Flopping back on her pillows with a sigh, Sunset cuddled into her blankets to ward off the chill. The weather had definitely turned to cold with the passing of October into early November, and she needed to repair the heating unit again—something of a yearly necessity with the aged system. It wasn't warming her loft like it should, which was the first major warning sign that meant it was about to crap out again.

Sparkling purple eyes and an eager voice asking about her forays into mechanics surfaced in her mind, making her idly muse on whether or not Twilight would like to help her come up with a solution, or even help her gut and rebuild the thing. The nerdy girl would jump at the opportunity, she decided, since it represented a moderate level of challenge and they could work on it together. Twilight had been looking for some sort of engineering or mechanical project they could do together.

Her mind conjured a daydream of the two of them in the guts of her heater, laughing and chatting as they replaced years of Sunset’s jury rigging and paperclip repair with real parts, sleek and modified by the two of them to save her money and heat better, possibly without some of the unpleasant odors that filled the loft on the days when it worked the hardest. The scene warmed her better than the blankets and she found herself smiling. This, unfortunately, meant that stupid little voice had to add its two bits.

—A smile like that and you still don’t want to consider that you’re attracted to her, huh?—

Sunset groaned in her blanket nest, flipping the covers over her face in exasperation. Apparently she wasn’t even allowed to enjoy thoughts of spending time with her friend without that annoying corner of her brain trying to make it out to be more than it was.

—You don’t daydream about anyone else that way, you know.—

The stupid voice ought to remember that she had didn’t exactly have a large circle of friends. Twilight and her family made up the largest part of it, with Applejack, and possibly now Rarity and Pinkie Pie being the rest. Everyone else hated her with a passion or was still petrified of her.

—Still not seeing you indulge in silly little fantasies about any of the others. Just Sparky. You don’t think there’s even a small reason for that?—

Clearly, that reason was because Twilight was the closest thing she had to a best friend, her first friend, and the only one she had that she didn’t have an uphill trek against her own past with. The girls at school were well versed in Sunset Shimmer, Queen Bitch—the human Twilight Sparkle had only heard about it. Not to mention, the nerdy bookworm was one of the few individuals on either side of the mirror that Sunset had met and could stand the company of for long stretches of time that could match and even exceed her in intelligence. There was an amazing feeling that came with not having to dumb herself down to the other party’s level in conversation.

—Still don’t want to see it, hmm? What about when you kept looking at her butt when you were handing out candy?—

That was something she fully and completely blamed the stupid little voice for, since it had been the one calling attention to the way the costume had hugged Twilight’s hindquarters when she leaned forward to distribute candy.

—Newsflash, genius. It was still a part of you looking.—

She’d been over this a dozen times already, but that irritating corner of her mind refused to leave her alone about it. She wasn’t a xenophile, she didn’t find the human body at all attractive, male or female, no matter how endearing and sweet Twilight could be. It just wasn’t a thing, it would never be a thing, and she wasn’t about to let her mind get all twisted up by the ebb and flow of adolescent monkey hormones courtesy of the body she was stuck in.

—Forget for a moment that she’s a hairless bipedal ape, would you? She’s got some really attractive qualities—the least of which is that she’s smart and capable! If this was Equestria and she was a mare, you’d be panting at the thought of planting your muzzle in that flank.—

Unfortunately, this wasn’t Equestria and Twilight wasn’t a mare. She was human, Sunset was still a unicorn at heart, and it just wasn’t going to happen.

The stupid little voice made a sound not unlike an exasperated sigh. —Sun, moon, and stars, you’re being stubbornly dense about this, you know. Has it ever occurred to you that maybe, just maybe, it has nothing to do with species and xenophilia? Claiming her species is a reason you can’t be attracted to her is shallow, even for you at your worst.—

She snorted irritably, wondering what the point of this argument with herself even was.

—The point, horn-head, is that have you ever considered the notion that it has absolutely nothing to do with her body? That you could just…be attracted to her? Personality is a thing, you know, and a much more healthy metric for wanting to be in someone’s company than the shape of their hindquarters. Though Sparky’s aren't bad, when she wears that one pair of tight jeans…—

The redhead’s brain ground to a halt, trying to process the thought, seeking some form of rebuttal. She could find none, and found that now the idea wouldn’t stop bouncing around in her skull. The way Twilight lit up when she saw Sunset, the long hours of conversation over science or technology or sometimes very little at all…The thrilling rides on the bike, Twilight hugging her for dear life and whooping in her ears in euphoria…The way the other girl’s hugs made her feel, warm and content and just happy... The way her heart had leapt to her throat when she saw the police cruiser in the driveway and thought something might’ve happened… Even her anger when ever she thought back to the night they met and how the thugs in the park had wanted to hurt her Twilight.

Blue-green eyes widened, their owner sitting up with the blanket wrapped around her shoulders. “…I’m such an idiot…” she moaned, rubbing her face.

—Yeah. You are. Glad to see you came around to it eventually.—

The voice was still stupid, though. Even if it had been right. She had, somehow, developed an attraction to the human Twilight Sparkle.

---

“What do I do, Spike?” Twilight asked the puppy that was laying on her bed. “Cadence had a point, but I don’t know if it’s a good idea.”

Spike lifted his head at his owner’s voice saying his name, ears perking up. Dangling from his mouth was one of Sunset’s socks, left behind from one of their sleepovers. Twilight sighed and took the sock from him. “Spike...you know better than to do that. You don’t chew on my socks so why do you insist on attacking what Sunset leaves here?”

Spike growled, snapping grumpily at the sock.

“I don’t know why you don’t like Sunny, Spike. She’s never been mean to you.”

The dog looked at her, then huffed. Twilight could practically feel his opinion.

She frowned at her puppy. “You need to get over it, Spike. I like Sunset a whole lot—I don’t want to stop spending time with her, so as long as she wants to spend time with me, you’re going to see more of her.”

Her pet whined at her, moving next to her when she sat down. She ran her fingers through the soothing texture of his soft fur. “I really do, Spike. She everything I’ve ever wanted and more...but she’s also my friend...my best friend. I don't want to loose that just because of a stupid crush. Cady says I should tell her how I feel, so she understands whats going on.”

Spike whined again and crawled into her lap, trying to offer comfort to her rising anxieties the only way he knew how. Twilight cuddled him close. “What should I do, Spike?” she found herself repeating. “Do I keep this to myself? Or do I tell Sunset and hope it doesn’t ruin everything?”

He cocked his head back and forth, before looking at her desk and barking. Twilight broke into a smile. “That’s a great idea, Spike! I should make a list!” She ruffled his ears affectionately. “What would I do without my favorite number one assistant?”

Hopping off the bed, she set the wriggly canine on the ground and moved to her desk. There she broke out a notebook and started on her lists. After a few minutes of frantic writing, she stopped, forcing herself to breathe. Looking at what she had scrawled down made her scowl, tear the page out, and crumple it up. She glanced to Spike who had leaned against her calf in concern. “I'm doing it again, aren’t I? Over complicating things, I mean.”

Spike yipped, wagging his tail. “You’re right again, Spike. What would Dr. Soft-spoken tell me?” The pup hopped into her lap to curl up happily. “She’d say ‘You should try to keep things simple, Miss Sparkle,’” Twilight did her best imitation of the therapist’s voice. “...and she’s right. I need to keep it simple.”

This time she tried to restrain herself to a much simpler list of thoughts for each option. She stared down at her own handwriting after, feeling that tightness in her chest start to come back. Out of habit, she hugged Spike for reassurance.

“I still don’t know what to do Spike! This isn’t really helping me choose, because there's so many things that could go right, but so many things that could go wrong!” She tapped the papers. “If I come out to her and tell her I like her...sure, there’s the chance she’ll be okay with it. Sunset might even be okay with my feelings...but there’s also a chance that it’ll mess things up, that shes not okay with that kind of sexuality... that it’ll upset her enough that she won't be my friend anymore!” Twilight sucked in air, trying to remember to breathe around the feeling of pressure on her chest.

Her dog tilted his head up, twisting in her lap to lick her cheek, letting out a puppy grumble, adding his own two cents to the conversation. Twilight hugged him more, spending some time trying to get herself under control, even as part of her wished it was Sunset there to hug her instead of Spike. That desire sent her mind back, to the bookstore, to that first night, to a dozen times that Sunset had unknowingly halted her anxiety before it wound her up too far. Her mind supplied images of blue-green eyes focused on her, and the sound of that firm voice reminding her to breathe. She followed the memory of the instructions, and slowly, her chest unknotted, the sensation draining slowly away.

Spike wagged his tail and barked happily at her, and a smile found its way onto her face. “You’re right, Spike. Even if she doesn’t like girls like I do, it's Sunny. She’s already stayed my friend through everything else, including some really severe panic attacks, maybe this won't matter either.” She leaned back in her chair, exhaling deeply.

“If I tell her, I also won’t have to worry about trying to hide it from her...which means one less thing to panic about.” Spike tried to go for the sock she’d set down on the edge of the desk, teeth snapping at the piece of clothing. Twilight had to wrestle with the puppy in her lap for the sock, ultimately sighing at the stretched fabric. “Spike....” Sharp puppy fangs made another grab for the sock. “No!” Twilight chastised. “This is not a toy, Spike! You know better!”

His ears pinned back and he lowered his head, having not expected her sharp reaction. With a sad sounding whine, he tried to worm his head under her hand; she relented after a minute, fingers scratching gently. “You need to learn to like Sunset, Spike. She means a lot to me, and I really want my best friend and my number one assistant to get along. Please, Spike? Give Sunset a chance? For me?”

Spike looked at her for a long time, as if mulling over her question. It made her wonder, not for the first time, how much he really understood and how smart he actually was. At last, he gave a heavy sounding doggy sigh, and leaned against her.

Twilight took the gesture as acquiescence to her request, and gave him another hug. “Thank you, Spike.” She rested her cheek against his head. “Now I just have to worry about what Sunset will say if I tell her I like her. She’s never mentioned having a boyfriend and she never talks about boys...but that doesn’t mean she likes girls either...or even if she does, that she’d be interested in being more than just my friend.”

A niggling thought wormed its way to the forefront of her consciousness. “....If I do tell tell her, I’m also worried that she might feel obligated to pretend to like me back...I don’t want her to think she has to do that to stay my friend.” Spike made a querulous noise, so Twilight elaborated. “I’m her first friend, and she might think I will only be her friend if she does what I want.” The dog growled softly. “I know, Spike. It's an awful thought...so I need to make sure that if I do tell her, I make sure she knows I’m still her friend even if she’s not interested in me that way.”

Twilight stared at her lists again, still torn on her decision. Spike looked between her and the papers several times, before he growled, and lunged, tearing the list out and hopping off her lap to shake the paper vigorously like he was trying his best to kill it. She blinked at the dog’s actions in mild surprise, but a slow smile came over her face. “You know what, Spike? You’re right. I shouldn’t be worrying so much! Sunset is my best friend, and Cady thinks I should be open and honest with her. If she thinks it's a good idea to tell her, then maybe there is a reason. Cadence has always tried to help me—she’s not going to stop now.”

Spike barked happily at her, making a grand show of kicking the mangled list under the bed with his back paws. All in all, the puppy looked rather pleased with himself as Twilight crumpled up the other list and tossed it in her trash can. “…I just need to work up the courage to do it now…”

---

It wouldn’t let her go, the thoughts about Twilight. About the feelings that had taken root without her realizing it, about what it would be like to act on them. That last one was…particularly rough for her to imagine, since her knowledge of human dating, courtship, and romance consisted entirely of a completely faked relationship with Flash Sentry for the sake of reputation and appearances, a limited selection of human media, and what she observed first-hand in school. It had been one of the reasons for the lack of a lot of “intimacy” between her and Flash—though not the largest one—not that the relationship really had lasted that long anyway.

Lacking information and experience didn’t stop her brain from trying—conjuring images of her and Twilight curled up together on her couch reading, or holding hands as they browsed the shelves of the used book store or visited the museums, or even of the two of them just talking, heads close together as they laughed over this story or that joke. The whole thing left Sunset feeling both warm and cold, a familiar ache taking up residence in her chest. She knew that aching hollowness that hungered to be filled, and it scared her, because it had been the driving force behind every bad choice she’d ever made.

Want.

She wanted that deeper connection with her Twilight more than she’d wanted just about anything….Even her desire for the Princess to acknowledge her as her daughter paled before the burning hunger in her veins now, and that terrified her. She had ruined everything in her life the last time she’d felt like this, blinded to everything but sating the hunger that left her hollow. Sunset didn’t want to go back to that…she didn’t want to ruin her new life, especially with how much the friendship between her and Twilight had come to mean. It made the former unicorn think herself in circles, and surprisingly, it was the Stupid Little Voice who came to her rescue.

—You’re over thinking things. Stop and breathe for a minute. Then go find something for dinner, you’re starving and no one can think properly on an empty gut.— Without realizing it, she obeyed, and was soon cooking a bubbling pot of soup, while the voice picked up the line of thought again. —First, you want. Great. Water’s wet, everyone wants stuff. It's about how you handle it. Right now, you’re handling it badly. Instead of panicking about how it can all go bad, take it slow. Feel the situation out, observe. You’re a smart mare, or so you claim. Also, don’t add so much salt, it won’t be edible if you do.—

Great. Stupid Little Voice had graduated from relationship advice to culinary assistance.

—It would be stupid to waste all those ingredients to make glorified slug-melter. And add some more scallions and another of those little tomatoes. They add good flavor. Now, back to the other matter: Don’t get ahead of yourself, and if it doesn’t work out, step back instead of trying to make it work, horn-head.—

…Maybe slow would be better. She didn’t know if Sparky would even be interested, and with her luck, it probably was as one sided as it could get. They were suppose to do movies this weekend at Sunset’s loft…that would be a good chance to try and figure out if there was a chance for this.

She could do this.

Next Chapter: Chapter Seventeen: Take A Chance Estimated time remaining: 55 Hours, 17 Minutes