Dos Marejeres, Un Palomino
Alternate Title: Mare-ia la del Barrio
“So, ah know it’s kind of late in the trip for me to be askin’, but it’s buggin’ me,” Apple Bloom commented. “Ah git why Big Macintosh is here, and ah git why Rarity’s here, too; but why’s Spike comin’ with us?”
Spike frowned deeply. “I already explained it,” he sighed. “Twilight said we could both use a vacation from each other, and she figured this would be a good opportunity for that.”
What Spike wasn’t telling them was that Twilight hadn’t phrased it quite as politely as that. The whole hullabaloo had come about because Spike had accidentally shelved Twilight’s collection of erotic friendfiction in the self-help section of the library.
Spike didn’t see this simple mistake as much of a big deal. After all, what Twilight was doing with those dirty stories she kept writing about all of their friends was the very definition of ‘self-help’.
Twilight hadn’t seen it that way.
One of the schoolfoals had discovered the mistake during their biweekly field trip to the library, and boy had Twilight been upset. The mistake had turned into a seed of tension that grew steadily over the following weeks into a wall-rattling shouting match.
Still, things weren’t that bad. Twilight, eventually, understood it had been a mistake, and their increasingly frequent arguments had all been over superficial, stupid things like chipped cereal bowls or crumbs on her favorite reading cushions. A bit of time apart to cool their heads was all they needed for things to get back to right as rain.
“’kay, that’s awesome,” Apple Bloom nodded, “but it doesn’t explain why Fluttershy is here.”
The yellow mare jumped slightly at the mention of her name. She turned away from the window of the coach they were riding in and smiled nervously at the rest of the compartment.
“W-well, there’s three of you fillies on this trip,” Fluttershy explained, “so we all decided that there should be three chaperones: one for each filly. And since everypony else was busy, I jumped at the chance. I’ve always wanted to see Marexico. It’s such a beautiful land.”
The small dragon’s hackles went up angrily. “Wait a minute, that’s why you came? To be a third chaperone? I don’t count? I may be a baby dragon, but in pony years I’m totally an adult, and I’m at least as mature as anypony else in this cabin.”
The large red stallion next to Spike cleared his throat.
“Well, as mature as anypony except Big Mac,” Spike admitted.
“Oh no no no no no,” Fluttershy quickly denied. “Of course we think you’re mature, Spike. I mean we didn’t bring a chaperone for you, did we? And this is supposed to be a vacation for you, too, we wouldn’t dream of making you take care of rambunctious fillies like these three.”
“Very true, Spikey-wikey,” Rarity spoke up, snapping shut the cheap paperback romance she was reading. “We think you every bit as mature as any of us, Big Mac excluded, of course. You’re far too sensitive of the subject.”
Spike flushed a little. “Sorry,” he apologized. “Just been a rough couple of weeks. And sometimes I forget what it’s like to be treated like everypony else. Twilight just treats me like her bungling little brother most of the time.”
“It is rather unfair, the way she infantilizes you, and you really should discuss it with her once we get back to Ponyville. Understand though that it’s difficult for older siblings to begin seeing their youngers as mature, independent, self-actualized adults of their own. You should see this as a transitional period between two distinct understandings of one another and your relationship as a whole. But that’s a concern for a later date. For now you shouldn’t worry too much about it and try to relax. Ah’m sure after a few weeks away from you she’ll realize you take care of her as much as she takes care of you.”
Every set of eyes in the fixed on Big Mac.
“You know it’s creepy how you say stuff like that out of nowhere,” Spike said.
“Eeyup.”
Spike sighed and stared out the window as the dusty plains of Marexico whipped by their carriage. Fluttershy had been right; it really was a beautiful land. It was strange to think that the whole trip had been so hastily planned out because of a single letter.
Scootaloo, the pegasus of the trio of friends that called themselves the Cutie Mark Crusaders, was an orphan, raised by a distant cousin of her late mother’s who traveled a lot for work, leaving the filly mostly unsupervised. Out of the blue she’d received a letter summoning her to Marexico. The letter was supposedly from her birth father: a stallion the girl had never known.
The other two Crusaders had insisted at once on going with their friend on this life changing trip, and of course they’d need supervision. Once a telegram conversation with Scootaloo’s guardian had secured permission, planning had proceeded swiftly.
To the surprise of everypony, Applejack had insisted on Big Mac going on the trip, citing his refusal to ever take a break from work as reason enough. “That colt is all work and no play,” Applejack had explained.
It was nice to know Spike wouldn’t be the only guy on this trip. He wasn’t averse to spending time around girls, but sometimes it was nice to just get some guy time. Not that he’d be spending much time with anypony but Rarity. This vacation was the perfect opportunity to put the moves on the mare who had so far slipped through his claws.
This vacation would be romantic if it killed him.
***
“Bienvenidos to the most haunted haycienda in all of Marexico,” the dignified orange pegasus stallion welcomed. He wore an elegant jacket and had his jet black mane, peppered handsomely with silver streaks, coiffed voluminously in a feathered pompadour. He stood on his hind legs and bowed deeply. “You must be senorita Scootaloo and her entourage.”
Scootaloo kicked the door of the carriage open and leapt at the stallion.
“Papa!” she shouted, her tiny wings fluttering ecstatically as she wrapped her arms around the neck of the pegasus.
He cleared his throat and pried the young girl off of him. “Hm, yes, my apologies for any misunderstanding,” he explained as he smoothed his jacket and turned to address the adults. “I am Estrada Heartthrob, please call me Heartthrob. I am the lawyer on retainer to senorita Scootaloo’s noble family.”
“I have a lawyer!” Scootaloo exclaimed, attempting to hug the stallion yet again.
“Yes, well,” the lawyer coughed nervously, indulged her in a brief hug, and set her back down. “I am afraid I must be the bearer bad news. You see, la senorita was summoned to her family’s lands to meet her father, Truckaloo, as his health began to fail him.”
Scootaloo’s face fell in shock.
“It gives me no pleasure to inform you of his passing only days ago,” he sighed. “In accordance with family traditions, his remains have already been cremated and spread from the highest mesa on the property.”
The other four mares rushed to Scootaloo’s side and began to comfort her as tears built in her eyes.
“Your trip was not in vain, however,” Heartthrob continued. “As his final living blood relative, the entirety of his vast fortune, including this property, is now yours.”
“YES!!!” Scootaloo exclaimed. She leapt high in the air and did a back flip. “I’m buckin’ rich! Filthy buckin’ rich!”
“YOUNG LADY!” Rarity and Fluttershy decried in unison.
“Oh, I’m sorry, am I not supposed to be excited about being rich!?” Scootaloo challenged.
“A lady does not use such language!” Rarity chastised.
“And he was your father!” Fluttershy added more forcefully than she would have in any other circumstance. “You could show a little restraint!”
“Oh, please, he left my mom before I was even born, sure I’m sad I’ll never get to meet him, but that’s like a three,” she explained holding her hoof a little off the ground. “Hearing that I’m dirty stinking nasty wealthy? That’s like a fourteen.” She reared up and lifted her hoof as high as she could.
“I’m sorry,” Spike interjected from the carriage where he and Big Mac peeked their heads out of the doorway without disembarking, “but is everypony else just ignoring the part where he called this the most haunted haycienda in Marexico? I’m not just imagining that, am I?”
Spike looked to Big Mac who gave him a terrified shake of his head.
The coachponies that had pulled them from the train station were already tossing luggage gracelessly off the roof of the car. The last piece of luggage was cast away and one of the coachponies performed an acrobatic flip through the open window on the far side of the carriage, gracefully slipping inside and shoving the stallion and dragon forcefully onto the dirt. The pair hastily harnessed themselves and galloped away as fast as they could.
Spike pointed a claw after the retreating coach. “See!? They heard it too!”
“A small joke on my part,” the lawyer waved off the concern. “I was merely indulging in a bit of local superstition. The ponies of Marexico are still a very superstitious lot. This haycienda is very old and has a colorful history, but I assure you it is merely a point of curiosity, rather than fact.”
“We would love to hear more, senor,” Rarity squealed, she just loved a good ghost story.
“It would be my pleasure, senorita,” Heartthrob bowed his head and motioned towards the enormous, elegant home. “Please, allow me to give you a tour of the main house, I can tell the tale as we walk to the late senor’s study to sign the paperwork for la senorita.”
The group began to follow their guide into the building through a pair of enormous oaken double doors, hoof carved with depictions of Celestia and Luna frolicking among the mesas and saguaro cacti with buffalo and ponies alike.
Fluttershy was trailing at the back and stopped to look over her shoulder. She smirked mischievously and trotted over to the pile of discarded luggage, behind which Spike and Big Mac were cowering.
“Oh, really now,” she chastised with a cluck of her tongue. “Two big strong boys like you and you’re going to let five cute, defenseless girls like us go into this big scary haunted house with only one stallion to protect us?”
She giggled demurely behind her hooves as she flapped her wings and slowly flew backwards towards the entrance.
“You big scaredies, there’s no such thing as real ghosts,” she proclaimed as she disappeared through the door into the ominous darkness of the entrance.
Spike and Mac looked to each other and swallowed loudly.
“Reckon we oughta go in?” Big Mac asked.
“Depends on how long you think it’d take us to walk back to the train station,” Spike offered.
“Reckon you could live knowin’ you were too yeller to follow?”
“I could live with a lot of things.”
The issue was decided for them by the sound of a filly’s scream piercing the air. In unison the two males leapt over the luggage shelter as they fell prey to their instincts to rush to the aid of a screaming girl.
Inside the lobby they found Scootaloo giggling, sprawled out on the floor at the base of an enormous sweeping staircase, one of a matching pair at opposite ends of the massive foyer, leading to the second floor. Her two friends followed behind her shortly, squealing with joy themselves as they rocketed to the ground floor.
“Girls! You shouldn’t play like that! It’s dangerous!” Big Mac scolded. “Act your ages!”
The air was filled with two more joyful shrieks as Fluttershy and Rarity flew into a giggling heap at the foot of the other staircase.
Spike and Big Mac raised their eyebrows questioningly.
“Really?” Spike asked. “I mean… really? Examples, you two.”
“Oh, hush,” Rarity pouted as she adjusted her mane. “We’re on vacation.”
Heartthrob looked down at them from the second floor and smiled warmly at the antics of the young girls. He cleared his throat to bring their attention back to business.
The girls all ascended the stairs in a cluster, giggling sheepishly. The two males rolled their eyes and followed closely.
The interior of the house was sheer opulence: marble and oak everywhere, inlays of silver and gold threaded every surface, creating elegant, sweeping patterns on everything. Expensive looking paintings adorned the walls and various rich pony bric-a-brac sat atop elegant pedestals along the hallways.
“This land was purchased four hundred years ago by la senorita’s esteemed ancestor, Zeppelinaloo, young widowed wife of Conky Estador, a retired weapons manufacturer from Epona,” Heartthrob explained, his deep velvety voice taking on even silkier tones as he threw himself into the role of tour guide. “Prior to this purchase, the land was the site of an ancient Native-Equestrian burial ground.”
Every pair of eyes went wide.
“This house is built over someplace that the native buffalo used to bury their dead!?” Scootaloo shrieked. She glanced at the group nervously. Fluttershy looked ready to faint.
“Scootaloo, dearie, I’m certain the builders moved the remains to another location with the greatest of care and respect,” Rarity surmised. “D-didn’t they?”
“Of course,” Heartthrob nodded. “The remains were moved…”
The rest of the group exhaled as one.
“…closer to the house,” the lawyer further explained with a raise of his eyebrow.
Scootaloo blanched. “That’s bad…”
“Senora Zeppelinaloo was very eccentric. She believed the bones would bring her good luck.”
“That’s good!” Scootaloo smiled.
“Then the house burned down.”
“Oh, dear me,” Rarity muttered. “Did anypony get hurt?”
“There were no survivors,” he said.
“That’s bad…” Scootaloo frowned.
Heartthrob led the group through a series of twisting hallways that reminded them all of the castle’s hedge maze in Canterlot.
“The land was leased by her daughter, who had been away at boarding school at the time of the fire, to a medical concern and a sanatorium was built in the haycienda’s place.”
“That’s good! I think…”
“A sanatorium is a hospital that provides long term care for the chronically ill and the psychologically disturbed,” he explained, getting the idea that she wasn’t sure what the word meant. “Many of the practices and treatments used that came to light years later would be considered cruel, bordering on sadistic.”
“That’s bad…”
“But the sanatorium was able to prevent the spread of an infectious disease by giving a place to quarantine all infected patients.”
“That’s good!”
“The sanatorium also burned down. There were no survivors.”
“That’s bad…”
“The land was then repurposed into a lovely picnic area and puppy farm.”
“Hey, now that one has to be good!” Scootaloo declared hopefully.
“There were no survivors.”
“Can I go home now?” Sweetie Belle sniffled. Behind her Rarity was fanning her face worriedly and Fluttershy had begun to hyperventilate, tears filling her eyes to the brim.
Spike and Big Mac were straight faced but pale, their eyes darting about for signs of ghosts or fire.
“At this point the lands went vacant for many years,” the older stallion sighed. “Until la senorita’s great grandfather enlisted the help of a Native-Equestrian medicine buffalo to help appease the spirits. A new home, along with a fantastically profitable wine vineyard at the rear of the property, was built atop the ashes of those previous misfortunes. This house we now walk the halls of is that very same.”
Fluttershy stood, leaned back with a hoof to her forehead, and fainted dead away. Big Mac darted behind her in time to break her fall. He shrugged her onto his back and continued walking, cautiously, with the tour group.
Heartthrob opened a door at the end of the hallway into their destination. The private study was roomy, with plush couches and fluffy cushions everywhere. Every wall, from floor to ceiling, was a bookshelf filled to bursting with books of all sizes and shapes of every imaginable subject. Spike could see more than a few volumes that Twilight would have flipped her wig over.
The lawyer stepped around an antique stained mahogany desk and took a seat. “As I said, this property has a long, tragic history, but that is merely a matter of interest. Now, before we begin the paperwork, there is one more item to bequeath to la senorita.”
Heartthrob opened a drawer and removed a plain wooden case, not unlike the kind that jewelry was stored in. “This was your father’s prized possession, and it now belongs to you.”
The stallion opened the case gingerly, studied the contents, and spun it around so the rest of the room could admire the object.
“This is your father’s mustache,” he whispered reverently. The mustache in question was lush and full. It was black as obsidian and curled wickedly into handlebars.
“Sweeeeeet,” Spike and Scootaloo praised under their breaths. Big Mac nodded in appreciation of the fine muzzle-duster. The three remaining conscious mares just rolled their eyes.
Heartthrob closed the case with a snap and replaced it to its drawer. He reached into another draw and withdrew a stack of documents and a pen.
Scootaloo sighed but hopped onto the desk, picking the pen up in her mouth and signing wherever she was directed to. The task took about fifteen minutes, leaving the others to wander the elegant room and admire the décor. Fluttershy had awoken but chosen to stay close to big Mac and Spike who were intensely appraising a painting of an earthpony bullfighter. The bull and pony faced off in the center of a ring, surrounded by flashing lights. They wore matching gloves but different colored boxing shorts.
“Now then,” the lawyer stated, bringing the group back to the center of the room. “One final bit of business. This property now is yours, to do with as you please, however you are prohibited from entering the catacombs in the basement.”
“Wait what?” Scootaloo asked, spitting out her pen. “It’s my house but I’m not allowed to go anywhere I want?”
The older pegasus shrugged. “This has been the tradition of your family since your great grandfather’s time. The story goes that he warned that the bones of the Native-Equestrians should not be disturbed, lest the ceremonial treasure offering to appease their anger be for naught… Not that I believe in such things, you understand. It is merely something expressed in your father’s will.”
Scootaloo sputtered. “TREASURE!?”
“Indeed,” Heartthrob replied with a raised eyebrow. “The ceremony he and the medicine buffalo supposedly performed involved the offering of a great treasure. According to one telling, it was the once lost Owlmec treasure of the Temple of the Sky Axolotl. Legend says that it is buried within those catacombs, but no one has been foolish enough to tempt the fates to retrieve it.”
***
Spike sat alone, lounging in one of the mansion’s three smoking rooms. The rest of the group had decided to explore the home a little more, but all the excitement of the trip and the tour had worn him out. The others had all been too spooked to split up, but Spike was a little more accustomed to weird magicky nonsense than they were, having spent most of his life living with an eccentric magician. If the home had gone unhaunted for generations, then the ceremony must have worked, and that was good enough for Spike’s peace of mind.
He had chosen this room partly because it smelled pleasantly of burnt cedar chips, and mainly because it had one addition that no other room had: a massive television.
Spike had seen televisions before, but they were mostly a luxury item. The palace had one in Celestia and Luna’s private study, and Spike had joined Luna for movie nights once or twice in the past. Sadly, Twilight had no notion of the value of good television, and strangely enough neither did any of their other friends.
The model Scootaloo’s house had was the very latest: an enormous twenty inches, color, and a remote control. Spike knew this was where he’d be spending the remainder of his vacation when he wasn’t trying to woo the fair Rarity.
His solitude was broken by the entrance of his friends. They were chatting happily, seemingly having gotten over their fear of the beautiful home’s macabre backstory.
“Whoa, I’ve got a TV!” Scootaloo exclaimed. She rushed forward, joined by the other crusaders who crowded against the TV, muzzles pressed to the glass. “It’s huge!”
“Girls, back up a bit, that can’t be good fer yer eyes,” Big Mac warned. The girls groaned sadly and moved back to sit at the foot of Spike’s couch. The two older mares sat on the couch, one on each side of Spike, and Big Mac took a recliner off to the side for himself.
“What’s this you’re watching, Spikey?” Rarity asked.
“Novela,” Spike explained. “Commercials for it say it’s the highest rated show in Marexico right now. They’re running an all day marathon of the entire thing since it’s ending tonight.”
“Novela?” Fluttershy asked. “Like a book?”
“More like a soap opera,” Spike answered. He received blank stares and sighed. “Soap operas are long running dramas filled with sex, murder, love, betrayal; you know, the juicy stuff. Big difference between telenovelas and the soap operas back home is that novelas end. There’s some soap opera called As the Sun Rises that Celestia has been watching every day since before I was hatched.”
“Doesn’t sound like the kind of thing the kids should be watchin’,” Big Macintosh proclaimed.
“It’s very sanitary,” Spike waved the concern off with a claw. “Just lots of dramatic camera angles, close ups on crying faces, and musical stings.”
“I didn’t know you spoke Eponish,” Sweetie Belle commented. She was frowning and tilting her head in concentration trying to work out the dialogue of the actors on screen.
Spike shrugged. “I speak a lot of languages. I grew up in a library… in the castle. You know how it is: take this dignitary’s son on a tour of the garden, request that book from a foreign library, help translate this spell scroll. I picked it up so I could do my work as Twilight’s assistant.”
“Who’s that?” Scootaloo asked, pointing her hoof at a stallion with an evilly pencil thin mustache and goatee.
“That’s Don Keynote,” Spike explained. “He’s the owner of the sheep ranch this show’s set on.”
“And her?” Rarity asked. The screen now showed an attractive mare wearing expensive jewelry and a fabulous dress covered in precious stones.
“That’s his daughter, Socorro Alacran,” Spike answered. The rest of the group looked to him and simultaneously motioned for him to continue.
He sighed deeply. “I’ll just give you the run down: The show’s set on a sheep ranch named Alma en el Cielo. The owner, Don Keynote, invites a young business associate, Serious Guapo, to come to the ranch with the pretense of sealing a business deal by marrying the stallion to his daughter. The Don has some other motive, though, that hasn’t been explained yet. There’s also the ranch-hoof named Mas Macho, who is having an affair with Socorro. And the maidservant, Azucar Morena, is being forced into an affair with the Don even though she’s in unrequited love with Macho and is starting to become closer to Guapo. And Guapo is beginning to question his attraction to Socorro as his affection for Azucar grows.”
“Sounds like it’s just a bunch of ponies stabbin’ each other in the back and keepin’ secrets,” Big Mac surmised. “I don’t see the appeal.”
“Well the appeal is the same as it is for Equestrian soap operas,” Spike explained, “ponies just like watching rich ponies be naughty.”
Rarity and Fluttershy nodded enthusiastically. The three crusaders just looked at each other and shrugged before turning their attention back to the screen. The group returned to watching the drama play out. Occasionally somepony would ask Spike to translate a particularly dramatic conversation.
Big Mac was the one who asked for translations most often.
***
The three Cutie Mark Crusaders wandered through the halls of the haycienda, fully burdened with various tools, bulging backpacks, and mining hats. They had slipped away from the adults who were engrossed in the TV drama upstairs by pretending they were sleepy. The older ponies and dragon had waved them off with half muttered valedictions without even looking away from the screen.
The trio eventually found their way to a door that opened into a creaky old staircase descending into an inky blackness. They trotted cautiously into the gloom, Scootaloo in the lead, and turned on their mining lights to scan the area for dangers.
The basement of the home was the least elegant place on the property. The dirt floors and cobblestone walls were a stark contrast to the opulent décor only one floor above. The only furnishings in the barren room were some racks filled with dusty old bottles of wine, which were likely choice vintages from the property’s own vineyard.
“I hate this place,” Sweetie Belle explained, hunkering down and glancing around nervously. “It’s spooky down here.”
“Are you kidding!?” Scootaloo asked hotly. “I love every inch of this place! Can you believe it belongs to me? I always wondered where I got my feisty temperament. Now I know it’s from the hot Latin blood coursing through my veins.”
“You only learned that you were Marexican like a week ago,” Apple Bloom pointed out.
Scootaloo spun around and reared up on the other two. “Don’t insult the honor of my proud Marexican heritage, gringa!”
Sweetie Belle and Apple Bloom rolled their eyes and walked past the indignant pegasus.
“Why are we doin’ this?” Apple Bloom asked. “Ah’m not one to agree with miss prissy-horn about getting’ mah hooves dirty, but this seems gross.”
Sweetie Belle glared at her friend but stayed silent.
“You heard Heartthrob,” Scootaloo explained with a sigh, trotting quickly to regain the lead of the pack. “There’s some kind of lost treasure down here. We can dig it up and get our cutie marks in Archaeology.”
“I don’t know,” Sweetie complained. “It just doesn’t seem right to be stealing from those poor buffalos…”
“Hey!” Scootaloo shouted. “It’s not stealing! It’s excavating! We’re going to sell the treasure to a museum for other ponies to enjoy! Don’t you want to be famous archaeologists?”
The two fillies looked at each other nervously.
“Fine, ‘give’ to the museum, whatever!” Scootaloo exclaimed. “Look, either we do this and get archeology cutie marks, or I get my cutie mark in being rich. Is that what you want? For me to get a cutie mark for being a stuck up snob like Diamond Tiara and Silver Spoon?”
They shook their heads frantically.
“Besides, everything on this land belongs to me, right? That includes the treasure AND those bones. I can do whatever I want with them.”
“That seems pretty insensitive, Scoots,” Apple Bloom pointed out. “And kinda racist. You can’t own somepony else, even if they’re dead.”
Scootaloo sighed. “Just shut up and help me rob these graves.”
***
Spike sat up in bed, rubbing the sleep from his eyes and smacking his lips to air out the taste of morning breath. He looked around and realized he was back in his bedroom. He scrunched up his face and tried to remember how he’d gotten here. Last thing he could recall, they were watching the novela and only had a few episodes to go to the ending.
He groaned as he realized he’d fallen asleep just before the show’s climactic ending. At some point somepony, probably Big Macintosh, had carried him to his room and tucked him in. Hopefully somepony had managed to follow the story well enough without him that they could tell him how it ended. Fluttershy had seemed to be picking little bits of the language up.
He climbed out of bed without making it, seeing as he was on vacation, and walked to the suite’s swanky private bathroom to take care of his morning affairs.
Fully refreshed and minty of breath, Spike wandered through the cavernous manse in search of his friends. He wandered aimlessly, calling out to random ponies and checking doors as he went along. He searched fruitlessly until he decided to check the smoking room with the television.
The door creaked open ominously. Spike raised an eyebrow at that. It hadn’t creaked the day before.
“Anypony in here?” he called. He received no answer but the lights were on, so he went in anyway.
Spike walked towards the couch and found Rarity, her arms curled daintily under her head, snoring almost imperceptibly. He watched her sleep for a few moments so he could admire her beauty, a dopey smile on his face. He moved closer to her, intent on waking her gently, when something stopped him in his steps a mere hoof-length away from her.
Spike’s face scrunched up into a grimace. He sniffed deeply and stuck his tongue out.
“What smells like apricots?” he spat. He hated apricots.
Rarity’s eyes fluttered open and she smiled beautifully at Spike.
“Well, good morning,” she purred.
“Oh, uh,” Spike said with a blush. “Good morning, Rarity. Sorry, I just got up myself and thought maybe I’d ask you about breakfast. Did you sleep here all night?”
“Oh, dear, I seem to have,” she flushed coyly. “How embarrassing! Such an unladylike thing for me to do…”
She reached out and wrapped her arms around Spike, pulling him closer to her. She ran a hoof tenderly over the spines behind his head as she blew little hot breaths to ruffle his ear fins.
“Especially when I could have shared a bed with such a magnificent stallion,” she whispered.
Spike’s brain ground to a halt.
“Hu-wha huh, hooowhaza muh?” he asked.
Rarity giggled flirtatiously. “My my, Spikey, you are so cute when you’re flustered. What happened to the daring, forceful stallion who took me so roughly only a week ago?”
“Wait what!? I did what!? When did what!? I what!?” Spike tried to exclaim, but his throat seized and his face began to burn. All that came out was a long, keening croak like the sound of a wounded animal.
“Ooooooo,” she cooed. “I like this new, nervous persona… such a sexy game. I know it’s only morning, but why don’t we just call it a day and retire to the bedroom?”
She leaned in close and licked his ear roughly, accentuating the act with a gentle bite. “Now carry your betrothed to the bedchambers and ravish her,” she commanded.
The engine of Spike’s brain rattled pathetically and died.
A scream pierced the air, startling the two supposed lovers. Rarity released Spike and sat up anxiously. Spike jumped in fright and collapsed on the ground, his shaky legs unable to take the jarring movement. He regained his footing quickly and backed away, fearful that somepony might enter and believe they’d caught him in flagrante delicto.
The door flew open and Fluttershy dashed in, panting hard and sweating. Her face was flushed with fear and exertion. She slammed the door shut and held it closed with her back. Her eyes darted around the room and came to rest on Spike. She leapt forward and prostrated herself before him, wrapping her arms around his legs plaintively.
“Please! You must protect me! He has gone mad!” she shrieked.
Rarity scowled in fury and climbed off the couch. She walked over and pried Fluttershy’s hooves from Spike’s legs and tossed her aside roughly.
“Get away from him, you filthy, home wrecking bitch,” Rarity hissed venomously.
Fluttershy’s face fell in shame and shock, but a moment later her eyes fell upon Spike again and came alive with indignation and a small measure of pride.
“You are the one that is filthy!” Fluttershy declared. “We all know about your indiscretions, only a fool would not! The way you flaunt yourself about before every stallion with eyes and a wallet. You dare to call yourself a lady!?” Fluttershy spat on the ground angrily.
Spike had finally had enough.
“What the hell is going on here!?” he shouted at the top of his lungs, making the other two girls jump in fright at his suddenly harsh tone.
“That is what I wish to know,” came a third voice from the doorway.
Fluttershy and Rarity gasped as Big Macintosh strode into the room. He stomped his hooves dully on the plush red carpet and glared directly at the other three occupants.
“Come away from him, Rarity,” Big Mac commanded. “Cease this foolishness, you belong with me. Now come, we will pack your things and you will come away with me this night.”
“You wish that I should quit the house of my father to be with you?” Rarity laughed. It was not the kind, musical tinkling laughter that Spike loved; it was a cruel shriek of cold mirth. “With you? A lowly ranch-hoof!?”
Spike’s eyes went wide as the pieces fell together: Rarity had called her his betrothed. Fluttershy and Rarity were fighting. Big Macintosh had burst into the room and declared his intentions for Rarity, only to be called a lowly ranch-hoof.
They were acting out the final scenes of the novela. This, this very scene, was what the entire show had been leading up to: an explosive chamber scene where lies would be revealed and secrets would come home to roost. But why were they doing this?
He gasped as he recalled what he’d smelled as he entered the room: apricots.
Magic is a strange thing and Spike knew this better than even most unicorns. Living with Twilight Sparkle and working as her assistant for nearly all his life had given him a wide ranging and eclectic pool of knowledge.
One of the many factoids that he’d learned over the years: when ghosts possess somepony, it smells like apricots.
“Okay so they’re possessed,” Spike muttered. “Now what am I supposed to do about it?” Exorcism wasn’t an exact science, and every book Spike had ever seen on the subject agreed that every possession should be taken on a case by case basis.
“Maybe you need to let ‘em finish the story.”
“Hey, that’s a good idea, Apple Bloom, thanks,” Spike replied. He jumped and looked around nervously. “Wait, where are you?”
“Turn around,” Sweetie Belle answered.
Spike turned and saw the TV was now on. The screen showed the two fillies against a backdrop of static. Their hooves were pressed against the glass and their faces held sad expressions on their faces.
“What the…?”
“We did a bad thing, Spike, sorry,” Apple Bloom apologized. She hung her head and elbowed Sweetie to apologize too.
“Sorry,” she muttered. “We dug up the bones.”
“I’m not even going to ask why,” Spike sighed. “I’m just going to ask where Scootaloo is.”
“We don’t know,” they answered in unison.
“Okay, just hang tight while I deal with this,” he sighed as he pinched the bridge of his nose.
“A lowly ranch-hoof I may be today,” Big Mac growled, finally breaking the spell of the dramatic pause, “but come tomorrow I shall be your husband. Now come along!”
“Never!” Rarity declared with a stomp. “I am to be wed to Spike! He is a true gentlecolt, the kind that a lady of my standing deserves!”
“And what have I been to you all this time!?” Big Mac shouted. “What if not a perfect gentlecolt who saw to your every whim and desire!?”
Rarity sniffed haughtily and turned her muzzle up at him. “You? You’ve merely been an iron that I could use to stoke the fires of my passions, keeping them warm for one that was worthy to truly possess my heart and body. That is what you were for; no more and no less.”
Macintosh narrowed his eyes dangerously and moved forward with violent purpose.
Spike cursed himself for having fallen asleep the night before. If he’d been awake he might know where this was all heading. He had no idea what role Guapo had played in this exchange but he felt the need to intervene.
“Hold on, Big Macintosh, don’t do anything foolish,” Spike commanded as he held up his hand.
Big Mac glared down at him. “Stand aside, Spike. I may not like that you’ve taken Rarity to your bed, but I otherwise have no ill-will towards you. Let me take the mare that I love and I will never trouble you again.”
“Hah!” Fluttershy barked loudly. “Love? What do you know about it? You only care for Rarity because she treats you like trash! I told you that I loved you, pure and truly I did, but you spurned me. For what? For her? You don’t love her, I know you don’t. You only crave that abuse, that coldness, of hers because the sad truth is that you’re so filled with jealousy and anger over your own poverty that you can’t even love yourself.”
“Where does this backbone come from?” Big Mac spat. “Where is the timid mare who could be cowed into a stallion’s bed with a harsh look?”
“She is dead!” Fluttershy replied with a prideful flare of her wings. “She was killed by the kindness and affection of a real stallion. It was Spike, who showed me compassion and understanding like nopony has before! He taught me to love myself through his actions and words, and in turn I grew to love him! My love for you is dead, Big Macintosh! Now only Spike lives in my heart!”
“Whoa,” Spike muttered under his breath. He held his claw to his chest to still his heart. Possessed or not, it was weird to hear a mare, especially one as reserved and quiet as Fluttershy, confess love for him so forcefully.
Behind him the two girls in the TV had their noses pressed hard against the glass, their eyes wide at the unfolding drama.
“We should’ve stayed behind and finished the show, and I don’t just mean because of how we woke up all those ghosts,” Sweetie Belle commented. Apple Bloom nodded in agreement.
The door kicked open and Big Macintosh jumped out of the way in time to avoid being hit by it.
“Don Scootaloo!” he exclaimed.
Scootaloo stalked into the room dangerously, her eyes lidded heavily and scanning the room. She was wearing her late father’s mustache and a saddlebag over her back.
“Well this is where you were hiding, my little Fluttershy,” Scootaloo breathed menacingly.
Fluttershy’s courage faltered. Her face fell back into a mask of terror and shock. She moved behind Spike and cowered. “Protect me, please,” she whispered.
“Did I hear you correctly?” Scootaloo drawled out slowly. “You say you love him? I was upset to hear that you desired him, but to love him? And you, Spike? Come now, you can’t love one that is so filthy. So… used.”
Fluttershy found some of her courage again. “Of course he does not love me! I could never ask or expect him to accept a mare as lowly as myself. But I do love him and I shall quit this place at his side, and serve him for all of my days.”
“Fluttershy, don’t say that about yourself!” Spike shouted. He knew she was only playing the script but he felt compelled to answer. “I don’t care what your life to this point has been, but you mustn’t ever think of yourself as filthy! You’re anything but!”
Fluttershy blushed deeply and returned her gaze to the floor sheepishly.
“Fluttershy, return to my room,” Scootaloo commanded. “I will deal with you later.”
“She doesn’t have to go anywhere,” Spike answered impulsively. It just seemed like the thing Serious Guapo would have said in that situation.
“Enough of this,” Scootaloo declared with a snort. She crept further into the room, commanding the attention of everpony present despite her small size and voice. “The time to drop the charade is here, for I have tired of the games. I must tell you now, Spike, I did not truly invite you here to meet my daughter.”
“What!?” Rarity cried. “Father what do you mean!?”
Scootaloo stood on her back legs in the center of the room, shrugged off the bag, and held up a hoof to quiet Rarity.
“Silence,” she commanded. “You were merely the honey pot to lure this young fool to my home.”
“You used me!?” Rarity shrieked.
“I said silence!” Scootaloo roared, her tiny adolescent voice cracking in the effort. “You’ve served your purpose in this, my beloved daughter. Now…”
Scootaloo glared angrily at Spike. “I had hoped to do this more quietly, but it seems the time to draw the curtain is here.”
Scootaloo reached into the saddlebag and withdrew a large crossbow. It was nearly the size of her body but she held it confidently. A bolt was knocked and ready to fire. She leveled it at Spike.
Everypony in the room backed up nervously. Fluttershy stepped away from Spike hesitantly.
Spike’s jaw dropped. Scootaloo had a crossbow. And she was pointing it at him. She was pointing a crossbow at him.
“Don’t recognize it?” Scootaloo chuckled. “It recognizes you. It is yours after all.”
“Oh, dang!” Apple Bloom shouted from the TV. Sweetie Belle was biting at her hooves in suspense.
Spike’s eyes went wider as he realized where the crossbow had come from. During the tour Heartthrob had mentioned that one of Scootaloo’s ancestors had been a weapons designer from Epona. This had to have been an heirloom squirreled away in some dark corner of the massive home.
“Yes,” Scootaloo grinned. “I see you remember. This is the very gun you used to take my brother’s life.”
Big Mac, Rarity, the two trapped fillies, and Spike all gasped. Fluttershy remained silent, but fidgeting nervously as though struggling with herself.
“I heard all about it from the villagers,” Scootaloo grimaced. “How the two of you went to the top of that hill together but only you came down. How you shot him and pushed his body into the ravine. I went there and I recovered the weapon from the spot where you hid it. And now I will take your life with it.”
“Stop!” Fluttershy shouted, stepping forward. “It wasn’t Spike who murdered your brother!”
Scootaloo’s control slipped for just a moment as this revelation rocked her back physically.
“What!? Then who!?”
“Yeah, who!?” Sweetie Belle squealed.
Fluttershy’s eyes narrowed. “Surely you remember somepony in this house who has served here longer than any other.”
Scootaloo’s eyes went wide.
“That’s right,” Fluttershy smirked. “You’re hardly the first of your family to have coaxed me into bed.”
“You and my brother?” Scootaloo whispered, dropping the crossbow just a bit.
Big Mac made a lunge for the weapon but Scootaloo turned and pointed it at him. Macintosh lost his nerve and reversed his charge, backing into a bookcase and knocking several large volumes onto his head.
The sudden attack brought Scootaloo’s senses back.
“Why!?” she demanded.
“Because I wasn’t good enough for your brother,” Fluttershy declared. She raised a hoof gingerly to her stomach. “Me or the baby he put in me.”
They all gasped.
“That’s right,” she nodded with tears in her eyes. “He said he couldn’t afford to have a bastard sucking away at the family fortune. So he poisoned me, slowly, just enough to do away with the delicate life growing inside me.”
Fluttershy was now weeping openly. She sat on her haunches and held both hooves to her chest as she cried.
“I knew he had a meeting with a stallion from out of town,” she sobbed. “I followed them to their meeting place. They argued over some aspect of the deal and parted ways. Then once your brother was alone I confronted him.”
She looked up, her eyes bloodshot with sorrow and fury.
“He laughed,” she croaked. “Laughed and said it was his child, so he could do what he wanted with it, just like I was his. So I shot him.”
She cast a sidelong glance at Spike but clenched her jaw and looked away after only a moment.
“You were a stranger to me, and I meant for you to take the blame,” she whispered. “But now that I know how wonderful you are… I could never ask you to forgive what I attempted to do to you…”
She finally broke down into hysterics.
Scootaloo ground her teeth.
“You…?” she growled. “You all this time!? A viper in my own bed!?”
With a roar she turned the weapon on Fluttershy, who looked up from her breakdown in time to see Scootaloo’s face filled with absolute hatred. She closed her eyes and waited for the end as Scootaloo pulled the trigger.
“NO!” Spike roared. He leapt in front of Fluttershy with all the power he could muster. Time slowed down as everypony in the room watched in shock.
The projectile struck Spike in the chest with a thud.
The room filled with a ghostly moan and the walls rattled with the noise of a thousand stampeding hooves. The scent of apricots faded away. The room’s occupants collapsed and shook their heads to clear the confusion. Sweetie Belle and Apple Bloom tumbled out of the TV gracelessly.
“Spike!” Fluttershy shrieked, summoning everypony in the room to the fallen dragon’s side.
“I’m so sorry I’m so sorry I’m so sorry,” Scootaloo began chanting, tears falling from her eyes as she looked to where Spike lay motionless on the floor, the crossbow bolt sticking straight up in his chest.
He coughed loudly and grabbed the bolt with both claws. He yanked it hard, pulling it free from the cracked scale that it had failed to penetrate.
“That’s how it ends!? Guapo gets shot and fade to black!? That’s awful!”
***
“Let us never speak of the vacation again,” Spike declared.
“Agreed,” the rest of the group concurred as one.
The mid-morning sun beat down on the group of friends as they watched the haycienda burn to the ground. Big Mac was hitching himself to a large wagon just big enough to fit their luggage. The three crusaders were perched atop the pile of bags while the adults chose to walk the trek back to town.
“Are you sure this was the right thing to do?” Apple Bloom asked.
Scootaloo scoffed. “This place is cursed. My family was a bunch of idiots for buying it. Good riddance. Besides, I’ve still got my fabulous wealth. I can build an even better place back in Ponyville.”
She grinned and rubbed her hooves together greedily. “Let’s stop at the bank on the way home so I can withdraw my fortune. Train ride’s on me.”
“How much do you have anyway?” Sweetie Belle asked.
“Five million neighsos!”
Spike blinked. “Wait, that’s the fortune?”
“Yeah! But don’t worry, you don’t have to treat me any different, I’m just like everypony else,” she said.
“But that’s not taking into account the exchange rate,” Spike countered. He raised a claw and started doing some quick math in his head. “The economies are very different. That comes out to like fifty bits. I’ve got more than that in my bags.”
“Yeah, me too,” Sweetie Belle said.
“And me,” Apple Bloom added.
Scootaloo looked down at the adults who all nodded.
“NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!” she screamed as Big Mac began pulling the wagon.
Spike shook his head and sighed as Scootaloo began to wail sadly. He felt a slight nudge from behind as he started walking and turned to find Fluttershy keeping pace with him.
“Um…” she started nervously. “I’m really sorry about everything that happened… but you were amazing to have kept a cool head like that…”
“Hey, you’re my friends,” Spike smiled. “I did what I had to do.”
Fluttershy blushed in admiration.
“How did you know your scales were arrow proof?” she asked finally, he eyes drifting to the bandage covering the spot where his cracked scale had fallen off.
“I didn’t,” he answered without breaking stride.
Fluttershy stopped in her tracks and stared. Spike stopped to look back at her.
“B-but,” she stammered. “You jumped in front of that arrow for me! You could have died!”
He smiled. “I wasn’t going to let you take that shot, Fluttershy. A big strong boy like me wasn’t about to let a cute, defenseless girl like you get hurt.”
Fluttershy hid behind her hair. She had forgotten about teasing Spike and Big Mac like that the day before.
Spike chuckled and continued walking, Fluttershy rushing to catch up after a few moments. He looked towards Rarity and Big Mac, standing side by side as he and Fluttershy were. They were chatting away happily, heedless of the three girls having a quiet argument atop the cart.
Spike and Fluttershy walked in comfortable silence for a while, until Fluttershy decided to voice something that she had been holding in.
"I felt so bad for her..." Fluttershy said.
"Who?" Spike asked.
"Azucar..." Fluttershy sighed. "You know, when I was possessed, she wasn't just a character to me. I knew her. She was real."
Spike blinked. "How do you mean?"
"Well," she started. "I knew things about her. She had a whole life that was never discussed in the show. I had all of that in my head."
"So the ghosts constructed a whole backstory and put it into your brain? For what?"
"I don't know necessarily that it was them," Fluttershy answered after a moment of thought. "I feel like maybe some of it came from me, how I saw the character... and maybe a bit how I saw myself... I do know that if life had been a little less kind to me, I could have easily found myself in Azucar's place..."
He hadn’t noticed at the time, but the characters in the novela had indeed seemed to be grossly extreme caricatures of his friends.
Scootaloo had certainly let the fact that she’d inherited such a large estate go to her head. And of the three friends she was definitely the most self-centered of the group. The fact that she’d believed it would be okay to dig up the graves beneath the haycienda proved that much. In the end the Don's single minded selfishness had wounded his precious daughter: the only pony he could have been said to still care for.
The other two fillies had been led around by the noses by the little pegasus this whole trip. They’d stood by while Scootaloo plotted to disturb the spirits under the haycienda, despite knowing it was the wrong thing to do. They’d merely been spectators to the thing. Even though they hadn't had their memories altered, there had been a bit of poetry in their punishment that couldn't have escaped them.
Big Macintosh’s farm was successful, but did occasionally struggle depending on demand for their product. Spike could easily see him resenting his occasional hardships. And perhaps, like Mas Macho, Big Macintosh wished for something in life other than being a farmer; even if that desire may have been hidden so deep inside him he might not even recognize it himself.
Rarity was the kindest, most beautiful, most generous pony Spike had ever met… but she could also be aloof, smug, careless with the feelings of others, and prone to taking advantage of those that cared most about her. She of course always made amends, but none the less, those were occasional failings of hers.
And Fluttershy… the poor mare with self esteem issues. Nopony that knew her would doubt her inner strength; nopony except herself. Much like Fluttershy, Azucar Morena’s greatest flaw was her inability to say no; to just stand up for herself. The pressure of that frustration had built up for her in an explosively violent fashion. Fluttershy’s own freak outs were as legendary as anypony’s he knew, though perhaps not nearly so deadly as Azucar’s.
As for Spike himself… he had been left untouched for some reason. Perhaps being a dragon meant he was immune to possession. Maybe the spirits had simply wanted him to participate on his own terms as some sort of meta-punishment that he couldn’t fathom with his mortal perspective.
Did the others have similar experiences and false memories? Were they just not talking about it because they'd been shaken by the strange glimpse into their own perceptions of themselves?
Whatever the case may have been, things had worked out and everypony was getting home safely.
“Um,” Fluttershy muttered. “Um, I was thinking… when we get home to Ponyville…”
Spike leaned closer as her sentence trailed off. “What’d you say? You kind of faded away there.”
She squeaked cutely and cleared her throat.
“I was asking if you… you wanted to… maybe go out… for dinner… like a date…”
Spike’s eyes widened and his jaw dropped.
“It’s okay if you don’t want to,” Fluttershy quickly explained. “I don’t want you to feel pressured. I know that… that you’d rather… maybe date somepony better…”
Her hair was still covering her face but Spike could see enough to notice the furtive glances at Rarity.
Spike sighed. He looked towards Rarity and thought about how, in the end, the simple charms of Azucar had won Guapo’s heart over the gorgeous Socorro Alacran. He had fallen so hard for her that he had given his life to protect her without hesitation.
Serious Guapo had fallen for Socorro at first sight, but only once he'd looked elsewhere had he found what he’d been looking for all along.
He cast his gaze down as they walked.
“Don’t say that about yourself, Fluttershy. You’re kind, you’re sweet, and you’re beautiful.” He looked towards Rarity one last time before he turned to face Fluttershy. “Who could be better than you? I’d love to try going on a date with you.”
Fluttershy stumbled but quickly righted herself. She ducked her head down and lifted Spike onto her back; partly so she could carry him, but mostly so he couldn’t see how happy his answer had made her.
Author's Note
Look at this big dumb Spanish thing I wrote! Title comes from the old Eric Estrada vehicle, "Dos Mujeres, Un Camino." It was like the biggest novela around when I was a kid. My grandpa from Mexico used to snatch the remote every night to make the whole family watch it. Alternate title is from the last of Thalia's three Maria-themed telenovelas.
Hopefully you all weren't too disturbed by the idea of Fluttershy being such a sex-doormat. I really tried to capture the feel of a telenovela/soap opera/Lifetime Original movie as best as I could. and those things can get pretty racy. Also, man, I wish there was just a Drama tag, because Tragedy and Sad just don't fit the tone of the story.
If you enjoyed this big dumb thing, check out my other story, War in the Pocket. I promise you it's even bigger and dumber.
Thanks for reading.
