Twilight propped open the book on a stand. “So, why don’t we start with what went wr—I mean, why don’t you tell me how you did it last time?”

“Oh, that’s easy! I was upstairs making paper things with scissors, and then I started to get hungry. So I realized I live in a bakery! Best decision I ever made! So I hopped downstairs and I realized that these books told you how to bake stuff! I grabbed one and I was looking at all the amazing stuff in it, and I couldn’t pick just one, so I decided to make all of them!”

“Well, that explains a few things,” Twilight muttered to herself.

“It sure does! So after I chose my four favorite things, I just followed the instructions. The book was really specific and helpful and detailed and it was pretty easy.”

“Uhm, okay…why don’t we follow just one this time?”

Pinkie shrugged. “Sure, why not?”

Twilight flipped through a few pages. “Alright, here. Chocolate chip cookies. Easy.” Twilight propped the book near Pinkie. “Show me how you would make these.”

Pinkie bounced over to the book and began reading the recipe. Twilight saw her mouthing the words as her eyes traveled down the instructions.

“You actually read the recipe?” Twilight asked skeptically.

“Shh, I’m not done.”

Twilight frowned. As Pinkie continued reading, her hoof started tapping slowly against the floor.

After a rather long wait, Pinkie snapped away from the cookbook and skipped over to the pantry and cupboards. She wrestled a measuring cup, bowl, whisks and other utensils from the latter, and bags of flour, chips, and other ingredients from the former. She balanced them on her back and head as she brought them back to the table, and dropped them with a dramatic flourish.

Twilight glanced sideways. Pinkie Pie would only ever do one trip, as well. Helped get to the good part faster, she had claimed.

Pinkie grabbed a large measuring cup in her teeth, and then scooped some flour from the bag. She got a fair bit on her nose and hair in the process. She held the cup over the bag, pushed the excess flour off with her hoof, then dumped it into a large bowl. She repeated this a second time, and a third, and Twilight heard her stamp her hoof to count each one. She took a fourth scoop, and delicately shook out some flour until the cup was exactly half full. She put it on the counter and squatted down to make sure she had gotten it just right.

“You know, it doesn’t need to be perfectly precise,” Twilight muttered.

“Well, the book said three-and-a-half cups.”

“Yeah, but—”

“Twilight, shush. I’m trying to measure this.”

Twilight glared at Pinkie but didn’t say anything else. Pinkie finally nodded at the cup, then dumped the last of the flour into the bowl.

She set up another, smaller bowl near the first one, and grabbed an egg from the pile of ingredients. She tapped it against the table, but when she tried to crack it open over the bowl using her hooves and mouth a large chunk of the shell landed in the bowl, and a fair bit of egg landed on the table.

“Uhm, oops. Lemme start over.”

“It doesn’t need to be exact, Pinkie,” Twilight said. Her voice had gotten a little louder.

Pinkie didn’t catch the increased volume. “The book didn’t say ‘half an egg,’ Twilight. Haha, who would use half an egg in a recipe?”

Rarity pressed her face up against the glass. She hadn’t been sure what to expect, and Twilight and Pinkie baking together was certainly not expected.

She walked through the door, and the creaking of wood and the tingling bell were covered up by a sudden shout from Twilight.

“No…no, no, NO! This is all wrong!”

Pinkie recoiled at Twilight’s tone. “How can I be doing it wrong?” Pinkie nervously poked a hoof at the cookbook. “I followed the recipe, and I measured everything, and—”

“That’s the problem! You’re not supposed to measure things, and follow recipes, and be careful! That’s not how the real—”

Rarity coughed, just loudly enough.

Twilight froze. She already knew who it was: she knew that cough very well. “That’s not how the real, uhm, bakers do it,” she stammered.

Pinkie poked her head around Twilight. She gasped, waved excitedly, and hopped over to Rarity, in that order. “Hi, Rarity!”

“Hello, Pinkie.”

“Did you come over to help me and Twilight with our baking lessons?”

“No. I actually came over to talk to Twilight. Alone, if that’s alright.”

“Ooooh, do you have a secret? Is about me?”

“Uhm, no. It’s about…”

“One of our friends,” Twilight blurted.

“Ooh, which one?” Pinkie asked.

“Uhm…P…R…Fluttershy,” Twilight said.

“Oh, well, you can tell me! Maybe I can help. You know I’d never blab anypony’s secrets. I’d never do anything to hurt my friends, I promise!”

“What kind of promise?” Twilight asked.

“There’s more than one type of promise?”

Twilight glared at Pinkie, but Rarity quickly stepped between them.

“Anyway, as I was saying, Twilight… I need to talk to you about, er, Fluttershy.”

“There’s nothing to talk about.”

Pinkie smiled and started back towards the kitchen counter, but stopped when Rarity started talking.

“Isn’t there? This,” Rarity waved a hoof at the kitchen, but quickly retracted it, “I mean, that little stunt you pulled is an incredibly shallow attempt to alleviate your guilt!”

“It’ll work,” Twilight mumbled.

“What’ll work?” Pinkie asked.

Rarity snorted derisively. “Would you listen to yourself, Twilight? Even ignoring your teaching methods, it’s just a desperate band-aid, and you know it!”

“So what!?” Twilight finally bothered to look at Rarity. “I got so restless, so sick of wallowing in guilt. Anything had to be better than that!”

“Trying to bring her back will only make it worse,” Rarity said softly. “It’ll just keep reminding you of it, and the wound will never heal.”

Pinkie tilted her head. “Bring who back?”

“Her existence reminds me of it. And I can’t get rid of her, so this is the next best thing. And I know everypony else feels the same way. You said so yourself.”

“Twilight…”

“You just don’t get it, Rarity. I…” Twilight started to whisper. “I killed her.” She glanced at Pinkie. “….Pet…rabbit. Every time I close my eyes I see it happen again, and every time I see,” another glance, “Fluttershy, I see it again. This is the only way it’ll stop. It has to work.”

“It’s not the only way, Twilight. Let me help you.” Rarity reached out to comfort her friend, but Twilight shrunk away.

“No, no this will work. It has to. Magic won’t work on them, so this is all I’ve got. I just, I just need to talk to somepony… To Fluttershy.” An idea dawned on Twilight. “Yes, of course, Fluttershy.” Twilight trotted off, grabbing her saddlebag as she went.

“Twilight, wait!” Rarity called after her.

But Twilight had already slammed the door.

Pinkie turned to Rarity. “Wow, Twilight is really upset about that pet rabbit!” Pinkie scratched her head. “Sounds to me like it was an accident. Shouldn’t it be easy to forgive herself?”

“Well, Twilight places very high standards on herself, Pinkie. She doesn’t think of it as an accident.”

“Will she ever get over it?”

“I hope so.”

“Can I do anything to help?”

“She just needs to talk about it with somepony. Perhaps she really did go see Fluttershy.”

Pinkie smiled. “Oh, well then I’m sure it’ll all work out! If Fluttershy is the problem then talking to her is the best thing she can do, right? You can’t just avoid ponies you have a problem with.”

“Er, yes, I suppose so.” Rarity adjusted her bags and started towards the door. “Sorry to interrupt your day, Pinkie. I’m afraid I must be off; I have something important to do.”

“Ooh, hold on a sec’!” Pinkie dashed to the kitchen and back again, and handed Rarity one of her chimeric cupcakes. “One for the road. I made them myself!”

Rarity reluctantly grabbed it, and appraised it for a long moment. Pinkie leaned forward expectantly. Rarity delicately, slowly, carefully placed it into her mouth. Pinkie continued to stare at her. She waited a long time before beginning to chew. After what seemed like eons, the lump finally started to break apart, and Rarity swallowed it, her eye twitching noticeably as she did so.

She coughed loudly. “Uhm, chewy.”

Pinkie grinned. “I knew you’d like it! Have fun on your errands!” She bounced exuberantly into the kitchen.

Well, it isn’t nearly as bad as Sweetie’s cooking, Rarity thought to herself as she left. The comparison wasn't terribly comforting.

Author's Notes:

Subtext