Title:           BOOK 2: Twilight Shows Up At Your Place story
Author:          writemook
Pastebin link:   http://pastebin.com/FLp3AVnn
First Edit:      Thursday 19th of March 2015 04:58:06 PM CDT
Last Edit:       Last edit on: Thursday 26th of March 2015 10:41:55 AM CDT

>Time in the shower results in a Springtime Fresh Anonymous and a Sparkling Twilight.
>Also some small talk about preferences and other things...
"This is the most sexytime I've had in a single week... I think ever."
>"Ever?" Twi points an eyebrow while toweling off her hair.
"Yeah."
>"Perhaps this is the first time you've been with someone with whom you are this thoroughly compatible. In which case I can be smug about it."
>You try giving Twi a Look.
>Hey, you’ve been on the receiving end enough.
>”What does *that* look mean? Do no need to pass gas?”
>LOOK attempt: FAIL
“Nevermind. Yeah, you can be smug.”
>She laughs and leaves the bathroom.
 
>”And there’s the happy couple!”
>”Good morning, Cryssy. How is your vision?”
>”Eh. I’ll recover. Medic says I’ll need to wear these,” She taps the cheap pair of ‘hi the eye doctor gave these to me’ sunglasses, “for a couple days. Aaaand I’m on medical leave.”
>”I’m so sorry, Cryssy. The device - “
>”Hey. You didn’t tell her to fire it at me and … oh hell. C’mere.”
>Cryssy does the grabby hands thing and Twi comes over. They hug. Cryssy reassures Twi, “I’ll be fine. Medical Leave’ is sexier and less belittling than ‘Administrative Desk Leave’ which is what I woulda been on for losing my unit. Besides. Now I can be here in Bloss’s tender loving care… and take a few days off from being chased and slash or attacked and slash or shot.”
>”And about that, Cryss,” Blossom adds, scooping up both Twi and Cryssy in a hug, “Do we need to send for anything from your place while you’re here?”
 
>Ah. Cryssy will be joining us for the next few days.
>You feel like you’re in some kind of deranged sitcom. One with chase scenes and fights.
 
>’Bloss’ and “Cryss’ sort out who needs what and how they’ll get it (“And  we can get you a few extra tank tops - there’s an indoor pool downstairs so maybe your swimsuit…”). Twi pries herself out of that conversation and wanders back over to the big table with the book on it.
>She opens it up and makes a surprised sound.
“What’s up?”
>You come over and see that the loose pages (from “Eris Enterprises” and Cryssy losing her car) aren’t tucked between the cover and flyleaf anymore.
>Twi flips through pages… and finds them.
>”They’re bound in. By themselves.”
>She turns to you. “These *were* loose pages when you gave them to me, right?”
“Yep. And crumpled because I had to stuff ‘em into my shirt.  They look fine now”
>”Perhaps the paper is actually a nano-machine-driven storage medium with an auto-indexing feature which interfaced with this ‘new book’s’ internal reference strings…”
“You’re willing to gnaw your own arm off before you say ‘magic’, aren’t you?”
>Twi gives you The Look.
>”All of this can be explained rationally, Anon. We may not have the vocabulary and numbers for it yet, but…”
“But ‘Magic is a Marketing Term.’”
>”... yes.”
 
“Fine. So the ‘marketing term’ book -”
>Twi twitches and elbows you in the side.
>You go ‘oof’ obligingly.
“So the book bound the loose pages into itself. Based on what happened when DuPris stole the book the first time…”
>”Sunny is bound to be alerted to the recovery of some of the pages… and the book’s ‘tracking’ function…”
>Twi flips to the back of the ‘new book’ and carefully opens out the map.
>Just one icon of a book there.
>Right here at the hotel.
 
>”Drat. Perhaps the pages she tore out were part of the tracking mechanism?”
>Twi flips back a few pages, finds a pencil with some point to it and writes an unintelligible scrawl of symbols and numbers on it.
>”Our shorthand.  Trying to get the most data to her in the least number of steps.”
>She puts the pencil down. “So we can’t track her this way…”
“But we know that she’s going to be at the High School - or at least near it - in a couple days, right?”
 
>”Are we talking about ‘Bitchface’?”  Blossom, having settled Cryssy into the couch with a cup of tea and a bagel (bagels? She ordered bagels? Love this woman!) joins the conversation.
 
>”Are you talking about DuPris over there? Bloss only uses that word in one context I’ve heard so far…” Cryssy, from the couch.
 
“Okay. Everyone to the couch. Campfire!”
>”I don’t get that reference.”
“NCIS, Twi.”
>”I’m not familiar with that show.”
>You sigh.
 
“There is SO much Western Culture I am going to have to catch you up on…”
>Everyone heads over to the couch.
>Twi brings the book and leaves it open on her lap.
>You do your best to settle in without disturbing Twi, the book, and
>whump
>Hurricane Blossom flounces onto the couch.
>Well at least Cryssy didn’t spill her tea.
 
“Okay, so we know DuPris is going to be at the high school campus in two days. Is there anything scheduled?”
>Blossom un-flounces from the couch, goes to get the laptop, and brings it back.
>She re-flounces (making her skirt ride up in the ba-
>STOP STARING)
>Blossom does typey things.
 
>”In two days… Homecoming.”
“Really? Wow.”
>”It’s when they usually hold it, Anon.”
“Yeah, Twi, but I didn’t pay too much attention to it when I was *going* there, so -”
>”And… the Canterlot High School Alumni Association has decided to hold an ‘All Classes’ Class Reunion on the same night.”
 
“Class reunion.”
>”You say that the same way I feel about it, Anon.”
“People I haven’t seen since High School.  Wiat. They do those in five and ten year increments, right?”
>”For some reason, Anon, they’ve decided to have a Reunion Homecoming along with the regular homecoming,” Blossom tappity-types, “I’m quoting here, ‘All graduates welcome.’”
 
>“DuPris is a heavy donor to the Alumni Association, isn’t she?  So she talks them into scheduling the reunion for homecoming *and* makes sure that she can show up and not stand out by hiding among other more recent graduates…”
“Okay. So we know where she’ll be and when it’ll be.”
>”We don’t know ‘where’ with enough accuracy, Anon.  Remember - the portal site ‘drifted’... my notes and the information in the book suggested it’s still on campus, but not precisely at the statue’s location.”
 
>Cryssy chimes in, “So … we’re looking for a weird portal to Narnia -”  She can’t see the Look Twi gives her, or is ignoring it.
>She sticks out her tongue at Twi.  
>Maybe she *can* see the Look.
>“And it has to be somewhere accessible but not so obvious as to have a bunch of civilians around it?”
>”Beatrice was ostentatious when we were in school together… she appears to have developed at least a rudimentary sense of decorum.”
“Or she’s been taught how to hide her power level. Okay. So...’
 
>”So… is she on the planning committee for the reunion?”
>Typing sounds from Blossom’s lap, “Cryss… she … *is* in fact.”
>”So… if she wanted to arrange things so people aren’t in a certain area, how would she do it? Rope it off?”
>”Twi, sugar, if you rope off an area during an event, people will just gather around it to see what’s going to happen there.”
 
“It’s true. In college we tried just standing around an open area long enough to get a crowd to form around us… then left. People do that.”
>Twi looks at you. “You *would* do that, wouldn’t you?”
“The three most dangerous words in English: It’ll be funny.”
 
>Twi shakes her head sadly. “I’m romantically attached to an insane person.”
>Cryssy leans over and pats Twi’s shoulder sympathetically. “Poor baby…. hang on. I think I’ve got an answer. At a party, do you know who gets the least attention?”
>”Socially awkward smart girls?”
>”.. good answer but not quite, Twi ...  the help. No one pays attention to the caterers and the servers and the food services…  Some of the best intel I’ve picked up was when I was wearing a white oxford shirt and a bow tie and carrying around a tray with expensive little bits of food on it. Bloss, is there a layout map for the reunion online?”
 
 
>Blossom does some clicking…
>”Noo… but I *do* see who they hired as the caterers… and... “
>Bloss flounces up from the couch again and scampers to ‘her’ room.
>You and Twi look at each other.
>Cryssy shrugs. “She’s like that.”
>From ‘Blossom’s room’ you hear her putting extra sorghum over that ice cream
 
>”Hel-lo Jules! This is Blossom Carlotta… oh I know, it’s been for *ev* er! Well, what with one thing and another? Oh yes we *must* have a hangout sometime soon… Listen, I’d *love* to talk with you all *day* but I need to ask a favor - oh no, not *that* kind, sugar. No I found it *quite* bracing, you know that…”
 
>Bracing? Say what?
>Cryssy looks in Blossom’s general direction then shrugs again.
 
>”Well… I saw that your company is doing the catering for the big shindig at the high school in two days? Oh yes honey, I *know* it will… well, I’ve been asked to make sure that some of the things we’ll be delivering - oh you know how it is, they have to get all *kinds* of things out of storage and set them up and *no one* ever thinks about that until the last minute… could you send me a layout plot for the event? I just want to make sure that when we deliver *this* box and *that* box they don’t wind up running over some poor girl’s serving table… oh *yes* Jules… oh I know you *can*... Thank you *so* much… Bye o/`”
 
>Blossom returns, tucking her phone into her cleavage. “We should have a layout for the event in my inbox in just a few minutes.”
>”Blossom Carlotta, you are a woman of vast…. talents.”
>”Cryss, sugar… you don’t have to make that gesture when you say ‘talents’.”
>”I know, but I was just thinkin’ about your talents!”
>Blossom giggles and slides in next to Cryssy, who declares “Snog break!”
 
>They kiss.
>You and Twi kiss.
>Things get kinda kissy and such on the couch for a bit.
 
>Eventually people come up for air.
>There is giggling.
>Yeah, even you.
>Because it’s not like you get to hang out with three women in a hotel room and everyone is snogging as a matter of day to day life.
 
>”Aww. They’re so cute together, Bloss.”
 
“I was gonna say that about you two.”
 
>”Of course you were, sugar.”
 
>Twi shakes her head and leans against you. “Crazy people. I’m in a room with crazy people.”
“Says the woman with her hand up my shirt.
>”Hush.”
“How about I change the subject to whether Blossom got that map in email?”
 
>Blossom bounces up from the couch yet again - grabs the laptop, and bounces back down.
>Seriously, this woman. Energy. How?
>Everyone starts to lean into Blossom to look at the screen.
>”Not yet, please. This is my *personal* mailbox I’m checking and, well…”
>Everyone leans back.
>Except Cryssy.
>”Not like I can actually *see* your screen with these glasses on anyway.”
 
>”You just like leaning against my books, Cryss.”
>”This is a problem?”
>’’... mmmnoooo…  and … Oh *thank* you Jules! Here we go.”
>You and Twi lean back in.
>You’re being smished between Twi and Blossom.
>Seriously, the estrogen in this room…
>Ok the map.
>It’s… a bunch of squares and rectangles and wavy lines.
>More specifically, it’s a series of artificial ‘lanes’ or ‘roads’ or something, with tents on either side.  All spiralling out from the statue in the middle.
>Kinda pretty, really.
 
>”Jules knows his ground plots, Anon.”
>Pretty enough to make you mutter to yourself. Dammit.
“Okay. So. It’s not the statue, right?’
>”Right. Sunny said…” Twi flips a few pages in ‘the book’ and points to a block of total gibberish, “That the focus point has drifted over the last six years, which is what made it difficult to pinpoint and reopen…”
 
“So why do we think DuPris knows where it is now?”
>”She’s had more time, more money, and, apparently, more motivation to find it than I have.  I’ve been spending time on it as a hobby project - track the anomalies… from the way things have been going here, it seems like she’s been focused on this and only this.”
“So she’s smar-OW.”
>”She’s not smarter than me. She’s likely *as* smart as I am, but, as I said, with this as her only full-time project. And I didn’t poke you *that* hard.”
>Annoyed Twi gets all pointy.
>Welcome to being in a relationship.
>Still worth it.
 
“Okay. It’s not at the center because that’s the statue.”
>”And… it would have to be somewhere accessible… Blossom, can you put this up on the TV again?”
“Again?”
 
>Blossom reaches for the TV remote. “While you and Cryss were off playing secret agent, Twi and I discovered a few features of the TV and this laptop. With just a cluck and a flick…”
 
>The TV comes on and the map is much, much larger when it’s on the TV.’
 
>”Hot damn, Bloss. Even *I* can see that now! Ok. So… how much space do you think they need for this ma- please stop growling - for the portal thingy?”
>”According to… just a moment… here… the portal itself would only require about three foot by three foot. But… people have to stand around it. Equipment needs to be set up and a framework erected... “
>Twi looks up and off to the right, “Between 100 square feet and 144 square feet.”
>”That’s a ten-by-ten, a twelve-by-twelve, or something in between. So we can eliminate the little booths near the center… and the ones around the noon - to - three o’clock part of the circle… what about the ones down around eight-thirty? Bloss? Can you zoom into those?”
 
>Blossom does computery things and the view zooms in. Lots of squares and rectangles crammed into a pie wedge.
>”I don’t see a section that’s not marked as private…”
>”I wouldn’t mark it ‘Private’, Twi… I’d just not even mention - right there. See it? The blank space between four tents?
>”Yes, there’s nothing there, Cryss. They didn’t draw in a tent or anything.”
>”Exactly.  So if, on the night of the event, one shows up there, surrounded on four sides… who’s gonna notice?”
 
 
>Makes sense.
“Makes sense.”
>At least this time you deliberately said it out loud.
“So what do we do now?”
 
>Cryssy stretches and leans back on the couch. “Now? Officially, *I* do nothing.  I’m on medical leave.  You three troublemakers…”
>Blossom gets mock-huffy then goes ‘squee’ when Cryssy hugs her one-armed
>”Okay. You *two* troublemakers have a couple days to get ready to go find DuPris’s site and do whatever the heck you need to do… *but*... you also gotta call Lance and tell him that the suspect is likely to be there.”
 
“Isn’t Lance off this case because he’s related to Twi?”
>”Yes…” says Cryssy, and adjusts her sunglasses. “But if he gets a carefully calculated piece of information from his little sister… well, he has to forward that on to his superiors… and it’d make him feel better if you told him directly instead of him learning about it second-hand.
 
>>doorbell<<
 
>Oh yeah, this place has a doorbell.
>Everyone else looks at you.
“Fine. Fine.”
 
>You lever yourself upright and look through the peephole.
>Flash. Fucking. Sentry.
 
>”I thought he was in jail?”
“Well, Twi, they do have this thing called ‘bail’ I guess.”
>Twi comes up behind you, “If he found us, he found us through legitimate means. So he may have something useful for us. Please don’t punch him in the face immediately.”
 
“... okay…”
>You open the door.
>Flash sees you.
>He flinches back. “Woah! Easy there! White flag there… Non… I’m out on bond but…” he points down at his leg. “I’m tracked. The cops know I’m here and they know why I came here.”
>”If it’s to apologize, Thomas, I might be interested in hearing it. Then you can go back to jail.”
>Gentry flinches again. “Seriously! I didn’t expect things to get … so… uh… Okay.”
 
>”Gentry?” Cryssy calls from the living room. “Dammit, and me without my sidearm.”
>”Let him in, Anon… but this does *not* mean I forgive him.”
 
“Right.”
>You escort Flash into the vestigial entryway to the suite.
>Flash looks around and whistles softly. “Nice.  Is CRM putting you up? Because -”
>”Thomas Gentry, I’m going to give you one opportunity to speak your peace and leave unmolested,” says Twi, “One. And it starts… now.”
 
 
>Flash attempts to compose himself.
>As he’s wearing the same suit he was wearing three days ago when he was booked, this is not entirely successful.
>His hair, though: still spiked.
>Jesus Christ, Flash.
 
>”Okay. Six months ago I was approached by Beatrice DuPris - you remember Trixie from school? Of course you do, eidetic memory.  I was approached by her as she was starting up a new company and wanted someone who could talk people into investing.  Great - this is what I do. I’m a damn good salesman and - ok I know that look and let me just get through this.
>Flash explains, with a heaping helping of disclaimers, apologies, and ‘it’s-not-my-fault’ (weapons grade) that when he wasn’t suckering -
>uh, enticing
> - VCs to invest in the breakthrough technology being developed by Eris Enterprises (“And I still have *no* idea how it works but in sales you don’t *have* to know-”) he was running errands for DuPris. (“Go here, buy this, talk them into a better price, get me a latte…”)
>He never saw any other employees, but Trixie - uh, Beatrice, was always on the phone with *someone*.
>”It’s the only time I ever heard her being anything but Big Bossy Trixie - she sounded really deferential and talking about ‘our project’ in glowing terms and does the blond chick *have* to stand there holding that baton thing like that?”
>Baton thing?
>Blossom Carlotta - sweet, lovable, sisterly Blossom, with a police baton.
>Maybe it was a give from Cryssy? Oh she just *happens* to have one…
>You decide not to think about that.
 
>”Bloss?  He’s still a material witness and should remain intact, sweetie!”
>Blossom purses her lips. “I know a few places that wouldn’t show…”
>”I’m on Medical leave but I’m still a cop, Bloss… please don’t beat the shit out of him.”
>Blossom “hmphs” and flounces back to the couch.
>Flash flinches at the ‘hmph’. Of all things.
 
“So. ANYWAY…”
>Prompted back from the brink of Blossom-induced terror, Flash continues.
>”So I’ve been coordinating deliveries and stuff and a bunch of things were scheduled to be sent to the high school for the big reunion thing which I think they’re gonna let me attend since it’s within my radius -”
>”Yes, Thomas, we know that. Beatrice DuPris appears to have something planned for that night.”
>”Yeah, Twi, but see - I’m still being cc’d on all the delivery stuff because I set up the order and when they let me out they gave me back my phone which is good because I paid for this baby myself and -”
“Your point, Flash?
>”Sorry, look… my point is that Trixie - Beatrice - Beatrice DuPris - changed the delivery date from two nights from now to *tonight*.”
 
>”Tonight?”
>”Yes, Twi. Tonight. And since I heard  you’re really interested in whatever it is Trixie is doing -”
>”Because she STOLE my WORK, Gentry! Did you tell the police this?”
>”No because I got the email when I was already on my way *here* to apologize and -”
 
>From the couch comes, ”Twi, I’m on leave but you know I’m still a cop, right? So, Mr. Gentry has informed the police.  Thank you for your cooperation. Is there anything else you’d like to tell us… maybe without so much BULLSHIT in front of it?”
 
>Flash looks over toward the couch. “... cop? Do I know you? Yeah - you were at the place with Twi and these two and -”
>Cryssy stands up and faces the general direction of Flash (with Blossom’s help).
>She fishes in her tank top and - yep, badge on a chain.
>Classic Serpico move there.
>”Yeah, that’s me. Anything else you wanted to say before you’re free to go? Because your voice is really irritating me and Bloss *really* wants to show off what she can do with this baton.”
 
>Flash looks from Cryssy and Blossom to you and Twi and back, and back again.
>”Uh. No. No, that was about it.”
>”Good. Mr. Gentry, I advise you to return to your home or place of business. Go forth and sin no more. That sorta thing. And don’t go to the high school tonight. Because if you do you’re gonna be in violation of some statute somewhere about accused felons and crime scenes and stuff and then I would probably have to shoot you or something.”
 
>Flash, does that double-double take again, says “Right. Okay. Great. Thank you. Sorry, Twi.” and flees.
>He manages to open the door on the second try.
>Then he flees.
 
>You close the door.
>Twi reaches past you and sets the chain.
>”I feel like I need another shower now.”
“At least nobody punched him and got douche all over ‘em?”
>”I *was* planning to see how far into his abdominal cavity I could kick his genitalia.”
 
>CRINGE INITIATED
>STAND DOWN, BOYS, IT AIN’T US.
>DON’T CARE.
 
>Blossom and Cryssy are giggling.
“... ow?”
>”Well, Anon, *I* wasn’t going to want them for anything... “ She leans in and whispers, “besides… yours is better.”
>HEY BRAIN, GONADS HERE. EMOTIONALLY CONFUSED. TO BONER OR NOT TO BONER?
>BRAIN HERE… uh. Wow. Good question.
 
>To get your mind off THAT…
“So something’s happening *tonight* rather than two nights from now?”
>Twi nods, then says “Sunny!” and runs back to the table.
>You see her hunch over the book and scribble frantically. “Come on… how… did… you make this thing … jump… we need some kind of alert system symbol…”
 
 >You check the time on - your phone is back in the bedroom… the clock on the microwave. Noon.
>How the hell did it get to be noon?
>Oh yeah. Late night. Sexy morning. Flash motherfucking Sentry.
 
“So if the day’s changed, and Flash Douchebag said ‘tonight’, when tonight?”
 
>Twi is still leaned over the book, tapping a pencil impatiently.
>This gives you a really nice view of her butt. In denim.
>Still counts.
>Not the same as the ‘promised land’ view when she was standing over-
>GOD DAMMIT FOCUS SOLDIER.
>Sorry.
 
>“Can we assume ‘tonight’ means ‘dark’, Twi?”
>”Probably… and sundown in in … six hours or so…”
>Twi sways her butt while watching the book intently.
>You had not noticed this behavior before.
>”I wasn’t certain you were *looking* before, Anon.”
>It’s apparently distracting enough to make you do that whole babbling your thoughts out loud thing. Dammit.
 
>Twi makes a little squeak noise of surprise. “Sunny!”
>More scribbling ensues.
>While Twi is engrossed in her conversation (and her butt’s stopped swaying), you wander back to the kitchenette for another bagel and some more appalling green soda.
>”If there’s any cider left, stud, grab me one please? I can’t move on account of this Blossom in my lap.”
 
>Everyone is attempting to be calm and relaxed and
>”Oh that is *clever*!  Sunny just showed me the ‘alert’ symbol for the book. And she’s uploading something … and I should take a step back. Or a few… or be behind something. Like the couch. And perhaps duck.”
 
>You turn around from the fridge, bottles in hand, in time to see the book do something that can best be described as the physical embodiment of the sound effect >>FWOMMMMMMPF<<
 
>Swear to god it jumped a foot in the air, spun, and landed open.
>You do not drop your beverages.
>You are that much of a god damn professional.
 
>Twi peers from behind the couch. “Annnd… all clear.”
>”Can you take your hands off our heads then please?” asks Blossom.
>”I dunno, Bloss. I *like* where she shoved *my* face…”
 
>Twi clambers *over* the couch (“oof!” “eek!”) and scampers back to the book.
>You take two ciders to the poor, trodden-upon (literally) women on the couch, who follow you back to Twi and the table and the book.
 
 
>Twi is studying two new pages in the book.
>One, covered in SCIENCE! scribblings (ie: Twi and Sunny’s private shorthand)
>One with a ginormous bullseye drawn on it.
 
>Oh look. More writing.
] Changing back to ‘English’ now since you have friends there.
] This should help you locate the new focal point for the portal.
] I have ‘engineers’ on this side verifying the focus on this end.
] If it’s opening tonight - we’ll have to scramble, but I have some
] friends I can call on if what I think happened six years ago
] actually happened.
] (word scribbled out) fingers crossed
] Sunny
] ps - that ‘alarm’ sigil makes a lot of noise on this side, so use sparingly - S
 
>Twi realizes there’s three people reading over her shoulder and scootches closer to you.
>You do not mind this in the least.
 
>”So… Now what? Do we call the Police? The ..um… ‘Rug Guys’?”
>”Cryssy *is* the police -”
>”And as soon as a Police-able thing happens, I can call the cavalry. Not before, though.”
>”Drat.”
>”’M sorry, Twi, but even *I* have to have *some* rules. Sometimes. If I could see straight I’d go out there with you for the hell of it.”
>Twi turns. “You’re sitting this out?”
>”A blind cop is not exactly the most effective cop there is. Plus, Bloss can’t go -”
>Blossom nods, glancing at the still-curtained window.
>”So I think we’ll be more effective as a team.”
 
>”And as far as the ‘Rug Guys’ go, Twi, they’re good for anything that involves hitting things or cleaning them up.  They’re not exactly ‘protection’ people, regardless of what Unc might think. I *still* don’t know why he sent them around to your place, Non…”
 
“So, what? It’s me and Twi? Back to school again? In the dark? Looking for a ma- unexplained phenomenon-type portal with nothing to guide us but a …
>Don’t say that word
“Book and the idea that somehow Beatrice DuPris is involved in this?”
 
>Twi looks at you.
>”Yes.”
 
“Ok. As long as we know where we stand. When do we leave?”
 
>Twi looks at the book, then at her phone, then at you.
>”We have five hours to get there, but we have some other things to do first.”
>She grins.
>”I need you to drive me to CRM. We’re going … ‘shopping’.
 
>You dress -
>Screw it.
>You dress comfortably. Per Uncle Enzo, you’re still on ‘special task assignment’ so you don’t exactly *have* to wear the suit.
>Like he’s gonna find out.
>From Blossom.
>Or anyone… else…
>You really wish you had had this thought before you were two-thirds of the way to CRM. Dammit.
>”I’m sure Uncle Enzo understands that the scope of this particular assignment is changing.”
“Well, yeah. Like you sitting in the front seat with me. That’s waaay against the rules.”
>”We’re going to need to space in the back seat as well as the trunk.”
“Should I be worried now?”
>”If we can’t fit everything into the car - that’s when you should be worried.”
 
>Car 17 behaves itself.
>More or less.
>Those guys clearly weren’t honking at *you* right?
>That guy with the R type sticker on his car was trying to drag someone else.
>You and Twi found out why Car 17 has four-point harnesses in both the driver and passenger seats.
 
>You park in the back lot of CRM.
>”That was … exciting.”
“You don’t sound excited.”
>”I’m thrilled that we’re both still alive. Can you come around and help me out of the car, please?”
“Sure.”
 
>Once you make it to the back door, Twi’s much more stable on her feet.
>Although the place was the scene of an unexpected explosion a few days ago, things look… pretty normal.
>”Hiii Kevin! Yes and this is Mister Anonymous - who will sign in per process of course…”
>Twi flashes Kevin the Security Guy another winning smile and half-drags you down an entirely different set of corridors than the last time she dragged you down a set of corridors.
>Probably a different set.
>Your suggestion of leaving a trail of cheez-its was not well received.
 
>Twi leads you into a … big storage room.
>Like the warehouse from “Raiders of the Lost Ark” only with plastic bins instead of crates.
“So… what are we getting here?”
>Twi drags you down a row of shelves to a row that looks precisely like every other row of shelves. “Can you get the yellow crate down from the top shelf please?”
>You move things for a living. You can certainly get a crate down from a shelf.
 
>When Twi opens the case up and removes lots of foam bits, you are genuinely surprised.
“You’re kidding.”
>”No. When they realized these things were not going to sell as rapidly as they had hoped, we got a very good deal for a large quantity of them.”
“What the heck are *we* going to do with them?”
>”Well, once you get *that* box down and put it *here*... we put these parts into this framework..”
“And rather than looking like a Glasshole I can now look like a slightly  different type of Glasshole?”
 
>Twi shows you how the dark lenses attached to the Glasshole frame block direct light.
>Then she shows you how the IR jury-rigged into the Glasshole frame lets you track in low light.
>Then she shows you the x-ray … no. Not x-ray. Heat sensor.
>You stare at Twi for perhaps longer than appropriate with that setting on.
“You’re *hot*.”
>”Want to see something *really* interesting? Push the stud… here. That’s an electromagnetic sensor. Rudimentary, but…”
“Jesus H Tapdancing Bodypainted Christ Riding a Unicorn That Farts Rainbows. You’ve got an aura!”
>”I have a personal electromagnetic field, Anon. Everyone does. Mine’s just extends a bit.”
“Seriously. I’m expecting you to level up and get all blond and spiky-haired now.”
>She turns the Glasshole off and they become a normal, if somewhat chunky, pair of sunglasses.
“Ray-Bans?”
>”They live up to their name.”
“You wouldn’t happen to have a memory eraser thingy in here from MiB… would you?”
>Twi smiles, and directs you to put the bins back.
>”I showed you *that* five minutes ago, come on. We have more items to collect.”
 
>More items are collected, but none are as amusing as the Glasshole thingies.
>You’re almost certain Twi was kidding about the memory-wipe thing.
>Almost.
 
>At the end of the shopping expedition, you have a duffel bag full of things, but not enough to fill the trunk.
>Or the back seat.
>You begin to suspect that Twi might have been misleading you about why she’s sitting up front with you.
>You don’t want to say anything though because, well, it’d make you look kinda clueless.
>OK, more clueless.
 
>Back to the hotel and the clock is running
>"We're back!"
>Door's closed to Blossom's room.
>You and Twi enter stealth mode and unload various things onto the big folding table.
 
>Twi checks the "new book" for an update from Sunny.
>Apparently there *is* one so more scribbling ensues.
>You take inventory of ... well, what you brought back from Twi's work.
>Two pairs of Glassholes.
>Couple boxes with wires sticking out.
>A meter of some kind.
>A gray lab coat. You didn't know they made 'em in gray.
>A little box the size of a deck of cards, currently plugged into a wall outlet.
 
"We're going against unknown forces in a vacant school campus who are doing weird SCIENCE! things and all we have is ... this stuff."
 
>Sounds from Blossom's room.
>"They're back!"
>"Gimme a sec - where's my pants?"
 
>Twi's giving you a Look.
>"Newspaper. Nose."
 
>You put your hand down and stop making that gesture.
"Sorry."
>Not really sorry.
>"Keep it up and you will be."
>Uh.
 
>Blossom emerges into the main room first, followed by Cryssy, who appears to be pulling on a tank top.
>You catch a glimpse of something metallic before the shirt covers it.
>Clearly you haven't seen all her piercings.
>"Well since you asked stud -"
>"Cryss, *please* don't break the Non.  Twi needs him, hon."
>"Oh, what's the harm? It's not like I'm showing him my la-
>"Cryssy, behave or *no* spankings!"
 
>Cryssy pouts at Blossom.
>You are learning far more about these two than planned....
 
>Twi glances at Cryssy and Blossom, then at you. Shrugs.
>”It should be getting dark in a few more hours... “
“Are we doing the science ninja thing again? Wandering around the campus?”
 
>Twi pats the book. “We should be able to isolate the location of the new portal.  These…”
>She opens the box and -
“Hey - earwigs!”
>”... that *is* the commonly-accepted name for these devices… and since Cryssy and Blossom are not going to be able to accompany us… they can communicate with us through these and the repeater.  Can I see your phones?”
>Twi does things with the little ear-radio-thingies and various phones. “The good news is that they’ll carry well in the area of the school. The bad news is that if someone jams the cell phones… we’ll go dark.”
>”Why do you want us in communication, Twi?”
>”Because… Blossom… you can watch us …. on this… URL…”
 
>Twi types in a bunch of numbers and dots on the laptop.
>”Oh my, Twi! That’s … what is that?”
 
>"I had to double-check the address... But this is the security camera monitor system at Canterlot High School."
>"Isn't that supposed to be a secure system? Locked down to the school's internal network?"
>"It is."
>Twi looks smug.
>"That's exactly what they asked me to help install five and a half years ago."
 
 
 
>Twi runs through how to operate the ‘board’ from the laptop the hotel sent up.
>Blossom is entirely too entertained by this thing.
>”Oh… I wonder if we could get some cameras up around my place… and maybe some in the town cars - for security purposes, of course…”
>Having driven more than a few clients who used the back of the car for not entirely SFW purposes, you have some concerns about the ‘security’ part of Blossom’s excuse but anyway..
 
“So, we have the technology. We can do this better than we did it last time. Better. Stronger. Faster…”
>”That tone of voice tells me you’re quoting something, Anon - what is it this time?”
“The Six Million Dollar Man.”
>’... that show was almost completely inaccurate in its depiction of prosthetic limb replacement…”
“... how come you didn’t get all ‘this isn’t accurate’ on the shows we’ve watched together, then?”
 
>Twi looks at you.
>”Because you and I both know they’re fantasies. There’s no reason to strive for accuracy in something that is intended to be entirely escapist.  I just get irritated when they depict a principle or known technology as doing something it can’t or won’t do.”
>”You must be funnnn to watch when the CSI shows come on,” Cryssy teases.
>”Please, don’t get me started on those, Cryssy.”
>”Preachin’ to the choir, Twi. Preachin’ to the choir.”
 
“So… when do we roll out?”
>Twi tilts her head and looks off in that ‘looking something up’ mode, “Sundown is in two hours and Sunny’s notes indicate that it’s about an hour after that. I want to get onto site just after sundown, scout the area, and see if we can locate the nexus point with this new, um, ‘program’ that Sunny ‘uploaded’ to the book.”
“You know I can hear the quote marks when you’re using words Sunny has clearly substituted for other words, right?”
>Twi nods and sighs. “As she said earlier, there are some things she’s not ‘allowed’ to tell me. And yes, that was in quotation marks. Sunny *put* them in quotation marks around those words to let me know that they’re euphemisms.”
>She grins a little. “I think she’s every bit as annoyed by these restrictions as I am. Imagine trying to explain how a car works without being able to use any of the terms related to internal combustion, steering, pedals and gear shifts.”
 
>Cryssy raises her eyebrows. “That hurts just thinking about it, Twi.”
>”Exactly.  Whatever technology Sunny has access to… wherever she is -”
“It’s a Prime Directive thing!”
>”I wasn’t going to use that term because I didn’t know if Blossom and Cryssy would understand it, but yes. That’s what it is. A Prime Directive… thing.”
 
>Thankfully Blossom and Cryssy understand from the Star Treks.
>This leads into a rambling conversation about Classic, NextGen, DS9, … even Voyager and Enterprise…
>Thankfully, the hotel room doesn’t devolve into armed camps over the disagreements.
 
>While you and Twi were away, someone sent for deliveries of foods and beverages.
>”Well, with my… condition, I know all about what places deliver and which don’t, sugar. And I figured that with whatever’s happening tonight, you two would want a little fortification…”
 
“You call *this* fortification?  If I eat all this, I’m not moving for a week.”
>”It’s just an antipasto plate, Non, sugar… and it’s for everyone.”
“Oh thank god. Please. Throw yourselves on some of this deliciousness. Your sacrifices will not be in vain!”
 
>Overblown drama aside, you and Twi and Blossom and Cryssy nosh on meats and cheeses and little tomatoes and little pepper thingies and olives and …
 
“I … should stop now. Like right this minute stop eating while I have a chance to process some of this before the sneaking and running and hiding and probably screaming and running.”
>”Why do you say ‘screaming and running’, Anon?”
>You look at Twi and make a little ‘well?’ shrug.
“Based on the last few days?  I think I’ve got some of that thar ‘evidence’ you’re so fond of to support my prediction.”
>”That’s not a prediction, Anon, but I’ll agree with the other part.  Speaking of running, how is your knee doing?”
 
>Your knee.
>Holy crap.
“Still doesn’t hate me. I’m still bewildered about that. This..” you stick your leg out and bend it a few times from a seated position, “has been a pain in the ass since the ‘refrigerator incident’.”
>”Blossom mentioned that when I was working on it. What exactly happened?”
“Uh. The short version:  Some people don’t understand that when they say ‘I got it’, it’s a commitment. And utility dollies may have wheels that snap out to keep it from falling over, but that won’t stop it from rolling down a ramp and into someone.”
>Cryssy winces. Twi winces. Blossom just nods sagely.
>”I think they said you spoke in tongues when that happened, Non.”
>You didn’t speak in tongues.
>Probably.
 
>It occurs to you that you really haven’t had a chance to just sit around and bullshit with people for, like, ever.
>Even before the whole “Twi shows up on your doorstep” thing, the opportunities for you to sit around and just … hang out with people… in person … have bee pretty light on the ground.
“Can we try and do more of this after the crazy shit’s over?”
>You had not planned to ask that question right now.
>Must have slipped past what’s left of your internal filter.
>”Yeah. This is… this is fun. Bloss? How d’you feel about havin’ company over more often?”
>Blossom makes a little squee sound and damn near suffocates Cryssy with the hug she gives her. Well. Suffocate. Maybe. Cryssy’s patting her shoulder during it. Or maybe she’s trying to tap out.
 
>More totally random stuff happens.
>People make jokes.
>Twi attempts to understand them.
>Twi makes a joke.
>Then she needs to explain the terms she used to make the joke.
>Then everyone gets the joke,.
>And everyone agrees it’s a pretty good joke once you know what the joke’s about.
 
>And Twi isn’t insulted or anything because sometimes she does assume that everyone else has the same training and background and vocabulary and that can cause miscommunication and
>And Cryssy calls a ‘snog break’ and thank God for that.
>Cuddling and kissing doesn’t require terminology explanations.
 
>Somewhere around the part where Twi is trying to get her hand up the back of your shirt and your hands are very decisively on her butt, her phone goes off.
>”Mnfllf… fmfm… drat.”
>Her phone is over … there.
>She detangles from you and goes to pick it up off the table.
>”It’s time to get ready to go, Anon. We’re at twenty minutes to sundown.”
>Strangely, you don’t feel all that nervous.
>Pretty relaxed, to be honest.
>Maybe because, for once in this weird week, you have some idea what you’re going to be doing for the next couple-three hours.
>Sorta.
>More than you knew the first time, at least.
 
>You stand up, stretch, crick various things, and try not to watch Blossom and Cryssy being hellaciously adorable since *they* don’t have to ‘suit up’ or anything.
>Twi’s not changing much - just putting on the gray lab coat. So that’s why she got it.
“Stealth mode Twi!”
>She points you at the bedroom. “Suit, please. And a dark shirt instead of the white one… do you still have that mask?”
 
 
>CUE DRAMATIC SUIT UP MONTAGE
> o/` Theme from the A-Team o/`
>Actually, Blossom and Cryssy are *watching A-Team
>Well, Blossom’s watching and telling Cryssy what’s happening when she can’t see it clearly.
>Another good reason that Cryssy is staying “home” with Blossom.
 
>You emerge, once again in thei goddamn suit, only with a dark blue t shirt (you didn’t pack anything else that dark), no tie, and the stupid green mask sticking out of your pocket.
>Twi sizes you up.
>”It *should* work.”
“What? Shall I get a domino mask and a fedora or something?”
>”Will Eisner’s Spirit! I got that reference! Shiny has a stack of books two and a half feet high with that character’s stories -”
 
“I can’t tell if you’re being sarcastic, earnest, or intentionally missing my sarcasm.”
>Twi blinks at you. “I have no idea what you mean.”
“I don’t believe you.”
>”What?” Blink. Blink.
>There is clearly no way to penetrate this defense. So you give up.
“Okay. I’m ready. You?”
 
>Twi issues you an earwig (“all the way into the canal”  “AUGH” “Stop whining…”)
>A pair of Glassholes.
>And a duffel bag full of SCI-
>>Significant Twi Look<<
>-equipment.
 
“Back to school again.”
>”Yes.”
“Oh no, I don’t wanna go - back to schooool again o/`”
>”What are you referencing now?”
>”Grease 2? Oh I saw that on cable, Non! It was fun but not half as good as the original!!”
>”There was a sequel?”
“Yes, Twi. There was a sequel.”
>”But we *are* going back to school again.”
“Yes. Yes we are.”
>”And we should get going now.”
“Oh. Okay.”
 
>And here you are in Car 17 one more tmie.
>There appear to be empty parking spaces on all sides of Car 17 in the lot.
>Perhaps Car 17 scared them off.
>You look under and around the car anyway.
>Just because you’re paranoid and people blow shit up and crash through things and blind friends around you don’t mean they’re not out to get you.
>Car 17, being too badass to let anyone plant a bomb or tracer or an R Type sticker on it -
>Hey. It happened once.
>Car 17 rolls out.
 
>Getting to the school was easy.
>Really easy.
>What day is it, even? You’ve lost track.
>You and Twi wait in the parking lot, near the back closest to the outbuildings, where people tend not to look for people in cars.
>Not that you know this from personal experience.
>Just waiting for dark and being inconspicu-
 
>o/` Theme from Knight Rider o/`
>Oh you should probably put the phone on mute, right?
“Aaanonyphone?”
>”Non, this is Enzo.”
>Ohshit Uncle Enzo. From whom you have not heard in a while.
>”I see you have Car 17 out again. I take it this is part of your ongoing contract with Ms. Sparkel?”
“Yessir. It appears the schedule got pushed forward.”
>”I see.  And with the apprehension of the individuals who had invaded the Alternate Garage, are Ms. Sparkel, Ms. Alyss and my precious Blossom well?”
“Blossom’s - well you talked to her earlier, didn’t you?”
>”I did, but I would prefer an outside opinion. Blossom’s very good at presenting a strong front when she’s not at her best.”
“She’s… doing better than I thought she would. Cryssy’s helping a lot - they’re both at the hotel and won’t be directly involved with this phase of the operation.”
>”I am reassured by that information, Non.  Oh, and the Rug Guys send their regards. Once Ms. Sparkel’s apartment has been released as a crime scene, let her know they will be paying a visit with an eye toward … tidying up.  It has already been covered through the generous contract we now hold with her employer.”
“I certainly will, Uncle Enzo.”
>”Well, I should let you go as the sun is going down soon.”
>How’d he know that part?
>”And Non?”
“Yessir.”
>”There are two quotations which I feel would be appropriate to your current situation.  One is from Hamlet - ‘There are more things on Heaven and Earth than are dreamt of in your philosophy’, and one is from a fellow I knew back on the West Coast a very long time ago, ‘Keep an open mind. Just not so open that your brains fall out.’ “
“... I’ll keep those in mind, Uncle Enzo.”
>”I am certain you will, Non. Drive safely.”
“Yessir.”
 
>End call.
>You mute your phone’s ringer.
>”So ‘Uncle’ Enzo knows about sundown?”
“How did you -”
>”You have your earwig in and answered the call with that ear.”
>”You sure did, Non. So sweet that Unc worries about me.” Blossom heard the call too.
>”And thanks for puttin’ in a good word for me with him, slick.” … as did Cryssy.
“Ok just because I want to get it out of the way… is there ANYONE ELSE listening in on the call that just happened? Anyone? Lance? Gizmo? Vance Jackson? Gern Blanston? Anyone?”
>”Anon, calm down… there are only four transmitters and they’re all accounted for.”
“Come on! Will this show up as a podcast? TMZ?”
>”Anon, please stop ranting.”
“... Tosh 1.0?... okay I’m done.
 
>Ranting done, Twi runs through the equipment with you.
>The Glassholes are still the most complicated and take the most instruction.
>"This nub toggles between infrared and light-enhancing. If Beatrice is still able to use the photonic disorientation device, the enhancements should automatically shut down and the  polarized lenses *should* provide some protection.
""That's what you said when we went to Eris Enterprises."
>"And you said Cryssy wasn't *wearing* her sunglasses and I already feel bad about that..."
>Cryssy in your ear, "It wasn't *either* of your fault, geez. We've been over this. Just relax about that and focus on the op. "
"You're right. Twi, we shouldn't argue in front of the kids."
>"I have *piercings* older than you, slick."
>Blossom's voice, "Oh is that the -“
>Twi breaks in, "The sun is setting now, so we need to check the security cameras.  Blossom, there should be sixteen cameras displayed on your screen. Can you see them all?"
>"Yes, Twi.  I can just barely see the back of Car 17 in the camera marked "west parking"... Are there any other blind spots I should be aware of?"
>Twi looks thoughtful, "One near the northeast corner - That's where you parked last time we were here, Anon."
 
>Five, six days and half a lifetime ago...
>When did this sort of thing become "normal" for you?
 
 >"Anon?"
"Wha? Sorry. Ruminating. When do you want to start hunting?"
 
>"According to Sunny's notes, the portal needs time to become fully activated, so we should be able to pick up something on this...'bullseye' page soon after the sun is fully below the horizon. That term is painfully inexact, but knowing what I know about Sunset's word choices I think we should get out and get ready."
>You unlock the doors and clamber out. As does Twi.
 
>”Blossom, anything on the cameras?"
>”Nothing that looks out of place.  There are a lot of shadows being cast by the security lights, but nothing that seems unusual."
>Twi, in dark slacks, a dark purple turtleneck and her, possibly custom, gray lab coat, comes around to the driver's side of the car.  She rolls her shoulders and you, possibly due to some subliminal Boyfriend Sense, reach out and give her a few shoulder squeezes.
>"Mmf. Thank you.  When we have more time, I think we should do more of this.."
"Yeah, me too."
>"When we're not hunting a strange phenomenon."
"Or being chased."
>"Or defending ourselves from attack."
"... wow. You mean 'normal' life?"
>"I don't know..." Twi grins, "Normal has always struck me as boring."
>Twi adjusts her ponytail, puts her glasses into her lab coat pocket and puts on the Glassholes.
>"Let's go hunting."
 
>U B Anonymous
>U currently B executing a thorough sweep of a high school campus.
>This consists of following Twi around, pausing, being asked to go examine that dark spot over there, hearing Twi say "drat", and repeat.
>The campus is pretty darn big when you're covering it in 10 yard increments.
 
>At least you've watched enough procedurals to understand that this is how these things are done.
>"Are you *humming*, Anon?"
>You are. Probably the theme from "The Fugitive".
>You stop humming.
>Something else, however, does not stop humming.
 
"Do you hear that?"
>"The humming? Now that you're not doing it, yes."
 
>tink<
 
"Did you hear that?"
>"By 'that', do you mean the sound of something ceramic breaking into one or more pieces?"
"... that's a very specific thing to attribute to that sound but...sure."
 
>"Yes."  Twi puts her finger to her ear.
>"Blossom, can you click on ... Camera six, NE Campus, and tell me if you see anything in full-screen view?"
>You start to remind Twi that she doesn’t have to do that ‘finger to the ear’ thing to use the earwigs.
>You realize she’s doing it for your benefit
>So you know she’s talking to someone else.
>So you don’t make, you know, a jackass of yourself.
>Awww!
 
>tink<
 
>Blossom comes on the earwig, “Nothing… showing up on the camera, Twi… it’s murky but no murkier than any other poorly-illuminated spot on the camera.”
>Twi checks the ‘bullseye page’, “something… is fading in and out… oh I wish Sunny had sent me better instructions on this thing.  Anon, check the ground for depressions and signs of someone other than us being here.
>The ground has… lots of depressions.
>It’s a high school campus.
>That’s not what she meant.
>You try flipping through various ‘modes’ on the Glassholes
>Gradually walking forward, staring intently at the ground.
 
>You’re staring so intently at the ground that your head collides with something solid enough to make you back up a step and say something undignified.
 
>”Anon?”
>You rub your forehead and stare straight ahead.
>Nope. Nothing. It’s… lawn.
>You look down.
>Still lawn.
>”Anon, what happened?”
“Twi, stay where you are. Blossom, can you see me?”
 
>You hear clicking on the earwig.
>”I see you, Non. Twi’s off to your left and you’ve got your hands in front of you like you’re trying to feel up the air.”
“Cute but not entirely inaccurate. You don’t see anything?”
>”I don’t, sugar…”
“Well, I just crashed my skull into somthi-”
 
>Something grabs your arm
>Something that grabbed your arm yanks you through some kind of invisible barrier into a much better lit space.
 
>FOOMP<
>HA! THE GLASSHOLES WORKED!
>You see Beatrice DuPris pointing her little ‘dazzler’ thing at you and scowling.
>You do not, however, see whoever had the taser nail you with a pants-crapping amount of voltage.
 
>In every movie and TV show you've seen where someone gets tasered, they yell and fall down.
>You can't yell because your jaws snap shut, just taking a tiny, tiny bite off the tip of your tongue.  
>That’ll be really annoying later when you have time to think about it.
>Every muscle in your body goes rigid.
>You do not, however, pass out.
>Instead you get to watch DuPris's triumphant smirk all the way down to the floor
>(floor? There's a floor. How 'bout that?)
>And then the pain stops and you feel ... kinda tingly.
>And not real motivated to, like, move or anything.
>Meanwhile DuPris is saying .... words ... And someone else is making bored sounds.
>"Just prop him up against something, *will* you, Trixie? I need to check..."
 
>tink<
 
>Little bits or ceramic bounce into view as Trixie hails your dead weight up against a pole or post.
>"Nope..." says the bored voice. "Try turning that little yellow thingy a little."
>Trixie - DuPris - is grumbling.
>"Trixie do this, Trixie get that, Trixie buy me a banana... *My* genius is the only thing driving this little "project", SIR"
>You see a mismatched pair of dress shoes and plaid slacks, shuffle into view.
 
>"Oh of *course*, Trixie. Your genius, your avarice, your ego... your shameless plagiarism... your lack of social skills..."
>Trixie snaps, "and *your* utter lack of talent in doing *anything* other than flap your snaggle toothed gums and talk the credulous into investing in your 'cutting edge breakthrough'."
>The other guy - SIR, you assume, laughs lightly, "My dear Trixie, altering reality is what I *do*!  And here... that takes money.  And I find I can convince anyone… *anyone* that what I say makes perfect sense. So, bags of cash? Not a challenge at all.
 
>tink<
 
>The number of broken bits of crockery on the floor - which is what you have a great view of, by the way, increases.
 
>”Still nothing,” says SIR, “Ah well. Perhaps the time is not yet ripe. Perhaps… *someone* isn’t as much of a genius as she insists and we should actually go and *find* a genius to make … this… blasted… contraption… WORK.”
>DuPris flinches back a little.
>Apparently SIR is emotionally invested in what’s going on here.
 
>”Have you looked at a clock… SIR?  We have another five to ten minutes before the fields align well enough to create the conduit.”
 
>tink<
 
>”And dropping TEACUPS on the FLOOR is NOT helping ANYTHING!”
>SIR chuckles, “It makes *me* feel better, Trixie. And that’s all I really care about, to be honest.”
>Trixie turns and fiddles with… what the hell is that anyway?
 
>From your position on the floor, you can see DuPris’s terribly expensive shoes, her stockings, and cinder blocks and poles and … a thing hanging about a foot off the ground between two poles that looks an awful lot like part of  the cloak thingy DuPris was wearing the last two times you saw her…
>Behind that are a bunch of car batteries and … more of that cloak fabric… which would be the far wall of this tent thingy.
 
>tink< >crackle<
 
>”Ah! *Here* we go…”
>A teacup rolls into view and stops, upright.
>Since it’s right in front of your nose, you can see the tiny cracks in the porcelain.
>The teacup vibrates, then falls apart all at once.
 
>”Well *darn*... whatever you’re doing there, Trixie… do *more* of it!”
 
>Your leg twitches.
>This is good news!
>You concentrate on a certain part of your body… and verify that you did not in fact crap yourself when you got nailed by the taser!
>Even better news!
>You make a sound that might have been “ha!” if you couldn’t move your jaw.
 
>”Oh… either this one’s dying or he’s recovering from this little device, Trixie. Shall I shoot him again?”
>”He won’t be good for *anything* for another couple of minutes… SIR.”
>Wow. DuPris can make ‘SIR’ sound like ‘MOTHERFUCKER’.
>”Well, then… do more… science things… make it work, Trixie! I am *so* ready to be *done* with this place…”
 
>DuPris makes growly female sounds, then a sudden, sharp yelp.
>From your floor-bound perspective, you see a pair sensible shoes, purple slacks and the hem of a grey… lab coat.. behind DuPris’s Terribly Expensive Shoes.
 
>”Hair has a tensile strength of .6 x10-9 N / m2. Did you know that, Beatrice?”
>... Twi?
>”You *bitch*! Let go! I will *AUGH*!”
 
>”A blow to the kidney can cause significant pain along the dorsal area, along with fainting, dizziness, internal bleeding, and vomiting.”
>”y...yyyou….I’ll…. NGHowww…”
>DuPris joins you on the floor.  
 
>Twi kneels down next to a conscious but not very happy DuPris, glaring.
>”And a sharp blow to the side of the neck affects the carotid artery, the vagus nerve, and the jugular vein resulting in disorientation, pain, and in the case of a severe blow, unconsciousness and possibly death.”
>DuPris has no comeback for that.
 
>”You invaded my home, you had me stalked, you attempted to have me kidnapped, you threatened my friends… and you stole… my… WORK.  Blossom? Are you getting this?
>Something goes *crackle* in your ear.
>Maybe the taser screwed it up?
>”Drat. This tent is a faraday cage. Well…  I’ll just tape YOU to THIS for now… and one strip for that filthy, plagiarising MOUTH of yours…”
 
“Twi…”
>”I’ll be with you in a moment, Anon… Now you STAY there, Beatrice.”
 
>”Yes, I think she’ll stay right there… and you’ll stay right *there*, Twilight Sparkle!”
 
>Focused Twi is good sometimes.
>Focused Twi focused on DuPris while this SIR person is looming around in the shadows… not so much.
 
>Now Twi is focused on SIR, you guess, who, judging by the shadows on the floor, might be aiming something at her.
 
>”Anon? Is that what you were trying to tell me? There’s someone else here?”
“Urnghh…”
>Twi nods, still looking at … SIR, you guess. “You weren’t very coherent.”
 
>”Well, be *fair*, Twilight… he *was* just tasered!  With *this* taser, in fact.  One of yours, I take it?”
>Twi stops looking threatened long enough to lean forward for a better look. “Nooo… CRM hasn’t done any work in that field. I guess Beatrice stole it from somewhere else.”
 
>Angry “MPH!” sounds from DuPris.
>Your leg twitches again.
>Then your other leg.
>Okay… Move your left big toe. Move your left big toe. Move your left big toe. Goddamit move your left big toe!
 
>”Well, regardless, it’s a taser and it’s quite nasty and I would *hate* to have to fire it again… so is this the part where you say something about ‘you’ll never make me do what you want you fiend!’... I’ve seen that the television a few times…”
 
>Twi blinks. “What exactly do you want to do?”
>”I want *that* thing to re-open the portal back *home*. I am *perishing* of *ennui* here!”
 
>”The portal… if I said ‘Sunset Shimmer’, what would your response be?”
 
>Your left big toe finally moves.
>Hot Damn!
>Now for the rest of you!
 
>”Sunny?!? Oh that *darling* Sunset Shimmer! Yes! Have you been in correspondence with *her*? I didn’t know Spike could send things that *far*...”
>”Spike? How do you know Spike Goch? Spike has nothing to do with this. Sunset was a classmate of mine - is this supposed to be a Portal structure?”  
>Twi turns to look at the weird bars and cape thingy in the middle of what you now can say decisively is a tent.
>”Why, *yes*... and might I say I’m amused by how readily you went from ‘worried about a taser’ to ‘inspecting the scientific doo-dah’,  Twilight! If I had found *you* instead of *her* I’m certain all of *this* could have been avoided…”
 
>VERY angry MMPH sounds from DuPris. Also kicking.
>”Beatrice stop that! You’ll upset… oh … this started out as a frequency modulator and… well that *is* clever… DuPris,  this is a very effective update…”
>”... mphymph.”
>”You’re welcome.  So this is intended to create a sympathetic resonance along… yes these are the frequencies I picked up seven years ago from the school… and … oh.  Well, that’s a common enough mistake. Do you see this breadboard? These two jumpers… “
 
>That humming you heard when you first bumped into the tent?
>The humming that was louder once you were inside the tent?
>Yeah it’s really loud now.
>Floor-rattling loud.
 
>”THAT SHOULD SETTLE DOWN IN A moment there it goes,” says Twi.  “The notes clearly said ‘six’ and ‘eight’. You had them in ‘six’ and ‘nine’.”
>”....mph.”
>”I’ve made the same mistake.”
>”.... mph.”
>”But you made it *here* too… and *here*...”
>”MNMNNNGHHPH!”
>You successfully flop from your side onto your back!
>Dang that light is bright.
 
>”Oh look… you know, I’ve often wondered what would happen if you taser one of you lot, and then do it *again*...”
>”If you do, you can guarantee the portal won’t work.”
>”Was that a *threat*, Twilight Sparkle?”
>”It was a statement. Hurt him, I’ll break this thing in ways you and DuPris won’t be able to fix for at least another sixty moons.”
 
>”Sixty - oh you *figured it out*! Clever girl!”
>Twi makes growly sounds.  SIR doesn’t seem to notice, or care.
>”I tell you what… let’s just get this thing working and call it even, shall we?”
 
>”I was planning to finish fixing it anyway…”
>”MPH!”
>”It’s not *my* fault your soldering is sub-standard…”
 
>The humming drops a couple tones.
>SIR - you’re guessing it’s SIR - looms over you and casts a really weirdly shaped shadow.
>Shaggy hair - you can see that.
>Ill-fitting suit. After all your time with Chariot Town Cars, a suit that poorly made just hurts to look at.
>And he’s reaching down toward your head…
 
>And he picks you up by your armpits and props you, upright, against a tent post.
 
>Ye gods. This guy is freaky.  
>Big mop of really pale hair
>Soul patch
>David Bowie eyes.
>Awful teeth. “Rule Britania” awful.
>The suit… looks like it was made of a bunch of other suits. In a blender.
>He smiles at you. This does not improve matters.
 
>”*There*. All upright? Now. Let’s just not disturb Twilight Sparkle while she’s being all smart with the portal, shall we?   Let me see… you would be *Anonymous*... I believe… Oh take off those glasses you look like a complete doofus.”
 
>You manage to remove the Glassholes without dropping them. They go into a coat pocket.
>”Much better. Hm. You know…”
 
>”SIR” shambles over to … yes that is in fact a small table loaded with teacups.  
>He picks one up and looks at it critically.
>He drops it onto the floor.
 
>tink<
 
>”Hm.”
 
>c r a c k l e<
 
>The bits of teacup seem to fall apart, then back together again in slow motion.
 
>”Ah!  Let me…”
 
>He bends down and scoops up a bunch of broken teacup bits, stands up, extends his arms, then drops them.
 
>tink<
 
>The bits hit the floor as an intact teacup. with two handles.
 
>SIR pumps a fist in the air. “YES! It’s *workinnnngg*! The old mojo’s coming back!”
 
>You have no idea what’s going on here again.
>Twi turns around from the big pile of SCIENCE! to look at this… guy.
>”What did you just do?”
>Said guy - SIR - whatever, picks up the two-handled teacup and drops it.
>It hits the floor, bounces… and becomes a chicken.
 
>”Aaaah! Glorious, glorious chaos, how I’ve missed youuuu o/`” he sing-songs, twirling in place.
>”That. Is. Impossible.”
>”No, Spar-KEL, it’s *improbable*, it’s *unlikely*, but anything *can* happen in an open system…”
>DuPris has apparently gotten the tape off her mouth.
>Joy.
 
>”Aaand, might I add, Little Miss Precision, that the potential for such an unusual event to occur -”
>DuPris pauses to tear frantically at the tape with her teeth -
>”Is an enormous order of magnitude, yes, Beatrice. I understand that.  So… mister….”
>”Oh, just call me SIR, why don’t you? Trixie here does!”
>”I call you SIR because you’re paying me a huge amount of money… which I might add has not yet arrived in the secure account in the Caymans as we had agreed…”
 
>SIR, tilts his head at Tri-Bea- … DuPris.
>All these people with multiple names.
>”Oh, *that*... well… wups! Twilight Sparkle - I do believe you have it worrrrkiinnnnggg!”
 
>SIR snaps his fingers.
>Nothing happens.
>He glares at his fingers and snaps them again.
>His hair changes into a rainbow afro wig.
>Okay, thats … weird.
 
>While you watch him snaps his fingers and change his hair, his shoes, and his pants, you find yourself able to push with your legs and shimmy up the pole you’re leaning against.
>Hey you’re standing! Yay!
 
>”Oh this is *glorious*!  All the challenge of being *here* instead of *there*, with all the random havoc I can muster! Perhaps I should stick around here -
 
>S N A P<
 
>The sound is like a giant towel being cracked across the unsuspecting butt-cheeks of the universe.
>The cloak - previously boring and blue and hanging between two poles in the middle of the tent - goes all technicolor static.
>Like if a stoner stares at a dead TV channel for too long. An old TV. You saw that once.
>Videodrome.
>Oh that’s a bad movie to remember in a situation like this.
 
>”HA! They laughed when I said I could do it! They MOCKED me! Now, NO ONE WILL MOCK BEATRICE DUPR-oops.”
>DuPris demonstrates how hard it is to stand up while your ankles are taped together.
 
 
>S N A P<
 
>”WHAT? Bring it back! BRING IT BACK!”
>Twi plugs in something… somewhere.
 
>S N A P<
 
 
>The psycho static curtain returns.
>”Good! Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ll just scoop up a big ol’ armload of Chaos and go out there and - urk?”
 
>An arm comes through the static and grabs SIR by his soul patch.
>Kind of a slender arm, paleish, with a few bangle bracelets on it.
>SIR is speaking, but it’s a little challenging when someone’s hanging on to hair that’s growing out of your lower lip.
 
>”Oh *honeybun*! I didn’t expect you to be so near the - I didn’t expect you to *be* here!”
>”Honeybun” - the owner of the hand that’s latched onto SIR’s soul patch -  is a rather waifish looking girl with… really pale strawberry-blond hair. Wearing a sundress and sandals.
 
>”Honeybun” doesn’t look too happy with SIR.
 
>”Listen, sweetie, I can explain - when Sunset came through I just *had* to see what was on the other side and -”
 
>”Honeybun” raises an eyebrow.
>”I was just going to stick my head in - you know, get a look ‘round? - and then my whole *me* went through and it closed up and I *really* did want to come home and - “
 
>”Honeybun” raises both eyebrows.
>”And and and the next time I was just so *distracted* by everything *here* and I -”
>”Honeybun” drops her eyebrows, tilts her head just so, and gives SIR the most MOM of all MOM LOOKS in the history of MOMS LOOKING at someone.
>*You* feel guilty and you didn’t even *do* anything!
>You look over at Twi.
>Twi is looking at “Honeybun” with eyes about the size of tennis balls.
 
>SIR runs out of words and grins. “Still love me, right?”
>”Honeybun” points at the psycho static curtain thingy.
>SIR deflates a little. Shuffles his feet, and skulks toward the curtain.
 
>”Wait! Wait a minute! What about me… SIR?”
>SIR turns to DuPris, who has managed to get the tape off her wrists and is working on her ankles.
>”What? *You*? Oh, you darling delusional doofus… this was never about *you*...”
>”... but what about my money?”
>SIR laughs, not very loud as he’s still wilting under “Honeybun’s” glare.
>”Oh that? What? I lied, of course! Byeeeeee!”
 
>SIR skips through the psycho glowy curtain thing.
>DuPris sputters.
>”Honeybun” looks at you, then Twi, the DuPris, then back at Twi.
>She shrugs and ducks her head, half-smiling.
>”... sorry.”
 
>Then *she’s* gone through the curtain too.
 
 
>DuPris sputters at the vanished SIR.
>She says some really rank things.
>Twilight looks at the curtain, then the pile of SCIENCE! on the table, and back to the curtain
 
“Okay. Anyone else totally lost now?”
>Twi makes her way around the curtain thingy and stands next to you.
>You lean on her.
>She … holds you up. “This… would be the ‘portal’ that Sunny wrote about… but…”
 
>From a very, very long way away, you hear a voice. A female one.
>”Have you got him? You’re *sure*? Good. Let’s keep that from happening again … How long? Well, keep it stable as long as you can. Yes. I am. No, you can’t talk me out of it. What? No. That’s silly. I do not have to wear - listen, you have to do what I - what? Oh… fine. FINE. All right, step back. I’m going -”
 
>A woman with really striking hair steps through the curtain. Auburn and blond and little bits of gold somehow. Wearing a floor-length ball gown. And a tiara.
>Twi stiffens.
 
>”... Sunny?”
 
>The woman - apparently Sunny - smiles lopsidedly. “Hi, Twilight.”
>”You’re wearing a tiara.”
>Sunny nods. “They insisted.”
>”You look well.”
>”You look tired, Twi.”
>”It’s been a rough week…”
 
>Twi and Sunny half-leap at each other and hug.
>Awww.
 
>”... always the favorite…” mutters DuPris.
>Sunny looks over. “Beatrice? Why are your ankles taped together?”
>Twi chuckles. “Long story.” She steps back from Sunny and looks her over. “ How … this is all…”
>Sunny nods, “It’s hugely complicated and the book - which *someone* took from you *far* too soon,” she shoots a Queen Bee glance at DuPris, “has more details in it the more you read it. We wrote it so you’d have a chance to absorb the basic concepts before you were faced with the advanced ones.”
 
>”This makes no sense, Sunny…”
>”It will, Twi. I promise.”
>”You promise?”
>Sunny nods. “I Pinkie Promise.”
>Twi nods, “That’s the most solemn of vows, Sunset. You realize what you’re in for if you don’t follow through?”
>”Oh yes. And I never want to go through *that* again either….” She notices you. “Non?”
>Holy crap, she *does* remember you.
 
“Uh yeah. Hi. You’re wearing a tiara.”
>SMOOTH.
>Sunny laughs, “I didn’t *want* to, but they insisted on it.  Just so you know,  the more you’re in charge of, the more people can make you do what they want you to do.”
“I’ll keep that in mind in case someone forces a tiara on me.”
>YEAH REAL SMOOTH
>Sunny laughs.
>Twi laughs
>Which makes this a ‘win’.
 
>”Sunny, all the things that happened in school, when you ‘went home’?”
>”Yes. I… all of us… owe you some answers.  Are you sure you want to have them?”
>”Sunset Shimmer, that’s all I’ve been looking for.” Twi sighs.
 
>Sunny - Sunset Shimmer - steps back from Twi and turns toward the curtain. “I think you can come through now…”
 
“Twi?”
>”I don’t know either, but -”
 
>Twilight Shimmer walks through the curtain.
 
>She’s not *your* Twi.
>The hair’s the same strange combination of colors but down and loose.
>The clothing is different - prom dress or ball gown of some kind.
>Another tiara.
 
>The other Twilight wobbles a little, holding her hands out in front of her.
>”I can *never* get used to being on my hindquar- oh!”
 
>Twi (*your* Twi) looks at Twilight (the other one).
>Twilight (the other one) looks at Twi.
 
>Twilight moves pretty fast for someone in a ball gown.
>Fast enough to grab Twi in a hug.
>”Omigosh omigosh omigosh OMIGOSH It’s you! When Sunny told me about you I was so excited and worried that somehow I’d messed things up in your world and then when the book jumped off the shelves and hit me in the head I knew you had found it and you look amazing and this is so exciting and …”
>She stops hopping up and down while hugging Twi.
>”... I’m babbling, aren’t I?”
>Twi nods solemnly. “Yes.”
>”I’m sorry. That happens when I’m emotionally overwhelmed. But… it’s overwhelmed in a good way? You don’t get to meet yourself too often.”
>Twilight lets go of Twi, who head-tilts.
>Twilight head-tilts in the opposite direction.
>”At least we didn’t destroy the universe in mutual annihilation,” they say in unison.
 
>You laugh.
>What the hell. That was funny. Don’t care WHO you are!
 
>Two Twilights look over at you.
“Uh. Hi?”
>”Twilight, this is Anon, my partner.”
>”Oh your partner? Do you mean working partner or *partner* partner?” says the other Twilight.
>Twi looks thoughtful.
>”I think we’re working toward both.”
>We are?
>We are.
>Yeah.
 
>The other Twilight beams. “That’s *wonderful*! How long have you two known each other?”
 
“Since high school, but the last week or so…”
>”We’ve gotten to know each other a lot better.” Twi completes your sentence.
>That’s like a warning sign or something, isn’t it?
 
>”*Two* Twilight Spar-KELs…” grumbles Trixie, frantically tearing at her ankles. “I may be ill.”
 
>**DINNGGG**
>Sunny and … the *other* Twilight jerk their heads toward the curtain.
>”That’s the warning, I’m afraid,” says Sunny. “We can only keep this portal open for so long - right now. I’m hoping you can help with that.”
 
>”I’d … love to, Sunny,” says Twi, “But Beatrice took the book you left me - I’ve reclaimed some of it - but I’m missing so much…”
>Sunny looks over at the other Twilight, who straightens up, “Oh! Yes. Pocket… pockets… I’ve missed pockets so much…” She finds what’s apparently a pocket in the gown and pulls out a slim little book. “Always keep backups.”
>Twilight hands the book to Twi.
>You are going to go insane if you have to keep this straight in your head.
 
>The other Twilight grins and bounces on her toes a few times. “This is going to be so *great*!”
 
>**DINNGGG**
>”Oops! I should go through - Sunny, you only have a little more sand -”
>”I know, I know, Twilight.  Get over there and lend your power to the group and we should be fine. I only have a few more things to do here.”
 
>Twilight scampers - scampering appears to be a Twilight thing even if she’s in a ball gown - through the curtain and … away.
 
>Sunny gives Twi another, more deliberate hug. “I’ve missed talking with you. Promise me you’ll keep writing?”
>Twi laughs a little shakily, “Promise you’re not a figment of my imagination? Of course I’ll write. I want to find out how all this…” she gestures, “Works.”
 
“I keep telling you, Twi. Magic.”
 
>Twi glares at you, but not very hard. “Marketing term.”
>Sunny nods. “Yep. It is. But, there is a key to the language you’ll need to have if you can use it.”
>”Magic? Sunny - all this - it’s just a matter of applying the scientific methods and principles of the physical universe to -”
>”Yeees, Twi. ‘Magic’ is the short version of what you’re trying to say.”
>Sunny gestures to the curtain. “Evidence.” She gestures to the slim little book Twi is holding. “Physical evidence.”  She gestures to you. “Corroboration and peer review.”
>She holds up finger And…”
 
>Sunny leans in and whispers something to Twi.
>Twi’s eyes get really, really big.
>A smile slowly spreads across her face.
>If you knew what ‘beatific’ meant, you might use it to describe that smile.
>Sunny steps back and puts her hands on Twi’s shoulders.  “Makes sense now?”
>Twi shakes her head. still smiling “No, but I know where to start. Thank you, Sunny.”
 
>**DINNNGGG**
>From far away “HURRY UP, SUNSET! THE WAVE’S COLLAPSING!”
 
>Sunset grins at you, “Keep doing whatever it is you do for her, Non. It’s good for her. Trust me I’m a -”  
>She steps through the curtain.
>Fine. Leave on a cliffhanger, why don’thca.
 
>DuPris tears through the tape and, apparently her stockings as well and lunges through the curtain.
>”No! I will NOT be DENIED!  BEATRICE DUPRIS! THE FIRST INTERDIMENSIONAL - AAAAAAHHH! I”M A HOR-”
 
>S N A P<
 
>The curtain… is a curtain again.
>Oh, and it’s smoking.
 
>Twi blinks a few times. “We need to de-power the apparatus. Anon - anything that’s a red plug, pull it!”
 
>You and Twi pull red plugs from everything you can find.
>It doesn’t appear to help.
 
>The smoke fills the tent.
>You find the opening through which you had been yoinked and drag Twi (“No wait! We can salvage this!”) through it.
>And a few yards away from the (“It’ll put itself out LET ME BACK IN THERE!”) now furiously burning tent.
>Trying to explain to Blossom and Cryssy that you’re fine and yes the Fire Department should be called.
>And reassuring Blossom and Cryssy that you’re all right. Seriously.
>And across to the other side of campus to the parking lot.
>And out of the parking lot, passing the fire trucks going the other way.
 
>You drive. Twi looks out the window.
>Pretty quiet in here for two people who just had, well, a pretty weird and amazing experience.
 
“You ok, Twi?”
>”Hm?”
“You haven’t said much since we got in the car.”
>Twi leans back into the seat.
>”I’m still processing… things. Filing them away.  Putting them in the Treehouse.”
>She chuckles a little, “I had to build a whole new room to put things into… my notes, the equations in the books… and what Sunny told me.”
 
“What *did* Sunny tell you? Your eyes got huge… I’m guessing it was pretty important.”
>You catch Twi smiling out of the corner of your eye.
 
>”For once, I’m going to make a pop culture reference *you* may not get. Have you ever heard of a comic book character named Johnny Quick?”
>You do some internal searching of your own, which isn’t the greatest thing to do while driving, but what the hell.
“Uh.. Vaguely.”
>”Lance has a few comics with this character in it.  He learns a formula which, when he says it out loud and concentrates on the *meaning* of it, grants him special powers… that’s … close to what Sunny told me. It’s a set of variables and an equation. It’s the breakthrough I needed to move forward in my research.”
 
“So now you know magic?”
>”If you weren’t driving, I’d hit you.” Twi grumbles. “It’s more like… learning a new language, as she said.  The building blocks. This is the way nouns work, this is the way verbs work, this is the basic grammar.   But with that knowledge, you can read the most complex books and understand what’s written in them, given time…”
“So, it’s not magic.”
>”You’re being obtuse to get a rise out of me, aren’t you?
“Guilty as charged.”
 
>Twi leans over and puts her hand on your thigh. That’s as much contact is safe in a moving vehicle owned by Chariot Town Cars.
>“You’re awful. Promise you won’t stop doing things like that?”
“Why?
>”It gets me out of myself.”
“Ok. Just one thing.”
>”Mm?”
“Don’t hit me too hard. I bruise easily.”
>”I’ll try to regulate the force involved.”
 
“Hey… why didn’t the tent...  thing … show up on your magic book tracking - just leave the word ‘magic’ out and keep the rest of the question, okay?”
>Twi leans her head back on the headrest.
>“I’ve been trying to work that out.  From the inside, it looked like the tent was covered in material similar to the camouflage device Beatrice DuPris stole from my company.  It blocks some signals - our phones and earpieces didn’t work once we were inside.
>”It also appeared that the material was useful in generating the wave forms to open the portal…
>”I’ll need to do more research and testing to find out if that evidence, coupled with what Sunny has given me, will enable us to reopen the passageway.”
 
“Us?”
>This statement happens to coincide with a stoplight.
>You look at Twi.
>Twi’s looking at you.
>”What are you doing for the next thirty moons, Anon?”
“... I’ll need to check my schedule…”
>Liar.
 
>Back at the hotel.
>You’re both hit by Hurricane Blossom at the same time
>You are ushered to the kitchen table.
>Blossom has ordered dinner again. Takeout Chinese.
>Blossom is, in fact, wonderful.
>Two six-packs of cider are brought to the table.
>She loves you!
>You and Twi and Blossom and Cryssy are fed to within an inch of your lives while recounting what the hell actually happened out there and why were things on fire when you left.
 
>Cryssy warns of police questioning to come.
>Cryssy also says that she can honestly say she didn’t see anything. On account of not being able to see very well at the time. But she’s getting better.
>”See, the blur that’s sitting awkwardly, that’s Anon.  The blur that’s sitting with amazing posture? That’s Twi. And the really curvy blur is Bloss.” She grins.
>”And if all else fails, I try grabbing bits till I can identify who it is!”
 
>Near the end of dinner and the second - maybe third - bottle of cider, you tell Cryssy that being hit by a taser sucks.
>”No kidding!  They make you take a shock in taser training, stud.  I had to take out *all* my piercings that day because electrical burns on your tender bits? No friggin’ way...”
>”So, no violet wand, Cryss?”
>”... uh. With advance warning, Bloss.”
“And oversharing time has begun.”
>”Has it? I could tell them what I can do to make your back arch,”
“That won’t be necessary, Twi.”
>”It is *now*, stud…”
>You declare a snog break in self-defence.  
>It’s super effective!
 
>Some time and ciders later.
>It’s late.
>Everyone is on the couch and, in some cases, on each other.
>It’s been… a hellacious day.
>Hell, it’s been a hellacious week.
>Week? However many days it’s been.
 
“Twi - do you still have the little book the, uh, *other* Twilight gave you?”
>Twi checks her pockets. “Oh. I put it down on the table with the other book.  I haven’t even had a chance to look at it.”
>You crane around the back of the couch to get a view of the table.
“Twi… did you put the little book on top of the big book?”
>”Yes. Why?”
“I think stuff happened.”
 
>What was a big, kind of skinny book with a smaller, skinnier book on top of it is now a book the same dimensions as the book you fished out of that box Twi pulled out of the base of the statue in the …
 
>It’s the same size as the original book.
>Maybe bigger.
>Twi hauls herself off the couch and over the back of it in her haste to see what’s happened.
>As she flips pages, she laughs, “She *did* say that backups were important…  I think we have a full resto- no, there *are* more pages in here… this is new… and this… and this… oh I could spend a *lot* of time looking through these…”
>You gently separate Twi from the book.
“It’s late. No one is chasing you. The book will still be there in the morning.”
>”But there’s… so much… this is what I asked you do keep doing in the car.”
>She leans back against you. You wrap your arms around her waist.
>”Thank you. How would you feel about a bath, then bed?”
“A bath?”
>”The tub’s big enough for two. Blossom and Cryssy tested that.”
“... more info than needed, but yeah. Bath. Sounds good.”
 
>Bath good.
>Bath with snuggly woman with amazing  multicolored hair and a cute butt who has the mystic ability to get the bath taps to the right temperature? Real good.
>HEY GONADS, BRAIN HERE. ‘SUP?
>HEY BRAIN… JUST CHILLIN’.
>REALLY NOW?
>YEP. SECURE IN THE KNOWLEDGE OF FUTURE ACTIVITY.
 
>Bath leads to bed.
>Bed leads to more snuggling.
>Your left leg pretty much belongs to Twi forever, doesn’t it?
>You tilt your head awkwardly to kiss the top of Twi’s head.
>Lavendar. Chemicals. Ozone. And … something else. Kinda tingly.
>You won’t call it ‘magic’ because that’d lead to hitting.
>But you kinda think it.
 
>Tomorrow is gonna be hectic.
>Probably have to talk to the cops.
>Have to fill in Uncle Enzo.
>Find out if you’re still employed.
>If you have enough cash to take a few days off.
>Convince Twi to take a few days off.
>Figure out how to get Blossom back to her home once the CSI guys and the Rug Guys are done with it.
>Help Twi check out the magic book.
>Maybe even go to that damn reunion.
>Lotta things to think about and do tomorrow.
>Twi makes little Twi sounds against your chest.
>Yeah, you can worry about that stuff later.
 
>Oh look. There *is* a smoke detector up there on the ceiling.
>Little red light.
>You sigh.
>Twi sighs in her sleep.
>You join her.