Mister Manehattan

As Princess Luna's foot connected with the side of his head, Spike decided that he hated Mondays.

Pain flared through his skull like lightning through water, and the nineteen year-old hit the mat with a cry of hurt. His bare shoulder collided with the rough foam of the gym's padded floor, and he curled inward, clutching his head.

Disoriented, Spike didn't register his mentor and sparring partner standing above him, frowning.

Princess Luna unwound the bandages around her fists, grimacing as she encountered more than one unsightly shade of red. "That is your third straight loss," she commented, and her disapproval was palpable. "I did not think your hibernation would be so taxing on your performance."

He groaned. "I think it's less about my hibernation and more about learning martial arts from a sadist warrior princess." Spike rolled onto his feet, wincing at the pain. His muscle shirt was drenched in sweat, and his hair hung low with perspiration. He shrugged away from his teacher's touch. "It's fine," he said, not fine. "I'm just a little disoriented."

Luna nodded, moving to a pile of belongings just behind their sparring mat. She discarded her dirty bandages and re-wrapped her hands in fresh linen. As opposed to her visibly fatigued student, the Princess, also in a muscle shirt and loosened exercise pants, was perfectly composed, free of a single drop of sweat. "Are you ready to continue?"

Spike snorted. "Is the sun going to rise tomorrow?"

The Princess smirked, readying her fists as she settled into her stance. Her student mirrored her pose.

Luna allowed the stress to wash from her body, her face blanking and her body preparing to engage once more.

Fast as thought, Spike darted forward, fists open to grapple his mentor. A blur to the naked eye, he lashed out at Luna's abdomen, seeking to knock the breath out of her. To his surprise, she didn't dodge his blow: instead, she curled into the punch, reducing the damage while locking her body around his and rendering his torso immobile, leaving his arms and legs robbed of momentum.

With one deceptively strong hand, she took advantage of his moment of shocked surprise and yanked his arm out to its full extent. Her face in a state of impassive detachment, Princess Luna delivered two rapid blows to the pit of her opponent's arm. As he cried out in pain, she pushed upward into his chest, completing the same maneuver that Spike himself had failed to perform. Breath rushed out of the young man's mouth, and he clenched onto his partner's arm in an attempt to stay upright.

Luna could only sigh in disappointment. She pried her student's fingers off of her arm and pushed him onto his back. "We're done with sparring for now," she announced. Her firm, bare foot connected with his side as she flipped him onto his stomach. "Push ups," she commanded, uncaring of Spike's groans of protest. She sat on his muscled back, indifferent.

A click of the Moon Goddess's fingers summoned a book to her hand, and the snap reverberated in the nigh-abandoned gym. The sun was on the cusp of setting, and Luna absently thought that her sister had done a more marvelous job than usual, framing the horizon in a skyline full of splendor. The great ball of fire kissed the edge of the world, blessing those fortunate enough to view it with an impression of heat and hearth.

The Princess sighed, and she barely registered the movements of her protege beneath her, even as he moved further into his count of push ups.

"On second thought," she said, patting Spike's shoulder, "that's enough for today."

"Oh thank God," he breathed, collapsing onto the mat for the umpteenth time that afternoon. He massaged his temples, groaning as he felt the tensions of the day finally catch up with him.

Luna got up from her seat on the young man's back, instead opting to sit next to him. She lay prostrate on the ground, arms crossed as she laid her head upon them. Her eyes widened in unadulterated love of the sky. Their sky.

The Princess sighed. "To think that I once wanted to do away with this...magnificence." She could vaguely feel Spike's eyes on her, watching her as they were prone to do when she was feeling particularly self-reflective. She glanced at his face, and smiled serenely when she saw the reflection of the setting sun touch upon him. His countenance was glowing, and his only thought was of her.

"I have seen many wonderful things, Spike," she said, settling into the mat next to him. "Oceans of sand, lightning that pierces the earth, strange lovers in wild places..." She chuckled. "Yet, in all my years, my bias remains the same." Luna smiled. "All the earth is a trifling thing before my sister in her summer."

Spike yawned. "Yeah, well," he said, laying his hand across his friend's back, "I hear that the nighttime skyline out here is breathtaking."

Luna smiled, though she knew he couldn't see it. "Do not think to patronize me," she murmured.

Spike was silent for a moment, and Luna thought she had offended him. Before she could open her mouth to say anything, he spoke. "Ever since I got back, you know," he said, his voice low and contemplative, "I've looked at the night sky whenever I got the chance."

The Moon Goddess blinked slowly. "Really now?" she asked, and a feeling like warmth spread outward from her chest.

The green-haired drake shrugged. "Someone asked me what I thought when I saw them, so I started thinking about it."

The Princess nudged him with her shoulder. "Pray tell, then, what do you see?"

Spike burrowed further into her, and a hand found its way over her waist. "A lot of things," he said, shrugging again. "I see diners, I see my friends." He sighed as he hugged his mentor closer to him, a kind of security blanket. "I feel the excitement in the air, I can hear jazz playing—"

"Jazz?" the Princess asked, leaning back and blinking. She seemed confused.

Spike stared at her, mouth slightly ajar and realized that, despite the time that she had been back on earth, Luna still hadn't fully come to terms with all of the changes that had occurred. Naturally, modern music wouldn't be one of them.

He grinned.

After they both had bathed, the two met in the atrium of the royal hall of Canterlot Castle.

"Here," Spike said, handing Princess Luna a pair of headphones and a small listening device. "This," he said, pausing and grinning for effect, "is jazz."

Princess Luna smiled in appreciation, though she still seemed apprehensive. She was garbed in her traditional dress-robes of the night, a sinuous dark blue garment that seemed to drift across her body as easily as moonlight. She was prepared to hold night court—which was always a brief affair, compared to her sister's—and was loath to see her student go. "What kind of music is it?" she asked, fiddling with the earbud as she placed it in her ear.

"Well," Spike said, taking her hand and showing her how to operate the device, "it's," he struggled to find the words, "I guess you could say it's a lot like the city."

"The city?" Luna asked, twirling the cord around a pale finger. The music started to flow into her ear, a slow, sonorous rhythm of lazy, bugling trumpets.

"It's about excitement and emotions," Spike explained, smiling as the Princess started to slowly spin in place. "It's about elegance and it's got a lot of soul in it. It's for the nightlife."

Luna hummed. "Nightlife. There is a fine phrase." Her eyes closed as the song picked up. It was slow and smooth, like a pleasant wine that flowed through her spirit. She started to hand the device back to Spike, only for him to insist that she keep it. "Very well, then," she said, her face full of gratitude. "I enjoy your jazz."

"I'll take you to a club sometime," Spike promised, smiling.

"Sometime," she confirmed. She sighed. "But not this time. The throne awaits." She held a hand to her student's shoulder, stroking it. "I will eagerly await our next encounter," she said, smiling sincerely.

"You know it," Spike said, beaming. He hugged his closest friend, ever conscious of her sigh and her hand.

The two of them parted, and as Spike tightened his jacket around his shoulders and headed out into the nightlife of Canterlot, he gazed toward the horizon.

The sun had set.

Luna yawned as she left the throne room. She nodded her thanks to her guards, bidding them a good night—or a good morning, rather—and refusing an escort when one was offered. Sweet as they were, Luna, unlike her sister, wasn't one for needless formalities.

She made her way through the corridor and onto the overpass, stepping out into the cool, crisp air of the infant morning.

Almost unconsciously, she reached for the headphones in the folds of her dress and brought them to her ears. Her heels and rear ached from sitting still for so long, but the last thing she needed was to stretch her limbs so early in the morning.

As she fumbled for the play button on the strange thing that passed as a phone these days, she found herself nearing Spike's suite.

She blinked. Has he always been this far down the corridor? She could've sworn that she'd purposefully roomed him nearer to her own quarters, just for safety's sake.

A monstrous sound rumbled from within the suite, and Luna had to restrain herself from darting in as she realized, in a somewhat amused fashion, that Spike was merely snoring.

I'll just check in on him, she thought, lightly pushing on the door so it wouldn't creak. She reached beneath her dress, cursing the shuffle of the fabric as she removed her heels. Carefully setting them off to the side, she padded forward on the balls of her feet, relaxing only once she reached the carpet near his bed.

The room wasn't the same as it had been when he had first gone to sleep nearly five years ago. Out of an increasing sense of attachment—among other senses—Luna had arranged for Spike to live near the inner palace, in a small, warm cottage that she knew he would prefer. It was well-heated, comfy, and only a few meters from the staircase that would lead to her own living tower.

The room was dark, to Luna's liking, and it was strong with his aroma. Already the ambient heat of the bedroom seeped through her dress and into her muscles.

She watched him as he slept. His hair was tussled, a far cry from the stiff mess it was whenever he was awake. He wore a simple t-shirt, barely visible under the dark purple covers of his circular bed.

Luna sighed, smiling tiredly as she watched her student rest. He wasn't dreaming—she'd know if he was—but simply unconscious, dead to the world.

After a time, she realized that she had been standing there for longer than was proper, and glanced backwards, her feet rooted to the spot. She bit her lip. I really don't feel like walking back to my room, she thought. The sensible part of her mind reasoned that she could simply teleport back should she so choose, but she managed to put it to bed by assuring herself that doing so would wake her young charge and rob him of his much-needed rest.

We all need our sleep, Luna thought, making up her mind. She slackened her limbs as she quietly shrugged off her dress, pulling it over her shoulders.

Moments later, she only wore a breezy, dark blue shift, and a pair of much-loved boyshorts. She repressed a sigh, glad that she had chosen not to wear a bra to night court.

She exhaled heavily as she backed into his embrace, feeling the warmth of his body press into her. Perhaps instinctively, his arms wrapped around her, as if cradling a pillow, and their bodies seemed to align perfectly.

His snores ceased, and the rumble in his chest rocked Luna to sleep.

As he awoke to the gaze of an angry Sun Goddess, Spike decided that he didn't care much for Tuesdays either.

Celestia, garbed in her traditional robes, was furious. The fringes of the white garment were smoking, while the eyes of the Princess were narrowed and flinty. If looks could kill, Spike knew he'd be a burning cadaver of a man, dragon powers be damned.

"Release my sister," she said, her voice deceptively calm.

Spike blinked. "I don't—" he started to protest, only to feel a shifting in his sheets. He cursed inwardly as a wisp of ethereal blue hair, as it had to be. drifted past his face. He struggled to tell his other boss that he honestly had no idea why her younger sister was in his bed, woefully underdressed, but to no avail.

Celestia, eyes still fiery with imminent retribution, fixed him with such a glare of blatant resentment and utter reproach that Spike simply sat, uncomprehending, before realizing her gaze for what it was. He was so unused to the idea of Celestia showing open dislike that he had never actually pictured what it would be like to be on the receiving end of it.

While her unwitting partner sat still in his bed, Luna finally came to, yawning and tugging on her partner. "Come back to bed," she grumbled, feeling a nervous tickle in her stomach as she uttered a phrase that she had longed to speak for many years.

"Luna," Celestia spoke, more than a little irritated.

The Moon Princess finally noticed the room's third occupant, and her good mood soured almost immediately. "Do you mind?" she asked, hugging a nervous Spike closer to her, her arm wrapping around his torso.

"You didn't lower the moon this morning," Celestia stated stiffly. Her arms hung to her sides, in stark contrast to her usually regal and motherly composure. "You weren't in your room, so I went looking for you." She didn't change her stance at all, neither did she alter her tone, but Spike shivered as a nigh-imperceptible note of extreme displeasure danced around her words. "Imagine my surprise when I find you here."

Luna got up in bed, frowning. "If you have something to say, Celestia, spit it out. Don't be shy."

"Oh, I have many things to say," the Princess replied, not missing a beat, "but present company requires that I filter my expressions."

The younger sister rolled onto her knees, crossing her arms and mirroring her sibling's posture. "Spike is as good as family to me. You need not take such measures for him, sister." Spike blanched behind his mentor, though he knew enough not to speak up and worsen his already terrible position.

Celestia's face warped, as if she had suddenly bit into something distasteful. "I wasn't talking about him." At Luna's surprised reaction, Celestia's hand flared with her signature aura of golden magic, and with a pop! the younger Princess disappeared from sight. Quickly, Celestia held a hand upward, narrowing her eyes slightly as a beam of light shot towards the ceiling of the room and exploded. Sparks raced over the architecture, sinking into various spots and making the building hum with magic.

Opening her eyes, Celestia turned to Spike, who was wide-eyed and frozen on the bed. "I've warded the room. There will be no interruptions from Luna now." She stalked closer to Spike, fixing him with a glare. "In the interest of fairness, I will allow you to explain, without any meddling on the part of my sister."

Swallowing, Spike marshaled his thoughts, scattered though they were. He exhaled, then spoke. "I said goodnight to your sister before her night court started, then I did some homework and went to bed." He held his hands up in protest. "My guess is, she stopped in to check on me, then for whatever reason, decided to spend the night here."

The Sun Goddess continued to eye him as he spoke, never blinking, never moving. Once he finished, Celestia cracked her knuckles. "So, you're saying that nothing came of my sister's visit?"

Spike snorted. "If it did, I'm a hell of a heavy sleeper."

Celestia did not look amused. "I will thank you not to make such crude jokes."

The drake shrugged. "Part of the charm, Princess. Can't turn it off yet."

"You seem fond of taking unwelcome liberties, as of late. Such as your informality with me." She crossed her arms.

"Luna taught me to loosen up. Does wonders for my health."

"Dragons are known for their hardy constitutions," Celestia agreed. "Suppose you simply needed to sleep it off."

Spike stared at his ruler, and felt the beginning of a biting enmity towards the Princess. The sense of aggressive attraction he felt towards Luna, even Twilight, when he was upset with either of them was nonexistent with Celestia. Somehow, he was certain that the older, taller woman felt the same way about him. "You know," he said, "when I was on my own, I used to ask myself how you would react if you were in my shoes, so I'd end up doing the right thing. I never knew 'overreacting' was on the table."

"Let me be perfectly clear, Spike," Celestia said, unfolding her arms and walking slowly to the doorway. "If I have any reason to believe that you are even the slightest bit improper towards my sister," she narrowed her eyes at him, "the consequences will be dire." She turned away from him and walked out of the room. "You may not care about disappointing me, but you would dearly regret crossing me."

The spell broke as Celestia swept out of the room, and moments later, Luna reappeared, red-faced and angry. "That double-faced harlot! Why, the next time I see Celestia, I—"

She froze as she turned and saw Spike glaring at her. The Princess winced, uncharacteristically shy. "I pray she wasn't too harsh on you?"

"Oh," Spike said, disgruntled, "she was plenty harsh. Scathing, even." He shrugged away from his mentor when she reached for him.

"I had no idea she would react the way she did, dearest," she explained, frowning. Suddenly, she felt incredibly vulnerable in her shift, though she knew that Spike had seen her in less. She held her arms in an uncomfortable self-embrace, kneading her fingers together. "Allow me to make it up to you somehow. Would you like to forgo your training today?"

But her student remained as iron. "I think you should go," Spike said, staring just below her neckline.

Luna's eyes widened as if she had been struck. She squinted, feeling her entire face burn, her eyes feeling as if acid would surely come pouring out. "I—," she coughed into her elbow, "I don't suppose we could talk about it?"

Spike got up from his bed, staring at his teacher the whole while. "I'm going to take a shower."

Luna stared at him, sobering in her melancholy. "Spike, I," she said, reaching again for his arm, "I didn't mean to get you in trouble, I swear." She swallowed. "I just wanted to be close to you."

But he was already stalking away from her, disappearing behind the door of his bathroom.

With a sigh of utter frustration, Luna gathered her clothes and left.

He was ignoring her.

Despite Luna's best efforts, Spike subverted each of her attempts to corner him and force a conversation between the two of them. She would pursue him around a corner, only to find an empty hallway and the acrid smell of smoke. She was more than capable of finding him, but catching him was a different matter entirely. The fact that she was confined to a dress only worsened her luck.

As the day wore on, she gradually lost hope of improving her situation. Her mood worsened as the hours ticked past, and she cursed herself as the day wound to an end, with no progress to show for its passing.

Sighing, Luna buried her head in her hands. "I give up," she muttered to herself, and not for the first time was she glad that the castle's activities died down during the night. Devoid of purpose and intent, she cleared her mind and started walking.

She wandered through the castle, vanishing from the common routes and remembering for herself the old ones, from when their home was new and mysterious. She meandered through passageways so narrow that she could touch both walls with her shoulders, to corridors so wide that the clack of a heel would cause a chorus of echoes. She ascended and descended countless staircases, contemplative and unfeeling. The call of the dreamscape beckoned Luna to a world only she knew, but she refused its summons, so was her indifference. Luna traveled for what felt like hours, in the endless maze that was Canterlot Castle, the sound of her footsteps her only companion. She found herself in a room overlooking the city, with the moon in prominent view over the star-studded skyline.

Then, when one became two, and she knew she was not alone, Luna turned and faced whoever had decided to follow her.

"Luna," Celestia murmured, stepping toward her sister, "where are you going?" The Sun Princess appeared to be the same composed ruler that appeared to her subjects, but Luna knew what to look for, and knew that her sister was masking an inner conflict that caused her no small amount of distress.

The Moon Princess simply blinked, unseeing, as if her sister was an apparition, an illusion to be ignored. She was in no mood for dealing with Celestia at the moment, and she had every wish for her sister to know that.

"Sister," the older sibling pressed, now frowning openly, "what troubles you? You should be resting."

"It is not for you to decide what I should do," Luna finally answered, and Celestia knew her cool remark to have another meaning, as was her sister's fashion.

"It is the duty of the older sister to watch out for the younger," Celestia spoke softly, her voice reaching across the corridor.

"A truism if ever there was one," Luna replied, breaking their eye contact and gazing out the window, into her night. "But age is not so remarkable to me these days." She crossed her arms. "Do not play this game with me, Celestia. You were never as clever as me."

The older sister chuckled in a subdued manner. "I think you will find I've improved over the years."

Luna ignored the obvious retort, that a millennium of practice would do wonders for one's performance, and instead turned to face her sister. "I understand your concern, sister, but let me make myself perfectly clear." She felt no satisfaction at Celestia's blank stare. "Regardless of what you deem wise, I will pursue who I wish. You are my senior, but I am by no means subservient to you."

Celestia blinked calmly, as if she had expected this answer. "I only wish the best for you, Luna."

Her sister simply stared. "So you say." At Celestia's silent look of displeasure, Luna continued. "However, I am not determined to oppose you merely out of spite." She turned, breaking their eye contact. "Tomorrow, I will send Spike on his first patrol of the country."

Celestia's mouth pursed in surprise. "What brought this on? Surely this isn't some random whim of yours."

Luna shook her head in the negative. "This is an eventuality that I had continued to put off. I am loathe to part with him, but I always intended to send Spike off on his own, to see how he would function in his new capacity."

"And you've thought about this?"

"At length."

Celestia frowned, shifting her weight to one leg as she cocked her head slightly. "I cannot say I am displeased," she confessed, and the corridor rang silently with quiet. "Still," she said after several moments, "I will defer to your judgment in this matter."

"You may find," Luna droned, "that doing so produces favorable results."

Celestia gracefully conceded the point with a nod of her head. She turned her gaze toward the city. "It's funny," Celestia said, hugging herself. "We're so old. I, am so very old. I did my fair share of traveling when you were gone." She sighed. "Few things make me feel happier than looking at the night sky."

Luna glanced sideways at her sister, her eyes placed mysteriously on the horizon.

She found him on the balcony.

For whatever reason, the young drake decided not to run from her. Luna approached him, her hair in a ponytail, in her same dress from earlier.

"Why didn't you run?" she asked, calmly. Her hands were folded behind her back.

"You smell different," he answered, not looking at her. He was dressed in a warm-looking parka, purple and covered with plenty of fur.

"You're always running," she thought aloud, to the mild confusion of her student. "Whether it's to something or away from it is anyone's guess."

"Do you have something for me?"

She nodded. "You start your tour of the country tomorrow. Rather, this following day."

Spike turned to her, frowning. "So soon?"

"I've kept you in Canterlot too long; it is time for you to return to the world outside and put into practice what I have taught you."

"Where would I be going?"

A grimace. "I would advise against returning to your previous home so soon, but I will not decide for you. I would, however, suggest touring Manehattan before coming back for an evaluation of your duties. It is of sufficient size to test your mettle."

"And this doesn't have anything to do with today?"

"I never said it didn't."

The young man fumed silently, his first show of emotion in hours. The show of anger oddly comforted Luna. "It's not my fault that-"

"I think that we both need some time apart," Luna interjected, frowning. She watched as Spike's gaze softened, before it returned to its former indifferent frame. She rubbed his elbow, smiling awkwardly. "We have spent a great deal of time together, and while I do not regret it," she added at his affronted look, "alternative interactions would do us both some good."

After an extended silence, Spike relaxed. "If you think it's best," he shrugged, "then alright." He didn't seem happy, far from it, but it was a far cry better than earlier.

Luna smiled, grasping him lightly on his side. Suddenly, she frowned. "You have something on your cheek."

Spike blinked. "What? What side is it on?"

The Princess shook her head. "It looks like a smudge of ash. Lean in, I'll get it for you." As he leaned in, Luna grasped him about the neck and pulled his mouth to hers.

At first he struggled. Luna clasped her hands about his face, drawing him nearer, while her reluctant partner tried to push her away without deliberately hurting her. She steadily wore down his defenses, massaging her lips against his, until his arms had slackened and he allowed her passage into his mouth. Her lips collided against his, tugging and savoring, committing his texture to memory. Her arms looped around his neck, and she absently relished the feel of his muscles flexing against her.

Spike started to pull away, only for Luna to tug him closer, their bodies mashing together. Her tongue kneaded his, even as she burrowed into his chest with her own . After giving him one last tug, she pulled away, breathing only slightly as her partner gasped for air.

The young Fire Drake leaned against the railing, eyes widened and lips bruised red. He rubbed his mouth as inhaled steadily, looking up at his mentor. He motioned at her to explain herself, as he was still trying to comprehend what had just happened.

"Forgive me," Luna said, placing a hand over her mouth to hide her smile. "Your assignment will a long one, possibly bordering on months. I had to get that out of my system."

"What about your sister?" he asked, straightening up and patting his sweating forehead.

Luna smiled, turning to face the giant window where she knew her sister was watching, possibly furiously so. "Celestia is stubborn, but she would not oppose me so openly in such a matter. Especially when you are out of her reach." She swiveled back to Spike, her gaze softening. "Now go. Be vigilant, but do not overwork yourself. See your friends, and have your fun." Her tone was more than suggestive. "You and I have many years to sort out what may or may not be, and I am not so selfish as to snatch you out of your youth."

Spike nodded, rubbing his shoulder as he glanced up at the gargantuan window that framed a great tower. "And what about when I get back?"

"You will have to take me to a 'jazz club', as you promised," she said, beaming brilliantly. Luna sighed, turning to gaze at the swath of stars that dotted her sky. "May it be the start of many magnificent nights."