Chylene looked frantically about the town, looking past other people just going about their day. In such a rural place like this, a red-haired girl would’ve been easy to spot. She should’ve been, anyway.

“Alice!” the woman called out, although it wasn’t very loud. Unsurprisingly, she got no response. She bit her lip and folded her arms. “Oh no...please be safe, please be safe.”

A light tap on her shoulder made her jump, and she nearly screamed.

“Dear, Chylene! It’s me!” came a familiar voice.

The timid woman spun round, giving Rarity a weak smile. “Oh, hello, Rarity. Please tell me you found Alice?”

The purple-haired beauty shook her head. “I’m afraid not, though I’ve only been to so many places. But I’m glad I found you--do you remember what today is?”

Chylene furrowed her brows. “Um...sorry, with all that’s happened today I’ve completely forgot.”

Rarity gave a large smile and clapped her hands together. “Today’s our monthly spa appointment! And it’s the third month, so it’s the Works!”

“Oh, um...” Chylene instinctively avoided the beauty’s gaze. “I don’t think we should do that when Alice is still missing...”

She frowned. “But you know how hard it is to get a Works appointment since they became popular. If we miss it, we won’t get another chance for three months, Chylene! You’ve searched and can’t find her, right? And I’ve searched and can’t find her, right? And all the others are looking. Besides, we do need to check the spa. Just in case someone saw her there. Am I right?” Rarity put on her mild pout--a hopeful smile with just a small downturn to the eyes and lips.

The pink-haired woman looked at her and just knew that she wouldn’t let this drop. She rubbed an arm uncomfortably. “I guess you have a point...”

Grabbing her arm, Rarity exclaimed, “Good! So let’s go then, and maybe we won’t be late. We can keep looking for her afterwards, regardless. We both need this. You’ll see.”

“Okay...let’s go.” She squeaked when the fashionista started dragging her to the Spa.

Twenty minutes later found the pair in the waiting room of Spa Solace, the nearly twin owners prattling on about the latest Mansfield gossip. Rarity was listening intently, responding vaguely, mostly with laughter. Another ten minutes saw the two in a private room, just beginning their Works treatment. Rarity seemed to be quite relaxed, enjoying herself even.

Chylene on the other hand, was trying to. In the lobby, she had stood by herself, arms folded over her breasts. With just Rarity, these trips were very fun but with others around, her insecurities about her body started to surface. When the treatment started, she didn’t feel much better.

“Chylene?”

She blinked, snapping back to reality. “Oh, yes?”

“I asked if you were enjoying yourself, darling,” Rarity said, concern lacing her words.

Chylene gave her a sweet smile. “You know I always enjoy our outings,” she half-lied.

Rarity nodded slowly, but frowned. “It’s because we’re not looking for Alice, isn’t it?”

“Well, yes.” She looked down apologetically. “Sorry...”

“It’s not that I don’t care, you understand,” replied Rarity, carefully.

Chylene widened her eyes and was quick to respond. “Oh no no! I didn't think that, really, I didn’t!”

Nodding, Rarity continued, “I have Stephanie. I know exactly what it would feel like if she disappeared.”

“Oh, yes.” The timid woman opened her mouth to say something more, but there really wasn’t much else she could say. “Mhm...”

Rarity was mostly speaking to herself at this point as she went on, “I trust Mac, or Dash, or even Jack herself to get to the bottom of this.” Her tone stiffened just a bit. “I’m not very good with kids, you know. I try but...” She gave a weak laugh. “Do you remember when Sweetie ran away to Jack? Saying she was going to have her as a big sister? That’s how good a sister I can be.”

Chylene’s own anxieties were washed over by her concern for Rarity’s. “Siblings don’t always get along. I mean, we weren’t related but...Dash and I didn’t always get along with the others in the home.”

Nodding, Rarity sat in thought for a moment. One of the spa sisters was working her nails, but Rarity seemed completely oblivious. She finally said, “I’m a terrible friend, aren’t I.”

Chylene suddenly straightened her back in her seat, much to the other sister’s annoyance. “No, you’re not,” she said in an almost scolding tone. “What would make you say something like that?”

“I don’t think I rightly know, Chylene, dear. That’s part of the problem.” Rarity let out a long sigh. “I care about you all--don’t doubt that for a moment--but sometimes I simply fail to see how I fit in. You’re all such good people, in your own ways. Even Isabelle.”

“Of course you fit in, Rarity. We’re all so different from each other, but we all get along.” A warm smile appeared on her face. “And I think that’s wonderful.”

Rarity gave her a halfhearted smile in return. Chylene is too kind to really understand what I mean. Oh well, she thought, trying to figure out a way to change the topic. After another stretch of silence, she said, “We’ll continue to look for Alice when we’re done. That’s what friends do, right?”

“Yes--” Chylene squeaked when the spa sisters started to file her nails, so she opted for a casual nod instead.

Leaning back and closing her eyes, Rarity lightly said, “Relax, darling and enjoy it. We’ll be too busy for niceties in the coming days, I fear.” Even though I don’t always understand them, they still accept me--more than I deserve, but I’ll gladly take it for now. With that last thought, she could already feel her tension draining away as the masseuse began her work.

About an hour and a half later, the two primped and pampered ladies exited the building. The first signs of early evening were evident in the sky. Rarity squinted, trying to judge the hour before remembering the designer watch on her wrist.

“That took a bit longer than I expected. Oh dear,” she said.

“I’m sure the others will understand,” Chylene replied, sounding a bit unsure as she fiddled with the sides of her yellow dress.

“Probably. Well, I have an idea--do you remember where...oh, what is her name... They call her Scoots?”

“That’s her nickname. Her actual name is Sarah,” the shy woman tapped her chin, “Um. She might just be at her house...”

“That was my point, darling. Do you know where she lives?”

Chylene blinked. “Oh! Yes, sorry! I can take you there, if you want?”

Rarity shook her head. “We’ll save more time if you check on her while I go home and talk to Sweetie. Make sure they haven’t slipped off themselves, or see if Alice told them anything.”

“Good idea. I’m sure Sweetie knows something. She’s such an adorable, well-behaved girl.” Chylene looked away for one moment, considering the words she just said.

Under her breath, Rarity muttered, “Yeah, when she’s not at home, the little she-beast...”

The animal lover laughed awkwardly. “She’s only bad when she’s with her friends and that’s because they’re so excited to see one another.”

“Well, regardless, let’s get to work, shall we? I’ll see you back at the farm tonight, with the others.”

Chylene nodded once. “Okay, I’ll see you later. Thank you for the fun time out.”

“Anytime, Chylene. Good luck!” Rarity called with a wave as she rounded the corner.

Pinkie wiped the sweat from her brow as she entered the Sweet Tooth Bakery. She had searched everywhere for Alice and had found nothing. Well, not entirely nothing. There were a few interesting things to be found in bins and other people’s houses. She would have kept looking, were it not for previous obligations.

Outside the building, a white van was running. Pinkie narrowly avoided a tall, freckled man as he rushed to the front door, a stack of boxes in his hands.

“Aah, Pinkie! Thank goodness you’re here in time!” he cried as he stumbled out of the door.

“No problem, Mr. Cake! I love looking after the twins and wouldn’t miss time with them for the world!” She then turned and successfully weaved around a fairly plump woman with wavy pink hair coming from the kitchen with more boxes.

“Hi, Mrs. Cake!” Pinkie said happily, waving as the woman went past. The baby twins, Percy and Patsy, sat in the middle of the room, laughing at the chaotic nature of their parents’ departure.

“Hello, Pinkie...” the baker tiredly answered, putting the boxes in the back of the van.

Pinkie’s mouth formed an ‘o’ shape as she suddenly remembered a vital detail. “Oh! Before I forget, I gotta go to a super awesome party with my friends tomorrow!” At least she didn’t have to make as a big a lie as she had just before the Heist. And after.

Mrs. Cake nodded slowly. “Er, okay then.” She turned to her husband. “Is that all of them, sugarpie?”

Mr. Cake slammed the rear van doors. “Yep, lovemuffin! Now let’s go!” He hurried to the front door and waved to his children, blowing them a kiss. “We won’t be long! And remember that Daddy loves you!”

He went back to the van and climbed into the driver’s seat, while his wife took her turn at saying goodbyes. “Love you, darlings!” She blew them a kiss then looked at Pinkie. “If anything happens, you know what to do.”

The younger woman sternly saluted. “You got it! Now go make the best delivery you can!”

“Um, yes.” Mrs. Cake gave Diane a wave then ran to the van, getting in just as it started to drive off. The energetic woman watched them go, then shut the door as they disappeared. She took one look at the twins and sighed, slumping against the door. She wanted to do this, but it felt like it was wrong for her to do so.

The babies ignored her and played with their colorful toys, giving Pinkie some solitude. Those thoughts came to her again: the Heist, her friends, and herself. Behind every bright smile, behind every uplifting song, was a deeply troubled mind. She’d done a lot of thinking, but ironically, she hadn’t done much in the way of talking.

She didn’t want to talk...and yet she desperately craved it. Out of all of her friends, she was the spirit. Everyone knew that she could turn any frown upside down, and they depended on that. A sad Pinkie made for a gloomy atmosphere, and no one wanted that.

A moist sensation on her index finger broke her from her trance. She looked down to see Patsy sucking her finger. “No, Patsy,” Pinkie said in a calm voice, withdrawing her finger from the child. “No putting things in your mouth that don’t belong there. Now...where’s your binkie?” The woman turned her body, soon finding a wet and discarded pacifier lying on the floor. It soon found itself in the mercy of Patsy’s mouth.

Pinkie folded her arms, her brow furrowed, and looked up. It was a cruel role she found herself in. Everyone needed just that little bit of joy in their lives right now, and who else could provide it than the famous party girl? Her own feelings came second to her friends’, but that didn’t stop them from eating at her.

She closed her eyes, letting out a defeated sigh. She mulled over the truth many times in her head: she was a murderer. It was a disturbing thought, but it was far from the worst. What scared her was just how easy it was to fire those bullets without even thinking. At the end of the day, she came to one conclusion:

She was Pinkie, but a different Pinkie. A changed Pinkie.

She rested her head on her hand, looking at the twins. After a moment's silence, she spoke, “You guys will listen to me, right?”

The twins turned their heads, gazing at Pinkie with curious faces while spouting out baby gibberish.

“I guess you wouldn’t understand anyway.” Pinkie scratched her head. “Not even I understand! I feel all confused and stuff inside! I don’t feel...um...hmm...” Pinkie tapped the floor repeatedly, concentrating, “Er...right, I guess?”

The babies exchanged glances, then shrugged at the same time.

“I’m just not sure...” the woman trailed off, but after a short silence she raised herself, a big grin on her face. “We need a distraction! And I know just what will cut it!”

She sprinted upstairs and came back down with a microphone stand in less than five seconds. Her plan would chase away the bad thoughts, at least for a bit. The twins took one look at her and facepalmed.

Pinkie pouted, leaning over the microphone. “Aaaw c’mon! I got this new routine I think you’ll really dig!”

Rarity shut the door to Carousel Boutique, locking it closed. Her sister had been a dead end, though she did confirm that Alice had talked about leaving. Both her and Sarah had agreed the little Apple’s plan was insanely dangerous, even by their normal standards. Which was saying something--Rarity shivered at just the mere memory of the time they decided to experiment with rocketry.

With no other ideas on where to search or whom to ask, Rarity had decided to just catch a taxi back to Sweet Apple Acres. There weren’t too many to hail on this side of town, but the tailor never had any troubles when one actually did show up.

Standing alone on the sidewalk, in a part of town mostly devoid of pedestrians, she was an easy find for Spike, who had finally gotten bored sitting at the farmstead. He raised an arm and called out, “Hey! Rarity! Over here!”

Catching sight of him, Rarity smiled, then waved for Spike to join her.

The young man quickly came to the woman’s side. “Any luck?”

She gave a small frown and shook her head. “But I did find out that Stephanie didn’t go anywhere. And, uh, Sarah is probably still in town as well.” Her head jerked slightly as she came to a realization. “Actually, Spike--what are you doing here? Shouldn’t you still be at Jack’s?”

“Probably,” he admitted. “But I couldn’t just sit there, you know?” He glanced up at Rarity’s face, then quickly looked away. “I mean, if she hasn’t been found by now, I don’t think we’ll...” He shook his head. “No, nevermind. I shouldn’t think like that.”

Rarity pursed her lips. Finally, she said. “Actually, Spike... I agree with you. But we can’t tell the others. You know how hopeful they always are, thinking things will work out for the best.”

Spike put a thumb to his mouth and chewed at the nail. After a beat, he spoke again. “Yeah.” He looked over the woman ten years his senior and glumly frowned. “No matter how much you hope for something, maybe it just won’t come sometimes.”

She smiled at him. “You always were so mature for your age, Spike.” With a tilt of her head, she asked, “How are you handling all this? I mean...from the robbery to now--all of it.”

“One step at a time,” he replied, trying to ignore when Rarity said your age. “That, and I guess I’m lucky in a way. There’s always something that needs listened in on, or, or a component to the computer that needs tweaked--something to focus on.”

“You keep yourself busy with other things. I understand. In a way, I think we all have--but the others are a bit more open about how our actions that day have affected us. I felt so...different from them, sometimes. And I’m sad to say I forgot about you. You, who seems to be not quite so different from me.”

Spike smiled as he stared up at the woman’s eyes. “I don’t know about that, Rarity. I mean, you’re always so... cool under fire, I guess.”

She laid a hand on his shoulder. “Oh, I don’t know, Spike. I seem to remember someone who successfully listened in on about a half dozen radio frequencies, keeping us updated and as safe as he possibly could. I count that as pretty ‘cool’--don’t you?”

He blushed at the compliment, then mentally kicked himself for blushing. There were times when he’d kill to be just a bit less soft. A bit tougher. A bit more like a man Rarity’d like. “I’m, uh, glad I was able to at least give a hand,” he managed to stammer out.

“Me, too, Spike.” She rubbed at her chin thoughtfully. “Perhaps that’s it. Why I feel left out sometimes--everyone else has someone they can depend on absolutely. I mean, think of it for a moment.” She began counting off. “Jack and Dash would sacrifice the world for one another. Jack has Mac, as well. Twila has her older brother, Lew. Chylene and Pinkie are a little harder but... Well, you know how much Isabelle looks after Chylene. And Pinkie has the Cakes, who’ve taken her in practically like one of their own.” She paused before saying. “There’s not really anyone like that for me. No one I can count on above anything...nor anyone who feels that way about me.”

“Well, I depend on you,” Spike blurted out, then squinted his eyes shut. Idiot, he thought. The young lad did a damage control, quickly trying to figure out a way to get the meaning into less dangerous territory. “And I know Stephanie thinks the world of you too.”

Rarity thought about the young man’s words. All of them, even those she knew he wasn’t quite saying. The same words he had always not quite been saying. “That’s very... I mean, you’re very sweet, Spike. You always have been.” She gave him a wicked half smile. “And certainly cute. Oh my, you get cuter every day.”

“Cute,” he repeated with a frown.

She pushed on his arm. “In a very manly way, obviously.” She laughed, then sighed. “Spike, I don’t think I can give you what you’d like. I just don’t think it would work, considering the circumstances.”

He swallowed hard, looking once more at the woman he had pined for ever since he had seen her as a young boy. “No,” he disagreed, surprising himself just as much as the violet-haired beauty. “Not when you’ve never even given me a chance.” He stood as tall as he could, which wasn’t much--Isabelle could claim a few inches on him even. “Come on, Rarity. I-I think you could. I know you could.”

She half turned away, looking over him with her peripheral vision. He was rather mature for his age--Twila had always suggested that was some trait of the people from the South, though they had never been sure. And yet, in a lot of ways, he was still so young, so naive.

But he’s earnest. He’s nothing but himself, and when have you known any man like that? she asked herself. No. Think of the scandal! What would the girls say?

She went back to her thoughts on the others all having someone to depend on--despite Spike’s words, she knew the real truth. Spike had Twila. The brilliant girl had always practically acted like his mother.

That decided it for her.

With a firm shake of the head--though she was careful to not show her slightly teary eyes--she said, “No, Spike. I’m sorry. You’re a wonderful young man and a fantastic friend. And I’ll envy the girl you meet some day. But I’m not her, I’m sorry.”

Spike felt like he’d been punched in the gut. He stood, nearly slack-jawed at the rejection. His brows furrowed. “So that’s it!? I don’t even get a shot? Rarity, that’s not even fair! All this time and I--” he knew his words were coming out unorganized, nonsensical. It wasn’t her fault she didn’t...didn’t see him that way. But he couldn’t help it. It wasn’t right. Life shouldn’t work out like this. “Why can’t I get a break?!” His voice cracked and he did his best to keep his hurt inside. Even then, it felt like a dam that was nearly bursting.

Rarity told herself the sharply unpleasant feeling she was feeling was her just desserts. Even though she had perfectly legitimate reasons to deny the boy, she honestly wondered what would happen if she simply gave him a chance. Still, she remained silent, keeping herself steadfast.

“You know, the others might be idiots for being so hopeful, but at least they have something to hold on to.”

That caused her to wince. She hadn’t meant to upset him that much. Her mind scrambled, desperate to find any way to salvage the situation. Without bidding, a question arose in her thoughts.

How much older is Father than Mother again?

She hadn’t thought of that.

She looked at the quiet, but clearly fuming boy--no, young man. She would settle on that. Maybe they were both right--he deserved a chance, and yet, not right now.

Quietly, she ventured, “It’s too early to go back in a taxi. But...” She gave him a wink and her best sweet smile. “Since it’s just us anyway, would you like to take a walk, Spike?”

It took him a moment to register what she said. When it came to him, he sucked in a breath, trying to calm down. Odds were, she would give him the ‘friends’ line. But...until she did...he’d enjoy the time with her while he could. While she was still potentially there. “Y-yeah,” he quietly croaked out, wiping hard at his eyes.

She grabbed his arm and led him down the street. “Oh good,” she said quickly, trying to rush beyond Spike’s heated words in distraction. “Because I never really get to just talk to you, Spike. So, tell me how you got into computers?”

Spike weakly smiled, slowly returning to normal. “...Well, it’s kinda a funny story--remember that owl Twila used to have...?”

The two walked side by side out of town, Spike slowly talking more energetically as Rarity asked more questions and listened intently. Perhaps it wasn’t what either of them wanted exactly, but, for now, it was what they had.