A Dragon's Sweetheart

Sweetie Belle skipped out of her closet. From her chest to her hooves, she was adorned in a shimmering, flowing gown. Its purple color shined in the light of the sunset that peeked through the curtains.

Sweetie strutted back and forth across her room, taking exceptional care not to step on her CDs and dirty clothes that she was too lazy to pick up. She couldn’t walk as fast as she would have preferred. “It’s a little tight on the legs,” she said. She turned to the other mare in the room. “Uh, Babs, could you…”

“I gotcha.” The broad mare flourished a pair of scissors and kneeled down to Sweetie’s knee. She grabbed the end of her dress and carefully sliced a thin line up her leg, stopped just before her hip. “That better?”

Sweetie spun around and walked another lap, this time completely unhindered. “Alright, now we’re talking! Now that we’ve got functionality, I wanna have a look at form.” She stepped over her bed to the other side of the room, where a tall mirror awaited her. Her eyes and smile widened to ridiculous sizes as she got a look at herself. “Ooooh! Oh my glob, this is the best thing ever!” she squealed, slapping her hands to her cheeks.

Babs had a cocky smirk, as per usual. She leaned on the dresser and took a bite out of her hayburger. “Toldja my mom’s stuff’d look good on ya. She’s just ya size… Makes family pictures a little awkward, but she’s got taste.”

“Oooh, I believe it!” Sweetie jumped in place, clapping her hands rapidly. She kept looking at herself in different poses, never failing to look anything less than stunning. “Oh, just… It’d be an insult to even go anywhere with this, just snap my neck right now so I can die this pretty!”

“Hell naw, ya’ve got a hot dragon ta please tanight,” said Babs. “And don’tcha dare worry ‘bout him liking the dress. Ya could go up ta him wearin’ a trash bag and bottle caps and he’d be all ova ya.”

“Hate tah burst yer bubbles, Babs, but trash bags ain’t in this season,” said Apple Bloom, who strolled into the room with her mane in a tussle and her tank top heavily wrinkled. Her status was the exact opposite of Sweetie Belle’s. She was rough, dirty and uncomposed, and she had a bottle of apple cider in her hand. “So, what’s scale double-tail doin’ with ya tonight?”

Sweetie clenched her fists together, absolutely ecstatic for the evening that lay ahead. “Omigosh, omigooosh! Spike is taking me to a romantic dinner at the Sunset Soiree. It’s only the most exclusive restaurant for trust fund teenagers and rejects from Canterlot! He only got the reservation because he had some pull.”

“Pull?” Babs asked.

“Spike plays piano over there all the time, and he’s friends with one a’ of the place’s biggest shareholders,” Apple Bloom explained. “Basically, he can decide who lives and who dines.”

All three mares in the room burst out laughing. Sweetie held her gut as she did so, clutching her mouth in an attempt to stop. “Don’t make me do that! I’ll wrinkle the dress!”

Babs’ meaty fingers grabbed Sweetie’s bare shoulders. Her intense gaze stopped Sweetie’s laughter right in its tracks. “Hey, remember. Trash bag. Yer gonna have a magical freakin’ evenin’ whether ya look spankable or not. Ya feel me?”

“I can’t feel my shoulders,” Sweetie squeaked.

“Well, I can, and dayum, girl!” Babs released Sweetie. “You’ve got pudding in those things. What did you have for lunch?”

“Hardly anything. I’ve been prepping for this dinner all day, and that includes stomach control.”

“Guess that means your pantry’s full, for once,” said Apple Bloom. “Don’t be surprised if your carton of ice cream is gone when you get back.”

Sweetie Belle brushed off her shoulders and brushed past Apple Bloom, heading out into the hall and down the stairs. “Have at it, squatters. I’ve got two more hidden elsewhere.”

Apple Bloom and Babs followed quickly on Sweetie’s tail as she headed for the front door. She put on a pair of black loafers with one hand, undoing the deadbolt with the other. After she opened the door, she turned to her friends and bowed. “Thanks for helping me get prepped. Today was a nightmare. I can’t wait to just relax with my Spike for a little while.”

Babs folded her arms and leaned against the dining table. “It’s yer anniversary, girl. Tha whole freakin’ world should be stoppin’ fer ya.”

“Don’t mess up your hair,” Apple Bloom snipped at Sweetie. “Do you know how hard it was to make it stay like that?”

Sweetie felt the impressively smooth bun that the farm girl had spent an inordinately long time putting together. For someone with a constant bedhead, Apple Bloom had a surprising proficiency in styling hair. “I promise I won’t ruin your work. Besides, Spike has a soft spot for prim and proper mares, so I’m sure he’ll force me to keep it up when things get serious tonight.”

“Wheeeen?” Apple Bloom asked, leaning over the table and raising her eyebrows provocatively.

Sweetie sighed and shrugged. “Spike is buying me dinner at a location more exclusive than Princess Celestia’s bedroom. The dude is getting laid, trust me.”

“Yeah, well, stick it to ‘im good for me.” Babs wrapped her beefy arm around Sweetie’s neck in a near chokehold. It was her best way of showing affection, and Sweetie was thankful for it, regardless of the minor distress it caused her. She was much more appreciative of Apple Bloom giving her a tender hug and a kiss on the forehead.

“Kinda wish I was goin’ with ya,” said the farmgirl. “But it’s yer guys’ anniversary, so it’s all good.”

“I’ll convince Spike to take you out to brunch sometime soon. These fancy dinners aren’t your style, trust me.” Sweetie waved to her friends and dipped out the door. “You two have a good night!”

Apple Bloom waited until the exact second the door closed to sigh and stretch her arms out. “Alrighty, Cous. We now have free reign of a superstar’s casa. Whaddaya wanna do?”

Babs had been waiting all day for Bloom to ask that question. She lifted up the newspaper on the table, revealing a box set of Khala-Kane and the Seven Wives. “Get in our undies, order Neighponese takeout and watch sweaty Saddle Arabian dudes on the flatscreen.”

Apple Bloom pointed to the living room. “You read my mind!”

The streets of Ponyville were fresh out of a weekend of rain and wind. As such, the crisp scent of moisture mixed with pasture and apples was rather sharp that evening. Sweetie had deliberately chosen to wear loafers instead of high heels, as she had a relatively long walk to take. She remembered what Spike’s parcel had said when it showed up on her doorstep that morning.

Sunset Soiree, 7 o’clock tonight. Meet me there. Bring your pretty face.

As per the norm with Spike, he had included a blue rose in the package. The novelty of such a gift hadn’t worn off, and Sweetie had long since accepted the blue rose as the trademark of their relationship. It also doubled as a healthy snack. She took a bite out of the blue rose as she entered the town common.

Within her passing vision, she swore that every second building she passed was a restaurant that would inevitably pale in comparison to The Sunset Soiree. Then again, if Spike were there, it wouldn’t matter much where they went, but going to a high-class restaurant that even Rarity hadn’t set hoof in before was the cherry on top of a delicious ice cream sundae of an evening. It was like having her cake and eating it too…

“Flarg it all, I’m hungry…” Sweetie whined, rubbing her stomach. That would be the third perk of the evening; free dinner. On any other night, they would have agreed to go splitsies, but Spike insisted that all of tonight was on him.

Sweetie’s ear flicked. She could have sworn she heard the strum of a guitar. Her astute eyesight that she had pick up from seeking out friends and family in cheering crowds told her that her ears weren’t lying to her. But it was more than some simple street performer playing for coins or his own amusement. Something told Sweetie that this song was just for her.

“Won't you tell me what you're thinking of?
Would you be an outlaw for my love?
If it's so, well, let me know, if it's no, well I can go...
I won't make you…”

Spike sat atop a wooden sight outside the Sunset Soiree. boasting a green scale-patterned suit with an elongated coat. His leather shoes were tapping against the painted ‘S’ of the sign. He held a flame-patterned guitar in his hands, and he was demonstrating some aggressively medium skill. He was clearly better as a pianist, but he made up for this shortcoming with passion.

“Won't you let me walk you home from school?
Won't you let me meet you at the pool?
Maybe Friday I can get tickets for the dance...
And I'll take you, ooh ooh…”

Sweetie applauded to her dragon as he took a bow. “Aw, you made a song about our first date?”

“That wasn’t the initial intention, but I decided to work it in about halfway through.” Spike leaped off of the sign and set the guitar behind it. Sweetie met him where the curb met the grass and gave him a quick kiss. Much to her appreciation, and expectation, Spike took some time to admire her outfit. “Hellooo, curves.”

“I know! Don’t I just sparkle?” Sweetie stepped away and spun on her heels. “Whoop!” She flubbed the landing, her loafer scuffing against a rock and causing her to fall off-balance. Spike, being quick on the draw, dashed to her and caught her before she hit the ground. Sweetie caught her breath, realized what situation she was in, and laid her hand across her head like a swooning maiden. “Avast, my dearest baron… Do be gentle!”

“Since when am I not, my dear?” Spike asked. He tapped the small bruise on Sweetie’s neck. “Uh, this notwithstanding.”

“Oh, did I forget to mask that?” Sweetie adjusted the strap of her dress to cover up the bruise. “So… Do you still remember our first date?”

Spike folded his arms and paced back and forth. “Geez, that was a while ago. If I’d known we’d be here now, I would have committed it to memory.”

Sweetie leaned on the fence and smiled up at Spike, her head tilted, an adorable smile across her muzzle. “Well, I remember. Twilight was hosting a school dance at her castle. There was one problem, though; the rest of the Crusaders got dates, and I wasn't about to go doe while Scoots was in the corner fondling Junior Mint, and Apple Bloom was sneaking cider with Bootstrap."

"Give that kid props, he had big hooves..."

"Aha! You do remember!”

“Guess I do. But I like stories better when you tell ‘em. Keep going.”

“Right…” Sweetie tapped her fingers as she continued. “So, there I was, expecting a sad and quiet night with nopony to show me a good time. I was spending the afternoon in the boutique, helping Rarity with some dress that I would never wear. Then, well... enter the handsome prince."

"Blueblood?"

Sweetie poked Spike’s beak. "The handsome, charming, and smart prince, ya goof."

"Ah, right. Didn't I make some amazing speech to you? I think I had something written down. I waxed poetry, I swear-"

"Nah, you just said, 'You wanna go with me?' And you know what I said?"

"'I'm gay.'"

Sweetie slapped her hand to her face and laughed heartily, interrupted by a few snorts. "No, you dunderhead, I said nothing, took your hand, and dragged you to the dance. My dress wasn't even finished, but you said I looked amazing anyway."

"Well, I'm a horrible liar."

"After a few slow dances, we snuck into Diamond Tiara's pool and, uh,” Sweetie made paddling motions with her hands, “swam a few laps."

Spike was able to remember one bewitching detail that he made sure to hang on to. "I kissed you once."

"You missed. Pecked my neck."

Spike facepalmed. "Eh, crash landing is still a landing…” He pauses, lost in the memory of that magical night, cursing himself for letting it slip away, even for a little bit. He also cursed himself for not taking advantage of a perfect opportunity. “We should have skinny dipped."

Sweetie holds her arms out in disbelief. "We should have skinny dipped!"

The door to the restaurant opens. An elderly pony with a finely groomed mustache and slick hair poked his head out and waved. "Sir Spike, there you are! Will you and your loved one be taking your dinner out on the balcony, or will you be coming inside?"

"Yes,” Spike blurted out. “Err, the former, if she wants."

Sweetie caught Spike off guard by stroking his chest. "My my, Sir Spike, what lewd images you make of me. And I would like to avoid any rain, so, yes, let’s go… inside."

Spike took Sweetie’s hand and gestured to the entrance of the restaurant. “To dinner!” He pulled her along like an excited child. The last time Sweetie had seen him this giddy, it had been the morning after they left the hotel, exactly one year ago. It filled her with a warm fuzziness to know he was still this excited about her, mostly because she felt the exact same way.

“Ugh, I hope this isn’t one of those restaurants that forces you to wait more than twenty minutes for the waiter. I’ve starved myself all day for this.”

Spike eyed Sweetie Belle skeptically. “Bullcrap, you were nomming a bear claw when we left the coffee shop.”

Sweetie tilted her eyebrow. “Yeah. A bear claw.” As she took a gander at the menu, she put on a concerned frown. “Oh, sweet Celestia, tell me this isn’t one of those restaurants with the insanely small serving sizes on giant-ass plates!”

“Who would I be if I brought you to a place like that? That’s the worst sin anyone could commit. Besides, have a look at that.” Spike pointed to the table nearby, where another couple was dining on hefty bowls of salad. “People pay good money just to get in here. We’re getting what we deserve. More importantly, you’re getting what you deserve.”

“Already got it. This is just a bonus.” Sweetie narrowed her gaze as she looked over the menu. “Hm.”

“See something you like?”

“Nah, I’m just pretty sure these contacts are bunk. Where’s their soups?”

Spike looked up from his menu. “Wait, you wear contacts?”

“Yeah, since fifth grade,” Sweetie said as she poked her eye and took out a small translucent lens. “I never told anyone because I was worried Diamond Tiara would knock me down a peg. But, then again, she found a reason to mock me anyway, so I guess it was a Mareton’s Fork.” She put the lens back on. “There we are.”

Spike slapped his menu shut and set it back on the table. “Well, I’ll be damned. I just learned something new about you.”

“Ooh, in that case, you should tell me something I don’t know about you.” Sweetie leaned her chin on her hands. She ignored Spike’s blush. “Come on, come on! Fess up, buddy.”

“I… find glasses incredibly arousing?” Spike shrugged. “So, yeah. Does that count?”

“Honey, that isn’t specific to you. Come on, surely you haven’t told me all there is to tell about such a colorful, virile dragon with an all-access pass to Ponyville’s most erogenous activities.” Sweetie leaned over to Spike and tapped his forehead with her knuckles. “Hello? Anything in there? Has your memory bank gone MIA?”

Spike grabbed Sweetie’s hand and held it tenderly. “Okay, okay! I have something, but it’s a little embarrassing…” He sniggered. “And kinda awesome. Awesombarrassing. See, uh…” He looked around for any passersby. The coast was clear as could be, and the droning of diners in the background would cover up his voice. He twiddled his fingers, leaned towards Sweetie, and gently pulled her in by her shoulder. He whispered in her ear, “I’ve been in two orgies.”

“No spit,” Sweetie said, sitting back down.

“As in, ‘No spit?’, the question demanding clarification that I have, in fact, been in two orgies, or ‘No spit’, the statement that expresses your lack of surprise that I have, repeating my statement, been in two orgies?”

“Little of column A, little of column B. On the one hand, it doesn’t surprise me, on the other, you don’t really hear of such a thing outside of late-night cable.”

“And Twilight’s stash,” Spike mutters.

“Heheh, yeah.” Sweetie giggles. “Oh, that reminds me, I’ll have Fisherpony’s Wife 2: The Retenticling back to her this sunday.”

“Why not tomorrow?”

Sweetie hides her blush behind her menu. “We’re probably not gonna be able to move our legs for most of tomorrow, so why risk it?”

Spike offered his fist to Sweetie beneath the table. She bumped it softly.

Some time passed in silence as Sweetie Belle and Spike kept considering what they should order for dinner. Spike was especially impressed that the restaurant had a side menu for dragons, with gem-inclusive modifications of existing dishes. Sweetie Belle was drawn more towards the dessert menu, of course. She had restrain herself from salivating.

“If you want my personal recommendation, I’d go with the chocolate lava cake,” said someone behind Spike and Sweetie. The both turned their heads to see a svelte young pegasus with feathered black hair and a smooth white coat. He wore a peacock jacket over a slimming waistcoat. “Hey.”

“How’d you get in here, Rumble?” Spike asked.

Rumble folded his arms. “Spike T. Dragon! I am very disappoint! Is it so hard to believe that I might not have a shot at getting into an establishment as luxurious as this?” He then shrugged and leaned on Spike’s chair. “The answer is yes, actually, because I’m on a date. She’s just powdering her face at the moment, not that she needs to, and I had overheard Sweetie’s voice clear across the room.”

“I’ll be quieter…” Sweetie said, shying away a little.

“You’ll do no such thing,” Spike said. “And who’s the lucky fella?” he asked Rumble. “Are you still seeing that rich dude from Trottingham? Whatshisname? I liked that guy.”

Rumble shook his head. “Nah, Whatshisname went back home. I’m actually with somepony of the female persuasion tonight. You might know her. Go ahead, take a stab at it. No hints.”

“Silver Spoon?” Sweetie guessed.

“Nope, she’s at a convention,” Spike said. “What about Diamond Tiara?”

“Why does everyone assume I’m out with the two hot, incredibly open-minded models…?” Rumble trailed off, blinking a few times. “Huh. Just answered my own question.”

Spike took another guess. “Flitter or Cloudchaser?”

“Out of town,” said Sweetie Belle. “Caught ‘em at the train station when I came home from Trotfest.”

“Them, I would have taken here,” Rumble admitted. “They’re on the fast track to joining the Wonderbolts, and they deserve it. So, you give up?”

“Yeah, we give. So, who’s the lucky girl?” Sweetie asked.

“Yo!” As if serendipity had heard Sweetie’s question, the mare in question came strutting in with a glass of wine in one hand, flashing bullhorns with the other. Vinyl Scratch looked elegant in her cocktail dress, but she did not act the part. The scarlet cowboy hat on her head was an especially bizarre addition. She pulled Rumble close to her with one arm and said, “I was wondering where this one ran off to!”

“Just saying hello.” Rumble gestured to Spike and Sweetie, who each received a hand slap from Vinyl.

“Hey, yo, wassup. Sweets!” Vinyl pointed to Sweetie Belle in an exaggerated fashion. “Glad I ran into ya, cause we gotta talk business.”

“Is now the best time?” Sweetie asked, her expression turning dull.

“Don’t worry, I’ll be quick. Y’know that orchestral electronica album we discussed? I’m sending you another track next week. Do with it whatcha will, okay?”

Sweetie brightened up quickly, showing a thumbs up. “Oh, awesome! You’ve got it. I’ve actually, uh, been considering having Spike get involved on the project. If that’s okay with you.”

Vinyl cooed and slid on over to Spike’s chair, brushing his spines and squeezing his shoulders. “Sa-sa-sensational! Have you heard this bro’s chops? If you can listen to him sing for more than five minutes without your panties burning a hole through the floor, I’m sorry, but you need to get your plumbing checked.”

“Classic Vinyl,” Spike muttered with a blush. “I’ll try to keep my set to four minutes, fifty-nine seconds max.”

“Ah, mild arousal. There you are. We’re gonna sell like hot cakes!” Vinyl drummed her hands on the table. “What are you dudes drinking tonight?”

“White wine spritzers,” Spike and Sweetie said at the same time. They gazed at each other, smiled, and held each other’s hand. “Awww!”

“Awesomesauce. They’re on us,” Vinyl said.

Spike fell back in his seat a little bit. “Woah, wait. You—”

“‘Aw, Vinyl, you’re too nice! You don’t have to do that! It’s not worth the trouble!' Oh, shut up in advance. You’re getting drinks for free, because I’m super rich and generous. Deal with it.” Vinyl wrapped her arms around Rumble’s back, her head leaning against his. “It was his idea anyway, so throw your disingenuous hate at him for trying to be nice.”

Sweetie clapped her hands together. “You’re too good to me, Vinyl. Recommending me for your label, and now this?” She bowed. “Respect.”

“That won’t be the end of it, I promise,” Rumble said. He tilted his brow as he looked up at Vinyl, just now noticing the cowboy getup on her head. “Where’d you get that hat?”

“What hat?” Vinyl felt her head and took the hat off. “Didn’t have that on when I went into the bathroom.”

Spike patted Vinyl on the shoulder. “Clearly you’re thinker than you drunk you are. Best get out of here before you collapse.”

“Way ahead of you, kid.” Vinyl kissed Rumble on the cheek, albeit in a drunken, sloppy sort of way. “Let’s get out of here, buddy.”

As Vinyl pulled on Rumble’s wrist and dragged him away, he dug his shoes into the carpet to say one last thing. “Just put her name on the check. She’ll cover it.”

“Don’t leave me hanging!” Vinyl pulled even harder, her hands slipping off of Rumble’s arm. “This is a limited time offer!”

“I find that hard to believe.” Rumble straightened out his waistcoat, fixed his collar, and lead Vinyl away. “See you later, fellas.”

Spike waited until the glass door closed behind Rumble before he spoke again. He snickered as he said to Sweetie Belle, “He’s like that dorky kid with the crazy, perverted fantasies that all came true. And I’m not gonna lie, I’m actually glad for him.”

“Really?” Sweetie asked.

“Yeah, I mean… That poor kid was completely aimless. Didn’t go out often, wouldn’t stick around at a party for more than a few minutes, and he couldn’t hold down a relationship to save his life. Now he’s finally coming out of his shell.”

“I dunno. Seems a little off to me.” Sweetie stroked her chin.

“How so?”

“I know that some kids have a tendency to break away from their awkwardness, but never this quick. I’m a little suspicious. But, then again…”

Spike completed her thought. “The same thing happened to both of us, remember?”

Sweetie looked over the room in consideration and, after a few seconds, nodded. Before she could reply, the waiter had come over. “Oh, hello!”

“Our apologies for the wait, madam and sir,” he said in a posh accent. “There was a situation in the lavatory that had to be resolved.” He picked a bit of glitter off of his suit. “I will now take your orders, if it would please you.”

Spike tapped his menu. “We’ll both have white wine spritzers, and I’m feeling in the mood for a diamond quiche.” He smiled at Sweetie. “And for you, doll?”

“Chocolate lava cake, and make it messy.” Sweetie licked her lips as she handed both her and Spike’s menu to the waiter. “We thank you very much.”

“Nothing of it, madam. We’ll have your meals to you posthaste.” The waiter jotted down the word ‘messy’ on his notepad and took the menus, walking away with his muzzle pointed firmly upwards. Sweetie tried to pay no mind to the bits of glitter lining his waistcoat and pants.

“I dunno what’s going on in the bathroom, but I think I’ll be better off not knowing,” said Sweetie. She put her hand on the table, and Spike laid his over hers, giving her a gentle squeeze. They remained that way in silence for another few minutes, as they mulled over a few stray thoughts that didn’t need to be said. Although, there was one thought that did come up vocally. “Wait, did you say Silver Spoon was at a convention?”

“Yep.”

“She has a pool.”

“She does have a pool.”

Sweetie tapped her fingers together. “Ooooh, that lava cake cannot come fast enough.”

“As opposed to you, my dear,” Spike japed.

The two fistbumped again.