The Day that Life Spiked my Punch

by rathgood

Rating: teen
Tags: Slice of Life, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Alternate Universe, Human, Other, Spike, Comedy
Length: 24742

Throw 1 late 20's help desk manager together with a tweenage dragon turned human. Shake till mixed

Drew was a simple man. He had a house; he tried to impress women; and he worked a thankless job at a local college's help desk. He was content in his life (not really), but had settled into the daily routine. That all changes one night when he stumbled upon a boy in a dragon costume. Who is this strange boy with green hair that believes in magic, talking horses, and that dragons exist (and he is one)?

What do you get when a disenfranchised Help Desk manager in his late 20's suddenly finds himself having to take care of an 11-12 year old boy that swears he's a dragon? Join us and find out.

**************NOTES**************
Readers Please let me know if you find any of the following issue so that I can fix them.
- typos
- inconsistencies with characterization
- inconsistencies with the writing style.

Published 2012-04-09 06:04:02 UTC
Last updated 2018-02-16 17:22:41 UTC

Chapter 1: The Boy in the Dragon Costume

Chapter 1: The Boy in the Dragon Costume.

"Night sport", I intoned as the light switch was thrown, bathing the room in the pale glow of the harvest moon, just barely visible over the trees and houses outside the window.

"Night Drew." came the response; the weariness in it making it sound deeper than the teen's normal voice.

Closing the door, I sigh a little. Even after a year this still feels weird and now with the paper work all signed, he's my official ward., which only makes it feel weirder. Now before you say it, no I am not rich enough, nor traumatized enough to make my ward dress up in a bird suit and fight crime together. Besides, the poor guy has been through enough already. The next thing you might wonder is how a guy in their late 20's has, what's basically a Kid. One he didn't have a year ago. Ex-girlfriend or ex-wife would be the obvious conclusion. Next would be adoption, which was technically the case here, but the truth of the matter is far less mundane and very very odd.

It all started about a year ago on Halloween night.

"Why the hell am I out here at a quarter to midnight"

I ask to no one in particular. Mainly because i'm the only person on this god forsaken street. Why was I out here anyways? Oh right, the bloody neighbor hood watch I joined a year ago to impress that cute chick down the street. The same one who moved away three months later. Serves me right eh? Now I'm out here in the cold all because I drew the short straw and have to monitor the street for sugar crazed youths wrecking havoc. So far I've found a sum total of zero, zip, nada, zilch, nothing. Boring as hell, just walking, shining my flash light left to right, right to left, like a clockwork monkey.

"Feh, close enough to midnight, no ones gonna blame me for heading back."

Turning back towards my house I catch a bright purplish flash out of the corner of my eye and hear a resounding thunk, like something or someone hitting the ground. Of course, just as I head back something happens. Murphy's law in full effect. Probably just one of the brats from one of the near by streets messing around with some flashy firework. Still, I should check it out in case they hurt themselves in their stupidity. Walking towards the origin of the flash and noise I call out.

"Anyone there? I heard a noise and saw a flash, you all right?"

My only response is a small groan. Turning my light onto them, I see a kid laying face down in a purple and green dragon costume. Kneeling down, I gently turn the kid over and see that its a he and maybe 12 or 13 years old. Hmm, I don't recognize the face, not that I'm all to good with them mind you, but still. Looking up to me with groggy eyes he mumbles out.

"Man, I must have hit that Sweet Apple Acre's Cider a little to hard. I'm seeing things, like this big hairless ape."

Cider? Seeing things? Big hairless ape? Not only am I dealing with a tween, but now it looks like its a drunk tween. Great, just great. Well first things first, its not to far from my house, I'll get him there and out of the cold and work from there. Standing up I offer him a hand.

"Come on, lets get you off the ground and out of the cold."

Grabbing my hand he stands up and takes a step. Then promptly falls backwards. Thankfully I'm close enough to grab his shoulder and keep him from hitting the ground again. Last thing we need is head trauma.

"Whoa there, kid. Watch yourself, don't try and walk so fast when you either have a head injury or are drunk (or maybe both)". The last part mumbled under my breath.

"I'm not drunk, I can handle my cider fine. Also, I'm a dragon, simple falls don't hurt us at all." Tapping his costume. "Thick scales. Besides, I just lost my balance, that’s all."

Dragon? Great, its either the booze talking, a head injury, or I have a nut job on my hands. This night just keeps getting better and better. Taking a few shaky steps, nearly falling each time he reluctantly lets me guide him. Its not long until we get back to my house. I sit him down on the couch and call the local cops. Need to report in finding the kid and see if anyone’s missing him. A quick call later and I'm informed that no ones reported a missing child fitting my description yet. They said to take him to the local urgent care for an exam and an officer will meet me there to get a formal statement. Yay, looks like the night drags on! Rummaging around in one of my closets I pull out some cloths that should fit the kid. Sometimes its good to be a packrat, or just good to have forgetful cousins who leave their stuff when they visit. Setting them on the counter in the guest bathroom I yell to the kid.

"Hey Kid, just got off the phone with the cops, they want me to take you to the hospital to get a checkup, they'll meet us there. Now come over and change out of that costume of yours. If you need a clean change of cloths, I left some on the counter here that might fit."

"Costume? Oh right, I was at the Nightmare Night after party before this whole thing started. I'll just assume you're some magical creature and that I'm not hallucinating from something Pinkie put into the punch."

Nightmare night? Can't say I've heard Halloween called that before. Kids these days....

"Whatever kid, just come and get changed so I can get you to the doctor. Don't want to keep the cops waiting either."

And the sooner I get you there, the sooner you're there problem.

"Jeeze, you're almost as bossy as Twilight." comes the grumpy response. "Besides, names not 'Kid', its Spike!"

With a humph, the kid, I mean Spike closes the door to the bathroom. I myself head to the kitchen to get a heavily caffeinated beverage. I need it. Relaxing a little I prepare to take a sip, when, Murphy's law goes into effect and the kid starts screaming.

"Where’s my tail!? Where are my scales!? Why am I pink!? Why am I so hideous!?"

Face palming I rush to the bathroom door.

"Cool it ki, Spike. It's late and I don't want to bother the neighbors. Besides you're human just like me. We don't have tails or scales and pink is a common enough skin tone."

Throwing open the door he points at himself as if to emphasize his point. Not really caring about where he's going with this, I'm just happy he has pants on.

"No no, you don't understand. I'm a Dragon. I should have a tail. I should have purple and green scales."

"like you're costume then?"

"Yes! But not a costume, just myself!"

"So yer saying you wore a costume that looked exactly like how you say you should look? Why?"

"Its Nightmare Night. We wear costumes so that Nightmare Moon doesn't recognize us. I wanted to be a bigger dragon so I wore a dragon costume over my scales."

Well, I guess it's no stranger a reason then a person wearing one of those inflatable muscle suits. Still, he must have hit his head or something to believe he's a dragon.

"I get it, I get it. You were at a Halloween party"

"Nightmare Night"

"Whatever. You were at a party, hit your head or got wasted, fell down, until I found you and now think you're a dragon."

"I didn't hit my head or drink to much! And I don't think I'm a dragon, I AM A DRAGON!!" He yells. "Wait.... Nightmare Night....Princess Luna! She was there and she can control dreams. That’s it! This all a bad prank by Twilight and the rest of them. I'm actually asleep in my bed, snuggled under my blue blanket. I bet if I just follow where this goes they'll eventually grow tired and I'll wake up."

Content in his explanation, the kid finished dressing. Me? I knew for sure now that he needed a head scan. Princesses? Dream control? Right. If its not head trauma, then I rolled snake eyes and found a real winner. Checking my watch, its been about a half hour since this whole fiasco started. Hopefully its all over in another half hour. Smiling to myself I lead Spike to my car, and we're off to the hospital. He looked at the car with a little bit of awe.

"How does this move? It looks to small for a steam engine and I don't see a horn, so it can't be magic."

"Ummm, I don't know 100% of the engineering, but its a car. It used an internal combustion engine. Burns gas to move pistons to turn an axel to move the wheels to move the car."

That made sense right? Explaining things was never my forte. Looking at the kids face it looks like he was thinking about it, at least he was quite.

"That makes no sense, but what should I expect from a dream anyways? I just need to get through this and everything will be back to normal."

Sighing, I shrug my shoulders as best I can while still driving the car safely. Whatever. I turn on the radio for some music, anything to keep us occupied on the last 5-10 till the hospital. The first few notes play and I immediately groan, why'd it have to be Kate Perry? What bus full of puppies did I drown in a former life to garner this kind of karma? At least Spike is listening to the song.

"California girls? Where the hay is California? Its supposed to be Equestria girls! Why is this dream so weird!?" He yells "Come on Princess, Twilight let me wake up!"

Well, that was a smashing success. Way to go Drew, way to go. Sighing for the umpteenth time tonight I spy the hospital ahead. Finally sweet, sweet relief is in sight!

"Listen kid, we're almost there. Once we get out of the car, I'll take you in and hand you off to the nursing staff to give you a full checkup to make sure you're not injured. After that, I'll most likely have talked with the officer they sent to handle this. From there you'll most likely be taken to child services until they can find your family. Do you understand?"

Nodding his head in agreement he's either accepting that his fun is over or just believing in his dream theory. Either way is fine with me. Parking the car, we get out and in we go. I explain to the elderly nurse working the reception counter whats going on and she starts the paper work to get him checked in. Thankfully its rather quite for a Halloween night, not that I'll complain, and he's processed really quickly. An intern comes out to escort him into the exam area.

"Well Spike, its been interesting meeting you and if we don't see each other before you're taken to where ever, take care."

Patting him on the shoulder as I say that, I nod to the intern to go ahead and take him back. Spike remains silent. As they walk through the doors, I look around for the cop. Yawning a little, I decide to go get a cup of coffee first and find whatever officer pulled the short straw to handle this second. Its not that its late for me, but all of this has taken it out of me. Sipping the sludge they call free coffee I spy a familiar looking man in blue, so I go and see if he's the lucky winner. Now mind you I'm happy that an officer was there to hopefully take this kid off my hands, I'm rather unhappy on who they sent. You remember that woman down the street I mentioned earlier? Yeah, she was this mountain of a man's kid sister. One that did not seem to appreciate me helping her load the moving van. It was....awkward...That aside, he see me approaching so I decide to get the conversation over with.

"Good evening Officer Barton, is been a while since I last saw you. How's your sister doing?"

Glaring at me he responds. "That’s Sargent Barton now and she's fine. Now dispatch told me you found some kid passed out on the street near your place?"

"Yeah, I believe the doctor's looking him over now." I go over the events of the night with Sargent Barton (leaving out all of the dragon and dream nonsense to save both me and the kid some hell). He just nods and listens. "And that brings us back to now. So, any questions?"

"Nope, sounds like you did everything mostly right"

"Great, so will you be taking Spike or will someone from child services be coming by later to get him?" I say slightly eagerly.

Taking off his hat, the officer runs his hand through his hair. "Well, that’s the problem."

"Problem?"

"Yes. No ones available to come and get him tonight, budget cuts have forced us to reduce late night staffing. Add in the fact that we have neither a missing child report or any reason to transfer him to a youth detention facility for the night. We're left in a bit of a conundrum, we don't have anyplace for him to really spend the night, baring the staff here wanting to observe him over night. So I was hoping..."

Realizing where this might go I try and head it off at the pass. "That I know of someone who can watch him for the night?"

"Drew, I ran your name through the system again and, like the last time, your record came up clean."

"Wait....Again? Why did you run my name a first time?"

"Well, my sister mentioned your name to me and I was just looking out for her well being..."

I'd suspected he'd done this when I first met him and he knew more about me than I was comfortable with, but to hear it from his own mouth made me angry, but I needed to focus on the situation and save that for later. He pauses, as if waiting for me to go off. I don't.

"As I was saying. You did good so far and we all would appreciate it if you could watch him for the rest of the night. Its either that or we have no choice but to drop him in the detention facility for the night and we don't want to."

Seriously? After telling me he invaded my privacy, he asks me a favor to watch this kid for a night? I was preparing to tell him hell no, when a cough interrupted us.

"Gentleman, sorry to interrupt, but I'm Doctor Jennings and I just completed the checkup on young Spike."

Barton is the first to speak. "Very good doctor, how is he?"

"Other than the mysteriously natural looking green hair? Nothing at all. He seems to be in perfect health. Also, Mr. Hall as you asked, we did a mental exam to look for any kind of head trauma and thankfully that was also clear. Now, who will be signing the papers to complete his visit and take him home?"

I look at Barton and then at Spike, who has just come through the doors to the waiting area. I look again at Barton, who sighs and begins to speak. "Well, none of our agents can take the boy to one of our houses so..."

"I'll be watching him for the night." I interrupt. My guilty conscious got the better of me. I couldn't help but think of the monsters they keep in those detention homes and what they'd do to someone as confused and lost as Spike. "The officer and I were just finalizing the details."

"Is that correct Officer?"

Looking at me with a relieved look on his face, "Yes Doctor, that’s correct."

"Well then, Mr. Hall please come over here and sign these waivers and forms."

Walking over to where the Doctor pointed I mouth "You owe me one" to the officer, he looks to get the words. Signing about a half dozen forms, I turn to the young man sitting silently in one of the chairs.

"Looks like yer stuck with me for a little longer Spike."

Chapter 2: Exit the Dragon, Enter the Boy

Chapter 2: Exit the Dragon, Enter the Boy

The rest of the night was rather uneventful. He remained quite until we got back into my car. Buckling up, I turned to him, to at least break the slightly eerie silence. I mean he had been so talkative earlier, or well just not this quite.

"You okay there Spike? You've been awfully quite since we got to the hospital"

"Why should I be talkative? This is all going to end the minute I wake up. Besides, you seemed to not believe me when I said, well anything, so what’s the point in saying it again when no ones likely to believe me?"

While I couldn't fault him on the latter point, it was still rather cynical for someone so young. Glancing over at him while at a red light, I noticed he looked to be sulking.

"Look, its not that I don't believe you, its just that you've been saying a lot of.....um...interesting things and I really need to get my head around it. Plus, I don't think you've told me the entire story and really who you are. All I've gotten so far are pieces and parts, so its kind of disjointed."

While they were half truths, I still was curious to hear his whole story, or what amounted to it anyways.

"You really......" Letting out a long and loud yawn, spike continues.."Mean that? I guess I can tell you when we get back to your house."

"No, when we get back its straight to bed. Its late, I'm tired and you seem tired. You can tell me your story over breakfast and while we wait for the agent to show up"

Speaking of which, I never did get a time or a number to use to contact the welfare agents. Stupid stupid stupid......at least they have my cell and home phone. The kid's yawn interrupts my internal monolog.

"I guess, if I still haven't woken up from this by the time I wake up here, I can tell you."

Sighing I just ignore the comment and with that we pull into my driveway. Parking I guide the half asleep child to the guest room; throw some blankets over his sleeping form; lock the doors and go to bed myself. Of course my mind won't let me fall asleep to quickly and its almost 2 am before I finally drift into dream land.

"Why no I don't mind if your three girlfriends join us in the hot tub. There’s plenty of room for all four of you ladies and myself......What? They don't have swimsuits? That’s fine, they don't need them, its just us anyways.....Ladies, welcome!.....you don't have to crowd around me there’s plenty of roo..."

"I"M STILL HIDEOUS!!!!!!!"

The scream breaking me out of, what was turning out to be a rather nice dream and jarring me back into reality. Stupid stupid reality. I get up and stretch, looking over at the clock on my dresser...

"8 freaking AM? doesn't this kid know the meaning of sleeping in on the weekend?" I say rhetorically to myself

Groaning, I throw on a cleanish set of cloths from my floordrobe and head to the guest room to get the kid to shut up. Opening the cracked door I see Spike sitting on the bed, hyper ventilating slightly and rocking back and forth repeating, over an over again.

"Why won't I wake up? This is just a dream. This isn't real"

All the while, running the blue micro-fleece blanket I had tossed over him back and forth through his hands, like it was some sort of harbor from reality. Clearing my throat to get his attention I finally speak.

"You alright there Spike? I heard a scream and came to see if you were alright."

Completely ignoring me, he continues chanting his little sutra, still oblivious to my presence. Now I have to put up with a lot of oblivious, stammering fools at my day job and I really don't need this on the weekend, so I walk over to the kid, place my hands on his shoulders to stop the rocking and turn him to me. Speaking firmly, but not threateningly (and not blowing a gasket either) I lay out some marching orders.

"Listen Spike. You are awake. This isn't a dream. This is real. Now why don't you stop having a panic attack, go wash up, we'll get some breakfast, and then you can tell me your entire story and maybe, just maybe, we can get this entire mess sorted out. Understood?"

Putting on a look that would hopefully broker no arguments, I wait for his response. Slowly his breathing returns to normal and he stops fidgeting with the blanket. Looking up at me with a confused expression, not unlike one a lost puppy would give, he nods his head and stops rocking. Smiling slightly, I hear his stomach growl.

"Breakfast sounds good. Do you happen to have any gem stones?" He asks quizzically and slightly hopeful.

My eyebrow raises slightly as I think. Gemstones as in Rubies, sapphires, and Emeralds? Or is it some new cereal or one of the million knock-off store brands?

"Um" I pause. "I...don't think I have any Gem Stones, but I do have some Lucky Charms."

Hoping those will work, I head for the kitchen as he heads for the guest bathroom. Before the water turns on in the sink, I swear I hear the sobbing of a boy, who's not quite a man yet. Grabbing the paper, I begin thinking to myself, it was good I watched him for the night. One of those juvenile homes would have ruined him, even in the course of a night. Walking to the kitchen I smell the best part of waking up, a programmable coffee pot. Thankfully I had filled it the night before, most likely out of habit. Pouring myself a cup, I took a swig of the steaming wakeup juice. Now I can deal with things this morning. Rummaging through the cupboard I pull out two bowls, some spoons, and two boxes of cereal. For me its Cheerios, for the kid, some Lucky Charms. I open the fridge, grab the bread and milk, tossing four slices of the former into the toaster. Hearing the door to the bathroom open, I look over my shoulder and see Spike enter the kitchen, he looks more awake and less....shaky now.

"Take a seat at the table, breakfast will be ready shortly. Do you prefer butter, jelly, or peanut butter on your toast?"

Perking up even more, he put his finger to his mouth, thinking a little. he replies.

"Oh! do you have apple jam? A friend of mine makes some really really good apple jam and I kind of really want some."

Shaking my head in a no, he looks a little disheartened.

"Sorry, just got grape and strawberry."

"Grape will be fine then."

His voice showing his disappointment. Turning back to the counter, I pour each cereal into their respective bowl, adding milk to both, and sprinkled sugar on mine. The toast popped and I spread the strawberry jelly onto two piece foe me and the grape on two for Spike. Placing the two bowls and plates of toast onto the table, I grab my coffee and sit down, joining the boy. He greedily devoured the toast and then started on the cereal, with a bit of trepidation. Me, I sip my coffee and slowly eat the toast and cereal. I see him take that first tenuous spoonful of the Lucky Charms and eat it. A smile flirts across my face as I go back to my breakfast and the morning paper. The sound of a spoon rapidly bouncing off the bowl across from me verifies my thought. He seemed to like the cereal. I blame the marshmallows....they're magically addictive. Hearing a slurping sound followed by a contented sigh, I look up to see that he's finished his breakfast. I guess now would be a good time to get his complete story.

"So, with breakfast out of the way, how about you tell me your story. Who you are, who your family is, where you're from, all of that. Maybe once we get all that out in the open, we can go about finding you a way to get home."

"Well, okay. Just don't laugh or say anything till I'm finished got it?"

"Sure, just tell me what you want. I won't say anything till you're finished. You've got my word."

"Then, once upon a time in the magical land of Equestria....."

What follows is a story that seems fantastical. More like a book or TV show meant for young girls. Magical pony princesses; sapient, talking Pegasuses, unicorns, and regular horses; dragons, manticores, and all sorts of mythical beasts out of Greek legend. It was a lot to take in and the way he told it seemed more like he lived it, not read or watched it. It kind of made me want to believe him, but common sense won out for me. As detailed as it was, I couldn't rationalize someone being magical transported and transformed, from another universe and end up in my care. He finishes the story and looks at me for a response.

"Thats quite a story. I'm not sure what to say. Its a lot to take in"

"You don't believe me do you?" The boy responds in a deadpan voice.

"Its not that I don't believe you, I want to, but it goes against a lot of what I know and shifting views is not something that’s easy for anyone. But let me ask you some questions about your family. You said that you were...hatched by someone named Twilight Sparkle right?

"Yeah, female unicorn with a purple coat and dark purple mane, which has a pink stripe in it."

"So, since she raised you, she must be your mother correct? If so she must be very worried about you. Do you have anyway to contact her? A phone number, email, or something else?"

Looking confused near the end he responds.

"What!? Twilight my mom? Nah, she raised me alright, but I see her as a sister. My mom, my dragon mom is out there somewhere....in Equestria. But yeah, she should be worried about me. However, I have no idea what a phone number or email is. Normally, if I need to contact her, I send either owliscious, that’s her pet owl, or have a Pegasus deliver a message for me. Seeing as neither of them are here right now. No, I don't have a way to contact her."

He says the last part with a small portion of sarcasm, which once again belies his apparent age. I continue, making a mental note of his responses. Talking about his past seemed to perk him up and gave me a chance to try and find some way to find his family and get him home (and out of my hair).

"Okay, so your sister, you said works in a library in a small town, near a large apple farm right?"

"Yeah, Ponyville and Sweet Apple Acres. Remember that apple jam I told you about? Its made by Applejack and Granny Smith, that’s her grandmother. Its really good. They also make really really really good apple cider..."

He rambles on about the Apple family and their various apple based goods. He talks of the oldest brother, "Big Mac", the middle sister "Applejack" (AJ for short), the youngest sister "Applebloom", and then the grandmother "Granny Smith". My mind begins to wander as Spike happily rambles on.

"You're not listening anymore are you?"

Broken from my mental wandering, I loop at him sheepishly.

"You got me, yeah my mind kind of wandered there, sorry."

"Don't be, Rainbow Dash and Pinkie Pie have a tendency to wander as well, so I'm used to it."

Shrugging my shoulders I go back to the paper. Flipping back to the front page, having bypassed it for the comics and sports section, my mouth falls open. I mutter the headline under my breath, letting the implications sink in.

"County Child Services Juvenile Home damaged by fire"

"Huh? what was that?" questions Spike.

Ignoring him I read on.....converted hotel....electrical fire....away at Halloween party.....no one injured...two of the six floors damaged...pressed for housing....need volunteer foster homes. Each sentence making my face fall further. Looking up at Spike and back at the article all I can think of is one word......shit....that and calling Barton to see what’s going on. I didn't dislike the kid and he didn't seem malicious, unlike some of those little brats that sneak in to use the computer labs or just wreck them, just confused and lost. Still I don't even trust myself to be responsible for a pet cat, let alone a kid. Setting the paper on the table I stand up, heading to grab my cell phone from beside my bed. Turning back towards the table I address the bored looking tween sitting there.

"I'll be right back, I'm just going to call Sargent Barton and see what the plan is for today. I shouldn't be to long. You said you...live in a library, so if you like reading I've got a book over on the counter" I gesture towards it with my head. " I just finished you can read if you're bored. Its part of a series that I've red a few times."

Getting up, Spike wanders over to where the book was and picks it up, reading the cover and title out loud.

"Orion by Ben Bova? Never heard of him. Heard of a Ben Bovine though, I think Twilight has a bunch of his books in the fiction section at the library."

Shrugging my shoulders I say over my shoulder.

"Just give it a read, I think you'll find it at least an interesting way to pass the time."

I hear the thump of someone sitting down and the turning of a page as I head down the hall. Grabbing my phone I dig out the business card he'd given me last night and dial, what I assume is his work phone. A few rings and there’s an answer.

"Sargent Barton here, how may I help you?"

"Yeah, this is Drew and how about explaining to me the real reason no one could take Spike last night?"

I say it with enough sarcasm to cut the little bit of malice I have over lied to by the guy. A sigh on the other side of the line and the officer speaks.

"So I take it you saw the paper then yes? I'll say this now. I was not lying to you last night, they did have their budget cut and don't normally have late night agents. However, yes, the fire was the reason I couldn't take him to the home myself." Pausing to give me a chance to respond, I don't, he continues. "I was hoping, we all were hoping that the damage wasn't as bad as it seemed at first glance. As you probably can tell from the paper, it was worse than we thought."

"So, where does that leave me and Spike hmm?"

"That is out of my control. However, I can tell you that one of the child services agents should be by around noonish. He or she will then do what they do and, well I don't know what will happen."

"Gee.....thanks for the information."

"Now don't be so snarky. Originally they weren't going to be able to come till Monday. I managed to convince them to send someone today."

"Well, thanks for that."

"No problem. I've got to go now, shift change is happening in a bit and I'm needed. Please give me a call if you find anything from Spike that might help us track down his family. Bye"

"Yeah, bye"

Hanging up I let out a long sigh. Only a few more hours till the agent shows up, but it still feels like an eternity. Guess I can kill the time with some television. Heading back to the kitchen to check on Spike I see that he is now deeply engrossed in the book.

"I'm gonna be in the other room, come get me or just call for me if you need anything."

An "Uhuh" is all I get from the enthralled youngster. See, I told him it was interesting. Smirking a little I flop onto the couch and turn on the TV, flipping around until I settle on the BBC and Top Gear. Oh, its some episodes I've not seen. Even better. Time passes fast, I even catch myself dozing off a little, that is until the doorbell ringing clears the sleepiness from my head. Looking at my watch I see that its around 12:15, must be that agent.

"I'm coming"

I call to whom ever is at the door. Opening it I see an elderly woman, who very much reminds me of my own grandmother. Shaking her aged hand I welcome her in and offer her seat. Sitting down, she opens a portfolio. She speaks first.

"Thank you deary. You must be Drew Hall. Its a pleasure to meet you Let me introduce myself, my name is Gina Smith and I'm the regional manager for the Child Protection Services. I don't normally make visits like this, but the rest of my staff is busy dealing with the aftermath of that fire last night."

G. Smith? An elderly grandmother like woman named Smith? Didn't Spike mention a Granny Smith? Probably a coincidence, tons of Smiths out there, hell I think my Great Grandfather was a Smith.

"Yeah, I read about it in the paper. Its a good thing no one was in at the time. Small miracles and all that. Now, you're here because of the child I found last night correct?"

I say that trying to not sound eager at all. She pushes her glasses up and reads, what I can only assume is the police report or whatever from last night.

"Dear me yes on both accounts. Shame about the top two floors though. More water damage from the sprinklers than from the fire. Going to be weeks, if not months before its all fixed. That does bring me to the reason for the visit. Where is Young Spike right now?"

"He's in the kitchen reading a book. Need me to get him?"

"No, its better if we talk with out him for the moment. Now, as you can probably guess we don't have any place for him at the moment. The fire has really put us behind an eight ball."

Taking off her glasses and cleaning them with a cloth she sighs and looks at me with those deep grandmotherly eyes.

"That’s why I'd like to ask you something. We are looking for bright, upstanding young people, like yourself, to take in some of these children while we search for a home for them; their own home; and repair the damages. Now, while I don't expect you to take in any of those poor souls displaced by the fire, I would like it if you'd agree to watch over Mr. Spike as his foster guardian while we search for his real family."

I very much want to say no, but why do I feel so guilty thinking about saying that one word? Would it be so hard for me to care for the kid? I mean its not like he's an infant or a toddler, those need lots of attention. He's already mostly grown. Should be easy right? Plus Mrs. Smith sounds like she really needs me to say yes and I think it would be a burden lifted from her shoulders.

"I......I need to think about it some."

Is all I can say. At that moment Spike wanders in, waves at the both of us and speaks.

"Sorry, I didn't know you had company. I'll just head back to the kitchen and wait."

"No no, whatcha need?" I reply

"Um....the first book was really really good and I kind of finished it already...Do you have the sequels?"

"Yeah, they're over on the bookshelf, near the middle. The next book is 'Vengeance of Orion'. Help yourself."

He heads over, grabs the book in question and walks happily back to the kitchen to read it. I turn back to Gina and she has that peaceful, knowing smile only the elderly can have.

"Oh my, you are so good with him. He also seems to be fond of you. In many many years of doing this I can just tell. It would be a real shame to have to find him somewhere else. Such a shame. But you said you need to think about it, so I'll just get the boy and take him to our headquarters. I'll then start the papers to get him placed with one of the already crowded foster homes. Poor dear."

GAH!!! It feels like I was just stabbed through the heart. way to guilt trip me there. Screw it, how hard can it be? It'll make this ladies day and besides, who can say no to such a sweet, little old lady? I don't think of any reasonable person that can. This will also help me stop feeling so damned guilty, like I am letting down the entire freaking child services......with this much sense of basic guilt you'd think I was Catholic. Sighing I finally respond.

"There’s no need. I'll watch him until the hotel, house, whatever is fixed up."

The smile that comes across her face could lighten any heart and I immediately feel like I did the right thing.

"Very very good! I was hoping you'd agree. Now, I'll just need you to sign some temporary papers now and then the full paper work will need to be filled out on Monday. The office opens at 7:30, could you come by before work? We have a program you can even leave Spike in the care of while at work. Its specifically for children like Spike who are not yet attending school. It'll even give him a test to see what grade level he will be placed in"

All I can do is sign the forms and nod my head. Making some notes in the calendar in my phone. Guess I'll have to get up earlier than normal Monday.

"Yeah, I can swing by work doesn't start till 9 anyways."

"That’s great! I'll let you go tell Spike. I can see my way out. See you Monday."

She seemed so happy as I saw her out. Afterwards I went to talk to Spike. All he did was nod and grunt affirmatives every so often. I guess I got a reader on my hands. Thankfully I've got a lot of books. It went like this for the rest of the weekend. Spike spent most of the time reading. Devouring many of the series I had. Rama, Wingman, Goosebumps (don't judge, I collected them as a kid). He read them all. Then Monday came as inexorably as Death (gods I hate Mondays). I got the both of us up, explained to him what was going on. He grabbed a few books from his current series of choice and off we went. The drive was uneventful and we got to the child services office in short order. I dropped Spike off at the program, little explanation needed as they were expecting him. Me, I was escorted to Gina's office to fill out the paperwork.

"Welcome, welcome. Its nice to see you again Drew."

Wow, was she chipper. How could she be so chipper this early? This is why I hate morning people.

"Come in and take a seat. Oh, and have one of these Apple Crisp Muffins, baked fresh this morning."

My stomach grumbling slightly, I sit down and take one of the still warm muffins. Taking a bite, I smile. These are good.

"Now I'll need you to sign here....here..initial here...sign and date here....and initial here. There we go. All signed and dated. We'll mail you the moderate stipend provided for foster parents every month. Speaking of which, I will be doing monthly visits to make sure you are taking good care of Spike and that he's not any trouble to you."

I'm more or less on auto-pilot. I am so not a morning person. This muffin is really good. She shakes my hand.

"Congratulations Mr. Hall, you're now Spike's temporary guardian for the next six months. Now I've taken up enough of your time this beautiful morning."

Stupid morning people.....I wish I was still in bed. Looking down at my watch I see that she's right though, I've got about a half hour till work starts. I should get going. I'm handed a manilla folder with my copies of the paperwork. She also hands me another muffin.

"You seemed to like the first one, so have another and thank you so much for choosing to help out. I'm sure you will find it a most rewarding experience."

Nodding my head and saying my goodbyes, I had back to my car. Taking a bite from the new muffin I find it just as good as the other. I should ask her where she gets them from when she makes her monthly visi.......dropping the muffin, everything suddenly hits me.

"I just did what!?"

Chapter 3: Dragon Boy: Origins

Chapter 3: Dragon Boy: Origins

"I just did what!?"

Really good muffins aside, let me step aside in the recollection of the past year and do something I should have done sooner in this. That is explain where I live, it'll give context to a lot of these things and make things easier down the road. Heck, I doubt I've said much of anything about who I am and where I live. All you might know is that I'm in my late 20's, have a house and a job. Not much to go on, so lets change that. Hello, my name is Drew Hall, let me tell you about my city (if you can call it that).

Firstly, I'm in the Great Lakes region of the mid-western United States, which means cold bitter winters and hot, humid summers. We get it coming and going here. With these two extremes, the roads get demolished so when its not winter, its orange barrel season. Hope you like road construction and delays. Thankfully, the city I live in is a small town surrounded by farms, so not much backup can occur. Lots of Mom & Pop stores in the down town area, but still has the Big-Box stores in the vicinity. Just like the rest of Mid-America

It would be just one of thousands of small towns if it weren't for the college here. See, the city was founded in the 19th century and shortly there after the college was founded. If it weren't for that, this place would be a veritable ghost town, or not even exist. Its a private liberal arts college, which people tell me is rather prestigious, not that I'd know, I went to a state school. Place has a world class conservatory (or so I'm told) as well, brings in people from all around the world to teach. Me? I work for the college's technology services department. I run the Help Desk, so I get to deal with ALL of the self entitled brats that go to this college and the egotastic staff. Not everyone's like that, but enough to keep me annoyed. Thankfully, they give me an assortment of student staff to do most of the grunt work. I just get stuck with the paperwork (be it digital or dead-tree) most of the time.

Now theres not much of a night life here, theres three bars. One for the local boozers to gather; one for the local students (both high school and college age I'm afraid) to get drunk; and one ran by the college itself. The latter one being the most "happening" one. Mostly because of the various live shows and events they get. Still, other than billiards or bowling, not much happens. This is of course why most locals just ditch the town in general and head to one of the actual cities near by. I never did, preferred digital entertainment, but thankfully this town does have a LAN center, which maintains some level of sociability when growing up. Yeah, I'm from this town. Born and raised, parents worked for the local schools until they retired and moved south. I bought their house, when they moved, better than the apartment I was in. Besides, its my childhood home can't blame a guy right?

Well, I think that enough background for the moment, where was I? Right the muffin and realizing what had just happened. They are good muffins though.

"I just did what!?"

I exclaimed to my car as if expecting an answer. Of course, as this wasn't Knight Rider and the car wasn't K.I.T.T., none was forthcoming. Picking up the dropped muffin (which had fallen into a cup holder) I went ahead and finished it, no sense in wasting it. Shrugging my shoulders I decided to just head into work and get Monday over with. Heres hoping it'll be a quite day so I can mentally sort through what happened and get a handle on it. Not like I can take it back. I was raised to adhere to my promises as best I could and I really, really didn't want to deal with the guilt trip I'd get from that woman if I tried to rescind my agreement. A few moments later and I'm at the main library, which doubles as the college's tech center and head in to begin my day.

Swiping my ID card to get in, I head to the lounge and drop my hastily thrown together lunch into the fridge. Some hot pockets and granola bars. Seeing one of the network guys I wave at him.

"Mornin' Phil, glorious Monday ain't it? So, what'd the students break over the weekend that we have to fix?"

I ask jokingly, but his face and reaction are worrying to say the least. Its like someone shot his server.

"Oh hells, what broke...."

"No one told you?" he asks incredidiously.

"Told me what?"

"One of the CS majors was raising a 'Virus Farm' on an external Hard Drive for an honors project. Had hundreds of the bastards in it. Studying anti-virus and system security or some nonsense."

Blanching, "Don't tell me......"

"Yup, one of his room mates 'borrowed' it, plugged it into his UNPROTECTED machine, connected to the campus share site, and loosed the bastards onto the entire network. The servers damn near melted themselves from the sudden outbound traffic from all those damned bots, trojans, and mal-ware. I had to kill all outbound traffic. Right now its just an intranet, no internet"

"Shoot me now. We're gonna have to scan every machine on campus now."

Patting me on the back, he turns to leave and with, what I assume is a smirk on his face does a wave. "Happy Monday!" I just glare at him. Remember when I hoped for a quite day? Yeah, I'm Murphy's bitch. I think his law effects me more than gravity. The day screamed past at break neck speeds. Fielding phone calls; organizing the scanning sites for people to bring in there machines to be scanned, cleaned, and protected; and then working with the professional staff to draft an angry, threatening, yet pleseant email to the CS department's chair to keep such a thing from happening again. Soon the day was over and I had to go get Spike from the, basically day care, I left him in. Today had been hell. I hate Mondays.

I pick him up in short order, he's quite but seems in good spirits. His day was probably better than mine was. According to the staff he was a perfect, if not grumpy and introverted, angel. Phew, that calmed one of my fears of him having had either a breakdown or told someone his 'story'.

"So my day was horrible, how was your day Spike?"

Shrugging his shoulders, "Eh, kind of normal yah know? I sat around. Read the books I brought. Reshelved and organized their books. I mean come one, they were everywhere! No rhyme, no reason. And I thought Twilight was bad when she went on one of her research or study binges. It was like Pinky organized them while on a sugar high. Oh and they made me take a 'School Placement Test' to determine what grade I should be in. I've never attended school before, not that I told them that, I mean school is mandatory for your foals"

"kids"

"whatever. School in mandatory and It'd cause trouble for me if I said so. Thankfully Twilight made sure I knew enough to be her assistant and all of those books she had me reference, read, shelf, etc stuck with me so I know enough."

"So, how'd the test go?"

"Well everpony"

"everyone" I correct him. He just glares back.

"EveryONE said that my math, science, and language arts was superb. But......" he trailed off, slightly despondently.

"Let me guess, social studies and/or history was horrid?"

"Yup. Not my world, not my history"

"You seem to be taking this whole 'other world" thing better than the other morning."

"Well yeah. I finally remembered what happened right before I got here."

"Oh?"

"Yeah. It was Nightmare Night and instead of just Princess Luna visiting like the previous year, we also had Princess Celestia. Well, Princess Celestia, it seems, really likes alcohol and, while relaxing at a private Pinky party had a few."

"So this all-powerful pony goddess transported you here while drunk?"

"No, thats just the start of it. You see she, being an Alicorn has a much higher tolerance than most ponies, that didn't stop her from convincing Twilight that a shot contest against her would be a good lesson in friendship however."

"I think I can see where this is going...." I said as I put the car in park, having reached my house.

"Yeah, lets just say that trying to out drink somepony twice your size and with a tolerance over 4 times yours is not a good idea. Needless to say Twilight got wasted and, surprisingly enough, so did the Princess, just not to the same extent. Well, Twilight was fall-down drunk and couldn't walk so I was going to cart her home with the help of the royal guard. Now Princess Celestia decided to 'help' and teleport Twilight and myself back to the library. While I'd have normally accepted this, she was drunk and drunk magic is bad."

"Even with out magic, I can defiantly agree with you on that point", having made a few stupid drunk dials and emails before myself.

He continued. "Well, Twilight, always wanting to impress the Princess decided she was sober enough to teleport us. Which she tried to do and, wanting to 'help', the Princess added some of her own power, more than I'd suspect she meant to and......well"

"Poof, you ended up here with me finding you?"

"Yup, that sums it up rather nicely."

"I wonder what happened to Twilight if you ended up here."

"Well, Twilight's aim was off and only I was enveloped in the teleportation matrix. Or maybe it was the Princess's 'help'. Not sure. She's probably working herself into a frenzy trying to get me back, worrying everypony. So I've just kind of accepted my whole situation as Magic being Magic."

"That’s one way of looking at it. My mother has a saying 'It is what it is', which I think applies here. No come on, lets head into the house so I can get dinner started and tell you about my day."

The both of us got out of the car and headed inside, I grab the mail as I pass the mailbox. Stopping just inside the door, I hand Spike a key.

"Look, you'll be staying here for the time being so I thought you'd need a key so that you can lockup or get in when I'm not here. Now I'm trusting you to be responsible with it, so please behave yourself."

"Oh you can count on my Twilight gave me a key to the tree as well. I Pinkie Pie swear I'll behave and be the most responsible drago.....human you know."

Smiling I nod and head to the kitchen. Spike heads into the tv room and plops down to, I assume continue reading. I start to make dinner. For him, a grilled cheese sandwich. I add bacon to mine. I'd found out a few nights ago that he had been raised vegetarian, which made sense based on his story, so I've had to adjust what I cook. Not that it would stop me from having my dead animal flesh. Reheating some leftover vegetables I hear the TV in the background, sounds like a commerical. He must have decided to watch it instead of read. Unless he'd finished yet another series.

He'd actually taken to the TV better than I expected. More so when I referred to how it works as magic, which to someone like me who has no clue how everything in it works is good enough. Magic was, well, the magic word and he accepted it. They do say that sufficiently advanced technology is indistinguishable from magic, I guess this would apply. Listening I here what sounds like Michael Dorn and Patrick Stewart, must be an episode of Star Trek: The Next Generation, I wonder which one. Grabbing the two plates I head in to check on it and give Spike his dinner.

"Oh John-Luc, you do amuse me so."

Setting down the plates I think oh, its a Q episode. I like those episodes, I'll have to see when it replays and record it on the DVR. Spike on the other hand looks mortified and screams.

"AHHHHHHHH its Discord! He's in the magic box! Wait, Discord! I bet he transported me here to keep me away from my friends. Yes, it wasn't Twilight or the Princess who messed it up, it was Discord!"

Sighing.....again, I look quizzically at Spike.

"Discord? That’s the character Q, played by John De-lancie, not some 'Discord' person. Besides its a TV show, its not real"

"But he sounds and acts just like Discord!"

Seeing the pleading, scared look in his eyes I place my hand on his shoulder.

"Look, its not whoever you say it is. Its a character in a show, just like the characters in all of the books you've read. Besides, this episode is older than you are."

"But..." The sound of a rumbling stomach stops him in mid sentence.

"Sounds like you're hungry", I point to the plate "dig in. Also, you never told me what they said. We kind of went on a tangent with your memory."

In mid chew he begins to respond, but I cut him off before he can even start. "Finish chewing first. Its rude to talk with your mouth full." He swallows and then begins anew.

"Oh, they said I'll be placed into 8th grade based on the other subjects. They think I was goofing off on the social studies part so I have to take that section again. Do you have any books I could read?"

The first thing that comes to mind is wikipedia, but I quickly bury that. If his story is to be believed, which I find myself doing, he is not ready or prepared for the internet. Thinking some more, I remember my parents leaving some of their stuff here in storage, since, well the house was still in the family.

"My mother was a teacher and I think she left some of her textbooks here when they moved. We'll take a look after dinner. Oh, when did they want you to start attending school? I'll need to get you registered. Hmmm, come to think of it I'll need a last name for you, all of the paperwork thus far only has 'Spike'. Do you have one?"

"Uh, they said next Monday would be best, but I need to retake that part Friday. Hopefully you have a book, I don't want to fail it twice. As for a last name, well I was raised by Twilight Sparkle, so Sparkle?"

"Spike Sparkle? Vetoed, you're green hair will stick out enough, I don't want your name to as well. Lets see....."

I start to think of names. Hmm, dragon.....Dreugan! I think thats Scotish for dragon. Make it McDreugan and we have a winner. I'll have to check to make sure thats not a real last name first, but lets see if Spikes okay with it.

"How does McDreugan sound? Its a basic Scotish name prefix with the Scotish word for dragon, best I can come up with."

"Spike McDreugan. Spike McDreugan". He repeats this a few times as if to familiarize himself with it. "I think that will work."

Satisfied I finish my dinner, grab the plates, toss them into the ever growing stack, and go look for those books. It doesn't take me long to find them, I kind of just left my Mother's office closet alone. Looks like we have a 6th and 7th grade social studies books. Those should work. Taking them back to the TV room, I hand them to Spike.

"These should do you. Let me know if you have any questions and I'll 'try' to answer them."

"Thanks"

He takes them and begins reading them. Thinking of my mother, I realize she should know the best way to register him. I also have to get the inevitable out of the way and tell them about Spike. Biting the bullet, I grab my cellphone and dial. It rings and then theres an answer.

"Oh Drew, its nice to hear from you. Whats up?"

"Not a lot Mom. Got a few things to tell you as well as a question for you."

"Oh?"

"Well, first, what does one have to do to register a kid with the school district so they can attend classes?"

"Oh did someone new move into the neighborhood and you're lending them a hand to register their children? Thats sweet of you."

"Ummm, yeah something like that, which kind of leads to the second item. I adopted a"

She interrupts me, "Oh did you finally get yourself a pet? Did you go for a cat or get a Dog? I mean the house has the nice fenced in yard and the doggy door. That is still there right?"

I sigh, moment of truth.

"Yes it is, but actually, I adopted, at least temporarily, a kid. He's around 12."

"Oh thats nice dear, whats his na......"

Here it comes..

"You did what!?"

"So, about registering a kid with the school district....."

Chapter 4: Dragon Breath Chili

Chapter 4: Dragon Breath Chili

I'll spare you the details of the call, but lets just say that it wasn't fun. But after going over the events of the past few days with both her and my father and letting the two of them air any issues they had, we came to an agreement. Both of them agreed, that with the circumstances present, I did the right thing. That said, Thanksgiving was going to be at my house this year. Yeah, nice of them to change the plans three weeks before hand. Hopefully it doesn't ruin any of the rest of my family's travel plans. At least I got the registration information. Hanging up the phone I sigh, speaking to myself.

"Well, that went better than expected. I'd thought the both of them would've been ready to hop the next plane here. Glad I could buy some time.

Walking back from my office to the family room where Spike was I get his attention with a tap to the shoulder, breaking him out of his reading.

"Hey Spike, we'll be having company in a few weeks. My parents and siblings will be in town for the holiday."

"Holiday? Like Hearths Warming Eve?"

"Uh, no idea about that one, but its called Thanksgiving, and its a celebration for a good harvest. It should be in one of the text books I gave you. With it coming up, you should probably make sure to read up on it."

With experience garnered from a helping Twilight with research, the young man quickly located the chapter on the Pilgrims and the first Thanksgiving.

"Gotcha, I'll read this and let you know if I have any questions."

"Now don't stay up to late reading those books. I'll be in my office working, but will poke my head back out in a few hours to get you to bed."

A non committal "harumph" from him is all I get, so with that I let Spike get back to his reading. I myself had to get to paying the ever looming bills and doing the other things a responsible adult is supposed to do. In short order, mostly due to online bill payment, I vanquish the enemy for this month. I spend the next few hours surfing the internet, playing my current computer game of choice, and checking up on Spike. Then, at around 10 pm, as I had done each night since the first, I got Spike to put the book down, clean up, and go to bed. My parents had made sure I followed a similar nightly habit growing up (not that such a habit had survived college), so I made sure he began to form a similar one. Now, with him in bed, I get some more game time in. Shortly I head to bed myself, thoughts of holiday stresses dancing through my head.

The morning came with its usual blaring annoyances which was shortly followed by my exhausted frame smacking the alarm and setting the snooze for an hour. Through the years I had found that waking up early and going back to sleep did wonders for my alertness in the morning. An hour later the demonic alarm fired again and begrudginly I got up and got ready for the day. Spike, as had happened since that second morning, was already awake and happily munching on a bowl of Lucky Charms. A few slices of buttered toast, the newspaper, and a cup of coffee sat in front of one of the other chairs, waiting for me. I guess he was worth having around, a guy could get used to waking up with breakfast already made each morning.

"Morning kid, thanks for the breakfast, a guy could get spoiled by this."

I chuckle slightly after saying that and sit down.

"Its no problem. I'm just glad to help." A bit of melancholy enters his voice as he continues. "I used to do this every morning for Twilight anyways, so it just feels.....right. Its this little bit of normalcy that keeps me from breaking down completely. Ya know what I mean?"

Putting my hand on his shoulder I shake my head, "I actually don't have any idea of what you might be going through, however I do know everyone has their ways of coping with things. If making breakfast helps you, then by all means keep doing it. If theres anything I can do to help or anything that you want to do to help yourself, let me know okay?"

"Thanks, I appreciate that. The reading helps, makes me think of all of the days spent just reading at the Golden Oaks Library. There is one thing that I've wanted to do. You said that your family is coming correct?"

"Yeah, in about three weeks or so, why?"

"If thats the case, would you mind if...I...Um...cleaned the house?"

Almost choking on my toast at the thought of someone his age enjoying and wanting to clean I cough some. "Sure, if thats what you want."

A smile graces his face. "Cool! This place is so dusty. Twilight would have never let the library get this way. I even think theres a breeding population of dust bunnies under my bed!"

I can't help but laugh at his enthusiasm. Soon his laughs join my own. Its the first real laugh I've gotten out of him since this all started. After a few minutes of mirth, I look at my watch, its time to head out.

"Spike, finish up, we've got to go. I need to talk to Mrs. Smith after dropping you off and then swing by the school board office before heading to work."

"Gotcha. Can I bring the textbooks with me? They really don't have anything worth reading there."

"Sure, whatever floats your boat. Just put them in that old messenger bag I gave you. They'll be easier to carry that way."

And with that we're out the door and into the car. Both of us remain silent except for the occasional groan in reaction to the radio morning shows that seem to replace music at this time of day.

Dropping Spike off at the day program I swing by Mrs. Smith's office. Knocking on the door, she looks up from some paperwork and beckons me to enter. I guess the benefits of a glass door is that she'll always know who's there or passing by, even with it closed. Opening the door I step in, close it and take an offered seat.

"Oh Drew, how can I help you this fine morning?"

"Well, its about getting Spike registered for school. I talked with some people yesterday and the local district requires all students have a last name. As you know, Spike doesn't remember his, which in this case is a problem. I talked with him last night and we are wondering if it would be possible to use a temporary last name until he remembers his real one."

She says nothing, looking me over like a hawk would a rabbit. Slowly she turns around, opens the filing cabinet, and retrieves a folder. Setting it down on her desk, she opens it and after what feels like hours, looks at me with that same analyzing look. Inwardly I wonder if broke some sort of unwritten foster rule. I gulp. Slowly she opens her mouth and....smiles.

"That should work fine dearie. Its a common enough occurrence around here where a child won't or can't give their last name, that we have a procedure for it. Normally we use a stock last name like "Smith" or "Johnson", but in some cases we let the foster parent and the child decide on one. From the look on your face I believe you would fall into the latter category. Would I be correct?"

I relax and nod my head. Its like she can read me like a book. My entire thoughts laid bare before her. Its rather unsettling.

"That would be correct mam. We talked last night and would like to use McDreugan."

"McDreugan? Where did you come up with such a unique name?"

"As the paperwork mentions, I found him wearing a dragon costume and he has a fondness for the mythical creature. With that in mind, I thought of different foreign words for Dragon and we settled on Scottish "Dreugan". So, taking the next logical step we added on the more standard "Mc" prefix. Will this work?"

She sits there thinking for a little bit, staring at the paper in front of her, her pen dangling from her hand.

"That will work fine. Now I have one question for you. How do you spell McDreugan?"

I chuckle and spell it out for her.

"I'm glad that worked out well, now for the second reason I'm here. I need..."

She interrupts me with a raised hand. Her other hand passes me some paperwork.

"Form 82-A containing the child’s full name, approximate age, gender, hair color, eye color, height, and grade level tested into all with the signed and dated endorsement of the primary government assigned agent? Here you go. I filled it out yesterday and just needed to add the last name. If you hadn't stopped by I would have used one of the stock names and sent it home with dear Spike."

How does she do that......I smile and nod. "Thank you, that’s exactly what I needed." I take the offered paper and place it into the bag I had with me. Looking at my watch I see that I'm still a few minutes ahead of schedule. But I should be off to allow for any traffic or delays. I begin to speak, but once again she talks before I can.

"You best be going now. I bet you need to get that paperwork all filed with the School Board so that Spike can start attending school next week. Take care and know that you're always welcome to come by for any advice or just to talk."

Her sweet smile never wavers. Once again I wonder how she does that. Excusing myself I leave her office, clsoing the door after myself. With that, I head out to the board office.

Massaging my right hand I look at the clock, was that only 20 minutes?

"So much freaking paperwork. I swear I signed three or four dozen sheets of paper. Why do our schools have to be such a bureaucratic nightmare?"

All of this is said to my car, which I do not expect to respond. Grumbling to myself I massage my cramping hand one more time and begin the drive to work. Thankfully, unlike the previous day there are no fires to put out. This leads to the day passing quickly. It would have been great, had it not been for the 50+ work orders I had to sign. My hand was ready to fall off by the end of the day. Once again I find myself massaging it before I head over to grab Spike.

"I think I might need to tap into my emergency bourbon when I get home".

The only response from the car is the steady beeping of the seatbelt alert.

A short time later we were back home and some time after that dinner was on the table. Spike himself wash washing up after having given my house the dusting of its life. Where he had found and why he was wearing one of my mother’s old frilled aprons I'll never know. But it seemed to make him happy so I didn't bring it up. I waited for Spike to sit down before I did, a habit my father himself had, waiting for the others to be seated before he sat down. Finally seated, the meal began.

"So Spike, how was your day? Make any friends or did you just spend the day reading the textbooks?"

"I'm the oldest there, most are just foa....young children." he says, catching himself. Its good to see he's adapting to the non-equine naming convention. "I spent most of the day reading, but also helped out the service workers to take care of the young ones. It was nice."

"You really seem to enjoy helping out around the house and, just helping people in general. Its very admirable."

"Thanks, I guess it comes from being Twilight's number one assistant. She has a lot of very important work for the Princess so she needs a helping claw...err hand...around the library, so I just got into the habit of cooking and cleaning to make her work easier. Even here, I can't seem to break the habit."

chuckling I respond, "Not that I mind much."

He laughs back. "I bet you don't. How did you live in such a messy place? I've seen your desk. How the hay can you find anything there, let alone the surface?"

I feign being insulted. "Its organized chaos. I know where everything is in relation to everything else. Its a system that works for me. Don't knock it until you've tried it."

"I guess I can see that, just like" Then with a very wistful and lovestruck look on his face he continues. "Rarity.....she keeps her sewing room in a similar state, but still knows where everything is."

His eyes glass over as if caught in his own little fantasy world. I smirk and decide to press the issue.

"Looks like little Spike has a crush on someone. So, who's this Rarity you speak of hmm?"

"C...Crush? Me? On Rarity? I don......" Breaking down he sighs, "Is it that obvious?"

"I've known you for less than a week and its as clear as day to me from how you just spoke about her. So, yes, its obvious. So, whats she like?"

"She a generous, gorgeous unicorn mare. Her pristine white coat, glowing purple mane, and those blue eyes that you can just get lost in.....She's perfect..." catching himself from going back into another day dream, he continues. "Still her looks are overshadowed by her personality. She's like a goddess."

I interrupt his gushing with a raised hand.

"You really have it bad for her eh?"

"Yeeeeeeah"

"Well, hate to break it to you kid but you'd best not try to romance an equine while you're here. Not only aren't they sentient like in your world, but its generally considered taboo, and downright illegal (well in 22 of the 50 states at least). Maybe you'll find a 'Rarity' here once you start school."

The joking nature of my comment keeps him from being to offended, though he plays it up like an expert. The rest of the night passes with minor interaction. Mostly him asking me a few questions about history and myself looking up the answers online (not that I'll admit that to him). The next few days pass in a similar manner. We're in a very nice habit and Spike's starting to open up more. He even tried some meat and liked it. Mind you it was turkey, which like here is a non-sentient animal where he comes from. Glad I can add meat back to the dinner menu. That aside, I think the reality has hit him and he's just trying to make the best of it. I respect that.

Finally Friday arrives and with it his retest in social studies. With as much reading as he's done over the past few days, I don't doubt he'll get an acceptable score and not be put into a remedial program. From the smile on his face when I pick him up, I'd say that I was right.

"So, not that it looks I need to ask, but how'd the retest go?"

"It went great! Everything was so easy! I even got many of the higher level questions. The examiner was floored and pleased. She said that she knew I could do it if I didn't goof off. I can't believe I remembered all those things. I guess some of Twilight's habits rubbed off on me."

He laughs and I join in. Its a very mirthful car ride back home.

An hour or two later I call Spike into the kitchen, ready to show him my masterpiece.

"Spike, in honor of you passing the test and of your impending days of school. I have made my (in)famous turkey chili!"

With a flourish I remove the lid from the pot to reveal the bubbling brew. Its a 'well seasoned' version of the more standard turkey chili. Loaded with curry powder, chili powder, garlic, onions, tabasco, Sriracha, and other spices. The flavor sticks to your tongue letting you savor every moment of it. Well, for me at least. Most can't stomach it, but I suspect Spike can. He takes a tentative sniff of it and his smile broadens.

"It smells delicious. Almost like a fire ruby come to think of it". Once again his mind wanders, no doubt dealing with a fire ruby, whatever that was. "I can't wait to try some!"

"Fair warning, its rather spicy so if you can't take it let me know." Pointing at another pot on the stove, " I made a smaller pot of it that’s not so heavily seasoned incase you can't take the heat."

Scoffing at my offer he strikes back.

"I've gargled lava, there’s nothing to hot for a dragon!"

As if to emphasize that he sticks out his chest and thumps it triumphantly. Shrugging, I go ahead and serve the steaming chili into two bowls, placing a glass of milk by his and a mug of coffee by my own.

"Well, eat up."

And with that I take my first spoonful of the dish and, after swishing it around my mouth and swallowing, decide that its not spicy enough. Reaching for the curry powder, I add another few dashes. That should do. To his credit, Spike digs into the chili with abandon, seemingly unaffected by the heat. Maybe I made it to weak....hmmm..... Shortly we're both on a second bowl.

"This stuff is AWESOME!!!!!!" a very excited Spike exclaims.

"I'm glad you think so. A lot of people think its to spicy."

"This? This was just right. All of the other stuff has been kind of bland, I just didn't want to hurt your feelings." he says sheepishly.

Had I known he could take the heat, I'd have returned to my normal spicing sooner. Things have been way to bland recently.

"Well, I guess I'll have to spice things up from now on. But let me know if you're not feeling well. I'd hate for all that spice to kick in later."

We both laugh, that is until an uncomfortable look comes across his face and his cheeks bulge. Crap, its looks like he's about to throw up. I lunge for a garbage can, not expecting there to be enough time to get him to a bathroom. His eyes change, as if its familiar to him. With a wave of his hands he assures me the cans not needed. I'm skeptical, but with a mighty exhale its not the chili that comes out, but green fire and a scroll. I have to say, in a decade of making this chili, I've seen plenty of reactions. Including people say it felt like they could spit fire, but I've never actually seen someone actually do it before.

'What the hell was that? Are you okay? I've never seen anyone actually spit fire before."

A little shocked, but okay he responds. "I'm fine, that happens all the time, or at least it used to. Its a letter from the Princess!" he says with a hopeful look in his eyes.

"You mean the Sun Princess you told me about? If I hadn't seen it with my own eyes, I'd have never believed it. So, open it up. I'm curious what it says. If they managed to send you a letter, then maybe they know how to get you home."

With hopeful trepidation he breaks the seal and with practiced ease recites the contents of the letter.

Dear Spike,

I hope this letter reaches you where ever or whenever you are. I combined my magic with that of both Princess Luna and Princess Celestia to send this one. All of the others just returned to your bed at the tree house. If you're reading this then it worked. I'm so sorry for what happened. I never expected my element of magic to activate when I drunkenly tried to teleport you to bed. I'm here in Canterlot, with Princess Celestia who is helping me to try and find a way to get to you.

Oh my number one assistant I hope that you're being taken care of. I can't stand not knowing what happened. I've not been able to sleep well the past few nights and the girls are all worried sick. We all love you so much. I swear on the elements and to Celestia that I will find a way to bring you home. Even if it takes the rest of my life I will bring you back to where you belong. Back to your family.

- Love Twilight Sparkle

The letter flutters to the table abandoned, a stunned look on my face. This single piece of paper just confirmed his entire story. The only sound that can be heard is the wracked sobs of a lost child. The tears of someone who had resisted letting them show for to long. I don't move to comfort him, I know nothing I could say will make the pain go away. Sometimes you just need to cry, so I let him. For the rest of the night all one could hear in the house are the sounds of Spike's crying. The only interruption being a single word, uttered with pain, love, longing, and sorrow.

"Twilight......"

Chapter 5: How to Teach Your Dragon Boy

Chapter 5: How to teach your Dragon Boy

Eventually, a little after one AM he cried himself to sleep, still mumbling his “sister’s” name. I too found sleeps sweet embrace shortly thereafter, however it wasn’t an easy sleep. The rapid turn of events from celebratory (all be it just a little) to sadness had left my mind running in circles. The first and most obvious thing was that Spike wasn’t leading me on with a false story. What he had been telling me was true. He was a dragon and did live in this land called “Equestria”. I guess what’s his face’s multiverse theory was right. This lead to the second question, if the letter was able to reach him, would they be able to come get him? Would he just “Poof” out or would there be a portal or would someone come get him and then both vanish?

“Its times like this I wish I drank”

I say to the demon next to me, its eyes glowing a baleful green showing the evil Three AM. Rolling over another though comes unbidden to me. If they do come for him or he just disappears, if I’m watching him at that time. What do I say? How do I tell child services that his family came and got him suddenly? Bullocks, this is to complicated to think about when half asleep. Snuggling into my blanket I decide to be served that arrest warrant when its issued.

Waking up Saturday morning at the early hour of 10:30 (some people like to sleep in, so sue me). I head out to the kitchen and find breakfast absent. Moving as quietly as possible I go check on Spike, finding him deep asleep, his covers splayed everywhere. I wonder if he had a nightmare after I finally got some sleep. Walking back to the kitchen I start talking to the appliances.

“Well boys, time to wake up. Since it’s later in the morning, I need you all for brunch duty.”

Grabbing the assorted ingredients from the cabinet and fridge I prepare for the coming meal. Hopefully a good meal will help improve Spike’s mood when he wakes up, or at least the smells will make waking up most pleasant. Once again to the appliances, who I might add are very good listeners.

“Okay, the menu for this morning will require the cooperation of both you and the oven Stove. You will be in charge of cooking the eggs and turkey bacon. Oven, you will have the most important duty, Muffin detail!”

With the debriefing done, I preheat the oven and get to missing the muffin batter. I’m trying out a new recipe Mrs. Smith somehow slipped into the paperwork I last filled out. I don’t know how she knew or did it, but I’ll have to thank her later. The recipe is an Apple Crisp Muffin, using the more tart Granny Smith apples. Interesting. In short order the batter is mixed and the apples diced and covered in cinnamon sugar. Pouring the mixture into the muffin pan, I make sure to not add to much so that once the apples are added mid-bake, the batter does not leak to bad. That done and placed into the oven I stare at the coffee machine, willing it to percolate faster. Soon the red light turns green and a mug is poured. Sipping the brew I sigh.

“Now I’m awake. Stove, its show time. I think I can use you without burning the place down.”

On queue I have two pans warming on the stove and a bowl of eggs all seasoned and mixed. The rest of the breakfast comes together like a well-oiled machine. The apples get added, the muffins and bacon don’t get burnt, and Spike comes out with a hungry, yet happy look on his face.

“What smells so good?, I’m starving.” His stomach growling in ascent of his comment.

“This would be Saturday brunch my young friend.” Sweeping my arm across the counter laden with goodies I continue. “We have a veritable smorgasbord of delights. Scrambled eggs with cheese, fruit salad, apple crisp muffins (baked fresh), bacon, and of course, toast. Now go wash up, your bed-hair is enough to scare grown men.”

A glare and grunt of affirmation are all that I get as Spike heads off to tame his hair. Meanwhile I set the table for two. I pause, its weird. A little over a week ago I was only ever cooking for myself. I hardly ever sat at the table, preferring to eat in front of my computer or just leaning against the counter. Why does this feel normal and my old way abnormal? All I can do is shrug and blame growing up with a large family. Whatever the reason I brush it aside as Spike renters the kitchen.

“Better, now grab a plate and eat up. Remember this is both Breakfast and Lunch, hence ‘Brunch’.

Filling his plate he looks up at me, “There some special occasion for this? I mean cereal would have been fine. Why all the effort?”

Already sitting down, I set the mug in my hand down and turn my head to him with a small smile on it. “You see Spike, I found when growing up that nothing helps cure a lousy nights sleep and ‘issues’ the night before like a hearty breakfast.” While I’m talking spike carries his fully loaded plate to the table and sits down. “Speaking of which…..” My face taking on a more somber expression, “How are you doing? You seemed really upset last night.”

Swallowing he mouthful of eggs and taking a drink of the milk he finally replies. “I’m better. Fine actually. I realized something last night while I was crying. I can’t do anything here. There’s no magic and I don’t know enough about how technology works to even consider using science to get home. So basically crying and worrying won’t do me any good. I need to make the best of what I’ve got and when…

“Don’t you mean if?” I interject on reflex.

“No I mean WHEN Twilight comes for me, I’ll be ready to leave. Twilight let me know that she is working on solving this. I’ve never known anypony more dedicated to tasks as her. If she says she will find a way to get me home, she means it.” Taking a bite of the muffin he continues. “Good muffin. Not Sugar Cube Corner’s quality, but not bad none-the-less. “

Taking his segue as a silent ‘drop it’ I go back to my breakfast. The silent meal continues until I finish my plate, Spike is still only halfway through the mountain of food he had grabbed.

“Once you finish Spike, its time for the task of the day. As you know, you start school Monday. With school, comes a litany of necessary items. Items, which we must go purchase today. So after you’re done, go get ready. I’ll handle the kitchen and package the leftovers up.”

A nod of his head and he goes back to shoveling the food in. I myself getup and start packaging up the leftovers. He drops his plate into the sink and goes to get ready, I load the dishwasher and wipe down the counters. He’s done about the same time I finish washing my hands.

“Give me a minute so I can go grab my keys and phone, then we’ll head to the mall.”

“Mall?” he asks, “What’s a Mall?”

Thinking, I guess he doesn’t have anything like that, or at least that term, where he comes from. “It’s basically a large shopping district that’s all under one roof. You’ll understand better when we get there.”

Grabbing the two items from my desk we head out the door and to the car.

While the city is large enough to have a college and a decent downtown shopping area, its not large enough for a mall, which is why we have to go to the next city over. The drive itself is quite; Spike spends most of it looking out at the sprawling farmland on either side of the road. Its normally only a 15-20 minute drive, but this time it took almost 45 minutes. Spike insisted on stopping at one of the road-side produce stands and get, in his words, some “Real fruits and vegetables”. I didn’t mind to much though, I actually like the produce the local farmers have.

Farmland gives way to houses and houses to stores. Then, to the two story sprawling complex that is the local mall.

“Wooooooow. I don’t think I’ve seen a bigger building other than the castle. Is this really a shopping center?”

Chuckling I park. “Spike,” with the Jurassic Park score playing in the back of my head, “Welcome, to the Westfield Mall.”

Walking into the entrance, while I go over the list in my head, I see Spike’s head turning left and right in rapid succession.

“Watch yourself there, do that any faster and you’re liable to get whiplash. Now pay attention. While most of the items are generic school supplies like pencils and notebooks, we need to get you some clothes that,” looking over him, “Actually fit. Then you’ll need some shoes, a jacket, and some other assorted items.”

“That sounds like a lot and like it will take some time to get made. Can we really have it ready for Monday?”

I look at him with a raised eyebrow. “No worries on that. Nothing we get today will be custom tailored, we’ll just need to find your size and then get a few of each, maybe vary the color. It’s rather simple.”

Shrugging his shoulders, “Whatever you say”.

A short walk later and we enter “Generic Department Store number 1”. Spike stops and stares.

“Wait till I tell Rarity about this place. She’ll totally flip and be so jealous!”

Putting my hand on his shoulder I guide him to the young men’s section. 30 minutes later we have: three pairs of jeans, two pairs of gym shorts, seven t-shirts, one pair of khakis, one button-up shirt, three pairs of shoes (dress, regular, gym), and a heavy fall jacket. Thanks to coupons, sales, and Spike not being to picky, it’s not as expensive as it looks. Both of us carrying the bags we leave the store and head to just wander the mall. I think it’ll do Spike some good to experience it before school. Don’t want him to be to “out of it”. After about an hour we head for the food court for a light snack and drink.

“Spike, why don’t you sit here”, gesturing to an empty table butted up against a pillar, “with the bags while I go get us something. You good with iced tea?”

“Sure, thanks.”

He sits down and I set the bags I was carrying down on the floor next to the pillar. “I’ll be right back.” I head for the shortest line to get our snacks. I start going over the list, again, to make sure I didn’t miss anything when my thought train is interrupted.

“Well, Mr. Hall. Its nice to see you and young Spike out and about. Also, from the looks of things, you’re getting him some needed school supplies and clothes. Very good.”

“Gah”, I exclaim, caught off guard. How does she do that? More importantly why is she hear? Is she following me? “Good afternoon Mrs. Smith. Sorry about that, I was caught up in my thoughts and didn’t notice you there.” Of course I didn’t notice her, she’s like a freaking ninja.

“That’s alright, I didn’t mean to surprise you. I just noticed the two of you shopping and thought I’d say hello.”

“Ah, so what brought you here today, you’re not following s are you?” I ask with a bit of jest in my voice.

She chuckles, “Oh dear no, we have people for that. I walk the mall every morning to stay healthy in my old age.”

The conversation pauses as I order and collect the drinks and small munchables. “Well, Mrs. Smith it was nice seeing you, but I need to get back to Spike, you understand.”

“Indeed I do. Say hello to Spike for me. Oh, two things. The first is that a clothing and school supplies stipend should arrive in the mail in the next week. Secondly, when you see the recipe I gave you, add the apples about a third way through the cooking instead of halfway through. They come out so much better. Good day.”

Did she know I made them? Is she psychic? “Thanks.”

I head back to the table when something she said comes to the forefront of my mind, “people for that”. Wait, they have people whose jobs are to follow people? I start looking around, everyone over a certain age looking suspicious. This is an uncomfortable revelation. I get back to the table and we share some small talk over the food. With it done we leave the mall, our task completed. A quick stop by a Big Box Store to get the notebooks and such, as well as a spare key, and we’re done. A less than quite drive back as Spike recounts the glories of the mall.

“Sounds like you might be a burgeoning ‘Mall-rat’ Spike.”

“Mall what?”

“American saying for someone who enjoys going to the mall and just window shopping.”

“Your language is weird.”

The drive is uneventful and the rest of the day goes quickly, mostly with Spike reading through more of the spare textbooks I have lying around. Dinner is a simple but filling affair. Both of us sleep much better that night.

The next morning dawns as a tranquil Sunday morning. No drama, just a leisurely pace. I finish some general book keeping work and stroll into the TV room to find Spike watching the BBC.

“So, whatcha watching? Top Gear?”

“Nah, something called ‘Dr. Who’. Kind of interesting”

Not being much of a ‘Whovian’ myself, I have no idea about the show. “That’s good, I’ll let you finish that then.” I head out to my study to watch TV in there when Spike calls back to me.

“You know what’s funny? The Dr. reminds me of Doctor Whooves, Ponyville’s resident timekeeper. Its something about the way he speaks and acts. I guess it’s kind of like that ‘Q’ guy in that show the other day.”

“Yeah I guess.”

The rest of the day is uneventful. I give Spike a copy of the house key and written instructions on which bus to take back from school. I make both our lunches. We both call it an early night. School starts at an early 7:45 AM, so that means the both of us need to be up by 6:00 AM or so. This is going to take some getting used to.

“BEEEEEEEEEP”

“BEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEP”

“BEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE…”

I smack the alarm clock to turn it off. It’s too damned early. Begrudgingly I get up and go wake Spike up. He seems to take getting up this early about the same as I do; guy after my own heart. Breakfast is a wordless affair, well other than intermittent yawns. By 7:15 we’re in the car and heading for school.

“Okay Spike, got to cover a few things before I take you to the school’s office. First thing is they believe you have amnesia, so hopefully there won’t be many questions about your past.”

“Makes sense. I mean I can’t really tell them I was a dragon two weeks ago. They’d think I was either crazy or pulling their leg.”

I nod in agreement, “Yeah, its convenient, but try not to slip up. Secondly you have the key I gave you correct?”

“Yup, got it right here with which bus to take home.” And he pats his pocket to indicate where it is.

“Good, good. Now I’ll be home about 5:30 or so. School gets out at 2:30, so you’ll get home around 3, 3:15. There are some leftovers in the fridge if you want to grab a snack until I get back. I assume you know the rest, don’t talk to strangers, yadda, yadda, yadda.”

“Yeah, Twilight made me memorize a list of like 50 things not to do when going home from somewhere.”

We pull into the parking lot, park, and then head into the building.

“Something’s never change.”

“What do you mean Drew?”

“Oh, I was just looking at the school. It hasn’t changed at all since I went here. I bet they haven’t even updated any of the rooms either.”

This has us both chuckling for some unknown reason, which we stifle once we enter the office.

“Hello, I’m Drew…”

“Hall, I know. I might not have seen you since your mother’s retirement dinner, but I still recognize you.” The elderly lady behind the secretary desk interrupts me. I’m a little surprised that she’s still working here. I mean Mrs. Fritz was the secretary here when my mother started teaching like 40 years ago.

“It’s nice to see you Mrs. Fritz. While I’d like to catch up, I’m just here to drop,” gesturing to the young man next to me, “Spike here off for his first day at this school. It also relieves me to be leaving him in such capable hands.”

“Oh you flatterer, you haven’t changed a bit. Buttering me up won’t get Spike there any extra late passes.”

I smile sheepishly, busted.

“But I do know about his, and your, unique circumstances from the forms you filled out and child services faxed over. Don’t worry; we’ll take good care of him. Now why don’t you head off to work and tell your mother I said hello the next time you talk to her.”

“She’s actually going to be in town for Thanksgiving, I’m sure I can convince her to swing by and catch up some.”

“Oh that would be lovely. Now take care.”

I turn around and with a backwards wave I take my leave, “See you after school Spike”.

“Later Drew” is his only response as the door closes behind me.

My workday is busy, but it’s a good busy though, not the “I want to kill myself” crazy busy, but more a never have a chance to look at the clock busy. It doesn’t take long at all for 5:00 to roll around and like clockwork, I’m home at 5:30. Entering the front door, I thankfully find Spike sitting in the TV room watching some show narrated by Morgan Freeman.

“Sorry to interrupt your show, but it looks like you made it back safely.”

Looking up from his show, Spike waves at me and smiles, “Hey, welcome back. Work okay?”

“Yeah, same old same. So, how was your first day of school?

“Good I think.”

Ushering him into the kitchen with me I start to grab the items for dinner, “Why don’t you take a sit at the table and tell me about it while I get dinner ready.”

He sits down and starts to recount his day. “I guess I’ll start with being introduced to the teacher and the rest of the class.”

Earlier that day…

A green haired teen is seen walking down the hall lined with lockers, an elderly woman by his side guiding him. The only sound other than their footsteps are the muffled noises of teachers and students in the classrooms. The woman is the first to break the silence, turning her head to the young man.

“Now Spike, you scored high enough on those placement tests to fit into our accelerated 8th grade classroom.”

The boy looks confused, “Accelerated?”

“Yes, but its not by much though. The course work is only a quarter ahead or so. We found it lets the students who want to learn, learn.”

“That makes sense.”

“Now, the class is smaller than the others, only 9 students, you’ll be the tenth. Also, unlike the others, you will move as a group since each class outside art, music, and phys. ed. is accelerated a little. Got me so far?”

Spike, who has been nodding the entire time stops, turns his head, and gives and affirmative, ‘Gotcha. So which classroom am I in?”

Mrs. Fritz, the woman showing Spike to the room, stops herself and looks at the number on the room they’re in front of. “Oh dear, it looks like in my ramblings we walked right by it.” Pointing two doors down the woman prompts the young man to follow her. “This is the classroom. Now Ms. Leah will be your teacher.” She holds her hand up to stop a question forming on the student’s lips and knocks on the door. A female voice on the other end answers, “Come in”. With that, the secretary pushes the door open and escort’s Spike in.

“Oh, Mrs. Fritz, is this the new student?” The teacher gestures to the teen next to the elderly lady.

“That’s right Ms. Leah. I’ll leave him in your care.” And with that the secretary takes her leave, closing the door after her. Spike decides that the floor has been inspected enough and takes in the classroom. It’s not big or small, but just the right size for a smaller class. 10 desks are spread out in a rectangle with a central larger worktable. The Teacher, Ms. Leah, is a woman in her late 20’s with a bright smile and long hair that you can’t quite tell if she’s a blond or a redhead. Turning his eyes to the students he sees a mix of kids his age. Almost an even split of boys to girls, with him evening it up. The teacher speaks again, drawing everyone’s attention.

“Now Spike, welcome to my class. As you’ve most likely been made aware, I am Ms. Cheryl Leah, please call me Ms. Leah though.” She motions for Spike to join her in front of the black board, to the left of her desk. “How about you introduce yourself to the class then they’ll do the same.”

Nervously, with his hand occasionally scratching the back of his head, Spike beings. “Hi, my name is Spike McDreugan. I….uh…don’t remember much of my past so, I’m…um… staying with Drew Hall until it comes back. Its, uhh, ncie to meet you all.”

Theres a smattering of gently clapping by the students out of habit. Spike looks around and then back at Ms. Leah, as if to say what next? She takes the queue and with a gentle clap of her hands gets the classes attention. “Now students, why don’t you introduce yourselves to Spike and say a little something interesting about you.

“Wait, Cheryl Leah? I went to school with her. I didn’t know she was a teacher, or teaching at the middle school.” I interject as I set dinner onto the table

“Ahem” an irate teenager interrupts my interruption.

“Oh, sorry, that was rude of me, continue.”

With a good-natured glare, he starts talking again, “As I was saying…”

Ms. Leah’s eyes scan over the students locking on two boys sitting in the back corner, chuckling away at only a joke between the two of them. Raising her voice to get their attention, “Why don’t we start with the two of you in the back corner.”

A lanky boy and pudgy boy stand up and look at each other before speaking.

“I’m Doug,” the lanky one states.

“and I’m Dane,” The pudgy one finishes.

Putting their hands on each other’s shoulder, “We’re cousins!” they both say in unison, breaking out in chuckles again as they sit down. An exasperated look crosses the face of the teacher but is quickly vanquished by her cheery default expression.

“Thank you. Now why don’t we move counter-clockwise around the room.” Gesturing to the girl sitting in front of the two cousins, Ms. Leah nods her head and the girl stands. She is a brunet of average height for one her age. Glasses adorn her face. She speaks with a hint of New England in her voice.

“My name is Silvia, I moved here a few years ago when my mother became the Dean of Students at the college.”

Finishing she sits back down and the girl in the front row, shooting a disapproving look towards Dane and Doug stands. She is wearing an ankle length designer dress and has her long blonde hair done up in cascading curls. Holding it back at the top is a gemmed hair band. Standing there she radiates an “I’m better than you” atmosphere. She speaks with a haughty tone to her voice.

“My name is Diana Richards, my family has been in this town since it was founded and own most of the buildings in the down town area.”

She sits back down with an air of finality; her arms crossed in front of her and chin slightly pointed upwards. The brown haired boy to her left rolls his eyes and stands up. His clothes are a slight mystery, sporting a pair of slacks and what looks to be a 19th century tunic. He flashes a toothy smile, which appears to reflect the overhead lights with a glint.

“My names Peter, but my chums call me Pete,” a light British accent peppers his speech , “My parents moved here from England last year so my father could teach history at the college.”

With a slight bow and a motion as if tipping a hat, Pete sits back down. The seat next to him is empty, Spike assumes it will be where he will sit. The next desk over sits another guy, this time a gangly looking boy with a longer unkempt head of sandy brown hair. Dressed in a more standard t-shirt and jeans he speaks with a slightly higher pitched voice and rather fast.

“Hi, my name is Frederick, but you can call me Freddie. My parents teach art at the college. My father teaches photography.”

Just as quickly as he spoke he’s back down in his seat. Moments later the girl behind him gets up to introduce herself. While not as plainly dressed as Silvia or as fancy as Diana, she is wearing a pair of capris with a pink blouse. He straight black hair brushed to a lustrous shine that takes on an almost purple or pink tone as the light reflects off her shirt. Her voice is crisp, clear, and loud.

“My name is Isabelle, my father is a traditionally trained opera singer and now teaches voice at the conservatory.”

She seats herself and smiles. The next student to stand is almost an antithesis to Isabelle. Her beat-up skater shoes match her worn and slightly torn jeans. Her arms are covered in bandages, but remarkably her t-shirt, featuring skateboards and BMX bikes is in pristine condition. Her sandy-blond hair is cut short and with a defiant look in her eyes she finally speaks.

“Call me Sam and one day,” she takes a more defiant pose, “I WILL join the X-games!”

With that she poses. The teacher coughs a little and sheepishly, Sam sits back down. The last girl gets up, a freckled redhead with hair in a ponytail. Wearing a flannel shirt and jeans, she gives a very “country” vibe. He voice only cements that.

“Hi, mah names Angela and,” turning towards Diana, “mah family owns and runs Bloomfield Orchards jus south o town. Because of the farm we helped found this here city.”

Diana shoots a death glare back at the country girl who just smirks and sits back down. It doesn’t take a genius to sense the animosity between the two of them. Clapping her hands again the teacher breaks the tension. Then with a wave of her hand points the newest member of her class to the empty seat next to Pete and Freddie. Spike sits down and shakes the offered hands of the two boys next to him.

“Let me know if yah need any help there chap. I’ll be glad to lend a hand.”

“Thanks Pete, I may take you up on your offer depending on how much I remember.”

The exchange over, Ms. Leah returns to the center of the classroom and lessons resume. Just as the secretary said they move from language arts, to science, to history, to math as a group. Lunch comes and goes with a few odd looks directed at Spike, notably because of his odd green hair. He pays it no mind having been raised as a “one of a kind” creature where he comes from. Finally the first of the three non-academic classes arrive, art. The ten students of the accelerated class merge with another class and take seats at large tables arranged in rows in the wide-open room. Spike sits with Freddie and Pete, the only two people he’s talked to really thus far.

“BONG BONG BONG”

The bell chimes and then an eccentrically dressed man in his mid 40’s comes from a supply room pushing a cart full of inkwells, pens, and parchment. He surveys the room and focuses on our green haired protagonist. Depositing the cart in the center of the room, he turns towards Spike and begins speaking.

“Well young one, I’ve not seen you in hear before. Could you be the new student mentioned during the morning staff meeting hmm?”

All eyes no on him, Spike can only nod in ascent.

“Excellent, excellent. Well it is a pleasure. I am Mr. Stephan Magnes, please call me whatever you like.” Looking closer at the young man’s hair the teacher continues, “ What a delightful shade of green. What did you use to dye your hair?”

Running his hand through the aforementioned hair, Spike answers truthfully, “Its, um natural. I was born this way….I think”.

“Fascinating, truly fascinating. But it matches you so well,” turning away from the puzzled teen, Mr. Magnes addresses the entire class, “Now my burgeoning artists we continue our lessons in the art of calligraphy. Please get a pen, inkwell, and some parchment.” Turning to spike once again, “For those who are unfamiliar with the art, you may also take on of the reference cards.”

The entire class gets up and collects the required supplies. Spike grabs one of the reference cards as do Dane and Doug. Once everyone has gotten their items and retaken their seats, the teacher walks up to the board and writes the goal of this period., speaking it at the same time.

“Students, today you will be using calligraphy to write a letter. You may address it to whomever you like. Be it a character from a drama, a book, or a loved one. Take your time, but know that this isn’t language arts so grammar and spelling will not be judged. Now onwards to art!”

Taking that as a call to start, each student dips their pen and begins the task. Spike references the card and notices that each letter is the same as he was taught from a young age. Dipping his pen he begins, addressing his letter to the first name that comes to mind.

“Dear Princess Celestia….”

One page of clear and crisp text gives way to a second and then to a third; his practiced hand recounting the tale of the past week, omitting his past as best he could. Spike loses himself in the writing as time slips by. He is a dragon again writing a letter for Twilight about one of her most recent friendship escapades. He is so swept up in it that he doesn’t notice the astounded looks on the faces of his tablemates at how fast and accurate he is working. Only when a shadow is cast over his fourth page and a pleased hand lands on his shoulder does he snap back into reality.

“My dear boy have you done this before? I will be astounded if this is your first time writing this way. And so fast. I dare say you write faster than I.”

The eyes have once again turned to him, the teen can only shrug his shoulders, “I’m not sure sir. I have amnesia so I don’t remember to much of my past. This just felt right. I can’t really explain it.”

“Intriguing. Hopefully your memory does return in time,” gesturing at the pages the teacher continues, “May I?”

“Um, sure I guess.” Spike stated flatly, which was all the affirmation Mr. Magnes needed as he scooped up the papers and called the class up to the display board where the pages were now pinned. The teacher went over the pages with the rest of the class, using them to illustrate differences and other such things in each student’s own work. Only Spike and an elegantly dressed young woman did not go to the board. The former being to busy being embarrassed and the latter shooting the former death glares while crumpling up her own page of near flawless text.

“BING BING BING”

“Well young ones, our time together is at an end today. I do hope the lesson has been enlightening. Now off you go to your next class.”

The class does just that. The next period is music for the entire 8th grade. Every student is required to participate in Band, Orchestra, or Choir. The latter being the dumping ground for any of the students who do not want to play an instrument. Of the members of Ms. Leah’s class, Sam, Doug, and Dane are in the band. Sam playing the various drums and the two cousins putting their hot air to good use on trumpet and trombone. Silvia and Diana both were raised to play a stringed instrument, Diana the violin and Silvia the cello, so they were in the orchestra. Angela herself had been taught by her grandmother to play the fiddle and had taken to the violin quickly, which much to both her and Diana’s chagrin placed them in the same music class. The remaining four, Spike included, were in the Choir. Isabelle, trained by her father was a soprano. Freddie, voice cracking and everything was a warbly baritone. Pete had a rich baritone, with a hint of bass, but like his friend, suffered from a minor vocal crack. Spike was the oddity. As the new kid his voice was an unknown.

Entering the classroom, the four found the teacher, a heavy set African American woman in her early 40’s. He size belied her voice, a bright alto that resonates throughout the room, showing her years of work in the craft. Seeing the new, green haired student she smiles broadly.

‘Well you look to be new honey. I’m Mrs. Rivers, the choir teacher for the district.”

“Nice to meet you mam,” he replies.

She laughs a little, “such a polite child. Now, since you’re hear you either can’t play an instrument or like to sing, so which is it?” she was not one to dance around a subject, so she went straight to the point.

“Well, I don’t particularly like singing, but I think I know how to play an instrument, my memory’s a bit hazy” He adds the last part hesitantly as he does know he can play one, but his amnesia excuse needs the hesitation.

“Well darling, what instrument do you ‘think’ you can play?”

“Piano…….I think.”

“Well, why don’t we find out” and she points at the piano in the room. “You can either play what’s on the stand or anything that comes to mind.”

Spike seats himself and begins to stretch his fingers, thinking about what to play. He decides to go with a jaunty tune he performed with Pinkie Pie once. Closing his eyes and adjusting his position some he begins to play the jaunty western tune. He plays from memory, letting his fingers do the talking. Once again he slips into being a dragon again and playing for his friends. He finishes the piece and opens his eyes back to reality. The room is quite and then applause.

“Well dear, looks like you CAN play the piano. Hazy memory or not, looks like somethin’s there under the surface. Now,” gesturing to the sheet music on the stand, “don’t you try playing one of these”.

The class continues with Spike playing some on the piano, but mostly with Mrs. Rivers directing the choir as they worked on the songs for the winter concert. Time passes and the bell rings signaling the end of the period. For Ms. Leah’s class, PE is the last class of the day, but we will omit that due to the shear embarrassment suffered by Spike when he did not know the rules of Basketball.

“And then we all got changed, the bell rang, and I took the bus back here. I got home, showered, and then you came home while I was watching a show on parallel universes.” Spike finally takes the opportunity to take a bite of the cooling meal in front of him.

“Sounds like you had an exciting day. Lets finish dinner before it gets any colder. Also you probably have homework of some sort to do correct?”

“Yeaph,” comes a response spoken through a pile of food. Spike swallows, “I mean yes.”

The days pass much the same, getting nightly updates about his school; helping him with homework; making lunches; sleeping in on the weekends. It’s become a new habit and feels almost normal. His art classes eventually turned from calligraphy into embossing into soft metals, which he isn’t as good at. Says he tends to use to much strength and punches holes in the metals. Choir really turned around for him. Mrs. Rivers now has him playing the piano for their practices, lets her focus on adjusting the voices and saves Spike from having to sing. Some days he goes and hangs out with Freddie and Pete after school. It’s good that he’s made some friends.

“Beep Beep BEEEEEEP”

My alarm goes off on a Wednesday morning signaling a funeral dirge. It’s the start of a short holiday for both the college and the schools, but yet here I am still getting up at 6:00 AM. I’m letting Spike sleep, this is my sisyphean task to complete. I donned my robes of battle and went to the front, my trusty weapons at the ready. Then I cleaned. I cleaned the house like the dogs of hell were nipping at my heels. No corner was left unvacuumed. No surface undusted. The wood and tile glowed, reflecting the lights overhead. The noise had awoken Spike. He came out of his room with a puzzled look on his face.

“Why are you cleaning everything so obsessively? I haven’t seen this level of paranoia since the last time the Princess visited the library.”

I pause, looking up from the stain I am currently assaulting, “My parents will be arriving this morning. The house MUST be clean!.”

“Its just your parents, besides this is your house,” he states blunt as always.

“That’s the problem. As much as the paperwork says that this is my house, it isn’t”

“Come again?”

“I was raised here. This is my childhood house. No amount of paperwork can tell my subconscious that this is my house now. It will always be my parents. A house they kept spotless for company.”

“DIIIING DONG”

The doorbell chimes. They’re early.

“BAARRRK WOOOF”

And they brought the dog…

Side Story 1: Dimensions and Dragons

Side Story 1: Dimensions and Dragons

Lets step back from the horror of the holiday season to a simple Saturday morning a week and a half before Thanksgiving. Spike and I were having a nice breakfast.

"So," putting down my mug after taking a long sip, "Why did we have to get up so early on a Saturday again?"

Finishing his mouthful of food the green haired lad answers, "It's One in the afternoon. How is that early? Also, because you agreed to chaperone the trip to Bloomfield Apple Orchards and its today?"

"Ones still early for a Saturday," I sigh, "Right, the parent teacher conference Thursday night.

"Well that covers Spike's performance and behavior in class," The strawberry haired woman says as she closes a manila folder on her desk. "Now I have a question for you Drew."

Putting on my best lady killing smile (which to say is lacking), I snark back. "Why yes I am single"

"...You've not changed at all since high school. The answer, like then, is still no." We both laugh. "Now, we have a field trip this weekend to watch the Bloomfields make fresh apple cider and the other chaperone had to canc..."

"No. Sorry. No can do."

"I suspected you might say that," a cat-like smile appears on her face, "I guess I get to use this."

I gulp, "Use what?"

Her faces goes full on predator. "duct tape, baby oil, girl's locker room, pictures, home coming."

"What?...How? ...Who?" I sigh defeated, "Mac told you didn't he?" She nods her head. "bastard. I'll do it. What time do I have to be there?"

The serene smile she always wears returns to her face, "1:00 PM Saturday"

I finish the cup of coffee and morning muffin in short order. Spike had already finished his morning assault on the citizens of the breakfast kingdom and had dropped his plate into the sink. I follow suit.

"Well," grabbing my keys, "Lets get this show on the road."

The drive to the orchard was a short one since it really was just located outside of town. Spike for once was quite, he spent the entire time staring out the window in his own little world. I let him. Besides, I had my own things to consider. Mainly on how to pay Mac back for telling Cheryl about that. Though I have to say, the scenery on the way to the Bloomfield's hadn't changed since the bonfires held there during football season back in high school.

We pulled into the long driveway and headed around back to where I was told the rest of his class would be waiting. Looking at the yard I remember that all of the Bloomfields had complained about mowing it. Can't say I blame them. Who wants to mow a three acre front lawn? I park next to the other cars and look around.

"Hey Drew, look", Spike gestures, "The rest of the class is over there."

Looking to my left where he's pointing I see some kids, Cheryl, and a guy I easily identify as Mac Bloomfield. Not that its hard. Not many six foot 4 inch guys out there. Even less that are built like a plow horse. There was a reason he ended up being an all state tackle. Smirking, I remember a weakness of his.

"Okay, lets head on over."

We both get out and head for the group. Spike runs ahead and begins to talk animatedly with two of the boys. I'm glad he made some friends. I wave at Cheryl and Mac.

"Well, Mackenzie, it’s been a while. How’s the farm?"

I see a younger girl, who had to be a Bloomfield snicker at my use of his full name. Mac shoots a glare at her and then an even worse one at me. Cheryl, to her credit keeps a straight face.

"Y'all know I hate when mah full name is used. Only mah parents and granny ever use it." Regardless he still extends his hand. I shake it. "Still its good to see yah. Glad tah here yah moved back to town."

"In truth, its good to be back. The East Coast was just way to damned crowded."

"Drew, I'm happy you were able to make it. When Freddie's father had to cancel I was afraid we'd have to cancel." Cheryl shoots a thankful smile towards me.

"Wait, why? I mean you have," I stop to count, "What, ten children here? Why do you need an extra person when Mac and his sister will be here?"

A fourth voice cuts in, "That’s cause Mackenzie and I need tah work the cider equipment and don't have the time tah watch the kids."

Mac shoots a glare at his younger sister. Two years younger than him, she's the middle daughter of the Bloomfield family.

"Well Annie-Jane, its nice of yah to join us." Mac retorts and I snicker. Annie-Jane is obviously flustered.

"Yah know I prefer AJ."

"And you know I prefer Mac. Now we're even." Mac then punches me in the shoulder, "And now you and I are even as well." We all laugh, but still, even a play punch still hurts from Mac.

Cheryl clears her throat in a very teacher way. AJ, Mac, and I shut it and turn to her. "Well, now that everyone is here shall we head into the cider barn?"

"Eeeyup." Mac replies with his go-to word.

"Very good. Now Drew, if you could stay behind the students and make sure none of them wander off I'd appreciate it."

"Gotcha". And we head over to the chattering students.

AJ claps her hands together, "Okay y'all, I'm Angela's older sister AJ and this here big galute," she points at Mac, "Is Mac, our older brother. Now the two of us are gonna show y'all how we make our award winning cider." She turns around and waves her arm forward, pointing towards the barn. "Follow us."

Like trained soldiers, the students fell into line, with Angela at the front walking next to her siblings, Cheryl in the middle, and myself taking up the rear. The barn doors were already open, but creaked as I shut them when Mac asked me. I swore I overheard AJ say something about oiling, job, and then smacking Mac. The wall to our right and in front of was covered by the well used cider equipment. The left wall had stacks of barreled cider and buckets of fresh apples. Mac grabbed two of the larger buckets, one under each arm and carried them to a wooden table by a large press.

AJ clears her throat and begins to explain. "While Mac here gets us some apples I'll go over the basics o' cider makin." She walks over to a large tab with a vice press on top of it. "This is the cider press. The same cider press we've used fer the last hundred ought years. Something not a lot of places still use. Most switchin to an electric press. But we believe in tradition an quality."

She moves on to a large metal pot on top of a large stove. "This here is the pasteurization stove. We use it ta kill bad bacteria an such in the cider before we barrel it."

She points at a spout that connects the large pot to another device. "When the cider cools we open the spout ta let it flow into the final filter where we remove any of the pulp or anythin that got through the press."

Mac sets down a large barrel underneath the filters. "Now Mac 'ere just placed a 100% homemade barrel. Its made o' wood from this here farm's apple trees. When ever we lose a tree to a storm we convert it inta a barrel ta use fer the cider operation. It helps ta preserve and enhance the flavor of our cider."

She walks back to the barrels of apples, "Now kids, why don't y'all come over 'ere an help me load the apples into the press."

All of the students oblige her, accept for two girls. Both look bored, but one of them has a look of distain on her face. Based on what Spike has told me she has to be the Richard's daughter. The rest eagerly toss apples into the press while AJ supervises. Mac climbs a short ladder to the top of the press, where he can operate the presses large corkscrew.

"Okay y'all, the press is full. Now Mac up there will turn the lever to start pressing the apples and getting their juice out. Now I'd have y'all help him 'cept for the fact that it normally takes two full grown adult ta do it. Mac 'ere can do it himself though."

With a nod of her head, Mac begins turning the press. Slowly the press-plate lowers pulping the apples as it goes. "If y'all look 'ere y'all will see the juice start ta flow outa the spout here," AJ points to a spout on the side of the large press where juice is starting to flow out of. "and inta a barrel." The juice begins to cascade out of the press and into the open-topped barrel. The process continues for a time until the press-plate can't go any further.

"That's good Mac. Now you get yerself down 'ere and pour the juice into the pasteurization pot." Mac gets down and complies, hefting the heavy barrel as if it were nothing and dumping its contents into the large cast iron pot. AJ gestures at the press. "Now we try an use all of the bits of the apple." She pulls out a large mesh grate covered with the flesh and pulp of the apples. "These bits here we turn inta our apple preserves and applesauce, but our granny handles that part of the process. Fer now we just scrap it off into a metal pot and she'll take care of the rest." She waves her younger sister up who begrudgingly begins to scrape the pulp into the pot. "Still gotta door yer chores sis." The class all laugh.

AJ lights the wood stove under the pot, which begins to heat up. "Now this part of the process takes a couple of hours since we don't want ta boil the cider, just kill the bacteria." The kids exchange nervous glances.

The girl I identified as the Richard's daughter speaks up, "Does that mean we have to stay in this barn and watch the cider cook until its done?"

Mac releases a deep chuckle, "nope."

"Mr. Bloomfield is correct Diana. We won't be waiting here. The Bloomfields have setup a tour of their farm until the cider is done. Now lets all file outside and wait for the Mr. Bloomfield to bring the tractor around." Mac leads the way out, followed by Cheryl and the students. AJ hangs back to talk to me.

"Hey sugar cube, yah mind hanging 'round here an helping me setup something for when the kids get back?" She bats her large green eyes at me and I can't help but agree.

"You know, even after almost a decade you still know how to convince me. I have one request though."

"What'd that be?"

"A couple of bottles of Bloomfield special reserve Hard cider."

AJ chuckles, "sure, now we're doing the football special."

I smile knowing what that means. "Bonfire?"

"Bonfire."

And with that we head over to the packed dirt fire pit and begin to setup the bonfire and the needed seating. I can see the tractor and its cargo heading towards the orchard and creek beyond that.

The late fall sun is setting as the tractor pulls back up. The students are talking among themselves and Cheryl is chatting with Mac. The fire has been prepared and just needs to be lit. This is where the football special comes in. They don't light the fire in a traditional manner. The four adults help get the kids down from the trailer and usher them towards the benches, stumps, and other assorted seats.

"Now I hope y'all had a good time with Mac an Ms. Leah, but now its time ta taste the fresh cider." Gesturing to the wood and tinder, "an we know no better way than in front of a roarin bonfire." She grins as she pulls out a small electrical device. "And know, we lite it." She pushes the button and a small explosion erupts from under the tinder, igniting the bonfire. She points to a table of various baked goods and the aforementioned cider, "Now enjoy the fire and help yerselves to tha vittles."

The tweens dig into the food like they've not eaten in days. I myself roast an apple over the fire while nursing a large mug of the fresh cider.

"So Spike, you enjoying yourself?"

The lanky green haired boy still looks at me and nods, "Yeah," he lowers his voice to keep the rest from over hearing, "It reminds me a lot of home. I miss it."

"I understand, but try not to let it dampen your evening. Now head back to your friends. We can talk more later"

He nods his head and goes back to the other boys. After a time I hear someone sit down next to me and a large hand on my shoulder, "Mac."

"Drew." He takes a long draft of the cider, "Yah know, I never thought of you as the kind of guy who'd be good with kids." He pauses, considering his words, "But from what Cheryl an Angela say bout you and that Spike kid, yer doing a mighty good job."

"Thanks Mac. Even if I've not staid in touch, its good to hear that from a friend."

I take a drink of the cider, "Yah know, AJ's still single if in yah want to try again." I spit out the drink, choking a little on it.

"Wha...what?"

"Ah know it didn't work out in high school, but yer older an wiser now. Sides, I think AJ's still carrying a torch fer yah" I think Mac notices my discomfort, "I saw how she was lookin at yah. Same way she used ta look atcha back in school."

"Um...Look at the time..." The honking of a horn draws all of our attention as the parents have started arriving to pick up their children. "I guess thats my queue to leave." I get up and pat Mac on the shoulder, "Good talking to you." I get Spike and he says goodbye to his friends and we head back to the house. Once again he's quit the entire way.

Sitting down for a light, but late dinner I finally get a chance to read the newspaper. Spike is still caught in his own thoughts. I set down the paper. "Penny for your thoughts there Spike."

He sighs, "Well, I've been feeling this way all week, but today really cemented it."

"Cemented what?"

"Cemented the fact that I know most of these people already."

Very confused I respond, "Come again?"

"Yeah, everyone in my class, even Ms. Leah and the Bloomfields are almost exact copied of ponies back home."

I can only sit there. Not knowing really anything about his friends back home. Then a thought occurs to me, "Maybe that’s because they are. Or a version thereof."

Now its Spike's turn to be confused. "How?"

"Well, there was this show on years ago called Sliders where some people moved between parallel universes, where the people were the same, but some things were always off. Maybe its the same case, just...more extreme?"

Spike can only really shrug, "Its as good a theory as any." He goes back to eating.

I grab the paper to go back to the article I was reading, when Spike stops eating again, this time dropping his spoon.

"I know that hand!"

"Hmm?"

"That hand, the one pictured on the front page of the section."

I turn the paper over to see the picture he's talking about, skimming the article. iHand prototype stolen...disappeared from lab...investigation into the staff..."Oh, I remember seeing an article one one of the science websites I visit about the iHand itself. Shame that it was stolen. Guess you saw it in an article as well?"

Spike looks excited, "No! I've actually seen it in person!"

"Huh?"

"Lyra, that human obsessed unicorn I told you about had this show up like 3 months ago." He visibly bounces in his seat, "I even heard Pinkie call it the iHand before"

I've seen Spike spit green fire and produce a letter from thin air, this doesn't even register on my weird-shit-o-meter anymore. "Well, I guess if a whole dragon could suddenly show up here, I guess its not to strange that a piece of technology from here could end up there. But you said it's been there for months?"

"Yeah"

"Thats weird, it only disappeared earlier this week"

Once again our shared default response to this all, a shrug, is Spike's only response. "Wait...PINKIE! If the iHand and note can get through, than maybe..." He gets up and rushes the mirror in the hall, "Come here Drew."

I follow him, "What's up? Why'd you run off all of a sudden?"

"I'm going to try an experiment!" He crosses his fingers, "Now Drew, what I'm about to tell you is a secret."

I raise an eyebrow, "...okay..."

"I made a Pinkie Promise to never tell anyone about this, but I feel its safe to tell you."

"Pinkie Promise?"

"Its a promise that if broken is the fastest way to lose a friend..."

"FOOREE..." The sound of the strange voice and of something hitting a window startle me. I turn to where Spike is looking.

"What the hell!? Why is there some strange woman with pink hair staring at us from inside my freaking mirror!?"

"PINKIE!!!!!" Spike screams. "It worked!"

As Pinkie rubs her nose and face, which had ran into the glass she speaks, "Owe, that hurt." She looks at her hands. "oooooo I have fingers!", Hearing her name she turns towards Spike. "Spike, is that you?"

"Sure is! I knew your unexplainable ability to show up whenever someone goes to break a Pinkie Promise would work."

"Oh my god, we need a party! Just wait till we get you back home and everypony will be happy again! Twilight is so worried and so is Rarity!"

"She is!?...I mean they are?"

"Oh Twilight has been son torn up the past weeks. She's barely slept and been working on spells with both Princess Celestia and Princess Luna to try and get you home." She begins to push against the glass, "Now let me get out of here, grab you, and we can go home."

"Home..." Spike murmurs. Me, I'm doing my best to stay sane. Its not working very well. I'm also starting to wonder if Mac slipped anything funny into my drinks...

She pushes and pushes, but doesn't go anywhere, 'Thats weird, I can't get out of this mirror. I've never been unable to do that. This place is strange..." Her hair begins to be pulled backwards by an unseen force. "oops, looks like my times up. See you laterrrrrrrrrr"

"Tell everypony I'm okay and that I miss them!" Is all spike can get out before a sucking noise begins to come from the mirror. With the noise, the pink haired woman vanishes as if she wasn't there in the first place. Spike puts his hand to the mirror and I can see small tears running down his face.

"That...was...weird" I usher Spike to his bed, the events have seemed to take a large toll on him. I head for the kitchen to break open one if the bottles of hard cider I got from AJ. I need it.

Dragon my heels

With a resigned shrug I stand up while yelling, “Be right there!” towards the door.The stain will just have to stay there.

“So, umm…” Spike pauses, “Where should I go?I mean it’s your family….” He trails off while rubbing his left arm with his right hand in a nervous fashion.

Gesturing to the back room, “Why don’t you wait for us in the family room.”I straighten my shirt, “I’ll get them settled, but don’t be surprised if their hound pack comes to greet you.”A shrug of okay and he heads into the designated room and I move the floormat to cover the offending piece of floor.A few steps later and its show time.

I open the door and am suitably pounced on by small bags of fluff and energy.Reaching down, I pick the smaller of the two up, “It’s good to see you to Squirt”, I scratch his head as the Pomeranian rests their happily.I turn to my parents, “It’s good to see you as well.I’d give you both a hug, but my hands are full.”My father chuckles and my mother rolls her eyes.I step aside, “Come on in”.I set the dog down and both him and Dudley, the other one, sniff the air and book it.The sound of an oft-used doggie door flapping shut confirms my assumptions.I shake my head, “I’m glad the two…well, four, of you could make it.” I cast a sidelong glance at the table of family photos that does not go unnoticed by my mother.

Hanging her coat on the nearby rack she smiles and gives me a quick hug, “I know you wanted your brothers to come as well, but”.I interrupt, “I know they have their own families and lives.”I take another wistful look at the pictures, “I was just hoping we could have a large family Thanksgiving like we used to.”She hugs me again, “Oh, honey I know.”The hint of sadness is evident in her voice.My father clears his throat, “How about we go sit down before continuing the pity party?”The doggy door’s flap sounds again as the fur-missiles lock on to their next target.“GAH!” Spike screams as anything else is muffled under the assault.“I’ll have to agree with that” I respond, “It sounds like the dogs have found our guest.”

Passing through the kitchen, I grab drinks for everyone, handing the soda to my mother and the beer to me father as we go.Sitting on the couch is Spike, who is currently occupied with two dogs bathing his face with their tongues.“A little help here” he calls as we sit down.“Don’t worry, it’ll be over shortly” I respond.As if on cue Squirt pokes his head up, hops down, trots over to the footrest of the recliner my father is sitting in, jumps up, and settles between his legs.Dudley climbs across the furniture to take up a position on my mother’s lap.“See?”

The youth shoots me a glare, “They were tasting me, getting ready to eat me!”

“No they weren’t, they just wanted to say hello”.

“You say hello, I say flavoring..”

“Since you’ve met the dogs already I’ll skip them, but” I gesture at my folks, “Are my parents”

He stands up, “It’s nice to meet you Mr. & Mrs. Hall.”He flashes a smile as best he can, “I’m, um, Spike..”

My father scans the boy up and down, “So Drew’s mentioned before.” I can see that he’s giving Spike a scrutinizing look over. “It true you don’t remember much?”

Spike’s nervousness ratchets up a bit, “Yes sir” he responds.“Stumbled around here a month ago” He scratches the back of his head, “don’t remember much besides my name.”

An eyebrow is arched, “Is that so?”

“PHILIP!” my mother yells, “You’re scaring the boy.” She turns to Spike, “I’m sorry about that.Before he retired, his job made him a healthy skeptic.”

“He’s not telling us something, I can feel it”.I see where this is going and move to handle it.“Hey Spike?”he looks anxiously at me, “You mind grabbing the bags from my parent’s car?The keys are on the table.” Leaps to his feet and leaves the room, I call after him, “Put them into the guest room please!”I throw my father a glare, “Seriously Pops?He’s a kid.No need for that.”

He shakes his head, “Look, I can tell he’s lying.He has a twitch I’ve seen countless times.”He sighs, “I don’t want you” he pauses, “or any of my boys caught up in anything…”

“I know…”It happened quicker than I thought it would, but I guess it’s time to tell them the whole story.”The thing is, he is lying..”

“He a runaway then?”

“No, it’s…..” I choose my words, “a unique circumstance.”

My mother looks concerned, “Did he come from a trouble home?”

“No.You see..”and I tell them everything since he arrived in that flash of light.I see the concern give way to confusion, and confusion to surprise.By the time I’m done Spike’s returned and leaning against the door frame, just listening.

“A Dragon?”My father asks

Nodding, I respond “From another dimension or something yes.”

My mother rubs her temples, “And this strange woman appeared in my grandmother’s mirror?” she points in the direction of where it is, “The one hanging in this house?”

“Yeaaah, I didn’t really believe him much until that happened either.

“Well I‘ll be” she states, still surprised.We sit there in silence for a minute or two, mostly letting them digest the information.

*Crunch*

*Crunch*

*Crunch*

I turn my gaze from my parents to the sound. “Spike?”

He shovels another spoon of cereal into his mouth, “What?I was hungry” he states as a matter of fact while still having a mouth full of food.

“Manners”

He swallows, "Maketh the man, I know". He shovels more cereal into his maw. “Wha…”, *Cough,cough, gasp, wheeze*Spike suddenly looks alarmed, pointing to his throa…

“Shit, he’s choking”, I exclaim as I rush over to help him.The required safety training kicking in as I apply the Heimlich maneuver to him.A few seconds later he gasps as whatever was blocking his airway shoots from his mouth.

*Gasp* “Thanks” *Gasp*, “for that.Phew.” He looks at the floor where the cereal landed, “Ugg,” he rubs his tongue, “I need to have Twilight use flavored parchment”

I look down, “Oh, another letter from home I see”.

My father points at the floor, “Why did a rolled up piece of paper come out of his mouth instead unchewed cereal?”

“Did I forget to mention that?” I pause, “Yeah I forgot to mention that.”They both nod, “Seems it’s how he exchanges messages with his friends and family back home.”

Spike reaches down and picks it up, “it’s not normally that unpleasant.”

Shooting me a we’ll talk later look, my mother speaks, “Well dear, if it’s a letter from home, why don’t you read it?”and so he does.

Author's Note

Who said necromancy is illegal?

Please note that due to the time between chapters some retconning and rework might need to be done to earlier chapters.