Consent

Part 2: Sign Here

After much deliberation, I have decided to have a crack at furthering the story line of “Consent,” since so many of you have started tracking it.

He woke to the feeling of her fingers running through his hair.

Spike stirred, opening one eye, only to see a blurred pallet of colours. His foetal position beneath the covers tightened, the barrier of sleep collapsing around him. For the briefest of moments, he wondered if the magical events of the previous night were nothing more than a fabrication of his subconscious mind. That was, until he heard Applejack say softly, “It’s time ta get up, Spike. Ah need ta get ta work, and if ya don’t get back ta the library soon, Twilight’s gonna start frettin’.”

He groaned groggily, reaching to touch his face. His hand limply grasped his forehead. “Five more minutes,” he grumbled, pulling the blanket up further over his shoulder.

Spike felt her weight come to rest on the side of the bed. “Come on, rise and shine,” she intoned, pulling at the sheets.

Keeping the blankets clenched tightly in his fists, he resisted. “I never get to sleep in.” She bent over him, positioning her face above and behind his head.

“You’re not startin’ today,” she smirked, poking out her tongue and licking the back of his ear. The boy yelped in a very unmanly tone.

“Gah!” He clasped a hand over the side of his head, blocking her from further access. “Fine.” Spike conceded and sat up. He resisted the urge to frown at the fully dressed figure of Applejack. He felt a little uncomfortable, still being naked beneath the bedsheets.

“Your clothes are on the blanket box,” she instructed, gesturing toward the corner of the room. Standing up, she moved to her dresser and took out her hairbrush. The process of maintaining her visage was cursory at best. She must have spent a hefty fifteen seconds on it in total. Not that it bothered Spike in the slightest. Her beauty came naturally, like his apparent aptitude with the piano.

He looked to where Applejack had left his clothes, at the almost incalculable distance from the bed to the small oak box. Covering himself, he hastened to fly out of bed and get his pants back on, at the very least. The blond haired woman rolled her eyes, smiling despite the obvious logical flaw in being so eager to cover up for someone he only recently... made love to.

Sentimental thoughts aside, there had been a question on her mind since the they had expressed their love. The boy’s inexperience with intimate moments surprised even her. Waiting until he had fully dressed, she gently inquired into the matter.

“Spike,” she said, moving closer, “Ah want ta ask ya somethin’, but Ah want you to know that Ah won’t think any different of ya no matter what the answer is.”

He looked almost hesitant, rubbing his left forearm submissively. “Uh... Okay, what is it?”

“Last night... Was Ah your first kiss?”

A long silence ensued as Spike delayed his answer. When he finally spoke, he did so slowly, as if one misplaced word could damage their still not fully established relationship. He almost looked guilty. “There was one time with Rarity, but that was on the cheek... You’re... You’re the first girl I’ve ever really kissed… like that.” He turned sullenly, thumbing the collar of his jacket, the only item of clothing that hadn’t been forcefully removed from his body, the only reason being that he had taken it off willingly before she’d mounted him.

The woman didn’t seem to take any notice of his answer, walking over to him casually. Giving him a soft peck on the forehead, Applejack slid her arms around his shoulders from behind. She eased them both into a gentle swivel from left to right. “Ah’m glad.”

Taking an audible inward breath, she released him from the embrace and warmly ushered him to the door of the bedroom. Reaching for the door knob, she hesitated. Biting her lip, she tapped it twice sharply. Spike looked to her confusedly.

“One more thing.”

She looked apprehensive as the boy replied, “Yeah?”

“We should probably… keep all this,” Applejack stuttered, gesturing between them, “to ourselves.”

His mind flickered with possible responses to the strange request. Realizing none of them made any sense, it settled for a puzzled and slightly crestfallen, “Okay.”

“Spike…” She bent down to his eye level. “You’re young and Ah’ve got nearly nine years on you. Even ignoring that we… slept together,” she said, throwing a glance to the bed, “c’n you imagine how other people would react? It probably looks like Ah’m... robbin’ the cradle.”

The apple farmer gave the indignant look on his face time to dissipate. “Ah know it’s not a nice thought, but we can’t even be sure how the other girls would take it, you and me together.”

Taking his hand, she stooped to her knees so that she appeared shorter. “Ah’m sure we wouldn’t be alone, but Ah don’t want ta risk any sort’a conflict. Do ya understand?”

“… I understand.”

“It’s just for now. Besides, Ah’ll make it up to ya when we’re alone~!” she hinted, brushing a hand across the buckle of his belt. Her mischievous smile made his heart rate increase. She allowed him only a few seconds to gather himself from her flustering innuendo before opening the door as originally intended.

“Come on, now,” Applejack drilled, forcing him out of the room with a strong athletic butt slap, “We gotta get movin’. Did ya want ta stay for breakfast?”

Recovering from his reflexive twitch, he smiled warily. “No thanks. I think I’ll go straight to the library.”

She shrugged. “Suit yourself.”

One short, hastily suggested shower later, Spike was out the door.

Even with the chill of mid winter covering the fields of Sweet Apple Acres in with a thick layer of snow, the stolen goodbye kiss back at the farm house left Spike feeling warm. His lips still tingled from the intim-

He shook his head vigorously, ridding himself of such sentimental, mushy thoughts.

The sound of shifting snow to the side of the path roused his attention. A large, toffee brown border collie pawed at the white slush. There was the possibility that it could be trying to find a buried bone, but it seemed more likely that the work dog was just wandering aimlessly. It sniffed around the small hole it had dug, before moving on to another random location it had decided was of some importance. There, it began digging again.

“Winona!” he called, snatching the bitch’s attention away from the ground. “What are you doing all the way out here?” She appeared to eye him suspiciously, before turning and trotting off, head held resentfully.

Spike watched Winona walk off with confusion, squinting as if his eyesight had somehow failed him. This was a first. His face became slightly sour. “Fine, be that way. Don’t you like me now that I’m... with... Applejack...” Frowning, he continued toward Ponyville.

The notion, even now, made him want to pinch himself, just to be certain. He even scanned the skies for any pink clouds as he walked, lest the god of chaos be behind it all. Nothing but white. Somehow, it still seemed more likely to be the work of Discord than of any natural force.

I love you.

The words were heavy. Not just because of the meaningful tone she used, but because she was Applejack, the element of honesty. A blind man could see through any attempt she made at exaggeration, much less a lie. She meant it, but why hide the relationship? Her concerns were over their age difference, yet the other girls had seemed receptive enough to his fantasies involving Rarity, who he believed be a little older. Why would this be any different?

Ah.

It should have been apparent from the start, a most important detail. This was real. His infatuation with Rarity had appeared to lead nowhere, just ‘puppy love.’ This was an intimate relationship. Hell, they’d had sex. How would it look for a grown woman to have done such a thing with him? Taboo would be an understatement.

Spike started to get a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach as his home faded into his vision out of the early morning fog. Obviously, he had to keep quiet. Knocking on the door, he did just that.

Completely contrary to what he was expecting, Twilight answered the door brightly. He expected her paranoid side to at least want to know what her assistant was doing all night at one of her friend’s homes, but the librarian seemed content to leave the questions unasked in favor of scanning a list of chores for him to do. It should not have been very long. To his relief, she had kept the library in relative order, no large piles of books for him to spend the next few hours putting back in their places. Perhaps some light dusting would be in order. He could see the thin film of particles that coated the mahogany shelves.

“So what did Applejack need you for?” she asked without warning, her deep lilac shaded eyes still flicking across the page. Spike cringed at the list’s sheer length.

“Not anything big, just a bit of lifting and managerial stuff,” he laughed nervously, only partly lying. “You know, apples and all.”

“I hope you didn’t push yourself too hard.”

“Oh, It was pretty tiring, but very rewarding in the... ahem, end.” Judging by her very generic response, Twilight wasn’t paying much attention to his subtle innuendo.

“Well, I hope you’re up for a walk to the Carousel Boutique,” she remarked, whisking back a few stray strands of her dark violet hair from her forehead. “A few books Rarity borrowed are now overdue. She’s been swamped with work lately, so I’d say she just forgot about them.” Quickly slipping Spike the short list of literature, she turned to her study addled desk. “Don’t take too long. There’s a lot more for you to do once you get back.”

He yawned, but tried to ensure it was covered by his loud footsteps and swift movement toward the door; it had been a late night, and the high from excitement at the prospect of a long term relationship would only last so long. To his dismay, Twilight noticed immediately.

As if reading his thoughts, she quipped, “Late night?” Spike paused just a few paces from the door, rotating his head to the side in a lame attempt to look at the woman behind him. She had swivelled around on her chair to face him, resting her forearm on the back.

“Yeah, I guess you could say that. I’ll just go to bed a little earlier tonight.”

“What time did you get to sleep?”

He recalled the glances at the wall clock, rubbing his ear with his thumb and forefinger. He turned around to face her. “I think it was almost ten.” If Twilight disapproved of the time, she didn’t show it. She nodded with exceeding finality.

“Hey, where did you actually sleep? I didn’t think they had a guest room.” Spike’s mind scrambled for a believable answer. A simple question, yet the answer could arouse suspicion if not worded correctly.

“I slept with Applejack.”

Perfectly innocent statement right there.

Twilight’s face twisted with a mixture confusion and worry. She opened her mouth to speak, but the boy was intelligent enough to cut her off before she made any correct assumptions.

“In her room, that is, not in the same bed. They had a spare mattress,” he lied.

The look on the librarian’s face was certainly one of disbelief. “I see,” she muttered, turning back to her desk.

“Is something wrong?” Spike tried to sound surprised by her reaction.

Keeping her eyes fixed on the various pieces of parchment before her, she divulged, “No, no. I guess I'm just a little surprised that you’d develop a crush on Applejack,of all people. Whatever happened to Rarity?”

He noticed Twilight’s grin of amusement. She was only teasing him, but he could always neglect to correct her and introduce this new idea to his adoptive sister. Rubbing his left arm furtively, he stammered, “Yeah... Rarity kinda ‘friend’ zoned me a while ago. And who said this was a crush? I just think she’s... pretty.” It may have been stretching the truth to its limit, but that didn’t prevent him from blushing lightly.

Now it was Twilight’s turn to play the confused fool, left behind in the trail of the conversation. She turned around and furrowed her brow at him, half expecting a continuation. He decided it best to leave her hanging. She did not question him further, in any case.

Standing at the bottom of the heart engraved stairs that led to his and Twilight’s personal quarters, Spike called into the distance, “Peewee! Down here!”

In a flicker of light and flame, a young phoenix swept into the room. Shining embers popped in his amber wake as his normally yellow feathers continuously combusted. As much as the little guy tried, there was no way he could generate the spectacular light show of the fully grown phoenixes. He did, however, manage to startle a lightly slumbering Owloysius by squawking loudly as he flew by in another lap of the library. The owl scowled disdainfully, before turning away in a huff and attempting to recapture the sleep that Peewee had so rudely taken from him.

The flames from the phoenix’s feathers died, finishing their final ostentatious circle of the room. He landed on Spike’s shoulder with a final flurry of his wings. Twilight questioned the wisdom of taking a magical fire bird outside in the winter.

“Aw, come on, Twilight. It’ll only be for a short trip. Besides, he’s been cooped up for a while here.” Spike pleaded.

“Fine,” the librarian conceded, unwilling to engage in a debate, “Just keep him away from the snow.”

“Will do!” said Spike, opening the front door and heading out.

Back soon.

The sign hung on the door of the Boutique was another example of how just a couple of words, used in the right context, could have so much meaning. On any other store door, it wouldn’t have been conspicuous, just a case of a temporary interruption in store operations caused by a personal matter, but this was Rarity. Short of Applejack going missing, a parasprite infestation or an imperfection induced mental breakdown, she would always give her customers at least two days warning that the store would be closed.

Something big must have happened in order to force her to leave her business unattended. In all likelihood, the fashionista in question would not be there, but just on the off chance, Spike knocked. “Hello? It’s me, Spike. Is anyone in there?” He looked to the bird perched on his shoulder, then back to the unmoving door.

For a while, it seemed that the building was well and truly empty. The teen simply stared at the frilly door, cautiously hopeful. His patience paid off, as the door quietly unlocked from the inside. Opened with speed, it gave way to not the assistant’s person of interest, but her little sister, Sweetie Belle. Her face looked a little begrudging, but brightened upon seeing him.

“Hi Spike,” she smiled, “Are you here to see Rarity?”

“Yeah, is she here?”

“No, sorry,” Sweetie Belle sighed, “She went into town to get some supplies. I don’t know when she’ll be back. She’s been really panicky lately.”

“Twilight said she’s been busy.”

Sweetie let the door swing open wider. “You don’t know the half of it. I haven’t seen her this frantic since the whole Gala dresses thing.” She idly toyed with the fake rose adorned on her hairband. “So what do you need, anyway? I might be able to help you.”

Spike produced the slip of paper Twilight had given him from the pocket of his jacket. “Just a couple of overdue library books,” he said. The girl opened the door all the way, beckoning him to enter. He wiped his shoes on the strategically placed doormat before entering. The door shut behind him with a solid click.

“They’re probably in her room. I’ll help you look for them,” she said, leading Spike to her big sister’s bedroom. Their combined footsteps pierced the eerily silent atmosphere of the building. To the boy’s relief, the usually energetic Peewee was content to stay on his shoulder, his energy spent from the fireball permeated flight across town.

Spike had seen Rarity’s bedroom plenty of times before, but this particular instance was somehow different. Whether it was the absence of the woman herself or not, he did not know. It was almost as if the room itself wasn’t as full of wonder as it had been the last few times he had been present.

Giving a trained instruction to his pet phoenix, Spike tapped the corner of a bare table twice with his index and middle finger. Peewee obeyed and jumped to the indicated position. The girl seemed impressed by the display of obedience.

“So what are we looking for?” asked Sweetie, taking a cursory glance around the room.

Spike looked again to his note. “Uh... Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me.”

“What is it?”

The paper crumpled softly in his grasp as he droned, “Pride and Prejudice and something called Passion.”

Sweetie smiled sweetly. “Sounds like Rarity’s been reading romance novels.” Spike made an exaggerated gagging sound in response. Her smile very quickly changed to a teasing smirk. “Don’t you like romance, Spike?” she asked.

The boy muttered something about manliness, handlebar moustaches and flapjacks as he took a few steps around the bedroom. He absently brushed off the conversation in favour of completing the task he was there to do, which soon turned out to be far more difficult than he had expected. While the room was organised to a very high standard, there wasn’t exactly a label marking her reading material.

“Have you ever had a girlfriend, Spike?” asked the girl in the modest white dress as she began her own search.

“No... I suppose I haven’t,” he lied.

“Well, do you like anyone?”

Spike opened and closed another drawer on Rarity’s desk, dodging the question with, “It’d be pretty hard to have the friends I do without liking any of them.”

Sweetie’s eyes narrowed. “You know what I mean,” she criticised, “Do you like like anyone? Like, I heard you had a crush on Rainbow Dash.”

“What!?”

“I thought it was pretty strange, but then again, I’m pretty sure I’ve seen you stare at her butt more than a couple of times.”

Spike shook his head. “N-n-no I don’t!” Sure, he’d given her posterior a few longing sideways glances, but to be fair, this was before Applejack, and pretty much all the men in the area did it.

The entranced girl went on obviously. “I think she actually saw you do it that one time at the beach, when she was wearing a bikini, but she kinda pulled it up so it was tighter and winked at you.” She saw the boy’s confused expression and tried to clarify. “You remember, then she did that sneaky bra ‘adjusting’ trick. I didn’t know people could blush that much.”

He groaned for the second time that day. “How did you even see that?”

“Rarity pointed it out to me at the time. She found it pretty funny,” said Sweetie, clasping her hands together and bringing them up to her face with a dreamy expression, “Oh, Spike! Do you think she might like you back? You two would be so cute together. Have you thought about asking her out?”

His pace quickened. Where the hell did Rarity keep her library books? The only place he hadn’t checked was... her bedside table. Suppressing the urge to slap himself for overlooking such an obvious place, he approached the piece of furniture. “Are you kidding? She’s twenty. Besides, I never said I liked her in the first place,” he countered to her rather extreme idea.

Ignoring his last comment, Sweetie cooed only half earnestly, “But Spike, since when has age ever been a barrier for love?”

Not wanting to be a part of the conversation any longer, Spike threw the bedside table drawer open to find both of the items in question. Hallelujah. Now all he had to do was...

“Ooh!” Sweetie said dreamily, possibly taking more enjoyment out of flustering Spike than she should have, “If you got together, we could give the two of you one of those cute couple’s names!”

“Well, I gotta go.” he said quickly, “ThanksforallyourhelpdropthatthingaboutRainbowDash-bye!” In a blur of purple and green, he fled down the hall and out of the building, his forgotten Peewee following shortly after. She giggled.

Rainbow Dash sneezed, foiling her attempt to sneak up on a distracted Applejack. The farmer looked up at her from her apple stand in the middle of the cold marketplace. She laughed, turning back to finish the transaction with her customer.

Attempting to recover from the blatantly embarrassing interruption to her ‘coolness’, Rainbow leaned against the side of the stand casually. “So...” she intoned.

Applejack regarded her somewhat awkward looking friend from across the bench. “Ya’ here to buy apples or jus’ chit-chat?” she asked, mock incredulous.

“Oh, I just wanted to tell you me and Pinkie Pie will be going to that new club tonight,” Rainbow drawled, idly inspecting the backs of her fingers. “We were wondering if you’d like to come with.” Applejack bit her lip in thought as Rainbow went on. “It’s a new one called Club Envy.” The woman with the stetson hat continued to look hesitant.

“There’ll be cute guys~” Rainbow Dash encouraged, unknowing that Applejack could not be swayed with that particular offer.

In the end, she offered a weak smile and said, “Sure, what time?”

Rainbow clapped her hands together excitedly. “Great! Be there at seven sharp.”

Applejack’s smile deepened. “Ah’ll see ya there.”

Author’s Note:

Hopefully I’m not about to ruin the story by making this a multi-chapter. This is kinda “meh” in my opinion. Something about it just seemed rather off. Also, the pronouns are really p***ing me off. I’m pretty sure I messed up the characterization too. On the other hand, I am rarely ever completely satisfied with whatever I’ve written.

Despite the fact that the image prompt forced me to use Applejack in this story (not that I’m complaining), I do believe she’s the most appropriate partner for Spike when exploring this particular theme. Part of me thinks Rarity would be too... respectable? While she wouldn’t have anything against showing him platonic affection, being, say, 25 in this universe, I doubt she would want to take it any further than that. AJ, were she to be infatuated with Spike, I think would be more likely to engage in some sort of intimate relationship. Of course, I could be completely off track, but the only other option that would be original (there have been a few fics with these taboo relationships) is Rainbow Dash...