The Unmitigated Hypocrisy
Rumble pushed a cloud up against another. He sent a spark of pegasus magic through them, and the two melded together into a single cloud. He flapped a few wing lengths back and surveyed his work.
He mused that it was nearly a metaphor, but it lacked a certain something.
He turned to the grinning, bucktoothed face of Featherweight. The clouds that the skinny young stallion had been assigned to tend floated untouched some distance away. The breeze blew through a stray sprig of Featherweight’s mane.
Rumble crossed his muscular forelegs. He gave a light scowl. “You said what?”
Featherweight nodded.
Rumble tilted his head, his scowl deepening. “And she said what!?”
“She said ‘yes!’” Featherweight did a loop-de-loop. “I asked Princess Twilight Sparkle out to dinner and she said ‘yes!’”
Rumble held out a hoof. He choked as he tried to spit out words. “Are—are you a changeling? Because that’s the only explanation I can come up with.”
Featherweight smoothed back his cowlick. “Maybe I’m more charming and suave than you give me credit for.”
“But… but…” The edges of Rumble’s lips sunk midway down his chin. “But why? But how!?”
Featherweight polished his hoof on his chest. “Well, after I pulled her out of that fire—”
“And kissed her, almost resulting in a harassment lawsuit,” Rumble said.
“She totally dropped the charges.” Featherweight waved his hoof. “After that, I asked her if she would be willing to go out for dinner.”
“Great segue.” Rumble pushed his larger, darker cloud around the sky. “Did you mention that you’d be at the dinner, too?”
“Laugh all you want,” Featherweight chuckled. “You’re not the one who’s got a date with the princess!”
Rumble shook his head. “This is crazy. This is nuts. Do you know what you’re getting yourself into?”
“The Silver Spoon.” Featherweight fluttered over to his clouds and started bucking. “Only the swankiest restaurant in Ponyville.”
Rumble set foot on his cloud. “How can you afford that place on a Weatherpony’s budget? Not that it’s your biggest problem.”
“Eh, I’ve been saving up.” Featherweight grouped a bundle of clouds together in one corner of the sky. “I’d just been looking for the right opportunity to ask, and it sort of dropped right into my lap.”
“In the form of a freak fire.” Rumble rolled his eyes. “It must be fate.”
“S’what I’m saying.” Featherweight kicked out with his toothpick-thin legs and eliminated the cloud bundle. “Everything lines right up.”
He threw Rumble a salute and soared off. “I gotta get ready, can you handle that one by yourself?”
Rumble looked down. The cloud had built up a considerable charge of static. “Yeah, go ahead, buddy.”
He kicked the cloud, and a thunderbolt shot out. It struck the ground and obliterated a patch of pansies. He grimaced. “Okay, now it’s a metaphor.”
Spike the Dragon hefted a pile of books that towered as high as he did. It wasn’t as impressive as it sounded, since Spike barely reached Big Mac’s chin, but darned if the books weren’t heavy. His muscles bulged as he set the pile carefully besides the shelves.
He looked at Twilight Sparkle, the Princess of Friendship, and scrunched his face up.
“Whoa-ho, wait, wait, wait.” Spike waved his claws in front of his face. “He said what?”
Twilight didn’t turn away from the book she was shelving. “Uh huh.”
“And—” Spike sputtered. “And you said what!?”
“Yah huh.” Another book settled into place. Then another, then another.
“That’s…” Spike shuddered. “That’s not creepy at all.”
That got Twilight to pause. “Why should it be creepy?”
“He’s—what?—seven, eight years younger than you?” Spike shrugged. “Give or take?”
Twilight pursed her lips. “Hypocrisy is unbecoming of a firefighter.”
“Go ahead and bring up Rarity, but that was a different situation entirely.” Spike lifted a claw, his mouth open. “And I’m sure I can think up a good reason why if you give me a couple hours.”
Twilight walked up to him and placed her hoof against his cheek. “It’s just dinner, Spike. To thank him for saving my life. It’s the least I can do.”
“You already dropped the harassment charges,” Spike grumbled.
Twilight cleared her throat. “Okay, second least I can do.” She walked back to the shelves. “Besides, you always say I need to get out more.”
“Not with Featherweight!” Spike slapped his palm against his forehead. “This is just weird.”
Twilight Sparkle shrugged. “It doesn’t have to be weird. I’m just going out to eat, and a colt just so happens to be paying.”
“Yeah, a colt.” Spike fiddled with the scales on his tail. “Maybe that’s where I see a problem. He’s—what?—sixteen, seventeen? And you’re”—he paused as Twilight sent him a spark of flame out of the corner of her eye—“ageing more gracefully than Princess Celestia.”
“Thank you,” she said. “Thank you for looking out for me. But I’ll be fine.”
Spike tapped his claws together. “Are you sure you’re doing this for the right reasons? Not just because Flash Sentry—”
“Mister Sentry,” Twilight hissed, “and who he makes out with in broad daylight are his own business!”
“I’m sure Trixie didn’t mean to hurt you,” Spike said as the headline “Magician Outperforms Princess in Battle for Soldier’s Heart!” burned through his mind. He tapped his claw-tips together.
“Yeah, I know. We talked. She’s sorry.” Twilight blew a breath through her lips. “Whatever. This isn’t about Mister Sentry. It’s about thanking the colt that saved my life.” She smiled. “And having a little fun while I’m at it. Is that okay?”
Spike sighed. He wrapped his arms around Twilight’s neck and hugged her close. “Maybe,” he said.
Then again, he thought, maybe not.
“Show me your gallop!” Spike shouted. “Come on! We need to get to the fire now!”
The day’s fahr—ahem—fire drills were proceeding well enough. After their first run-in with a blazing cloudhouse, the colts had gotten a bit more enthusiastic about actually knowing what the heck they were supposed to do.
In fact, several colts neared their graduation to full volunteer firefighters, the closest of which was Rumble. Chief Macintosh assigned Spike to give him a more hooves-on training session, and it was going pretty well so far.
At the very least, Rumble knew how to spray the water in the correct direction now.
Rumble took a gulp of water from his canteen and poured the rest over his head. He gave his mane a shake and turned to Spike. “So, have you heard about the princess’ date?”
“Oh yes.” Spike gritted his teeth. “You’ll have to forgive me. I’m not real enthusiastic about it.”
Rumble fanned himself with his wings. “No?”
“It’s just kinda bizarre.” Spike held his hands out to the left. “I mean, it’s Twilight…” He moved his hands to the right. “And Featherweight…” He brought them to the middle. “And never the twain should meet.”
“Yeah, it’s kinda freaky.” Rumble stretched his wings out. “Don’t know what’s freakier, though; that Feathers thought he had a chance, or that the princess gave him a chance.”
“It’s like some big, cosmic joke,” Spike said. He raised himself onto his hind legs and reached for the sky. “Like the Creator nudged a star and said ‘Hay, wouldn’t it be funny if…’”
Rumble shook his head. “It’s just wrong, man. Just wrong.”
They sat down in the grass of the park and watched the other colts drill. Featherweight especially was giving his all.
“Say,” Rumble said, his eyes distant, “what if it works out?”
Spike blinked. “What?”
“I mean—and this is nutty, I know—but what if it works out well enough that they want to do it again?”
Spike shivered. “Don’t even joke about that.”
“Dude, what if I’m not joking?” Rumble pointed to Featherweight. “What if they get together? What if they start dating?”
Spike stood on four legs and glared at Rumble. “Quit. Not funny. That’s too impossibly stupid to even consider.”
“So is a date between them.” Rumble shrugged. “Stranger things have happened.”
“Nooo, don’t you pull the ‘Stranger Things’ card!” Spike reared up on his hind legs and crossed his arms. “I’ve seen ‘Stranger Things,’ and they usually suck. The stranger the suckier.”
Rumble flapped into the air until he was a head higher than Spike. He crossed his own forelegs and flexed his muscles. “I’m just saying, this is just scary enough to be possible.”
“So improbable it’s probable?” Spike narrowed his eyes. “Baffling enough to make perfect sense?”
Rumble raised an eyebrow. “Something like that.” He looked to the side, where Chief Macintosh was trying to get the spaced-out Snails’ attention. “Doesn’t she have a thing with that Royal Guard?”
Spike snorted. “Flash and Twilight have had an on-again-off-again relationship for the past five years. They’re really ‘off again’ this time. I don’t think she’s too concerned with him at the moment.”
Rumble bit his bottom lip. “Maybe we should do something about this.”
Spike’s posture stiffened. “Prevent this unmitigated disaster before it happens?”
Rumble settled down on the ground. “Any ideas?”
“We could sneak along on the date.” Spike touched a claw to his chin. “If things start to get steamy, we could enact some sort of distraction.”
“Break the mood?”
“At the least.”
“I’m game.”
“Good.”
Spike grinned mischievously. He had the sudden urge to twirl a moustache.
“Oh, crud,” he said. He sat down hard. “Are we really plotting to ruin our friends’ date?”
Rumble’s eyes went wide. “Oh man.” He, too, sat down hard. “Have we really sunk that low?”
They sat in silence for exactly two minutes.
Spike wrung his hands together. “Still, it’s for their own good.”
“Maybe even for the good of Equestria.” Rumble flicked an ear. “She is a princess, after all.”
“Maybe we don’t need to interfere,” Spike said. “Maybe we just need to keep an eye on them.”
“That’s what friends do, right?” Rumble said. “Look out for each other?”
“Absolutely.” Spike stood and made his way to the rest of the firefighter hopefuls. “I’ll meet you outside the library’s back door. Five-oh-five, just after they leave.”
Spike stopped. He looked back over his shoulder. “A word to the wise: If we get caught, Twilight will likely turn me into a cactus and you into an orange.”
Rumble swallowed hard. He waited until Spike had gotten some distance away before whispering to himself, “I don’t look good in orange.”
Twilight Sparkle dressed up in a conservative, butter-yellow dress. Yes, that butter-yellow dress. She spun around, letting the hem flow around her ankles. “Good enough for The Silver Spoon?”
Spike walked over to her on four legs. He sat up and stroked his chin. “I think you’re good enough for just about anything, Twilight.”
“Aren’t you sweet?” Twilight glanced at her wings and made sure there weren’t any stray feathers. “He ought to be here in a couple minutes.”
Spike glanced out the window. He could see Featherweight standing across the street, his eyes glued to the town’s clock tower. “He strikes me as a punctual kinda guy,” he said.
A flash of gray outside the kitchen door’s window told Spike that Rumble had arrived. Spike slid into the hallway that lay between the library proper and the kitchen nook. “So, have you ever been to The Silver Spoon before?”
“Just once, for Rarity’s birthday.” Twilight snickered. “I think the six of us drove the poor maître d’ crazy.”
Spike frowned. “Huh. Where was I?”
Twilight tapped her cheek. “Oh! You’d gone to Canterlot to talk with Celestia about the new Chronicler. Shards, or something?”
“Shardscale. Yeah.” Spike smiled. “Princess Celestia didn’t know the best sort of gems to serve a dragon.” He snapped his fingers. “I just so happen to be an expert on that.”
“Oh, the thousand-year-old princess didn’t know anything about dragons, huh?” Twilight smirked. “I think Celestia was trying to set you up.”
“Set me up?” Spike said. “For what?”
“Set you up.” Twilight nudged his side. “I mean, you’re a dragon, Shardscale’s a lady dragon…”
“Wha—” Spike held out his claws. “She’s at least a hundred years older than me!”
“There’s that hypocrisy again,” Twilight said behind a silly grin. “Tisk, tisk.”
A knock came from the front door. Twilight straightened up, smoothed down her dress, and extended her wings in a regal manner. “I’m very proud of you, Spike. Don’t forget that.”
Spike’s ears drooped. He grinned as best he could. “I’m proud of you, too, Twilight. Just…” He scuffed a foot on the floor. “Have some fun tonight, okay?”
Twilight nodded and made her way to the door. She opened it with a smile. “Hello, Featherweight! How are you?”
Featherweight had borrowed a tuxedo from his father, Bulk “Snowflake” Biceps. As such, droves of black fabric hung off of his skinny legs and neck. He tugged at his loose collar. “Good, good. Great, actually. Well, I would be if my knees would stop knocking, but that’s the name of the game, I guess.”
Twilight gave him a rueful smile. “It’ll be fine. Shall we?”
Featherweight nodded rapidly, took her foreleg in his, and led her to Downtown Ponyville.
Spike waved at them until they were out of sight. He sighed. “Yah had to go and make me feel bad, didn’t you, Twilight?”
He opened the back door and let Rumble in. The charcoal-maned stallion bowed his head as he entered, as if he expected random princesses to jump out of the shadows. “They’re on their way?”
“Yeah.” Spike gripped his tail. “Hay, if we don’t have to interfere, let’s really not. Like, I dunno, let’s just watch and let what may happen, happen.”
Rumble poked Spike in the chest. “You getting cold-blooded feet?”
“I’m getting a conscience!” Spike grumbled. “How would you feel if you got spied on during one of your dates?”
“I’d probably sock the guy who did it in the jaw.” Rumble blinked. “Um, but only if I caught him.”
Spike rolled his shoulders. “Besides, she doesn’t consider it a date. She just wants to thank Featherweight for saving her life.”
“That’s practically a play-by-play setup for a dumb romantic comedy!” Rumble took to the air. “I don’t care if you go, but I’m outta here.”
Spike watched him go, a scowl on his face. His eyes widened and he ran out the door. “Wait, wait! This is totally the other half of a rom-com setup!”
“I swear I don’t know how I get into these situations,” Spike said.
“That would require a little self-awareness,” Rumble replied.
Spike peered through the hedges that surrounded The Silver Spoon’s outdoor dining area. He could see the maître d’ arguing with a gray-coated, silvery-maned mare. She stood next to a stallion of similar coloring, who seemed much older than her.
Rumble poked his head through the hedges beside Spike. “That’ll be Silver Spoon at The Silver Spoon. Her dad, too, looks like. He’s the owner.”
Spike lifted a brow. “He named the restaurant after his daughter?”
Rumble shook his head. “The name runs in the family, just like the restaurant.”
Spike’s nose twitched. “So he’s Silver Spoon Sr.?”
Rumble nodded.
“And she’s Silver Spoon Jr.?”
“She prefers Silver Spoon the Fifteenth.” Rumble chuckled. “When she deigns to grace the little people with her presence.”
“What a marvelous lady,” Spike said. He pursed his scaly lips. “I kinda wish I knew what they were arguing about.”
Rumble produced a pair of tiny binoculars out of nowhere. “I can read lips a little bit. Hold on a sec.”
He narrowed in on Silver Spoon herself. “‘There… is a princess in my restaurant,’” he decoded hesitantly, “‘and if she doesn’t have the best night ever I will tear out your—’ Um…” Rumble looked up from his binoculars, his eyes hollow. “Um, wow. I fear for that stallion’s life. And job, but mostly his life.”
A giggle was heard on the far side of the restaurant. Spike followed it, and frowned when he saw the source. “There they are.”
Rumble gazed through his binoculars and gasped. “Dang! She’s laughing at Featherweight’s jokes, man! Featherweight’s jokes!” He turned to Spike with the look of a pony that had seen death. “It’s happened! The rom-com has reached critical mass!”
“Shut up.” Spike placed a hand on Rumble’s head and pushed him back into the hedge. “She’s just having a good time.”
“This is serious!” Rumble gasped. “Why aren’t you taking this seriously?”
Spike grabbed the pegasus’ binoculars away. “It’s kinda hard to do when I’m in a hedge spying on my friend’s date with a colt that can’t stop talking about romantic comedies!”
“Who’s there!?”
Spike and Rumble froze. A waiter had wandered up to the hedge and heard the goings-on. “Come out this instant! You’re trespassing!”
Spike eased himself back. “If we sneak out, we can get away before they—”
Rumble jumped back. His butt contacted Spike’s belly and knocked the wind out of him.
Coincidentally, a dragon’s wind comes out pretty hot.
The two of them gasped as the hedge above them caught fire. Rumble extended his wings to fly away, but Spike pushed him out of the hedge. “What, do you wanna fan the flames, dipstick!?”
“I’m a dipstick!?” Rumble shouted. “You’re the one who breathed fire on the bush!”
“It’s a hedge!” Spike shouted back.
The ding-ding-ding of the fire bell could be heard throughout Ponyville. Silver Spoon’s scream of horror could be heard in Canterlot. The other, more feminine Silver Spoon’s screech of rage could be heard all the way in Saddle Arabia.
The defeated whimper of the maître d’ didn’t rise above the crackle of the flames.
And so the hedge burned. Rumble and Spike’s faces also burned, but with fewer flames and more rushing blood.
Featherweight pulled a camera out of his pocket as he was ushered out of the restaurant. He attached the zoom lens so that he could see the fire team putting out the hedges. It was the real volunteer fire team this time. Big Mac led the way as though he was a mighty general at the head of an army.
Or, you know, like a fire chief. Same difference.
The camera flashed.
Featherweight thought he saw Rumble fighting the fire, but his attention was stolen by the lavender beauty beside him.
“Well,” Princess Twilight Sparkle said, “that was short-lived.”
“We didn’t even get to eat,” Featherweight mumbled. He looked up at the princess, who was still about three times his body mass. “You… wouldn’t mind stopping by Hayburger, would you?”
Twilight smiled. “No, I’d like that.”
Spike and Rumble shuffled their feet. Their heads were bowed as they sat within the office of the Lord Mayor of Ponyville, facing judgment.
“What kinda horseapples is this?” Applejack said. She pushed aside a tower of paperwork and glared at the stallion and the drake. “What are you two doin’ here?”
Silver Spoon and Silver Spoon stood behind them. The female Spoon stepped forward. “These two were caught setting fire to my daddy’s restaurant! Punish them, Your Lordship!”
“We tried to stop it from spreading,” Spike muttered. “I don’t think you’ve watered those hedges in months.”
“Those hedges were well watered!” said Silver Spoon the Younger. “With water from wells!”
“Okay, start from the beginnin’,” Lord Mayor Applejack said. “Where’d this start?”
Rumble’s entire body managed to grimace all at once. “The very beginning?”
Applejack nodded.
“So, um, Featherweight and Twilight were on a date at The Silver Spoon—”
“Wha—wait.” Applejack help up a hoof. “Twilight as in Princess Twilight?”
Rumble nodded.
“An’ Featherweight as in…” She waved a hoof around as she searched for words. “There’s only one Featherweight, isn’t there?”
Spike nodded.
“It’s obviously a conspiracy, Your Lordship,” the Silver Spoon that was a girl said. “They worked together to discredit our business!”
“Hush, you.” Applejack leaned across the table, her muzzle scrunching up. “How the hay’d he land a gal like Twilight?”
Spike blew a breath through his lips. “He saved her life. When Rainbow”—he gritted his teeth—“when Rainbow Dash’s cloudhouse burnt down?”
Applejack pushed her hat further up on her head. “Ah didn’t know it was that close.”
“Totally was,” Rumble said. “Anyway, Spike and I—”
“It was mostly my idea,” Spike said.
Rumble looked at him, the corners of his mouth turned downward. “Spike and I wanted to follow them to make sure… um…”
“That nothing bad happened,” Spike said. “So… so we hid in the hedges and spied on them.”
Applejack rolled her eyes. “Of all the foolhardy things ah’ve seen a colt do…” She shook her head. “Whatever. Then sommat happened an’ Spike spat a spatter of fire?”
Spike and Rumble nodded mutely.
Applejack looked at the Silver Spoons. “Look, ah kinda figured that the town’s newest firefighter hadn’t committed arson on purpose. But the fact remains that he got yer restaurant all fired up.” She brought her hooves together. “How’s about these two hooligans pay fer the repairs? New hedge, no cost.”
Silver Spoon the Fifteenth sneered. “Plus extra for the lost business.”
Applejack shrugged. “Fair’s fair.” She turned back to the colt and the dragon. “Ah’m gonna have to talk with mah brother ’bout how this affects you two’s status with the fire department.”
Spike and Rumble nodded mutely. Again.
The Silver Spoons left. Spike stood and stretched as Applejack rounded her desk. She put a hoof on his shoulder and sighed. “What got into you tonight, Spike? Ah didn’t expect this from you.”
Spike thought. He dug through his mind like a diamond dog through a barren desert. He looked up with a sniff. “I thought Twilight was making a mistake. I wanted to be there to help her.”
Applejack smiled softly. “You’re the noble dragon without even tryin’.” She looked at Rumble. “What about you?”
“I thought Featherweight was being stupid,” he said. He blinked and shook his head. “I dunno. I thought it was weird, and I wanted him to see that. I guess I was just being selfish.”
Applejack sat on her desk. “Look, ah know ah can’t condone what y’all did here tonight, but ah can kinda understand it.” She scrunched up her muzzle. “Ah know ah’m gonna have words with Twilight about this colt.”
She settled her hat to a more comfortable position on her head. “But ah know she’s a big girl, an’ can make decisions on her own. Maybe you ought to give her a lil’ space, Spike.”
She turned to Rumble. “As fer you, ah hope you learned a lesson here.”
Rumble nodded. “Hiding in the bushes only ends in tears.”
“Hedges,” Spike said.
“Whatever.” Rumble tapped his chair’s armrest. “Maybe I should have had a more open mind about Featherweight’s… dinner thing. Tried to see it from his angle. I know he didn’t mean for it to be weird.”
Applejack raised an eyebrow. “Ah guess that’s a lesson.”
Rumble held his forelegs out. “What do you want from me? A Friendship Report?”
Applejack chuckled. “Naw, but maybe Spike wants to write in Twilight’s diary.”
“If it’s all the same to you, Applejack,” Spike said, “I’d rather keep tonight on the down-low.”
Spike sniffed the fresh morning air and tried to ignore the mild whiff of smoldering hedge. He bent down and picked up the morning paper, unrolling it as he sat on his haunches.
The headline prompted a lowering of both his eyebrows: “Mysterious Arsonist Destroys The Silver Spoon Restaurant!”
Though he could appreciate the tagline: “Lord Mayor and Spoons refuse to name ponies! Is there a connection between this fire and the one that consumed Rainbow Dash’s cloudhouse?”
Twilight read the headlines over his shoulder. “Is that your tail in the picture? I didn’t think you were on call.”
Spike examined the photograph, credited to “Freelance Photographer Featherweight.” Sure enough, that was the tip of his tail poking out of the left side of the frame.
Spike folded up the paper. “No, I wasn’t on call. I was…” He tucked the paper under his arm. “I was in the neighborhood.”
Twilight sighed through her nose. “You followed me, didn’t you?”
Spike wrung his hands together. “I just wanted to make sure you were alright.”
“I was, Spike.” Twilight rested her chin on Spike’s broad shoulder. “It’s just like I told you. I thanked him. We had fun.”
“Okay,” Spike said. “Okay, I’m glad dinner went well. Even though the restaurant hedges burnt down.”
“Nothing is perfect.” She grinned. “Featherweight was kinda cute, you know.”
Spike started. He squinted at the princess. “Now you’re just teasing me, aren’t you?”
Twilight sauntered away with a slight sway to her hips. “Maaaybe…”
Rumble bucked a cloud. “There’s one leaf on the hedge.”
Rumble coaxed a spray of rain out of the next. “There’s another leaf on the hedge.”
He kicked the third, and lightning shot forth. “Aaand there’s the next leaf.”
Rumble looked out over the mostly-clear sky. “Only a billion more to go. Yay.”
Featherweight flew up to him and placed a hoof on his shoulder. “What’s up, Rumble?”
“Ah.” Rumble rolled his muscled shoulders. “Got a debt to pay. It’s gonna take a while.”
“Rough.” Featherweight started to fly away, paused, and then turned back to Rumble. “Hay, I just wanted to say…”
Rumble turned to him, his eyebrows low and his mouth a thin line.
“Well…” Featherweight shrugged. “You were probably right. I mean, I wouldn’t take last night back for anything, but…” He dipped in the air a bit. “Well, when I asked if she wanted to go out next week…”
Featherweight crossed his twig-like forelegs. “She said ‘no.’” He looked to the side. “Well, more like she said ‘Not right now.’ That neither of us are ready for anything like this.” He smoothed down his cowlick. “I guess you were right about me being in over my head. Heck, I knew I was, but I tried anyway.”
Rumble put a hoof on Featherweight’s shoulder. Featherweight’s wings missed a beat, and he faltered in the air. He met Rumble’s eyes with a small frown.
“Hay,” Rumble said, “you gave it your best shot, right? That’s gotta count for something.” He smiled. “Besides, she only said ‘Not right now,’ right?”
A smile spread across Featherweight’s face. “Yeah. Yeah, I guess you’re right.” He smirked. “Heh. Maybe I’ll try again next month.”
Rumble blinked. “You’re joking, right?”
Featherweight chuckled as he flew to his corner of the sky. “Maaaybe…”
Spike nodded to Chief Macintosh, who returned to bucking apples. He walked through the trees of Sweet Apple Acres until he reached the little lake the Apples had on their property. He sat down beside Rumble and stared into the water.
Rumble looked up at him. “So what’d the chief say?”
“Suspension,” Spike said. “I can’t blame him. At least I’ll be back on the team soon.”
“Yeah.” Rumble stretched his wings out. “We kinda goofed last night, huh?”
“Totally.” Spike plucked a sprig of mint and chewed on it. “It could have been worse, though.”
“Right?” Rumble followed suit with his own mint sprig. “At least it didn’t turn out to be a unmigrated disaster.”
“Unmitigated.”
“Whatever.”
Author's Note
I'd say that this was probably the first story to ship Twilight and Featherweight, if I hadn't already written the first. Even then, this is just crazy enough to have already been done a million times.
But then, this was hardly a shipfic, was it?
