“Hello! Welcome to the Sweet Roast Cafe. What can I get started for you?”

Sweet Leaf stood with a smile behind the cashier’s counter at her and Fine Roast’s cafe. This morning, her smile was as genuine as any she’d ever had and with glee that added even more to her mood, she could tell that her happiness was quite infectious.

“Hi!” the light blue unicorn customer greeted back. “Could I get a plain, large coffee with a, hmm,” the mare paused, peering over to Sweet Leaf’s left, squinting as she examined the glass, baked goods display built into the counter. “Aw, I was hoping to have one of your cinnamon raisin bagels.”

“Oh, don’t worry. I just haven’t had time to bring the fresh batch out to the front. They’re ready in the back and I can go grab one for you.”

“Sure! And you don’t happen to have any plain cream cheese do you?”

“We absolutely do! I can also spread it on if you like.”

“Yes please!" the customer said enthusiastically.

“Wonderful!” Sweet Leaf reached over to her stack of large cups, grabbing one along with a marker. “Could I get a name for the order?”

“Sure, it’s Velvet.”

“Perfect,” she wrote the unicorn’s name and drink on the cup. “That’ll be five bits.”

The mare opened her saddlebags with her magic and levitated the bits out onto the counter.

Sweet Leaf scooped up the bits and placed them in her register. “Thank you. We’ll call you at the serving counter to your right when your order is ready.”

Sweet Leaf grinned as her customer walked off to a seat near the serving counter. She looked back straight ahead at the next stallion in line. “I’ll be with you in a moment.”

At his nod, she turned around to her husband who was currently in the middle of squirting syrups into a cup. She walked the few steps over to his left and brushed her side against his, her lemon coat mixing with his cream fur.

“Hey hon.” Fine Roast pushed lightly back into her.

“Hey, got another order. An easy one this time.” She set the latest customer’s cup behind two more.

“Great. I need a little breather after that morning rush.”

“Mhm, me too. I’ll be in the back a moment. Getting a bagel.”

“Alright.”

Sweet Leaf continued past the left side of the counter and through the doorway into the kitchen. She walked over to the tall pastry warmer on the right side of the room, opening it and grabbing a hot cinnamon raisin bagel out with a pair of tongs. Closing the warmer, she set the bagel on a sheet of paper and began preparing the customer’s order.

She sighed an undeniably happy sigh. She’d gotten the one thing in her life she hadn’t even known she wanted, hadn’t known was possible. She’d gotten a true relationship with her husband. All morning, her infectious happiness had spread to her customers, their happiness spreading back to her in a warm, pleasant cycle. It was nothing compared to her husband’s love, the love given to her true self, but the customer’s unknowing contributions were very pleasant nonetheless.

As she spread the plain cream cheese along the sliced bagel, her smile soured to a small frown as she couldn’t help but wonder what her customers would think if they knew exactly who was preparing their pastries. She pursed her lips as she imagined their reaction, likely one that wouldn’t be pleasant for her or Roast.

After all, how many ponies would be happy with being served by a changeling?

Sweet Leaf shook the less-than-pleasant thoughts clear of her head and grabbed a small rectangular plate from the cabinet above her, placing the two bagel slices on it. She refused to let such thoughts get in the way of her happiness. Sweet Leaf might still have to be the actor for the rest of the world, but for one stallion she could just be herself. She could just be Firefly.

Firefly took the plate in her hoof and closed her eyes for a short moment, thinking of Roast and his love for her and, in turn, her love for him. She thought of what she had to be for them so she could be a wife for him. Sweet Leaf took a deep breath, then released it and opened her eyes, pleased to feel her happy expression coming back naturally.

Joy on her face and a little spring in her step, she walked back out to the main area, finding Roast was working on the drink before her latest customer’s plain coffee. She continued past him, swishing her tail to brush it against him, and placed the plate on the serving counter.

“Velvet?” She called out and saw the mare’s head lift up from her newspaper to look at Sweet Leaf. The mare got out of her seat and walked half a dozen steps over to Sweet Leaf. “Here’s your bagel, ma’am. Your drink will be done shortly.”

“Thank you.” She took the plate from Sweet Leaf and headed back to her table.

Sweet Leaf walked back to the cashier’s counter and greeted the waiting stallion.

“Hello! Welcome to the Sweet Roast Cafe. What can I get for you?” she said joyfully once again. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed a dark blue stallion stand, his eyes on her. She felt a low boiling anger rising from him and when she flicked her eyes over, she saw his eyes, full of contempt. She immediately recognized him.

Wavy Pallette? What is Spindle’s ex-source doing here? I didn’t even see him come in.

“Hi. I’d like a large iced caramel—”

“Sweet Leaf,” Wavy Pallette interrupted.

Both she and her customer looked over at the interjecting stallion. Her customer opened his mouth, but Sweet Leaf took control of the situation before he could speak.

“Wavy Pallette, if you could please wait a moment, I’m helping this fine stallion with his order.”

Wavy regarded the stallion for a moment and turned back to Sweet Leaf.

“I want her back,” Wavy Pallette said, ignoring Sweet Leaf’s request.

“Excuse me?” Sweet Leaf tilted her head in genuine confusion.

“Bobby Pin. I want her back. Bring her back.” He stomped a forehoof.

“Look buddy,” Sweet Leaf’s customer piped in, “whatever problem you got, get in line. I’m trying to order here.”

Wavy Pallette glared at the other stallion. “Yeah, and I’m trying to get my marefriend back. So excuse me if I don’t care.”

“Wavy, please. We can talk about this in a few minutes, just let me help this customer.”

“No,” he said harshly and pointed a hoof at Sweet Leaf. “Go back to your little nest or cave or whatever and bring her back.”

Sweet Leaf squinted at him. “Wavy, I don’t know what you think is going on, but whatever it is, it’s not right. Now please let me help this customer and we can discuss this in the back.”

Wavy scowled at her for a short moment. “I know you’re one of them,” he growled.

“Excuse me?” she repeated herself.

“I know you’re a changeling!” Wavy Pallette shouted.

Sweet Leaf’s eyes grew wide and the entire cafe grew silent. Everypony’s eyes turned to the commotion and she felt as if a spotlight had shone upon not only Sweet Leaf, but Firefly as well. She couldn’t believe what she was hearing. How could he have suspected her? Was it pure denial? Anger?

Nevermind that. Should I insist on taking him back into the kitchen? No, that would be suspicious to all the other patrons. Which she noticed were all still staring and for a moment, she felt exposed. Vulnerable. Get a hold of yourself and act! Firefly berated herself, mentally shaking off her feelings.

Sweet Leaf looked at her customer. “I’m sorry sir, it appears this can’t wait.”

The stallion gave her a wary look and stepped back.

Sweet Leaf turned back to Wavy Pallette. “For the sake of not repeating myself, how in Equestria did you come to that conclusion?” she asked coolly, raising an eyebrow.

“You and her were—”

“What is going on here?” Roast interrupted the blue stallion, coming to stand left of Sweet Leaf. “Exactly what is it you’re accusing my wife of?”

“Your wife,” Wavy Pallette pointed a hoof at Firefly, “if you can still call her that, is a changeling.”

“Roast,” Sweet Leaf whispered, “let me take care of this.”

“And you know this how?” Roast ignored Sweet Leaf.

Wavy drew his pointing hoof back and thrust it again at Sweet Leaf. “She and Bobby Pin were real close, especially this last month. And now all of the sudden my marefriend turns out to be a changeling? Coincidence? Absolutely not.” He lowered his hoof. “She knows where the real Bobby Pin is. Tartarus, I bet she even knows where the fake one is!”

“You come into my cafe and start accusing my wife of—”

“Roast!” Sweet Leaf shouted. She huffed once she’d gotten his attention. “I. Am handling this.” She turned back to Wavy Pallette. “Wavy. The only reason I haven’t thrown you out is because we’re friends. I know and understand that what’s happened to your marefriend hurts and you want that hurt to go away.”

“Don’t try to—”

“Wavy,” Sweet Leaf said loudly and authoritatively, “Be quiet.”

“But you come into my cafe, my home, and accuse me of being a heartless, love stealing monster. You think I’m not torn up knowing my friend is out there somewhere, scared, surrounded by who knows what? I am afraid for her. She was such a gentle, naive soul and for this to happen to her…”

Firefly closed her eyes and shuddered. “I’m afraid to even think about what’s happened to her or where she could be.” Sweet Leaf opened her eyes and looked at Wavy Pallette again. “So don’t, Wavy. Don’t think for a second that if I could go out there and save her that I wouldn’t.”

Wavy Pallette simply stared at her. She could tell his emotions were a flurry. It was working.

“Wav—”

“Roast!” Sweet Leaf snapped at him quietly. “Please. Just a moment”

“You say you’re torn up.” Wavy Pallette began, a feeling of determination flowing from him like a broken dam. “But when I looked at you a few minutes ago, you were smiling like this was the best damn day you’ve ever had.”

Sweet Leaf’s lower eyelid twitched. “Think about it for a second, Wave. I’m a barista. In a cafe. This is my job. You think patrons are going to want to come back if all they get is a mopy, sour, angry pony serving them their drinks? I can’t afford that, though you’ve done a good enough job making a spectacle out of me anyway.”

Wavy Pallette looked around for the first time and saw that everypony was staring. When he locked eyes with a couple of them, they turned back to their drinks or meals, acting as though they hadn’t heard a thing. He turned back to Sweet Leaf and the anger, pain, and sadness flowing from him told her he wasn’t convinced.

His eyes flicked to Roast for a short second. “What about him?” Wavy pointed a hoof at her husband, narrowing his eyes at Sweet Leaf. “Why won’t you let Roast say anything?”

She looked over at Roast and the two of them looked into each other’s eyes for just a moment. She could feel he was confused and a little hurt. She put that off for the time being and would have to address it later. She tore her gaze away from Roast’s and placed it on Wavy.

“Because I needed to get my piece out. I needed you to understand that she was my friend too. That she is my friend.” She snorted. “And because, trust me. You wouldn’t have wanted to hear what he was going to say to you.”

She let silence reign for a long moment and Roast spoke up tentatively.

“Wavy,” Roast began, looking to Sweet Leaf as though asking for permission. When she said nothing, he continued. “These kinds of accusations shouldn’t be taken lightly. Like Sweet Leaf said, it’s understandable the way that you’re feeling, but coming here, interrupting our guests, and taking it out on my wife,” Sweet Leaf felt his tail touch and hold against her for a short instant. “It’s simply unacceptable. I’m going to forgive you on the basis of us being friends and you not being in your right mind.”

Wavy Pallette opened his mouth, but no words came out. His emotions were all over the place. Sadness, anger, frustration, loneliness, loss. It was a mishmash of an emotional soup, and not a very pleasant one.

Sweet Leaf walked around the counter and put her hoof on the darker stallion’s withers. “Go home, Wavy,” Sweet Leaf told him softly. “Calm down, get your thoughts straight. After that, if you want to have a proper conversation, a shoulder to cry on, or even a sounding board, Roast and I will be here.”

Firefly could tell he was still upset. She didn’t need to be an emotivore to know he wanted to say more, but had nothing to add. Ears twitching and tail restrainedly flicking, he clenched his jaw and gave a curt nod. He turned around and walked out the cafe door. Sweet Leaf watched through the large front windows as he turned left onto the street and continued walking. Once he was out of sight, she let out a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding.

She looked around at all their customers and put on a forced smile. “I am truly sorry about this, everypony. I hadn’t anticipated this kind of drama, or honestly any kind of drama, when we opened this morning. As an attempt to apologize for this interruption, I would like to offer everyone here a coupon for a free drink.”

She looked back over the counter at Roast and he gave her an approving nod.

“If you’re interested, please come up at any time before you leave.”

Sweet Leaf walked back around and placed herself at the cashier’s counter. She looked back to Roast who still hadn’t moved and gave him a tense smile, though she couldn’t manage a real one. His overprotectiveness nearly cost them more than Wavy already had and she was… frustrated with him, she realized. This wasn’t the first time he’d shown his need to protect his wife, but it was the first time it made her upset. The other times it didn’t affect her like it did now and she wasn’t sure why. Normally she’d brush it off and get back to her day, but it wasn’t working now.

She looked back at the cafe guests, a few ponies beginning to form in front of her.

“Hello. Welcome to the Sweet Roast Cafe,” she said, her enthusiasm tempered. “What can I get started for you?”

She did her best to get back into her role, to be the happy Sweet Leaf. It took a good deal of effort, though her smile never quite reached her eyes.

Firefly stood in front of the upstairs bathroom sink, staring at herself in the mirror. Her frown was the most prominent thing about her. Breakfast rush had fully passed, but the incident with Wavy Pallette stuck with her. She let out a single, mirthless chuckle. Wavy really had come in and ruined her morning. There was no way he could prove she wasn’t merely Sweet Leaf. He had nothing on her other than her friendship with a pony that turned out to be a changeling.

His word was his only sword.

Her frown deepened as she tried to understand why she was bothered so much. She huffed when, yet again, she came up blank. Right now, she just wanted to go curl up with… well, no, she didn’t want to spend time with Roast at the moment. She wanted to go and… she didn’t even know what she wanted to go do!

She snorted and stomped a forehoof. Why?! Why am I so upset right now?! I should be able to push all this aside. Firefly squinted at her disguised self. Get a hold of yourself, Firefly. You didn’t spend three years in training and six more in Equestria to turn into an emotional little nymph.

She closed her eyes once again and breathed in deep, holding the breath.

One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Release.

Inhale.

Hold.

Exhale.

Her breathing exercises only helped a small amount to clear her mind, but it would have to do. She mentally forced herself to get back into the role she was wearing and opened her eyes. Sweet Leaf looked a little better. There was no longer a frown on her face, though her expression was nowhere near where it was earlier that morning.

She looked down and turned on the faucet, squirting soap onto her hooves and scrubbing. There was still the lunch rush and then the rest of the evening customers to deal with. She imagined some of them might be coming back to use their coupons.

Sweet Leaf lightly shook her head at the thought. Not surprisingly there were quite a few ponies willing to take advantage of a free drink, though not every one of them did. She couldn’t blame those that took the offer. If she were in their place, she’d take a free drink for the awkwardness they’d had to sit through.

Word would no doubt spread about the incident and she was sure they’d get some gossipers over the next few days. Though it was entirely possible a portion of the ponies wouldn’t come back at all. Some ponies could be rather skittish, after all the rumor of a “changeling” working at a cafe would no doubt be unsettling for some.

She rinsed her hooves of soap and dried them on the hoof towel hanging to her right. She looked up and smiled at herself, the grin almost making it to her purple eyes. Time to be the happy barista once more.

Opening the bathroom door, Sweet Leaf turned down the upstairs hallway and headed for the stairs. Walking down the steps and entering the kitchen, she saw Roast to her left, cleaning dishes. He looked over and caught her gaze.

“Hey hon,” Fine Roast said gently as he rinsed a cup, “how are you doing?”

“Hey. I’m doing fine,” she replied. She hesitated for just a moment, but realized she needed to keep up appearances until she could figure herself out. Walking up to him, she gave him a nuzzle on his cheek. “Are there any tables left that need bussing?”

Roast placed the cup on the drying rack. “No, I got all the dishes.” He moved to the washing side of the sink and started working on another dish. “Though some of the tables need wiping.”

There was more he wanted to say, she could tell. Though she wasn’t in the mood to deal with talking right now, especially the kind Roast probably wanted. “Okay, I’ll be out front then.”

Before he could say anything, she turned around and entered the cafe proper, heading left into the barista area. She looked out at the tables and saw there was only one pony sitting near the entrance. The fall morning air was a little too cold, so no ponies had seated themselves outside. There were, however, lots of empty, dirty tables inside to clean.

She opened the sink cabinet and took out the cleaning bucket and rag. Walking into the seating area, she busied herself with the tables, wiping up crumbs and dried spots of coffee.

Off to her side, she saw Roast come out of the kitchen and take up the spot in front of the cashier. As she was wiping down the last table in the far, front corner of the room, the cafe door opened. Her back was to the door and she was grateful Roast was at the counter. He could take the customer’s order and begin making it while she took her time cleaning.

The pony continued walking and once they reached the counter, a feminine voice began. “Hi Mister Roast. Do you know if Sweet Leaf is around?”

Ugh. Another pony to deal with. She mentally scowled at first, but noticed a scent in the air. That wasn’t a pony. She breathed in again and recognized who the smell belonged to.

It was Vexor. He’d left his pheromone glands in place with his disguise. Good thing too, otherwise Sweet Leaf wouldn’t have recognized him.

Sweet Leaf turned around just in time to see Roast pointing the pony in her direction. She focused on the pony and a gasp came from the light pink mare who excitedly trotted towards her. Sweet Leaf plopped the rag back into the bucket and grabbed a couple napkins, drying her hooves.

No sooner had Sweet Leaf put down the napkins as she was swept up into a tight hug.

“Sweet! How are you doing, my girl?”

Wrapped up in the hug, Sweet Leaf wracked her brain for Vexor's disguise’s name. The others had mentioned it at the last gathering. It was Rose Something. Rose...

“Rose Petal!” Sweet Leaf exclaimed, her previous thoughts and feelings shoved out of her mind as she perplexedly and reluctantly returned the other mare’s hug. “I’m, uhh, good? What brings you around?”

Rose let go of Sweet Leaf and gave her a big grin. “The group is doing a little get-together tonight at my place and I’m stopping by to invite you!”

“Really?” Sweet Leaf’s eyebrows raised in true surprise.

A get-together at Vexor’s place? It’s been a long while since we last did it at his house. Hay, it’s been months since I last saw him and he was in a different disguise then. And a meeting so suddenly after the last?

Sweet Leaf continued, making sure to add a bit of excitement to her voice. “What’s the occasion? Not that I don’t love seeing you all.”

“Oh pshaw.” Rose Petal rolled her eyes and batted a hoof at Sweet Leaf. “Without us you’d be as bored as a tree!” She snorted. “Hehehe! Get it? ‘Cause boards come from…” The pink mare cleared her throat at Sweet Leaf’s unimpressed gaze.

“Yes, well, Scroll got a new board game that he’s dying to try out with us and it sounds like a ton of fun!” Rose pranced a little in place.

“Oh!” Something happened. Maybe Skitter wants to talk about Spindle. Or did Skitter get word about the wedding? I need to go to this, but…

Sweet Leaf hummed for a moment and tapped her chin. “Well, I do have a shop to run, so it would have to be late tonight. What time were you all planning?”

“Don’t you worry that pretty little head.” Rose patted Sweet Leaf on the head, bringing back a little of Firefly’s annoyance. Rose continued unperturbed, despite the momentary glare from Firefly. “We already thought about that. How’s a quarter before seven tonight sound?”

“Hm, we close at six. I suppose I could rush cleaning tonight.”

“Perfect!” The pink mare beamed, clapping her hooves together. “We’ll see you—”

“Rose,” Sweet Leaf interrupted, “that wasn’t a yes.”

“Huh?” Rose put her hooves back on the floor and tilted her head, her light blue mane flowing over one eye. “What do you mean?”

Sweet Leaf rolled her eyes. “I have a husband.”

Incomprehension remained on Rose’s face.

“Really? I need to make sure he’s okay with it.”

“What?” Rose reeled her head in surprise. “You need his permission? You’re a big mare aren’t you?”

Sweet Leaf sighed. She really didn’t want to deal with this right now. And at this point, she had no idea if this was an act or if Vexor really was this oblivious. “No. I mean yes. I am a grown mare, but when you’re part of a relationship, it’s a two way street.” Sweet Leaf couldn’t help her slight condescending tone. “We try to involve each other in our lives. It, you know, helps deepen the bond.”

“Huh.” Rose Petal looked off into the distance as if it was the most profound thing she’d heard in ages. “Huh…”

“So… excuse me while I go talk to Roast.”

The mare brightened back up instantly. “Alrighty!”

Sweet Leaf stepped around the mare and headed for her husband.

Sweet Leaf’s husband. Er, no, Firefly’s husband now. Well, and Sweet Leaf’s... Augh! Whatever, both our husbands!

She mentally shook her head. Some of Rose’s ditz must have rubbed off on her. Regardless of whose husband he was, she needed to have a talk with Vexor later. This ditzy act of his was...aggravating.

She’d gotten caught up in her head and when she focused on her surroundings again, she noticed that Roast was looking at her inquisitively. “Hey Roast,” Sweet Leaf began as she approached the counter. “My friends are doing a little shindig tonight. Do you mind maybe doing a little more of the cleaning tonight? I can make it up to you tomorrow.”

Fine Roast furrowed his brows. “I don’t mind doing more cleaning...”

Sweet Leaf could feel that his emotions weren’t exactly the epitome of happiness. Even a little frustration. She knew there was a “but” coming.

“But,” he began, “I was hoping we could, well, talk about some things?”

She figured that was what he wanted. He no doubt wanted to talk about Wavy Pallette and probably the way she treated Roast during the debacle. She was definitely not in the right mind to deal with that.

She’d “deepen the bond” later. Right now, finding out about what Skitter was calling a seemingly emergency meeting was more important. Roast needed to understand.

“Ah. Right,” Sweet Leaf said, hoping she kept most of the exasperation out of her voice. “This is—I mean, I’m really wanting to go to this. Can we talk about that another time? Please?”

Roast searched her face for a moment before sighing and giving in. “Alright. We can talk about it another day. I don’t mind if you go.”

“Thank you, Roast.” Sweet Leaf gave him a smile for a short moment before turning and walking towards her fellow changeling in disguise.

“Well? What did he say?” Rose asked when Sweet Leaf neared her.

“He said he’s okay with taking a little more of the cleaning over tonight. I’ll be there.”

“Hehe, yay!” Rose cheered, pumping a hoof into the air. “Just you wait, this is gonna be amaaazing!”

Sweet Leaf’s eye twitched. An act. It has to be. It better be. The only other explanation is brain damage.

“Well, I have to get back to cleaning...” Sweet Leaf let the end trail off, hoping Vexor would take the hint.

“Right! Okay, I’ll see you tonight, Sweetie!” Rose waved as she began walking towards the exit.

Once she left, Sweet Leaf let out a breath. Stars above, that ‘ling needs help.

For Sweet Leaf, closing time in the cafe couldn’t have come sooner. She’d settled into a rhythm and there were thankfully enough customers after lunch to keep both her and Roast busy. Or at least busy enough that they didn’t have the time or space for a private talk. Though now with the last patron having left a couple minutes ago, she and Roast had no barriers for conversation now. No physical barriers, at least.

Sweet Leaf checked the clock and read twelve minutes past six o’ clock. She’d need to leave in just over ten minutes to make it to Vexor’s place by six forty-five. That meant she needed to get as much cleaning done as—

“Sweet?” Roast interrupted her thoughts. “Firefly?

A small spike of fear ran through her at the mention of her changeling name. She quickly squashed it and turned to face her husband in the kitchen doorway. “Y-yes?”

He walked towards her, projecting a mess of feelings. “Are we, well, okay?”

She tilted her head in confusion. “Are… we okay?”

He nodded.

Firefly searched his eyes and his emotions. “Yes? Why wouldn’t we be?”

He walked over and sat down in front of her on the cold tile floor looking at her. “It’s been only a day since I got to be with you. The real you. And today was not what I expected it to be,” he said, uncertainty coloring his words. “The thing with Wavy happened, yes, but after that you’ve been… distant. I guess I was kind of hoping for another honeymoon period where we’d get to laugh and play and get to know each other all over again.” He looked down and let out a deep sigh. “Today has been pretty much the opposite of that.”

She parroted his sigh. She’d been trying to keep her emotions to herself, but that apparently didn’t work as well as she’d thought. “I’m sorry. I don’t understand what’s going on.” He opened his mouth and she held a hoof up. “I mean I don’t get the feelings I’m having. I’m frustrated and angry and confused and a little sad.” She let out a low growl. “The worst part is I don’t know why or what I’m...emotioning at!”

Had the tone been less serious, they might have found mirth in her improvised verbing. Instead she huffed and apologized again. “I’m sorry. I need a little time to figure it out.” Firefly looked her husband in the eyes. “We are okay though. I promise.”

Roast managed a little smile. “Okay.” A few seconds of silence stood before Roast spoke again. “This thing you’re going to, is it a, uh, changeling thing?”

“Yes.” Firefly nodded. “I’m not sure why they’ve called a meeting, which is why I need to go.”

“This kind of thing isn’t normal?”

“Well, yes and no?” She wiggled a hoof back and forth. “Kind of. We have meetings usually once a month, but we had one just last week. I’m guessing this has something to do with Spindle.”

“Spindle?”

“Yeah, the changeling who—” She stopped mid sentence and facehoofed. “Right. I forgot you never knew her real name. Spindle is Bobby Pin’s changeling name. Or rather, Bobby Pin is one of Spindle’s disguises.”

“Ah, right,” he said and added softly. “I… hope she’s okay.”

“Yeah, me too.” She really wished there was something they could do for her. For all Firefly knew and hoped, she’d already left town.

Roast looked at her. “Firefly?”

She’d momentarily forgotten how nice it was to feel love flowing from him. She looked into his green eyes, full of care and compassion. “Yes?”

“I love you.”

Despite it all, despite all her feelings and frustrations, at him or otherwise, she couldn’t help but grin a little. “I love you too.” She moved closer and hugged him, holding him tight. “We’ll get through this, okay?”

“Yeah. Okay.” He held her back, just as tight.

She took in his scent and allowed herself to bask in his presence. She’d find out what was wrong. She had to.

After a long moment, Firefly let go and Roast released her. She looked at the clock and saw she needed to leave in a few minutes. “Roast, I need to get going. Are you sure you’re okay with cleaning?”

He nodded and gave her a loving simper. “Yes, I’m sure. Go and enjoy your ‘game.’”

She got up and turned around, heading for the cafe door. She looked back and saw Roast standing, watching her leave. “Thank you, honey.”

“You’re welcome. See you tonight.”

“See you tonight,” she agreed, turning and leaving the cafe.

Sweet Leaf pushed open the gate to Rose Petal’s front yard, admiring the intricate picket archway covered in flowering vines. As she walked along the straight walkway, she couldn’t help but stare at the front lawn. Though “lawn” wasn’t the appropriate term anymore. The small yard had been turned into a wonderfully maintained flower garden, overflowing with lillies, chrysanthemums, roses, and lots of other flowers that Firefly didn’t know the names for. It was the only one on the block that had such vibrant and plentiful decorations of any kind. Firefly wondered if Vexor maintained it or if it was his source.

She mentally shrugged as she reached the front door and reached a hoof out, rapping out three loud knocks on the solid, decorated wood.

She took in the floral designs carved into the surface and couldn’t help but think of how expensive such an intricate door would be.

Her musing was interrupted as the door opened, revealing a smiling, pink mare.

“Sweet Leaf!” Rose Petal exclaimed, rushing forward and wrapping her fellow disguised changeling up in her second hug of the day. “I’m so so so happy you could make it!” She set Sweet Leaf down and turned into the house, beckoning with her hoof. “Come in, come in! We were just about to start our game!”

“That’s, uh, great.” Sweet Leaf entered the house, still taken aback by Rose’s mannerisms. “Have the others shown up yet?”

“Yep! The whole gang’s here. Well, except for Bobby Pin, but I couldn’t find her today!” she said sadly.

Ah, then maybe they don’t know?

Rose shut the door behind Sweet Leaf and locked it. “Come on, the others are waiting in the family room.”

Sweet Leaf followed, heading straight down the hallway, passing the kitchen on the right and living room on the left. As they walked, Firefly saw that all of the pictures on the wall had an off white mare with an orange mane a few shades lighter than Sweet Leaf’s own. Next to her in most of the photos was the same pink mare leading Firefly down the hallway. She couldn’t help but notice that there were a few that featured the couple looking several years younger, even one in what looked like high school.

“Here we are!” Rose broke through Firefly’s thoughts, standing to the side and smiling brightly with closed eyes. She held a hoof out next to the family room door, gesturing for Sweet Leaf to enter first.

Sweet Leaf walked past Rose and saw a coffee table parallel with the length of room with treats, drinks, and an unopened board game box on top. Surrounding the coffee table on three sides were a loveseat, a couch on the far side, and a recliner. On the couch sat two familiar earth pony stallions on opposite sides. On the right, closest to the door they’d entered from, was a tan furred and mint green maned pony holding a teacup in his hooves. To the left sat a blue stallion with a yellow and light green striped mane, his hooves crossed and an unamused expression on his face.

“We’re here!” Rose called out as she walked into the room behind Sweet Leaf.

“Yes, we’re aware, Rose,” Warm Plate said from the far end of the couch, rolling his eyes.

“And as such,” Rose dragged the word on, excitedly bouncing her hooves before stopping and pointing a hoof at the family room window, “the blinds are closed,” she then pointed her hoof back to the hallway, “and the doors are locked! Time to party! Hehe!”

Green flames surrounded Warm Plate and replacing the blue stallion’s form was a changeling stallion, groaning disapprovingly. “Ugh, it’s about time Vexor.”

“You said that to me last meeting, Tarsus,” Long Scroll said as he shifted his tan, masculine form to a female changeling body. “At least you didn’t change early this time.”

“Right, ‘cause that turned out to be a total disaster, didn’t it, Ssskitter?” Tarsus hissed, teasing her sarcastically. The changeling mare merely shook her head.

Rose and Sweet Leaf walked to the others, Sweet Leaf taking a seat on the loveseat and Rose taking the recliner. Rose shifted out of her pink form and into his natural a male changeling self. He looked over to Sweet Leaf with a raised eyeridge.

Sweet Leaf took the hint and shed her disguise, her changeling form taking over.

“Welcome to the party, Firefly,” Skitter said. “I brought some cookies and crepes and Vex made the tea. Help yourself.”

“Thanks, but if I can say first…” Firefly turned and threw an incredulous look at Vexor. “Holy sweet mother of Chrysalis herself. What is wrong with you Vexor?”

“What?” he asked coolly, in a deep voice.

“Rose Petal. The amount of sweet saccharin ditziness she exudes is just… overload.”

“It’s called acting. Perhaps you’ve heard of it?” he said, calmly. He got up and grabbed a small plate, placing a couple sweets on it. “And I like to think of it as, mmm, excitable.” He took a bite of cookie and sat back down.

“Still, it’s a lot. I couldn’t tell if that was you or if you’d simply lost it,” Firefly said, reaching over and pouring herself a cup of tea with two sugars.

Vexor swallowed. “Then the acting worked. Regardless, I didn’t choose this personality.” He took another bite, talking through the food in his mouth. “Rose Petal was already really clueless and bubbly. I’d like to think I toned back her nature a little in the last couple months.”

“Right, well. If we could get started?” Skitter asked Vexor, her teacup levitating in front of her and taking a sip.

“Yes, go ahead,” Vexor said, waving a hoof at Skitter.

“Okay,” Skitter started, setting her cup back down and looking at the other three changelings in turn. “As the most senior changeling here in Hoofington, the hive sent me an urgent letter. The contents are to be passed on to all of you.”

“Why so formal and serious?” Vexor asked.

“Because this is important. It doesn’t say in the letter, but if I had to guess, our queen hadn’t banked on losing.”

“Seems pretty obvious,” Tarsus said, a frown on his face. “No orders, no what-ifs, just ‘be ready to do what you’re already supposed to be ready to do.’”

“Yes, I agree, it could have been a little more planned out,” Skitter agreed, setting down her teacup on the coffee table, “but—”

“And really?” Tarsus interrupted. “Taking over Canterlot? What did she think she was going to do if she did manage to subdue the pony princesses? Order the rest of Equestria to heel?”

“Tarsus!” Firefly said angrily, “We don’t know what happened and we don’t know what decisions led her to this level of action. So don’t assume things you have no basis on.”

“If the papers I’ve been reading are right, she didn’t get the love princess’s personality even half correct! She was reckless!”

“Bite your tongue! That. Is our queen,” Skitter glared at the contentious changeling. “Like Firefly said, you don’t know what happened. If she decides to reveal to us what took place in Canterlot, it’ll be our business. Until then...”

“That’s,” Tarsus began, but closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “You’re right. But do you understand the implications for us of what she’s done, right? We don’t have to worry about being discovered and having reports of ‘some strange creature,’ anymore.” He made air quotes with his hooves. “We have to be worried about dungeons, torture, and executions!”

“I don’t think ponies would go that far, Tarsus,” Vexor said, his voice remaining calm. “I don’t think they have it in them to execute.”

“Really?” Tarsus frowned and raised an eyebrow at Vexor. “You think they’d roll over and accept it if they learned the dozens of ponies we have back at the hive? The dozens more that have stayed in cocoons their entire lives? That have died in those cocoons?”

Vexor shook his head. “No, they wouldn’t roll over, but I can’t see ponies going as far as executions.”

“To answer your question, Tarsus,” Skitter started, “yes, we understand the implications. The hive understands the implications. That’s why we’re here tonight. Now, as I was saying, if you’ve read the papers, then you’re aware that our queen and her army at Canterlot were thrown from the city with a great magical force. The queen’s advisors sent out letters to all collectors with instructions and guidance.

“First point is, if at all possible for the next couple months at least, if discovered, we should attempt to remain in Hoofington under a new guise. We should not immediately attempt to find a new source and instead should rely on our little community of five for support.”

Firefly felt a sinking in her stomach. She’d specifically told Spindle to do the exact opposite.

“It’s far too dangerous with pony suspicions where they are. If we can, we should house any of us whose disguise is compromised.” Skitter leaned back against the back of the couch. “To make matters worse, we’re essentially on our own for the time being. No cleanup crews will be sent out and the hive will not respond to emergency requests.”

Firefly gasped and put a hoof over her mouth. “Oh no,” she half whispered.

“Firefly?” Skitter sat up and looked at her. “Is there a problem?”

“It’s, uhh, Spindle.” Firefly placed her hooves in her lap. All three of the other changelings’ ears perked up. “Wavy Pallette came to the cafe two nights ago saying he saw Bobby Pin as a changeling.”

“Oh no,” Skitter repeated Firefly’s sentiment.

“Yeah. Roast…” she paused for a short moment. Firefly debated how much she should tell them. Thinking quickly, she decided she had to tell them anything they might come to find out on their own. “Roast was there, so he heard about it too.”

“Great.” Tarsus fell back against the couch’s back, staring at the ceiling. “Just what we need, a damned source, knowing his wife’s friend is a changeling.”

“It would have happened regardless,” Skitter said. “All of our sources are going to find out eventually.” She looked at Firefly and Vexor as well. “In fact, this means that our roles now know, through Sweet Leaf, that Bobby Pin is a changeling. Use this knowledge naturally as a pony would.”

Tarsus sighed and looked back over at Skitter. “Right. You’re right. I’ll have to think about what Warm Plate will do.”

Skitter turned back to Firefly. “Is that all?”

Firefly shook her head. “I wish it was.” She took a deep breath and continued. “Wavy went to the guard after, which isn’t really unexpected. But then Bobby Pin shows up at the cafe not ten minutes later.”

“Are you…? Oh sweet Chrysalis. Not even a new disguise? Please tell me Roast didn’t see her.”

Firefly shrank a little in her seat. “Not at first. I opened the door and she told me she thought she screwed up.”

“Only thought huh?” Tarsus said. “I knew she was going to be trouble.”

Firefly wasn’t going to deal with this. Spindle deserved better. “Maybe if you’d been more helpful and less antagonistic, this wouldn’t have happened!” She snapped at him.

“Firefly! Tarsus!” Vexor said. “Enough. Tarsus, this is my house, which means my rules. If the only thing that’s going to come out of your mouth is complaining, keep your mouth shut.”

Tarsus crossed his hooves and looked away.

“Firefly, continue please,” Vexor said, turning back to her.

“Right.” She let out a breath. “Okay, so I shoved Spindle out and closed the door behind us. She asked me for love crystals because she couldn’t get to hers.”

“Wait wait wait,” Skitter interrupted. “You’re telling me she left her crystals behind?”

Firefly nodded.

Skitter let out a long groan. “This just keeps getting better. Tell me you at least tried to go get them.”

Firefly’s eyes went wide. She’d been too caught up with getting discovered herself that it hadn’t crossed her mind once.

“You didn’t.” It wasn’t a question. Skitter rubbed the bridge of her nose. “Why in Equestria wouldn’t you?”

“I’m sorry!” Firefly called out, indignant. “I was…” She hesitated. She was about to say preoccupied, but that was a little too close to the truth. “I didn’t think about it.”

“It’s, well, not okay, but what’s done is done,” Skitter said exasperatedly. “I’ll see if I can stop by tomorrow and get them. Anyway, please, continue.”

“So, next was…” Firefly thought for a moment. She couldn’t tell them about Roast’s questioning or her fleeing or them getting back together. Wait, she hadn’t mentioned the important part yet. “Right. She’s brand new, so she wasn’t thinking straight. I guess I wasn’t either. I told her to go find a new town.”

At this point it looked like Skitter wasn’t going to be surprised by anything more Firefly had to say. Either that or she was saving her curses for the end.

“In the middle of me telling her to leave and get a new disguise, Roast opens the front door. I heard the click and tackled her, putting her on top of me so it at least looked like she instigated it. She ran off after that.”

“Did either of you go to the guard?” Skitter asked.

“No, I, err, Roast said he didn’t want to.” Firefly realized immediately she shouldn’t have said that and clamped down on her fear. It wouldn’t do to display odd emotions in front of fellow emotivores. She had to come up with something quick.

“Didn’t want to?” Vexor asked, unwittingly giving Firefly breathing room. “Why wouldn’t he want to? Surely he understood what changelings were by then.”

Firefly nodded. “Yes, he did. I asked him first if we should and he said it wouldn’t do the guard any good.”

“Hm,” Tarsus said and peered back at the warning glare Vexor sent his way. “I guess that makes sense in a dumb kind of way. All that happened was her knocking on the door and running away. Since he knew changelings could change disguises, he probably figured the guard wouldn’t be able to trace her. Or maybe he didn’t want to get involved with changeling business.”

“More the latter, I think. Do you think I should push it?” Firefly asked, hoping it would make her story more believable.

Skitter shook her head. “If you’ve already tried, I would just leave it. As long as it’s not hurting anything, I don’t think any good will come from poking the bear. Now, is that all?”

Firefly grinned nervously. This kind of was a lot, now that she thought about it. “N-no?”

Skitter merely grimaced and moved her hoof in a circle, signaling for Firefly to continue.

“Wavy came to the cafe this morning. He accused me of being a changeling in front of many of our guests.” Firefly waited to see if they were going to interrupt. When they didn’t, she continued. “He claimed that since Bobby Pin and I were such close friends, that I had to be a changeling. It felt more like lashing out than it did an actual accusation. We...well I told him something about us being good friends and being offended. He was still upset when he left, but I don’t think he’ll be an issue,” she said with finality. “And that is all I have.”

“What about Roast?” Skitter asked after a moment. “Is there any suspicion from him?”

Firefly made a show of thinking about it. “No, I haven’t felt any and I don’t remember him acting odd since that night.”

“Goodness,” Vexor said quietly, “You certainly seem to have had an eventful last few days. Far more than me at least.”

Skitter and Tarsus hummed in agreement.

“It has been a journey.” Firefly let out a breath and closed her eyes, honestly more exhausted than she’d realized.

“Though I do have a question,” Vexor said.

She opened her eyes and looked at Vexor. “Hmm?”

“I get that it’s been a lot, but these are things we should be prepared to handle.”

Firefly cocked her head at him, wondering where he was going with this.

“You’ve been rather easily aggravated today. You snapped at Tarsus twice. Even when I came into your shop, I felt true annoyance from you at Rose Petal’s behavior. It’s not like you to let things get to you and it’s especially not how we’re trained.”

She didn’t want to give away information so she simply kept her inquisitive expression. “What’s your question?”

“Is something bothering you? I mean Firefly, not Sweet Leaf.”

“I guess…” Firefly falsely started, not knowing what to say. It was everything, all of the above. The invasion, the accusation, Roast, oh gosh was it Roast. She wanted to ask someone, talk to someone, but she didn’t have anyone she could confide in. Though maybe… maybe she could talk around the issue.

“I guess it’s all of that,” Firefly started again, “but Roast and I also kinda had a big fight last week and I’m trying to figure out what to do about it.”

“Firefly,” Skitter said. When Firefly looked over at her, she saw the odd look Skitter was giving her. “Why is that bothering you?”

“What do you mean?” Firefly asked, confused. “If Roast and I can’t make up, then I’m going to lose him as a source.”

“That’s not something that should upset Firefly,” Skitter told her. “Sweet Leaf should be upset about that. You should be working that brain to solve the problem. You’re mixing your role’s emotions with your own.”

“Right. Sorry. I’ll figure it out.” Firefly knew she shouldn’t have mentioned it and now she regretted it. “What was the next thing in the letter?”

Skitter merely looked at her. “I’m sorry to say, Firefly, but I don’t think this is going to simply go away with a little thinking.”

This was what Firefly was afraid of. This was why she should have kept her mouth shut. What did she really think she was going to get out of it, validation? There was no getting around it now though. She’d stepped in it. Now she had to find a way to deal with it. “What do you mean?”

“I’d like you to try something. Close your eyes, for me, would you?”

Firefly looked at her a little incredulously. “Ooo-kay?” She closed her eyes. She didn’t want to, but if she could play Skitter’s game, they could move on.

“It’s fine. We’re not here to attack you, Firefly. Us collectors are too valuable for that kind of nonsense,” Skitter comforted, though Firefly thought it might have been half directed towards a certain contentious changeling.

Firefly merely nodded in response.

“Okay. Now think about before you and Roast had your fight,” Skitter paused, allowing Firefly time to think. She thought about Roast and when he came home from his coffee convention. She couldn’t help but chuckle inside at his perfect timing with the creep at the cafe.

“Good. Now think about something nice that he did for you.”

A spike of fear washed over her before she could control it. She realized what Skitter was trying to do. It was too late though, the emotion was broadcast to the other three. She had to think of a cover story quickly. Despite her attempts, she felt her heart start to pound.

“You can open your eyes.”

Firefly breathed in deep and did as she was told, preparing herself for a mental battle.

“That fear you felt? It’s the same thing I felt two years ago,” Skitter told her. “You realized it didn’t you?”

“Realized what?” Firefly nearly stammered out her first word.

“The affection you felt right before the fear. That was Firefly’s feeling, not Sweet Leaf’s.”

“Y-Yes.” There was no use in denying it. “What did you mean you felt it two years ago?”

“Back in Manehatten,” Skitter started, “I’d been with my previous source for a little over two years. My role and him were engaged and the wedding was just a couple weeks away. He’d been extra affectionate, doing all sorts of things to please my role. One night after he went out of his way to do an intricate date night, I realized I didn’t have to put any effort into how my role was responding to him. I didn’t have to think about what to do or say. It was no longer my role that was accepting his affections. It was me. Skitter. It scared me. I’d never consciously experienced the feeling before and it felt… good. Really good.

“I realized I’d started to have feelings for him.”

Firefly didn’t know what to think, let alone say. Was Skitter like her? Was she not the only one who held feelings for her source? “What-what did you do?”

“I wrote a letter back to the hive. I had made up an excuse of a business trip to tell my source and went to rent a room in a hotel for a few days. A couple days later, I got a letter back saying the situation I was in was dangerous and that I needed to remember my training.”

Firefly looked down, trying to remember anything they’d taught them about this kind of situation. She came up with nothing. She looked back up at Skitter. “I don’t remember anything about that.”

Skitter chuckled. “Neither did I until I spent a long time later thinking about it. The letter said that I needed to remember the training about guarding yourself from experiencing the affection your role produces. We don’t remember it because it was half a day during the emotional deflection curriculum. You might recall it better as the session every trainee made fun of.”

“I remember that one.” Vexor said. “It definitely wasn’t long. The overarching opinion of everyling there was how ridiculous it was that anyling could fall for a pony. Even the instructor made fun of it.”

“Yep.” Skitter nodded at Vexor and turned back to Firefly. “You’ve been with Roast for four years now, right?” At Firefly’s nod, she continued. “I’m surprised it’s taken you this long to have these feelings.”

Now that she thought about it, she did recall something about that. If she remembered correctly, she’d talked to a collector in training that had already taken that portion and told her it was a total joke. “Right, I think I remember that. So, what did you end up doing about it?” She steeled herself for the answer. No matter what it was, this time she would not show her cards.

“Well, the rest of the letter said I either needed to get control of myself or move on to a new source,” Skitter continued. “I tried for a little bit, but realized I’d already been feeling that way for a while. I decided it wasn’t worth the effort and moved on.”

Firefly nodded at the expected answer. She refused to entertain the idea of moving on from Roast.

“On the way to our wedding, I convinced him to take a side trip to the Neighagra Falls. I coordinated with a cleanup crew and made sure it was just him and I and a pony pulling the carriage. On the way, an ‘accident’ happened while we were being taken to the peak. As far as anypony knows, none of us survived the trip. As for what really happened, both ponies are currently in cocoons at the hive.”

“Right.” Firefly had to convince them that she could “break” herself of her feelings for Roast. Ironically, it likely meant she needed to repair her and Roast’s relationship. Though now that she realized her actions had been tainted by her true feelings, even in front of her fellow changelings, it shouldn’t be hard to subdue her outward appearance. The hard part was over. “I think I should—”

“Before you make a decision,” Skitter cut her off, “I think it’s best if you try to deal with this. It would be a shame for the Hoofington changelings to lose two of their five sources. Especially with the current circumstances and doubly so for one as productive as yours.”

If she hadn’t been so adamantly controlling her emotions, relief would have flooded over her. This was perfect. She didn’t even have to try to convince them. Firefly looked over at the other two changelings. It seemed they were content to merely listen to the conversation. Worked for her. She looked back at Skitter. “Okay. I will do what I can. And can I, uhm, come ask you questions if I need to?” Adding a bit of timidness for show’s sake.

“Of course.” Skitter gave Firefly a small smile. “Well as long as we have an appropriate audience. Though I guarantee you it won’t be easy. If we were automatons, this wouldn’t be a problem, but we’re living, feeling creatures. Just keep that in the back of your mind. And remember, the hive is depending on us, especially right now.”

“Right. For the hive.” Firefly nodded.

“For the hive,” Skitter repeated. “Now then, that was quite the side discussion. Getting back on track, the rest of the information isn’t nearly as harrowing as the order. Second bit is about gatherers. They will be skipping next month’s trip and instead will be coming in two months. They will be visiting you, Vexor, disguised as Lemon Shine. Now it says we should expect…”

Firefly smiled as she half listened to Skitter. This would be easy. If she could handle something like admitting her love to Roast, she could handle making up fake progress towards stifling her feelings. Though first things first would be to find out what was making her frustrated in the first place and why she couldn’t seem to let it slide off of her. That might be less easy.

But Firefly could handle it. She’d have to.

They’d continued until around eight thirty when Skitter announced she needed to be heading back. She’d told her source that she, or rather he, Long Scroll, would be back by nine.

They’d all changed back into their disguises and dispersed fairly quickly. Firefly was pleased with the results of the meeting. Though that meant she had to go back to the cafe where Roast was waiting. She would have to be adamant about talking about it later. She really did need some time to figure herself out.

Turning down the alley leading to the back entrance of the cafe, she mentally prepared some speeches of what to say to convince Roast to not deal with it until she was ready.

She was a few paces from the door when she realized she hadn’t brought a key with her. Roast hadn’t said he was going anywhere, so when she turned the knob and felt it click open, she was relieved that she wouldn’t be stuck outside until he came back.

Sweet Leaf entered the kitchen and saw all the lower floor’s lights were off except the stairway’s. Her heart fluttered a little at his forethought. Little considerations like that were one of the reasons she loved him. She frowned as she turned around and closed then locked the door, huffing at herself. Those kinds of thoughts made her sound shallow, even to herself.

She loved him for far more than the mere things she could get out of him. At least, she thought she did. She’d kind of admitted it to herself only a couple days ago. She turned to the stairs, determined to prove herself right. Though as she stopped at the first step and a yawn forced its way out of her mouth, that might be a job for another day. She shook the tiredness from herself. She still had to convince her loving husband that he didn’t need to dote on her until she felt capable of understanding her feelings.

Reaching the top of the stairs, she turned left and saw their bedroom was dark. She stepped quietly toward and inside. Once her eyes adjusted, she realized the bed was empty. She flicked on the lightswitch and light flooded the room. Immediately she noticed that Roast’s pillow was missing. She squinted at the thought.

He didn’t plan on… Did he?

She turned around and saw a gentle light barely coming from the living room. She walked down and peeked around the corner, seeing the back of the couch and candle light flickering along the walls and ceiling. Entering the room and peering around the side of the couch, she saw Roast, laying down on his belly, covers on top of him, a book in front of him, and a pillow resting against the couch arm.

“Roast? What are you doing?” Firefly asked gently.

“Oh, hi honey.” Roast looked up at her and smiled. “I was just reading a book before turning in.”

“I can see that,” she said with a raised eyebrow. “I mean what are you doing here, in the living room with a pillow and comforter?”

He grinned, nervousness both flowing from him and marring his face. “I, uh, kind of thought that maybe you’d like a little space tonight?”

Her heart broke a little at what he must have been feeling all night. Even with her reassurances, he was still unsure where the lines of their relationship were. After all, actions speak louder than words. She might still be a little miffed at lots of things, one of them being him, but she refused to let him segregate himself from her.

She snorted, perhaps a little too loudly. These fight things were for the birds.

“No.” She put on a disapproving frown.

“Er, uh, no?” he stammered.

“No,” she repeated. “I won’t let you do this. Just because we had a, well, I had a little disagreement and need time to understand these new feelings doesn’t mean we aren’t husband and wife.”

“I never said—”

“Shush. Get up, blow that candle out, grab your pillow, and come to bed. I’m tired and we have to get up early as usual.”

He looked at her for a moment before giving in. “Alright.”

She turned around and walked back down the hallway to their bedroom. Entering the room, she went around to the other side of the bed and turned on her nightstand light, then went back to the door and flicked the ceiling light off. By the time she’d walked back to her side of the bed and pulled her covers back and slipped in, Roast was standing in the doorway with a pillow under one foreleg. She could see and feel that he was unsure.

“Honey? Please come to bed,” she asked gently, patting his side of the bed.

He walked over and put the pillow at the head of the bed.

“Sweetie,” Firefly began softly as he pulled his side of the covers back, “I’m sorry. I… I can’t stand you punishing yourself for something I did.”

“I wasn’t punishing myself,” he replied. “I was wanting to give you the space you needed to sort things out.”

Firefly paused for a moment, then softly grinned at her wonderful, sometimes headstrong husband. “Thank you for that. But I don’t need that kind of space right now. Earlier this morning it might have been different. I’ve calmed down a lot since then.”

“So it was something to do with—” He cut himself off and took a deep breath. “Right. Let you deal with it.”

“Roast, my love.” Firefly leaned over and held his cheek in her hoof, looking him in the eyes. “I promise you. Once I’m ready to talk, I will tell you. In the meantime, I want my husband.”

He gave her a genuine, though small, smile. “Okay.”

She leaned in and hugged him, feeling him return the hug near immediately.

She pulled back and gazed lovingly into his eyes again. “I love you.”

He smiled again, more full with honesty and repeated her. “I love you too.”

The sounds of dishes clinking, ponies chattering, and coffee brewing had long since died down in the Sweet Roast Cafe. The afternoon rush had passed hours ago and there were rarely more than a few dozen ponies that came between then and closing time.

Looking up at the clock displaying above their barista station for the third time that hour, Fine Roast decided ten minutes after closing time was long enough. He turned and eyed the two mares quietly chatting over their empty drinks, tea and coffee if Roast remembered their orders correctly. He and Sweet Leaf—or Firefly, he was still figuring out which to call her—liked to give their customers a bit of leeway past closing time before asking them to leave, normally around fifteen minutes.

Roast thought it cute that the two mares were still playing games with each other. They’d come to the cafe three times in the past week, slowly losing their nervous hesitance in front of the other and opening up. He hoped one would just make the jump and ask the other on a proper date. Really, he did want to give them a little more time to spend together, like he normally tried to do with their customers, but he was a little anxious to be done early tonight. He had an outing to go to.

He walked out of the barista area and towards the two mares. “Good evening ladies,” Roast began as he arrived at their table, the customers ceasing their conversation and turning to him. “Sorry to interrupt, but our cafe closed a little bit ago.”

“Oh!” the cyan mare on the left exclaimed. “Sorry, time just slips by when in good company.”

“R-Right.” Her light gray companion hastily and a little awkwardly pushing out her seat and standing.

He fought to keep a silly grin off his face. Maybe not all their nervousness was gone.

“That’s alright.” He gave them a friendly smile. “I wanted to let you know so you could start wrapping up.”

“It’s fine,” the first mare looked over at her not-marefriend, “we were just about done anyway.”

“Yep!” The gray mare nodded her head. “Totally done!”

Roast noticed the almost-hurt look the cyan mare gave her friend and felt bad for her as she quickly replaced it with a happy smile.

She pushed her chair back and stepped away from the table. “We’ll get out of your mane. Thanks for the delicious tea!”

“Yes, thank you, er, for the coffee. For me,” she verbally stumbled out.

Poor girl. She’s not got a clue what she’s doing to her friend. Roast couldn’t help but think. “You’re very welcome and I hope you two have a wonderful night.”

Roast turned around and began walking back to the barista station, overhearing their conversation in the quiet cafe.

“Would you like to, uh, go to a, I mean, go see something?” The gray mare asked.

“I have work early in the morning. I… don’t think it would be good to stay out that late.”

Roast stopped and fought not to turn around. He knew he shouldn’t interfere, but it was so sad watching them tiphoofing around each other.

He turned back, losing the battle against himself. “Erm, ladies. If you’re looking for a nice place to check out, there’s a decently sized park a few blocks south of here. It’s got a nice hill that’s great for watching the sunset.”

The mares looked at him for a short moment longer before turning and looking at each other.

“Would you—” “That sounds—” They both spoke at once.

“Sorry, you first.” The cyan mare said.

Her friend looked at the floor and pawed a hoof. “I was just going to say that sounds kind of nice and, uh, do you wanna go?”

Her friend let out a giggle. “Yes! I mean, yes. I think it would be fun.” She turned to Roast. “You said it was just south of here?”

Roast offered them another smile. “It is! Once you leave the cafe, take a left, then turn right at the next cross street. It’s just a few blocks down on the left. You can’t miss it.”

“Okay! Thank you mister Roast.” She walked towards the cafe entrance, her friend quickly following.

“You’re welcome and have a nice night,” he said again, waving goodbye.

Once they’d left the shop, he looked up at the clock and noticed it was nearly six twenty. He’d need to hurry cleaning if he wanted to make it on time. He began his usual tasks of wiping down equipment and emptying old coffee grounds. After a few minutes, the cafe entrance door jingled open. He looked over and saw Sweet Leaf… Firefly… his wife enter, carrying a bag of trash.

He continued scrubbing one of his coffee maker seals as he heard his wife’s hoofsteps go past him into the kitchen. The noise of the kitchen door opening and closing resounded a moment later then once more as she came back in. She walked back into the cafe proper and came to a stop next to the barista area. He looked over and saw her beholding an amused smile and raised eyebrow.

“What?” he asked flatly, pausing his scrubbing.

“Just what did you say to those young mares?” she asked back. “I see you talking with them from out front and then they come out a minute later, flushed with barely restrained love and excitement.”

He set the brush down and faced her. “You can’t tell me you didn’t notice the eggshells those two were walking on. I told them we were closing and neither wanted to go home, but they knew they couldn’t stay here.” He ignored the fact that the look still hadn’t left her face. “So, before they could talk themselves into doing nothing, I told them they could watch the sunset down at Legacy Park.”

She stared a moment later and let out a few giggles, rolled her eyes. “No subtlety at all there, hmm?”

“That wasn’t—” he began, but huffed and looked away. He didn’t really know what to say to that.

“Sorry, I just couldn’t help but think that you wouldn’t make a very good changeling.”

Roast looked back at her indignantly, unsure how to take that. He wasn’t trying to unnaturally shove them together and besides, it seemed to turn out alright. In his opinion, he thought he read the situation pretty well.

Her expression fell as she looked him in the eyes. She sat down on the floor where she was and looked down. “Great. And apparently I’ve forgotten how to be a good wife.”

Roast’s brows furrowed, trying to understand the sudden shift. His eyes widened in recognition when he remembered she could sense his emotions. She must have noticed her remark cut him a little.

“Sweet, it’s okay. I know you didn’t mean it.”

She looked up at him with a hint of… anger? “You stand up for me all the time, Roast. Why don’t you stand up for yourself once in a while?”

“You’re angry at me for… for trying not to be angry at you?”

“No. Yes. No! Augh!” She put her head in her hooves. “I’m sorry. I didn’t think about it before I opened my mouth.” She put her hooves down and looked back up at him. “I’m the one who’s a terrible changeling right now.”

Roast wasn’t sure what to do, so he did the only thing he could think of. He walked over and wrapped her in a hug. She snorted and, after a moment, returned the hug.

After a moment, he let her go and looked at her, but she didn’t meet his gaze.

“I’m sorry, Roast,” she said again. “I still need more time.”

“It’s alright, I can—”

Wait. Time. His eyes widened and he stepped back, turning to look at the clock. If he didn’t leave in the next five or so minutes, he ran the risk of being late.

“Er, hon,” Roast turned back to her, “I have my weekly get-together with my friends in half an hour. Maybe you could use that time to sort your thoughts out?”

“What?” she asked, a questioning look on her face. “I thought those were on Sundays.”

He shook his head. “Yes, normally. I must have forgotten to tell you. Straight Angle came by a few mornings ago…” he trailed off and thought for a moment. “Actually, he came by Tuesday and, uh, you were there. Well… kind of.”

“Kind of?” She furrowed a brow in confusion.

“You were, oh what was your name, Mint Something.”

“Oh, yes. Orange Mint,” she answered, nodding her head. “I remember seeing him, but I must not have overheard that part.”

“He came to tell me Silver Trinket is going out of town on Saturday for a week to visit her parents and they wanted to do a get-together before then.” He then pawed a hoof at the floor. “And you, well, you said yesterday that you could make it up to me for doing cleaning. I’m not trying to count favors, but would you mind…?”

“Yes, I can cover cleaning.”

He gave her a grateful smile. “Thank you, Sweetie.”

“You’re welcome.” She returned his smile. “Are the three of you doing your usual of bowling and dinner?”

“No, not tonight. We all have to work tomorrow and the others wanted to get home before their special someponies went to bed.”

“Oh, well that’s kind of sad.” Sweet Leaf stood up and walked into the barista area. “You four should think about doing something other than your usual. Spice it up a little.”

“Yeah, I can ask them, but uh, hon. I kind of need to go.”

She glanced up at the clock before turning to him. “Right, sorry. Go enjoy yourself!”

“We will.” Roast walked towards her, wrapping his wife in a quick hug. “I’ll see you tonight.”

Fine Roast followed the hostess inside his and his friends’ usual hangout, the Southside Grill. Thanks to his wife, he’d been able to leave a few minutes earlier than intended and along the way, he’d maintained a brisk trot. To his surprise, he ended up arriving before any of the others had.

It was strange for Roast, seeing the place with far fewer ponies about on a Thursday than on early evening Sundays. Normally the din of the crowded restaurant would drown out any low conversation, but tonight there were less than ten tables occupied. Though the sound was far less than he was used to, the atmosphere hadn’t changed a bit.

The dark blue walls were still well lit by the conservative lamp-like chandeliers. The staff was still polite, giving off happy and energetic vibes. And the jukebox at the back of the restaurant was still playing out some new alternative band he’d not heard before.

“Here’s your seat!” the hostess said, standing slightly past the table to Roast’s right, gesturing with her hoof.

Roast climbed into the booth, sliding in on the nearest side.

“Here’s your menu.” She placed the large rectangular laminated booklet in front of him, then set a stack of three menus at the edge of the table. “And here’s the menus for your friends. Your server will be with you soon.”

“Thank you,” Roast replied, picking up his menu. It hadn’t changed since their last get-together last Sunday. He already knew what they had, having been coming here with the gang well over a dozen times, but with nothing else to do, he decided to look it over anyway.

They always liked to start with an onion ring tower appetizer, so that was always the first thing to order. Once he’d gotten to the entree section, he pursed his lips. He kept flipping the pages back and forth between the stuffed eggplant parmesan and double stacked hayburger.

“Here you are, ma’am!” A voice broke him out of his dinner thoughts.

“Thank you,” a familiar voice said.

She came into sight as her light pink form passed the glass divider, her dark pink mane done up in her usual short ponytail. She turned her head and a little smile grew on her face as she saw him. “Hey, Roast.”

“Silver!” he exclaimed as she slid into the opposite side of the booth.

“How’s our favorite coffee connoisseur?” Silver Trinket bumped Roast’s hoof across the table.

“Decently good. Had some interesting times at the cafe lately.”

“Interesting times sound interesting,” she restated. “You’ll have to regale us once the others get here.”

“Yep.” He nodded. “Hey, what do you think I should get, the—”

“Ahp!” She held up her light pink hoof, interrupting him. “Pick a number between one and ten.”

Roast groaned and rolled his eyes. “Really? Again?”

“Yes really.” She imitated his eye roll with her soft blue ones. “You ask us like every other time.”

“I do not!” he refuted, holding a hoof to his chest.

“Okay, fine. Maybe once every three times,” she conceded. “So, pick a number.”

He grumbled again before giving in. “Fine. Six.”

“Then get the first thing you were going to tell me.”

“You could have just said that.”

“And miss out on getting to tease you?” She leaned in, only a little bit predatory. “Not a chance.”

“Yeah, fine.” He looked away with a half grin on his face, waving a hoof dismissively at her. “I’ll get the eggplant parmesan then.”

“I don’t think you’ve had that in a while.” She grabbed a menu with her magic, opening and looking through it.

“Nope. It’s been a bit. Server also hasn’t been by yet.”

She looked up, mischievously. “Mm, so you didn’t get to order the tower.” She went back to her menu.

“Not yet.” Roast confirmed with a little glare, shaking his head.

“So, how’re the coffee machines doing?” Silver asked from behind her menu. “None of them are acting up, are they?”

“Nope. They’ve been working plenty well since the last time you fixed them.”

“Mm, good. Those things are a pain to take apart. Not as much as some of the machines I have to work on, but still.”

“Right.” He put an elbow on the table, resting his chin on his hoof. “So, Miss Trinket, Angle told me you’re heading back to Canterlot.”

“Yep,” Silver Trinket said simply, staring at her menu.

“Aaand you’re going to see your parents?” he asked again, squinting an eye.

“Yep,” she repeated, still not looking at him.

He simply stared at her for a moment. “And that’s it?”

“That’s it.”

“I… thought you weren’t on good terms with them.”

She set her menu down and sighed. “I’m not, really.”

“Then why are you—”

“Because,” she cut him off and looked at him, “when your rich noble parents decide to have a ball to celebrate a new princess’s marriage and tell said princess that their ‘amazing’ daughter is going to be there, it’s kind of hard not to go. And now I’m not going for just one week, but two.

“They had to push back the party by a week thanks to the whole thing about those changeling creatures trying to take over Canterlot. But they still want me to come the first week because they’re ‘so concerned for their precious daughter,’” she mocked.

“That, uh, doesn’t sound very good. But couldn’t you just, well, not go?” Roast asked.

“Yeah, sure. And then word gets out that their daughter had a hissy fit and refused to attend.” She rolled her eyes seriously this time. “Hoofington might not have the biggest sociocultural climate, but there are a few customers that it would hurt to lose. In more than one way.”

“Are those customers really that big a part of your revenue?”

“Kind of, but not really,” Silver waffled, tilting her head side to side. “The few appliances they do call for me to repair are big and expensive enough that they hardly ever break. But if they could influence other customers…” she let the words hang in the air.

“Do you think, maybe—”

“Roast, please.” Exasperation painted her face. “I really don’t want to talk about it.”

He put a hoof up to placate her. “Alright, alright.” Silence hung in the air for a few seconds as Roast thought where to take the conversation. “So, how’s the pawn shop doing?”

She picked up the menu and started reading it again, shrugging her shoulders. “It’s alright. The number of customers ebb and flow and it’s sitting around average right now, maybe a little less. More buys than sells at the moment, though.”

Roast Nodded. “Yeah, I can—”

“There’s two of my favorite ponies!”

Both he and Silver looked up at the interruption. Walking up to their table was a tall dark cyan colored stallion, closely followed by a smokey white one.

“Hey Angle. Hey Sketch,” Silver greeted.

“Hey guys.” Roast waved and smiled, then looked again at the off white pony’s purple and lighter purple mane. “Got a new mane color, huh Sketch?”

Straight Angle gave the lanky white pegasus a couple slaps on the withers. “He sure did! My hubby did another special for him and I think it looks great!”

“Yes, Roast dear, I decided it was time to change once again.” Quick Sketch flipped his long mane. “Out was magenta and in was violet and lilac.”

“Yep, purple looks great on you, bud,” Angle said.

“Yes, of course. Purple.” Sketch gave Straight Angle a light glare, shuffling his wings.

His glare, though subdued comparatively, reminded Roast of the first time Angle had severely generalized the color of Sketch’s mane at the time. If he remembered correctly, it had something to do with pigs and how uncivilized they are. Perfect bonding experience, really.

Angle stepped over to Roast’s side of the booth. “Hey, scooch over, willya?”

Roast scooted over, making room for the big pony.

“May I have this seat?” Quick Sketch asked Silver Trinket.

“Go for it.” Silver moved over a little and allowed him to climb in.

“Hey there, everypony!” A mare came up to their table, an order pad in hoof. “My name’s Purple Dream and I’ll be your server for the night. Could I get you all started with something to drink?”

As the others placed their orders, Roast picked up his menu and flipped to the back, trying to decide if he wanted his usual or if he wanted to branch out a little.

“And for you sir?”

Roast put his menu down and mentally resigned to the usual. “I’ll take a root beer, please.”

“Sure. And can I get you all started on some appetizers?”

“We’ll do the onion tower, please, on my check,” Silver Trinket spoke first before the others could, ignoring their frowns.

“Sure! I’ll put in the order and have those drinks out for you in just a minute.” She stowed her pad in her apron pocket and left.

Silver received varying degrees of glares from the other three.

“Dangit, Silver,” Roast said.

“What he said.” Angle nodded towards Roast. “Ya got it last time, too.”

She merely shrugged and picked up her menu again. “Snooze you loose, guys.”

Roast shook his head and chuckled. Since they always got the onion tower, it became a little game of theirs that whoever ordered the onion tower first got to pay for it. The only “rule” was no verbal shoving. Some ponies might think it a little backwards, but that was their problem. Roast was only mildly annoyed that he’d lost again for the fourth… fifth time? It was at least a month since he last got to pay for it.

Straight Angle huffed a little. “So anyway, what were the two a’ you talkin’ about?”

“We were just talking a bit about work,” Roast replied.

“Ugh!” Sketch leaned his head back and groaned dramatically. “Do not get me started about the tribulations of employment. Just yesterday I was finishing the outline for a mural on a customer’s window and then he interrupted me, saying he wanted it on the inside! I made several failed attempts to inform him that I was indeed already painting it on the inside, as I was standing on a step ladder in his shop. Once I had finally gotten my point across, do you know what the buffoon told me?”

Sketch looked at each one of them in turn. They were used to this kind of thing from him. He wasn’t actually expecting an answer, he merely wanted to tell the story with his usual Quick Sketch flair.

“He told me he wanted it facing inside, text and all!”

“That seems kinda odd.” Straight Angle tapped his chin and furrowed a brow. “I don’t remember seein’ many window murals ya had to go into the shop to see.”

Sketch batted a hoof at the big stallion. “Precisely, dear. It took nearly ten whole minutes to get him to understand why that was a bad idea.”

“Maybe he was trying to go against the flow?” Roast suggested. When he merely got an odd look from the artist, he clarified. “Like, everypony does theirs facing the correct direction. Maybe he thought he could be different to attract attention?”

“That is…” Sketch started then narrowed his eyes, “actually somewhat clever. Though it would need to be specifically designed to be backwards and this piece was most certainly not.”

“Fair.” Roast shrugged. “Just playing devil’s advocate.”

“Appreciated, at times,” Sketch said before turning to his seat companion. “So, Silver, what is this I hear about you going back to Canterlot this weekend?”

“Uh, Sketch,” Roast interrupted. “I already went there. It’s best if we leave it be.”

Quick Sketch eyed Silver for a moment before turning back forward. “Very well.”

Silver Trinket caught Roast’s eye and gave him a thankful smile.

“What about you, Straight Angle?” Sketch asked. “Any amusing tales from work to regale us with?”

Angle shrugged. “Eh, not really. Just the normal stuff lately. Finishing up a room addition for a shop over on East side. Gotta finish spackling ‘n then throw up some wallpaper and it’ll be good.”

“And maybe you could convince the owner to get some fancy window art from Sketch,” Silver said. “The first time I had him paint my windows, it was a thousand times better than anypony else.”

“Why thank you, Silver Trinket.” Sketch gave her an appreciative nod. “Ah, by the way you three, my marefriend wants to have all of you over for dinner at some point. She has been pestering me to ask the last few weeks and it kept slipping my mind. She says to bring your spouses and, um,” he looked over to Silver Trinket and put a hoof on hers resting on the table, “I wanted to make sure you’d be okay with that.”

She gave him a side glance. “What? Why wouldn’t I be okay with it?”

“Well, it’s going to be us three with our significant others and I didn’t want you to feel like the odd one out, so to speak.”

“Sketch, come on,” she said as he pulled back his hoof, “I appreciate the thought, but I’ve been out with you all and your special someponies before. Just because I don’t have one doesn’t mean I’ll feel left out. And besides, you guys are really good about keeping everypony involved and engaged.”

“Alright, if you’re sure.”

“I am.” She nodded and smiled. “Thank you for thinking of me.”

“Hey,” Angle looked over at Roast, “speaking of special someponies, how’s that Sweet of yours? You hear anything ‘bout her family thing?”

“Oh, uh, yeah.” Roast nodded, not expecting a question about her. He’d kind of forgotten about the whole situation. Left it at the restaurant door, so to speak. He hadn’t even talked with Firefly to come up with a decent cover story. “It turns out it wasn’t that big of a deal. Just a little health scare that her family exaggerated a bit about. Once she found out, she came right back and got home Tuesday evening.”

“Well that’s gotta be annoying,” Angle said. “Didn’t she head out late Monday night?”

“Uhh…”

Did she? He tried not to seem suspicious as he tried to remember what exactly he told Angle. Right, something about her mother and leaving the night before.

“Yeah, she did leave on Monday evening.”

“Hey again!” Their server stopped at their table, carrying a tray of glasses and their onion ring tower. “So super sorry about the wait. I wanted to make sure I got this appetizer out to you guys as quick as I could.”

Fine Roast simply watched as she distributed everyone’s drinks and set the onion town in the middle of the table. He half paid attention as she began taking all their orders. Saved by the waitress. Roast almost let out a sigh, but caught himself before he did anything else to make them ask questions. He really needed to get with Firefly to get all this stuff figured out.

“And what would you like, sir?” the waitress asked Roast.

“Could I get the parmesan eggplant, please?”

“Stuffed eggplant parmesan, you got it. Anything else I can get for you all?”

As Quick Sketch took point on the waitress conversation, Roast reached for an onion ring and dipped it in the marinara sauce. Taking a bite, he thought about how he would deal with questions if they asked any more. Even though he had confided in them about his relationship troubles before, the topic wasn’t exactly one he could bring up in normal conversation. He stared down at his half eaten onion ring, thinking about some story or other to tell them. He wasn’t used to this whole sneaking-around-and-mincing-words thing. Maybe she was right and he wouldn’t make a very good changeling.

“Hey Roast.” Silver Trinket snapped him out of his thoughts.

“Yeah?” He snapped his head up.

“Angle was saying something.” She nodded her head at the stallion sitting next to Roast.

Ugh, this is exactly what I was trying to avoid.

“Sorry,” Roast apologized, looking over at his friend, “kind of got lost in my own world.”

“Yeah, we could tell.” Straight Angle raised an eyebrow. “I was just askin’ if everything was okay.”

“Erm, yes? Why?” Stop stammering, dangit!

“Well, when I brought up Sweet Leaf, you kinda closed up and started staring at nothin’,”

“Oh,” he said lamely, looking down at his hooves.

Think of something quick! He frantically searched his brain, but couldn’t come up with anything believable that would make him act like that. Though maybe I could tell them only some of the truth. Maybe about Wavy?

He had no idea if it was a good idea to tell them or not. Then again, it was a public thing and Sweet Leaf did get upset at him that morning in front of everyone. He mentally shrugged, not knowing what else to say.

A few too many seconds had passed before Roast looked back up and over at Angle. He gave a sigh, hoping it would make it feel more authentic. “Something kind of did happen, I guess. Sweet and I got into a bit of a… fight?” He grimaced at the word. “Eh, not really the right word. Had an incident with one of Sweet’s friends and, well, the whole thing is kind of complicated.”

“It’s quite alright, Roast, dear.” Quick Sketch smiled at him. “We have more than enough time to talk about it. Why don’t you start from the beginning?”

Roast wavered a little back and forth, but decided it would probably be the best. “Yeah, alright. So, late Monday night, one of Sweet Leaf’s friend’s special somepony named Wavy Pallette came by after the cafe had closed.”

“Wait a moment,” Sketch interrupted. “Wavy Pallette? I know him. I talked to him when he was showing his art at a gallery a few weeks ago. He seemed like quite a nice stallion.” He cleared his throat. “Sorry, you may continue.”

Roast nodded. “Long story short, he claimed he saw his marefriend, Sweet’s friend, change into a changeling.”

“Woah, was it true?” Silver asked, wide eyed.

“Yeah, turns out it was. After he left, Bobby Pin, Wavy’s marefriend, came by and tried to attack Sweet Leaf outside.”

Quick Sketch gasped, holding a hoof over his mouth.

“Is she okay?” Straight Angle asked, concern covering his face.

“Yeah, she’s fine. I didn’t see what happened and when I went out the back door to find out who Sweet Leaf had greeted, I saw Bobby Pin standing over my wife. Bobby Pin ran off after that. We went back inside and locked the door.”

Silver raised an eyebrow. “You guys didn’t go to the guard?”

“Erm, no,” Roast said, trying to think of an answer why they wouldn’t have. Ah, yes. “Earlier that day Sweet had gotten the letter about her mother and she had to go. I got caught up in seeing her off and forgot to even go. Plus, what would we have told them? That a changeling came by and jumped my wife?”

“It is not the statement to the guard that is important, Roast.” Sketch frowned at him. “It’s you and your wife’s safety. What if she had come back? What did she even come there for?”

“I… guess you’re right.” Roast couldn’t refute that. Normally, he would have gone straight to the guard, like Sweet Leaf had suggested that night. That is if he hadn’t already known she wasn’t what she seemed. “And I don’t know. I think Sweet said she was looking for something. I’ll take Sweet Leaf tomorrow to go see the guard. But, that part wasn’t what was bothering me.

“Yesterday morning, Wavy came into the shop right at the tail end of the morning rush and accused Sweet Leaf of being a changeling.”

“He what?!” Quick Sketch gaped at Roast.

“Yeah, I was pretty incredulous. And angry.”

“I certainly would be too!” Sketch exclaimed. “I couldn’t imagine what I would do if somepony came and interrupted my work to make such baseless claims. Assuming Wavy’s claim was baseless, that is.”

“It was. Something about Sweet Leaf having spent too much time with her friend lately.” Once the others had finished snickered at the silly idea, Roast continued. “But the problem was something happened during that fight that made Sweet Leaf angry at me. I’m not really sure what it was, though.”

“What do ya mean?” Straight Angle asked. “Can you think of anything that you might have done?”

“All I can think of is that I was trying to defend her, but I do that all the time. I guess she did try to get my attention once or twice.”

“Roast, dearest.” Sketch reached around the onion ring tower and patted Roast’s foreleg. “You can get a little, shall we say, one track minded sometimes.”

Roast sighed and slumped his shoulders. “Maybe that was the problem. She did yell at me and told me she wanted to handle it. Said she wanted to get her piece out.”

“I can’t say for sure, but maybe it would be good to apologize and ask what’s wrong,” Silver added.

“That’s kind of the problem. She’s been kind of distant since then and said she needed to figure her feelings out.”

“S’not really all that surprising.” Angle shrugged. “After feelin’ hurt, ponies sometimes need a little space. Maybe this was the tippin’ point and she needed to figure out which straw broke her back before she lashed out ‘n made things worse.”

“Yeah, maybe,” Roast let his sentence trail off.

A few seconds of silence passed before Silver's horn lit as she pulled an onion ring off the tower. “I can’t speak as much as you all, but I don’t know what I’d do if my special somepony turned out to be a changeling.”

“I’ve got no idea what I’d do, honestly.” Angle replied, grabbing an onion ring as well. “Probably try to grab it and shake an answer out of the thing.”

“Ugh! I do not want to even think about it.” Quick Sketch shuddered, wrapping his forelegs around himself, his wings half opening against the seat back. “I have a hard enough time dealing with normal sized insects. Imagine having to deal with a pony-sized one that can suck your love right out of you!”

“Aw, it’ll be okay, Sketch,” Silver said through a mouthful of onion ring, patting Sketch on the back. “We can get you a really big fly swatter.”

“Could you please not talk with your mouth full.”

“Eh, I can think about it,” she said through more onion ring, then swallowed. “Somewhat related, I dunno if you guys read the newspaper lately, but there’s reports of a bunch of ponies accusing their special someponies of being changelings. No reports on any truth to it though.”

“Mmhm, I saw,” Roast agreed, happy to have a change of topic away from his wife, even if it was about her race. Species? He wasn’t sure. “One of the articles said a stallion accused his wife of coming home late from work and leaving for unexplained outings some nights. Sounds like an altogether different problem if you ask me.”

“Yeah.” Silver dipped another ring in the sauce. “I’m not really sure how to feel about the idea of having a bunch of love eating creatures around, disguised as who knows what. Though I do wonder, like, where did they come from? Why did they attack? How long have they even been in Equestria?”

“I have no idea,” Sketch started as he grabbed his first onion ring, “but I just wish they’d figure out a spell and squash the awful things. It’s far too frightening having those things roaming out there. Who knows when they might come and snatch up you or your loved ones.”

“I’m as much for stoppin’ foalnapping as any other pony,” Angle began, “but don’t cha think outright killin’ ‘em is going a little far?”

“Hardly!” Sketch flicked his mane back. “What do you think they do to the ponies they replace? And how about what they would have done to us should they have won?”

“I’m not sure what they do with them,” Roast half lied. He knew they drained ponies of love after taking them back to the hive, but he didn’t know if that was all they did. “Though don’t you think it would be better to figure out why they attacked before committing genocide?”

“Roast, dear.” Quick Sketch looked him directly in the eyes. “As you said, they have already attacked us, without provocation at that. We already know they replace ponies and apparently leave them to die. If they have that kind of moral compass already, how do you know any justification they could give would be truthful?”

“Shouldn’t everypo—everyone be given a chance though?”

“I’m kinda with Sketch on this one,” Silver Trinket interrupted. “Maybe not to his extreme, but he has a point. If they could be anypony, anywhere, how could you trust something like that? Everything they do and say could be a way to manipulate you into… whatever they want.”

“I… Hm. I guess you’re right.” Roast looked down at the table as the conversation lapsed into silence. He’d already given Firefly a free pass on that. There was no way she’d agree to let him freely talk to other ponies if she was still trying to cover up his discovery. And he’d already said he didn’t believe she was manipulating him, at least in a way that was harmful.

He looked up as the topic moved on to other things, but only barely paid attention. What if she wasn’t trying to manipulate him, but rather was doing it unconsciously? She said she was trained in being a… whatever she said she was. Did they cover what to do in Firely’s situation?

Or even if it didn’t, what if her hive ordered her to capture him? Would she try to find a way around it or simply give in? He didn’t believe she’d do anything to harm him, but Silver brought up a, well, it wasn’t necessarily good, but it was a point. Could he really trust a changeling after everything they did?

He mentally reeled. What was he even saying?! She was Firefly, not some love hungry changeling! This was his wife that he dedicated himself to, even knowing for years she probably wasn’t a pony. He said he would trust her and he intended to keep his word. Even if… even if there were a lot of questions he didn’t know how to answer.

“Roast!”

Roast looked up in alarm at a Silver and her furrowed brow. “Huh? What?”

“I tried calling you a couple times.”

“You were makin’ some faces there, bud,” Angle said, concern on his face.

“Ah.” Roast rubbed the back of his neck. “Sorry guys. I kinda got lost again. Thinking about changeling things.”

“‘Salright bud.” Angle patted him on the back with his huge, heavy hooves. “They ain’t gonna getcha, not while you still got us.”

“Uh, thanks guys and gal.” He made a show of giving each of them a thankful smile, though he hoped none of them would make good on that idle promise.

“Alright!” The server gleefully came up next to the table and placed a tray stand on the ground, setting the tray on top. “Who ordered the stuffed eggplant parmesan?”

“That was me.” Roast raised his hoof.

Once the waitress distributed the rest of the meals and moved on, Roast spoke up. “Hey, what would you guys think about doing something different next time we do an outing? Maybe visit a billiard hall or an arcade?”

“I would be ‘down,’ so to speak, for a night of billiards,” Quick Sketch said as he picked up a fork and knife in his hooves.

“Yeah, I could do that.” Silver agreed.

“Ooh, switching it up sounds great. What about…”

Roast smiled as he watched the results of his wife’s idea blossom. Though inwardly he frowned. The conversation had moved on, but Roast couldn’t keep out of his mind his friends’ thoughts on changelings. He didn’t want to consider what they might think or do if they knew about Firefly.

Going to the guard wasn’t a desirable option either. It was all too risky.

He may not know what to do with all these what-ifs, but he knew he loved her. They’d find a way to get through it, even if his trust needed a little reassurance every now and then.

But first, he had to figure out how to fix whatever he’d done to make Firefly upset.

Roast closed the back door behind him, walking through the kitchen and up the stairs. He and his friends had stayed out a little later than they intended and it was almost ten in the evening when he finally got home. Reaching the top of the stairs and looking left into the bedroom, he was surprised to see Sweet Leaf still awake, reading a book in bed.

“Hey hon.” Roast walked to his side of the bed.

She looked up from her book. “Hey. You’re home a little late. Did you have a good time?”

“Yeah, it was good. We got to talking after dinner and time flew by.” He lifted the covers and climbed into bed.

“Mm.” She picked up a bookmark, placed it in her book, and set the novel on her nightstand. “Sounds like fun.”

“Yeah. Though, we did talk a bit about what happened yesterday.”

That got her attention as she looked him directly in the eyes and raised an eyebrow. “Oh? Nothing… revealing, I hope.”

He shook his head. “No, we just talked about Wavy and Bobby Pin and his encounter yesterday morning.”

“Are you sure that was a good idea?”

Roast sighed and shrugged. “I don’t know. I asked myself the same question, but the whole debacle was public and it seemed like it would have been odd if I didn’t tell them about it. If you weren’t a, well, changeling, then I definitely would have told them.”

She grinned and chuckled a little. “Maybe I was wrong about you. Maybe you could make a halfway decent changeling.”

He laughed. “Oh, I thought about that tonight and I think you were right. I’ve got a long way to go before I could be anywhere as clever as you.”

“Oh sweetie.” She smiled and laid a hoof on his. “I’ve been doing this my whole life. You can’t expect to have skills you’ve never used before.” Her smile dropped as she became more serious. “Though we are going to need you to start thinking a little more like a changeling, like you did tonight.”

“Yeah, definitely.” He nodded his head in agreement. “I noticed how hard it was when I was trying to come up with a story about how you went to ‘visit your family’ on Tuesday.”

“We’ll need to go over that so we can keep on the same page.” She retracted her hoof. “And I’ll need to send a letter over to my ‘parents’ in Manehatten so they know we used them. Just in case.”

“That’s smart.” Roast looked at her in mild surprise. “I hadn’t thought about that. Are there actual changelings posing as your parents over there?”

“Kind of. Lots of love collectors and infiltrators all over Equestria pose as family for different changelings via letter. I don’t have any ‘children’, but two others here in town do. My parents happen to be in Manehatten. It’s all a part of keeping lies straight.”

“So the two ponies at our wedding were those changelings?” he asked, curious about who really were the ones that kissed him on the cheek at his wedding.

“Nope.” She shook her head. “I’d requested a couple changelings from the hive to pose as my parents and they assigned those to me.” She let out a long yawn. “Anyway, as much as I like educating you, we need to sleep.”

Her yawn infected him and he let one of his own out. “Sleep does sound good.”

As she was reaching for her bedside lamp, he remembered and held out a hoof.

“Uh, honey,” he began.

She paused and looked back at him. “Yes?”

“Were you able to… figure things out?” he said hesitantly.

She leaned back and sat upright, looking at him again. “I think I did. Though I also think it would be best if we saved that for tomorrow when we’re both more awake.”

He sighed in relief. “That’s good. Okay, we can deal with that tomorrow.”

She smiled. “Thank you, Roast, for being patient with me.”

He leaned over and posed his lips a couple inches away from hers. When she leaned forward and met him, he pressed harder into her, savoring the first kiss they’d shared since he’d confronted her about her true nature.

He pulled back and looked fondly at the love of his life. “Life might be bumpy sometimes, but we all need some love and kindness, especially little love bugs like you.”

She giggled and pushed him away. “You’re such a sap.”

He grinned. “Maybe, but I’m your sap.”

“Well take your sappy self to dreamland. We gotta work tomorrow.”

“Yes, my dearest. Goodnight.”

He tried to sleep, but it evaded him. Eventually, he felt her body relax, but his mind kept wandering and playing the evening’s conversations and thoughts over and over. Even focusing on her warmth in front of him didn’t help, they just kept coming back.

Several times, sleep nearly found him, but each time he would snap awake. Over an hour passed before his mind exhausted itself enough to fall into slumber’s clutch.

His dreams that night were not pleasant.

Meadowlark sat, staring out of the train with half lidded eyes, elbow planted on the window ledge, cheek resting in her hoof. She hadn’t kept track of how long she’d been apathetically watching the landscape slowly pass by, turning from endless hilly grassland into interspersed rural communities. Her gaze lingered, then flicked from one area to the next. A couple carriages passing each other. Farmers working fields in the mid-morning autumn weather. Ponies constructing a new barn’s frame.

“Next stop, Cincinneighti! If this is your final destination, please begin gathering your belongings. We will be arriving in about fifteen minutes.”

She turned away from the window, watching as the conductor passed her, probably to give the same message to the next car. Glancing over at her saddlebags on the seat next to her, she nodded to herself that they were indeed still there. She then turned her gaze to the cabin once again.

The mare and stallion who had been on the train since Meadowlark joined at Hoofington were still in the same seats two rows ahead of her, facing away and quietly talking. The mother at the far corner of the carriage was waking her filly, no doubt to depart at the next stop. No one else had joined their cabin since Hoofington.

Meadowlark yawned and covered her mouth with a hoof. Feeling the urge, she breathed in deep and stretched, arching her back and flaring her wings. Little grunts escaped her as her spine popped. Releasing the tension and folding her wings, she licked her dry lips and shifted to find a more comfortable position. Finally settling down away from the window, she twisted her lower half, resting on a thigh and lowering her chest to the seat. Relaxing fully, she let out a long, quiet sigh.

She was tired, her back hurt, and she was pretty sure she was starting to smell again. None of that was surprising when one spent the previous two nights sleeping on a park bench after finding an easy house to repossess goods and bits from. Prowling long hours into the night and hardly restful sleep did not make it easy to keep up one’s comfort or appearance. Checking to make sure none of the other four cabin occupants were looking, she put her muzzle close to her underarm then wing pit, taking a couple sniffs. She pulled away grimacing as, sure enough, the odor was returning.

Huffing, Meadowlark realized she’d need to clean herself up before leaving the train. Reluctantly, she moved from her comfy spot and slid out of her seat. Donning her saddlebags, she left the cabin through the door behind her. Entering the short hallway, she saw three doors. Ahead lead to the next carraige, on her right was marked for employees only, and on her left was the restroom. She slid open the left door, walked into the small space, and closed then locked it.

Putting her saddlebags on a coat hook, she eyed the toilet. She didn’t really need to go, but figured it would be best to do so while she could.

After finishing her business, she stood in front of the sink and mirror. She listened for a short moment behind her and, once satisfied the only sound was clunking of train wheels over tracks, she closed her eyes, letting signature green flames engulf her. Opening her eyes again, Spindle took in her changeling form once more. Even in this form, she looked tired. Her shoulders were slumped and her eyes drooping. That would have to be fixed. In a little bit, though.

Focusing on her body, she looked along her head and frills, spotting definite signs of grease. She shifted her wings and felt slickness on her black chitin.

She grabbed some paper towels in her magic, wetting them with water and hoof soap and began to scrub herself down. Spindle thought, not for the first time, that it would be much more convenient for bodily excretions to simply disappear when transforming.

But no, she rolled her eyes as she wiped down her wings, that would be too easy.

Though she was a little grateful that she could transform her mane and coat into a combed state and a lot grateful that her chitin was far easier to clean and dry than fur.

After soaping herself, she ran multiple wet paper towels over her body until there was no soap, then finished by wiping up any leftover wetness with dry towels. Throwing away the used products into the waste bin, she looked herself in the mirror once more. Green flames engulfed her again and greeting her was Meadowlark's light grey coat, darker grey mane, and… green eyes?

Meadowlark squinted into her own orbs, trying to remember if they were, indeed, green. She scowled at herself for not remembering even the most basic of things a changeling needed to remember when disguised. In her own defense, she’d made her pony guise in a rush, finding some colors that worked and moving on; it wasn’t like she looked at her own eyes very often anyway.

She rolled her decidedly wrong eyes at herself. Defending you from yourself? Really? She shook her head, focusing again on her irises, knowing she needed to fix the color.

Flash. Yellow? No, that looked terrible with grays. Flash. Blue? It wasn’t a bad combination, but it still wasn’t the right one. Flash. Magenta? Kind of? But it still wasn’t clicking. Flash. Purple?

Her eyes lit up in recognition. Purple! That was the one. Purple. Remember purple.

Taking her focus off the color of her eyes, she noticed that while it was less obvious, her eyelids were still drooping with fatigue. She took a deep breath and straightened her back, squeezing her eyes shut then rapidly blinking away her tiredness.

It worked as well as could be expected. That is, not very well. Hopefully she’d wake up after she got moving into Cincinneighti proper.

Her body jerked and she caught herself as the train suddenly lurched, slowing down. She looked back at the door, realizing they must be arriving.

She grabbed her saddle bags, secured them onto her back, and right as she was about to head out the door, she stopped. Another flash of green flames engulfed her. She decided that she may as well have her pheromone glands in place, just in case she ran into another changeling.

With that taken care of, she headed out into the little hallway and then the cabin. As she walked towards the next train car, she looked out the window and saw city streets and buildings passing ever slower outside.

Back in front of her, the mare and stallion were naught to be seen and the mother was ushering her daughter through the cabin door on the far side of the carriage. She hurried over, following the two into the next cabin and waiting with several other ponies. Soon enough, the train passed into a large, enclosed station. Inside was a fair-sized crowd waiting on benches or in front of the boarding area.

The locomotive crawled to a stop and the conductor opened the door, releasing the horde of ponies into the station. Meadowlark followed at the rear of the gaggle and soon exited the carriage. Outside of the train stood the conductor, repeating himself every few seconds. She locked eyes with him and he smiled, offering her the same statement.

“Welcome to Cincinneighti!”

Meadowlark stopped next to the train employee. “Thank you. You wouldn’t happen to know where the nearest welcome center is, would you?”

“Of course!” He offered a smile. “Head out the big double doors and take a right. It’s at the end of the block on the other side of the street. You can’t miss it.”

“Thank you again.” Receiving a nod from the conductor, she left, crossing the large building and exiting through the double doors.

The first thing she noticed was the smell. It came and went; one breath it would be there, another couple and it was gone. Her nose wrinkled as she sniffed a few more times to try and place it. The closest thing she could think of was the days old musty pizza and grilled cheese that Wavy Palette sometimes left out when struck by inspiration. She immediately decided she wasn’t particularly fond of it.

“Hey, you mind movin’?”

Behind her she noticed she’d blocked one side of the doors, ponies passing around her through the other.

“Sorry.” She scampered off down the sidewalk. Looking across the street at the end of the block, sure enough there was a building with a wide, wooden sign. In big, arching letters, it said “Welcome Center” and under the text was a cornucopia of ponies. A ballerina dancer next to a tiger, an opera singer next to a chef holding a plate, and an artist painting next to a pony playing guitar.

Meadowlark raised an eyebrow at it. The sign was very… enthusiastic looking, but its grandeur was offset by the building’s noticeably faded white paint. Though, it didn’t matter what it looked like, as long as it could get her what she needed. Reaching the intersection crosswalk, she stopped, waiting for the traffic of carriages to free up.

After a short bit, other ponies began to cross and she stepped off with them. Once across the street, she walked over to the welcome center’s front door and peered at the well-worn open sign. It featured a smiling magenta, earth pony mare with a coral mane, happy, bright sky blue eyes, and a hoof held out in welcome. Meadowlark pulled open the door, bells jingling above her. In front was an old, chipped counter about chest height running all the way to the right wall. Placed all across it were stands displaying pictures and pamphlets of attractions and locations to visit. To the left was a small hallway and to the right a small area with a well packed brochure stand along the side and front walls.

Seeing nopony around, she went over and looked through the brochures. There were so many, she wasn’t sure where to even start. Right as she was reaching a hoof to grab one about art museums, she heard a door open in the hallway. She turned and saw a middle aged, magenta mare round the corner, featuring a coral mane and tail, matching the open sign pony in everything but age.

“Well hello there dearie!” The mare gave her beaming smile. She came to stop behind the counter opposite of Meadowlark. “Welcome to Cincinneighti! My name’s Rosy Swirl and I run this welcome center. Though everypony just calls me Mamma Rose. Now who might you be?”

“Uh, hi,” Spindle hesitated, initially put off by the utter cheer the pony was exuding. “My name’s Meadowlark.”

“Wonderful to meetcha Miss Meadowlark! I saw you were looking through those brochures. Anything in particular you’re looking for?”

“Yeah, I’m kinda new here.” She paused for a second, then awkwardly chuckled as she realized how silly that was. “B-But you probably already knew that. I’m wanting to find some art shows or galleries.”

Mamma Rose hummed for a moment, then turned and walked out from behind the counter. “Well, I’m not too sure about art shows at the moment, but we’ve got a few art galleries downtown, east of here.” She came to a stop next to Meadowlark and, reaching into the sea of brochures, she plucked out a set of three. “Here you are Miss Meadowlark. These are the only ones I’m aware of. Was there anything else you were looking for?”

“Yes, do you happen to know of any inns on the, erm, cheaper side?”

“Well…” she began slowly, “you certainly won’t find any in the downtown area. I would try heading north of Downtown. There’s some decent lodging on the cheaper side. Further west of here are very cheap motels, but I’m afraid I couldn’t recommend you that way and would advise you stay clear of there. The area has quite a few unsavory neighborhoods and businesses.”

Unsavory neighborhoods might have to be what Spindle reduced herself to. Hoofington was small enough to not have many criminals or ne’er-do-wells, so sleeping on a bench wasn’t much of an issue. Here, she definitely didn’t want to risk falling asleep around who knew what kind of ponies. Not to mention she had no idea how the local guard dealt with homelessness.

“Thank you for the advice. You said Downtown was East of here?”

“Oh, sweetie.” She set a hoof on Meadowlark’s shoulder. “Cincinneighti might not be a sprawling Manehatten metropolis, but it’s certainly quite large. The heart of downtown is around twenty or so blocks from here and I would definitely recommend taking a taxi.”

“That’s okay.” Meadowlark put on a smile, knowing she didn’t have the bits to spare for a taxi. “I don’t mind walking.”

Mamma Rose gave her a tilted glance and a raised eyebrow. “If you’re sure. It’s a bit of a trek.”

At Meadowlark’s nod, the older mare continued.

“Alrighty then, dear.” She reached over to stand on the counter and pulled out a city map. She opened it and set it on a clear counter space, pointing to a spot on the map. “Okay, we’re here near the center of the city. East of us over here,” she moved her hoof right, “is where you’ll want to go. Could I borrow those brochures for a moment please?”

Meadowlark hoofed them over and Mamma Rose grabbed a pen on the counter. The magenta mare scribbled dots and named them, then drew a circle a little ways north. Once she was done, she moved aside, reaching over and pointed to the three dots downtown. “Here are all three of your art galleries. And up here is where I would start your look for hotels. Any questions?”

Meadowlark studied the map for a few moments, making sure she knew which direction to head. “No, ma’am. Thank you for your help.”

“It’s what I’m here for, dearie.” Mamma Rose beamed then grabbed and folded up the map, giving it and the brochures back to Meadowlark. “Now, if you ever need something else or just wanna have a nice chat, you’re always welcome back.”

“Thank you,” Meadowlark said again, placing the pieces of paper in her saddlebags. She waved at the kind mare and turned, opening the door, the bells jingling on her way out.

She walked to the street corner and took a left, moving deeper into the city.

Not for the first time, the thought of being on her own reared its head as she continued down the sparsely crowded streets. When she first arrived in Hoofington, Skitter had been there to receive her and show her around. She remembered from her training in the hive that there were groups of love collectors in multiple cities, including Cincinneighti. She simply had no way of finding them in such a large place. The best she could do was find a motel or place to stay and send a letter back to the hive.

Before she’d left the hive for Hoofington, Spindle also had a proper set of saddlebags with a bag full of bits and love crystals. Now she only had a pair of reappropriated, somewhat weathered saddlebags and a mere dozen and a half bits left after purchasing her train ticket. She could attempt to raid more houses, but that in itself was quite risky. She preferred to play it safe and wait for the hive to respond.

As she waited at another busy cross street, an empty, clawing sensation grew deep in her chest not for the first time. She ignored it as best as she could. There was nothing to do about her growing hunger for love. The only way to fix it was to wait for something from the hive or find a pony to love her.

It was quite unlikely she’d find the latter in any reasonable amount of time.

The street cleared and she crossed, continuing into the outskirts of downtown Cincinneghti. She’d only had a couple months to get used to it, but already she missed having a home to return to and a pony to give her love. She missed getting to spend time with Firefly and even Fine Roast. She missed the monthly changeling meetings, but most of all, she missed not being hungry.

A bit selfishly, she was happy she’d been able to make it through collector training, even if it was by only a small margin. There were times such as those present when she would be hungry, but back at the hive, love rations were always limited. There was plenty of solid food at the eatery, but no changeling was ever portioned out enough love to be satisfied. Spindle idly wondered how much worse it was going to get at the hive now.

A deep growl emanated from her stomach and she put a hoof over her belly, a stark reminder she hadn’t eaten anything physical since the evening before. Having entered downtown proper, she kept an eye out as she continued walking. Not but a few minutes later, she spotted what looked like a half outdoor cafe the next block down.

Once she’d crossed the street and neared the place, found it indeed was what she suspected. A sign above the cafe proclaimed it as The Fancy Unicorn with a silhouette of the same in an elegant pose. A decorative, chest high, black metal fence surrounded the outdoor seating area. Nearly the entire side of the building was a wide, open door, leading to the indoor seating. Standing next to the single open gate was a hostess in a tuxedo suit top.

Meadowlark stepped up to the open gate and faced the well dressed mare.

“Good morning and welcome to The Fancy Unicorn!” the hostess greeted cheerily. “How many are we seating today?”

“Just one, please.”

“Sure!” She grabbed a menu and a set of utensils. “Would you like inside or outside?”

“I think inside would be best.”

“Of course. Please follow me.”

It was a little less than an hour from lunch time and there were several ponies already seated. The hostess led her past other guests to a table inside and placed the menu and utensils down. “Your server will be with you shortly.”

Meadowlark placed her saddlebags on the opposite chair and sat down. The interior of the restaurant was a soft blue with interspersed stone-like columns and sparse modern art paintings that she was sure somepony, somewhere could find meaning in. Even with one of her skill focuses in training being artistry and coming from a role dating an artist, she still didn’t understand how four different colored, haphazardly placed circles on a canvas could be considered art.

She nearly contemplated it for a moment, but decided then wasn’t the time to attempt unraveling the universe’s mysteries. Opening the menu, she looked the first page over and realized she might have made a little mistake. While she could probably afford some of it, a proper meal would likely cost nearly all the bits she’d pilfered.

“Hey there!” A pink earth pony in a suit came practically skipped up to her table. “My name’s Juniper. Can I get you started with something to drink?”

“Uh, just water please.” Meadowlark said, considering if she should simply leave and find somewhere more affordable.

“You got it! Any appetizers for you?”

“No thank you.”

“Gotcha. I’ll be right back with that water.” The server trotted off towards the kitchen.

Humming, Meadowlark tapped the table as she perused the menu, looking over the prices. Thinking about it and considering where she was, she doubted there would be many cheaper restaurants in the area, except maybe a Hayburger joint. She shrugged, deciding she’d simply not pay. She was a changeling after all, though she did feel a tiny bit guilty about it.

Now then, what to eat? Going to the first entree page, she looked over her options. Preferably she’d like something light in carbs. Even though she was in a pony’s body, she still had no use for them. Though as Skitter liked to make known every meeting, they often could be quite tasty.

Looking away from the menu, she considered for a moment. If she were ever in a negative size waist disguise, that excuse would work great. It would allow plenty more nutrients that her body could actually process rather than throwing bits at food that went to waste. At least, she thought that’s how those diets worked.

Yeah, like you’d ever find a role as a model. Keep dreaming.

She snorted and shook her head, focusing back on the menu. Eventually she reached the salad section and was pleasantly surprised to find a salad topped with tofu, peas, quinoa, and a peanut butter dressing. It even had a fitting name. She set the menu down as looking further was decidedly not needed.

A few moments later, her server came from behind and set her glass of water on the table. “Here you are, ma’am. Have you decided what you’d like to eat?”

“Yes. Could I get the protein kicker salad please?”

“Absolutely. Anything else?”

Meadowlark shook her head. “No thank you, that’s it.”

“You got it. I’ll get that put in as soon as I can.”

Less than half an hour later, Meadowlark set the fork down, chewing on the last bits of her salad. She swallowed and sat back, a contented sigh escaping her lips. The meal was more than decent and if she’d ended up staying in Cincinneighti, she would make this one of her go-to restaurants. Assuming she found somepony that made decent bits or if she could make some herself.

She felt bad for not compensating the ponies for such a tasty meal, but she’d done the math and she’d only have a single bit left after paying for it, not including the tip. She preferred to have money for later in case there were situations she couldn’t change her way out of.

Pushing her seat back, she stood, moved around to the other side of the table, and donned her saddlebags. After situating them on her back, she looked around and spotted the restroom sign in the back. She nearly took a first step before a voice called from behind her.

“Excuse me, ma’am.”

Meadowlark turned around and saw her waitress a few steps behind. “Yes?”

“Pardon the intrusion, I was just about to check in and see if there was anything else you needed before I brought you the check.”

Well that was inconvenient. She was hoping to get out without her server noticing. “No, I don’t. I need to make a trip to the restroom and I’ll be right back out.”

“Of course! Take your time.”

The mare was very smooth. A pony could have easily been fooled by her smile and disarming tone. Though beneath that cheery, smiling exterior, Spindle felt suspicion oozing out and Spindle couldn’t blame her. She’d likely experienced such eat-and-run tactics before.

Unluckily for the poor server, she wasn’t dealing with a pony.

Meadowlark offered the mare a final smile then turned towards the restrooms. Making her way around tables and along the rear wall, she entered the mare’s room. The decor matched the main indoor area, though the strong floral scent was an addition she could have done without. She wrinkled her nose at the smell as she walked past the couch and sinks on the left and the first two stalls on the right. Thankfully, only the first stall was in use and she entered the last. Closing the door, she set her saddlebags on the coat hook then stood silently as she waited for the other occupant to leave.

She could feel a sneeze coming on from the potent flowery scent. There were worse smells in such facilities, but— “AH CHOO!” —she wiped her nose, wishing it weren’t this potent. No other mare’s restrooms she’d been to in Equestria had been this bad or was even like this at all. Maybe it was something fancy restaurants did?

Soon enough, the mare in the other stall finished, washed her hooves, and left. Now alone, Spindle tapped her chin in thought as she tried to come up with a good disguise. She figured a pegasus would be good here. While she was scouting for potential sources, mobility would be nice to have. She also still wanted to be a mare; she was never very good at behaving like a stallion. Her acting was passable and had gotten her through training, but she never felt right playing as a stallion. Plus having male “equipment” was plain weird.

With a flash, she changed into a… pegasus? Her brows furrowed as it felt like nothing had changed. Realization dawned on her and she facehooved. You were already a pegasus, you dummy. Well at least with the shift she’d also changed to a random mare voice.

Moving on and ignoring her lack of attentiveness, for a cutie mark, she was a pegasus, so something cloud related. Her flanks flashed and a sun partially hiding behind clouds appeared. Turning to inspect it, she had no complaints. This was likely a throw away disguise anyway, so no need to spend that much time on it.

Along with a cutie mark came a name. No need to be all that creative. Something Breeze maybe. Silver Breeze? She shook her head. Meadow Breeze? She almost decided against it, but figured it would be good enough. There was only one pony who knew her current disguise’s name anyway and she had no intention of using that barely-there connection.

That just left colors. Spindle wished she could be in front of a mirror. All collectors were taught color theory, but her imagination of colors was always a bit off. They never seemed right until she could see herself all together and make little tweaks. But it was simply too risky for somepony to walk in on her as she was changing.

Spindle looked her current disguise over, Lifting a foreleg, she inspected her light gray coat and pulled her darker gray mane into sight. She would have looked at her green—no, purple. Purple!—eyes, but she had no reflective surfaces. For her purposes, she needed something different enough from her current form so she could waltz right past the servers and hostess.

Perhaps yellow? She shifted her coat and cringed at the bright banana yellow. Eugh, no. Something less offensive. Shifting again, she went with a cream coat, not too dissimilar from Fine Roast’s fur. She shrugged, figuring it was good enough.

Now mane color to match. Yellow’s complement is purple, so cream’s would be… light purple? She was pretty sure that was right and shifted into it, making her mane extra long to compare colors. Laying her hair over her foreleg, she scrunched her muzzle, not sold on the combination.

Perhaps go monochrome instead? Shifting her mane again into a darker cream, almost brown, she still didn’t like it. Augh! This wouldn’t be so tedious every time if ponies weren’t somehow born with color coordinated bodies! She huffed and decided one of the triadic colors would be it, even if it didn’t look great. She closed her eyes, trying to remember the color wheel again.

The left side of the triangle would be… pinkish, rose I think. And the right would be light blue. She decided to go light blue, shifted, and held her foreleg up to her long mane once again. Wavering for a moment, she shrugged and thought it good enough. Eyes, she decided, would need a little contrast and would be green. Actually green this time.

Shifting again into green eyes and a slightly windswept, withers-length mane, she put her saddlebags on and opened the stall door looking straight ahead at a mirror. She walked up to it and squinted at her reflection. Her eyes were okay, but her mane wasn’t quite right, rather it was too light. She glanced over at the door and quickly shifted her mane into a slightly darker sky blue.

Satisfied with her appearance, surprisingly quickly at that, she turned left and headed out of the restroom. Meadow Breeze snorted at the fresh air, happy to be free of the cloying fragrance. Walking towards the exit, she discreetly glanced over at her, or rather Meadowlark’s, table and saw there was indeed a check there. She decided if she ever did come back to the restaurant and got the same waitress, she would leave a big tip for her.

Passing through the now fairly crowded restaurant and into the outdoor section, she headed for the exit where the hostess was posted. As she neared, they locked eyes for a brief moment, giving each other a nod. As the other mare opened her mouth to speak, she instead looked around Meadow Breeze when the well dressed mare turned to look at her.

“Hey, miss!” a voice called behind her.

Maybe it didn’t have anything to do with her, and maybe whatever anger was flooding from behind her was for someone else. So Meadow Breeze decided to continue on, nearly reaching the gate.

“Hey, lady!”

“Excuse me.” The hostess held up a hoof in front of Meadow Breeze. “It looks like my partner’s trying to get your attention.”

“Oh, uh, thanks,” Meadow said, grumbling internally at the interruption. She turned and saw Meadowlark’s waitress, Juniper if she remembered correctly, looking right at her, anger very evident on her face. She almost panicked.

What did I do?!

“Miss,” the server began sharply, “if I’m not mistaken, those are not your saddlebags.”

Spindle barely managed to keep the surprise off her face. Oh for the love of Chrysalis! I didn’t even think about my saddlebags!

“Ah, uh,” Meadow stammered and looked back at the bags on her back. She really wanted to keep these bits and the pamphlets, but she couldn’t think of anything to say that would let her keep them. Out of ideas and time, she faced the waitress again. “I’m so sorry. I have a pair like this at home and I saw them resting on the couch in the restroom and I just grabbed them without thinking. I’m really sorry, I’ll go put them back.”

Juniper gave her a glare, searching her face with skepticism dripping from her. “Alright,” she said simply, stepping to the side.

Meadow Breeze walked back to the restroom, more than a few pony’s eyes on her. Several were regarding her with disdain, some openly showing it, some only sensible by Spindle. She opened the restroom door, unhooked her saddlebags, and set them on the couch. Her nose wrinkled again at the smell and she took a step towards the door, but suddenly paused at a thought. Those pamphlets showed exactly where she was heading. Looking at the stalls and seeing no pony had entered since she left, she opened her bags, took out the three pamphlets and map. She walked to the trash can, looking over the three pamphlets.

She had no idea how long she had before the server got testy and came inside, so she looked over the pamphlets, trying to commit the names to memory, then threw them away. She turned back and headed out the door. She stopped immediately, startled as she came face to face with the waitress.

“I-It’s back in there. I’m sorry for the mix up,” Meadow Breeze said once again. Feeling hot under the other mare’s gaze and her own stupidity, she wished she was anywhere but there. Her nose twitching didn’t help the situation.

“Mind lifting up your wings?” Juniper asked, still squinting.

“I, um. Yes, sure.”

Seemingly satisfied when nothing fell from under the lifted appendages, Juniper puffed out of her nostrils. “Thank you. I’m sorry for being so unpleasant. This wouldn’t have been the first time somepony tried to steal here, from the restaurant or guests.”

“It’s, uh… uh, AH CHOO!” Meadow snorted noisily and wiped her nose again. “Sorry, that fragrance is really strong. Your actions were perfectly understandable.” Meadow put on her most convincing, sympathetic smile.

“Well, bless you, I suppose. And sorry again. Feel free to go about your day.” She gave Meadow a nod and walked off towards the kitchen.

“T-Thanks…” Meadow Breeze stammered lowly. She watched Juniper for a few seconds and saw her looking over towards Meadowbreeze’s table. Deciding she really did not want to have to deal with her again should she find no pony in the restroom, she began walking as naturally as she could towards the exit. She passed by the hostess, giving her a nod and silently sighing in relief as she finally wasn’t stopped.

Turning onto the street, she forced herself to stay calm and refused to think about anything. She couldn’t think. If she did, she didn’t know what she’d do.

Stop thinking about not thinking.

Once again, she waited for carriage traffic to lighten before crossing. Out of the corner of her eye, she peered over at one of the ponies crossing with her. He wasn’t paying attention to her at all, but she wondered if he were to look over, would he see a normal, calm pony or would he see the disaster of a mare she felt like? Would she be able to assuage his concerns if he sensed something was off?

It was easy in training. Well, easier. Even when they had to go into life threatening situations, it was still only a simulation of the real thing. It was only the changeling instructors she had to fool and as long as she passed each lesson, everything went back to normal until the next performance check.

The real, pony world never went back to normal.

And you’re still thinking!

She’d only traveled a block and she was already cracking. The thoughts wouldn’t stay out of her head and she was fighting to keep her jaw from trembling. She came to an alleyway and stopped, peering down it. Seeing it empty, she hurried into it. Nearly halfway to the next street, she sat herself down between some trash cans.

“W-Why can’t you just… be like all the other collectors?” Spindle whispered to herself. Why can’t you remember things? Why can’t you pay attention to big, glaring details like a whole Chrysalis damned pair of saddlebags?! Why can’t you even remember your own disguise?

Tears began pooling in her eyes. It wasn’t fair. None of the others had the problems she did. When she got put under stress, she would start to lose focus and miss details, not that she had that great of a memory to begin with. She’d been able to scrape by collector training by remembering over and over that it was only training. Rarely were they actually put into threatening situations when they were tested. Telling herself that over and over let her focus on the things she needed to in order to not fail. Thankfully, even the few times she did mess up, the instructors never caught it.

None of that mattered now though. The real world didn’t forgive mistakes. She’d gotten lucky again and it was only a matter of time before… she didn’t want to think about that.

She sniffled as a tear finally broke free from her eye, leaving a wet trail down her false fur. You stupid, little… you can’t even keep your emotions in check. She couldn’t be feeling like this right now. Somepony could come by at any moment and she’d be done. They’d take her to the guards and they’d make her tell them where her queen was and then they’d…

Stop it. Stop it, stop it, stop it!

Real collectors didn’t cry. They didn’t let their emotions get the better of them. Firefly never let her emotions get the better of her and if Firefly could do it, so could she. Wiping the moisture from her eyes, she set her trembling jaw stiff, willing the stupid sadness away. Thankfully, there weren’t any other collectors around. If they’d seen her and known what she was blabbering about, they’d probably throw her in a cocoon and ship her back to the hive.

She breathed in deep, held for a moment, then let it out with only a little shakiness. She had to move, she had to start her look for a source, and she had to find a place to stay. Changelings back home were counting on collectors like her.

Standing, she stepped out of her trashcan cubby and made her way back out of the alley. This wasn’t the safety of the hive and it wasn’t a test where life would go back to normal after. This was the cold, uncaring pony world and her only option was to continue on and do better. She’d locked herself into that decision by leaving the hive.

Choice hadn’t been a luxury of hers for a long time.

The Fine Line.

Meadow Breeze stood in front of the unassuming building, looking up at the small, minimalistic sign bearing a line of its name above the door. It took her half an hour of trotting down random streets before she gave up and asked for directions. It only took three ponies before she found a stallion who knew the place. A few blocks later and there she was.

She stepped forward, opening the door and going inside. Immediately she was greeted by a wide, oddly shaped hallway that narrowed unevenly to the right side. On the left side was a small passage with a restroom sign next to it and hanging on the walls were a plethora of paintings and drawings. Only one stallion was in this area admiring the artwork and he paid her no mind as she continued on into the next weirdly dimensioned room.

“Hello!” a mare greeted, sitting at a desk immediately on the left in the room. “Welcome to The Fine Line. Would you like a brochure?” She gestured to the tri-folds sitting fanned out on the table.

“Yes please. Thank you,” Meadow replied, taking a pamphlet. She looked it over as she continued deeper into the gallery. The first page said this particular set of artwork had been on display for the past six days. Further along, it showed all the artists that had contributed their creations. She noticed several big names at the top, but didn’t recognize anyone from the last half.

Satisfied that those were more than likely the local artists, she set off down the odd angled room to another odd angled hallway. Several scattered ponies stood in front of artwork, admiring them or chatting quietly amongst themselves. She peered at the nametags displayed below the frames ponies were near, checking if any matched those she was interested in.

Finally, in the next room a mare and a stallion stood quietly in front of a set of artwork belonging to a pony named Masonite. The pamphlet had a picture of her that showed her to be a unicorn mare. While Spindle had never had a female source before, she was confident she could remember her training about dating mares. Plus, it wasn’t like she could be picky in this situation.

Walking up to a painting two down from the couple, she idly observed the artwork. It seemed this line was all about strangely drawn ponies expressing disconnected and out of place emotions amongst contrasting scenes. Perhaps a metaphor about the inner self’s disparity with the rest of the world? She wasn’t quite sure.

A moment later, the couple took a step towards Meadow Breeze, observing the painting to her right. Meadow looked over and saw the painting to be a mare at a cafe gazing lovingly at a stallion across the street while everyone except her was running from a giant sea monster. A sea monster which happened to be crushing a table right next to the mare.

“I wonder what the artist’s special somepony thinks of her works,” Meadow quietly thought out loud.

The stallion on her right glanced over at her. “I’m not sure. I’d like to imagine he thinks it rather intriguing if he’s still with her after the last year.”

“Hm. I suppose so.”

Well that’s probably a bust. While she could put Masonite’s special somepony on a mental list of ponies to replace, she didn’t have the time to stalk them and get a hang of their relationship. Not to mention, she didn’t know anyling right now that could get her any history on them. She didn’t even know if there was a changeling in Cincinneighti that had access to city records.

On top of that, it wasn’t clear if this stallion really knew if Masonite’s stallion friend even existed. She certainly wasn’t going to ask again and make him suspicious.

Meadow stuck around for a few more minutes, pretending to contemplate the paintings before moving on. It took slowly wandering for what was probably around fifteen minutes until she found another pony observing an artist’s paintings she was interested in. Looking at the nametag under the painting, these indeed belonged to a Silver Varnish. A unicorn stallion, she recalled the pamphlet saying. It even mentioned him being born and raised in Cincinneighti.

Exactly what Spindle was looking for. She hoped so, anyway.

Sweeping her gaze around at the line of artwork, they appeared to be slices of life from ancient Marecedonia. Some of them, she noted, even depicted war. One had a unicorn mare holding a sword to another pony’s throat with battered and bruised allies on both sides.

Meadow Breeze recoiled slightly at one painting immediately to her right. Some risqué things were allowed in the name of art, she knew, but that one was just plain lewd. She decided to observe near where her targeted mare was, which happened to be on the opposite side from that painting.

The one Meadow had chosen was a depiction of public baths in an old style column-filled building. It was definitely very detailed in every part of pony anatomy.

“The ponies in these paintings are so realistic,” Meadow Breeze spoke out her crafted words. “I wonder if he used a live model for practice. Maybe a special somepony?”

The mare next to her turned her head and regarded her. Sure enough, the oddly specific, prying question got a response of confusion and incredulity from her. “I don’t know,” she finally replied, turning back to the painting in front of her. “But I bet if you were curious enough, you could go ask him yourself. I’m sure he’d love to tell you.”

“Ask him?”

The mare hummed in affirmation. “He started showing his new paintings down at Fresh Take yesterday. I’d bet he’s there again today.”

“Huh. I suppose it’d be interesting to meet him.”

The other mare snorted, but said nothing else.

Inside Meadow was cheering. It took her over two weeks of searching the artist scene back in Hoofington before she’d gotten a solid lead on Wavy Palette. Maybe this would be her chance!

For appearance sake, she stuck around for several more minutes before heading back to the main entrance. The Fresh Take gallery was in the three galleries that Mamma Rose had given her, but she wasn’t sure where exactly it was. She decided asking was probably a good idea.

Stopping at the front desk, she waited for the stallion talking to the receptionist to finish. A short moment later, he left with a pamphlet and Meadow stepped up.

“Hello. Was there something I can help you with?” the mare behind the desk asked.

“Yes. I lost my brochures along the way here. Would you be able to tell me where the Fresh Take gallery is?”

“Absolutely!” The mare smiled happily. “I hear they got a new set of artwork yesterday. It’s actually on this same street. Head right from here and it’s about five blocks down on the other side of the road.”

“Perfect. Thank you very much.” Meadow turned and left, walking back to the oddly shaped entry hall. Looking around to make sure nopony was looking, she entered the single unisex restroom and shut the door.

A short while later, Spindle stepped out wearing a brand new, unicorn body.

Violet Mural was rather proud of her lilac coat and purple mane combinations and she thought her new light blue eyes accentuated the look of both. And her cutie mark of bold to fading cyan, magenta, and yellow rainbow strokes fit such an artsy atmosphere well.

Feeling enthused about herself and her potential new source, she left one gallery, heading for another.

The Fresh Take was much more open than The Fine Line. It was a large, rectangular room with high ceilings. In the middle there were several almost-rooms with wide archways. As she walked along the outer walls, she noticed each inner area displayed a single artist’s work, most notably for popular and well known ponies. In the corners were smaller areas with little diagonal walls opposite the corner that displayed a single, less well known artist’s contributions.

Passing one of the corner displays, she saw along the walls were framed canvases from various ponies she’d never heard of along with several ponies viewing them. Halfway to the next corner, her heart began racing as she saw the name hanging on the far wall: “Silver Varnish.”

Three ponies were in his area, two of which were admiring paintings while one stallion with a light green coat and dark cyan mane stood near the corner, facing the rest of the building.

That’s gotta be him.

Spindle stopped, turning to admire some random pony’s artwork on the wall and willed herself to calm down. He might be her next source, but it was entirely possible he already had a special somepony or even simply wasn’t interested. Regardless, there was no reason to hype herself up for disappointment.

Just be smooth and act like a normal mare. See if he’ll introduce himself when you move on to his paintings.

Slowly, Violet began making her way over, stopping to view a painting for a couple minutes before moving to the next. It wouldn’t do to head straight to him; subtlety was key here. Throughout her gradual journey to his corner, she looked over every time she moved to the next painting. She occasionally saw him politely conversing with some mare or stallion, a friendly smile always on his face.

That certainly boded well for her. Dealing with a stuck up artist was difficult, not even taking into account her true intentions. Or perhaps it worked against her and somepony already got to him first.

Finally, after what had to be over a dozen more paintings, she arrived at his corner. Stepping into the Silver Varnish section, she made a show of looking at the paintings on the far wall. She noticed his eyes on her, but was genuinely surprised to see the quality of this artwork was even greater than those featured at The Fine Line. She wasn’t only prodding for information when she’d said his ancient Marecedonian series was well done. Though this time, it seemed from her cursory glance most of his pieces on display were unrelated, minus maybe a couple here or there.

After viewing part of Silver Varnish’s stock, she grazed her eyes back across his paintings then onto him. He’d been politely not staring at her, but when she peered his way, his eyes snapped back to her.

“Hello! I’m Silver Varnish, though you probably already knew that,” he said with the same friendly smile she’d seen him use with other visitors. “Welcome to my little section of the gallery. Please let me know if you have any questions.”

“Thank you.” She returned his smile and began perusing his work. She tried to see and memorize all the different subtleties he used, his shading technique, the emotions behind them. She’d passed through the first eight on the right wall and moved on to the far wall’s eight. So many of his pieces captured the happiness, despair, and even sensuality of the scenes they were in. Merely looking at one for long enough made Spindle feel like she was really there. Finally, she finished the other wall and moved to the diagonal wall.

Her heart nearly stopped and she froze.

There on the wall were two paintings of unmistakable changelings. Her jaw dropped slightly and her mouth went dry as she looked over them. On top was a painting just above eye level of a scene in Canterlot. It showed a high viewpoint, looking down at an unsuspecting mare at an outdoor cafe as three changelings flew away from the viewer at her, vicious snarls visible from the sides of their faces.

On the bottom was the same scene, but from the mare’s point of view. She had turned to the approaching changelings, her forelegs covering the edges. Through her legs, a changeling was less than a pony’s length away, taking up three quarters of the canvas with its wide open jaw baring vicious fangs.

She should have known something like this could be on display, but she never would have expected it could be so realistic, consuming… enthralling. They looked almost exactly like the real thing, except with maybe thicker tongues and longer, more fierce-looking fangs.

“Rather unsettling aren’t they?”

Spindle gasped and nearly jumped, turning to find Silver Varnish observing his paintings with her.

“I-Is that what they’re really like?” She said, trying to get her heart under control. She couldn’t help but think if this really was what happened on the day of the wedding. Were ponies this terrified? Did her queen’s army really charge at ponies like this? Did they kill anypony?

“I can’t say for certain, as I wasn’t there. Though I gathered every visual and written representation from the papers I could. I brought these two in only early this morning. Tell me, how did they make you feel?”

“Honestly, terrified,” Violet said with more sincerity than she’d like, though she felt like she’d calmed down enough to resume her act. “It feels so realistic and to see it coming directly at me, it’s quite alarming. The way you use the top painting to prepare you for the bottom painting sets the tone very well and the ferocity of the changeling on the bottom is stunning.”

“I’m glad they were able to evoke the emotions I intended. When I saw them in the papers two days ago, I was drawn into a fit of inspiration. I painted long into the night, even with the show the next morning.”

“It seemed to be worth it, if you ask me.”

“Mmm. Though despite my depictions of them, I have to wonder,” he said wistfully, “these creatures, changelings, they were unknown to us until three days ago. Where did they come from and how long have they been hiding? Are they really the predatory species the papers have made them out to be? How many more are there living amongst us in anonymity? So many questions and yet I feel we will never have our answers.”

“I… can’t really say.” Violet said, slow and quiet. “I hadn’t thought about it until you brought it up. If they were willing to perform an outright siege against Canterlot, there’s no way they can’t be at least somewhat evil.” She didn’t really believe that, but figured plenty of ponies did.

“Perhaps you’re right.” He turned to face her. “Though we ponies have done some rather unsavory things in our past. In any case, though you aren’t the first to have such a strong reaction to my paintings, you’re certainly one of the few. Do you mind if I ask your name?”

“Erm, no, of course not.” She turned to face him as well. “My name’s Violet Mural.” Spindle wasn’t quite sure at this point whether she wanted to continue this charade. He was obviously interested in changelings and while that could prove to be difficult later on, it wasn’t like other ponies couldn’t be suspicious of her either.

“So tell me, Miss Mural,” he peered at her cutie mark, “what do you find most interesting about art?”

“Oh!” This really was progressing well. It did help that stallions were often easier to romance, from a mare’s perspective. Though this meant story time and she’d only been half thinking about Violet’s backstory. Time to make something up. “Well, when I was a filly, I’d been far more interested in fashion design, but after a dozen near-disasters, I’d decided it simply wasn’t for me. It wasn’t until months after my parents gifted me a foal’s painting set that I realized my creative energies had been misplaced. Though it certainly wasn’t easy, I just loved making my creations come to life. In fact…”

“...And the viewpoint on this piece was one of the hardest to get right. Would you believe me if I told you I have three versions at home that simply didn’t come out right?”

Violet giggled. “I can only imagine! I feel like three quarters of an artist’s life is feeling unsatisfied with your work and redoing it.”

“Quite right, that!” Silver Varnish looked, up and past Violet. “Oh goodness. I can’t believe we’ve been chatting for over an hour already.”

Violet followed his gaze back behind her, seeing a large clock on the rear wall. It indeed was almost half past one in the afternoon.

“I’m terribly sorry, Miss Mural, but I am here for a reason. Regardless of how entertaining it’s been, I should probably focus on my work.”

“Of course! Though, again please, call me Violet,” she said for the second time in their conversation. She debated not pushing the budding relationship any further at this time, but decided she might not get another opportunity to meet him if she didn’t. “And pardon me for asking, but would you perhaps be interested in grabbing a bite to eat at some point?”

“Hmm.” He tapped his chin, looking up and off into the distance. “Well, I suppose since I don’t usually schedule lunches for art show days…” he put his hoof down and looked at her, smiling, “what would you think about dinner tonight?”

Oh. That was fast. Fast enough to be almost suspicious. Though she felt nothing but excitement from him, so it wasn’t impossible for him to be biting at the first mare he’d clicked with in some time. At least she hoped that’s what it was.

“That sounds wonderful! Do you have any suggestions on location?”

“Actually, I do. There’s this place just a little ways north of downtown called La Casa Spaghetti. Wonderful place and I’ve rather been craving some good Neightallian food. How does meeting there at seven sound?”

“That’s perfect!”

“Then I shall see you there.”

“Of course. I’m looking forward to it.” She smiled and waved a hoof, then put it down and moved around him. As she stepped away, she felt his gaze on her and was delighted to feel a short bit of carnal desire from him. He really was interested!

“Oh and Miss—I mean Violet,” he called right as she stepped past his last painting.

She turned back, and tilted her head. “Yes?”

“Tonight, it’ll be my treat.”

Her eyes widened slightly, though she kept them from fully expressing her surprise and excitement. She held a hoof over her mouth and giggled. “Oh, my. Are you sure, Mr. Varnish?”

“Absolutely.” Had she been a pony, she was certain his smile would have melted her.

“Then I’ll be looking forward to it even more.”

“Come on, honey! Last one home does cleaning for a week!”

Fine Roast panted down the dark street, trying with all his might to keep up with Sweet Leaf. Had he the breath to spare, he would have huffed in frustration. No matter how hard he tried, he could not close the gap between them. He grimaced as not only was she keeping ahead of him, she showed no signs of strain at all.

“Sweet,” he managed between breaths, “come… on. This isn’t… fair.”

“Fair?” Sweet Leaf threw her head back and laughed. “It’s a race!”

“Yes, but—” he grit his teeth and glared as she ignored him and ran faster.

Roast chased after her as she turned a wide corner. Around the bend, he was relieved to see their lone cafe straight ahead. He might not be able to get out of a week of cleaning, but at least the race would be over.

Even in the long stretch to the cafe’s front door, Roast didn’t gain a single step on her. Finally, several paces ahead of him, she passed the little decorative fencing around their outdoor seating. He pushed himself harder for the last few strides and passed onto their property, coming to a dead stop a few steps beyond the fence. He hung his head low, gasping and panting as he tried to catch his breath.

“Hey, Roast!” a familiar deep voice greeted to his left.

“Hi, Angle.” Roast looked up and waved at his friend sitting at a parasol table.

“You and Sweet Leaf havin’ a good time?”

Roast huffed. He didn’t want to make Sweet’s actions seem strange and he certainly didn’t want to run the risk of the burly stallion making good on his threat of throttling changelings. “Yeah, I guess. I gotta get inside, though.”

“Yeah, sure. You two should come by sometime. Maybe we could figure out what’s goin’ on with the both o’ you.”

“Maybe.”

Roast walked ahead and raised an eyebrow at his wife, the door propped open by her hoof.

“After you, mister Clean.” She smirked at him, bowing and gesturing exaggeratedly into the cafe.
He almost said something, but didn’t want Angle to overhear. Instead, he bit his tongue and walked into the unlit room. Sweet Leaf quickly followed and he felt her brush his tail against him as she passed.

“So, wanna go have some fun?” Her voice dripped with allure as she brushed her tail across his face.

“Sweet, I thought we were going to talk?”

“Sure, but later. I’m hungry now, so let’s go upstairs.” Tail swaying back and forth, she disappeared into the kitchen.

Roast followed, but didn’t understand. They needed to work this out and he had to fix whatever it was he screwed up.

“Honey, please!” Roast started up the stairs.

“Come on, sweet cheeks. I’m waiting,” she called in that same irritating, sultry voice.

He walked into the bedroom and locked up. In the middle of the floor, on top of a dark green cocoon, Firefly laid, undisguised.

“H-honey?” Roast stammered. “What’s going on?”

“Oh, sweetie. It’s just time.” Firefly gave him a pitiful gaze.

“W-what about working through our problems? We-we were gonna talk and figure things out and… and…”

“The hive said you need to go, so you need to go.” She shrugged and smiled sympathetically. “But don’t worry, my little Roast, I’ve got some nice changelings from the hive to help me keep our cafe running.”

“She sure does!”

Roast turned and gaped at another Fine Roast coming in through the bedroom door.

“So, come on, my love,” Firefly said, “get in.”

He turned back to her and watched in horror as she tore open the side, a sea of translucent green goo pouring out.

“But, Firefly, I… I don’t want to,” Roast pleaded into her eyes.

“Sweetheart,” Firefly hopped off the squishy mass, “this is what’s best for you.”

His double’s hoof came resting on Roast’s back. “She’s right. You’ll like it back at the hive. There’s lots of other ponies to keep you company.”

Tears filled Roast’s eyes as he gazed back and forth between Firefly and his doppelganger. He focused back on his wife’s solid, blue eyes. “B-but I want to stay here, with you! We can still work through this! It can, we can…”

“I’m sorry, Roast.” Firefly came to his side and put her arm around his neck, gently nudging him forward. “It’ll be okay. I promise.”

They stepped up to the cocoon and Roast gazed down into the thick goo. The hoof on his neck urged him forward and he stepped one hoof, then another into the warm ooze. A tap at his hind legs had him set both into the small chamber. Pressure on his back and he laid down, wetting his shoulders.

He looked back at his wife, tears still clouding his eyes.

“Will—will I ever see you again?”

She simply smiled at him one last time and closed the membranous cocoon. Immediately, more fluid filled the space and he began to panic.

“Firefly, please!” He pressed his hooves against the immovable green wall, looking at her in shock as she deeply kissed the other Roast. “Firefly! Fi—lhbblb!”

The last of the air cut off and his lungs began to burn. He could only watch through tinted vision as Firefly and the new Roast walked out of the room, not once looking back.

Roast’s eyes snapped open, gasping as he lifted his head, eyes shifting around frantically. He saw the back of Sweet Leaf’s head and felt her warmth. Realizing he was in bed, he laid back on the pillow, slowly and shakily exhaling. He closed his eyes and tried to focus on breathing, willing away the nightmare. There was no cocoon, nor a replacement or sea of changeling sludge.

Trying to focus on nothing, he gently wrapped his foreleg around his wife and shifted in closer, taking in the scent that belonged only to his love.

That wasn’t Firefly. She loves you. She is trying to work things out and wouldn’t put you into a cocoon.

He was certain that was the truth, but…

What if the hive did tell her he had to go? Would she give in? What—what else could she do? We can’t run away or hide. We have nowhere to go. Roast squeezed his eyes tight, but quickly relaxed as he realized the same panic beginning to engulf him. No. Calm. Shhh. Calm down, Roast. It’s okay.

He kept his breathing even, cutting it off before it could escalate out of control. There simply was no other option than trusting in his wife. He had to believe she would have a plan. After all, she nearly ran away before he convinced her to stay. She had to have had an idea of where to go, right? But, would she even run?

Cutting himself off again before his thoughts circled, he leaned up and looked over at the clock on Sweet Leaf’s nightstand.

Four twenty-six. He sighed, closing his heavy eyes and lying back down. No point trying to get back to sleep for less than half an hour.

Even so, Roast doubted he’d be able to get back to sleep. Not after that… dream. No matter how much his eyelids told him to stay in bed, trying to nab a few extra minutes would be a waste of time and energy.

Sighing tiredly again, he turned over and sat up, slipping his hind legs off the bed. Might as well start the day if staying in bed would be counterproductive. Switching his four-fifty alarm off, he softly stepped out on all fours and quietly walked around the bed to Sweet Leaf’s clock. Squinting and fumbling in the dark for a moment, he finally found and hit the switch to turn on her five o’ clock alarm. He looked at her barely-illuminated sleeping face and gave an uncertain, half smile.

Continuing on, he tiphoofed out of the bedroom and turned around. Slowly closing the door, he took one last look at the form of his wife before the door silently tapped shut. Turning and walking through the hall to the kitchen, he hoped she was having a more restful slumber than he had.

Roast flicked on the kitchen light and headed for the espresso machine. Rarely did he drink coffee in the morning, but he knew today would need it. Pulling out and prepping the machine’s portafilter, he popped open a jar of premium Jamarecan coffee he’d ground a couple days ago. As he scooped and tamped it into the basket, he lamented as espresso should be made with fresh grounds, but shrugged as he pushed the portafilter back into place. Grinding would be too loud and he wanted to let Sweet Leaf sleep for as long as she could.

He filled the machine with enough water for two drinks and placed an espresso cup under the spout. Turning on the machine, he stared with half lidded eyes as it began its low hiss, heating up water. As it began pumping espresso into the cup, he began counting, keeping track of the brew’s darkness.

...Twenty-three, twenty-four, twenty-five, and done.

Shutting the valve off, he let the excess water drip out of the drain and grabbed his double espresso, savoring the smell directly from the small cup. He blew on the hot liquid for a short moment, then downed the entire shot, humming at the deep flavor of the shot.

Grabbing the portafilter again, he cleaned it and the cup out. Tamping more grounds into the portafilter, he reassembled and prepped the espresso machine. As he was setting a larger cup under the spout for Sweet Leaf’s morning Equestriano, he paused for a moment, furrowing his brow.

I wonder… Did Firefly get addicted to coffee before or after she met me? he chuckled at the sudden thought, imagining hyped up changelings bouncing off walls back in her hive.

Puffing in amusement, his smile slowly faded as the dream invaded his imagination. Shaking his head of the thought before his imagination could add him in a cocoon, he looked around the kitchen for something to do. Spotting the fridge, he considered grilling up an egg, but he wasn’t quite hungry yet. The paper wouldn’t be arriving for probably another thirty minutes, so that was out too.

Pursing his lips, he let out a long grunt. Still with over fifteen minutes to go before he normally got up and with nothing else to do, he figured he might as well get an early start on the day. Plus, it meant he could focus on something other than his dream and lack of sleep.

He walked back through the hallway and down the stairwell into the cafe’s kitchen. He turned on the lights and washed then dried his hooves. Pulling out the bagel former, he began gathering all the different doughs he’d pre-made a couple nights ago while Sweet was away.

“Honey? How long have you been up?”

The familiar, groggy voice of his wife broke his focus on the bagel machine. He looked behind him and saw the bed-headed form of his wife.

“Good morning,” he said, his own voice far more awake than hers. “I woke up a little before my alarm and decided to get started on baking.”

“Roast,” she took a deep, tired breath. “It’s five thirty. Why’d you turn off my alarm?”

“I didn’t turn it off, I turned it… oh.” Normally she let his alarm wake her up. He gave her a sheepish smile. “Sorry, did you set your alarm?”

“Yes. I wanted to make sure I had enough alarms in case I, well, didn’t sleep well.” She slowly blinked her tired eyes and huffed. “Sorry. Guess I should have told you.”

“No, it’s fine. I should have made sure I was switching it on, not off.”

“Communication’s hard, huh?” She chuckled sleepily. “I’m gonna go get some coffee and make breakfast. Why don’t you go take a shower?”

“Yeah, okay.” He faced back towards the bagel machine, turned it off, then set the remaining unformed dough on the counter. By the time he turned back around, Sweet Leaf was already near the top of the stairs. He started to follow, but something caught his attention out of the corner of his eye, near the kitchen entrance. Turning his head, he saw the lost and found tray had a new member.

Walking over to examine it, he raised an eyebrow at the thing. The Equestrian Enquirer. He almost rolled his eyes at the notorious gossip magazine, but halfway down the cover caught his gaze.

“Really?” he murmured. He knew he shouldn’t, but it would be helpful to know what inane stories his customers would be talking about.

Flimsy justification in hoof, he sighed with resignation and pulled it out of the tray, flipping to page seven.

Half of the first page was a drawing of a normal house’s kitchen with an anything-but-normal changeling facing the viewer. It had shining red eyes, wide open mouth, snake-like tongue, and green venom dripping from its fangs. He pursed his lips at the drawing. No doubt such a start to the article boded well for Roast’s sanity. Deciding he’d mentally criticized it enough, he began reading.

“What ponies here at EE have dubbed The Invasion of Year 1002, came as a shock to us all. The idea that Princess Celestia would let such a disastrous event fall upon her ponies, our beloved citizens, is nothing short of a national tragedy. We wanted to find out the truth behind this and what we discovered shocked us to our cores.”

Roast squinted at the article. Accusing Princess Celestia was a bold move, and did they leave Princess Luna out on purpose?

Regardless of the integrity of the writers, he continued.

“We were able to land us an interview with political-and-interspecies relations expert, Critical Ideology. When we contacted him, he was more than willing to give us the real details of what happened only a few days ago.

“Equestrian Enquirer: Critical, thank you for taking time to meet with us.

“Critical Ideology: Glad to be here.

“EE: The Equestrian citizens and likely the entire world are wondering what happened. You were there the day of The Invasion, would you be able to shine some light upon what led to such a catastrophe?

“CI: Absolutely. You see, immediately after the creatures were flung from Canterlot and once I’d taken a day to recover, I began digging. Though I only study social and political relations between species, thanks to my specialties, the crown has granted me privileges similar to that of an ambassador. During my research at the Canterlot Castle library, I uncovered a startling fact. The librarian informed me that at least one of the princesses not only had prior knowledge of these changelings, but have been working with them for the last several decades.

“EE: Oh my. That is quite the revelation. So you’re saying the princesses have been in cahoots with these beasts?

“CI: Not only in cahoots with, but in direct control of. You see, these changelings are quite aptly named. They can change into anything and everything. That stray cat you see on the street? Could be a changeling. A bird looking over your picnic? More like a changeling.

“CI: What this revealed to me was that this wedding was planned. You see, it’s my theory that the princess has been using changelings to covertly spy on the Equestrian population. But unrest formed amongst the creatures. Princess Celestia knew about this and staged a faux invasion. Now that they’ve been made our public enemies, the enslaved changelings will have no choice but to heed the fickle whims of the Equestrian crown.

“EE: That is some absolutely stunning—”

Roast slammed the magazine shut, glaring at the offending excuse for journalism. The fact that they could even think about accusing one of Equestria’s diarchy of planning the Canterlot Invasion was… unthinkable! On top of that, this “Critical Ideology,” had the gall to theorize that all changelings, which included Firefly, were nothing more than slaves.

Unless… Roast considered for a moment, but quickly realized how idiotic that was. No. Sweet—Firefly wouldn’t lie to me about that. It didn’t even make any sense. Firefly, Bobby Pin, er, Spindle, and all the other changelings in Hoofington being spies for the princess? That’s ridiculous. Not possible.

To prove his point, he grabbed the magazine and stepped away from the counter. Normally, such things would sit in wait for their owners to retrieve them, but what if someone happened to “accidentally reappropriate” it? As one of the two employees and owners of a coffee shop, it wasn’t reasonable to expect he could keep track of every valuable a customer may have left behind. Besides, who came looking for a lost magazine anyway?

Discretely peering left then right even though there was nopony else around, he casually and innocently walked over to the trash and dropped the magazine inside.

“Sorry about that bud.” Roast patted the edge of the can. “Must’ve tasted terrible.”

He snorted, hoping to never see that article again.

Realizing he still had a shower to take, he turned and headed up the stairs. At the top, he turned left into their bedroom and spotted the ruffled bedding. He paused for just a moment, wondering if Sweet Leaf’s side of the bed was still warm. Tearing his eyes from the sheets, he continued right past the bed and into the bathroom and turning on the shower’s water. As he tested the water, the desire flashed through him to go burrow into the bed, seeking the last bit of his wife’s lingering scent.

But, of course, Roast thought and grunted, if I did that, I probably wouldn’t come back out. Probably.

Stepping into the water, he relaxed under the warm spray and began using his shower time as he normally did. That is for thinking while he cleaned. And relaxing while soaking in the warmth, of course. He squirted a dollop of shampoo into his hoof and began massaging it into his mane and tail.

He sighed as he was not looking forward to the day. Not only were he and Firefly supposed to have their talk tonight, the customers were probably going to be going on and on about changelings, changelings, changelings, just like the previous four days. Roast guessed an averted national takeover sparked quite the interest as the papers were still featuring changeling stories.

Another sigh escaped his nostrils. He rinsed his mane and wished the day would be over already so he could get some real sleep. He paused for a second as he was reminded of what Sweet Leaf said. He thought back to her words.

In case she didn’t sleep well? Why wouldn’t she sleep well? She said she figured things out which means she knows what the problem was. Or is? Which if she knows what it is and she’s still worried, then it’s got to be something big enough for her to worry about.

This all started right around the time Wavy came and accused her of being a changeling. Sweet seemed to have placated him pretty well, so that couldn’t be...

Roast’s eyes widened. What if that’s what her meeting was about? Was there a contingency that if they were ever accused, they’d have to leave? What if the other changelings called a… a cleanup crew instead and she can’t do anything about it?

He shook his head clear of those thoughts. No, stop. You’re working yourself up again. You don’t know what’s going on and Silver Trinket didn’t know what she was talking about. Trust. Trust your wife. Trust that she is being honest and wouldn’t go against what she said.

It felt like inner conflict was engulfing him. He did trust her, or so he forced himself to believe. Roast wished they could have their talk right now, but at the same time he dreaded it. He didn’t know what to think or do and it made him so… anxious! What was she going to do if—

STOP! Stop coming up with what ifs! He huffed angrily at himself. If all you’re going to do is mentally chase your tail, then no long shower for you today.

He quickly shampooed and rinsed his tail and coat, refusing to think about his wife or their situation or anything.

As he was about to turn off the water, he hesitated for a moment and glared up at the showerhead. Maybe he should turn the water cold. Maybe that would shock those stupid thoughts out of him.

He snorted. No, that’s silly, Roast. Just… go dry off. Also, stop talking to yourself.

Doing as he’d told himself, he turned off the shower. Grabbing a towel, he began soaking up most of the wetness. After he was merely damp, he opened the curtain and stepped out, walking to the sink. Grabbing his and Sweet Leaf’s hair drier, he turned it on and began running the hot air over himself.

Satisfied that he was almost completely dry, he opened the bathroom door. Immediately, the smell of haybacon and coffee hit him. Walking to the kitchen, he saw Sweet Leaf setting out plates and utensils on the table.

“Sweet, you didn’t have to do this.”

His wife turned around and smiled at him. “I know, but it’s been a while since I made breakfast and since you did it last week, I figured we could use a better breakfast than a slice of toast and some oatmeal.”

“Well, thank you, hun.” Roast returned her smile.

“Take a seat, the eggs are almost done,” she said, returning to the stove.

Roast tried to keep up his smile and positive feelings, but he couldn’t help the low boiling anxiety. Only five days ago his life seemed so normal. The most he had to deal with before was bad coffee salesponies and the occasional creep making a pass at his wife. Now, well, he didn’t even know what it was he had to deal with.

He merely hoped everything would turn out okay in the end.

“That’ll be nine bits, please.”

The mare fished the requested amount from her saddlebag, placing it on the counter.

Roast gathered the bits and dropped them into the register. “Thank you, ma’am. When your order is ready, we’ll call your name at the serving counter to your right.”

She nodded and left to find somewhere to sit. A mare and her colt stepped up to take her place.

“We’ll be right with you to take your order.” Picking up the two empty latte cups, he turned around and walked to the other counter, placing the cups on the left side.

“Another two for you, Sweet.”

“Okay, thank you. And Roast?”

Roast had almost turned back to the register. “Yes?”

“I love you.”

He tried to return her warm smile the best he could, but it felt hardly good enough. “I love you too, Sweet.”

As he walked back the few steps to the register, Roast wished he could have a few moments break. Already he felt exhausted and the cafe had only been open an hour and a half. He was starting to regret offering to swap positions with Sweet for the day. He was thinking taking over caring for customers would let her sort out anything she might have needed to before their talk that night.

But regardless of his own feelings or doubts or insecurities, she was still his wife and his love. She deserved the best he could give.

“Good morning, ma’am. What can I get for you?”

“Hi. My son would like an iced…”

The cafe door’s bells jingled and Roast’s eyes flicked over. In stepped three white furred guardsponies in full, brown city armor and immediately the earth pony in front locked eyes with Roast.

His heart nearly froze as they walked not to the line, but to the end of the counter.

“…take a caramel latte with—”

“I apologize, ma’am,” Roast interrupted, eyes flicking back to the guards waiting off to the side. “It looks like the city guard needs something.”

The mother looked over and gasped. “Oh, my. Of course.”

Roast turned and walked towards the armor ponies. He felt his mouth dry as he saw the sheathed swords at their sides.

“Good morning, sirs, ma’am,” Roast greeted, nodding to the two stallions and mare. “Is there something I can help you with?”

“Are you Fine Roast?” The lead guard said gruffly.

Roast’s eye flicked to the other unicorn guards at his side and his breath nearly caught in his throat as he saw the hoofcuffs, and wing cages on their utility belts.

“Y-yes,” he silently cursed his stutter, “that’s me.”

“My name is Lieutenant Steel. We’re going to need to speak with you and your wife.” He peered behind Roast.

“Sure, just a moment, let me get—”

“Honey?” Sweet Leaf calmly stepped up to his side. “Is there something wrong?”

Roast could only thank the stars that she was collected, unlike him. “The, um, they—”

“We need to speak with you and your husband, ma’am.”

“Certainly,” she said with a smile while Roast felt like the world was collapsing around him. “Would you mind if we took this into the back?”

“That’s fine. Lead the way.”

Sweet Leaf stepped off, and Roast felt her tail against his side. Roast dumbly followed her through the archway to the kitchen. Okay. Okay. Calm. Stay calm. Or get calm. Let her handle this for right now, at least until you can talk without fumbling all over.

Once they’d all entered, Sweet turned around and Roast took after her example.

“Now, what can we help you with?” Sweet Leaf asked, still as infuriatingly composed as ever.

“I’m afraid we’re going to have to ask the two of you to come with us to the guard station,” Lieutenant Steel explained, reaching back into a pouch, retrieving a folded sheet of paper, unfolding and presenting it to Sweet Leaf. “Here is a warrant signed by the Captain of the Hoofington Guard and the mayor.”

She reached with a wing and took it, reading it over.

“A source we’ve legitimized,” Lieutenant Steel continued, “made claims against you for the changeling impersonation of Sweet Leaf. We would like to inform you that we have guards at all exits and we would appreciate your cooperation.”

“I… see.” Sweet Leaf exhaled, giving the warrant back to him. “I really wish he’d left it alone. This is going to end up being a lot of needless trouble for all of us.”

“Will you come with us or—”

“Yes,” Sweet Leaf cut him off. “I have no problem coming with you, but I would like to make a couple requests first.”

Steel narrowed his eyes at her. “What are they?"

“I’m assuming you have a carriage you’ll be taking me in.”

“That’s correct.”

Sweet Leaf nodded. “Then I’d like to ask that you bring it around to the rear door.” She nodded her head behind her, at the alleyway door. “I would prefer not to be paraded around in hoofcuffs in front of my customers.”

“I see no reason why we can’t do that.” He turned to the stallion at his side. “Go tell the sergeant to bring one of the carriages around back.”

“Yes, sir.” The stallion nodded and left.

Steel turned back to Sweet Leaf. “What was the other request?”

“We’re the only two employees of this cafe. Would you let us close up before we go with you?”

His gaze remained narrowed at her for a long moment. “I’m afraid not. My orders are to bring you to the guard station with as little delay as possible.”

“Well, how about Fine Roast staying behind then?” Sweet Leaf raised a questioning hoof.

What?! No! Roast frantically thought. I want to go with you! Don’t make me—

“You need to bring me in as soon as possible,” she continued. “You could leave some guards behind and bring him along once he’s done. Only long enough to make sure the customers know what’s going on and so we can ensure the building doesn’t burn down.” Her eyes pointedly flicked over to the hot ovens.

Steel followed her gaze, then looked back at her and Roast. “Very well. I will allow him to close the shop and follow afterwards.”

“Then I have no problem leaving with you now.”

“H-hon, I want to come with you,” Roast said, finally finding his voice.

Sweet Leaf turned to him. “It’s fine, sweetie. This is just a big misunderstanding.”

She winked the eye opposite of the guards and he immediately realized his folly.

“I know you’re not, though! You’re Sweet Leaf, my wife! You can’t be…” he trailed off.

Sweet Leaf looked Roast directly in the eyes. “Honey, It’ll be okay. Let me handle this,” she emphasized softly. “After I leave, you help the guards with whatever they need.”

He looked back at her for a short moment before he understood. Let her handle it. She said that same thing with Wavy. I think it means… it means shut up.

“Okay,” he said quietly.

“Ma’am, we’re going to need to place these on you.” He unclipped a pair of hoofcuffs and his fellow unicorn guardspony reached back, unhooking wing cages from her belt.

“Of course. Go ahead.”

Roast could only stare blankly as she sat back and held out her forehooves, the stallion clamping cuffs around them. Then she stood straight and the unicorn mare hoof placed the cages around Sweet Leaf’s wings. She snapped them shut with a flick of her hoof, locking his love’s flight away. He was terrified this would be the last sight he’d have of her. Hooves bound, feathers bunched up in those damned cages. He couldn’t imagine a life without…

He watched through teary eyes as she turned back to him.

Sweet Leaf smiled, one of the most loving smiles he’d ever seen from her. “I’ll be waiting for you.”

That one sentence almost broke him as a tear slid down his cheek.

“I… okay. I’ll see you—” He choked on the last word and trembled.

They were taking her. He wanted to rush them, punch them, protect his wife, run away with her! But he knew. The only one that would suffer would be the love of his life.

He was completely and utterly helpless.

“Please come with us, ma’am.”

Roast felt another tear drip down his face as he watched the two guards lead her out the back door, a white painted, enclosed wood carriage already waiting outside. After speaking with another guard for a moment, the lieutenant came back in and shut the door, cutting off Roast’s final view of his wife climbing into the carriage.

Lieutenant Steel walked up to Roast and placed a hoof on his shoulder. “I’m very sorry you have to deal with this, sir. I promise you, we will do everything we can to find the truth and, if it comes to it, your wife.”

Roast could only stare at the stallion and nod. Be strong. Be strong for her. They might not find out. And… and right now she needs you to fight for her.

“Right.” Roast nodded again and wiped the tears from his eyes. “Right. I gotta close up shop.”

“Yes sir. Please do so.”

“Okay.” He took a deep breath, and held. Trust her. It’ll be okay.

He released the air and determinedly walked back out into the guest area, stopping at the edge of the counter.

“Excuse me everypony,” he loudly called out. Looking around the room, he watched as the conversations died down and all eyes turned towards him. “I apologize for the interruption to your morning. The guard has informed me and my wife that they need our help with an urgent matter and we will need to close the cafe. For those of you who have already paid, but not received your orders, please come up so I may refund you.”

He looked out at them for another second before turning and taking his post at the counter. Ponies began to file in and he no longer regretted swapping with Sweet Leaf. He would have gladly taken over her position until the end of time if only he could know that she’d be okay.

“That’s everything, sir,” Roast said once he’d turned off the ovens.

“Thank you, Mister Roast.” One of Lieutenant Steel’s guards nodded. “I’m really sorry this happened to your wife. Now, if you’d please come with me, the L.T. has a carriage ready to take you to the station.”

“Um, out of curiosity,” Roast began, “what is it I’m needed there for?”

“We need to question you,” Lieutenant Steel said, coming around the guest area into the kitchen. “So we can compare your answers to her knowledge of your and Sweet Leaf’s past.”

Roast’s eyes widened in surprise. “There isn’t a… a spell to tell if she’s a changeling?”

Lieutenant Steel chuckled mirthlessly and shook his head. “If there were such a thing, my job would be a hundred times easier.”

Roast fought to keep the relief and surprise out of his eyes. That changed everything. She might actually have a chance! If I could just do my part right, she could come home!

“Now, if you don’t mind,” Steel continued, “I’d like to get going so we can let my fellow guardsponies get on with their investigation.”

“Wait a second,” Roast stayed right where he was and glared at the guard. “You never said anything about investigating my cafe.”

“I… apologize,” Steel said hesitantly. “This is the first potential changeling arrest we’ve made. I honestly didn’t expect it to go so smoothly and I forgot to mention it to you or your, erm, Sweet Leaf. It’s in the warrant if you’d like to see it.”

“Yes, please.”

Lieutenant Steel retrieved the warrant again and gave it to him.

As Roast read it, he saw it did indeed state they were authorized to perform the arrest of Sweet Leaf and sweep the cafe for potential evidence. Reading further, it also said they were authorized to perform a medical examination of both him and Sweet Leaf. It still didn’t answer why they wanted to search the cafe, though.

“Alright,” Roast said, hoofing the warrant back. “What are you looking for?”

“We found—”

“Private!” the lieutenant quickly cut off the other guard, “I’m sorry, we can’t disclose that to you. Now, I would appreciate it if you’d follow me. My guards will lock the doors once they’ve finished with the investigation.”

With nothing else left he could think to say, Roast nodded and silently followed Steel out the back door. Waiting outside was a carriage that looked exactly the same as the one that took Sweet Leaf. Roast quickly squashed his hope that she’d be inside.

Steel came up to the side and opened the door, stepping aside and gesturing for Roast to climb in.

Roast entered and sat down, looking back as Steel began to close the door.

“Wait!” Roast exclaimed and the closing door paused followed by Steel peering inside.

“Yes?”

“Are you not coming?”

Steel shook his head. “I’m afraid not. I have to help lead the investigation. Your escorts will see you into the station.”

“I… Okay.”

The door closed fully this time and a moment later, Roast felt the carriage jerk forward and start moving.

His mind began racing. Okay. Answer questions. That's what they need from me.

Desperately, he tried to remember every detail about his and Sweet Leaf’s past. Would they ask her and then request he regurgitate the same event? Or maybe the other way around? What if he remembered something wrong? What if she didn’t recall the event at all? What if the times he chose weren’t important enough for her to remember?

Roast put his head in his hooves and groaned. This feels like a test. I hate tests. I can’t even look up the answers beforehoof.

Wait. He jerked his head up out of his hooves. This isn’t only about comparing memories. The other guard had mistakenly said they found something. What was it they found and where would they have found it?

Thinking back, Sweet Leaf had also said she wished “he” had left it alone. Who is this “he” pony? Or changeling?

A chill ran down his body and he froze. He had no idea if the city guards really were guards. His eyes snapped to the frosted windows on either side of the door.

I can’t even tell where they’re taking me! Sweet Leaf from his dream flashed into his mind. What if the dream was trying to tell me something?! I can leave still, Lieutenant Steel never locked the door. I could… but if I did…

I’ll be waiting for you.

Roast’s panic deflated as that wonderful, damned, love-filled smile entered his mind’s eye. He refused to believe the last thing she said to him was a lie. Even if these were changelings taking him away, he’d trust her.

She said she would be waiting and he would go to the ends of Equestria for her. She knew something he didn’t and, somehow, she knew it would end up okay. If it had to do with changelings, then she’d know what to do when they met again. But if it wasn’t…

Then he needed to be ready.

Now think. What do you know about Firefly? What could she have that they would be looking for? A cocoon, maybe? There’s not a lot of room for one of those in the building. Is there something smaller they could be looking for?

His eyebrows shot up. Crystals. They could be looking for crystals. At least they’re safe under—

Roast’s mouth dropped as surprise was replaced by dread. Oh no. Oh please, Celestia no. I never took Sweet’s crystals out of my desk. They don’t need a spell to tell she’s a changeling if they… if they have proof.

His eyes squeezed tight as bile crept into his throat. He tried to focus on anything but the day’s seemingly inevitable conclusion.

After a few moments, his nausea began to wane. Soon he was left staring at the floor, swaying with the carriage’s bumps and turns.

Maybe I’m wrong. They might not find them or maybe they’re not even looking for love crystals. There could be things other changelings left behind that Firefly didn’t. Even so, she had to have a plan for this.

If she didn’t… Roast didn’t want to even entertain the idea.

Roast was jerked out of his thoughts as the carriage quickly pulled to a stop. After a long moment of silence, the sound of muffled voices outside caught his attention as they grew louder near the door. A shadow passed by one of the right windows and the door clicked open, revealing a white guard in city armor.

“Mister Roast?” The unicorn asked, peering in at him.

“Yes?”

“Thank you for coming with us. If you could step out and follow me, I’ll show you inside.”

Roast nodded and climbed down the two steps, standing on the cobblestone road. He turned and watched as the guard closed the door behind him and loudly tapped the carriage twice.

“You all are good to go!” the guard called out and the ponies at the front drew the carriage away.

As the carriage moved out of the way, Roast saw the front of the large brick guard station. He remembered the place from the only time he had to report vandalism at the cafe a couple years ago.

Today was going to be a lot different from then.

“Please follow me, sir.”

Roast merely nodded again and walked behind the guard through the station’s wooden double doors. Inside was a reception window straight ahead and a couple rows of seating on either side of the room. Only a few ponies were waiting, one with a magazine in her hoof, another magicking a coffee cup to his mouth, but all seemed listless.

The guard led Roast to the door right of the window and levitated keys out of a pouch on his belt. Unlocking the door, he opened it and gestured for Roast to enter.

Passing in behind Roast, he locked the door and continued. As they passed through, the hallway littered with offices and a couple meeting rooms. At the far end of the building they reached a perpendicular hallway. A sign on the ceiling showed the barracks, armory, and carriage depot to the right and showed medical, investigations, and holding cells to the left. Turning towards the holding cells, they passed by more offices. Roast saw straight ahead was another waiting area, this one being an open alcove at the corner of the hallway with all the chairs facing him. As they entered the open space, he noticed the hall continued left, leading to even more offices.

He wondered, not so idly, how far down the holding cells were.

“Here you are, sir. Please feel free to have some coffee, tea, or water while you wait. Somepony will be out to see you shortly.”

“Thank you.” He watched the guard leave back the way he came then turned and stepped into the waiting room. Roast peering suspiciously at the refreshments table on which was a three-quarter filled carafe in the coffee maker. He rolled his eyes at the thing’s pitch black liquid. No doubt it had been over-brewed, sitting on the hotplate for who knew how long.

Passing by the unappealing table, he took a seat at the back wall, facing the way he came and immediately grunted uncomfortably. Shifting in place, he hoped he wouldn’t have to sit on the hard wooden chairs for long. Looking about, he saw he was the only pony sitting in the dozen-and-a-half-seat room.

A guard caught his attention as she stepped out of the hallway straight ahead and looked directly at him. “Fine Roast?”

That was quick. “Yes. That’s me.”

“If you could come with me for a moment, we’d like to ask you a few quick questions.”

Roast complied, getting out of his seat and walking over to the mare. She turned and he followed her down the hall that led back to the entrance. A few offices down, they entered a small, sparse room with a simple desk on the far side and a couple of chairs on the left wall.

Sitting at the desk was another guard, a unicorn this time.

“Hello, Mister Roast,” he said, getting up from his chair and offering a hoof bump. “I’m Lieutenant Haze, one of the resident medics here.”

“Hello.” Roast bumped his hoof.

“Please, take a seat.” Lieutenant Haze gestured to the chairs on the left.

He walked over to the chairs and turned to take a seat. As he sat down, the guard that brought him backed out into the hallway and closed the door. Roast looked expectantly at the Lieutenant.

Lieutenant Haze sat down as well. “I’d like to ask a couple questions about how you’ve been feeling the past short while, if you don’t mind.”

“Sure, go ahead.” Roast nodded and thought back to the warrant. He knew it didn’t really matter if he minded or not.

“Thanks.” Haze grabbed a clipboard and pen off his desk. “So, over the last couple months, have you been experiencing any odd mental stress or strain?”

Roast hummed as he thought for a moment. He was certain this had to do with their expectation of him living with a changeling. Regardless, he was thankful he didn’t have to lie about this one. “Other than the normal stress of running a cafe, no.”

The lieutenant wrote on the clipboard then looked back up at Roast. “How about any unexpected headaches, nausea, dizziness, or lightheadedness?”

He shook his head. “No, nothing like that.”

“Perfect.” He wrote more down, then set the clipboard and pen down. He grabbed some latex hoof coverings out of a box on his desk and put them on his forehooves before scooting his chair closer to Roast. “Now, according to the warrant, we’ll need to perform a quick physical examination.”

“Alright,” Roast conceded and let the medic do his work. It ended up being very similar to an annual physical he got at his doctor.

After a few moments, Lieutenant Haze scooted back and pulled the coverings off his hooves, grabbing the clipboard and pen and writing down notes once more. “Okay, everything looks fine to me! And that’s it for my part. I’ll need to call in somepony else for the next bit. If you’ll give me one moment.” He got up and opened the door, stepping out into the hallway. Not but a few seconds later, he reentered with a female guard, closed the door, and sat back down.

“Hi, Mister Roast,” the new guard greeted. “My name’s Dawn Fire. I’m going to be doing an examination of any magical artefacts, enchantments, or spells you have on your body. Do you have anything on you that would be sensitive to a magical probing?”

“No,” Roast shook his head, now thoroughly confused with the direction of the examination. “I don’t have anything like that on me.”

“Excellent. You may feel a slight tingling sensation.”

Her horn lit and Roast's breath caught in his chest. As she said, the tingling covered his entire body and his vision became tinted orange, matching the hue of aura surrounding her horn. After a long moment, the tingling stopped, then began again, this time focused on his head. Finally, the sensation stopped and Dawn Fire regarded the medic.

“Okay, everything looks good. I sensed no odd magicks in or on his body.”

“Can I ask what you were looking for?” Roast tentatively spoke up.

Dawn turned back to him. “Of course. We received a report this morning from the Canterlot Guard. In it was a magical after-analysis of the mind control spell used on the newly wed prince. I’m happy to tell you I detected no such magic within you.”

“Huh, okay,” Roast managed. It was good to know his mind was of his own accord, though he was glad his momentary doubt of Firefly was thoroughly misplaced, at least in that aspect.

“And that’s all we needed you for.” Lieutenant Haze said, standing up. “Please come with me back to the waiting room.”

Roast got up as Dawn Fire opened the door and left the room. He followed as the lieutenant walked out, turning the opposite direction as his fellow guard. Ahead was the little waiting alcove with the unscrupulously brewed coffee.

“Thank you for your cooperation, once again, Mister Roast.” Haze pointed a hoof into the waiting room. “Please take a seat. It may be awhile before the investigator is ready to take you back.”

“Alright.” Roast turned into the waiting room and took the same hard, uncomfortable, wooden seat as before. He let out a long sigh, leaning his head back against the wall. He wished this would be over with already. All he wanted to do was go home and curl up in bed with his wife. With luck, maybe I’ll be able to tonight.

Looking around once again he saw there was now a single mare silently sitting on the opposite side of the room, two rows ahead of him. Other than her no other ponies present except the occasional guard walking by.

He supposed it was a good thing there was nopony else besides him there. It meant he could focus on trying to remember every significant event he could since he and Firefly met.

So, for our third date, I got Sweet spa vouchers. Next date she got me some— A yawn interrupted him and he repeatedly blinked his suddenly very heavy eyes.

Oh, wow. What happened? He was doing fine in the carriage and the medic’s office, but now the fatigue from that morning hit him and he fought to keep his eyes open. Roast shook his head. Come on, Sweet needs you. You’ve had far more sleepless nights and gotten through an entire day alone at the cafe. You can tough it out. Now come on, think.

He closed his eyes tight and focused. Okay. Right. For our third date I got her vouchers and for the fourth she got me, she got…

“...oast. Mister Roast?”

Fine Roast snorted and jerked upright as he felt something touch his foreleg. He blearily blinked and looked to his right at the stallion guard who woke him.

“Uh, hi,” Roast enunciated as clearly as his sleep-addled mind would let him.

“I apologize for the long wait. We’re ready to talk with you.”

“Oh, a-alright.” Roast shook his head, trying to remember what he was even here for. “How long have I... been here?”

“I sent you off from the cafe, oh,” the guard looked up at the clock on the waiting room’s back wall, “right about two and a half hours ago.”

Sent me off. But Lieutenant Steel sent me… Roast’s eyes snapped open fully. Sweet Leaf!

Roast jumped out of his chair. “Lieutenant Steel?”

The guard nodded. “That’s me.”

“Right. Did she, uh, did I miss anything important?” he asked, still getting his mental faculties back up and running.

Steel held up his hoof. “Woah, settle down, Mister Roast. Nothing has happened other than the investigation at your cafe. We’re still holding Sweet Leaf in a cell, awaiting interrogation. Do you need a few minutes before we head back?”

“No.” Roast shook his head. “I’m ready. I just didn’t get a lot of sleep last night.”

“Very well, then. Please come with me.” Steel walked back out to the hallway leading to the holding cells and Roast followed.

Full awareness swiftly came back to Roast as he followed the lieutenant, passing by a few doors before they stopped at a closed office door. Roast peered at the nameplate at the wall next to the door, reading “Lieutenant Sylvan Shade.”

Steel rapped on the door two times and opened it. Stepping into the room, he held the door open and gestured for Roast to enter.

As he walked inside, he was surprised to see not a guard in armor facing him behind the small office’s L-shaped desk, but a light brown pegasus mare in a dark grey suit and tie, her muted blue mane put up into a neat bun.

“Roast,” Steel began, “I’d like you to meet Refined Aura. She’s one of our Hoofington Guard detectives and will be performing the interrogation.”

Refined Aura stood from her chair, extending her wing across the desk and giving Roast a friendly smile. “It’s wonderful to meet you, Mister Roast.”

Roast hesitated for a moment and kept his eyebrow in check and unraised. The entire situation was throwing him off. Maintaining politeness, he stepped forward and reached out a hoof, touching the inside of her wing. She wrapped her feathers around his hoof and he was silently relieved that he’d read the situation right. It was an interesting feeling as her soft primaries took a surprisingly strong grip and shook his hoof. Roast wasn’t sure what to think as it was quite an unusual gesture for a pegasus to give a non-pegasus.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you too, Miss Aura.”

She drew her wing back to her side. “Please, call me Aura.”

“You can rest easy, Mister Roast,” Steel reassured. “Aura here is one of the best detectives Hoofington has. As we’re dealing with potentially the first changeling investigations, we pulled in the best we have.”

“I don’t know if I’d go that far,” Aura said, then pointed a wing at the two seats across from her desk. “Though, please, do take a seat.”

Roast walked over and sat down on the far seat as Steel closed the office door. As he settled in, anxiety began filling him. Things seemed to be stacking against them if the guard brought in “the best.” But… something was off about this mare.

“So, uh,” Roast began, “I saw that this office belonged to a Lieutenant Shade. I’m assuming that’s not you, Aura?”

“Oh, not at all,” she said, using her wings to shuffle papers in front of her. “I couldn’t be a guard. I’m merely borrowing this desk because Shade is off today and they wouldn’t let me conduct this on the couches in the breakroom.” She began using her wings to rearrange papers into neat piles along the right side of the desk.

Steel sighed. “Miss Aura, please don’t—”

“In fact, I don’t even have an office.” She paused all motions and looked off to her left, away from Roast. “Well, not an office to myself, that is. I share it with two guards and one other detective.”

“I… see,” Roast managed.

“Anyway!” She spun around, facing Roast and Steel. “We’re here to do an interview with you, not talk about my work situation.”

“That’s right,” Steel said. “We’re going to be asking you some questions about your background with Sweet Leaf, like I said back in the cafe. Afterwards, Miss Aura will use that information during her interrogation of Sweet Leaf. If the Sweet Leaf currently sitting in our holding cell really is a changeling, there should be some glaring gaps between your and its memories. Aura will be asking most of the questions here, whereas I’m here as an arbitrator and the investigation’s oversight officer. Though, before we get started, do you have any questions?”

“Uhh, yeah, a couple actually.” Roast shifted in his seat, which happened to be padded and much more comfortable than the wooden waiting room chairs. “Did your team find anything in the cafe?”

“I’m—” Steel started, glancing at Aura who grabbed a trophy off the shelf in her wings and was turning it all around. He cleared his throat. “I’m sorry, I’m not at liberty to say at this time.”

“Alright.” He figured that would be the case, but it didn’t hurt to ask. “My other question is, what if I misremember something, but Sweet Leaf, assuming she is Sweet Leaf, remembers it accurately? I mean, will that affect how you handle her?”

“Memories are a funny thing, Mister Roast,” Aura piped in, setting the trophy back on the shelf, aligning it with the edge. She faced him, but didn’t quite look him in the eyes.

Aura picked up a pen and began twirling and flipping it between her primaries. “They can be all sorts of weird. Sometimes, the color or feel of something gets stored in our minds wrong. Ponies even have different variations on how they store memories.”

Do I… have something on my nose? He self-consciously glanced at Steel, but the lieutenant was paying attention to Aura. Roast purposefully sniffled and wiped his muzzle, but she still stared.

“So assuming that changeling memory works similar to ours, it’s expected that granular details won’t maintain their truthy integrity in our or their brains. The things we care about are slightly bigger in scale. That and emotion,” she emphasized, flaring her wings, but still holding the pen. “The more impactful the event, the more likely the thing will be stored with greater detail in long term memory. Or at least the details pertinent to the impact.”

Her unoccupied wing folded back at her side while her other continued playing with the pen. “Though, that shouldn’t matter much here. As far as we know, though we admittedly know very little, changelings don’t possess the ability to extract memories from their targets. There are no known spells for that, either. We do know of one instance of mind control thanks to the recently wedded royal couple, but that’s inflicting influence on the target’s mental state, not retrieving information. So, while they might be able to get a verbal account of some of the target’s memories, it’s impossible to expect that changelings could force them to convey years worth of detailed memories.”

Roast simply stared at her, not quite sure what to say. The infodump was rather… informative? Even more, he was rather put off by her lack of eye contact.

“Thank you, Aura. To circle back to your question,” Lieutenant Steel said, breaking the short moment of silence. “Unless it’s something important to the event, we’re more looking for the when, where, and how, rather than the what. We’re not interested in, say, the specific color of the walls at your favorite restaurant. And, of course, they should generally be things that only the two of you are likely to know in detail.”

“Okay, that makes sense.” Some of the tension Roast had been carrying left him. Knowing that missing the exact specifics wouldn’t doom Sweet Leaf was quite relieving. “I think that’s all the questions I had, then.”

“Perfect!” Refined Aura tossed the pen into the air, catching it with her other wing, and grabbed a clipboard laying on the desk. Pen in one wing and clipboard in the other, she looked directly into Roast’s eyes. “Let’s start easy. Tell me about something simple, something recent that she’d be sure to remember, no matter who she really is.”

“Hmm.” Roast looked off to the side as he thought. Gotta stay away from obvious stuff, like our last dinner night. But maybe… The gang did tell me I should go to the guard, and enough ponies know Bobby Pin stopped by the night before she left. “Would a few nights ago work?”

“Sure,” Aura said, eyes still locked onto his.

“Okay, so, on Monday night, one of our friends named Wavy Palette stops by…”

“...but she told me that alone wasn’t enough. Sweet Leaf also wanted a heart carved around both of them. It was late in the evening, so the next day we went to a nearby jeweler and brought them the amethyst. She was beyond herself when we got it back a couple days later. She cried and hugged me saying it was the most beautiful thing she’d ever gotten.

“For me, it was an utterly harrowing day,” Roast continued, even as Aura’s eyes remained on him for uncomfortable lengths of time, occasionally flitting back to the clipboard she was writing on. “I’d gone to pick it up, but apparently as the carver was finishing one of the letters, they slipped and cracked the amethyst in half. They were able to seal it back together, but a tiny line is visible if you hold the stone just right. The carving fee was waived and they offered me a discount on my next purchase.

“I was pretty livid, but I’d managed to calm down enough by the time I arrived home. I was so relieved when she accepted it, but I was worried she’d notice it later. She never did, or at least never brought it up.”

“Excellent,” Aura said once Roast had finished, finally taking her eyes off him and finishing her notes.

It was predictable, at this point. She’d stare at him nearly the entire time he was answering her question, then after he finished recalling one of his and Sweet Leaf’s times together, she’d focus entirely on the clipboard for a few moments. Not until he began answering another question would her eyes lock back onto his.

Roast let out a sigh and swallowed with what little he had in his dry mouth. Glancing up at the clock on the left wall, he realized they’d been at this for over forty-five minutes now. It was hard, drudging up all these memories, knowing they might be the last recollection of Sweet Leaf before they take her away.

If they take her away. Roast reminded himself.

The fatigue from earlier reared its head with the lull in questioning and his eyes still had a little weight to them, but his desire to curl up in bed with his wife was more about his wife than his bed at this point. As he waited for Aura to finish writing, he thought, once more, that he’d do anything to make sure Sweet Leaf came home. But, again, you are doing everything you can to help her.

“Alright,” Aura looked back up from her notes, “that’s your third anniversary, then your first. How about your second? Did anything noteworthy happen then?”

Looking off to the side, he thought again. It was getting harder to think as his brain began to feel a bit mushy. Second anniversary, second anniversary, that was when… he closed his eyes, trying to focus, what did I give her then? I don’t remember giving her any other gifts. Come on, think!

“Mister Roast?” Lieutenant Steel asked, touching Roast’s shoulder.

Roast opened his tightly clenched eyes, looking over at the lieutenant. He hadn’t even realized he’d squeezed them so tight. “Yes?”

“Would you like to take a break?”

Take a break. He didn’t know if he’d be able to finish this up if he took a break. He was sure he could, or so he told himself, but the what if hung there like a nasty stench.

“How much more do we have to go?” he asked, looking back and forth between Steel and Aura.

“I think,” Aura said, once again not quite looking at Roast, “all I’ll need is this one and maybe one more.”

Roast tried to swallow from his dry mouth again. “Maybe a glass of water, then? I think I’m okay to continue otherwise.”

“Sure, give me just a moment.” Steel got up and opened the door, heading out into the hallway.

It was him and Aura, then, and the mare continued to read over her notes as he sat there.

“Miss Aura? Could I ask you a question?”

“Hm?” She looked up at not quite his eyes. “Yes, of course.”

“Sorry if it’s a little too personal, but why do you, well, do everything with your wings?”

“No, that’s a perfectly fine question.” She set down her clipboard and began playing with the pen between her feathers again, looking down at the desk in front of Roast. “I’m a little, mmm, odd, I guess you could say and I’m aware of it. It’s a habit I’ve had since I was a filly. Having something grasped in my feathers has always calmed me and helped me concentrate better. It’s not that I can’t use my hooves,” she brought up her forehooves and clapped them together a couple times, “more that I like the feeling I get when my vanes brush over an object, sending that feeling back to the nerves in my rachis. Normal birds don’t have nerves where we do or wings like we do, so they can’t feel or do what we can. It’s so uniquely us.”

“I see,” Roast said, watching as she flipped the pen between feathers. Odd would be right. I wonder if something happened to her when she was young. Or maybe that’s me being insensitive.

“Here you are, Mister Roast,” Steel said as he entered the room, holding out a paper coffee cup filled with water in his hoof.

“Thank you.” Roast took it and began drinking as Steel closed the door behind himself. He tipped the cup vertically, getting the last couple drops out, then set the empty cup on the desk in front of him.

“Are you okay to continue, now?” Lieutenant Steel asked.

Roast nodded. “Yes, I think I’m good.” He turned back to Aura, looking at her expectantly.

“Perfect,” Aura said, picking up the clipboard again and looked him in his eyes. “So, tell me about your second anniversary.”

Right. I still don’t remember what I got her that year. “Give me a minute. I’m trying to remember what we did then.” It didn’t help that Aura still didn’t take her eyes off him.

I remember the amethyst of our first anniversary and the trip I planned to Las Pegasus for our third, but what did I get—

If it weren’t for Aura’s critical eye, Roast would have facehooved. He was utterly disappointed in himself. You didn’t get her anything, you idiot. How could you forget something so special? You are such a terrible…

Roast snorted and looked back up at Aura. “Ah, right. I remember now. I was so focused on trying to recall all the gifts I’d gotten her, that it didn’t cross my mind that she flipped it that year. Sweet Leaf said she didn’t want me to get her anything that year and instead wanted to get me something.

“So that year, she…” His words caught as that day ran through his mind. He swallowed and cleared his throat. “Sorry. That year, she was so tight lipped about it. I had no idea what to expect. I’d honestly never had a mare get me a gift like that, not Sweet Leaf, not any mare I dated before her. My mom never did it for my dad either. It was always him getting her something on their anniversary.

“On the day of our anniversary, she, uh,” he licked his dry lips. Come on, keep it together, “she uh, got me a really special gift. I knew she was saving away bits from her portion of the cafe’s revenue, but I had no idea she’d saved up that much. We went out for a wonderful dinner at our favorite restaurant at the time, Sakana Koya. We were regulars there, so they’d let her reserve a private area, just for us. She’d even paid extra to have our own personal server that night. Afterwards, we went home and I’d thought that was it.

“She told me to wait downstairs for a moment while she went to get my other gift ready. I thought that was her way of saying she was going to put on some, uh, nice music or something. When she called me up, she was sitting on the bed with a small gift basket in her lap. She gave it to me and I was dumbfounded when I opened it. Inside was three quarter kilograms of authentic kopi luwak coffee beans. A ‘normal’ sized bag of those beans costs over a thousand bits and there in the bag was twice that amount.

“When I looked back at her, she told me to open the coffee bag.” His voice began to waiver as tears began pooling in his eyes. “I opened it and inside were three of the most beautifully cut brown topaz I’d ever seen. She’d gotten them cut to match the three beans on my cutie mark. Then…” he took a deep, shaky breath, “then she pulls a box out from behind her back. She opens it and inside is a custom made coffee cup and saucer, an exact match to my cutie mark.

“But then, she… she,” A tear broke free, trailing wetly down to his chin, “she told me that everything she got me that night, the value of all the gifts was nothing, compared to her love for me. And I didn’t… I don’t… I…”

Roast gasped as he squeezed his eyes tight, jaw trembling, tears breaking from both eyes. He shook his head and couldn’t… he couldn’t imagine it.

Her. He needed her. He didn’t know where he’d be without her. Had no idea what to do without her, his rock, his shelter, his love. A sob tore from his throat. He tried to hold it back and be strong for her.

He couldn’t.

Cold metal grasped his shoulder. He turned and saw Steel looking at him with sad eyes and open arms. Roast nearly jerked back as Steel leaned forward and wrapped his hooves around him. He tried to convince himself he didn’t need it, that he was a tough stallion and could push through.

“You will get your wife back. I promise you.”

He couldn’t. The dam broke and a deep wail escaped him. He grasped the hard metal armor tightly and cried. It was too much. He’d almost lost her not even a week ago and now she was at the chopping block once again.

Long moments of sobs continued before Roast finally felt his tears begin to abate. His weeping turned into deep, shaky breaths and he released the lieutenant.

“I’m sorry.” Roast sat back in his seat and snorted, wiping a fetlock across his cheek.

“Don’t apologize,” Steel reproved, getting out of his chair and looking across the desk. “I can’t even begin to imagine what you’re going through right now. And…” he let out an annoyed sigh, “of course Sylvan wouldn’t keep tissues on his desk. I’ll be right back.” He opened the door and left.

“She means a lot to you, doesn’t she?”

“What?” Roast looked up at Aura. Through the haze of his teary eyes, he was surprised to see a single line of wetness down the side of her face.

“Your wife means the world to you,” she repeated, huffing out her nose and wiping her cheek. “I’m one of the best this guard has and I’ve been doing it for years. I’ve seen dozens of ponies break down. Some fake, many real. I’m quirky, and I have weird ticks that others find distasteful. Just because I can’t meet your eyes if I’m not analyzing you doesn’t mean the sorrow I have to witness doesn’t bite me. If I had a pony that would cry over me like that… Like Little Steel said, I’ll do everything I can to find Sweet Leaf, even if she’s in a cell, not fifteen meters from here.”

“Thank you,” Roast whispered, sniffling as he looked back at the floor. He heard Aura pick up her pen and clipboard and silence filled the room. So desperately he hoped Sweet Leaf could fool her. If she really was the best…

“I’m so sorry.” Steel rushed into the room with a box of tissues and closed the door. “Apparently ponies in this station have an allergy to tissues. Here.”

“Thank you,” Roast said again, grabbing a few tissues from the box, wiping his face down and blowing his nose. Pile of soiled tissues in hoof, he looked around for a trash can. Not finding one, he looked forward again and noticed Aura holding up a small can with her wing. He gave her a thankful smile and nod. Standing up, he reached over the desk and dropped the tissues inside, then sat back down.

“If you’re okay with it,” Aura began, meeting Roast’s eyes for only a split second before darting away to some other part of his face, “I have only one more question.”

Roast breathed in deep. Quickly releasing it he nodded. “Okay, I’m good. Go ahead.”

“Alright.” Her eyes locked onto his for what he hoped was the last time. “There’s no nice way to put this, so I won’t beat around the bush. Can you think back on anything odd or unusual that would now make you suspect Sweet Leaf could be a changeling?”

He almost shifted in his seat. That was not the last question of the interview he’d expected. He shook his head. “No, I can’t think of anything.”

“Roast,” Aura said sternly, narrowing her eyes, “you’re lying.”

“What?” He tried to react as little as possible, desperately trying to think how to act normal, as if he’d been called out for something that was objectively false.

“You twitched in your seat, your jaw clenched, and you went still for a short moment. On top of that, right before you answered, your eyes shifted away from mine.” She sat back, eyes still on his. “You lied a few times throughout the interview. Each time you’d do a couple of those four things, especially looking away. Once was during your honeymoon, when you almost talked about your nightly activities. Another time was when you talked about your second anniversary and putting on music. Probably sex related. Those were understandable.”

She sighed and her eyes darted away to not quite his eyes again. “Roast,” she said softly, “I can’t help you find your wife if you’re not honest with me.”

“That’s not… that’s not it.” Inside, he was panicking. He got through all the questions, the breaking down, only to fail at this! “It’s not that I think she’s a changeling. It’s, she...“

“Roast,” Aura said calmly, “I’m on your side. I’m here to help you. So’s Little Steel and everyone else working on this investigation. Please, tell me what you know.”

Roast swallowed. Think of something! There has to be something you can say, something that you don’t have to lie about.

“Okay. But… it’s not that I think she’s a changeling,” because I know she’s one, “it’s that… I’m scared. I’m scared of the what if. What if she’s really my wife in there? I’m afraid to cast doubt on her, because… because I can’t lose her.”

“Then you have nothing to worry about.” Aura gave him a reassuring smile. “If we suspect she is, we will dig and dig and dig until we reach an absolutely concrete conclusion.”

He looked down for a moment. That’s exactly what I’m afraid of.

“Alright.” He met her eyes again as they locked onto his. “When Wavy Palette stormed into our cafe the other day and accused her of being a changeling, I began to doubt her. What if she wasn’t who she said she was?”

“But what was it she did that made you doubt her?” Aura pressed.

Say something ambiguous. But don’t lie! “It was… with Bobby Pin.”

“What about her?”

“Earlier in the day when Wavy Palette came by to tell us his marefriend was a changeling, Bobby Pin came by the cafe. Sweet Leaf was cleaning outside at the time and... and, um,” He paused for a moment, realizing what he’d started and his stomach sank. This is the wrong story. This is proof, not ambiguity! Roast, you absolute idiot. But... I can’t not tell the rest. “She, uh, gave Sweet Leaf the midday paper.”

“The midday paper on Monday?” Aura asked. “The paper containing the fresh news story about the changeling attack at Canterlot? That paper?”

“Yes.”

“And you saw this.”

“Yes.”

She simply looked at him for a moment. It unnerved him and his mind screamed at him to look away, but he held strong with the last thread he had.

Aura broke the silence first. “What happened next?”

“She brought the paper back in and asked me if we could talk,” he continued, feeling like every word was one step closer to Firefly’s death. “In the kitchen she showed it to me, but it was the middle of the lunch rush. We were too busy to stop and talk, so I told her we’d talk about it later that night.” He closed his eyes for a brief moment. But we never did. We never talked about the attack that night. Not that night.

“Did you talk about it later?” Aura prodded again.

Roast opened his eyes and shook his head. “No, we didn’t. Wavy Palette came that night, then Bobby Pin. The rest of the night was us recovering from the ordeal and the following days we were far busier than normal. We normally work almost eighty hour weeks from prep to clean up. There wasn’t a lot of time for talking.”

He finally closed his mouth and stared back at her, tired and beaten. Come on, there were no lies there. Come on. Please. He tried to keep it from showing on his face, but was sure more than enough came through for Aura’s critical gaze.

“Interesting,” Aura said after a long moment. “There were no other times where she acted odd or out of place? Recently or further in the past?”

“No.” Roast slowly shook his head. “There’s no other time that I can think of. She’s always been the same Sweet Leaf.”

She sat back and looked back at her clipboard, writing down more notes. Another long, nerve-wracking moment later, she gazed up at him with a smile, not quite meeting his eyes once again. “Thank you for being honest with me.”

Relief flooded Roast and a tiny bit of hope remained, flickering like a flame on the last bit of candle wick. Maybe, if Sweet Leaf could handle the rest and convince her… maybe he hadn’t doomed his wife.

“Alright,” she spoke up again, “I’ll need a little bit of time before I’m ready to begin the interrogation. Lieutenant Steel, if you could, please escort Mister Roast back to the waiting room. I’m sure there’s no chance of him wanting to go home right now.” She turned to Roast. “Am I assuming right?”

“Yes. That’s right.”

“Good. We’ll keep you updated.”

Steel got up and opened the door. “Mister Roast, if you’d please follow me.”

Roast got up and exited into the hallway, walking behind the lieutenant even though the waiting room was right ahead. Reaching the empty alcove, he took the same back corner chair as the last two times.

“Thank you for all the information,” Steel said once Roast had seated himself. “It really helps a lot.”

“Lieutenant Steel?” Roast called before he could turn away.

“Yes?”

“Is there… any way I could watch the interrogation?”

“Usually we don’t allow civilians into the observation room without due cause. However, I’ll speak with Miss Aura about it.”

“Okay. Thank you.” Roast gave him a half smile.

Lieutenant Steel smiled and nodded back before turning and walking back down the hallway, leaving Roast to ruminate on his thoughts.

The wait was the worst part.

Roast looked up at the clock on the hallway wall again for the thousandth time. Almost an hour had passed since Steel had left him in the waiting room. He looked over two rows ahead at his current waiting companion. The other stallion had come in half an hour ago and hadn’t been seen to yet.

Though, the silent pony facing away from him did little to keep his mind from playing through scenario after scenario of what he could have done better. No matter what he thought of, there wasn’t a single thing Roast could think of that would have ended any different.

Lying was too risky and any “suspicious” actions Sweet Leaf had done recently would have been seen as exactly that. Bobby Pin giving her the newspaper? Suspicious. Sweet Leaf worried about the threat in Canterlot? Suspicious. Her interrupting him when Wavy accused her? Suspicious. There wasn’t a single thing he could think of that wouldn’t have given her away.

It made him realize how underprepared he was. He’d thought so much about what to say and what happened in their past that he barely even considered what not to say. He’d even forgotten for a moment that they weren’t friends. They were the enemy.

And that, undeniably, showed just how big of a liability Roast was. It was a danger to her, even, for him to keep being her husband. If Firefly was found out and she managed to escape, maybe… maybe it would be a good thing. Maybe ponies and changelings never were meant to fall in love. Maybe.

Roast sighed and sat back in the still uncomfortable chair. He wanted to take his mind off of all this and stop it from running in circles. Looking around the room for a distraction, his eyes trailed over the magazines not for the first time that hour. Quietly grunting, he disregarded them again. Reading was wholly unappealing at the moment and he’d already counted the twenty square ceiling tiles at least a dozen times.

The refreshments table caught his gaze next. The coffee in the carafe had gone down by only a single cup since he’d been there. Perhaps the horrendous taste of the military-grade caffeinated beverage would keep his mind off the interrogation for the moment.

He began to slide out of his seat when he spotted Lieutenant Steel enter from the right hallway and look in Roast’s direction.

“Mister Roast? If you could please come with me.”

“S-sure,” Roast shakily replied and got out of his seat, following him back down the hall.

Roast’s heart pounded in his chest. Was this it? Were they going to inform him of their findings? Did they know?

They arrived back at the open door of Aura’s impromptu office, though Roast noted that she was not present. Entering the room after Steel, he took a seat at the lieutenant’s suggestion and waited as Steel closed the door and sat behind the desk.

“Alright, Roast. I had talked it over with Miss Aura and we’d like your help in the observation room.”

“Okay.” Roast raised an eyebrow at the guard. “What is it you think I can do?”

“We’re honestly not even sure if it’ll work. Because of our limited knowledge of changeling physiology, we’re pretty much throwing things at the wall and seeing if anything sticks. We want you to come into the observation room at a critical moment and as soon as you see her, try to project your love onto her.”

He didn’t like where this was going. “Project my love? What do you mean?”

“Changelings feed off love, but we have no idea how, at what distance, or even if they can sense or feed off it through walls. When we bring you in, try to focus on how much you love Sweet Leaf. We’re hoping your efforts combined with the objects we’ll be revealing will get a reaction. If she’s a changeling that is.”

“Objects?” Roast definitely didn’t like this. “What things are you going to show her?”

“These are what we were looking for in your cafe.”

Roast watched as Steel reached down into a drawer and his heart froze as Lieutenant Steel placed an evidence bag containing a single love crystal on the desk.

“What… is that?” Roast asked, hoping he could successfully feign ignorance in front of him.

“We’re not sure.” Steel flipped the bag over. “These were found at Wavy Palette’s house as well as at your cafe. We checked with both geologists and mages in town and none of them had seen anything like them. They give off a distinct magical aura, which suggests they could be similar to a mana crystal.”

“I see.” He supposed it was only a matter of time before they found out what they really were, though he certainly wasn’t going to help them along.

“So,” Steel put his elbows on the table, his hooves together, and leaned forward, “would you be willing to help in the observation room?”

“I suppose so.” Roast figured there was no harm in it, especially if they couldn’t verify he actually was doing as they asked. He merely had to make sure to keep all his emotions as low as possible.

“Excellent. Any questions before we head over to the interrogation rooms?” Steel asked as he picked up the evidence bag, stowing the crystal in a pouch.

“Uhm…” he paused, trying to think of anything he hadn’t already asked. They already said tiny details wouldn’t matter, it doesn’t matter if she doesn’t “pass” the interrogation because—wait, this is an interrogation. Did Sweet ever ask for an attorney?

“Yes, I—” Roast hesitated. Would that be such a good thing to ask? No, there’s no reason to ask that. If she got one, then she did. If she didn’t, then she must have a plan. “Er, nevermind. I asked that already,” he lied.

“Very well then. Please follow me.”

As Roast stood and walked out after Steel, his heart clenched as he wondered if he screwed up, yet again.

Should I have had an attorney? he thought on that for a short moment as Steel began locking the office. I… don’t think so. There’s no bail to negotiate, no sentence to lessen. And what would they have guided me on? Which evidence of Firefly being a changeling I should or shouldn’t say? No, it would have only looked like I had something to hide.

Steel finished locking the door and turned to Roast. “This way and please keep your voice low when we enter the cell hall.” He led him further down the hallway and near the end of the hall on the right was a barred steel door. The lieutenant pulled keys from a belt pouch and unlocked the door, ushering Roast in, then entering and locking the door behind him. A short walk straight down and there on the right wall were four heavy-looking steel doors. Lieutenant Steel walked up to the second door labeled Observation Room 1.

“Okay,” Steel said quietly, “it should only be a few minutes. I’ll let them know we’re here.” Steel unlocked and opened the door, stepped inside.

Briefly glancing inside the dark room, Roast saw one guard sitting in front of the window while another sat at a table, writing on a large notepad, with a graphing printer next to her. His heart leaped as he heard the faint, distant voice of his wife for a short moment before the door closed, cutting him off. Instantly bile crept up his throat and he knew this was a mistake. If things didn’t go well, this would be the very last time he saw his wife as Sweet Leaf.

He looked up and down the hall, but there was no restroom to throw up in. Breathing deep, he swallowed thickly, trying to prepare himself for the worst.

A short moment later, the door opened and Steel stepped back out, quietly closing the door. “Almost there. They’ll let us know when Aura’s about to present the items.”

Nodding, Roast sat himself against the opposite wall, his heart thumping away in his chest. Neither he nor the lieutenant said anything. Finally, after a few more minutes, the door opened again, the guard inside nodding at Steel. Roast looked over as Steel stood and nodded his head at the room. He breathed deep and got up, the room’s darkness swallowing him.

As Roast looked through the one-way mirror, he tried to think of nothing, tried to feel nothing, tried so desperately to not screw up once again.

He failed.

Anger filled him as his wife sat there, wings bound and hooves chained to the steel table. A band ran around her chest with a wire leading to the observation room wall. She didn’t deserve this. She deserved nothing less than the world and here they were, trying to take everything from her.

In that moment, hate filled his heart and it refused to be tempered.

“Did you feel that?” he heard Aura say as she glanced and nodded at the glass between them. “They just brought Fine Roast in. I want him to see this, to see what’s hiding behind that face.”

He watched as she reached her wings into her case and pulled out a small, familiar-looking box, similar to one they kept… Roast’s eyes widened. That is one of our present boxes! What are they doing with it here?

Aura set it in her lap, out of Sweet Leaf’s view and pulled off the lid, putting it on the floor. From the box, she pulled out a large evidence bag and tossed it onto the table, a dulled clatter resounding in the room. She set the present box aside and spoke, “You know what these are, don’t you?”

“No. I’m afraid I don’t.”

Roast looked over as the pony scribing leaned into a microphone. “Her heart rate spiked right when you set it down.”

Looking back, he saw an earpiece in Aura’s ear, then flicked over to the band on Sweet Leaf’s chest. It’s a heart rate monitor!

“Are you sure, changeling? Because your acting has been superb, but your heart betrays you.”

Roast stared blankly at Sweet Leaf, his anger fizzling out alongside his last flickering flame of hope. Her lips moved, but he heard no words.

They’re taking her. They’re taking her. She’s gone, they’re taking—

His eyes grew wide. He frantically looked along the floor and locked onto a trash can.

He dashed forward and threw up.

“It was wonderful meeting you!” Violet Mural beamed at the stallion wearing some traditional Japonese garb she was certain was named somewhere in the pamphlet.

“Of course! You have a wonderful night, miss.” He returned her smile, then faced the next pony in line. “Hello sir! Hope you enjoyed—”

Violet scanned the crowded foyer and put on a smile as she caught Silver Varnish’s eyes near the entrance and walked over to her date. “Ready to go?”

“If you are,” Varnish replied with that same charming smile he’d given her when they met.

“I am.”

“Then let us abscond.” He turned and walked a few paces towards the entrance. Opening it, he walked out and held it. “For you, milady.”

“Thank you.” Violet nodded at Silver Varnish and exited through the theater door. “Whew! That’s very refreshing.”

“You’re welcome and I agree,” Varnish said, letting go of the door and walking at Violet’s side down the theater’s stone stairs, “It’s quite wonderful, stepping from that stuffy lobby into the cool, night air.”

“The stuffiness was totally worth it though, what with getting to meet the performers.” Violet stepped off the last stair and onto the wide sidewalk. “It was such a captivating taiko performance, I couldn’t not meet them!”

“Mmm, definitely. The energy during the show was absolutely astounding.”

“Wasn’t it?” Violet grinned at him as they and the mild throng of ponies weaved around each other. “I was so surprised when that drummers’ stick broke halfway. I thought she would have had to interrupt the performance to get a new one, but wow. She didn’t spare it a single thought and simply flipped it around and kept drumming. I think she only missed maybe one or two beats.”

“The skills some ponies develop truly are amazing.”

“I wonder how long it took them to get that good,” Violet said, looking up at the night sky, the downtown evening crowd thinning to a mere few ponies.

“Well, the myth about needing five or ten thousand hours to master a craft was debunked a little while ago. Instead, the researchers said it was more dependent upon the pony themselves. Sometimes it takes decades for a pony to become an elite musician, whereas another pony might reach that status in a mere few years.”

“Huh. I didn’t know that.” That particular myth had rather been quite the fact in training. It was why they pushed the trainees so hard. The instructors wanted to get as many hours of experience into each collector-to-be as they could.

I think I finished training with… fifty-four hundred hours? That sounds about right. I wonder if I’m one of the ones who would have needed more time. I suppose—

“A bit for your thoughts?” Varnish interrupted.

“Oh, uh, I was thinking about how much longer I’ll have to go before I can call myself a true artist.”

“Mis— erm, Violet,” he came to a stop, turning and catching her eyes, “I think you are a wonderful artist as it is. There are always areas we can improve upon, but you mustn’t focus on what you could be. Merely focus on what you are. Keep practicing, and time will take care of the rest.”

She looked away and forced a blush on her face. What if I don’t have that time? It’s a little late to be practicing when I need to be doing instead.

“I… suppose you’re right,” she said, looking back down the walkway. She spotted a grassy walkway a block further and thought perhaps she could work on the “doing” part right now. “Ah, Varnish, there’s a park right up ahead. Would you, perchance, like to take a stroll?”

“Ahh, well, you see,” he turned to face her directly, “I was planning on asking if you’d like to come by my apartment. I’d love to show you the piece I’ve been working on the last few days.”

Spindle hesitated. The attraction trickling from him had grown somewhat since they’d met, but so had his lust. Neither provided much sustenance at this point, but her hunger begged her to agree. Even still, she knew some ponies partook in sex after only a few dates, but those generally didn’t tend to be lasting relationships. It was still much too soon, in her opinion, and she wanted this to have the best chance at surviving. Plus, Spindle wasn’t all that interested in bedroom activities in general.

“I’d actually like to wait until it’s finished,” Violet spoke after a short moment. “Though, that does remind me that it is rather late and I’d like to see about doing some more job searching tomorrow.”

She felt the definite disappointment overcome the majority of his emotions. It seemed he was trying to get lucky tonight. Let’s find out if playing hard to get for a little longer works out.

“I see.” A hint of a frown almost made its way onto his face, but she saw it quickly disappear, replaced by his charming smile once again. “Well, in that case, I should bid you adieu.”

Violet watched as he took hold of her hoof, bringing it to his lips and kissing it. She pulled her hoof back and giggled. “Thank you for tonight, Mister Varnish. It was a most wonderful dinner and show,” she said playfully, trying to sound as noble as she could.

“A most wonderful night, indeed, Miss Mural,” he said, playing along. “Mayhap we shall see each other again soon?”

“Oh, yes, on the, uh… on the…“ She snorted and broke into giggles. “Yes, I’d love to, Varnish. How does dinner in two nights sound?” The gnawing hunger in her chest urged her to say tomorrow, but she beat it down. It wouldn’t do to appear too eager.

“Mm, I’m afraid I’m busy that night. How about the night after, Wednesday, I believe?”

She nearly grunted in regret, but masked it with a smile. “That’ll work perfectly.”

“Excellent. Then I shall look forward to our next meeting.”

“So will I.” She moved closer, spreading her foreleg and hugging him, him hoof wrapping back around her. They parted after a moment and she looked back into his eyes. “Have a good night, Varnish.”

“You as well, my dear.”

With one last parting smile, she turned and walked away, heading back south into downtown. As had become the usual, she felt him watch her leave. The attraction and lust hung in the air for a moment before the distance became too great for her senses.

Now that she was alone amongst the late-night strangers, the frown she’d been holding back the entire night fell onto her face. She’d been able to keep herself from grimacing, but now without a distraction and no one to act for, the overwhelming need for love came at her with its full force. Only once or twice during training could she remember the clawing, gaping, pulling, crushing in her chest being this intense.

Except, back then, it was easy to deal with. She knew it would be over after a while.

As she passed back into the downtown crowd, she tried to put at least a neutral expression on, but the edges of her lips wouldn’t stop twitching into a glower.

Maybe… maybe it wouldn’t be so bad. A little bit of fleeting physical affection wouldn’t be worth a lot, but maybe it could curb the hunger for a day or two. Her gait froze for a few beats. I bet if I hurried back, I could find him and take him up on the offer. She began stepping to the side to turn around.

“Oof,” Violet grunted as something ran into her from behind.

“Hey! You mind not stoppin’ in the middle of the walkway?” A mare said, walking around and giving Spindle a nasty look.

“Sorry.” Violet winced, offering a sheepish smile. “I was, uhh…” she trailed off, the mare ignoring her and continuing on her way. She quickly followed the rude stranger’s example, not wanting another encounter.

Spindle shrunk into herself and walked on. Not only did she almost ruin her chances at a decent relationship, she got distracted in the middle of a downtown sidewalk!

Come on! Get your head together! Ignore the pain, it’s only been a week. You went through worse in training. Go back to your room and wait for Wednesday.

Though, the waiting was only half the problem. What she really needed was the response from the hive. It had been four days since she’d arrived in Cincinneighti and sent off a request for help to the hive, but still nothing. It wasn’t like them to be this late and the implications of their delay settled like a rock in her stomach. She had no idea what she’d do if they didn’t get back to her.

If they didn’t, then… then she’d be truly alone.

A chill ran down her spine at the thought. If the hive never got back to her, there’s no way she’d be able to find the Cincinneighti changelings. She couldn’t go back to Hoofington; that bridge had burned a week ago. And if the hive wouldn’t respond to her here, they wouldn’t respond to her anywhere.

There was no way she could handle being alone. Not only was she not experienced enough, she had no way to support herself. Forcefully draining a pony was an option, but right now that would only make her and every other Cincinneighti changeling’s lives more difficult. Not to mention she couldn’t stand doing it.

Spindle shuddered with disgust.

She absolutely hated the feelings the ponies went through during training. The fear, helplessness, terror, anger, and despair tasted so horrible when they forced her and the other trainees to drain the captive ponies over and over.

Though, short of that, there really was nothing to do but wait for the hive to respond. She grimaced and realized that if she had to steal again to survive until her emergency package came, then… that’s what she had to do.

Draining a pony simply wasn’t an option. It was too dangerous.

If I can keep my transformations down to zero and not exert myself, I should be able to last another week. She had absolutely no desire to let her hunger get that bad, but she had nearly no say in the matter. Either the hive came through or…

She didn’t want to even entertain the thought. Instead she continued on down the street, trying not to think about the worst case scenario.

A dozen or two blocks and a few turns later, The Golden Inn finally came into view.

Nothing golden about the place anymore. Those years came and went a while ago, Spindle thought, not for the first time as she took in the sight of the poor building. Faded yellow paint chipped off the two story building, the dry swimming pool looked like it hadn’t been used in years, and the carriage lot cobblestone had more than a couple missing stones.

Regardless of the quality, it was the only motel she was able to find that allowed her to book a week at a time and pay at the end of each week.

Though, before she could settle in for the night, she needed to check with the front office. She made a beeline for the lighted office door below the half lit Vacancy sign. When she reached the door and peered through the rectangular window, she was relieved that there was actually somepony posted at the desk for once.

Opening the door, the mare at the front desk glanced up from her magazine. Violet was only a little offended at the following eye roll.

“Look, lady,” the attendant groused, “if you’re here about your mail again, I told ya two nights ago that if ya had any, I’d put it in your room.”

Spindle nearly recoiled at the deep annoyance flowing from her. “I’m sorry. The other mare this morning told me to check in with you tonight. I was only—”

“Petunia?” she spat, setting down her magazine. “She don’t know nothin’. And what, ya didn’t trust me enough that ya went and asked somepony else?”

“No, that’s not it.” Violet shook her head and held up a hoof to placate her. “The topic just happened to come up and she told me to check with you in case it came in during her shift.”

“Look,” she placed her hooves on the counter and glowered at Violet, “I told ya twice before that if ya got mail, I’d get it to ya. I don’t want to have to tell ya again. Ya got it?”

“Y-yes, ma’am.” Spindle nodded her head. “Sorry. Have a good night.”

All Violet got in return was a huff and another eye roll as the mare sat back in her chair.

Turning around and exiting the front office, Spindle continued around the office and headed up the barely lit stairs. Passing by rooms, she counted.

Room 14, room 15, room 19, she raised an eyebrow in passing, aaand room 17.

The first time she’d been confused and paused at “room 19.” She’d chuckled when, on closer inspection, the missing top nail from the six became apparent.

She grimaced, thinking about how much less amusing it was after she found out what was beyond the doors. Though, as Spindle looked down at the door lock, one of the few nice things she found about the motel was the lack of keys. Using her magic, she put in her room’s combination number into the old five button lock. As she’d gotten used to, the first couple times a button got stuck, but on the third try, it unlocked.

A nicety in the ‘golden’ years. Nothing but an annoyance now.

Entering the room, she flicked on the lights and looked at the desk and bed. She sighed as, yet again, no mail. Closing the door behind her, she continued into the room and flopped down on the old and worn lounge chair, wincing as she hit a loose spring. Both it and the bed were equally as lumpy and uncomfortable. Though like the previous three nights, neither would be where she slept.

Spindle laid her head back, and flopped it to the side, gazing lethargically over at the bathroom. She wondered if she should give in and get into the tub to sleep. At least then she’d have the slight comfort of feeling like she was back in the hive, the cold metal passingly similar to their underground, rocky-cubby sleeping quarters.

With nothing better to do, she sighed and got up, walking towards her sleep hole.

Three knocks on the door made her pause and look at the room’s entrance. Who could that be? I’m not expecting… her eyes went wide and she gasped. Could it be mail?!

Hopeful, she turned and trotted to the door, opening it.

“Silver Varnish?” Violet asked, her face contorting in confusion. “What are you doing here?”

“What am I doing here?” Varnish scoffed. “What are you doing here?”

“This is where I’m staying,” she said, fighting the urge to shrink into herself at her embarrassing, sordid housing state. Though Spindle had no earthly idea what Varnish could even be doing at her door, she was even more confused at the… anger that dripped from him.

“Varnish, is there something you needed?”

“Mind if I come inside?” he said, nowhere near as harshly as his emotions betrayed.

“I, uh, sure?” Violet stepped back and allowed him inside, shutting the door behind him.

“So, this is where you’ve been staying,” he repeated, looking around the room.

“Yes, it is,” she said simply, deciding to let him carry the conversation since he didn’t seem to want to answer her questions.

After a moment, he turned to face her. “You know, I had been curious. Why it was that you never carried anything. Why you never had any bits. I’d been happy to pay for your meals and the theater ticket, but I think I understand now. This explains a lot.”

“Wait,” Violet pleaded, feeling his distaste and disappointment. “This isn’t what you think.”

“Oh?” He merely raised an eyebrow at her. “And what is it that I think, hm?”

“I…” she paused, not expecting him to flip it around on her. “I don’t know, but I’m sure you think it’s bad or I was being deceitful.”

“It’s hard to believe,” he said wistfully, “that I didn’t recognize the signs.”

“Signs?” Now she began to worry, his changeling paintings flashed into her mind. Though she didn’t sense any suspicion from him.

He looked directly into her eyes and scowled. “Once they realize it, I doubt you’ll find many ponies willing to entertain a gold digger.”

“Wha—Gold digger?!” Her eye twitched. This is what made their relationship crumble? Him being too prejudiced to realize it could be any number of situations that could put her here? Spindle’s jaw clenched.

Who does he think he is, coming to my room this late at night, asking—her eyes went wide with sudden realization. “Varnish. You followed me. Just what were you planning on doing had I been somewhere more… acceptable?” she spat the last word.

He gave her an exaggerated eye roll. “Well, you needn’t worry about that anymore. We’re—”

“Excuse me?” Spindle narrowed her eyes. “I don’t need to worry about what?! Tell me what you were planning on doing!”

“I was merely hoping to find your address so I could have sent you something special.”

“That is… unbelievably creepy. Do you stalk all the mares you get into relationships with?”

“Of course not!” He reeled back and held a hoof to his chest. “And I was not stalking you!”

She fumed, her jaw clenching again. I can’t believe this! The first potential source I find and he’s a complete creep!

A knock on the door shook her from her anger. The two of them looked over at the door, then back to each other. She ignored his questioning look and walked over to open the door. “Hello?”

“Miss Violet?” a frowning, rather rotund, brown earth pony asked.

“Yes? That’s me.” Spindle’s brow furrowed. Just outside and out of her view, she sensed more ponies, two of them it seemed.

“My name is Hard Note. I’m the manager and owner of this motel. May I come in?”

“I, erm, kind of already have company.”

Stepping into the doorway, Hard Note spotted Silver Varnish and immediately burst out laughing. “Oh, my. Have you paid her yet?”

“What?!” Spindle sputtered.

“That is not what this is,” Varnish said, scowling at the chuckling manager.

“Either way,” Hard Note looked back at Violet, his snicker fading and frown returning, “we can do this with or without him here.”

“Do what?” Violet asked, “I don’t understand what this is.”

“Your choice.” Hard Note shrugged, then stared her in the eyes. “One of my maids came through today to clean your room, same as the last few days. But you know what she didn’t find? Anything at all. No saddlebags, no bits, nothing. Not even the bed had been touched.”

Spindle tried to quell the rising panic, but her pounding heart refused to listen. “Okay? Why is that a big deal?”

“I asked around, too,” Hard Note continued. “None of my employees have ever seen you leave or come in with anything.”

She opened her mouth to speak.

“That means,” he interrupted, “that you probably don’t have any bits on you. Bits that would be mine in a few days.”

“N-no,” Spindle stammered, “I have a friend, she’s sending me bits. They’re in the mail, right now!”

Hard Note laughed mirthlessly. “If I had a bit for every time I heard that, I wouldn’t be running this place.”

“What are you going to do if she can’t pay?” Silver Varnish spoke up.

“Why? Are you gonna pay for her stay?” Hard Note said, then cut Varnish off, scowling at Spindle again. “It doesn’t particularly matter, though. I’ve been in this business for a long while. This place didn’t start out like it is now, but you take what life gives you. And Miss Mural, life has given me quite a few things over the years.

“So, trust me when I say I know what a pony on the run looks like.”

Hard Note’s voice faded out, Spindle’s vision tunneling. She just got here and already everything was collapsing around her. What did I do? I maintained all my disguises, I found a source, I found a place to stay. Why can’t I get things right?

“…be wrong though.”

She forced herself to focus back on Hard Note, trying to keep her breathing under control and her emotions in check. Come on. Be like Firefly. You can handle this.

“Tell me,” the manager began again, “who’s the pony that’s sending you these bits?”

“My friend, Peppermint Spice, over in Manehattan. We were close friends a while back.”

“Interesting.” The frown still hadn’t left Hard Note’s face. He turned halfway around. “Hey, Dew.”

Spindle’s eyes were drawn to a mare peeking around the doorframe.

“Yeah, boss?”

“Give me that letter we got today.” He held his hoof out and the mare’s horn lit, a letter floating into his hoof. He turned back to Violet, looking down at the envelope. “Says here it’s to a Violet Mural. But the funny thing is, it’s from an Ivory Swirl.”

Ivory? Her eyebrows shot up and her heart began racing. But they only use that when the hive won’t respond. She took a step forward. “T-That’s her roommate. Can I have it? Please?”

He held it out to her. “It’s your mail.”

Grabbing it in her magic, she tore the side off and pulled out the letter. She flipped it open and began reading.

Dear Violet,

I’m really sorry to hear you’ve run into hard times. Unfortunately, Peppermint is out for the moment, so I’m writing in her place. We’ve also had some difficulties come up in our lives. I’m sorry to say, but neither of us have anything to give you right now and I don’t know any of her friends over there, if she has any.

Again, I’m so sorry. Maybe you could try some of your other friends from your last town?

I truly wish you the best and hope you can find someone to help you.

Your friend,

Ivory

Spindle blinked in disbelief at the letter. Had there been no pheromones on the letter, she’d have thought it was intercepted. But it was the real thing.

The hive’s not coming. What happened? Why couldn’t the courier get anything from the hive? Did the wedding really go that badly? Answers would not come, but as she lowered the letter, she saw the impatient hoof tapping of Hard Note.

Putting the letter back in the envelope, she set it aside on the nightstand. Her eyes turned back to Hard Note’s furrowed brow. “S-she said Peppermint was out and they couldn’t spare anything.”

“Is that so?” he asked, a smugness tinging his voice. “Real convincing story, that. Then it looks like we have a little dilemma on our hooves, haven’t we?”

“No!” Spindle blurted, shaking her head. “I know somepony else. I’m sure they’ll be able to help me out!”

“Then why didn’t you send them the letter in the first place?” Hard Note’s frown deepened. “See, this is the kind of thing that ponies say when they’re trying to buy time. Except they usually have nothing to purchase it with. So, here’s how this is going to work. You’re going to come with me down to the guard station.”

“I don’t think you have the authority to do that,” Varnish piped up. “Only guards can make arrests.”

Spindle peered over at Varnish. She’d kind of forgotten he existed for a bit, but a tiny shred of hope fluttered at his unexpected defense.

“Look, prissy boy,” Hard Note glared at him, “if she’s a criminal, the guard will thank me. And if not, the worst I’ll get is a slap on the fetlock.” Hard Note shrugged, then craned his head back. “Hey, you two!”

Spindle’s eyebrows rose in surprise when the unicorn mare from earlier and a broad shouldered stallion peeked around the corner.

“Yeah?” the mare asked.

Hard Note turned back to Varnish, pursing his lips and raising an eyebrow. “So, you gonna be an accessory to a criminal?”

“Aheh, ah. No, not at all.” Varnish waved his hooves in submission. “Please, she’s all yours.”

The shred of hope lit ablaze by his audacity, burning into flames of anger in Spindle’s heart.

“Excellent.” Hard Note backed out into the walkway looking to either side of the doorway. “Go ahead you two. We’re gonna take miss Violet on a little night trip.” He stepped out of sight.

Surprise forced Spindle back several steps, the more-hulking-than-she’d-realized earth pony stallion entered, the mare following behind.

Spindle couldn’t go to the station. They’d torture her and make her tell them everything and the ponies would kill all the changelings and it would all be her fault!

She couldn’t. She wouldn’t! I won’t allow it! I’ll die before I let that happen!

Her anger flared even brighter, igniting into fury. Wavy Palette’s horrible timing, Varnish’s continued betrayal, Hard Note forcing her to run again. Her own ineptitude. They all swirled inside her, growing into a bonfire of rage.

The hammering of her heart faded away and she set her jaw. She took one final glance at Silver Varnish, the worthless creature having retreated into the corner. She locked eyes with him and gave him what she hoped was the most vile, hate filled look he’d ever received.

Green fire overtook her body.

The surprise on his face and sudden terror in his heart as his gaze rose to meet hers was like candy to Spindle. She would have loved to savor it and wring more from him, prove to him how accurate his paintings truly were.

But there were more pressing matters.

She faced the hulking pony, the stallion’s hooves frozen in place, staring wide eyed at the massive Bobby Pin now before him.

Spindle channeled love into her magic and picked the stallion up, throwing him aside, his body cracking the wall and falling limply to the bed. She turned her hate filled gaze to the now terrified mare, taking two steps forward and looking down at the little filly. An acrid stench filled the room and Spindle nearly jeered at the puddle forming between the unicorn’s hindlegs.

“Move.”

The mare squeaked and tried to step aside, but slipped and fell in her own mess.

A mere eye roll was all Spindle deigned to give her and stepped over the prone mare, ducking under the doorway.

She looked left and enjoyed the shocked face of Hard Note. "If I ever see you again, you’ll wish you never owned this motel.”

Spindle faced forward and green flames flashed on her back, wings forming upon it. She hopped over the safety rail and channeled love magic into her legs. Her hooves slammed hard into the cobblestone below, leaving a wide divot in the ground.

She leaped into the air, flying up and off into the night.

Faster and faster she flew, rage fueling her. She raged at the worthless stallion she wasted her time on. She raged at the greedy owner. She raged at her own inability.

The faux alicorn took a deep breath and screamed. She screamed at the world for being so cruel. At ponies for taking everything! At her own worthlessness!

Every bit of herself she poured into the scream until she finally had nothing left. Her yell died off and she gasped for breath, her wings slowing, refusing their continued abuse. Tears formed and were torn away as the wind whipped past her.

It was cold, she realized, and she was tired. She looked down and gasped as she realized just how high she’d gotten. Only a few lights speckled far below and she flapped to a stop. Twisting her body around, she gaped at the distant city lights far behind.

Shock at what she’d done ran through her and sheer fatigue washed over her, the adrenaline fading from her system. She panted, fighting to keep her eyes open. All at once, she realized she wanted nothing more than to sleep.

The very idea was enough to force her eyes closed. Only for a couple seconds, she reassured herself. Only a couple seconds.

Cold air flowing along her body felt so wonderful. All of a sudden, the wind picked up and it made her smile. It blew hard across her side, then back, then straight at her face. It reminded her of the artificial underground wind tunnels back in the hive.

Many times as a young nymph she’d gone into them, loving the feel of air rushing past her. Smiling, she remembered how she’d close her eyes and imagine she was outside, flying through the dark night. Months later, she’d snuck out of the hive and took to the black, starry sky.

She instantly fell in love with it.

That night, everything was wonderful. The way the moon shone off the desert sand and how the stars twinkled above was breathtaking. The plants, the hills, the rocks, they were all simply... below.

She’d made a vow then. She promised she’d get out of the hive one day and see the world from more than just stolen picture books.

Her smile soured as her excursion’s swift end came to her, unbidden. The gust that threw her young body. She’d hit the ground a moment later, cracking her carapace and tearing a wing. The pain was overwhelming. Quietly whimpering, she forced herself to make as little noise as she could, lest a wandering pony find her. A hive patrol found her hours later.

Spindle didn’t like remembering that part.

So she didn’t.

Instead, she breathed in the cold, rushing air.

And she smiled, basking in the ever shifting wind.

Her smile slowly faded. Something was off. She wasn’t outside the hive, was she? She was in Hoofington. No, she was...

Spindle gasped and her eyes flew open. She flailed, the air rushed around her tumbling body and the ground came into and went out of view.

She pushed a wing one way and tumbled even faster. She pushed another, barely managing to slow her spin. Again and again she twisted and turned until one shove nearly brought her back into control. Another twist and she was upright.

With as much of herself as she could, she poured love magic into her wings and flared the massive appendages, flapping hard. Her teeth clenched and eyes squeezed shut, the pain from resisting so much force shooting through her muscles.

Flap after agonizing flap, she kept pushing magic to her wings and finally, she slowed down. The exertion tore gasps from her throat and she felt herself finally slow to a hover. She opened her eyes and looked down, the ground had finally stopped a mere half dozen meters away.

She glanced around and saw houses scattered along a street a short ways away. Turning and following the moonlit road with her eyes, a streetlamp to the side caught her eye. In its illuminating light with but a single house’s yard between her and it, a flat roofed building stood. Long shadows were cast from the roof’s raised edges and the tall sign atop it.

Safety, was all she could think.

Slowly, she flew over to it, wincing from the effort of her strained wings.

Halfway there, she gasped and faltered, her right wing nearly giving in. Quickly righting herself again, she set her jaw and groaned deep as she pushed herself harder.

“Come on. Just a little further,” she hissed through her clenched teeth. Her eyes locked onto the ever closer roof edge. “Come on!”

Finally, she passed over the building and clipped her hind hoof on the ledge, sending her tumbling down. The roof greeted her side with a loud thud, and a pained cry wrest itself from her. She scrambled, trying to get onto her haunches, but merely managed to push herself around. Wriggling, she got a foreleg under herself and pushed, grunting from the effort.

Her head abruptly rolled as the world began to wobble beneath her. She tried to sway against the twisting, turning roof, but blackness crept into her vision and her leg gave out.

Blinking hard did nothing to clear her spinning double vision. Through the haze, she made out the big sign’s supports, barely illuminated by the streetlamp. She pushed and pawed, sliding her heavy alicorn body along the dirty rubber roofing towards the meager cover.

Pathetic groans escaped her as her legs pressed and slipped and raked at the roof. The streetlamp soon disappeared behind the sign. A few more hard shoves and she felt the raised ledge tap against her back. Her limbs fell still and she let loose a deep grunt.

Safe. The word rang out in her dizzy, fading mind. Safe.

Blackness was everywhere and a ringing filled the void.

There was nothing else and that ringing noise made no sense. Why wasn’t anyone turning it off? They couldn’t be bothered, apparently.

Without warning, the darkness disappeared.

In its place were strangely angled wooden beams and scattered leaves along a black, speckled ground. Light shone brightly upon it all, but everything lacked color.

For a long moment, it remained that way and it soon grew confusing, then annoying. Why isn’t this pony getting up? Come on, get up!

Nothing.

Wind picked up and blew about the leaves, rustling along the ground. Maybe they liked listening to the sound of leaves on the wind? Except they could have chosen a far better place than wherever this was.

Plus, that ringing made it entirely unenjoyable. No sign of where it was coming from, either.

Really? No one wants to watch someling look at a bunch of nothing.

Still no answers.

More seconds passed and finally the ringing started dying down. The sounds in her ears became sharper and the colors slowly returned to her sight. Finally, why wouldn’t they—

”HUAAGH!” Spindle cried out, fierce pain clawing deep in her chest and she curled in on herself. Her teeth ground together, her eyes clenched shut, whines forced their way from her throat.

The clawing turned to squeezing and she kicked her hind legs, trying desperately to get away from the agony. Squeezing turned to pulling and she choked on her whines. She kicked and pressed and clenched, but long moments passed and the pain flowed between the opposing torturous sensations.

She gasped as, finally, the torment lessened. The pain turned to a deep, empty, gaping hole in her chest and her weary, straining muscles gave out. She was left sprawled on her side, gasping for breath on the rooftop.

Relaxing her clenched eyes, Spindle slowed her breathing until it was mere deep breaths, in and out. She dared open her eyes and was greeted by the same dark, leaf covered roof with wooden beams bolted down, leading behind her. She took one final deep breath and rolled onto her belly.

Shakily, she pushed herself up onto all fours, but fell to her haunches when the dizziness overcame her. She braced herself and waited it out, taking more shaky breaths until the world stopped spinning.

Spindle sat there for a moment longer, taking in the place around her. The midday light shone above her, casting short shadows along the roof. At the bottom of her vision, blue caught her eye. She looked down and saw the familiar light blue leg.

It all came back to her.

She covered her head in her forelegs and whined. The play, Silver Varnish’s betrayal, the motel owner, her rage.

A gasp tore itself from her and her eyelids flung open, leaving her staring wide-eyed at nothing. Dread filled her as she realized what she’d done.

Her love.

She held a leg against the deep, aching hole in her chest. The amount of love she’d thrown away the night before left her dumbfounded. Without a single thought, she’d burned through it. Her mind went blank and she couldn’t even think of how little she must have left.

Tears began forming and she shook her head, not willing to let them take her. It didn’t matter how little she had left and trying to consider how long it would last her was a fruitless effort.

Come on, get your head about you, her thoughts fell back to her training. First thing after finding safety is to ensure you have a proper disguise.

Last night left her in a Celestia-sized Bobby Pin. That had to go.

Okay, colors, think. She squinted and tried to come up with something. The color wheel came to mind, but where the colors were escaped her. Complements and triadics and analogues were words and she knew their meanings, but all the colors shifted and blended about on the wheel.

Blue’s complement is… red? No, green? After yellow is… is… I don't remember!

Huffing, she realized her meticulous methods weren’t going to work. Taking a deep breath, she risked slowly standing on all fours again. Relieved that the dizziness mostly stayed away, she loosed the air from her lungs and meandered over towards the roof’s edge.

She looked out along the sparsely populated land. A small cluster of interspersed houses surrounded the building below her, which she assumed was a store of some sort. Further out was a park with a playground and a couple more store-like buildings and beyond that was farmland as far as she could see.

Few ponies were out. It was the middle of the day and she considered herself lucky most ponies were probably busy working.

Remember, disguise. Don’t get distracted. Focus. Spindle looked around for anything that could provide her inspiration. Trees and grass and houses were all over, but those colors hardly made for good disguises.

Splashes of color caught her eye in the edge of her vision. Turning towards the rear of the store, she saw a bed of flowers in somepony’s backyard. The most prominent plant was a big bush full of yellow, orange, and red flowers. Marigolds, if I remember them right.

She shrugged. It was better than nothing.

Closing her eyes, she envisioned a winged body of orange, mane of cherry red, and beautiful yellow irises. A cutie mark of three yellow marigold flowers in a pot. She kept the idea in her head, let it solidify. Certain she had it exactly right, green flames encompassed her.

Her entire body seized and she fell down, a gargled scream boiling up from her throat. The claw within her had grown impatient and tore chunks from her heart. Hooves dug at her chest, trying desperately to rid herself of the sharp, burning agony.

Moments passed and far sooner than the last bout, the pain lessened to a dull squeezing. She relaxed the jaw she hadn’t remembered clenching and flopped her legs back to the roof. Laying there, staring at the roof’s side raised ledge, she chuckled mirthlessly. It wasn’t a matter of how much love she had.

There simply isn’t any left. Or at least so little that it barely matters.

Never had she felt or seen it happen, but she knew what came next. Her body would start tearing itself apart, everything inside her fighting to fuel themselves. Soon enough there wouldn’t be enough love to go around and her organs would start shutting down.

She sighed deeply, pushing herself upright and ignoring the aches in her limbs.

It didn’t matter then.

Finally, she’d screwed up so bad that there was no coming back from it. No love crystals, no pony to give her love, and no changelings to come to her rescue. Her body was so weak, even if she wanted to drain a pony, a shove was all it would take and she’d be flopping uselessly on the ground.

Looking herself over, a half smile made its way onto her face. She was pleased to see her transformation worked right, even her cutie mark.

Fatigue swept over her and her musings were cut short. She hadn’t realized how tired she was.

I want to sleep, but I refuse to be here when it happens. I wanna be somewhere else, somewhere nice.

Spindle shook her head and blinked her vision clear. Not yet. Not on a dirty roof. She spread her wings and crouched down before taking off. The claw suddenly tore more of her heart and she gasped. She quickly realized the world wasn’t getting further away. Her eyes grew wide as she looked down at the ground coming to meet her.

Flapping only slowed her and she cried out, her hooves striking the hard ground. Shocks ran up her legs and into her shoulders even as the deep pain from her chest lingered. But she clenched her jaw and pushed through it, standing straight. Even so, she stayed still for a long moment, trying to will the hurt away.

Wiping away the moisture that had formed in her eyes, she took a step, then another, then another. She stumbled and flailed her legs forward, barely managing to catch herself. Come on. You can do this. Just one hoof in front of the other. Don’t think about it.

She kept her eyes forward and staggered ahead. Stepping a hoof out onto the sidewalk next to the store, she sluggishly peered left and right. Further down the road to the right she saw the park. It had pretty flowers and a waving brick walkway. Trees that would provide wonderful shade from the high sun. She smiled and thought it seemed like a rather nice place.

Slowly, she made her way. A stallion passed her on the sidewalk and gave her an odd look. She replied with what she hoped was a friendly smile. One block later, she crossed the road and entered the park.

It really was such a beautiful place. Whoever tended the park did so with such love and care. She stopped at the flowers along the side of the walkway and held one in her hoof.

Be thankful, little one, for someone loves you very deeply. She leaned down and inhaled deeply, nuzzling the flower. Pulling back, she gave it a sad smile. I’m glad at least one of us can boast such things.

Spindle looked back up and gazed down the park. Halfway down, atop a grassy hill stood a big oak tree. It was almost picturesque and it seemed like a wonderful place to… be.

Her walk continued, the smile never leaving her face. She passed beds of flowers, pretty wooden benches, and the playground, a few foals laughing and playing. Minutes later, she turned and walked up the hill, looking up at the leaves just beginning to turn from their lustrous green as fall neared closer.

At the hill’s peak, she set her hoof on the bark of the tree. Thank you. Thank you for being here. Though… I’m sorry if you aren’t liked much after today.

Taking a deep breath, she turned around and sat down, leaning against the oak. The vantage, even from the small hill, was beautiful. The sun had fully risen, shining down upon the land. Off in the distance, the tall buildings of Cincinneighti stood, its ponies no doubt bustling about.

Fatigue reared itself again and her eyes became very heavy and the tips of her hooves began to tingle. She wanted to sleep, but… she’d wait a little longer. She wanted to see as much of the world as she could, even if there wasn’t much left to see.

A strangled gasp broke through her smile and tears filled her eyes. She let the tears flow, no longer needing to hold them back. She wished for more, but life hadn’t seen fit to grant it to her. Morbidly, she wondered if she was going to be the first changeling to die of starvation in the middle of pony society. Tears rolled down her cheeks and she watched foals run and swing and chase each other in the playground while some adults sat off to the side.

Spindle’s face fell as she realized her selfishness.

The playground was right there. The foals would be able to see when she… left. Ponies may have been her enemy, but she never wished harm to anyone’s young. She leaned forward, but her legs refused to carry her again. She laid her head back against the tree and snorted, closing her eyes.

Even at the end, you couldn’t get things right.

She grunted, grimacing, the pain in her chest tore at her even more.

But graciously, the pangs began to fade and she watched as the gentle wind blew the grass and trees about. Pegasi flew, going off to do whatever the day held for them.

Her tears had dried up, she noticed. That was okay. She closed her eyes again and leaned back against the tree. Tears weren’t needed anymore.

Everything would be okay.

Relaxation flowed through her body. Her breathing slowed and she made herself grow still, trying to welcome sleep.

“Hey, miss? Are, uhm, are you okay?”

Spindle opened her eyes and blurry shapes filled her vision. A moment later, the haze grew clear and a little to her right, a cute little unicorn filly stood. The girl had pink fur and a cute amethyst mane done up in a ponytail. The poor thing didn’t even have her cutie mark yet.

“Miss?” The filly looked up at her with some of the most beautiful baby blue eyes Spindle had ever seen.

Ah, right. She asked a question. “Y—” The word caught in Spindle’s dry mouth. She swallowed and cleared her throat. “Yes, sweetie. I’m okay. Don’t worry about me.”

“Well, it’s just,” the filly began, looking down and kicking a hoof at the ground, “I saw you were crying and my momma says that it’s okay to cry. But after we’re done, we should be strong and put on a big smile, ‘cause it won’t be bad forever.”

The concern and kindness pouring from the filly was delicious and she ate up every bit of it. Spindle couldn’t help but giggle. “Your mommy must be a very smart lady.”

“Uh huh!” She frantically nodded her head, a big grin on her face. “She’s the smartest pony in the whole world!”

Her baby blue eyes were filled with such mirth and youthful energy, Spindle couldn’t help being a little jealous.

“Ruby, dear!” an amber colored pegasus mare called, walking up from behind the filly. “Who are you talking to?”

The filly apparently named Ruby spun around, her smile still every bit as strong. “Hi mommy! I’m talking to… uhh,” she turned back around, sheepishly looking up at Spindle, “what was your name, miss?”

Spindle couldn’t help but laugh, as weak as it was. The innocence of foals was something to be treasured. “My name’s Marigold.”

Ruby turned back to her mother as she arrived at the filly’s side. “I was telling Miss Marigold that she should try smiling because she was crying.”

The mare stopped next to her daughter and sighed, but offered her filly a kind smile. “Sweetheart, you need to be careful what you say. It can hurt other pony’s feelings to talk about them like that.”

“Oh.” Ruby’s smile instantly dropped off her face and she sat down, looking away.

“It’s okay, sweetie. You didn’t know. I’ll explain it to you later, okay?”

“Okay,” Ruby mumbled.

The mare looked back at Spindle. “Sorry about that.”

“It’s perfectly okay.” Spindle put on a friendly smile, though it seemed tired, even to her. She looked at Ruby. “My feelings weren’t hurt at all. Okay Ruby?”

“Are you sure?” the filly asked, a sad look on her face.

“Absolutely, and it’s wonderful to meet you, Miss Ruby. And this is your mommy?” She glanced up at the filly’s mother.

Ruby jumped to her hooves, instantly brightening up. “Yeah! Miss Marigold, this is my mommy.”

The mother chuckled at the filly. “That’s right,” she said, then looked to Spindle. “My name’s Bright Resin and this here is Ruby Sunrise.”

“It’s nice to meet you,” Spindle returned her smile, “and your filly is very kind and thoughtful.”

“Thank you.” Bright Resin wrapped a hoof around her daughter and planted a kiss on her head. “I’m always ever so proud of my little Sunrise.”

“Mooom!” Ruby protested and struggled, falling out of her mother’s grip.

Spindle appreciated the kindness that flowed from both of them. It was refreshing, though it would do little in the end.

“Say,” Bright Resin spoke up, “Ruby and I were about to head home for some lunch and you look like you could use a nice meal. Would you like to join us?”

It was true, she hadn’t eaten anything since the night before, but there didn’t seem to be much point. “No, that’s okay, I was about to leave soon anyway.”

“Please, I insist. I would love to have you over for lunch.”

Spindle merely looked at her for a moment. The concern still trickling from the mare said she wasn’t suspicious. Plus, there’s no way a mother like her would do anything to put her daughter in danger.

“Alright, sure,” Spindle acquiesced.

“Perfect!” Bright Resin sat back and clapped her hooves. She then turned to her daughter “Sweetie, we’re going to have Miss Marigold over for lunch. Would you like to go have lunch now?”

“Yeah! I’m hungry!” Ruby said, bouncing up and down.

“Well, that settles it.” Bright Resin smiled back at Spindle. “Are you ready to go?”

“Hm.” Their bits of concern and kindness had given her a little energy back. She wasn’t sure how long it would last her, but she felt like a walk wouldn’t be too much trouble. “Yes, I think I’m good.”

Leaning forward, Spindle put her forelegs on the ground and pushed off with her hinds. She wobbled only a little before she found her balance. Smiling, she looked over at the mother. “Ready to go, Miss Resin.”

She batted a hoof at Spindle. “Oh, please. I’m not that old. Call me Bright.”

“Sure, Miss Bright.”

“Just Bright.” She gave Spindle a look before softening. “Now then, let’s go. Our house is only a couple of blocks away.”

Spindle followed as Bright turned and walked down the hill. The gaping hole in her chest seemed to be satisfied for the moment. It was by no means gone and it still seemed larger and emptier than she’d ever felt it before, but the claw was no longer rending her heart apart.

“So, tell me, Miss Marigold,” Bright spoke up, the three reaching the park’s main path, “what brings you to the farming commune of Cincinneighti? We don’t get a lot of visitors out here.”

“Honestly, I was just passing through,” Spindle began, glancing at the flower she’d greeted on the way in. “I’d stopped at Cincinneighti for a few nights before deciding it wasn’t for me.”

“I see.” She slowed down and took stride at Spindle’s side. They watched Ruby run through the park’s grass ahead of them. “Don’t run off too far, Ruby!”

“Okay, Mommy!” She called back.

“You know,” Bright said, glancing at Spindle, “There’s not much beyond here except farmland and grassy hills. You won’t find much but little communities before you hit the mountains to Manehatten.”

“I, uh,” Spindle wasn’t planning on having to defend herself on this little trek, “I wanted to see some of nature before I left.”

“Ah. And where were you heading to next?”

“I’m… not really sure. I hadn’t figured that out yet.” She hoped that would be enough for Bright. Her mind wasn’t in the best place and she didn’t have the energy to come up with a story.

“Right. Well, wherever you go, I’m sure you’ll do well.”

“Yeah, me too.”

Silence filled the space between them and they turned onto the main road’s sidewalk. Bright called Ruby over to join them, but it only registered in passing.

There wasn’t really anywhere to go. No place came to mind where she would be safe, certainly not one she could make it to. With no bits and no love, there were few options. None of them ended happily.

“Miss Marigold?” Ruby asked, breaking Spindle from her thoughts.

“Yes, Ruby?” She looked to the filly between her and the filly’s mother.

“Why is your fur so dirty?”

“Ruby,” Bright Resin gently admonished, “Do you remember when we talked about being sensitive to other ponies?”

“Yes…” Ruby shrunk into herself, looking at her mother morosely.

“That wasn’t a very sensitive thing to say.”

“Oh,” Ruby said simply, the word hanging between them.

“Ruby…” her mother trailed off.

“Oh, uh,” the filly looked back at Spindle. “I’m sorry, Miss Marigold.”

“It’s okay.” Spindle offered her a smile.

“Thank you, sweetheart.” Bright smiled down at Ruby as well. “You did a good job.”

Silence reigned for only a few more seconds. “Mommy? What are we having for lunch?”

“Hmm, do you have any preferences, Marigold?”

“Not really,” Spindle replied. “Anything is fine.”

“Alright. How about some nice Daffodil sandwiches? I think I have some leftover bean soup, too. Does that sound good?”

“Yeah! Mommy’s bean soup is the best!” Ruby beamed up at Spindle.

“I bet it is.”

“And what do you know, this is us!” Bright held a hoof down a walkway leading to a small home.

It was a little old, but by no means uncared for. “It’s a lovely home, Bright.”

“Thank you,” she said, leading them along the stone walkway between two long beds of flowers. “A lot of work has gone into this home and I’m very proud of what we’ve managed to do with it.”

Bright Resin reached the front door and opened it, entering and holding it. Ruby excitedly ran through and Spindle followed after.

Inside was well decorated and Spindle admired the very cozy, open living room. A couch and a loveseat sat next to a pretty fireplace on the far wall while toys laid scattered between them. A wide window with beautiful drapes sat on the front wall and two large pictures hung opposite of it.

“This way to the kitchen,” Bright called, heading straight down the hallway beyond the front door.

Spindle followed and peered at the pictures in the hall. Many had both Bright and Ruby in them, but a couple had Bright with a stallion as well. A husband, perhaps? Could I maybe replace one of them? I know nothing about them, but if I could fool them for even a few days, it might be enough for me to move on.

“Alright! Feel free to have a seat. Daffodil sandwiches and soup coming right up!” Bright said brightly.

Spindle walked to the left side of the eat-in kitchen and sat down on the far side of the table, next to the back door.

“Hey! That’s where mommy always sits.”

“It’s okay, she can sit there,” Bright interjected, then turned to her daughter. “Ruby, sweetie?”

Ruby paused her climb into the seat next to Spindle and looked back at her mother. “Yeah?”

“Do you think you could go play in your room for a little bit?”

“Why?” Ruby asked, turning around and tilting her head at her mother.

“I’d like to have a little grown up talk with Miss Marigold. I’ll call you when lunch is ready, okay?”

Ruby gave a little disappointed groan. “Okay.” She turned and headed for the hallway.

“Please close your door too, sweetie!”

“Okay!” A few seconds later came the sound of a door shutting.

Bright Resin turned to Spindle, giving her an appraising look. “You know, Ruby’s not the only one who noticed. I’m sorry for saying it, but you really do look like a mess.”

Spindle had no idea what to even say to that. “Yeah. I know,” she sighed. If she couldn’t even think up a halfway decent story about how her fur got the way it was, what hope did she have in replacing Bright?

“You don’t have any friends nearby, do you? I doubt you’d be here if you did.”

Marigold looked down at the table and shook her head. “No. I, um, I lost my job in another city and the relationship with my coltfriend was already in a bad way. We broke up soon after. Eventually I left and came here to Cincinneighti, but I’d already lost everything.”

She looked up as Bright Resin came towards her and smiled, the mare putting a hoof on her shoulder.

Looking back at the table, Marigold continued. “I lost my saddlebags a few days ago, along with the last few bits I had.” She chuckled and tears began filling her eyes. “Couldn’t pay, so I got kicked out of my motel, too. I didn’t know what to do or where to go, so I just… went.”

Spindle didn’t know why she was telling her all this. It was almost exactly what happened, minus a few small details. Lies mixed with truth were good, but too much truth led to bad things.

“I know what that’s like, to be at the bottom,” Bright said.

Spindle’s eyes were drawn back up to the other mare.

Bright continued. “I was there once, several years ago. Back then, before it all happened, I was a bit of a floozy. All I wanted was to have fun and party. Dance clubs and bars were my kind of place and I’d be there every night. Not long after, I ran out of money, so I took out a loan, figuring I could cut back on the partying and pay it back with my meager waitress wages.

“Well, a month later and I need another loan. Soon after, the restaurant got tired of my terrible work ethic and booted me. Of course, my coltfriend at the time got upset and I broke up with him after a fight. I hadn’t really thought it through, so when it dawned on me that it was his place, I bawled and tried to get him to take me back, but the damage was done and out I went.”

Bright looked into Spindle’s eyes and smiled sadly. “I had nothing, but even worse, I found out I was pregnant a couple weeks later. I knew it was dangerous to do it during estrus, but all I could think about was fun, fun, fun.”

She snorted. “Life became a lot less fun after that and I wandered the streets of Cincinneighti for a few months until one day, some stranger told me they could help. It wasn’t about just me anymore, so I grabbed onto that rope with all I had and with the help of a group of ponies, I clawed my way out.

“It wasn’t easy, starting over. In fact, it was downright grueling,” she put a hoof on Spindle’s, “but it is possible. Marigold, I’d like to offer you that same chance. I know ponies that can help. You don’t have to do this alone.”

Spindle’s eyes darted back and forth between both of Bright Resin’s, searching for some hidden truth.

But she found none. She looked away, back down to her hooves in her lap.

The sheer exhaustion from earlier was starting to return. It didn’t matter how many ponies there were to help. Even if there was a pony out there, willing to give the love she so desperately needed, it would come far too late.

She was… she was going to… but she didn’t want to. She wanted to live!

A choked sob broke out of her throat. It didn’t matter! None of it mattered! She cursed the stupid, worthless tears running down her cheek.

“Oh, sweetie.”

Bright wrapped Spindle in a tight hug and the dam broke. Strained wimpers grew into a bawl and she couldn’t hold it back.

“Oh, honey.” Bright Resin held her, rocking Spindle’s shaking body back and forth. “It’ll be okay. Shh, it’ll be okay.”

Through the haze of her emotions, she felt it.

That deep pool of compassion and kindness. It opened itself to her and Spindle drank. She drank and drank and it wasn’t enough. Her cries died down and her mind went blank except for one word.

More.

Dimly, she felt a tight squeeze and then nothing. Unknown words came from something at her side. Her body slowly turned and there, in front of her, was a creature, the source of her nectar.

Abruptly, the nectar disappeared.

She did not appreciate that.

“More,” a voice said.

The creature in front of her uttered some noises and took a step back. The pool was back and she drew deeply from it. Her face twisted and she spat at the vile taste.

“No! Give me more!”

A green flash filled her vision and the creature took more steps back. Unacceptable. She drew closer to it and it turned.

She pounced.

It was on its back and she was standing over it. It was thrashing and yelling, but she did not care. She darted forward and seized the thing’s neck in her fangs.

A moment later, it grew still.

She drew back from the thing and her instincts took over. Her mouth opened, her horn glowed, and she found the creature’s heart, its emotions and feelings.

And she tore.

The thing gurgled, rich sweetness flooding from it, and she drank once more. She drank and drank from its fountain. Moments passed and the flow slowed to a trickle.

So she tore again.

More came, but it was a pitiful amount.

She tore again and—

A piercing shriek filled the room.

Thoroughly annoyed, she stepped off the unmoving thing and turned. Another, smaller creature was facing her, a few strides away.

Another creature.

Another.

Fresh.

“More…”

She pounced.

In an instant, the other creature was beneath her, pinned to the floor. It cried and struggled, but it was fruitless. She looked down, green fluid dripping from her fangs onto the thing’s tear ridden face.

It pleased her.

To see those eyes filled with fear. She wanted to savor it. For how much they hurt her. She hissed at it and licked at its neck, enjoying it as the thing pointlessly tried even harder to curl up.

Then they opened again. Those terrified eyes. Those terrified, baby blue eyes. It gave her such great pleasure to see those blue eyes… baby blue.

Beautiful baby blue eyes.

Spindle gasped and jumped off the filly.

The poor girl scampered away into the far corner, sobbing and rubbing her forelegs.

What… What did I do?

“Ruby, I…” She took a step forward.

She stopped dead when the cries turned into shrieks and the filly kicked at the floor, pushing herself harder into the wall.

Spindle backed away and hit something soft. She looked behind her and gaped. The body of Bright Resin lay there. The body she just drained.

“I didn’t… I didn’t mean to,” she blubbered, staring at the motionless body. “I didn’t. I-I couldn’t have…”

The sound of hooves on tile drew her attention. She turned, watching as Ruby jumped at the back door, fiddling with the doorknob.

Spindle reached out a hoof in her direction. “Ruby, please, wait. I’m sorry, I didn’t—”

The filly did not wait and a second later, the lock clicked, the door burst open, and the filly fled.

She stared and slowly lowered her hoof. Her brain would not work, couldn’t comprehend what happened. One second she was bawling, the next… she was tearing love from Bright.

Then she’d been interrupted by the mare’s daughter. In return she nearly…

Her eyes squeezed shut, trying not to think about what would have happened to little Ruby. Foals’ minds weren’t as strong as a grown pony’s. They couldn’t handle it. When they had their love drained, they almost always died. Training had hammered it into them over and over.

No foals. Never. Their goal was to gather love, not kill. Changelings weren’t monsters.

Except I just became one.

Spindle fiercely shook her head. “No! I didn’t! I stopped and she got away. She’s fine. She… got away.”

It suddenly dawned on her. The filly got away.

She gasped. The filly got away! I have to get out of here!

“I’m sorry,” she said one last time to the unmoving mare and shot down the hallway, transforming back into Marigold. Spindle pulled open the front door and quickly looked back and forth. No sign of anypony. She ran out the door and took to the skies, flying back the way she came.

I need a new disguise! If Ruby found somepony and they see me, I’m done!

Spotting the park, she saw near the back side of it was a bunch of closely packed trees and she flew straight for it. From overhead, she saw a clearing in the middle.

She dropped directly into the clearing and landed hard on the ground. A pair of screams from behind shocked her and she flipped around.

A couple of foals stared at her, wide eyed.

“S-Sorry. I gotta, I… sorry!” Spindle turned and ran deeper into the trees. A few moments later, she reached the other end of the grove. Skidding to a stop, she looked around and behind her.

No pony in sight.

“Okay, Spindle. Think. New disguise. Right now!” She screwed her eyes shut, but nothing came to her. The stress flooded her and her mind shut down. The color wheel contained nothing. “Come on! Anything!”

Anything. Anything, even…

Green flames flowed over her again and out came Bobby Pin, once more. She flapped the wings on her back and touched her bare forehead. Good. A Pegasus. Okay, I need to go somewhere. Where do I go?

Tears of frustration filled her eyes and she stomped her hoof. I don’t know! I can’t stay here. I can’t go back to Hoofington. I can’t go anywhere! I want to go home!

She sniffled. I just want to go home.

Home.

Back to the hive. It was possible… but how could she? A collector that ran home? It would be like she was abandoning her duty, her purpose. Every collector was important, every one necessary. To turn her back on it…

But what else could she do? There were no resources. Nothing from the hive. Starting over in a new place simply wasn’t possible. Not without help.

Home. She couldn’t see another option.

So she took to the skies and went home.

Moonlit desert sand crunched under her paws. For hours, she’d been walking. First from the Dodge City train stop to the edge of the badlands. Then from the edge to the heart.

The hive was well hidden, deep in the badlands. Every changeling that left had to know how to get back, what to look for. Every one of them, no matter their caste. Before they were allowed to begin their role outside, they had it hammered into their head.

It was hammered so hard that even Spindle couldn’t forget how to find it.

And she was almost there.

She wanted to pick up speed, get her nearly three day journey over with, but she calmly walked on. The distance was made even greater by her coyote body. Coyotes weren’t but around three quarters the size of an average pony, but it was enough to make the trip noticeably longer.

Just ahead, she saw a familiar trio of rocks that marked one of the hive’s entrances.

Her canine body jumped in surprise as a shrill caw sounded directly above her. She looked up and saw a large, black raven swoop down, landing in front of her. It tilted its head and inspected her for a few moments. Spindle’s nose twitched at the pheromones filling the air and was glad she’d remembered to keep her glands in place.

“What caste are you with?” it suddenly spoke.

“I’m a collector,” Spindle said.

“Were you with the invasion army?”

She shook her head. “No. I was assigned to Hoofington, but was forced to run from the town.”

“Very well. Proceed to the throne room to see the queen.”

“W-what, the queen? But, why?”

“She requested any arriving changeling that was made to abandon their role see her as soon as possible.”

“Alright. Do you know why?”

“No. Please proceed to see her.” The patrolling changeling spread its small, raven wings and flew away.

With a deep breath she walked forward, entering the hive. A few meters in, she passed the guard coves, nodding stiffly to the disguised desert fox guards. Turning the first corner, she dropped her disguise.

Spindle fought to keep her panic under control. Never before had she met with the queen directly. Though she’d heard stories about changelings that made big enough mistakes. None of them were pleasant.

She probably wants to know why I abandoned my source and once she finds out what I did… She shuddered at the thought of what punishment she’d receive.

Through dimly lit, winding tunnels passing by and numerous fellow changelings rushing about, she arrived at the throne room’s outer hall. Two guards stood on either side of the door, covered in polished, blue armor.

She took a deep breath, and mentally steeled herself, trying to push nervousness away as best as she could. It wouldn’t do to stutter in front of the queen. Letting out the breath, she walked forward.

And their eyes snapped to her.

“What are you here for?” the guard nearest her asked.

“I’m a collector. I was told by a patrol outside that I needed to see her majesty upon arrival.”

“You were not at the wedding?”

“No, I wasn’t.”

“Please wait here.” He turned to the door. Knocking once, he opened it and entered, closing it behind him.

The minutes ticked by and the nervousness she’d bottled away oozed back out. She tried to keep her breaths steady and do the deep breathing trick they taught her in training. Keep it together. Queen Chrysalis is wise and just. Whatever she sees fit is what you deserve.

Finally, the door opened again and the guard stepped out, followed by a changeling without armor. The second changeling walked past Spindle without a word and the guard held the door open. “She will see you now.”

Spindle mentally cursed. In the back of her mind, she’d been hoping that maybe it was too late and she’d have to wait until the next day. She was dirty and tired and she cursed herself for not having cleaned up before seeing her.

She steeled herself again with another deep breath and walked forward through the open door. Inside it was brightly lit, several torches hung on the columns along either side of the room. A long, intricate pathway was cut in the stone, leading directly to the throne. On either side was a set of two guards and on the throne itself was Queen Chrysalis.

Desperately, Spindle ran through her neglected royal etiquette she’d never used. Until now.

Walk forward, approach the first step, bow, wait to be addressed. Walk forward, approach the first step, bow, wait to be addressed. Walk forward…

And suddenly she was at the first step. She bowed deeply, making sure not to look up until the queen said otherwise. Seconds passed and she grew nervous. Did I do something wrong?

“Rise,” Queen Chrysalis said, with much less force than Spindle had expected.

Her eyes rose with her body and she nearly gasped at the sight of her queen. Hardened, green opaque resin covered a portion of her foreleg and along her side, betraying the cracks in her carapace.

“What is your name, young one?”

“M-my name is Spindle, y-your majesty.” You idiot! I said no stuttering!

“Spindle,” the queen said slowly as if tasting the name. “One of the hive’s few collectors. Tell me, what happened that you would be standing here instead of with your fellow collectors?”

“Y-your majesty,” she swallowed, trying to get her nerves about her, “I was a Cincinnei—I mean, a Hoofington collector and I was forced from my role. M-my source discovered me because of my own stupidity a-and I ran. I didn’t know where to—”

“Spindle.”

Her queen’s voice rang out in the room and Spindle’s jaw immediately shut. She couldn’t keep the shiver out of her body, watching Chrysalis breathe deep and close her eyes for a short moment. Not a single emotion escaped from the monarch.

“Spindle,” her queen said softer, opening her eyes. “I am not here to pass judgement upon you. Right now, every single changeling is a precious resource. Hundreds of your brothers and sisters are still lost and unaccounted for. There are many things that I must be concerned with right now, and I need to know if the Hoofington changelings should be added to that ever growing list. Are they?”

“N-no, your majesty. I don’t believe so.”

“Spindle. Continually addressing me as such will get very tiring. Ma’am or simply answering will suffice after the first time. But, very well. Please answer my question. Why are you not with your fellow collectors?”

“I… had to run, your—m-ma’am. I was discovered and I left for a new town, like we were trained.”

“Perhaps I am missing something, then. When were you discovered?”

“The day after the wedding.”

“Ah. There it is.” Queen Chrysalis looked down upon her with… pity? “You must have been most unfortunate indeed to have been discovered so early. It makes me wonder if…” she sighed. “In any case, had you been there for one or two days longer, you would have received a letter sent in my stead. The letter would have instructed you to seek the help of your local collector community instead of pursuing a new city.

“For the time being, the hive has no resources to assist in relocating collectors. This includes sending new collectors out, or in your case, sending you back to Hoofington.”

Spindle bowed her head. “Yes, my queen. I understand.”

“I do not have time to listen to your entire story, but I would like to know if there were any significant impacts to the hive or yourself.”

“Y-yes, ma’am, there was.” Spindle nodded. “In order to escape in Cincinneighti, I was forced to change and was witnessed by both the stallion I was grooming to be my source as well as the motel manager.”

“Unless they were able to tie you to any other changelings or their locations, that is not a significant impact.”

“O-oh. I don’t think they were able to. I apologize, my queen.”

“Was there anything else?”

“Yes,” Spindle said. “There was one more thing. After I escaped in Cincinneighti, I had very little love magic left and I was forced to drain a pony. I… I don’t know if I killed her.”

Queen Chrysalis pursed her lips, humming at looking at Spindle for a long moment. “You don’t know? How faint was her love when you stopped drawing from it?”

“I, um, I don’t know.”

“Spindle,” Queen Chrysalis growled. “Are you saying that we sent an improperly trained collector into Equestria or were you simply not paying attention?!”

“N-no!” Spindle frantically sputtered. “I was trained! I know how to drain a pony! I… I don’t know what happened. One minute she was hugging and consoling me and the next I was standing over her, ripping her love out.”

Her queen sighed once again. “You went into a frenzy, then.”

“A… a frenzy, ma’am?” Spindle asked, trying to calm her hammering heart.

“How little love did you have left? Can you estimate for me?”

“I don’t think I had any left, your majesty.” Spindle looked down, unwilling to meet her queen’s eyes. “I’d passed out and when I woke up, it was so painful. I’d never felt anything like it.”

“My child,” Chrysalis said, the softness in her voice drawing Spindle’s eyes back to hers. “You weren’t at nothing, though you were very close. The pain you went through is something I would do anything to prevent my children from ever experiencing. Had you waited much longer before feeding, you would have begun to feel numb and then be led into a deep sleep you’d never awaken from.”

“I-I did, kind of. The pain went away and I couldn’t even cry anymore. I was so tired and I just wanted to sleep. I found a place and I did nearly fall asleep. But then that mare and her filly came up to me.”

Spindle watched as Queen Chrysalis closed her eyes and sat there, her body still. Seconds passed and she grew nervous. Did I say something wrong? Or was it something I did?’

Finally, her queen’s eyes opened and she looked sadly upon Spindle. “I am deeply sorry for what you went through, my child. You were truly at death’s door and I am grateful that you’ve returned to me. Do you know the name of the mare that you drained or her filly?”

Spindled nodded. “I do, ma’am. Her name was Bright Resin and her filly’s name was Ruby Sunrise. They live in a house near a park in Cincinneighti’s farming community.”

“Good. Thank you. I cannot offer any solace to whether you did end her life, but I do not hold you accountable for what occurred there. However, I will send a message to the Cincinneighti infiltrators to look into the situation. If you did kill her, we will need to track any investigations that follow.”

“R-right. Thank you very much, ma’am.” Spindle bowed her head deeply and relief flooded her at the pardon. That relief was quickly doused when she remembered what happened after. “But, your majesty, something else happened when I was in my frenzy.”

Queen Chrysalis simply raised an eyeridge. “Hmm?”

Spindle closed her eyes and swallowed. The shiver returned before she could contain it. She opened her eyes and looked directly into her queen’s, ready for what may come. “Ruby, Bright Resin’s filly, she interrupted me as I was draining her mother. In my frenzy, I was so angry and hungry and I pinned her down. She struggled and was so scared. I remember reveling in it. After I’d purposefully terrified her, I… I almost fed on her.”

The queen’s eyeridge lowered. “You almost fed on her.”

“Yes.” Spindle nodded again.

“But you didn’t.”

“No, ma’am.” Spindle shook her head, but quickly added, “But if I hadn’t been broken from the frenzy, I would have killed her!”

“But you didn’t,” Queen Chrysalis repeated.

“Well… no.” She searched her at her queen’s eyes, trying to decipher her meaning. In her frenzy, Spindle nearly broke one of the biggest rules of being a collector, yet the monarch in front of her didn’t care?

“Then I have no concern for this matter. If you had told me the filly followed you to another collector’s residence or overheard something vital regarding our operations, then it would be a different situation. Were there any other matters you needed to address?”

Spindle merely looked at her. She didn’t understand, it was a horrendous thing for her to have committed, even if she’d been interrupted. “But, I almost—”

“Do you seek to continue wasting my time?” Chrysalis boomed, making Spindle flinch back and feel ever more insignificant. “Just what are you looking for? Condemnation? I have far more grievous atrocities to deal with than one which carried no more consequence than mentally scarring a young filly! Now, if there was nothing else you had… had to re… port…”

Her queen trailed off and she shut her eyes tight, her uninjured forehoof barely rising from the ground. A nigh inaudible grunt only just gracing Spindle’s ears.

“My queen,” a guard at her side stepped forward, “are you alright? Should I fetch a nurse again?”

Queen Chrysalis’s eyes snapped open and she turned to him with a scowl, giving a harsh wave of her good leg. “I’m fine,” she huffed and turned her gaze back to Spindle and breathed deep, her glower melting to a sad frown. “Spindle, if it’s damnation you’re seeking, you’ll find none here and now. Had it been different and you’d intentionally attempted to drain that filly, you would be facing far more than my anger.

“We all make mistakes, Spindle. This is one I will not see you disciplined for.”

It didn’t feel right. She was going too easy on her and she deserved more, but grace was all she’d deigned to give her. Spindle bowed her head. “I… okay. Thank you, ma’am. I have nothing else to say.”

“Then I have need of your help, Spindle,” Queen Chrysalis said, her tone somber. “I cannot afford to have you sent out as a collector, but I have a more important task that I need to be done.”

“Y-your majesty!” Spindle nearly gaped in shock at her not-command. “Of course, anything you ask and I will do my best!”

Her queen nodded and gave her a small smile. “Thank you. Perhaps in time…” she paused for a short moment, but merely shook her head. “Right now, there may be dozens of injured changelings that were flung across Equestria. Many may soon be at the door you knocked upon. Some have already passed through it. To prevent any more needless death of my children, I have ordered search and rescue teams be assembled. Every hoof counts and I need you to assist them.”

“I will at once, my queen.” She bowed deeply.

“You may rise. General Elytra is organizing search efforts in the military halls. Please go see her.”

Spindle rose and began turning, but paused. Facing the throne, she bowed her head. “Thank you again, your majesty. For everything.”

An emotionless expression and a small nod was all she received in response.

Turning again, Spindle walked to the throne room’s door. She opened it and exited, hearing the stone door shut behind her. Nodding to the guards, she continued down the passageway and turned the corner.

The breath she was holding escaped her lips and she leaned against the wall, reeling from the experience. The queen was… nothing like she’d heard. Spindle had expected stern reprimands and harsh commands, and she certainly got some, but by the end she’d received a solemn apology and what amounted to a request.

She didn’t understand. Maybe… she’s tired and her wounds from the wedding were clouding her mind. She snapped at me a few times, but she was almost… nice.

It didn’t make any sense and she was more than a little afraid to ask anyling about it.

Spindle pushed off the wall and nodded to herself. Her queen gave her a request and she fully intended to see it through.

“I’ll be waiting for you.”

Firefly’s crafted smile nearly wavered at the pure sadness and despair that forced the tear from her husband’s eye.

“I… Okay. I’ll see you—” Fine Roast’s words caught in his throat.

Be strong. Be strong, Firefly. For him.

She so desperately wished she could offer him more comfort, wished they could have talked about what to do if ponies got too inquisitive. Instead, all she could do was hope the untrained stallion would be able to play his part, whatever that may be.

“Please come with us, ma’am,” Lieutenant Steel said, drawing her attention away from Roast.

Firefly nodded, fighting to keep her breaths steady, no matter how much her body told her to take a deep, calming breath. The lieutenant turned and she followed him to the door, the hoofcuffs forcing her to take short choppy steps. She clenched her jaw at the flood of anguish behind her as she stepped outside to the alleyway. There was nothing she could do about it.

Not a Chrysalis damned thing she could do for him.

“Okay, sergeant,” the lieutenant said, coming to a stop in front of a unicorn guard next to the carriage, “take her back to processing. I’ll come as soon as I’m done here.”

“Yes, sir.” The sergeant gave a sharp salute, only dropping it once Steel returned one of his own.

The lieutenant turned and walked back to the cafe, giving Firefly one last skeptical glance as he passed. She gave him a small smile and nod in return, but it did nothing to ease the suspicion flowing from inside him.

Her eyes were drawn back forward as the sergeant stepped over to the side of the carriage and pulled open the door. “Please step inside, miss.”

Firefly nodded and walked forward, taking her first step up. The familiar sound of the cafe door slamming shut behind her gave her pause. She turned her head, the sight of the shut door clenching her heart. Her lungs cared not for disguises and drew deep of their own volition as she was suddenly overcome with the regret of not having gotten one last look at him.

She slowly, quietly exhaled the deep breath and turned back to the carriage, taking the last step inside.

Sitting down at the back, she looked back to the door at the sergeant standing outside.

“Alright, ma’am,” the sergeant spoke, “sit tight. We’ll be leaving in a moment.”

Firefly nodded, the same pleasant, crafted smile on her face and watched as he shut the door with a clunk, another quieter clank sounding after.

She sat there, staring blankly at the door.

Noises, muffled talking, made their way through the carriage walls, but they were meaningless.

Breathing. Her own breathing. Not quite slow. More breaths.

Faster.

Her muzzle opened.

Panting.

Can’t stop!

“Oh sweet Chrysalis,” Firefly whispered, “what did I just do?”

She lifted her hooves and laid her head in them, her bonds rattling together.

How… How do I get out of this? I shouldn’t have gone with them, but there was nothing else I could have done! Ohhh what do I do?

The carriage jerked forward and a whimper escaped her lips before she could catch it.

Stop, she told herself and sat back, lowering her hooves back to her lap. Breathe, Firefly. Control yourself and think. Deep breath.

She closed her eyes and breathed in. One. Two. Three. Four. Five.

Exhale.

One more.

Another deep breath, held, and slowly let out. Shorter and shorter deep breaths left her before, finally, her breathing became manageable again.

Okay. She opened her eyes again. Now think. They’re trying to pin you as a changeling. How would they do that?

The lieutenant said they’d need both of us to come, so it had to be something that would involve us both. The only thing I’ve seen in the news is of the queen herself and a lot of those articles were focused on mind control. If they’re hoping to find me out with that, they’ll be sorely disappointed.

They couldn’t be banking on only that, though. What else? Firefly hummed softly for a moment before her brows furrowed and concern filled her. Memory spell? Do those even exist? Perhaps a truth-telling spell? Do those even exist? I really wish I knew more about magic.

Wait. A breath caught in her throat. They couldn’t have a… changeling detection spell, could they? It couldn’t be that simple, right?

If they were able to make a spell that found the difference between a pony and a changeling… she simply had to hope they didn’t, because if they did, there was no hope.

Okay. Alright. Let’s assume they don’t have a spell. What else could they do? The only other thing I can think of is to make sure I’m actually Sweet Leaf. Which shouldn’t be difficult at all, seeing as I made her.

Then… she let out a sigh, what do I do? If they have some other trick behind their flank and I get caught, I could end up being the one they use to develop a spell from. The damage that would do to the hive… it’s immeasurable.

So, then do I run? Do I escape or do I risk everything? Being in love doesn’t—can’t take priority over the hive. It can’t. The hive needs whatever secrecy it has left.

Were she any other changeling or if it were any other source, there wouldn’t even be a question. She’d run and that’d be it.

Though, what if I try to run and get caught anyway? I have enough love that I think I could manage it, but I can sense… she concentrated on the emotions around her for a short moment, only barely the two guards pulling the carriage. If they really did surround the cafe before my arrest, there’s got to be more following now.

She huffed and set her head against the back of the carriage. So there’s a chance I fail if I run and a chance I succeed if I stay. If I run now, Sweet Leaf is dead, but if I stay, she might live. And if Sweet Leaf dies, Roast and I…

Her brows furrowed. She leaned forward and frowned down at the floor. So concerned, she had been, about the hive and getting caught that she lost sight of why she was concerned in the first place.

She thought about it, about what leaving really meant. It meant she’d never see her husband again. She’d never enjoy another one of his iced Equestrianos. Never cook breakfast for him again. Never wake up on a Sunday morning, spending the first waking hour snuggling and basking in his warm love.

Never again.

Her stomach twisted itself and her mouth went dry. Her imagination couldn’t even begin to form such an idea.

Losing him would be utterly crushing, but could she afford to keep him? Who was she to put at risk, the love everyone said she wasn’t supposed to have or her queen and hive?

If I stay and somehow get out of this, I’ll be able to keep both. But escaping would undoubtedly keep the hive safe and it would mean… goodbye.

It was unfathomable. A life without his love. Without his…

Love. His love. Leaving him would hurt you, but what would it do to him? He was terrified when they came in and even more devastated when they took you. You told him it would all be okay. You promised him. You said you’d be waiting.

No. Firefly breathed in deep and steeled herself as the carriage slowed and made a hard turn, going up a little hill. This isn’t about just you anymore and you will not throw this away. You are better than them and you will find a way. The hive is important, but so is he.

He is important.

She took another deep breath and let it out, the well-crafted smile filling her face once again. It’s showtime, Sweet Leaf. Get ready for the most important part you’ll ever play.

Abruptly, the carriage came to a stop. A short moment later, the door clicked and popped open. A guard stood outside, his horn still lit.

“Alright, miss,” the guard said, sounding very similar to the sergeant from earlier, “please step out of the carriage and follow me.”

Sweet Leaf nodded and stood, stepping down the carriage’s two steps. Coming fully onto the cobblestone path she looked ahead at the sergeant, a little bit past him was a female guard. To the side, she noticed a fenced off area with several other guard carriages.

He and the mare turned and began walking to the building.

Sweet Leaf quickly stepped forward to follow, but yelped and stumbled from the short chain between the hoofcuffs on her forelegs.

“Careful!” a voice behind her said.

She quickly turned her head and saw two pegasi guards flying close to the ground. Further back behind the carriage stood two more unicorn guards. Sweet Leaf masked her surprise with a friendly smile.

“Thanks.” She wasn’t sure where they came from, but she bet her guess back in the carriage was right. They were probably part of the guards escorting her.

I’m doubly glad I didn’t decide to blindly run. Four unicorns and two pegasi would not have been fun to get away from. Roast might have made sure I have plenty of love, but I’m not certain it would have helped much against that.

Turning forward again, she saw the sergeant had stopped and was looking at her with a raised eyebrow. She gave him a sheepish smile. “Heh. I’m, uh, good. Forgot I had these things on.” Sweet Leaf lifted a hoof and shook it, jingling the hoofcuff chain.

“Alright.” He faced the building again and continued on towards the door marked Authorized Personnel Only.

Sweet Leaf followed the two guards up to the building, pausing as the mare pulled out a key and unlocked the door.

“Enter the building and walk forward.” The guardsmare directed, pushing the door open in her magic.

Nodding, Sweet Leaf continued inside into a small, almost hallway-like lobby with a mere wall mounted table and a single door on the far right. Her ears flicked back as a couple sets of hoofsteps followed in behind her, the door banging shut a moment later. From her right trotted the female guard, heading to the far door and unlocking it.

The mare looked back at Sweet Leaf and nodded her head to the door. “Walk straight through the door and go through the first door on your right.”

Again, Sweet Leaf did as she was told and continued on through the door, entering at the corner of a hallway. As she continued straight, she eyed the hall to her left and raised an eyebrow at the short hall with what appeared to be three barred holding cells on either side and a single barred door at the end.

Looking straight again, she came to the first open door on her right. She turned into the doorway and continued into the empty room. Straight ahead on the left wall was a desk with a rolling chair underneath and on the right was a wide, metal table with a chair on either side and a folder at the nearest side.

Hooves clopped up from the hallway and Sweet Leaf turned back to the door.

The guardsmare entered the room and looked Sweet Leaf in the eyes, jerking her head to the table. “Take a seat on the far side.”

Following the mare’s directions, Sweet Leaf continued around the table, eyeing the folder before taking a seat. Looking down in front of her, she raised an eyebrow at an odd little latch open with a small, horizontal groove embedded into the tabletop.

She looked up and stowed her curiosity and looked up at the guardsmare approaching her.

“Hooves,” the guard said, unamusement clear on her face.

Sweet Leaf furrowed a brow. “I’m sorry. What?”

“Hooves,” she repeated, raising a hoof and tapping the metal, “put them on the table.”

“Oh, alright.” Pulling her hooves out from underneath, Sweet Leaf placed them on top, the metal cuffs clinking against the surface.

The mare reached out and pulled her hoofcuff chain until it slipped into the groove. She flipped the latch down, clicking it shut before turning and heading back to the door.

Hinges squeaked from out in the hall, followed by hoofsteps and a loud clang.

“You ready?” The guardsmare asked, her head sticking out of the room.

“That we are,” a stallion’s voice replied from out in the hall.

“Good.” The mare turned back into the room.

Following her were two guards, a stallion levitating a medical bag and another mare levitating a clipboard. The new mare closed the door behind her and stood at the far wall, facing the table while the stallion set his bag on the desk, pulling out the rolling chair and sitting down.

The first guardsmare took a seat at the table and flipped open the folder. “Your name is Sweet Leaf, correct?” she asked without looking up.

Sweet Leaf nodded. “Yes, that’s right.”

“And you own the Sweet Roast Cafe?”

“Co-own with my husband, Fine Roast, but yes,” she corrected.

“Please state your age and date of birth,” the mare asked, still looking at the papers.

“I’m twenty-eight years old and was born on April twenty-first, year nine seventy-three.” Sweet Leaf’s eyes flicked over to the mare on the other side of the room. As soon as she began talking, the mare began writing.

Scribing what I say. Interesting. She held onto that little fact for later.

“You’ve been taken into custody on suspicion of being a changeling assuming the identity of Sweet Leaf,” the guardsmare finally looked up at her. “Do you have anything you would like to add to this or reveal any additional details?”

“No.” Sweet Leaf shook her head, shifting her forehooves and haunches from the uncomfortable positions they’d been forced into.

“Do you understand the reason for your arrest?”

She nodded her head, settling back into her seat. “I understand the claims against me, false as they may be.”

No reason not to be confident, Sweet Leaf thought.

“Are there any health issues you need to address that may be a risk to others or yourself? This includes any prescription medications.”

“No, none.”

“Very well,” the guardsmare said, looking back down and shuffling her papers. “According to the warrant, we are authorized to perform up to a non-invasive physical examination of both you and your husband, as well as a magic and enchantment inspection. However, your examination will include a cavity search for contraband. Do you understand this?”

“Yes, I read the warrant.”

She kept the neutral look on her face and breathed as normally as she could. The magic inspection. Stars, please let it be only that.

“Do you have anything you would like to reveal to us about any conditions, spells, or enchantments we may find on you or your husband before we conduct your examination?” She rearranged the papers and closed the folder.

“No.” Sweet Leaf shook her head again. “Unless Fine Roast goes out and buys some magical trinket today, neither he nor I have any enchanted items that I’m aware of.”

“Fine.” The guard scooted back and stood up out of her chair, turning to the other two guards. She reached back into her side pouch and pulled out a set of keys, hoofing them over to the stallion. “She’s all yours. I’ll be outside.”

“Thank you, Lieutenant Berry.” The stallion nodded to the guardsmare as she opened the door and stepped out.

Stowing the keys in his own pouch, he turned back to his medical bag. He stood there for a short moment before turning to Sweet Leaf, clipboard and pen in his magic. “Hello, Miss Leaf. My name is Lieutenant Haze. I’m the on-duty medic today and I’ll be conducting your physical exam. Unless you have any objections, Sergeant Fire behind me will serve as your chaperone today.”

Lieutenant Haze paused, looking back and nodding at the mare in question, before turning back and continuing, “Her specialty is magical in nature, but she has a secondary background in medicine and is sworn to keep any medical topics we discuss here private and confidential. However, due to the nature of this investigation and by authority of the arrest warrant, some or all of the medical discussion here will be used to compare against your records at the Hoofington Hospital. Do you have any questions or issues to address before we get started?”

Sweet Leaf almost raised an eyebrow at the stallion. From the example of the abrasive Lieutenant Berry, she’d figured that not a lot of ponies here were going to treat her with much respect. She was happy to be wrong. “No, I don’t believe so.”

“Excellent! Let’s get started then.” He took the sole seat across from her. “Over the past few months, have you experienced any excessive stress? This could be due to your work, relationships, emerging events, or any other causes.”

“No. I mean, just the ‘normal,’” her chains clinked as she poorly attempted air quotes, “stuff you’d expect from being one of the two employees at a cafe open six days per week and having one of your close friends turn out to be a changeling.”

“I see. How about any history of high blood pressure or heart issues?”

“For me, no. My mother has been diagnosed with hypertension, though.”

“Thank you.” He paused, writing on his clipboard before looking back up. “Any chronic medical conditions you’ve developed? Or are there any others on either of your parents’ sides?”

“As far as I know, no.”

“Perfect. Last question. In the past few years, were there any incidents that either caused you to seek immediate medical attention, or caused you to book an appointment with your medical provider that resulted in a diagnosis?”

“No. Erm well,” she hesitated, debating if it really counted. Then again, this sounded like it was for records checking, so it probably did, “actually yes. There was one time. About three years ago, a few months after Roast and I had gotten married, I had an accident with our espresso machine’s steam wand. We had one of those lever type steam wand valves on the side of the machine. Well, I was a... little inexperienced, but I wanted to do my part to help Roast run the cafe.

“I was rushing and I knocked over an empty cup beside the machine. I rushed to get it, but I wasn’t paying attention and, as I reached past the pulled-out steam wand, it caught inside my apron. I panicked, ‘cause, you know, that steam is really hot, and I flailed a little. Of course, my arm happened to knock the steam valve open and it blew steam right against my front.”

Sweet Leaf shrunk a little into her chair at the honestly quite embarrassing mistake. “It wasn’t on me for very long, but I, uh, screamed and fell back. Roast came from the kitchen and, after he saw what happened, he shut the valve and went to check on me. I remember being in shock and just staring at the thing. I don’t really remember what he tried to say. All I could think at the time was how I was supposed to be careful around the thing and there I was, going and burning myself in the first few times I’d used it.

“I do remember that he rushed everyone out of the cafe, threw me on his back, and ran straight to the emergency room. It wasn’t a very bad burn, mostly first degree is what the doctor said.” She took a deep breath and sighed before continuing, “But, well, I learned my lesson the hard way that day. If you don’t know something, don’t act like you do. Your pride isn’t worth it.”

“Mmm,” Lieutenant Haze nodded, writing down for a moment before he set the pen back on the table. He looked up at her, his emotions bringing more empathy than his smile. “Those are always hard lessons to take, but we all have to learn them at some point.”

“Heh, yeah.” Sweet Leaf gave him a smile in return. “Though, I wish the lessons didn’t cost so much.”

“Don’t we all.” He snorted. “Alright, unless there’s something else, we’ll now be moving on to the physical portion of this exam.”

Sweet Leaf sat up straight. “Nope, that was the only thing.”

Truthfully, back then, she’d locked up because she’d been more afraid of Roast getting suspicious rather than of her own folly. Now, though, the memory of his devotion only made her more anxious of what was to come.

And what she had to lose.

“Excellent.“ Lieutenant Haze said, breaking her out of her thoughts. He stood and turned around, walking back to the desk before setting his clipboard and pen on it. He pulled a pair of latex hoof coverings and a blood pressure cuff out of his medical bag, then turned back around. Pulling keys out of his side pouch, he walked forward and levitated the keys over the table, unlocking the latch.

Sweet Leaf moved to pull her hooves back to her lap, but hesitated, remembering she should probably keep them visible. Lieutenant Haze picked up the other chair in his magic and brought it around the table, setting it down next to Sweet Leaf.

He went about his work feeling her neck, listening to her breath, and other medical-y things. She noticed it was very similar to those annual exams she’d get as Sweet Leaf. While the exams were useless for a decent portion of medical issues that could arise in changeling biology, especially while disguised as a pony, some conditions could carry over.

Though when the cavity search came up, she did her best not to blanch. She hated that part of annuals as much as any mare.

“Alright, Miss Leaf,” Lieutenant Haze said, setting his clipboard onto the table, “that’s it for my portion. Please place your hoofcuff chain back into the groove.”

Sweet Leaf reached her hooves forward and let the chain drop back under the open latch.

Lieutenant Haze closed the latch with a click. He stepped back around to the other side of the table, taking the chair with him, before removing his latex hoof gloves. “I understand it may not have been the most pleasant, but I very much appreciate your cooperation.”

“Of course.” Sweet Leaf put on another friendly smile, making sure to hide her true feelings on the matter. “If it means I’m proven to be who I am and I get to go home tonight, I’m more than happy to do what you need.”

“Indeed. Now, next up will be my fellow guardsmare’s portion. It should be rather simple, though I’ll let her explain it.”

Haze turned to the desk, grabbing his clipboard and beginning to sit down. The mare, Sergeant Fire, Sweet Leaf believed, took a moment to finish writing before setting her clipboard on the desk.

The mare turned to her and stepped forward with a smile. “Hello! My name’s Dawn Fire and I’ll be doing the magical scan for any artefacts, enchantments, or spells you may have on you. Before I do, I’m obligated to ask, do you have any items or spells in or on your body that would be sensitive to magical probing?”

“No, I don’t.”

Firefly’s heart skipped a beat, but forced her face to keep the smile unwaveringly. This was it. If this was their detection spell, she was done. If it was only a magical scan, there shouldn’t be a problem.

I think. I’m pretty sure my metanoia doesn’t give off any magical energy when it’s not active. The organ that was responsible for shifting was also the one organ changelings couldn’t just shift away. Not only would the transformation not finish, and likely very painfully at that, if it did disappear, she’d be completely unable to shift again.

She almost shuddered at the horror stories she’d heard as a nymph and was more than happy to not find out how valid they were.

“Alright. I’m going to start magically probing your body. You may feel a slight tingling sensation.”

Up until now, it was as simple as going along with their requests. Now was the first big hurdle. Her vision suddenly tinted orange and she closed her eyes out of reflex, allowing herself a small, deep breath as her heart began to thump away in her chest of its own volition. Tingling did indeed cover her body, not overly unpleasant, but also not something she’d go out of her way to feel again. Especially after this.

She fought the urge to hold her breath in anticipation and apprehension, forcing her breathing to remain calm and steady.

Ages seemed to pass and, despite her best efforts, her nervous energy came out in a wing shuffle, the feathers barely rattling their cages.

Just as she was about to lose another battle to fidgeting, the tingling disappeared. She opened her eyes and looked at the guardsmare.

“Okay! Examination’s done,” Dawn chirped before raising an eyebrow at Sweet Leaf. “Are you alright, Miss Leaf? You’re a little flushed.”

Ugh. This is not what I wanted. Sweet Leaf gave a tiny huff before putting a half-reassuring smile on her face. “Yeah, the tingling was, uh, weird. I’ve never had one of those done before.”

“Ah,” Dawn said, brightening back up, “well don’t worry. Aside from a few very sensitive enchantments, there’s nothing harmful about a little magic probe.”

“Alright, so...” Firefly began, keeping her voice as normal as she could with a friendly smile on her face, “did I pass?”

Dawn gave her a sympathetic grimace. “I’m afraid it’s not my place to say, sorry.” The mare shrugged her shoulders. “That will have to come from the lieutenant or the detective after they’ve been able to review all the results.”

“Ah, that’s fine.” Firefly returned her shrug. “I understand.”

A small amount of relief came over her as she took in Dawn’s emotions. The mare showed no signs of concern, surprise, or suspicion. Hopefully that means I’m good to go. Either that or it would take somepony kicking her puppy to dampen her spirits.

Dawn Fire stepped back and faced the lieutenant. “You good to go, LT?”

“Yeah, one second,” Lieutenant Haze said, scribbling on his clipboard before sitting back. He stood and placed the clipboard and pen back into his bag. “Alright, good to go.”

“Alrighty.” Dawn turned to the door and stepped forward, opening it. “Lieutenant Berry? We’re good in here, ma’am.”

“Finally.” Firefly heard from the hall as Dawn stepped back, allowing the rather unpleasant lieutenant to enter the room. “You got the keys, Haze?”

“Yep, right here.” He reached a hoof into his pouch and pulled out the keys, holding them out and letting her magic pick them up. “Everything went smoothly.”

“Good,” Lieutenant Berry said, then turned, walking around the table along the far wall. As Haze and Dawn left the room, Berry levitated the keys and inserted them into the latch’s lock, popping it open. “Up.”

Sweet Leaf complied, scooting the chair back and standing. Facing the mare, she gave her a questioning look.

“Turn around,” Lieutenant Berry commanded, twirling her hoof, “walk to, and out the door. Follow the guards outside.”

Sweet Leaf did as the lieutenant asked and walked around the table. She continued and exited the room, seeing the guards in the middle of the hall on either side of the door, both of them facing left, back towards the cells. As she stepped out and between them, the guardsmare in front began walking forward and Sweet Leaf took that as her cue to move. Behind her clopped a couple pairs of hoofsteps.

They turned right at the corner, going down the same short hall of cells Sweet Leaf had seen when she came in. She glanced inside one of the cells and held back a grimace at the sparseness. Only a small metal bench, a bed, and a toilet graced the interior of each.

Though, as the guard came to a stop just after the second cell, Sweet Leaf couldn’t help but notice there was nopony in any of the cells.

Come to think of it, it is pretty big news whenever a crime happens. So these being empty kinda makes sense.

“Step aside,” Lieutenant Berry said from behind her.

Sweet Leaf looked back and saw Berry to her right. Stepping left, she let the mare pass and watched as she unlocked the second cell.

“Get in and walk to the far wall,” the lieutenant said.

Wordlessly, Sweet Leaf stepped forward into the cell, walking to the far side before turning around.

“No,” Berry called, halting Sweet Leaf mid turn, “face the far wall.”

Sweet Leaf held back a huff and turned back away from Berry. Once she had stopped moving. she heard two sets of hoofs come into the cell behind her, not a word spoken between the guards. Keys jingled and a moment later, she felt a shift and a click on her wing cages. Resisting the urge to watch them take it off, she held her head forward and felt as they slid the cages back off her wings.

“Alright,” Berry spoke up, hoofsteps echoing back behind Sweet Leaf, “now turn around and hold your forehooves out.”

Knowing that replying would be useless, she silently turned around, seeing the guardstallion exit her cell with the wing cages draped across one hoof. Keeping her eyes forward and the growing annoyance off her face, she sat back to her haunches and held her hooves out for the lieutenant.

More keys jangled as Berry levitated a small hoofcuff key and unlocked one side, then the other before she pulled them off.

Sweet Leaf pulled her hooves back and rubbed at the irritating feeling the cuffs left behind on her fetlocks.

“Turn back around and put your forehooves up on the wall, where I can see them.”

Sweet Leaf nodded and set her forehooves back on the floor. She turned back around and shimmied up to the wall before sitting down again. Putting her forehooves up onto the wall, she almost squished her snout against the cold stone before realizing she didn’t have to be quite that close. Her ears flicked back at the sound of the lieutenant’s hooves leaving her cell. Squeaking resounded in the cell and before the door clanged shut.

“Alright you can relax,” Lieutenant Berry said.

Dropping her forehooves back to the hard stone floor, Sweet Leaf faced the cell door again. Lieutenant Berry was looking in at her with an unamused expression and the two other guards had posted themselves in front of the empty cell across from hers.

“Get comfy,” Berry quipped. “I have a feeling they’re not gonna be ready for your interrogation for a long while.” Without another word, the lieutenant left back down the hallway.

Sweet Leaf watched her disappear from sight, and with nothing else to do, she hopped up onto the bed and sat down. A moment later, the loud clang of the door separating the holding cells came from around the corner.

Interrogation. That means they still haven’t found enough to condemn me. At least, I hope so. She breathed in deep and exhaled, her shoulders and back slumping in catharsis. Her bet paid off, at least for now. There were no fancy spells to detect her or force a shift back to her changeling form.

Though with all that out of the way, the only thing left to do was wait. And worry. Worry about her husband. About the interrogation.

What could they be interrogating me about? My family? All that is perfectly documented at town hall and there’s no way they had time to actually go talk to Sweet Leaf’s parents. They’re an entire day by train away. And they already got a medical background from me. What else could they ask? Had it not been for the guards outside, she’d have hummed and wiggled her eyebrows while she was thinking. She fought to keep the odd habits stowed away.

I guess they could ask about mine and Roast’s relationship. Though that would require them to, well, interrogate Roast. Which they can. Her lips curved up into a small smile. They’re in for a surprise if that’s what they’re going for. Roast and I have nothing to hide.

Her smile dropped again. Except he knew the whole time. ‘Cause you were as careless as Bobby Pin. You’re lucky he’s not like—no. Stop. Her head twitched before she caught her habitual head shake. That was a long time ago and everything turned out well. Besides this. And his confrontation a few days ago. Which I’m sure he can… make something up. Except he’s kind of bad at lying. Ugh, great. Everything was so simple when I only had to rely on me. There was hardly anything on teamwork back in training!

She let out a tiny, unsatisfying grumble.

Though… what else could it be about besides our history? She silently hummed, staring at the floor. There wasn’t anything else she could think of that they could use to confirm Sweet Leaf’s identity. Or Firefly’s. Family, friends, spouse, personal and medical details, what else was there?

Wait a second. She raised her eyebrow a tiny bit. Steel said that a validated source made the claims. I know it’s Wavy, there’s nopony else it could be, but… how would they have validated it? They wouldn’t have started a full blown investigation over her merely leaving, so it had to be something that they found. There’s no way Spindle left any resin behind, I know for a fact that she wasn’t making a cocoon. The only other thing would be—

Her mind went blank for a long moment as it hit her.

Oh no. I never checked with Skitter. I have no idea if she was able to get Spindle’s crystals or not. I stupidly assumed it was all taken care of. If she didn’t find them and they did, then they might tear up the cafe looking for mine. She shifted in place, her anxiety having nowhere to go. She desperately wanted to put her head in her hooves. Or get up and pace.

Or have Roast hold her.

Stars, this is not okay. I’m glad I at least remembered to move the crystals back under the floorboards, but finding a box full of crystals isn’t any less odd than finding a burlap sack. If they find it… It’s over. The chance of getting out of that is so low. No more cafe. No more— No. Stop. Stop it.

Slowly, silently, she breathed in deep.

One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Release.

Okay, Firefly. Be calm. Collected. You just have to hope they didn’t find it. There’s nothing you can do about it now. Maybe I can talk my way out of it. And if they do keep me locked up, Skitter will find out. She’ll ask for help. There’s no way the hive would ignore an imprisoned collector. It’ll be okay. You’ll be fine. You’ll be…

You’ll be alone.

Her face fell and her heart seized at the idea. All of a sudden she didn’t want to think about that anymore.

Taking what little privacy she had left, she turned away from the bars and laid down. She tucked her hooves under her chin, trying to hide her shaky breaths and hoping that Roast was taking this better than her.

A deep sigh escaped her lips as she leaned back against the wall on her hard, metal bench. Firefly had no idea how long it had been, only that the two-guard detail watching her had swapped what she assumed must have been an hour ago. There were no windows in the cell block and no way of telling time from the sun.

Her flanks were sore on all sides. The uncomfortable bench, ever too narrow to lay down on, made sure of that. She looked over at the bed and pondered if it had been enough time since she’d switched out the bed for the bench. Instead, she leaned back again and let out another sigh.

She tried her best to keep her mind off all the possibilities, but it was exceedingly difficult with no other distractions than laying on a bed, sitting on the bench, or counting the blocks on the walls. Which, as she eyed the wall the bed was bolted to, she already knew there were forty-four whole blocks on either side and thirty-nine on the back wall.

The useless knowledge did nothing for her constant anxiety.

Talking to the guards had been something she’d avoided. She saw no benefit in trying to communicate with them, especially because she didn’t want to risk giving away her nervousness. Plus, she’d had to use the toilet eventually and the cell provided no privacy for such matters. She held back a shutter, feeling awkward just thinking about it.

Eying the bed again, she wondered if she should try to sleep. If much more time passed in the day, there was no way they’d stick around past duty hours to interrogate her. At that point she’d have to find a way to sleep somehow, regardless.

Firefly wavered back and forth indecisively before she finally figured she might as well get off her flanks. She leaned forward to hop out off the bench, but her ears flicked and her throat seized at a barely audible sound.

Hoofsteps.

And a far away clunk before a clang, the same kind her cell door made. Louder, the hoofsteps came, but she simply rolled her eyes.

Come on, Firefly. How many times in the last several hours has somepony passed down some connecting hallway? They’re not going to—

Her eyes popped open at the clunk of the barred door around the corner. She took a deep, shaky breath hoping both for and against the idea that they were there for her.

The squeaking hallway door opened around the corner. More hoofsteps and a pause, before the door clanged shut. She stared ahead at the bed, but kept the hall in the corner of her eye.

From around the corner turned a guard, indistinguishable to her from all the others. He stopped in front of her cell.

“Sweet Leaf?” he asked.

She kept her eyebrows in their neutral place and calmly turned her head over to the familiar voice’s owner looking in at her. That voice was Lieutenant Steel’s, without a doubt and if he was here, that probably meant they were done inspecting the cafe.

And were ready to interrogate her.

“Yes?” she replied, sliding off the bench and moving to the middle of the cell.

“We’ve completed all the preliminary investigative activities and the next step will be your interrogation. However, should you desire it, you are allowed an attorney or other legal representative present during the interrogation. Would you like to request one?”

An attorney… Firefly pondered, looking off to the side and tapping her chin for show. That’s one thing we didn’t go over very much in training. From what I do remember, they’re funded by the crown and aren’t all that common. They’re usually used to keep the interrogation on topic and to keep the interrogated from getting overwhelmed. I... think I can manage those things myself. I hope. Plus, the Equestrian legal system is all about truth finding and reformation, and I doubt they’ll be very interested in reforming an enemy of the state.

“I don’t think so,” Sweet Leaf said, setting her hoof down and looking back at Steel. “I can’t be proven to be something I’m not, so it seems rather pointless.” On top of that, if they did discover me, there’d be even less of a point.

“In that case, our interrogator is nearly ready and we will be transferring you to the interrogation room. However, we will need to place restraints on you once more, so please turn around, walk to the far wall, and remain in place.”

Sweet Leaf nodded and repeated the actions she’d done hours prior, though this time butterflies filled her stomach.

Well, this is it. Time to face the music.

The cell door lock clunked and squeaked open behind her, followed by what sounded like two sets of hooves. She stood in place and saw from the corner of her eyes as two of them came up and stopped at either side. Clinking and jingling resonated in the small cell before the familiar cages slid over her wings. She resisted the urge to shuffle or flare the appendages as her wings were locked into place once again.

“Please turn around and hold out your forehooves,” Steel said from her left.

Wordlessly, she complied, turning around and sitting back, presenting her hooves. Steel, hoofcuffs in hoof, held out the open circles and placed them over her fetlocks, closing and clamping shut each in turn.

“Please stay there for just a moment,” Steel said as Sweet Leaf put her hooves down. He turned along with the other guard and left the cell. He and his fellow guard moved to either side of the door, facing inside the cell again. “Alright, please step out of the cell. We will be leading you down the hall to your left.”

Sweet Leaf stood and shuffled her way out. As soon as she was in the hall, the guard to her left turned and began walking down the same hall she’d been down once. Sweet Leaf eyed the closed processing room door as they passed it and her ears flicked back at the sound of her cell door closing. Stopping as the guard in front did, she turned her eyes to the keys levitating into the hall door’s lock.

Turning the key and pulling open the door, the guard proceeded through, Sweet Leaf following behind. Ahead was a T intersection going left and straight with another barred door past the intersection, segmenting the hall. Though, to the left he turned, leading her down a hall with four big metal doors on the left, two doors with restroom signs on the right, and yet another barred door at the end.

As they passed the first metal door, Sweet Leaf eyed its sign.

Observation Room 2? So I’ll be watched by more than just the interrogators. I suppose I should have expected they’d have more ponies than them watching. She followed the guard further down, stopping with him at the last door, labeled Interrogation Room 1. Next to it was its accompanying Observation Room 1 door.

The guard opened the interrogation room door, holding a hoof out into the room and looking to Sweet Leaf. “Please enter the room and take a seat on the far side of the table.”

Sweet Leaf nodded and gave him a smile, taking the short, choppy steps the hoofcuffs allowed into the brightly lit, beige room. Walking around the table, she raised an eyebrow at the setup. There were only two chairs, one for her and one for what she assumed would be her interrogator. Singular. The table, she noticed, was the same type of table in the processing room with a groove and latch on her side. As well, on the observation room side was a big glass mirror set into the wall.

Continuing around the table, she wondered what the mirror could be for. Or rather, she knew what it was for, but not how they’d use it to observe her. Magic, maybe? Don’t know why you’d need a mirror to do that, though.

She reached the end of the table and sat down. Figuring they’d want her in the same uncomfortable position, she put her hooves on the table, letting her hoofcuff chain lay near the groove. She kept the expression off her face, but she was not looking forward to having to hold her hooves in front of her for who knew how long.

“Ah, thank you,” Lieutenant Steel said as he approached the table. “But, before we lock you in, do you need to use the restroom first?”

“No.” Sweet Leaf shook her head. “I’m good.”

“Alright, then.” He leaned forward and pulled her hoofcuff chain into the groove before closing the latch. He stepped back from the table and looked at her. “The cooperation thus far has been much appreciated.”

“Of course.” Sweet Leaf nodded at him and masked her simmering anxiety with a smile. “I know you’re only doing your job and fighting you would only make my release take longer.”

“Yes, well, sit tight for a moment,” he said then turned to leave, going out the door and to the right. The quiet sound of another door opening then closing barely graced Sweet Leaf’s ears.

She eyed the open, unguarded interrogation room door with slight confusion, though she made sure to keep the usual, pleasant smile on her face. If they were testing her, they’d have to think she was a fool to try and escape with at least one set of heavy, metal doors in any direction she could go. Not to mention all the guards and her hoofcuffs.

Though, as she sat there, a faint burst of anxiety came from the observation room wall. She pointedly didn’t look over to the mirrored wall or raise her eyebrow at it.

Anxiety? That’s kind of odd. Do they have some sort of… emotive pony over there trying to draw a reaction out of me? Even if they don’t, this is going to be loads of fun. She sarcastically thought. Gonna have to make sure I don’t pay attention to them.

Outside, the sound of the door opening again broke her from her thoughts and the anxiety from the other room flared even further. From around the corner, the lieutenant walked back into the room, accompanied by another guard holding a coil of wire in her hoof.

The mare was practically pouring with nervousness.

Sweet Leaf watched with as neutral an expression as she could as the new guardsmare stopped at the mirror. The guard grabbed the connector on the end of the coiled wire in her teeth and leaned down. Extended a shaky hoof towards the wall, she flipped up one of two cover plates Sweet Leaf was surprised she hadn’t even seen.

A loud clack filled the room as the connector slipped off the mare’s shaking hoof. She tried again, only to result in another clack.

One more clack and Sweet Leaf’s eyes flicked over to Lieutenant Steel as he raised a hoof towards the mare. She looked back to the poor mare and noticed her eyes had closed and she was taking a deep breath. Her eyes opened back up and she carefully reached forward and pulled the cover up, holding it while she pushed the connector into the wall.

She stood back up and faced Sweet Leaf before stepping towards her, uncoiling the cable as she went.

”H-hello, miss,” the guardsmare began, a forced smile on her face, “If you could, please raise your forelegs. I’m, uh, going to need to put this around your chest.”

Sweet Leaf tilted her head and raised an eyebrow, before she noticed under the coils of wire was an elastic strap. “Uh, okay. What’s it for?” She felt bad for the poor girl. Maybe it was her first day on the job?

“It’s a heart rate monitor,” Lieutenant Steel said from his spot next to the door. “It’s a tool we use to help us determine if a pony is telling the truth.”

“Ah.” It was all Sweet Leaf could think to say as she lifted her forelegs as much as the secured hoofcuffs would allow.

This is… not good. My heart’s already beating like crazy. There might not be a whole lot to lie about with my and Roast’s relationship, but that won’t matter if they know I’m already nervous.

“Alright,” the guardsmare stood up and stepped back, “You’re all set!” she said a little too fast before turning and trotting out the door with naught but a nod to Steel on the way.

“As the mare said, all set,” Steel spoke up. “Again, sit tight. Somepony will be in shortly.”

Her heart still thumping away, she watched as he turned, walking out of the room and closing the door behind him.

Okay, Firefly. Calm down. No bad thoughts, no panic. You are Sweet Leaf and that’s it. You have no idea what love crystals are and you are not a changeling and for the love of Chrysalis, get that heart rate down!

As slowly as she dared, she took a few deep breaths, still sensing the faint emotions coming from the other room. Unsurprisingly, it seemed it was almost entirely the mare’s anxiety along with a hint of concern from somepony else.

Come on, Sweet Leaf. They’re more afraid of you than you are of them. No need to be nervous. It’s just a few questions. You can handle that. You’ll be okay. Everything will be okay.

Soon enough, the tension in her body began to lessen and her heart slowed a small amount. Not a lot, but enough that the fear of having walked into a trap no longer held her captive.

Seems the mare in the other room is calming down, too.

Eventually, the emotions from the other room abated enough that she could no longer feel them.

Minutes seemed to pass and Sweet Leaf’s mind began to betray her. Was this really a trap? Were they waiting for something? A spell, maybe?

Or are they trying to make me nervous?

Before she could ponder the question, the door handle clunked and turned, her eyes flicking over. The door opened and in stepped a light brown pegasus mare wearing a dark grey suit and tie. Her muted blue mane was put up into a bun, a few stray hairs attempting to escape.

Held in one of her wings was a thick briefcase and in the other, a coil of wire and a folder. She wordlessly walked forward, eyes focused downward. Reaching the table, she set the briefcase down on the floor and the folder on the tabletop before turning to the mirror. The wing holding the wire extended forward, the primaries separating one end of the cable. She leaned down and reached out with her unoccupied wing, deftly flipping up the cover plate and plugging the wire in next to the other cable.

She turned around and brought the coil back to the chair, taking a seat before unraveling the wire completely and sticking one end into her ear. Finally, the mare looked forward, unamusement clear on her face, but a small stream of nervousness, self-consciousness, and fear came from her clashed with the expression.

As Sweet Leaf waited for her to speak, she noticed the other mare’s eyes were focused a little down from Sweet Leaf’s. A few moments passed and Sweet Leaf grew a little nervous herself, having an urge to wipe her mouth clean of whatever the mare was staring at.

Is she doing this on purpose? Is this part of the interrogation? Trying to make me—

Without warning, the mare’s emotions cut off and half a second later, her eye’s snapped up to meet Sweet Leaf’s.

“You know,” the interrogator sighed, “this whole process would be a lot easier if you’d simply come out and say it.”

Sweet Leaf’s eyebrow rose. She certainly wasn’t expecting something like this. “Come out and say what? That I’m a dragon? ‘Cause that would carry the same amount of truth as what you want me to say.”

The mare’s eyes didn’t leave hers for even a second. “Your lie’s philosophical truth isn’t lost on me. You aren’t a dragon. You’re also not a changeling, at least, not right now. You’re a disguised changeling. But fine, we can play the game. It’s what we’re here for, after all.”

Firefly mentally paused as she noticed there were hardly any emotions coming from her anymore. It wasn’t like how an infiltrator was taught to shield their emotions, but like she was… unconcerned. Little wisps would flow out of her, tiny bits of happiness, little snippets of resolve, and fragments of curiosity, but overall, there was almost nothing.

It reminded her of the times she’d watch Roast get absorbed into coffee testing.

The mare’s hooves stayed in their place and her wings came forward to slide the folder in front of herself and open it at an angle away from Sweet Leaf. She reached into the center of the folder and pulled out a pen, setting it on the table.

Sweet Leaf squinted. Has she… used anything but her wings?

“State your full name, age, and occupation for the record,” her interrogator said, not looking up from the papers.

“My name is Sweet Leaf, I’m twenty-eight years old, and I’m a co-owner of the Sweet Roast Cafe along with my husband.”

“And your husband’s name?”

“His name is Fine Roast.”

A tiny, near-inaudible huff escaped from the mare as she set the folder down before closing it.

Sweet Leaf nearly squinted as her eyes caught a picture of the cafe on one side and on the other, a dense page, covered in red highlights with Sweet’s name in bold at the top.

The mare set the folder aside and snapped her gaze back up to Sweet Leaf’s eyes, interrupting her thoughts. “My name is Refined Aura,” she said, reaching a wing into her suit, pulling out a little wallet-like thing and flipping it open. An embossed Equestrian crown was on top and her name with some details on the bottom. “I am a detective with thirteen years of experience, employed by the Hoofington Guard and the Equestrian Crown, tasked with finding the truth in cases exactly like yours.”

She folded up her badge and put it back in her suit. “I was assigned to this case because I’m the best they have and I assure you, I will find the truth. Any slip-up you make, I’ll see it. Any inconsistency, I’ll catch it. So I would advise you, anything you have to confess, do it now.”

Sweet Leaf steeled herself. Don’t fall for her intimidation tactics, because that’s all they are. “Like I’ve already said multiple times, there’s nothing to confess.”

“If you say so.” Refined Aura raised an eyebrow, still not taking her eyes off Sweet Leaf’s. “Though, one does have to wonder, why did you come along so willingly? So calm, cool, and collected, even though your husband, if you can even call him that, was on the edge of a breakdown. It’s almost as if you knew escaping wasn’t an option.”

“Because I expected it.”

“Really? You expected the guard to come to your work and home and arrest you under suspicion of being a changeling?”

Sweet Leaf rolled her eyes. “Not exactly that, but when your friend comes into your shop one morning, screaming that you stole his wife from him, and you can’t dissuade him, you have to expect he’s not going to give up there. Fighting the guards would have done no good.”

“You’re at least correct there, but what about your husband? He was hurt, practically crying as you were taken away. It seems the two of you weren’t on the same page.”

A quiet click rang out and Sweet Leaf paused for a tiny moment. “...he wasn’t,” she said with a tiny bit of hesitation. “We hadn’t had time to talk about everything yet.”

“That’s surprising, honestly.” Another click. “From what I heard, it seemed like you two had a good relationship. Did you have a fight recently?”

“No, we didn’t,” she quipped and narrowed her eyes ever so slightly. “Do you consistently work eighty to ninety hours a week, Miss Aura? If you do, how do you and your special somepony handle it? With the influx of customers, we’ve been so bogged down and tired from work that we haven’t had a lot of time to talk. I get to work next to my husband and we have to fight together to make time for each other. Do you know what that’s like?”

Sweet Leaf huffed, a little surprised at her outburst. She didn’t need to defend herself and Roast like that. Aura was probably looking to get those reactions out of her, even as the brown mare’s eyes flicked away for a split second.

Wait a second. She’s… hurt?

It wasn’t deep and not a single bit of it showed on Aura’s face as the mare stared right back into her own eyes, but there was pain flowing from her nonetheless. Remorse bubbled up in Sweet Leaf, but quickly caught herself before it could show on her face.

It doesn’t matter. This is your enemy. She’s the one standing between you and Roast and you have no idea if she’s playing with you. This could be all part of her game.

“I’m afraid I don’t know what that’s like,” Aura said, her emotions settling without even a bit of change in her tone. “So I’ll have to trust you on it. Though that does bring up an interesting thought.” Aura’s head tilted a tiny bit to the side and one of her eyes squinted. “Why didn’t you go to the guard?”

“For a simple outburst? If I went to the guard every time one of my customers—”

“Not for that,” Aura shook her head, “for the night you got attacked by a changeling.”

Sweet Leaf’s head twitched back before she could contain it. Oh chitin dust. And of course Roast would have told them. Hiding it would have been far worse. But, damnit, what would he have told them?! Think like Roast! “I was… kind of in shock. Bobby Pin dragged me out and pounced on me. She was strong, really strong. Way more than I expected.” She looked down at the table as she made up her story. “I thought she was gonna hit me or something, but then the door opened and Roast confronted her. I guess she got spooked because she looked up at him and bolted down the alley.”

She looked back up at Aura. “I don’t know why Roast never suggested going to the guard. I was so shaken up that I didn’t even think about it. Maybe he noticed and thought it better if we held off. Like I said, we hadn’t had the time to talk about things yet.”

Aura simply stared at her for a few seconds before another pair of clicks resounded.

What is that noise?! Sweet Leaf stared back at Aura for a short moment, but noticed Aura’s wings were moving under the table. What is she… wait, where’s the pen? She glanced down at the table, but the pen she’d pulled out of the folder was nowhere to be seen.

She’s playing with it? Is she anxious again? Sweet Leaf looked back up at Aura. Not a single shred of nervousness came from her, nor really any distinct emotion. No. A tick, then? Or maybe this is another one of her games. Am I not supposed to mention it or will it look strange if I don’t?

“I see. Let’s move on, then,” Aura finally said, making up Sweet’s mind for her. “I’m sure you’ve been able to surmise already that we’ve interviewed Mister Roast earlier today. We asked him a few questions about your and his past, and I’d like to get your perspective of the events.”

Ha! I was right! Bring it, pony girl. I could answer these all day. She, of course, made sure to keep the confidence off her face, adding a pleasant smile instead. “Certainly. I’m sure you’ll be satisfied with my side of the stories.”

“We’ll see.” Aura said, shifting her eyes off Sweet Leaf to the folder, grabbing it and flipping it open, keeping its contents away from Sweet Leaf. After a moment of humming and lifting pages, she looked back up into Sweet Leaf’s eyes. “Alright, let’s start easy. For the second anniversary, what gift did Roast get you?”

Second anniversary. Roast got… wait, that was the year that I got Roast something. Her eyes darted back and forth between Aura’s. “You say you interviewed Roast. That means you got this information from him?”

“That’s correct.” Aura nodded.

“If that’s the case, then he forgot or you’ve got your information mixed up. We’ve had three anniversaries and he’s gotten me gifts two out of the three years. But our second anniversary was the one I insisted I get him something instead.”

“Hmm?” Aura raised an eyebrow before looking back at her folder and flipping through pages. “Ah, yes.” She looked back up at Sweet Leaf. “My mistake. I read my notes incorrectly. In any case, tell me about your second anniversary. What was it and what made you give him a gift instead?”

Sweet Leaf grumbled and narrowed her eyes. Not a single bit of confusion or sheepishness. That was not a mistake and If she’s trying to be subtle, she’s doing a bad job at it. Ugh. Except that’s probably the point. I’m really starting to dislike these mind games.

She released the tension in her back, trying to let go of her frustration without being obvious about it. Her eyes shifted down to the table and she hummed, recalling that day. “I didn’t think it was very fair that he do all the gift giving on our anniversaries. As far as who gives what and when, I know there’s no ‘set standard,’ in Equestria,” she tried to air quote, chain clicking as she was met with the same frustrating results as hours ago, “but I wanted to do something nice for him.

“One night, back before we got married, we were visiting his parents and the topic of engagement and anniversary gifts came up. The conversation was all about his mother getting such wonderful gifts from his father. I caught on pretty quick that growing up in his household, it was always the stallion giving to the mare. I’ve never really liked that philosophy, so I decided to even the playing fields, as it were.

“Instead of being subtle about it, I came out and said it directly. I told him that I would be getting him a gift that year and he was going to accept it whether he wanted to or not. He even asked me about it a couple weeks prior to our anniversary. In response, I smacked him with my wing. Playfully, I might add. I told him that it was a surprise and that if he asked about it again, all he’d get was more smacks.”

She paused, looking back up to see if Aura had anything to say. Her eyes were still awkwardly focused on Sweet Leaf’s and, yet still, no significant emotions came from her. With nothing from the mare, she continued.

“So, the day came and I took him out to dinner at our favorite restaurant. Afterward we went home and it was gift time. Though, let me tell you, it was not easy getting a hold of those things. Kopi luwak coffee is ridiculously expensive,” Sweet Leaf cringed a little, “and kind of nasty if you think too hard about it. Or at all. Anyway, I got him a kilogram of coffee, though I tried to be sneaky and put part of his other gift in the bag. I was a little clumsy and ended up spilling almost a third of the bag. I was so mad at myself for that.”

Sweet Leaf gave a small huff, still a little peeved at the five hundred bits she’d wasted. “Anyway. I wanted it to be a really big surprise, so I gave him the bag and told him to open it. Inside, I’d put a few brown topaz I’d commissioned to get carved into the shape of the beans on his flank. Except, it wouldn’t have been complete without the saucer and cup, so I commissioned somepony to make a replica of those, too.

“When I pulled out the saucer and cup, he started getting teary eyed. He’s always been more prone than other stallions to wearing his heart on his shoulder, whether that be sad or… protective…”

Firefly looked down at the table, melancholy suddenly overcoming her. Huh. I got so caught up in all this that I forgot we never got to have our talk. I'm not even upset at him anymore. If I get through this—no, if we get through this, I don’t even care if we never talk about it as long as we—

“Miss Leaf?”

Her head snapped up to Aura’s still locked gaze and raised eyebrow. “Sorry. I, uh, got caught up in the memory.” I’ve got to make it out of this. There’s no way I’m going to let all this be the last things we go through together.

“Continue, please.”

Sweet Leaf nodded and took a deep breath. “Right. Well, when I gave it all to him, he teared up pretty bad. I honestly wasn’t trying to make him cry, but I wanted to kick it home. So I told him that all my gifts were worthless compared to how much I loved him.”

Hm, I wonder if I… “And, uh, not that it’s related,” She put a smile on and let a blush overcome her cheeks, “but, I think that night was probably some of the best sex we’ve ever had.”

“Aheh… ohhh,” she dropped her smile and put her snout down on the table. “I don’t know why I said that,” she mumbled.

Is that embarrassment? Sweet Leaf sat back up, disguising her curiosity with a blush of her own, but annoyance filled her at the mare’s unwaveringly unamused face. Argh! She’s so dang good at hiding her expressions! I can’t tell if she’s playing with me or if she’s skittish. Sweet’s abashedness slowly dropped as her forelegs protested once again at being held out for so long.

“Moving on. I’m curious about your honeymoon. Tell me what happened then.”

“Alright,” she held back a sigh. Her flanks were already sore from the hours spent in the cell and she knew it was only going to get worse. “We both wanted to go somewhere special for our honeymoon. Eventually, the destination of Las Pegasus came up and since I’d never…”

“I think that’s enough background, Miss Leaf,” Aura said.

Sweet Leaf huffed from what had become a progressively more slouched forward position, envious of the detective’s relaxed and decidedly uncuffed position. Her eyes flicked away from the mare’s dead-set gaze to her extended wing. The pen was still being flipped back and forth between Aura’s primaries. Sweet wondered, yet again, if the mare had sat back and given up all pretense of hiding playing with the thing just to aggravate her.

If she was being honest with herself, it was working. Really well.

There were also all the little inconsistencies Aura had thrown into the stories she’d taken from Roast and Firefly was getting really fed up with it. Had already gotten really fed up with it.

“I’d like to go on to something a little different, if you don’t mind.” Aura leaned forward, not taking her eyes off Sweet’s. “Tell me about Roast’s love for you. What’s that like?”

“What his love is like?” Sweet Leaf asked, holding back a huff at the simple nod she received in response. I bet you asked Roast the same question. In fact, I bet you wanna know what it’s like, huh? Sweet Leaf kept the jab to herself and sighed, trying to sit up as straight as the cuffs would allow. Come on, Firefly, stop it. Don’t let her get to you.

“I guess,” Sweet began, “you could say it’s… sweet. And dedicated. He’s always looking out for me and will unwaveringly defend me if he thinks somepony’s even so much as giving me a hard time. It can get a little tiring sometimes, but in the end, all he wants is to do is make sure I’m happy and protected. He’s always concerned about my feelings and wants to do whatever he can to put a smile on my face. Inside, I get a little frustrated at him for it, but…” she sighed again, “he tries so hard at everything that I can’t help but let him do it.”

“Mhm,” Aura hummed, raising an eyebrow. “Sounds like an interesting relationship. You know, they say communication is key to a good marriage.”

Firefly bristled. “Yeah, like y—” she snapped her jaw shut. No! Get a hold of yourself! Do not get into a fight. Sweet Leaf doesn’t have a reason to defend herself against this mare.

“Yeah,” Sweet Leaf started again, making sure to keep her tone calm, “Roast and I had just talked about something like that this morning, in fact.”

“Really?” Aura smiled. “That’s good. Though, I’m also interested in the reverse. How would you describe your love for him?”

Firefly clenched her jaw and stared at that stupid, smug little smile on her face. She should have expected the question, but the matter Firefly found most shameful was she hadn’t ever really thought about it. So many of the last several months had she spent trying to deny her own feelings that she had no name or description for the love she now felt.

She loved him and… that was it.

Changelings were supposed to be the experts. They knew all sorts of love, from familial to friendly to romantic to lustful. And yet, here she was, struggling to find even a single thing to say.

Say something, don’t just sit there! Make something up if you have to!

She loosened her jaw and took a deep breath. “I… can I be honest with you?”

Aura raised her eyebrow yet again. “Certainly. Truth is what I value, after all.”

Sweet Leaf closed her eyes for a short moment before looking back at the mare in front of her. “I love him. He’s the most amazing stallion I ever could have asked for. He takes care of me, loves me, comforts me and…” What are you doing? Firefly sighed, wishing she knew. “And for the last long while, I’d been taking him for granted.

“He treats me like a princess and It’s so easy to fall into that sweet, giving, loving embrace that I’d gotten caught up and forgot it’s more than a one way street. Sure, I do my part as his wife. I hold him when he’s sad and I celebrate with him when he’s happy. I take him out to dinner and I take my turn cooking breakfast.

“Then I realized all I was doing was going through the motions. We love each other and we both know there’s no other we’d rather be with, but I’d lost that emotional commitment. I loved him, but I loved him because I loved him.”

She shook her head. “And that wasn’t okay. I had decided it was time to go all in and I began to love him. I shared myself with him, truly, and we talked. Oh stars did we talk. I made sure to communicate my feelings, but also listened to his. Guilt wracked me for the terrible pony I’d been, but he comforted it away, like he always does. He’d been feeling it too and he was so glad I’d come to h-him.” She took in a shaky breath as she felt a cursed tear drip down her cheek. “It started getting better after that. It was like a veil had been lifted and all that was left was… us, being with each other.”

Firefly stared right back at Aura and for the briefest of moments, the mare’s eyes flicked away and sympathy dripped from her.

Don’t take him from me. Let me make that story true. Please.

“So, to answer your question. He’s my world and I can’t imagine a life without him. I would do anything for him.”

And then the moment passed.

The sympathy disappeared and Aura’s eyes locked right back on hers.

“That’s… quite the story, I have to admit. But, to return your honesty in kind, I’ve grown rather tired of this game.”

Firefly narrowed her eyes at her and the sudden conviction the mare felt. And her breath nearly caught in her throat.

Roast! His unmistakable… everything came flooding from the observation room. Love, sadness, anger, despair, rage. Do not react! He is not there, Firefly!

“Did you feel that?” The mare’s mouth turned back up into that stupid, smug smile. “They just brought Fine Roast in. I want him to see this, to see what’s hiding behind that face.”

Aura looked to her side and reached down with a wing, a click sounding in the room. She pulled her wing back up, her smile growing wider.

And Firefly’s heart seized.

In her wings was the present box. The one she’d hoped against hope they wouldn’t find. She watched as Aura took off the lid and pulled out an evidence bag, tossing it on to the table in front of her, all the very familiar crystals clattering together.

“You know what these are, don’t you?”

Firefly shook her head, trying as much to shake away the deluge from Roast. “I’m afraid I don’t.”

“Are you sure, changeling?” Aura said, resolution and conviction suddenly flowing freely from her. “Because your acting has been superb, but your heart betrays you.”

“I said I don’t know what they are.” Roast, please! Stop!

Aura chuckled. “Ah, wordplay. Well, go ahead then. I’m very interested to hear this.”

“They’re Bobby Pin’s,” Sweet Leaf’s mouth provided as her brain was flooded with even more of Roast’s rage. But suddenly, the rage was cut off and in its place was the most agonizing, heart wrenching anguish Firefly had felt from anyone.

And for a fraction of a second, her eyes flicked over to the observation window.

Ice ran down Firefly’s spine as she saw Aura’s eyes narrow and her smirk grow ever so slightly larger. Confidence and resolution began spilling from the detective.

Don’t stop! They haven’t taken you away yet. Fight. For him.

“S-she brought them to me about a month ago. Said they were gifts for Wavy Palette and asked if I could put them somewhere safe, somewhere that even Roast wouldn’t find. She said she wanted it to be an absolute surprise. Maybe… maybe those are what she wanted that night.”

The smirk stayed plastered on the detective’s face as she shook her head. “The things we say to get out of trouble. Well, it’s been—” she cut herself off and narrowed her eyes, before letting out a deep sigh and plucking out her earpiece. “You’ll have to excuse me. Your—Roast just vomited in the observation room.”

Aura stood and turned around, opening the door and leaving, closing it behind her.

Firefly simply stared at the door. So much did she wish she could break down, but she had no doubt they were still watching her. Instead, she looked away, down at the table, at her bound hooves, at the folder.

She nearly chuckled. She’d been through something like this before in training, but it had been easy back then. All she had to do was act, with the only consequences being a failed test.

But now… Now she had something to lose, something very real and dear to her. Before today, she’d thought something like this would be easy. All she had to do was follow her training, put on a good show, and then she’d walk out with Roast at her side.

She’d been at this for six years, but not a single moment in those years prepared her for being in love.

Nor for the utter terror at the reality that she could lose it.

This wasn’t merely not easy; it was impossible. The game had been rigged from the start.

She knows. There’s no way she doesn’t. The interrogation was never about my past, it was all about how I reacted and it started the moment those guards walked into the cafe. And with that last blunder...

Cool finality washed over her and her body calmed. They’d dragged her into this game and she lost. It didn’t matter anymore. She just wanted it to be over with.

There was still a chance. A tiny, insignificant, shred of a chance that she hadn’t completely failed. That she could get away.

She steeled herself and, for that chance to hold him again, no matter how small, she held strong.

But yet, minutes passed and there was nothing. No interrogator, no emotions, nothing. And yet still, her forelegs continued to protest.

“Um, excuse me?” Sweet Leaf called out to the empty room. “Would I be able to have my forelegs unlatched? It’s getting really uncomfortable.”

She waited. After a long moment, nothing. Were they ignoring her or was the situation with Roast that big of a deal?

Before she could begin thinking up possibilities, the interrogation room door clicked open. Sweet Leaf looked up to see the guard come in. They all looked the same to her, so she had no idea who it was.

“We can unlatch you from the table until Miss Aura comes back,” the distinct voice of Lieutenant Steel said. “But when she returns, we will have to secure you again.”

“Sure, that makes sense.” She gave him the best smile she could muster. Though, “Miss” Aura? So she’s single, or at least unmarried. Interesting, but rather pointless knowledge, now.

Sweet Leaf watched as the lieutenant grabbed the folder, crystals, box, and briefcase in his magic before levitating a key up to the latch and unlocking it. She pulled her hooves back to her lap and rolled her shoulders.

“Thank you, Lieutenant Steel.”

He merely looked at her for a moment before nodding and turning away, leaving the room and closing the door.

There she sat, glad to at least relax her arms. She would have liked to stand or do anything but sit on her sore flank, really, but she had no desire to push her luck any further than she already had.

And so, with nothing else to do, she waited.

More time passed, what had to have been at least half an hour or more, and still no sign of Aura. Or any of the guards, for that matter. Pointedly, she’d tried her hardest to keep from thinking of what was happening. She still had the heart rate monitor on and she had no desire to give them any more reason to suspect her than the mountain they already had.

Plus, there was far too little information to go on for her to make an educated guess. Roast was upset, then he threw up. Aura left the room to go… check on him. Did he have to be taken to the hospital? Was this all a ruse? Were they getting ready to take her away? She didn’t know.

And you’re speculating again. Firefly sighed through her nose and tried, yet again, to think of nothing. Except when one thinks of nothing, they usually end up thinking about what they’re trying not to.

But then her ears perked up at the sound of a loud clang from the hall. Muffled voices sounded from outside the door and she went as still as she could, listening.

“...doing out here?”

Aura? Firefly thought, trying not to let the surprise show. The anger, determination, resolve, that just barely made it through the walls was… well, Firefly found the implications quite frightening, except none of it showed through the detective’s muffled voice.

The guard outside responded, but it was far too low for Firefly to hear more than garbled talk.

“Well, let me in,” Aura said, her voice much louder. “I’ve only got a couple more things I need from her.”

More unintelligible words from the guard and Sweet Leaf mentally growled at the half a conversation she was getting.

“That’s not necessary. Just come in with me and you can tackle her or whatever you want if she tries anything.”

A moment later, the door opened and the guard entered. In the doorway, stood Aura. Physically, all she was doing was looking at Firefly with slightly narrowed eyes. But, underneath…

So many emotions poured from her. Determination, confusion, resolve, anger, frustration and it was all Firefly could do to keep herself from tensing up.

Aura strode into the room, straight up to the table, and placed both her forehooves onto the table with a clop, her eyes flicking back and forth between Firefly’s own.

In a voice low, almost a growl, she spoke, “Do you love him?”

“W-what?” Firefly stammered, completely unprepared for that question.

“Do. You. Love. Him?” Aura narrowed her eyes.

Firefly couldn’t keep from clenching her jaw. I don’t know what she wants! What is she looking for?! How do I respond?!

“Answer me!” Aura stomped her hoof on the table.

“Miss Aura, I think—”

“Shut up,” Aura snapped at the guard before focusing right back on Firefly.

“Do you love him?” Aura repeated, softer, though her emotions hadn’t changed a single bit.

Firefly swallowed and opened her mouth. “Yes. I love him. I love him more than anything. I would go to the ends of Equestria and back just to feel his embrace.”

Aura simply continued to stare and Firefly clenched her jaw, staring right back. A long moment passed before Aura huffed out her nose, her eyes flicking down from Firefly’s as fatigue and finality became the forefront of the detective’s simmering emotions. “Fine,” she stepped back off the table and turned to the guard. “I’m done. Take her back to her cell.”

“But, ma’am, I need approval from Lieutenant—”

“Lieutenant Steel is occupied with her husband at the moment and I assure you, private, that the lieutenant trusts me and my direction. Return her to her cell.”

The guard looked at her for a short moment before pursing his lips and nodding. “Yes, ma’am.”

Aura turned and went out the door without another word, heading left.

The guard stepped to Firefly. “Please raise your hooves, miss.”

Firefly complied as he reached forward and fumbled his hooves around the strap on her chest. A short moment later, it snapped open and he stepped back, pulling it with him and setting it down next to the observation wall.

“Please get up and exit the room to the right.” The guard pointed a hoof to the door.

Firefly nodded and stood up, shuffling to the door. As she crossed the border into the hall, she peered left and her eyes grew wide in surprise.

There, standing at the end of the hall with the barred door open was Aura, looking back at her.

Their eyes locked. So many emotions were spilling from the mare, one after another, and Firefly couldn’t even begin to guess what was going through her mind.

Soon, an eternity spread across that mere half moment passed and the detective merely gave a tiny nod before turning away down the hall, the door clangling shut behind her.

“Please keep moving, miss.”

“R-right.” Firefly nodded and continued down the hall, following the same path back to the cell hall. Her body walked on as she stared into nothingness. The private let her through the door separating the halls and then into the same first cell on the right.

The cell door clanged shut behind her and immediately, exhaustion pulled at everything she had left. She stumbled to the bed, uncaring about the uncomfortable hoofcuffs or the binding wing cages and dragged herself onto the bed.

She was so tired as she laid there, away from the door. But her mind wouldn’t give her the reprieve of sleep. She put her head in her hooves.

What did she want? Did I say the right thing or did I just confirm everything? What could I have done? Was there even anything I could have done? I don’t understand!

Firefly raised her head, closing her eyes and taking a deep breath. She held it until it forced its way back out as a shaky exhale. Her jaw trembled and tears filled her eyes.

It was all too much.

A throaty gasp tore from her and her eyes drew wide open as she realized. The guards!

With as much subtlety as she could, she leaned her head down and wiped the wetness off her cheek. Clenching her jaw, she stuffed the overwhelmingness back as far as it would go and tried to naturally shift herself so her forehooves hung off the bed.

Glancing left, the tension fell and a flicker of hope drew into her. No guards. They hadn’t posted anypony outside her cell and she’d been so distracted that she mustn't have heard the private leave.

She drew in tight as a shiver ran its way through her body and closed her eyes, letting out a quiet sigh. No need to put on an act. At least for now until they made their determination. Would they send her to Canterlot? Experiment on her?

Opening her eyes, she looked over at the bars of the cell door. Even with the amount of love Roast blessed her with, it couldn’t compensate for the kind of mass reduction she’d need to fit through those bars. And if they were certain she was a changeling, there was no way they’d transfer her with as small of a group as they did that morning. Though there was one thing she was certain of.

She’d lost.

Unless Skitter could get some infiltrators to come for her in the next few days, there was no hope.

A distant clang rang out and her ears flicked to the hallway as her heart skipped a beat. The hoofsteps came closer and dread filled her as the hall door around the corner clunked and squeaked open.

She rose and stepped off the bed. Gathering as much courage as she could muster, she turned and faced the cell door just in time for a pair of stallion and mare guards to come around the corner.

“Sweet Leaf?” Lieutenant Steel said, facing the cell as the other guard stood back near the opposite side of the hall. He looked her in the eyes before smiling and levitating out his keys.

Confusion filled her as he inserted the key into the lock. A clunk resounded and he pulled the cell door open.

“You’re free to go.”

A strangled gasp caught in her throat and she quickly pushed it down with a hard swallow. “I, uh, w-what?” She quite ineloquently sputtered.

“You’re free to go,” he repeated, maintaining his smile. “I apologize deeply for what we’ve put you through today. Miss Aura’s findings confirmed your identity and we have no reason to hold you here.”

Firefly’s mouth opened, but she couldn’t find any words. She’d been so sure…

“Unless you’d like to stay.” Steel gave her a lopsided grin. “I have a lot of paperwork to do tonight and I could use some company.”

“N-no!” she exclaimed, blushing as he let out a hearty laugh. “I mean, I was surprised that you were able to make the determination so soon. I thought there would be more… well, bureaucracy involved.”

“Thankfully, no.” He shook his head, stepping into the cell. “Let me see your hooves, please.”

She sat back and held them out.

“Honestly,” he continued, levitating a key to unlock her cuffs, “it was a huge deal even getting the mayor to agree to the warrant in the first place. And, in the end, I guess his concerns did have some merit.” He hooked the cuffs onto his belt and made a little swirl with his hoof. “Turn around so I can get those wing binders off you.”

Silently, she complied, too afraid to say anything in case it would shatter the reality of the moment. She heard the cages click before feeling them slide off.

She turned as she heard him step back into the hallway.

“Again, I’m really sorry for the rough treatment,” he said, giving her a sympathetic smile and holding his hoof out down the hall. “Please, let’s get you out of here. Your husband is currently waiting in the main lobby and we have a carriage arranged to take you home.”

“Alright. Sure.” Firefly nodded. She wanted to know how. And why. But the thought of seeing him overrode all her thoughts. The lieutenant stepped forward and she followed at his side as he began walking down the hall.

“I’m sure you’d like to get home, so I’ll talk as we walk,” he began as they passed through the open door separating the hall. “I’ve already spoken to Roast about this, but I’d like to inform you as well. We understand that taking you and your husband away from your work in the middle of the day caused a significant loss of income for your business. Please stop by the front office on Monday and they’ll give you a form for reimbursement. We’ll cover…”

Firefly half listened to him as they passed the observation rooms and through the same door Aura had stopped at. She breathed deep, turning left with Steel, trying to keep the wetness out of her eyes.

Closed office doors passed on both sides and then a waiting room alcove on the left. They turned right at the waiting area. Her eyes snapped to the sign hanging from the ceiling, seeing a right arrow and next to it were the only words that mattered.

Main Lobby.

More closed office doors, more unheard words from Steel, and then that final right. As they walked steadily towards that last door, the door labeled “EXIT”, she wanted nothing more than to sprint and burst through to find her love. But she held her gait and breaths steady.

Doors and more doors passed and had the sudden fear that this was just some cruel trick. That somepony would jump out of one of the rooms, crying out that she was a fake and they’d take her away. But the doors remained closed.

Her heart hammered away in her chest as three sets of doors were left.

Two remaining.

One…

Then they were there, standing in front of the door.

She watched as Steel held a hoof forward, twisted the handle, and pushed the door open.

Firefly gazed into the empty seats of the half of the lobby she could see. Her heart continued to tear away in her chest as she took a step and another and peered around the corner.

And there he was. The only one in the lobby.

Her eyes threatened to spill tears as he stood and locked eyes with her, love and adoration and care and joy and love.

She took one measured step after another.

Don’t run. Don’t run.

Five steps.

Four.

Two.

One.

They stopped and looked each other in the eyes. He smiled and tears spilled down his cheeks.

He rushed forward and swept her up in a hug.

“Sweet Leaf. Oh, Sweet Leaf. My Sweet.”

“Roast.” Tears rolled down her own cheeks, uncaring who was watching. “My love.”

A long moment passed as they held each other, basking in the warmth of their mate.

Sweet Leaf loosened her grip and he followed, pulling back from her.

“Thank you,” she said, giving him one more tear filled smile before turning around to see Lieutenant Steel. “We’re ready.”

“Of course.” The lieutenant stepped away from the door and walked around the couple to the main door. “We have a carriage waiting just outside.”

They followed him into the evening air, the sky a beautiful, streaking orange from the setting sun. Ahead was a carriage, pulled by two guards. She watched Lieutenant Steel stop at the side and pull open the door.

“Here you are,” Steel said. “Please remember to visit the front office at some point during the week to fill out reimbursement forms.”

Sweet Leaf felt herself nod and step forward to the carriage. Up she stepped and down she sat, taking the seat at the far end. Looking back, she couldn’t help but smile as Fine Roast finished climbing in and sat next to her.

“I wish you both a good night,” Lieutenant Steel said from outside the carriage.

“Thank you. You as well,” Roast spoke up.

The door swung closed and clicked shut. A moment later, the carriage jerked forward.

Sweet Leaf looked into the eyes of her love and she adored him as he stared back, seeking out her hoof with his own. It was like a dream and she couldn’t believe he was here, with her again. She wanted to say so many things. How much he meant to her. How happy she was to see him.

Instead, her mind said the only thing her mouth could get out.

“H-hi.”

He smiled even brighter. “Hi.”

“I lo—” A choke cut her off and a shaky breath was all she could muster, tears spilling down her face.

“I know. I love you too.” He scooted closer and wrapped her in his warm, loving arms. “I love you, more than anything.”

Warmth greeted him from underneath their cozy blankets. He sucked in deep and stretched, his legs stiffening out and back arching. A few moments later, he relaxed and let out a long, near-silent groan as he slowly opened his eyes. Looking out at the clock on his nightstand, he read four forty-two.

Eight minutes before the alarm, Roast huffed. Normally, he’d be happily getting up and out of bed, ready to get started on the day. But today, all he wanted to do was sleep in. It was Saturday, which meant the cafe opened an hour later than the rest of the week. Though that extra time was usually used to prepare baked goods for the day. Ponies tended to indulge more on the weekend, after all.

The customers would have to temper their sweet tooths a little, but given yesterday, maybe tucking in for an extra hour wouldn’t be such a bad idea. Plus, he sleepily chuckled, Sweet could always use extra sleep.

Decision made, he pulled his hoof out from under the blankets, giving a shiver at the cool morning air as he grabbed his alarm clock. Flipping the clock over in the low light of their bedroom’s night light, he clicked the hour wheel up one and set it back on the nightstand. He smiled a little before carefully shifting, softly turning over so as not to wake his love.

The grin on his face fell and concern overtook him as his wife came into view.

Normally, she’d have a bit of bedmane, but her frazzled hair looked like she’d been tossing and turning all night. He reached a hoof out and brushed aside the locks of mane that covered half of her face.

His frown deepened at her own. Her sleep didn’t look peaceful in the slightest. The corners of her mouth were pulled down and her eyes quickly flicked back and forth beneath their lids.

She needs more than an hour, Roast amended his decision. She’ll get the whole morning, if that’s what it takes.

Just as carefully as before, he turned himself over and scooted out of bed, softly setting his hooves on the hard floor. He made his way out of their bedroom to the hall as quietly as he could, turning around and grabbing the door handle before taking one last look inside. His heart clenched at the sight of her and he found the hate from the observation room bubbling up again.

They had hurt her.

Maybe not physically, but the amount of stress and fear they put her through was more than enough to make Roast irate. When they’d finally got back together the night before, Sweet had cried in the lobby and once they’d arrived home, she had been so tired that all she wanted to do was fall asleep in his forelegs.

But… Roast sighed deeply as he closed the door, they’re not the only ones to blame.

He turned and walked down the hall and into his office. Tapping the light switch on, he headed straight ahead to his desk before sitting down.

In the end, we made it through. He hung his head. But I should have been stronger. I should have been more careful. I wasn’t good enough to protect her. Until the very end, everything I did only made things worse. Even then, the only thing I could do was whimper and grovel and beg.

Roast shook his head. I can’t do this. What if it happens again? I don’t want to be uselessly flailing about. I need her help. I need to know how to do better. He took a deep breath and slowly exhaled, trying to taper off his anger and frustration. But that won’t matter if she’s dead on her hooves.

Straightening up in his seat, he reached up and grabbed a piece of paper. He took a marker from his pen tray and wrote.

Due to unforeseen circumstances, the cafe is closed for the day. We will be open again, bright and early on Monday morning. We are very sorry for the inconvenience.

~Sweet Leaf and Fine Roast

Reading it over, he ended their signature with a little heart and nodded his approval. Capping the marker and putting it back in the tray, he pulled out a roll of tape, ripped off a couple pieces, and applied the strips to the paper’s blank side.

Taking the sign in his mouth, he stood and walked out to the hall and down the stairs. Past the kitchen and into the dining area, he trotted over to the main entrance. The sight through the door’s window gave him pause.

It was pouring rain.

Taking the paper out of his mouth, he frowned. He hadn’t checked the paper yesterday and had forgotten the pegasi had scheduled a downpour for the whole day. Closing up wouldn’t hurt business as bad as it would on a dry day, but he couldn't help feeling extra bad. There would be lots of poor ponies that would make their way to the cafe, only to find their trip was in vain.

Hesitating, he looked down and reread his writing.

He felt most guilty about the ponies that made the cafe a staple of their mornings. If he put the sign up, that would be the third day in the past week that they had either shut down early or were closed entirely. It wasn’t unreasonable to think that some of them might find a new cafe to frequent.

But, in the end, he sighed and pressed the sign to the window, smoothing it out. Taking care of their customers was necessary to maintain business, but…

His wife was more important and he’d choose her every time.

Giving the sign one last apologetic look, he turned and headed back to the kitchen and up the stairs. He came up to their bedroom and raised a hoof to the door handle, softly twisting it with a quiet click before pushing the door open.

He stepped into the room and his eyes trailed over to the bed. She was still there on her side, mane still as mussed as when he left. Pausing in the doorway, he tapped a hoof on his chin.

Hm, maybe I can cook her breakfast later. I bet some nice eggs and toast in bed would make her morning.

Happy with his plan for later, he carefully tiphooved to his nightstand and picked up his alarm. Flicking the switch off and setting it back, he took a single step over and pulled his side of the covers down. He stepped both left hooves onto the mattress before lying down, bringing his right hooves up and shimmying his way under the blankets.

He froze mid pull of the covers as a sharp inhale and groan came from the other side of the bed.

“Ergh, is it time already?” Sweet Leaf groggily spoke.

Aw, horseapples. Roast nearly grunted his disappointment in himself as he pulled the blankets all the way up and laid down. “No, sweetheart. I just had to get up for a minute.”

“Mmm, m’kay,” his beautiful wife groused as she turned herself over and curled up tighter under the blankets.

Roast scooted over and wrapped a hoof around her shoulder, pulling himself lightly against her back and wings. He shut his eyes and buried his muzzle in her mane, breathing deep the very particular and familiar scent of his wife. With any luck, she’d get right back to sleep and he’d follow right after.

But yet, a moment later, Sweet Leaf’s mane tickled his snout as she leaned up.

“Roast,” Sweet’s tired voice intoned, “it’s just after five.”

“Yes, it is,” he evenly replied, hoof still laying on her shoulder.

“We need to get up.”

“No, it’s okay. We don’t need to.” Roast gave her a little loving squeeze. “You looked exhausted, so I decided to close the cafe today so you could get some more sleep.”

“You decided?” Sweet Leaf retorted, turning over and facing him.

His pleasant smile quickly soured as his wife’s frown came into view. She settled down on the bed and his stomach tightened as her half lidded eyes tiredly moved back and forth between his.

“What do you mean ‘you decided?’” She chided. “Roast, we own the cafe together and we’re husband and wife.”

“I… yes, I know, but I was trying to help you. After everything that happened yesterday, I thought it would be good to sleep in.”

A deep sigh came from Sweet Leaf as slowly blinked and took a deep breath before continuing. “I don’t need—I’m not…” she let out a low growl and rubbed a hoof along her face. “Yes, you’re right. I really could use some more sleep. I’m not in the right mind to discuss this right now. We can talk about it later, okay?”

He searched her eyes in return. I don’t understand. I’ve closed up the cafe before and she didn’t have a problem then. Why now?

“Are you… upset?” he chanced.

Sweet gave another tired sigh. “Yes.” She shook her head. “No. I mean… ugh. Remember when I said I was trying to figure out my feelings?”

Roast nodded and couldn’t help the rising feeling of guilt. That’s right we never did get to have our talk.

“It’s about that. I’m not upset with you, well, I am or was, but…” she groaned again. “I’m not awake enough to talk about this. Can we go back to sleep and deal with this later, please?”

“Of course.” He gave her the best smile he could manage, even if his mouth wanted to keep doing the opposite. “And, for what it’s worth, I’m sorry."

“It’s okay. We’ll figure this out.” She returned his smile before laying her head down on the pillow and closing her eyes.

He did the same, but a frown took over his face again at the discomfort of facing her. Instead, he turned over and settled back down. Even if he didn’t actually hurt her, it still stung to know he’d done something to upset her.

“Roast?” Sweet quietly asked before he felt a hoof on his side.

“Yes?” He was torn between laying there and doing the husbandly thing to turn over to face her as she talked.

“Thank you for thinking of me.”

The sentiment helped ease his mind, if only a tiny bit. “You’re welcome.”

He laid there, closing his eyes and trying to find sleep. For a long few moments, he fought his treacherous mind as it tried to remind him of every little thing he might have said or done to offend her.

Sheets rustling behind him interrupted his thoughts. Right as he began to turn himself around, he felt his wife wrap a hoof around his side and her body snuggle close to his back.

A smile came unbidden onto his face and he reached a hoof to lay on hers.

Together, it was easier to ignore those thoughts and, a couple minutes later, his hoof fell back to the bed as sleep claimed him.

The strong scent of coffee and baked goods greeted his nose. He inhaled deeply and began his morning stretch. Slowly, his eyes opened and he took in the empty half of his wife’s side of the bed.

He scrunched his eyes tight. Ugh, what—

His eyes shot open. Wait, coffee? She didn’t… did she? He quickly turned over and checked his clock. Almost ten-thirty? Sweet Celestia, I slept for that long?

The scent of coffee came again and his eyes trailed over to the open bedroom door. He couldn't hear the clamor of voices and utensils, but that only placated him the tiniest bit.

Pursing his lips, he pulled the covers back and got out of bed before walking to the door. As he reached the hall, he realized the smell and sounds seemed to be coming from the left, towards their apartment’s kitchen and not from the cafe downstairs.

Oh come on, he rolled his eyes. That’s almost just as bad.

Making his way down the hall, the smell grew stronger and as he entered the kitchen, he saw his wife standing at a counter on the far wall. He noted her mane looked much less tangled than it had earlier that morning, but it was still unkempt. His eyes flicked to the two trays with full plates and glasses in front of her. As he opened his mouth, she turned around and looked right at him.

“Honey?” Sweet Leaf asked. “Aw, shoot. I knew I shouldn’t have opened the door.”

“Opened the door?” Roast asked, his sleep addled mind still struggling to process complex ideas.

“Yeah. I was about to bring these trays,” she glanced behind her and pointed a wing to the rectangular platters, “into the room for some breakfast in bed.”

“Ugh. I knew it,” he grumbled.

She furrowed her brows. “Knew it? What do you mean? What’s wrong?”

He raised an eyebrow at her in return. “You can’t read minds, can you?”

“Uh, no…?” She half answered, tilting her head.

Roast merely gave a little frustrated sigh. “Because I was planning on making you breakfast in bed after I woke up.”

Sweet Leaf straightened and gave him a sympathetic frown. “Oh. I’m sorry. I woke up an hour or so ago and I got kind of hungry. I thought it would be nice to make us some food.” She nodded behind herself. “Which is ready, if you are.”

“I suppose so, sure. Can we eat at the table, though? I don’t think my back would like being hunched over in bed right now.”

“Sure!” She brightened up and turned around, grabbing a tray in either wing.

He turned and walked to the table, sitting down at his normal spot on the right side, facing the hallway. Looking over, he watched as his wife placed a tray in front of him and set her own at the end of the table. Turning his attention back to his tray, he saw an array of food. Fruit, eggs, a bagel with cream cheese, a couple veggie patties, and some orange juice.

His gaze moved back to Sweet as she finished sitting and pulled her chair in. “Thank you for the food, Sweetie.”

“You’re welcome.” She smiled back at him.

He grabbed his fork and knife with both hooves’ gripping fields and saw his wife do the same with her wings. A stray thought ran through his mind and he paused. “Wait a second, I just realized” he interjected, causing his wife to pause mid cut through her over easy egg. “You’re a changeling.”

“Um… yes?” Sweet raised an eyebrow at him for the second time that morning.

“I thought changelings ate, erm, love?” he half asked.

“Ah. I think I understand.” She finished cutting her egg before stabbing a slice of toast in her fork and mopping up the spilt yolk. “We do, but that’s not the only thing we need. A lot of mares would be hesitant to eat a lot of this, right?” she wiggled her skewered toast before putting it in her mouth.

“Well,” Sweet Leaf said as she chewed and then swallowed her bite, “I can eat as much as I want. See, changelings can’t process carbohydrates like ponies can. But we still need protein and fats.” She took another bite.

“Huh.” Roast grabbed a half slice of bagel. “Then why eat it?” he asked, taking his first bite.

“Simple answer?” Sweet Leaf shrugged, still chewing. “‘Cause it tastes good.”

Fine Roast smiled and huffed in amusement. “That’s fair, I suppose.”

Slowly his smile dropped as he began eating his own meal and silence seemed to reign. In the back of his mind, he knew they still needed to talk and couldn’t help but wonder if she was still upset at him.

He glanced over at her and as she glanced back, he gave her a little smile, both of their mouths busy. He turned back to his own meal, mentally sighing. What I wouldn’t give to be able to know what she’s feeling.

His mind went back to the same thought he’d had more than a couple times since Sweet Leaf had said something was wrong. They hadn’t had more than maybe one or two big talks like what it felt like needed to happen now. And even those talks seemed fairly tame.

He couldn’t help but feel a little… intimidated? Afraid? Anxious? He honestly wasn’t sure what the feeling was. I wonder if she’d be able to tell me what the feeling is.

Soon enough, breakfast was over and for what was not the first time in the last few days, Roast was at a loss of what to say to his wife next.

“Would you like—”
“Do you want—”

“Sorry, you—”
“Oh, go ahe—”

“Pfft…” Roast held in a laugh, seeing a bit of amusement on Sweet Leaf’s face as well. “I don’t think we’ve fumbled over each other since before we got married.”

“Yeah,” Sweet giggled, though it didn’t have the same jovial ring that her giggles usually had. “This is really silly.”

He watched as her smile slowly dropped and saw her take a deep breath, holding it for a couple seconds, before letting it out long and slow. Her eyes met his again.

“I know you’re a little nervous about this and, well, so am I. But it’s just us,” she reached out and set a hoof on his, “only you and I. We don’t need to be afraid of each other, right?”

“Yeah.” He gave her as confident a smile as he could. “You’re right. We don’t.”

Sweet Leaf’s smile wavered for a moment before it dropped entirely, another sigh escaping her lips. “And yet we still are. Here, how about this. If you wouldn’t mind cleaning up the dishes, I’ll go take a shower. Then you can do the same after I’m done. But,” she squeezed his hoof and looked him in the eyes, “let’s keep in mind that both of us want to work this out and neither of us want to hurt the other or leave. Okay?”

His smile was much less forced this time. “Alright, yeah. I think we can manage that.”

“Good.” She returned his smile and squeezed his hoof once more before pulling it away. “I’ll see you in a little bit.”

He watched her scoot her chair back and turn to walk down the hall. Right. We both want the same thing. We’re just a normal couple trying to work out an issue. It’ll be okay.

With reassurance in hoof, he stood up and got to work with the dishes, stacking them and carrying them over to the sink. As the soapy dishes began piling up, he tried to pin down exactly why he was so nervous. He knew nothing bad would come of this talk, but even still there were those lingering ‘what ifs.’

She’d love him no matter what was brought up, he knew this. But that did nothing to ease his nervousness. Losing her love wasn’t it. They were going to talk to resolve an issue, so her ending up angry at him wasn’t it either.

He huffed in frustration as he side stepped to the other side of the sink and began rinsing. I don’t know what it is! And that’s so… aggravating!

Then he froze as it hit him.

Or at least part of it did. His eyes stayed locked onto the warm water rushing over his still hooves. He didn’t know what the problem was and the idea of that resonated with the anxiety in his heart.

The unknown was scary.

Not knowing what the issue was or even what he was doing wrong was hard to deal with. There was no way to plan for or find a solution if he didn’t know what she was upset about in the first place. The only thing to do was…

Trust her.

Trust. The word rang out in his mind as he began rinsing the dishes again and setting them on the rack to dry. That word, that concept seemed to keep rearing its head lately, ever since, well, since he’d confronted her about who she was.

But, he scrunched his brows in thought, that’s not quite right. I’ve been trusting her for years. It’s only now that I’ve been thinking about it.

That I’ve been questioning it.

The realization hit him harder than even her anger at him earlier in the morning had. He placed the last fork on the drying rack, shut off the water, and sat down right where he was. A frown had overtaken his face at some point, he noticed, and it felt fitting.

Does this… make me a bad husband? Does keeping her happy and safe even matter if I can’t stop questioning my trust in her?

It seemed so much easier before he confronted her about what she was. Everything was smooth and pleasant. There’d been hardly any fights and he’d been confident in her and her judgment. He was able to stand up for her and nuzzle her safe and sound afterward.

For a split second, before he could catch himself, he wished they could go back to that.

Roast vigorously shook his head. No! I will not stand for wanting to take the coward’s way out. I will handle this.

He stood and turned to the hallway. We will get through this. Together.

Fine Roast stood on the cold, bathroom tile. With his mane freshly dried and brushed, he took a deep breath and opened the door, letting the warm steam flood into their bedroom.

Sweet Leaf wasn’t there, he noticed as he stepped through the doorway. Continuing through the bedroom, he walked down the hall, deeper into the upstairs living area. His office light was off, but the light spilling into the hall from their living room caught his attention.

His hooves clopped along the hardwood floor as he took the last few steps to the doorless frame. Turning into the room, there she was.

From the back side of the couch, he saw her sitting on the far side, facing away. Into the room he stepped, coming around the couch, her head turning as he took a seat on the opposite side.

“Did you have a nice shower?” Sweet Leaf asked, giving him a little smile as he settled down.

“Yeah, it was pretty nice, same as any other.” Roast replied, returning her a smile of his own.

“That’s good.” She looked away, towards the fireplace past the coffee table in front of them.

He couldn't help but feel kind of awkward. How was one supposed to start these kinds of conversations anyway? Just jump right in? It seemed impertinent to be so blunt. Maybe he could—

“So I figured out why I’ve been frustrated with you.”

Or his wife could jump right into the deep end. “Ah,” Roast lamely ah’d. “And, uh, why is that?”

She sighed, staring down at the coffee table in front of them. “I’ve been thinking about this a lot and it’s… a few things, honestly. But, before Wavy Palette started this fiasco, I’d been trying to figure out how to even talk about them. I think I've realized I need to explain more about me and the changelings so you can… understand.”

About her? And her species? Roast furrowed his brow. Thoughts of double agents and back-alley deals filled his mind before he could reign it in. “Alright.”

She took a deep breath. “So, I’m what you call a ‘collector,’ and you, the special somepony to a collector, are what we call a ‘source.’” Sweet Leaf began, turning to look at him. “After we finish our primary education, we move on to specialties. There are all kinds: collectors, gatherers, workers, transporters, couriers, and lots more. Many serve special functions while some are more multi-purpose, like workers. Each specialty has its own training.”

Roast simply nodded, trying to take in every bit of the other half of his wife's life.

“Right, so, collectors. Our job is to, well, collect love. We find a pony that has the potential for a relationship, feel them out, and, if the prospect is promising, we try to get to know them and begin to form a more romantic relationship.

“Or, at least that’s what I did with you.”

“Right,” Roast repeated, nodding again. “I think I gathered that bit from our conversation the first night.”

“Yeah…” She trailed off, looking away. “The, uh, other method is finding somepony who’s already in a relationship. Essentially, we stalk them, learning as much as we can before we replace them or their special somepony. Those we replace go back and become part of our love supply, put into deep sleeps and made to dream of their loved ones.”

Her eyes turned away from his and she took a deep breath. “Roast, before we talk about you, there are things you need to know about me. About what I’ve done.”

Roast snapped his eyes over to her. “Sweet…” He began, but her posture gave him pause. He hadn’t noticed earlier, but gone was her confident, upright stance. Instead she seemed tense, pulled into herself as she laid there. Even her sunset colored tail was wrapped around her between them, the end settled over her forehooves.

She’s nervous? Scared? It didn’t matter which. This time, he wouldn’t let hesitation keep him from his duties.

He shuffled over and, with the same gesture she often liked to do, he laid a hoof on top of her tail covered one. “I already told you, I don’t care what you did before. It’s who you are now that matters to me.”

She simply huffed and looked at him with a strained smile. “Thank you, but I want you to know. I think you deserve it.”

He held his stare for a moment longer before breathing in and exhaling. “Alright. If that’s what you think needs to happen, then I’ll listen.”

Sweet Leaf turned back to the unlit fireplace, her mouth still closed. A long moment passed and Roast began to consider if he should do something. Even if it was only squeezing her hoof or rubbing her back. However, his indecision decided for him and he cursed himself as she began.

“You aren’t my first source,” she said, still staring away from Roast. “Before we got together, I had another stallion. Most of the inexperienced collectors usually stick to disguises of their own gender. It’s easier, most of the time, and I was no exception.

“Though, I was an exception in how I got my source. In training, they teach us it’s often best to craft a new disguise and build a relationship from the ground rather than replacing a pony. I wasn’t the best trainee in my batch, but I was no slouch either. So, I got cocky and decided I’d do my first the other way around.”

She snorted. “And I paid for it.

“Not right away, but over time things began to build up. I didn’t do a good enough job looking into the couples’ histories and I got complacent after I replaced her. Not but a year after we got together, some foalhood friends of theirs came by unexpectedly and I had no idea who they were. I salvaged it initially, but he confronted me later that night after they’d left. He wouldn’t let up about it and after some heated discussions, he started grilling me about everything.

“I couldn’t answer enough of them." She closed her eyes and after a short moment, she opened them again and continued.

“So, one fight and two days later, he was in a cocoon while the cleanup crew made their way to replace us and then disappear. The day after they took my place, I moved to a new town and started looking for a new source.”

He waited and after realizing she must have been done, he squeezed her hoof, not quite sure what to say. His wife essentially… no not essentially, he mentally shook his head. She did tear a couple apart then discard the mare’s special somepony when he was no longer of any use. He wanted to be upset at her or outraged at the love that was broken and wasted, but... she didn’t do it out of malice.

So, he stuffed all those feelings away and said the only thing he could think of. “What were their names?”

She turned to him with a wry smile that didn’t make it to her eyes. “Why, you gonna turn me in?”

Roast pulled his hoof back, giving her a deadpan look before softening. “No. What’s done is done. I was only curious.”

Sweet’s smile dropped and looked down at the floor in front of her. “Well, you already met one of them.”

He furrowed his brow, thinking through all the ponies they’d met, but none of them stood out to him. Then his eyebrows shot back up in realization. “The mare you were when you came back. Erm, Mint Something?”

“That’s the one,” she nodded, “Orange Mint. I’ll admit I wasn’t in the best of minds when I chose that disguise. It would have been a one in a million chance, but if anypony did recognize me, it would have been pretty disastrous. But, to answer the other half of your question, the stallion's name was Cherry Strudel. He worked at a bakery while his wife worked at an ice cream parlor.”

Roast tilted his head at her. “A baker then an aspiring barista? Seems a bit more than a coincidence.”

“It should. In the last couple years of collector training, each trainee is required to choose and learn a specialty. Mine was in cooking.”

“Cooking. So that’s why you make such amazing breakfasts?”

It seemed it was Sweet’s turn at giving a deadpan stare. “Yes, because eggs, toast, bagels, and some fried patties are sooo hard to make.”

“You’d be surprised,” Roast said, unfazed by her sarcasm. “My brother couldn’t be trusted with a toaster, let alone a frying pan. So, Cherry Strudel and the real Orange Mint,” he began, changing the subject back, “they’re at your hive, then?”

“Yeah,” she turned her eyes away from his again. “That’s what happens to ponies we replace and ponies who dig too deep. Or, at least, it was before the invasion.”

“Mmm,” he hummed and idly looked over to the empty fireplace, not really sure what to say next. She seemed uncomfortable talking about her previous coltfriend, so he figured that was a good topic to veer away from. Well, no better time than now to talk about why we’re here in the first place.

“So,” Roast spoke up, turning to her again, “you said I needed to know more about changelings before we could talk about why you were upset with me. Have we, well, covered enough?”

“Kind of.” She sighed before looking him in the eyes. “Roast, you asked that first morning, that if I had the choice now, if I would still replace another pony rather than creating a new disguise. My answer hasn’t changed, but I don’t feel guilty about what I did. Because of me and the dozens of other collectors across Equestria, my hive and queen are still alive.”

Roast nodded. “I know.” He remembered that conversation well and, even now, he was still pleasantly surprised he’d somehow managed to convince her to stay.

She gave him an odd look. “You know?”

“Sweet,” Roast began, “you mentioned the same thing then, though maybe less explicitly. Well, my answer hasn’t changed either. I still love you and, while I don’t agree with what the changelings have done, I can understand it.”

Her mouth opened and closed once, then twice before she broke away from his eyes and stared down at the little bit of couch between them.

“Honey?” he asked, putting a hoof on her withers. “Is this… what you’ve been afraid of?

She took a deep breath and let it out slowly, meeting his gaze again. “I suppose it’s a little silly, but that’s part of it.”

He merely smiled and ran his hoof along her shoulders and back, letting her continue when she was ready.

“After this, I’m afraid our relationship’s dynamic is going to change and I’m afraid it’s going to change for the worse.”

Roast opened his mouth to reply, but she raised a hoof to stop him.

“I know that problems can’t get solved if we don’t address them. I’m merely stating my feelings. Which, there's still another thing to mention before we get to the rest of them.”

She let out another little sigh and grimaced. “To start with a dumb statement, changelings are manipulative. It’s kind of our thing, collectors and infiltrators even more so. We’re trained in it, how to make a pony feel what we want them to feel, how to cause strife, how to prevent strife. Except, real relationships are kinda complicated.” She rolled her eyes. “Yes, I know, another dumb statement. But collectors make those relationships less complicated, in a way. Where a partner might get frustrated with something their special somepony does, a collector can choose not to be affected.

“For us, it’s not a real relationship. It’s a job.”

Roast’s eyebrows shot up and he pulled his hoof back. It all suddenly made sense. “So, things that I’ve done that annoyed you, you’d just shrug them off?”

“Essentially.” Sweet Leaf nodded. “But there’s a little more to it than that. Not only do we shrug off annoyances, we do what we can to make you feel like the relationship is growing. We instigate fights when we feel the resulting makeup will make you feel more attached. We reasonably capitulate in arguments if it means a ‘deeper’ connection, and we resist when we think it would be more beneficial. Though, again, relationships are complicated and it doesn’t always work the way we want.

“All of that is why I’ve hardly ever shown anger or gotten into a fight with you. I never felt it was necessary.”

Humming for a short moment, he could barely remember when their last fight was. He was pretty sure it was some time early the year before. “Does this mean we’re overdue for a few fights?”

“After yesterday?” She snorted. “I don’t think I’m even remotely in the mood to fight. I imagine this talk will more than suffice.”

Roast nodded. “Right. So, you say that changelings treat relationships like a job. Except I can’t help but notice that’s not exactly what ours is.”

“No, it isn’t." Sweet Leaf shook her head. "Not now, anyway. I suppose you can thank… well, a lot of different things for that.”

He raised an eyebrow at her. “Hmm?”

“For one, you can thank my own incompetence.”

His raised eyebrow quickly turned into a glare. “Hey, there’s no need for that kind of self—”

“If I had been competent,” she interrupted with a raised eyebrow and a half frown, “you never would have seen me those few years back.”

Roast opened his mouth, but only tiny, half formed sounds formed his objection. A short moment later, he clicked his jaw shut and huffed. “Fine. I guess you have a point.”

“I know. And secondly, collector training was somewhat lacking in that area."

"Lacking?" Roast's eyebrows furrowed.

"Yeah. There's actually a little section, maybe half a day long, about not mixing our role's feelings for our own. But no'ling, including the instructor, took it seriously. Because honestly, what kind of changeling could fall in love with a pony?"

Roast smiled and put a hoof on hers. "Well, I'm glad to have proven that wrong with you."

Her eyes swiftly rolled in her sockets. She reached her unheld hoof over and bapped him on the snoot. "You sap."

"But I'm your sap." He leaned over and nuzzled her and he felt her lean back into his snout.

A moment later, she pulled back and turned her eyes back to him. "But, I'm not the first to fall in love with one of you."

Roast pulled back as well. "Oh?"

"Mhm. I recently found out that the leader of us changelings here in Hoofington, Skitter is her name, she fell in love with her last source. Except she did the right thing and reported it as soon as she noticed. The hive instructed her to abandon him and had him sent back to the hive."

"Sounds… really coldhearted."

"A little bit. And uh," she looked at him and gave a little, sheepish grin, "she kind of knows about us already."

"What?!" Roast reeled his head back and his eyes grew wide. "What do you mean? Isn't that kind of, well, bad?"

Sweet Leaf gave a little grimace. “I would normally say ‘yes,’ but in this case it seems to be working to our advantage.”

He opened his mouth to reply, but found he didn’t quite know what to say. Instead, he merely pursed his lips and raised an eyebrow at her.

“I uh, well, she figured it out on her own,” She continued. “I had to tell her what happened with Wavy and Spindle, erm Bobby Pin.”

“Right, I remember you mentioning her real name. But how did that lead to Skittle or whatever figuring everything out?”

“Skitter, and,” Sweet Leaf took a deep breath and let out a long, deep sigh, “it just… snowballed out of control. I don’t know if you remember the overly enthusiastic pink mare that came by before I went off to my meeting.”

At her glance, he nodded his head. He’d dealt with interesting customers before, but that one definitely stood out.

She continued. “It seems like it had been one crisis after another and I accidentally let it show in my real emotions. He, er well, she, the pink mare, who is actually a male changeling, noticed and brought it up during that meeting. Skitter baited more emotions from me and I fell right into it."

"Oh… kay?" That did nothing to abate his concern and he was sure she could feel it. "And this isn't bad, why?"

She glanced over and gave him a stink eye. “If you’d let me finish…”

“Alright, sorry. Go ahead.” He shut his mouth and gave her a little nod.

“Thank you. As I was saying, she baited me into it, but we came to an agreement. I would try to deal with this and she would help me. By her logic, the last thing the hive needs right now is to lose yet another collector. Stars know how many we’ve lost at this point. So, I’ll be ‘working’ with her to curb my attachment to you.”

Roast hummed. It helped alleviate some of his worry, but it sounded too convenient. “And that’s that? You don’t think there will be any more baiting or anything?”

“I think it’s possible, but I’m prepared now. We’ve gone through so much already in this last week, and somehow come out on top. I don't know how it happened, but I am not going to let her be the one that takes us apart.”

Roast let out a tiny sigh. He wanted to ask ‘what if this’ and ‘what if that,’ but she was the experienced one here. He’d barely managed to fumble his way through convincing the detective.

“Though," Sweet Leaf slowly began again, "that tangent aside, all that is to say, it wasn't until recently that Sweet Leaf's feelings for you began to bleed into my own. I don't know exactly when it began, maybe half a year ago, but it started slow and I didn't realize it until I started getting jealous of myself.

"And therein lies the problem. There's a dozen reasons why it couldn't work. Ignoring the fact that my species is essentially a bunch of love sucking parasites, our relationship was built off of my acquiescence to your desires."

A heavy rock settled in his stomach. Was she lying when she said neither one of us were wanting to leave? "So," he managed with a swallow, "you're saying you don't think this can work after all?"

She shook her head and hummed in the negative. "If this had been a year or two ago, I would have absolutely said that was the case. But over time, I began to do these things because I, Firefly, wanted to do them, not just because I needed to keep appearances. I began to enjoy your touches, your caresses, and your care. But… even though I'd convinced myself that affection wasn't mine to take, those positives came with negatives as well."

The admission helped calm his nerves, but the problem still remained. "So, then, the issue is me. I've had free rein over our relationship since we got together. But, I don't really know what I'm doing wrong."

She turned and faced him on the couch, putting her hoof on his and on her face grew one of the tender smiles he loved most. "First off, the issue is us. We both have problems and we're both trying to help the other as much as ourselves. Second, there have been more than a few times when I'd give you little nudges in the direction I wanted you to go. So don't think you're the only one that had a say in this relationship. I am a manipulative little bug, after all.” She leaned in and gave him a little nuzzle.

"And finally," she pulled back, the smile still there, "you not knowing is exactly why we're here."

“Alright.” Roast took a breath and tried to return her smile. “So… then what is it? What do I need to change?”

“Honey,” Sweet Leaf squeezed his hoof, “I don’t want you to think these are deal breakers. They’re simply things we need to work on, together, okay?”

“I know, I know. I’m just still getting used to this whole thing. So, please," he looked her in the eyes, doing his best to feel the love he so brightly carried for her, "I'd like to know what's been bothering you.”

“Yeah, okay.” She took a deep breath. “The first thing I wanted to talk about is your tendency to, well, be overprotective. I love you and you make me feel special when you stand up for me. But, I am a big filly and I am able to defend myself. A lot of training made sure of that.”

“Right.” Roast nodded and broke his eyes away from hers. He didn’t want to admit it, but it did sting a little. It wasn’t like he was trying to be overprotective or smothering. She was his, just as he was hers and when someone attacked her, it was like they were attacking him.

“Hey.” Sweet squeezed his hoof again and he trailed his sight back up to her kind eyes. “Just because I don’t need you to, doesn’t mean I don’t want you to. I’d simply like you to keep in mind that there will be times when I want or need to take control of a situation. With my hive on one side of us and pony kind on the other, I think that's probably going to be the nature of this relationship from here on.

“And to be honest,” she looked down, away from his eyes, “I kind of understand how you feel. Back before all this started, when you were still at the coffee convention, one of the hive's gatherers came to pick up my love crystals. He made a remark about how you seemed too good to be true and that there might be some other motivation behind your actions.”

She looked back up at him. “For a tiny moment, I nearly told him off and… and I really wanted to. But that would have been bad, to say the least. So, please believe me when I say I understand, at least a little.”

“I believe you.” Roast said, a genuine smile coming across his face. It was rather heartwarming for him to hear her say it, once again, that she felt so strongly for him. "And I feel honored that you feel that way."

A soft smile came across her face and her eyes remained on his for a moment longer before her smile slowly dissolved to a neutral line. "There… was another thing."

Roast nodded again and gave her a reassuring smile. "Of course, Sweet. Go ahead."

"It’s, well,” she paused, gazing off to the fireplace, humming. After a moment, her eyes turned back to him again. “I suppose this morning would be a good example of it. You have a tendency to, uh, make decisions for me.”

His brows furrowed and head tilted. “I didn’t, I mean, I only did it—”

“Please,” she interrupted, “let me finish.”

He tightened his lips and remained silent.

“I understand that these decisions are made to help me in some way. I get that and I don’t mind you doing little things every now and then, like making breakfast or letting me rest at the end of the day while you clean.” She took a deep breath and continued. “But when you do it frequently and with bigger impact, it feels like I’m less of a participant in our relationship and more of a… recipient.

“Which, uh,” Sweet Leaf stared off behind him for a second and gave a couple mirthless chuckles, “oh.”

“Honey?” Roast asked, “What is it?”

Her eyes snapped back to his, a shaky smile on her lips. “I just realized that’s exactly what I was.”

He merely squinted an eye and rose a brow.

“A recipient. Early on in our relationship, it didn’t matter to me who made the decisions. Love was what I needed and how I got it was fairly unimportant to me.” She let out a sigh and gave him a half smile. “I guess what I’m trying to say is it’s not really your fault.”

“Sweetheart,” Roast admonished, “That’s not very fair. You say these problems are ours to work on, that it’s our relationship. It takes two to make one and we both are responsible.”

“It’s less that and more... about me. This was even part of our training, in a way, about the psychology of creatures. You see, ponies and changelings and lots of other species like to test the waters, so to speak. We push our luck to see what’s acceptable and what isn’t, what we can and cannot get away with. And we don’t always do it consciously. When we find that something benefits us or works towards one of our goals, we see if we can do more of that thing.

“In your case, your father taught you to treat mares well, right?”

He nodded.

“And that was your goal, to treat me right in your own way. You tested it, you made little decisions, took little burdens off me without asking and I didn’t rebuke or refute you. There was no negative stimuli for you, so you did it more. Eventually, it became the norm because, for me, you were a means to an end and I was only minimally concerned with how that means ended.

“So,” Sweet took a deep breath and let it out in a huff, “how we got here isn’t entirely your fault, nor is it mine. But where we go from here is both our responsibilities. Does that make sense?”

Roast looked away. It did make sense, he supposed. All I wanted was to make her happy. I thought taking up some of her slack would do just that and it certainly seemed to.

He let out a sigh of his own before looking back to her. “Yes, it does make sense, even if my mind is telling me to argue. So, then the next step would be to… stop doing those things?”

“The next step,” she said, a smile growing on her face, “is to work on this together. You be more conscious of what you’re doing and I’ll speak up more when I feel you’re doing it. How’s that sound?”

“It sounds good.” He returned her smile for a moment. “Was that it or were there any other things.”

“I think…” she trailed off with another sigh. “I think that’s it. Well, except for one thing. Really small.” She pursed her lips and looked away.

“Okay, big or small, I’m ready.”

“Could you… not use up all the hot water when you shower?”

Roast stared at her for a long moment before bursting into laughter.

“Honey! I’m serious!”

“I know,” he said, trying to get his mirth under control. “I know, I’m sorry! I'll try to be more conscious of my shower time. It’s just, after all this, it feels really good to talk and get it off our chests. I don't think I need to be able to feel others' emotions to tell that I wasn't the only one that was just a little terrified about this talk.”

Sweet Leaf nodded. “Yeah, no, you’re right. I was afraid of how you’d take it and I was afraid I’d end up sounding accusatory and make you upset.”

“Mmm. Well, we can both put to bed our fears now, right?”

“Right.”

“Though, Sweetie.” Roast began. “I do have a question.”

Her ears perked up. “Hm? What’s that?”

“I’ve been trying to figure something out in my head for the last few days, but I can't come up with an answer. What do you want me to call you?”

“Call me? What do you mean?”

“I mean, when we’re alone, like this, do I call you Sweet Leaf or should I call you Firefly?”

“Oh, I see.” She hummed for a moment. "I think I’d like to be called Firefly.”

“Firefly. I like saying that name. It sounds like—”

A loud knock resounded downstairs.

His heart jumped in his chest and his wife’s eyes snapped to his with the same questioning look he gave her.

“You’re not expecting anyone, are you?” Roast tentatively asked.

“N-no.” She shook her head. “I’m not.”

He took a deep breath and stood up from the couch. “I’ll see who—”

“I think we should both go check it.”

“Okay. Alright. Heh, maybe it's just an annoyed customer.”

She didn't laugh and he couldn't deny that he wasn't in the mood to laugh either.

He stepped around the couch, his ears flicking back at the sound of his wife following. As he rounded the corner into the hallway, another set of knocks came at their kitchen door. He turned the hallway's final corner and they made their way down the stairs.

At the final step, the back door came into view and he took a deep breath. He stepped into the kitchen and took the last few steps to it, the heavy rain outside resounding against the door and alleyway.

“Wait!” Sweet Leaf whispered.

Roast’s head flicked back to his wife, looking at her with the unasked question.

After a long moment of pause, she continued, “Who-whoever it is, they're full of anxiety and fear… and resolve and-and so much more.”

His lips straightened into a line as he nodded and turned back to the door. He raised his hoof to the handle, praying it wasn’t yet another trial for the two of them.

The handle clicked and he pulled it open.

“Hello?” Roast asked, arching a brow at the raincoat-covered pony. With the darkness of the sky, he couldn’t make out much of the pony’s face underneath the hood.

“Mister Roast?”

Roast’s eyebrows shot up at the familiar voice. “Miss Aura?”

Sweet Leaf walked down the stairs after her husband. She hated this. Her gut told her something was wrong and she’d been taught to follow her gut. That niggling, sinking feeling in her stomach usually meant her brain realized something was out of place, something that she didn’t.

Though, it didn’t take her gut to tell her that. Before this whole disaster started, her and Roast would rarely get any unannounced visitors after closing hours. His friends and her collectors knew how busy they were in the evenings and how exhausting thirteen hours of work, six days a week could be. But here they were, receiving the third visitor at their private door in a mere week.

She stepped down off the last stair turning the same as Roast towards the back door. Three steps later she froze.

“Wait!” Sweet Leaf quietly exclaimed.

Roast quickly turned his head to face her, an eyebrow raised in question.

Something was very not right. The pony’s emotions outside, she could barely feel them through the door and they were everywhere. All over the place. “Who-whoever it is, they're full of anxiety and fear… and resolve and-and so much more.”

A simple nod was all he gave in response. She watched as he turned back to the door, raising his hoof to the handle.

She wanted to yell at him, tell him to stop, to run away in the other direction. They’d nearly been torn apart the very day before. Sweet Chrysalis, they hadn’t even been able to talk about that! Yet here it was, another attempt the world was making at them. She knew it. It had to be.

What else could it be?

But something stayed her voice. She didn’t know what it was, but all she could do was watch as that door clicked open, the torrent of rain making itself well known as it slammed into the pavement and the cafe.

“Hello?” Roast asked, the pony seeming to be just out of Firefly’s line of sight.

“Mister Roast?” Came the half drowned out response.

Mister Roast? Sweet Leaf scrunched her eyebrows, then her eyes shot open. I know that voice! That’s—

“Miss Aura?” Roast asked, his voice tinged with surprise before Firefly felt a wave of guilt and embarrassment come across him. “Ah. Oh. I, uh, wasn’t expecting to see you so... soon. Is there something the matter?”

“Not in particular,” Aura responded. “I wanted to talk to you and Miss Leaf about, erm, about what happened yesterday.”

“I think I understand. Though, I’ll admit your visit has come at a rather inopportune time.”

“Oh, I see. Would it be better if I came back?”

Roast sighed and shook his head. “No. I think it would be best to get this over with now.” He stepped back out of the doorway. “Please, come inside.”

“Roast!” Firefly shouted under her breath. “What are you doing?!”

“Missus Sweet Leaf?” Aura came into view as she put a single hoof on the step up to the door. A purple, hooded raincoat obscured all but her muzzle. “I’m not here to, well,” she paused, looking down at the floor for a short moment before looking back up to her. “I’m here on as good of terms as I can be. And… I’m alone.”

Firefly stared back. She couldn’t sense anyone else, though that meant little and the emotions coming off her, they weren’t malicious, but still filled with that underlying nervousness. But that means little if she can manipulate her own feelings. “And what are those terms?”

“I… Can I please come in and discuss it? This is very uncomfortable.”

“Sweet Leaf,” Roast cut in, “this is something we need to discuss, even if I wish I’d been able to talk to you about it earlier.”

I fully agree that we need to talk about it, but I don’t understand why Aura needs to be here for it. She glanced over at their guest, still out in the rain, and gave a little huff. “Fine. Come on in. You’re letting all the rain in anyway.”

“Thank you.” Aura nodded her head to Firefly and in she stepped, her raincoat dripping wet as Roast shut the door behind her.

“Please, Miss Aura,” Roast began, “take off your coat and we’ll put it in the closet. Then we can go upstairs and talk. Would you like something to drink? A latte or maybe a macchiato?”

“Perhaps just a cup of coffee?” she replied, following Roast over to the utility closet next to the stairs.

“Sure,” Roast opened the door and turned to her. “I can get that started as soon as we head upstairs.”

Firefly mentally huffed. It was obvious he trusted her and even though she didn’t understand it, she needed to trust him. “You know what, I can take care of that.” Firefly spoke up, starting towards the stairs. “You help her hang up her coat and boots and then come up.”

There was palpable confusion coming from Roast, though a tiny bit of pride rolled through Firefly as she glanced over and saw nearly none of it showed on his face.

“Trust,” she silently mouthed at him and pointedly nodded at him.

He returned her a little smile and turned back to Aura.

Firefly turned her attention away from the other two and to the stairs, starting up the first step. As she ascended and followed their hallway, she couldn’t help herself from wondering. Why was Aura there? Roast knew something more, a good deal something more, than she did, but what was it? She pursed her lips as she reached the kitchen at the end of the hall. She could be lying about being alone. What if she still suspects me and this is just another interrogation session?

Something didn’t sit right with her, but there was little to do about it now except do what she said. Stepping over to a counter, she pulled down a cup and saucer from a cabinet. Placing it next to the coffee maker, the nothingness at the bottom of the empty cup caught her eye. It would be easy. Transform my fangs back on and squirt some venom into the cup. She’d be paralyzed in minutes.

She stared for a moment longer and then chuckled, incredulous at herself. And then what, Firefly? Put her in the closet? Tie her up and interrogate her? Yeah, no. She'd probably vomit it up anyway. Just make the coffee. You expect Roast to trust you and now you need to return the courtesy.

Firefly pulled down the grinder and beans and went about grinding and making the coffee. As she was pouring the freshly ground beans into the machine’s basket, her ears flicked back at the sound of hooves making their way up the stairs. Quickly filling the tank with enough water for a couple cups, she flicked the coffee maker’s switch and turned around as Roast was entering the kitchen.

“Here,” Roast turned to the dining chair nearest the hallway and pulled it out before stepping back out of the way. “Please, take a seat.”

“Thank you,” Aura smiled and sat in the offered chair.

Roast walked around the table and took his usual seat at the other end of the table.

“Your coffee is just starting.” Firefly said, walking over and sitting down with Aura on her left and her husband on her right.

“And thank you, Missus Leaf.” Aura nodded at her.

Firefly merely put on a smile back at her. The other mare’s emotions had mostly settled, though that little bit of anxiety and some resolve still stuck around.

That piqued Firefly’s interest quite a bit.

“Alright, well,” Roast spoke up, “the coffee’s brewing and while I don’t mean to cut right to the matter, but, given the circumstances,” his eyes glanced over at Firefly for a tiny moment, “I’m sure you understand. Before we begin, is this about what happened after I... interrupted the interrogation?”

“It is.” Aura nodded again. “I came by because I—”

“Wait, hold on,” Roast held up a hoof. “Sweet Leaf and I haven’t had a chance to talk about it yet and she needs to know before we get into… that.”

“I need to know what?” Firefly raised an eyebrow at him, the silence of the room filled by the coffee maker.

“I, uh, well...” Roast falsely started, trepidation and guilt dripping from him again. “Ugh. Might as well get it over with. Sweet, I told Aura about you being a, uh… changeling.”

Firefly’s eyes shot open and she sat back in shock. “You what?!”

“I didn’t tell her everything!” Roast waved his hooves in the air. “Only that I knew you were one! And that I still love you and you’re not bad and—”

“Are you insane?!” she shouted at her very obviously delusional husband. “Do you have any idea what you’ve done?! What were you—”

A sudden fear rushing through the other mare gave her pause, but as her senses returned to her, the undisguised hurt flowing from her husband stopped her in her tracks.

Good. Great. You just got done with a talk about cooperation and trust and you’ve already violated it to tartarus and back. Her eyes trailed over to Aura. And she’s afraid. She’s afraid and she’s not running or calling for help or anything. She came here, supposedly alone, knowing I’m a changeling.

The anger in her slowly dissolved to the tune of the coffee maker giving its last few sputters and shutting off. Firefly settled back into her seat and closed her eyes, taking another of her calming breaths as she willed her mind to calm as much as it would.

She opened her eyes and looked back up to her husband then to Aura, both staring back at her. Firefly let out a resigned huff. “I’m sorry. To both of you. I’m not… this is still new to me. I’m sure you can imagine my hesitation about somepony in your position knowing about us. Or anypony, really. But,” she looked over at Roast, “I’m trying to trust him and if he told you, then he must have had a good cause.”

“I would say that’s true, Missus Leaf,” Aura said.

“Yes,” Roast agreed before glancing over at Aura, “and now would probably be the best time to tell you what happened.”

Firefly scooted her chair back. “Before we do that, I believe Miss Aura’s coffee is ready.” She stood and walked over to the machine and the cup next to it. For the tiniest moment, the empty bottom of the cup mocked her and she wondered if she really should have poisoned the cup.

“Miss Aura,” Firefly called out as she grabbed the carafe with a wing and poured, “would you like any cream or sugar?”

“No thank you. I prefer it black.”

After setting the carafe back onto the warm plate, she took the saucer and it's cup in her wing and walked back to the table.

"Thank you, Missus Leaf." Aura smiled and nodded as Firefly put the cup in front of her.

"You're welcome," Firefly replied as she took her seat again and faced Roast. "Alright. I think I'm ready. Go ahead."

"Right." He looked Firefly in the eyes. “Yesterday, Miss Aura interviewed me before your interrogation. I did everything I could to answer as if we were a regular couple. I’m not sure if she noticed anything, but it doesn’t really matter. The lieutenant brought me into the observation room during your interrogation, telling me to think about my love for you as hard as I could in hopes that it would pull a reaction from you.” He looked down at the table. “I tried really hard not to think about anything, but…

“Seeing you chained up like you were, it-it made me furious.” He glanced back up, a fire in his eyes. “I couldn’t help it. Your wings bound, your hooves chained, that heart monitor. Except," the fire in him evaporated, "it suddenly dawned on me. They had you and I’d never see you again. And next thing I knew, I was throwing up.

“The observation room became a hectic mess and I remember the lieutenant telling them to let Miss Aura know what happened before he took me out of the room and back to her office.”

“It’s not my office, really,” Aura spoke up. “I was only borrowing it since Lieutenant, erm, another lieutenant was out for the day.”

“Right. I, uh, forgot that,” Roast conceded before continuing. “Once we got there, Lieutenant Steel asked what the matter was, but I locked up. I had no idea what to say and it felt like saying anything at all would only lead to damnation. A couple minutes later, Miss Aura came in and after Steel told her what had happened, she asked to speak to me alone.”

He breathed in deep and slowly sighed. “She told me she was certain that you were a changeling and reassured me that she’d find the real Sweet Leaf. She tried to comfort me, and kept assuring me that we’d find you, but… I knew she wouldn’t. Or rather that she couldn't.” Roast shook his head and stared down at the table. “I didn’t know what to do, so I did the only thing I could think of.”

“So you told her.” Firefly took care to keep any accusation out of her voice.

“Yeah. I told her that I knew about you, that I loved you, that we’d talked and come to an understanding. After a lot of questioning, she left. The lieutenant came a short time later to retrieve me and, well, you know the rest.”

Firefly hummed for a moment. “I suppose that does make things a bit more clear. But,” she turned to Aura, “why did you come back in? Why that power move right before you let me go?”

Refined Aura’s eyes flicked up to meet Firefly’s for a tiny moment before shooting down to her muzzle or perhaps neck. “I wanted you to know that I was serious, that it was important you answer me truthfully.”

“I could have been lying. I could still be lying now.” Firefly narrowed her eyes. “Just like you could be lying.”

She could feel the palpable disappointment in her husband and she understood it fully. But this was important. If Aura was double playing this whole situation, everything could end, right then and there.

“How can I know you’re telling the truth?” Firefly continued, tilting her head and raising an eyebrow at the other mare. “You know, I noticed you did the same thing when you slammed your hooved on the interrogation table. Your eyes. They were on mine like a hawk on a mouse the entire time we were in there. But when you came back, same as now, you can’t meet my eyes. Why is that, Miss Aura? What are you hiding? Are you afraid of me?”

Anger, embarrassment, shame, and hurt flowed through the mare and Firefly fought to keep the smirk off her face.

Got her.

“Well?”

Aura took a deep breath, supposedly to calm herself as much of those emotions faded to mere embers. “It isn’t relevant to what we’re discussing, but as a show of trust, I won’t withhold it from you. I have a form of social anxiety and a part of that is a fear of looking ponies in the eyes. Looking you, or anyone, in the eyes is… terrifying to me. It’s a gateway to our souls and locking eyes like that leaves me feeling utterly exposed.”

Firefly still wasn’t convinced this wasn’t still a whole intricate setup. Sure, it would have to be several layers deep at this point, but it wasn’t out of the realm of possibility yet. “Except during the interrogation, you seemed more than fine staring right into mine.”

Aura nodded. “Yes. It’s been a long road to being able to do that. Can you imagine the kind of image a detective would give if they couldn’t look their witness or suspect in the eyes?”

The pause was long enough that Firefly caught on the question was not rhetorical. “No, I suppose I can’t.”

“Right. It would be the opposite of confident. It would show that I’m afraid and weak, just like you suspected me to be.”

Firefly pursed her lips. She’s not wrong, but that doesn’t mean this isn’t still part of the game.

“Through a lot of work with a therapist, I became able to ‘disconnect’ myself from that gateway between souls, so to speak. When I’m in that interrogation room, I’m no longer looking at Sweet Leaf the pony, I’m analyzing Sweet Leaf the suspect. My mind changes from a social perspective to a purely analytical one. I’m focusing on every action you make. Every shift of your eyes, every twitch of your ears, I’m taking it in.

“And in that moment, it’s almost as if I don’t exist anymore.”

She’d be lying to herself if she said she wasn’t getting frustrated with this mare’s toying around. “Then why haven’t you done that here? And where’s that confidence you seemed to boast so proudly yesterday? It seems like that would be quite helpful here.”

The anger that flamed back up in her was rather satisfying.

“Sweet Leaf,” Roast interrupted, drawing both mare’s eyes to him, “I think that’s enough. You’re crossing the line from distrusting into rude antagonism.”

“No,” Aura said, extending a wing out at him, “it’s fine. I’m here to show honesty, even if it costs me a little more than I was ready for.” She faced Firefly again. “Do you know what it’s like to have crippling social anxiety? Have you ever been in a room, trying to be as small and insignificant as you can, but inevitably you make some loud noise or knock something over and suddenly everypony’s eyes are on you?

“Maybe you haven’t. Maybe changelings don’t get mental disorders like we ponies do. In that moment, you lock up and your body yells at you to get out or run away, but all you can do is stare and hope to disappear and that moment lasts forever.”

Aura closer her eyes again and took a deep, shaky breath. The mare’s anxiety was all over her, but as she breathed back out, it slowly petered back out. She opened her eyes and looked back at Firefly once more. “To deal with that kind of anxiety all your life can be a nightmare. I’ve come a long way in my personal life since those days. At work, though, the anxiety is still there, but it's different.

“There are defined statuses and roles. There are clear expectations of me as a pony and I can focus on achieving those goals and fulfilling those expectations. It’s easier to be confident because of who I am, because of my position. Ponies know what it means to be a detective and I can become that pony and ignore that anxiety, if only because the mask has become so familiar.

“But here, out in the wild, none of that applies. I can try to be confident, like I am now, but underneath, I have to keep a close check on my feelings.”

The smirk Firefly had been holding back had abandoned her as Aura reached a wing out and grabbed hold of her coffee cup. The other mare didn't seem to be lying, there’d been anxiety bubbling underneath her facade this whole time. She seemed to have an excuse for everything Firefly threw at her. What was the right answer? Could she afford the consequences if she chose wrong?

"I think you've done a wonderful job, Miss Aura." Roast smiled at her. "You've seemed very put together and confident to me since you got here."

"Thank you, Mister Roast." She gave him a little smile back and set her cup back down with a clink.

“Miss Aura,” Firefly drew their attention back to her, keeping her voice as inoffensive as she could. “Let’s say I believe you. Let’s say I believe you’re here of your own, personal volition and that everything that's been said is true. How can I know that? How can I know you’re being honest?”

“That thought has run through my mind hundreds of times in the last eighteen hours and every time I try to solve that puzzle, I keep coming up blank. The only thing that seemed to have even the slightest chance of gaining your trust was honesty.”

“Honesty,” Firefly parroted. “You say that as though you laying all your cards on the table wouldn’t get you hurt. Or worse. How do you know I’m not as dangerous as everypony seems to think my kind is?”

“I might be hopeful, but I’m not stupid. Last night, I set in place measures that if something were to happen to me, everything I know about you and your husband would be sent to several places.”

“And how do you know I haven’t had somepony watching you and every one of those measures you set?”

Fear boiled up inside the mare and she glanced down at the table.

Firefly clenched her jaw and fought to keep from huffing. She hated every bit of this. There were too many unknowns and no way to know the truth.

It was a gamble and every collector was taught that gambles in the hive were never worth it.

“If you did,” Aura began, “then I would have the answer to my question. I’d have made a mistake yesterday and would now suffer the consequences of my failure. My only hope would be that the changeling that replaces me would perform poorly enough that my fellow detectives and captain would notice.”

She’s either calling the bluff or she’s really accepted the idea that we outwitted her. Where do I even go with this? I’m not an infiltrator, I was barely trained on mind games in the first place. If she is bluffing, there’s no way I can keep up.

Aura glanced up and stared Firefly right in the eyes, even as anxiety built within the detective. “Did I? Was it a mistake?”

“What am I supposed—”

“No,” Roast cut Firefly off with a glare, “You didn’t and it wasn’t. There has been no watching going on and I'm certain there is no ulterior motives behind Aura's actions. I am tired of this and I know what we just talked about, Sweet, but this is plain stupid. You two are chasing each other around like the last two princesses on a chess board. The only way you’re going to come to a resolution is if you both concede. But what you two don’t even realize is you’re both fighting on the same damn side!”

“Roast, you can’t know—”

“Firefly, would you shut up and listen?”

She sat back in her chair, mouth agape, hurt filling her more than she’d ever felt with him before. He… he used my name. In front of her.

“I can know. It’s you who can’t. And I don’t blame you,” his voice and eyes softened alike. “I can barely imagine what it’s like growing up in a place where you’re taught to never trust. To have to live in a world where you’re always pretending and can never be yourself. With that dark cloud above your head knowing that everything could fall apart at the slightest mistake.

“But that’s not where we are. You don’t know what Aura was like when we were in that office. She didn’t have to do any of this. The minute I told her about you, she could have simply walked right out and told everypony about us. But she didn’t.

“Aura decided to help us. And do you know what her biggest concern was yesterday?”

She felt like she was a nymph again, getting scolded by the caretakers and the only thing she could manage was a simple shake of her head.

“Her biggest concern was finding you. Finding the real Sweet Leaf. So please understand that she’s not here to fight you.”

Firefly stared at him and inhaled, unable to keep the shakiness out of her breath. “But how can I know? I almost lost you yesterday. If I really had…”

She didn’t even want to finish that.

“Because, think about it,” he softly replied. “She put herself on the line for you. Do you really think if the guard knew what she did, that they’d have just let you go? A creature they know so little about?”

Firefly shook her head and broke away from his stare. Try as she might, she couldn’t poke a hole in his logic other than the same old argument. Except…

“But why?” Firefly met his eyes again. “Why would she risk it? The guards know so little about us, but so does she.” She looked over to the mare sitting silently, Aura’s gaze faltering and resting on the table again.

“Because…” Roast trailed off, his eyebrows bunching before glancing over at the detective as well. “I don’t know the exact reason. Miss Aura,” he said, prompting her eyes to him. “I still trust you, but why did you do it?”

Aura remained silent for a few seconds before letting out a deep sigh. “It’s probably going to sound stupi—no, Aura,” she whispered to herself, “that’s a bad word. It’s going to sound strange, but I don’t have a lot of friends. It’s hard to socialize with my kind of… challenges, but even more so, it feels impossible that I could ever find a special somepony.

“So, given that, when I interviewed you, I wanted to help you get back what I could never have. But, when you told me you knew she was a changeling and loved her anyway, it made me feel jealous. I couldn’t help but think, ‘here’s a couple who has a relationship so unlikely, yet I can’t even find a—,’ well, you get it. It took me a few minutes, but I pulled myself together and eventually came to the realization that if what he said was true, it wasn’t my place to pull two pon—creatures apart.”

She wrapped her wings around and over her face. “Ugh. I must sound like the world’s sappiest mare.”

“No, you don’t,” Roast said. “You sound like a pony who cares about others.”

Letting out a sigh, she pulled her wings away from her face and settled them against her back. “Thank you, again, Mister Roast,” she said before turning to Firefly. “Does that satisfy you, Missus Leaf?”

Aura not using her real name didn’t escape Firefly’s notice. “To as much of an extent as it could have, yes. I will also admit that having you as an ally, or at least a non-hostile, to Roast and I would be a very welcome change. But…” she hesitated. “But, the question comes back around. How can I know you aren’t going to call in your guard friends or use me to find other changelings? The mere risk I would be taking to trust you is enough to get me skewered from both the pony side and the changeling side.”

“I can understand your hesitation and I will admit in return that the thought of using you to root out other changelings has crossed my mind. After all, changelings as a whole, at least with my minimal understandings and assumptions, are not exactly friendly to ponies. What are the chances that the one pony-friendly changeling in who-knows-how-many happens to fall right onto my back?”

With enough squinting, Firefly could almost see Aura’s fears reflected in herself. “Then how could you justify it?”

Aura chuckled. “It would make a lot of sense if both you and Mister Roast were changelings. I don't think he is, but if my assumptions are correct, your kind are manipulators and deceivers. What better way to lure me into a false sense of security than to play the good-cop, bad-cop routine on a detective?”

What little of a grin she had left fell off Aura’s face. “My stupid—” she winced, “unrealistic sense of hope and desire helped fuel my justification. I kind of clicked with Mister Roast, or rather it felt like he clicked with me. Who he seemed to be and the kind of pony he is was appealing. And I thought that if he was that kind of pony, then maybe you could be too. And maybe… somehow, we could be friends.”

Silence seemed to reign across the table. Firefly looked at Roast who had surprise not only exuding from him, but also displayed on his face. Firefly herself was even somewhat caught off guard by the admission. And Aura… she was downright embarrassed, the emotion flooding from her causing a visible tint to her cheeks.

“Oh sweet Celestia.” Aura laid her forehead on the table edge with a dull thump. “That sounded even cheesier than in my head. Please tell me you’re going to replace me now and spare me any further embarrassment.”

Firefly stared at the poor mare for a moment before looking over to Roast. He was looking back at her, one of his signature eyebrows raised in question before his eyes flicked over to Aura and back. She sighed and, though she wasn’t happy about it, her list of arguments was running very thin.

Instead she mentally shrugged. “No, I’m afraid not.” Firefly said, watching as Aura sat back up and looked at her. “Not only would Roast not let me, but, in the end, I have no good way of subduing and replacing you. I could do it myself, but I doubt I could effectively replicate what you do or how you behave. I wouldn’t be able to fool any guards and if you suddenly disappeared, everything would point right back at me.

“So, if this was a game, you’ve won. Congratulations.”

A flash of green fire overcame Sweet Leaf’s body and in her place was the undisguised form of a changeling. She took a tiny bit of satisfaction at the wide eyed stare and slight gaping jaw of the detective.

“Hello, Refined Aura,” the natural, two toned voice of a changeling filled the room as she extended her black hoof to the other mare. “My name is Firefly. It’s good to meet you.”

Aura’s hoof slowly raised to bump against the shiny, proffered hoof. “It’s… good to meet you too.”

“So, you say you’re here for honesty,” Firefly began. “If you wanted to, you could have me cornered. There’s nothing I can do without simultaneously destroying everything I have in Hoofington. Are you going to have me followed, to use me as bait for other changelings? Are you going to separate me from the love of my life?”

“I… no, I won’t.” Aura shook her head.

Firefly raised an eyeridge. “It sounds like there’s a ‘but’ waiting.”

Aura opened her mouth, but couldn’t seem to find the words she wanted to say. She looked away for a moment before looking back near Firefly and trying again. “I don’t think it’s a ‘but.’ There are more changelings here in Hoofington and probably across Equestria as well. Even without you saying anything, I think Wavy Pallete’s marefriend was proof enough of that. Are those changelings a danger to ponies?”

“What am I supposed to say to that?” Firefly huffed. “That ponies and changelings are suddenly going to get along now because some lowly collector and a detective became all buddy-buddy? I’m not their leader or any changeling’s leader. I’m just a love collector. I have no more control, or perhaps even less control, over them than you do over your fellow detectives or captain.”

Aura’s eyes trailed away from Firefly and to the table in front of her. She stayed quiet, few emotions running through her, but seemingly deep in thought. After a long moment of silence, she spoke, “I suppose I don’t know what I was wanting.” She turned to Firefly again. “My job is to investigate crimes and help solve problems. I help the guard and one of their goals is to keep ponies safe. I’m committed to helping them with that and if there’s a threat, then it’s my duty to tell somepony that can send someone to stop it.”

“Then you’re going to have to mare up and abuse our trust. My hive is my family and I won’t betray them. I love my husband, but if it comes down to having to choose between all us Hoofington collectors being taken down or just me, I will gladly fall on that spear.”

“Sweet, please,” Roast said, drawing both mares’ attention, “don’t talk like that. We don’t have to go that far.”

“No, Mister Roast,” Aura said, shaking her head, “it indeed won’t come to that. I keep trying to think of a metaphor that will set this whole situation into a neat, understandable box, but all I’m doing is drawing a blank. The one question that’s rearing its head to me is ‘why?’ Why are you different? What separates you from the rest of your… swarm?”

Firefly scrunched her fanged muzzle. “First, we’re not a swarm. That makes us sound like a bunch of mindless insects. We may be part insect, but we’re a people just as much as you or any other sapient species.”

“Oh, I’m sorry.” Aura bowed her head.

“It’s alright. I wasn’t trying to harp on you. As for why I’m different,” Firefly shrugged and haphazardly held a hoof in Roast’s direction, “it’s half his fault and half mine.” She couldn’t help but enjoy the bit of indignation that sparked in her husband. “You see, a few years ago, I was a silly little changeling and he saw me in the undisguised form you see now. I didn’t notice and he had the gall to not confront me or tell anypony. Instead, he accepted his wife for whatever she was.

“Oh and by the way, in case Roast didn’t tell you, I didn’t replace Sweet Leaf, I created her as my disguise.”

Aura nodded and Firefly took that as her already knowing.

“My second fault came in when I let Sweet Leaf’s feelings spill into my own. When he found out about changelings a few days ago, he finally confronted me. I ran away, but had to come back to get those love crystals your guards found. Of course the big lug tried to convince me to stay and I was sufficiently enamored with him that I made the absurd decision to do so. So, really, it was a series of unfortunate, or perhaps fortunate, events that led me to walking a fine line between ponies and changelings. Questions?”

“I, uh,” Aura began, curiosity and confusion and intrigue spilling from her, “as one who is only equine, I have a great number of questions. None of them, however, are pertinent to the discussion at hoof.”

Firefly hummed and asked herself if she really knew what she was doing. Was she really going to place her blind trust in a mare that nearly tore her life apart? Well, as I already said, it doesn’t matter. Roast would have a fit if I tried and it’s not like fighting back wouldn’t destroy my life as I’ve only now come to know it.

“I noticed you’re not very afraid or anxious anymore.” Firefly put on what she hoped was a bemused grin. “You’re starting to sound like the Aura back in the interrogation room, too.”

“O-Oh, I’m sorry,” Aura apologized again.

“It was a compliment,” Firefly said. “You seem to be much more comfortable with us now. Perhaps you’ll be able to ask me those questions some day.”

Aura’s ears perked up. “Ask you? I’m not sure I understand.”

“You said one of the things you hoped for out of this was a friendship, no?”

“Well, I did say that, but I wouldn’t say I was all that hopeful.”

“Well, one of the things I happen to be lacking are friends who aren’t changelings.” Firefly looked over to Roast. “What do you think, honey? Think we could add one more friend to our circle?”

“I… wouldn’t be opposed to it,” Roast said with confusion on his face. She ignored it for the moment.

“Wait,” Aura said, holding up a wing, “Not but half an hour ago you seemed ready to kick me out of your home. Now you want to be friends?”

“To be honest, I still don't really trust you and I will absolutely be far more wary about my surroundings now. But, Roast made some good points and, like I said, it’s not as if I can do anything about it without throwing away what I have with my husband. It's more like this. If we stay in contact, we can keep mutual tabs on each other. An unorthodox trust building exercise, if you will. And if we happen to shoot the breeze or have a nice dinner or go out for a nice game of bowling while doing so, then that's how it goes.” Firefly shrugged.

“If that’s what you’d like,” Aura began, hesitation clear in her voice, “then I’d be happy to have a couple of… friends.”

“Perfect!” Firefly grinned and clapped her hooves together. “Then if you’d follow me, we can get you into a nice, warm cocoon.”

The small smile dropped off Aura’s face not for the first time that day and Firefly could see as much as feel the glare coming from Roast.

“It’s a joke!” Firefly made a show of rolling the white pupil in her changeling eyes.

“Very funny.” Roast deadpanned at her before turning to Aura. “Sorry, I’m still trying to train her in being a decent creature.”

“Hey! I know perfectly well how to be a good pony,” Firefly said, changing into Sweet Leaf’s body and giving him a cheeky grin and a little wiggle of her eyebrows. “You did fall for me after all.”

“And here I am questioning if it really was a good idea.”

Roast stared at Firefly with his unamused glare and Firefly stared back with Sweet Leaf’s pleased grin.

“Pfft!” Aura burst out laughing.

Firefly and Roast both looked over to her before they too gave in. As Firefly belted out her own laughter, she felt relief flood over her.

Maybe things really were going to be okay.

“Are you sure you can’t stay any longer?” Fine Roast asked as they stood in the cafe’s downstairs kitchen. “I could make you a mean latte or macchiato. Or even another plain ol’ cup-a-joe.”

Refined Aura smiled and shook her head. “No, though I do appreciate the offer. I really do need to get home. And other places. Those measures I mentioned? In case I, well, didn’t come back? I kind of need to go collect them.”

“I suppose that would be a good thing,” Roast said.

“Aura?” Firefly spoke, turning the mare’s attention to herself. “For what it’s worth, I’m sorry for the hassle I put you through today. And I appreciate the efforts you made to meet me in the middle.”

“You’re welcome, Miss Leaf.” Aura smiled again, her eyes flicking up to meet Firefly’s for a short moment before darting back down to another part of her.

“You don’t have to keep calling me that,” Firefly said. After a confused look came across the other mare’s face, she clarified, “I mean, I’d like it if you called me by my name. My real name. At least, when we’re alone like this.”

“Okay, F-Firefly?” she stammered, a flush of delightedness spilling from her. “I think I can do that.”

I’ve got to give it to her, Firefly thought as the mare donned her raincoat and boots. If this is still a ruse, Aura’s played her part flawlessly, right down to the emotions. She didn’t know how the future was going to play out, but she hoped their troubles were behind them.

“If you’d ever like to have that cup of coffee,” Roast said, pulling the door open for Aura, “feel free to stop by the cafe any time. We’d be more than happy to have you.”

“Thank you, Roast.” Aura nodded with her smile. “I think I’d like that.” She flipped up her hood and headed out the alleyway door, the heavy rain pattering against her purple raincoat.

Roast shut the door and let out a long sigh.

“Well, that happened,” Firefly said.

“Yeah, it did,” Roast said, letting out a long sigh before turning to her. “I think… I think I’d like to go lay on the bed for a bit.”

“That does sound rather nice,” Firefly agreed, turning with her husband and following his slow gait up the stairs. At the top, they turned left into their bedroom and she walked to the far side, stepping up onto her side of the bed and laying down half on her side with a couple hooves tucked under her.

Roast did the same and gave her a smile before he laid his head down onto the pillow.

It had certainly been a rather turbulent day and Firefly still wasn’t sure what to think about it all. The talk with Roast had gone better than Firefly thought either of them had hoped. Aura visiting like she did was alarming, but assuming her claims were correct, turned out to be the best thing that could have happened. She still held some skepticism, but—

Her thoughts were cut off with a wave of anxiety and guilt from Roast. She looked at him, but his face and closed eyes were as neutral as they were unhelpful at providing context. Firefly wanted to say something, to ask him what was wrong, but at the same time, she wanted to give him space if he needed it.

It became clear to her at that point that everything was very complicated now. When she was a mere manipulator in one moment and social bystander in another, everything was easy. But now with his knowledge of her and her desire for a real, authentic relationship, all that simplicity was gone.

I’ll wait, she decided. If he wants to address it, he can in his own time. I don’t need to push into his private space all the time.

So wait she did. His feelings shifted around with different flavors of nervousness and guilt and after a moment, her patience was rewarded.

“Firefly?” Roast asked, raising his head from his pillow.

“Hmm?” she hummed, lightly raising an eyebrow.

“I’m… really sorry for what I said earlier. About telling you to shut up. That was wrong of me and that’s not something that should ever come out of my mouth to you.”

Firefly chuckled, quite relieved that it was something so simple. “I think, given the situation, it wasn’t entirely uncalled for. I’m fairly certain you’re right about her and if you hadn’t shocked me out of my stubbornness, I probably would have walked myself in circles.”

“I, uh, I’m also sorry for using your name in front of her.”

She shrugged. “It would have come out eventually. You merely hastened my introduction.”

“It still wasn’t my place to say it. I should have left that decision to you.”

“Roast.” Firefly reached out a hoof and placed it onto his, giving him a little squeeze. “I’m not angry at you. There’s a lot of things that could have gone better in the last hour, but what came of it was a result that I don’t think either of us are unhappy about.”

“I suppose you’re right. But would you have… well, if she had intended to do what you thought, would you have really…” He trailed off.

Firefly sighed. “I honestly don’t know. Everything about it would have been a logistical nightmare. I have no way of doing anything with her if I did subdue her. There’s no calling back to the hive for help right now and, like I told her, there’s no way I could fill both her role and mine at the same time.

“In the end, I think it would have been game over.”

He looked down and sadness filled him. She quickly moved her hoof off his and onto his jaw, pulling his eyes back up to hers.

“Hey,” she let go of his chin, “that didn’t happen and I don’t think it will, so there’s no reason to be so upset about it. We should be happy that we’ve made a new friend.”

“Yeah,” he smiled, “you’re right, as usual.”

“Pfft,” she laughed. “If all of that was me being right, then you need to get a check on your philosophy.”

“Come on, you know what I mean.”

“Yes, I know.” Firefly leaned in and gave him a little nuzzle, happiness filling her as he nuzzled her snout back. She trailed her nuzzle back and brought her lips to his. They shared a long kiss, but he pulled back just before tongue got involved.

“So, uh, I've been wondering,” Roast started

“Hmm?" Firefly's eyebrow rose in question.

“I'm not wanting it for any particular reason, especially given the state of our lives recently, but are we… compatible? Down there?”

Her eyebrows scrunched. “Compatible down there? We've done the tango plenty of times, so I'm assuming you don't mean like that.”

Roast hummed in the negative. “No, I mean for, uh, foals.”

“Ah.” She thought that's what he meant, but she wanted him to confirm it. With that came a grimace. “I hate to say it, but no. In fact, it's less that we're not compatible and more that there's nothing to be compatible with.”

At seeing his confusion and head tilt, she clarified, “the only changeling that can reproduce is the queen. All other females are inert and lack the facilities to do so. The only way a female can reproduce is becoming a queen herself and that can only happen if our current queen dies. Even if we change into a different species or gender, we can't just create eggs or sperm out of nothing. Changeling magic might be strong, but it's not that strong.”

There was still a good bit of confusion flowing from him. “But if you can't create either, then how do you reproduce at all? Do you do it asexually?”

“Oh, huh uh.” Firefly shook her head. “The natural born male changelings are fully functional and the queen has her own caste of consorts.”

“That's… interesting,” Roast said, “And a little sad I suppose. But there are other ways if we wanted to have foals.”

“That there are. And, you know, lots of good things happened today,” she said smooth and low with a practiced lecherous smile, “With all this talk about foals, I think I know of one way we could celebrate.”

He gave her a half grin and raised an eyebrow at her. “That sounds kinda weird considering one of the things you want to celebrate is making a new friend.”

“Oh come on,” Firefly rolled her yes and shoved at him, “do you want to ruin the mood?”

“I’m only joking, Sweet. Come here.”

Roast pulled her close and pressed their lips back together. Her eyes went wide and she let out a moan at the tongue he very swiftly added to the equation. Though, just as she was getting into it, he pulled back.

“Honey?” he tentatively began. “I’ve kind of been having a thought for a little bit.”

She merely licked her lips of their meeting and raised an eyebrow back.

“You know how you can change into different ponies?”

“Mmhmm?” Firefly wasn’t opposed to where this was going. “What are you thinking? Maybe a supermodel?” She shifted into some slender white mare from Canterlot she’d seen in a magazine. “Or a star?” Another shift into Sapphire Shores and she leaned in close with a whisper, “or was there something more specific?”

“Uh, I mean...” he stammered and looked away.

Firefly grinned and she could only think about the ways she could put even more flush onto his face and desire in his heart. She leaned in close, her eyes half lidded, and—

“W-wait!” Roast put a hoof against her chest. “It’s not that I don’t find those attractive...”

“Well,” Firefly leaned back and shifted back into Sweet Leaf’s form, “go ahead, dearest. I’m all ears.” His adorable nervousness was to die for.

“I like you a lot more because it’s you. But, it’s more, uh, that I was wondering… are you able to change into a… male?”

Now this was interesting. She’d never expected this of him and was more than happy to explore it. “I absolutely can.” Firefly shifted into a Sweet Leaf, but made several little changes, some less noticeable, but some much more noticeable.

“My darling Roast,” Firefly said in a deep, masculine voice unable to keep the growing grin of her face at her husband’s deepening blush, “I absolutely can.” She leaned in again, eyes half lidded, but was perturbed yet again to feel his hoof against her chest.

A squeak came out of him before his voice came back under his control, “S-sorry. I definitely do want to try it, but I was thinking we could start with just... you?”

“Ah, that works fine too. We can work up to it.” She shifted back into Sweet Leaf. “That better?”

“I meant more… you.”

Her eyebrows raised again.

“Well,” he clarified, “I was thinking more changeling you?”

He wants... she half thought, taken aback. “You want what?”

“If you’re not comfortable with it, that’s okay. But I would really like to be with the real you, even if it’s only once.”

“I—” she didn’t know what to say as a pit deep in her chest felt… loved. “You’d want to be with me like that? You don’t find it… unsettling?”

“Firefly,” Roast put on one of his sweetest smiles and she felt his hoof ever so lightly hold her cheek, “I could never find you anything but beautiful. You are the love of my life and I love every part of you.”

Firefly's watery eyes flicked back and forth between his. “You are more wonderful than I could ever ask for.”

She shifted out of her disguise and into herself. Her black changeling lips pressed into his, finally without interruption.

“Yes,” she breathed out against him, “I would love nothing more.”