a hand on her ribs.

At first, Aria narrowed her eyes, but then she let out an exasperated breath as Adagio hugged her closer. "Small price to pay," Adagio said into her ear, eliciting a giggle, then faced Sunset. "Aria's actually done the most for her, y'know? We don't see her that often, since she still goes to Canterlot High. Sunset and I started out trying to help her not long after I'd found Aria, but lately, Aria's the one Sonata really connects with. Isn't that cool?"

"It has a nice symmetry to it," Sunset said with a huge grin. Teach someone to fish, as they liked to say in the human world, but in Sunset's experience, friendship worked in an infinitely more satisfying way: teach someone to fish, and they'll teach someone else to fish.

Aria glanced at Sunset with a one-sided smile. "We might need to bring her here sometime."

"The more, the merrier, or—" Sunset shrugged "—knowing this place, the more the tearier, but it's all for the best."

Adagio drained her beverage. "Mm. That’s pretty good." She'd finished surreptitiously scanning the small menu card on the table, and she pulled a few bills out of her wallet.

Sunset held up her hands. "Hey, I said it was on the house."

"Hers," Adagio said, rolling her eyes toward Aria. "I figured, since she doesn't carry cash, but I do, so I can cover us."

"Still." Sunset had attended this particular dance often enough to know how it ended.

"It's going in the tip jar either way," Adagio answered, of course, and Sunset laughed.

"I never win those, you know?" Sunset said with a fake sigh of defeat. "Even if it's my pleasure to have them visit. At least I got to—" she made quotation signs with her fingers "—argue a little with you. When Celestia and Luna came in for their fellow princess last time, they just dropped a sack of gold bits on the counter and pretty much left." She inhaled deeply, and her eyes sparkled at both sirens. "I guess I should be dropping you off."

"We do have homework to do," Adagio acknowledged, smiling back. "And we'd better do that before it gets too late."

"You know, this exists outside time and space, but I get it. Just remember that for next time you visit, alright? Either of you." Sunset felt herself grinning as Aria stood up. She went forth and gave her a gentle hug. "I'm glad I got to meet you."

Aria looked slightly tense, but relaxed into the hug briefly before they parted. "Yeah. Same."

"Before you go," Sunset said, "we have a tradition here." She nodded towards the pictures on the wall. "So how about we get one together?"

"That sounds great," Adagio replied, stepping over to stand by Sunset and Aria. Sunset's phone levitated under her magic, and the three posed together in front of all the other pictures. When it had clicked and returned to them, Sunset showed it to the sirens. "See? It's all friends here."

Adagio laughed and hugged Sunset. "You really are as nice as my Sunset here."

"Remember to tell me that story when we next meet," Sunset said, "and bring her and Sonata along. I'd like to meet them too."

Adagio nodded. "Will do," she said, walking with Aria out of the bar.

'I really like this one,' Sunset thought as she hung the newest picture on the wall. It had been a moment of inspiration at the time, but it reflected a lot of her earlier thoughts about the value of her bar, and what it meant to her personal guests. Aria, Adagio and herself, with the pictures of others that had been here before in the background, was a sort of statement about her clientele. Creatures seeking a moment of peace and to unload their own stress, reinforcing that this place—her bar—was much more than a place to drink.

That someone struggling through things like Aria could come in here defeated and anxious, but leave calm, reassured and smiling… that was the real value she wanted to share. Sure, the parties, the interdimensional groups that drifted there and even the occasional adventure with Rarity added spice to the mix, but it was this—listening, encouraging, teaching Lena, or giving a ghost a sanctuary, that made the whole thing worth it for her.

She glanced around her bar fondly. There was a sense that it approved. It was weird, and comforting, as she knew it probably felt for her guests when they went back home.

With a chuckle, she cleaned up the glasses and wiped the table clean before heading behind the bar and pulling out all the stuff she still needed to do. It never got dull here, after all, so she'd have a new guest before she knew it. Sunset paused and peered at the racks of alcohol behind her, then gently picked up a bottle, smiling in relief when she did so without issue.

She scanned over the gallery on the wall and hoped she'd see all of her friends again at some point.

"But for now," she said, picking up a pen, "homework."

Author's Notes:

Thanks go to Pascoite for letting me revisit this world of his and play in it with him. If you haven't read Ambergris, it's really, really recommended.