A faint, bitter smell and the sound of soft humming filled the room as hard lumps of cacao butter slid into a stainless steel vat, relaxing into a gentle mush at the coaxing of a large silver spoon trudging through the murk. A warm shade of brown powder joined shortly after, briefly creating a thin cloud of dust that was quickly suppressed by streams of salt, powdered milk and confectioners sugar. Conflicting colors blended together artfully under skilled hooves as the humming gradually grew into a vaguely French chanting that anyone familiar with the language could easily identify as complete and utter gibberish. When the stir was complete, a bathtubs worth of fine milk chocolate melt sat with a surface smoother than a freshly opened jar of peanut butter, only to be calculatedly disturbed with streams of caramel dancing across the top like a figure skater leaving artistically asymmetrical trails in her midst. A faint giggle escaped the confectioners lips as one final ingredient crawled out of a glass bottle, falling through the air gracefully and landing in the center of the pool, creating a barely noticeable smudge in an otherwise flawlessly executed culinary art.

"The chaotic consumption, the diabetic gumption!"

Pinkie crescendoed her song in a comprehensible language as she struggled to push the large container over. Finally, a tipping point was compromised and the toll lifted off of her shoulders as the grateful Atlas's work poured into an intricately carved mold below- equine sized, shaped into a sleeping pegasus with wings folded against it's sides, and outcropping details forming the facial features of a sleeping mare and her three butterfly cutie mark.

---*---

Fluttershy awoke with a start. Something was wrong, she could feel it. All around her, in fact. The fact that she was rather slow to the uptake came to her before the fact that she was currently encased in metal compacted around her so tightly that she could feel the cold steel against her freshly opened eyes.

Claustrophobia had just begun to settle down when a subconscious wiggle shifted the lid of her skintight coffin, and she realized she could easily push it open.

Doing so only raised more questions; a large vat had apparently been resting against it, and rolled off at its opening. Shy had apparently been resting in a large, dimly lit basement, surrounded by furnaces and tables full of baking supplies. She nearly tripped coming out over a bag of flour lying on the ground next to her, and a quick inspection of the offending object cast gaze on a handwritten post-it attached.

go back home! i'll see you in a bit (:

---*---

It was well past night and had been for some time by the time Shy stumbled back to her cottage. She tread softly on the stone trail leading to her front door, carefully stepping around a few sleeping woodland creatures lining the path. As she reached the door, the hints of a conversation carried through the door;

"He believed that you can't achieve enlightenment by reading texts, but rather that by doing good actions. He didn't even want his practice to be considered a religion!"

"That's very interesting. But, is the person we're waiting on going to show up soon?" Shy stiffened at the sound of this voice.

"Oh, she'll be here very soon. Right now, in fact. I see you out there! You can come innn!"

Shy's breath quickened, but she nevertheless nudged the door open. Sitting on the living room couches were her friend Pinkie, currently blowing steam off her tea and waving at Shy to come in, and...

"Fluttershy! Come on in, meet my good friend Fluttershy!"

Fluttershy's eyes widened, nearly dropping her teacup. Shy stepped back, lifting a hoof to her mouth, and finally got a look at herself in the light. The offending hoof was a deep shade of brown, smooth enough to reflect her own face looking into it- a similarly textured face, with scared eyes jutting out of her face. She watched her molded pupils dart around in the reflection, entranced and horrified.

"Come on, take a seat? Can you drink tea? Do you think that's too hot?"

---*---

A quick breakdown later, Shy was slowly sipping tea out of her cup, paying close attention to the taste. Her mouth didn't seem to be melting, but if she focused she could distantly taste cacao in the Earl Grey. She had been acutely aware of her own body's working since she had come in, wondering what her heart was pumping and how her chest was rising and falling with the air she inhaled. Fluttershy coughed next to her, and she looked up, trying to compare the details of her doppelganger to the details she could see in the mirror behind her.

"Um. Could you. Could you explain what happened?"

Pinkie's ears perked up. "Of course! See, I wanted to spend some time with you today, but you were off with the Crusaders, remember? So, I thought to myself, 'Well, I can't use the mirror pool, not that that would help me much anyway', so I decided to grab a brew from Zecora and see if I could make my own Fluttershy! But then you came back, and I realized I kind of jumped the gun there, so I left her a note for when she woke up and came over! Happy Birthday by the way, Shy!"

Shy's eyes were drawn to her tea. "I'm... I'm not real? I'm just something you made to spend time with while the real me was gone?"

Pinkie cocked her head. "Well, you're real! You live and breathe and think and stuff! But-"

"What were you planning on doing with me after real Fluttershy came back?"

"I. Well, I hadn't thought that far ahead. I was really lonely, and everyone else was busy, so I thought-"

"What's going to happen to me? Are you just going to lock me back in that mold until the next time you need me?"

Real Fluttershy was beginning to look very uncomfortable. Pinkie noticed this, and her hair began to dull shades and depress. "I... I could-"

"I have all of her memories, don't I? I can remember the names of every animal in this cottage, and I remember fighting Cozy Glow, and going to the Gala, and falling off of Cloudsdale, and everything. Why aren't I real? What happened to my soul? Is it just an extension of the real Fluttershy's? What dictated that I would wake up one day and no longer be myself?" Shy was beginning to feel like crying, but nothing came out. Everyone was silent.

"Um. Your leg." Fluttershy piped up.

Shy looked down at the leg dangling off of the couch. One of her larger snakes had wrapped around it and was attempting to swallow it, coming up to her waist. It occurred to her that she had lost her sense of touch as well. A loud crunch sounded out, and the surprised boa dropped to the ground with her broken leg barely sticking out of his jaws. Shy didn't feel a thing.

Fluttershy softly whistled, prompting the boa to slither over to her, laying its head on her lap and seemingly asking for help dislodging the blockage in his throat. She began talking, occasionally pausing to wrestle with the leg or collect her thoughts.

"I'm so, so sorry. I can't imagine what it would be like to... to just..."

"Become a spare?"

"You're not a spare. You're me. Nothing is separating us, and I'm going to continue treating you as I would treat myself. You deserve nothing less."

Shy laughed quietly, swinging her remaining hindlimb. "I'd say the fact that one of us is a baked good would separate us."

"Sure, physically. But you have my memories, and you have my morals, and you share my beliefs. If I put my soul in a toaster oven, that would still be me. So what's the difference, then?"

Shy remained silent. Across from her, her doppelganger finally got some leverage, pulling the drenched and partly melted leg away from her boa and handing it over to Shy, before dropping it again as she climbed over the couch and wrapped her in a hug. She patted Shy on the back.

"I could use an extra hand taking care of all these animals. You want to stay here?"

Shy didn't respond, resting in the embrace and briefly worrying if she was staining Fluttershy's fur. When she finally looked up, she realized Pinkie had joined in the embrace too. They stayed in that embrace as the sun was slowly lifted outside.

Author's Notes:

The picture that prompted it