A Thief in the Night

by Abramus5250

Rating: mature
Tags: Romance, Original Character, Porn, Spike, Sex, Human, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Alternate Universe
Length: 16254

On the night of the annual Grand Galloping Gala, two very different people from completely different walks of life meet in a small shop. It will be an experience that they will remember forever.

Canterlot Castle, home of the annual Grand Galloping Gala. From all over Equestria they come: the rich, the powerful, the famous, and all between, all enjoying lavish lifestyles afforded to them by their wealth or connections. Many wish for a chance, just one chance, to be invited to such a party, yet few, if any, are ever chosen.

However, this year, unlike others before it, will see something different occur. A single woman, born to a low-end family, will be ensnared by a kind man unlike her in many ways, and yet filled with a kindred spirit that connects with her own on so many levels.

This is the night that will change their lives forever.

Many thanks to Mr101 for letting me use an OC of his in this story, as this story just so happens to be a birthday present for him. Also, a great many thanks to beirirangu for being such a wonderful proofreader, editor and collaborator. Without either of them, this story would not have been possible.

Published 2015-02-11 17:10:02 UTC
Last updated 2015-02-11 17:10:02 UTC

A Night Unlike Any Other

A Thief in the Night

The Grand Galloping Gala was always a sight to behold for any citizen of Equestria. For the lower classes, it was a chance to apply their skill and sell goods to whoever attended, as it brought countless citizens from all over the country to the capital, and even some from places farther still. For the uppermost class, it was a time to mingle, to visit with other rich people and share their views, gossip, discuss business, and, in many cases, make deals that would normally have had to be done behind closed doors.

It was also an opportune time for some of the more disreputable members of society to ply their trade; specifically, thieves. Now, any simple thief could learn how to pickpocket rich people in a crowd or on their way to an event, especially if they were young when they started. However, to truly make it big in the world of thievery, one needs not only the skill to steal, but the drive to do so, and the experience wrought by years of training in areas one might not expect.

That was where Delilah “Moondancer” Fulsome came into play. Having been born into a lower-class family in Canterlot, she witnessed all the wealth that the nobility seemingly flaunted, while her family struggled to make ends meet, what with her being the youngest of five children. As such, as soon as she could walk, she learned to run, and from there, she took to the streets, trying to find ways of making ends meet for her family. It wasn’t long before she turned to thievery, and yet, no matter how good she became in the few short years she plied her trade, and no matter how much of a blind eye her parents turned towards her ill-gotten gains, she could tell it wasn’t the life she wanted. She wanted more than just simple trinkets and baubles that could feed her family for a few days; she wanted something to keep them set for months, or even years. She wanted her siblings to be able to go to college and make something of themselves, even though she was the youngest.

After yet another narrow escape from the law as she neared her fifteenth birthday, Delilah was “picked up” by a strange woman who ran an antiques business uptown. As it turned out, this fair lady used to be a professional cat burglar, one of the finest in all of Equestria. That was, until she took a nasty spill on an icy winter’s night, resulting in an injury that would leave her with a noticeable limp and some back problems. Unable to continue her lucrative work, as Delilah found out, the madam took up selling items of value to earn her keep, but was always having trouble finding new wares.

So, as soon as she turned sixteen, she took the code-name “Moondancer”, and was under the tutelage of the former burglar in the art of professional thievery. She soon learned and excelled at gymnastics, martial arts, stealth and persuasion, amongst other skills. Five years of training flew by before she went out on her own, and soon found her job to be both incredibly lucrative and exciting. Many of her less iconic grabs were sold through the madam’s store, which often had rather strange, often foreign clientele seeking rather unique items for exuberant prices. The daily things, however, were often simply sold out in the open, as, more often than not, rich people, with closets miles long, would never realize that a fur coat, a mink scarf, or even a silk dress was stolen, as they had upwards of fifty each.

As her skills in the art increased, so too did her reputation. Wrought from years of hard work and unbridled determination, she soon learned to pick locks with the simplest of items, contort her body to free herself from any binding, and soon enough, bamboozle all but the most determined of policemen into giving up a chase. With the madam’s word a sign of protection in the more undesirable circles of the criminal underworld, Moondancer rarely had to deal with any unsavory characters, and even then, most were taken care of quickly. It paid to have an ally or two in the police force, though this was the madam’s doing, not her own.

For several years, things were relatively easy; with the money her parents believed was made through "mostly" honest means, and although they never asked her about it, she was able to help them send her siblings off to college. It was a place that she knew, in her heart, was not right for her, and as of now, her two older sisters were studying to become doctors, while one of her two older brothers was well on his way to become a successful businessman. The other, barely a year older than herself, was entering the police academy, and although she was proud of him, she worried that someday he might become aware of her antics, and call her out on it, in front of the whole family, or worse, have her arrested.

That was why, for the time being, anyway, she decided to no longer sneak into the homes of the rich and powerful, and make off with the belongings that would never be missed. No, now, on this warm summer’s eve, she had decided that simple pick-pocketing would be a more suitable way to spend her evening. Besides, even with her good looks, she dressed rather simply in one of the madam’s old dresses, and as such, made it look as if she was simply a gal out on the town that night.

The same night that the princesses just so happened to be hosting the Grand Galloping Gala. It was a night meant for those who were either exceedingly wealthy or were just good friends with the princess. Seeing as that latter category was incredibly small, it fell to the elite of Equestria to attend, and they did so, in style. So, from all corners of everywhere, even as the sun continued to set in the distant sky, they came.

The local airports were often filled with private jets from all over, some of which were ferrying rich sheiks all the way from Saddle Arabia. Closer to home, but no less mesmerizing, were the limos that shuttled rich people from the airport to the capital city and the castle; movie stars, big names in sports, politicians, and the richest of the rich. Family empires built on the labor of others, be it in steel, concrete, or lumber; oil magnates and their entourages, political activist with their swarms of fans, and countless paparazzi that seemed to pop out from every shadow, every space in the crowd, every crack in the sidewalk.

For those like Moondancer, had she been so inclined to make the effort this time, this was the night that could make or break an entire year of planning. So many limos were robbed during this time, and yet most of the public, even the rich people inside them, were none the wiser to their missing belongings. Countless hours of planning could also mean arrest and imprisonment, or worse, especially if the intended victims just so happened to be surrounded by those all-too-happy to put some bruises on one’s face.

Perhaps that’s why she decided that tonight, she might as well try to enjoy herself. The streets of Canterlot, at least in the more upscale parts surrounding the castle, teemed with life; it was almost like Christmas, to be honest. Businesses were practically overflowing with people out and about, especially those that served food to the hungry masses. All over the streets, celebratory banners flew, flags were held high, and countless limousines passed by, often stopping at one high-end clothing store after another. The streets were almost traffic free, with the more plebeian cars being shunted off through alternate routes so that the rich need not feel the burden of everyday traffic jams.

Even though she’d come from very humble beginnings, and was more or less set on continuing her career as a high-end cat burglar, Delilah had to admit one thing: she loved Canterlot. From the high rises, to the small industrial center near the waterfalls, to the bustling suburbanite fringes, and all the manner of commercial districts scattered throughout the city; it was her home. She’d always wondered, though, as most people did, about the interior of the one building she’d never thought to target, never stolen from, and never even set foot in: Canterlot Castle. Even in a country where the term majestic could be used to describe just about anything, the castle itself was something else entirely. It didn’t even seem real in the right light, as if it were a mirage, a mirror image of something out of a fairytale.

Moondancer yearned to go inside it one day, to gaze upon what she could only think of as magnificence unparalleled. Yet, she knew that such a thing was likely impossible; it was almost unheard of for random people to walk into the castle, seeing that there were fair, but strict rules about that sort of thing. That, and, more often than not, the princesses were far too busy to allow for visits from friends, and those, in and of themselves, were few and far between.

Still, one could hope, and hope she did.

“Just pull up here, Spike. We’ll meet you inside in a bit,” a woman in a purple dress said as she quickly checked to make sure her makeup was still in order. “Don’t worry, we won’t forget about you like last time."

“Like I haven’t heard that one before,” the young man muttered as he parked the limousine alongside the curb. As six of his closest friends exited, amidst a swarm of paparazzi, he pulled away and began to look for a parking spot. Seeing as all of the “better” spots were taken, and the limo requiring a large parking space indeed, he drove off, away from the Gala’s entrance and off into the city.

George Drake Pendragon III, or “Spike” as his friends called him, has been a friend to the Sparkle family since he was very young. Having come from a proud, but rather obscure lineage of knights, reaching almost to the very founding of Equestria, he’d almost immediately become close with the young Twilight Sparkle, and as such, had been more or less adopted by her family upon the untimely death of his father when he was very young. With the care of his estate left with Princess Celestia until his twenty-fifth birthday, as she’d been his father’s presiding employer, the young man took on the role of not only being young Twilight’s aide and confidant, but one of her truest friends. Through many dangers and toils they overcame, often emerging the better for it, alongside their innermost circle of friends.

Yet, for everything they’d been through, for everything they’d accomplished, “Spike” was only ever seen as a tagalong by those outside the group. He was merely the help, the one who served Twilight Sparkle’s prestigious family with as much grace and dignity as he could muster. This assumption couldn’t be farther from the truth; yes, he did things like that for Twilight and their friends, but because he was their friend, not their manservant. Seeing as he did little else with his day, he more or less did what he did to make himself useful, and sometimes, to stave off boredom. You’d be surprised how bored one could get if you were just left with watching television for most of the day.

So Spike did these sorts of things for his friends, like go shopping with them, help them with whatever they were doing, even shuttle them around in a limo. Of course, that meant that the upper crust of society would naturally look down on him, but he was okay with that; in doing so, they’d avoid him, and that meant he avoided being bothered by those who sought favor with Twilight and her friends.

Still, such a life wasn’t without it’s drawbacks. Occasionally his friends would make mistakes, as anyone did at some point, mistakes that would usually paint him outside their circle of friends, as a manservant. Granted, they would apologize profusely afterwards, and he’d forgive them very quickly, but he’d never forget it.

That’s why, this night, even though they told him that they’d wait for him, he knew in his heart that the six ladies would likely be off somewhere else in the Gala, again, leaving him all by his lonesome. To be honest, this wouldn’t be the first time it’s happened, and seeing that he’s greatly matured since the first time, or so he hoped, being alone at the party wouldn’t be so bad.

That, of course, meant that he’d likely be barred entry if he didn’t present his invitation. Luckily for him, he practically sew it to his forearm to not to forget it, like he did that one year. Those palace guards were such sticklers for protocol, they wouldn’t even let him in with Twilight telling them he was with her and her friends. It even took Princess Celestia herself to tell the guards to admit him before they finally let him pass, and even, he’d felt their eyes following his every move the entire evening.

“Stuffy pricks,” the young man muttered as he pulled into the fourth parking lot he’s tried, this one, thankfully, having an empty spot the right size for a limousine. “Feel like their life depends on everyone being watched around the clock whenever they get near the castle. You’d think after being raised with Twilight’s older brother that they’d recognize me. I was practically attached to his hip when we lived here, or at least before Twilight and I moved to Ponyville.”

Putting the vehicle in park, and making sure all the windows were closed, Spike stepped out and straightened out his suit as best he could. It was a gift from Rarity, custom-made for events like these, so, naturally, he’d do his best to look his best in it. Yet, it was because he was a friend of Rarity’s, and not that he had a crush on her, that made him do this. Being her friend was more important to him than his childhood fantasy of becoming her perfect man, something he realized years ago, would never work out. He hadn’t given up on the dream, he just simply outgrown it.

That in and of itself opened a whole new door to life he’d been ignoring at the time. With his focus off of trying to win the fair lady’s hand, he could turn his attention to other matters, and before he realized it, he was able to ask girls out on dates with an almost alarming frequency. Turns out that pining for affection from a woman several years your senior really teaches you how to deal with rejection, which in turn really boosts your confidence with those you had never noticed before. His relationships were never long, though, and it wasn’t because he was some crude snob who’d “hit it and quit it”, as Pinkie Pie would say, but because many ladies merely wished for a casual dating experience, at least in Ponyville. Someone to hang out with and talk to for a few weeks, become friends with, maybe even share a secret or two with, but in the end, being together forever just wasn’t in the cards for any of them.

“The right one is out there yet, I know it,” the young man muttered, straightening his tie and checking his hair in the limo’s side view mirror. He never liked his hair too long, simply because it became an unruly spiky mess, no matter how much Rarity tried to make it otherwise before events like this. So, keeping it short ended up being both easier to style and far less of a bother to clean up when need be; no need for literal quarts of styling gel to somewhat mold it into a “proper” hairdo. “I just haven’t found her yet is all.”

Locking the limo and glancing around, Spike spied several pairs of cameras watching over the parking lot. Then again, this was in front of a rather ritzy hotel, likely where some of the more distant visitors were staying, so the cameras, wrought-iron fences and occasional guard patrolling the premise showed he need not worry about the car being vandalized or something. Still, it payed to be cautious, and as he left, Spike made sure one last time that the limo was indeed locked.

Feeling at the invitation in his suit’s breast pocket, the young man slowly made his way back towards the castle, a good few blocks from where he parked. Normally he’d have parked much closer, but that would’ve only happened if they arrived earlier, but the time it took for his six friends to get ready, costed them well over an hour. Not that he minded, of course; just so long as they got there in time, and safely, they could’ve taken as long as they liked.

Stopping at a crosswalk, he paused; there was a faint scent wafting on the summer’s breeze. Off to the side was a small bakery, and seeing as he hadn’t eaten since breakfast, the scent of freshly baked goods made his stomach rumble; his mouth tingle with anticipation.

“I guess it couldn’t hurt to stop in for a little bite,” he said, turning away from the crowd and worming his way to the small bakery. “It’s not like they’re actually waiting for me. Even so, I could stand to get there “fashionably late”, as Rarity would say.” Judging from the bakery’s decor, it had to be an old bakery, likely over a hundred years old, built at the height of the immigrant influx into Equestria. Yet, for being quite possibly a local landmark in its own right, what with being so close to the castle and all, it was still in very good condition, and carried with it a charming, homey feeling, like it was something out of a comfortable dream or memory.

Then again, one of the most likely reasons it was still open was because Princess Celestia was very fond of sweets, and if this bakery’s stayed open for this long, then surely it must’ve had some fantastic goodies behind the counter. As his stomach rumbled slightly again, the young man slowly pushed his way through the door, causing a small set of bells hanging near the ceiling to chime softly through the store.

Once inside, there was a rush of aromas that quickly collided with the young man’s nostrils. The wafting flavor of sweet cinnamon buns, juicy apple strudels, chocolate chip cookies, raspberry pies, and sweet molasses collided with countless signature breads; garlic, parmesan, rye, and pumpernickel, to name a few.

Glancing around, Spike noticed that the line to the counter was almost nonexistent: only two people ahead of him. Quickly taking a number from the little ticket counter, which looked positively ancient, he waited, wondering just what he should get.

“Apple strudel sounds good, right about now. But then again, so does a cinnamon roll,” he muttered as the man at the front of the line received his order. Moving ahead slightly, he now waited for the young woman to order.

“Um, excuse me, I would like an apple strudel,” she said, her soft voice barely carrying over the dull roar from outside.

“That’ll be $2.50, dearie,” the elderly woman said from behind the counter, her kind face belying a nature as sweet as her baked goods.

Rummaging around in her purse, the young woman frantically began to sift through what looked like receipts and statements. “I... I don’t think I have that,” she muttered. “I... I can keep looking, just give me a moment—”

His inner sense of chivalry taking hold, Spike stepped forward. “Add it to my bill,” he said, calmly glancing towards the young woman. Young, indeed: she was probably only three years his senior, yet it barely showed. “In the meantime, I’ll have the same.”

“Well, aren’t you the gentleman?” The baker loudly whispered with a smile, turning away to retrieve their orders. “It’s been a long time since I saw such a nice young man offer to pay for someone else’s order. Are you two, by chance, together?”

“What?” The younger woman asked, startled out of, what might’ve been, a case of her staring at her savior for longer than she should’ve. “Um, no, I... I can’t say I’ve ever seen you before, kind sir.”

“Well then, let me introduce myself, my name is George Pendragon. But my friends call me Spike,” he said, offering his hand.

Gently, she took it, surprised at how firm yet soft his grasp was; a gentleman’s grip. “My name’s Delilah; Delilah Fulsome. Though my sisters call me Moondancer, sometimes.”

“Moondancer?” Spike asked as the baker returned. “Where’d they come up with a name like that?”

“What kind of name is Spike?” She replied as she accepted the strudel from the kindly baker.

He simply pointed to his hair, accepting his own strudel and paying for the both of them. “Got the name when I was younger; friends came up with it after I’d let my hair grow out a bit more than this. It gets really spiky, hence the name. Now, how’d the name Moondancer come about?”

“I’ll tell you... if you promise me something,” she said, her eyes darting to his breast pocket. She could see something in there, but had no idea what it was.

“Promise you what?” He asked, taking a bite of his food.

“Walk with me,” she said simply. “It’s a lovely night tonight, even with the hustle and bustle of the Gala, and I’d appreciate some company for a while.”

Hmm; either show up even later to the Gala and miss out on boring talks between stuffy rich people, or spend some time with this nice young woman. Only an idiot would’ve said no, and despite what he told himself, sometimes, Spike was no idiot.

As they left the bakery, he waited for her to finish her bite before speaking. “Any direction you’d like to go?”

“Hmmm... how about around the block, near the castle?” She asked. “I imagine most of the sidewalks behind it aren’t nearly as crowded.”

“Sure,” he said as they walked off. “Now, back to my earlier question. Just how did you come by the name Moondancer?”

“Well, it’s not really as simple as yours; maybe even a bit sillier,” she said with a smile.

“Try me,” he replied.

“Well... when I was younger, under the light of a summer’s full moon, our family would have a little picnic out in our backyard. Now, yes, I know that sounds a bit odd, but my parents worked most of the day, so any time spent outside was a blessing in and of itself, especially in this city. Canterlot doesn’t have that many parks, and at night, our backyard was probably much safer.”

“So, let me guess, at these picnics, you’d dance?” Spike asked with a soft chuckle.

“Yes, actually,” Moondancer replied, giggling slightly as well. “Father would take out his old violin and play it for mother while we went and did whatever we wanted. My brothers liked to climb the old oak tree while my sisters chased fireflies. I... I don’t know, I just liked dancing under the light of the moon, is all.” Funnily enough, she wasn’t lying to him. She told the same to the madam during a shared dinner one night, who went on to suggest that the name “Moondancer” was the perfect cover for her.

“So you dance under the light of the full moon,” he said, taking another bite of his strudel. The night must’ve been later than he thought, for the crowds were already starting to thin out around the castle, or at least, the crowds not directly in front of it. “Doesn’t seem all that silly to me, to be honest. It’s kind of fitting, actually.”

“Thank you,” she replied with a soft blush. “Spike, if I may be forward with you, what do you do for a living?”

“Me?” He asked, obviously surprised by her question. “Well... nah, you wouldn’t want to hear that. It’s plenty boring enough as it is, and I’m afraid just telling you would bore you to tears.”

“Try me,” she said with a smirk. “I’ll tell you mine if you tell me yours.” Not the full truth, obviously, but just enough.

“Well, you might say I’m a... freelancer of sorts,” he said simply.

“What, like a mercenary for hire?”

“What? No, no, not like that,” the young man said quickly. “I just... do lots of things, I guess. I don’t really specialize.”

“Name some of your skills then,” she said simply, as they walked under a large maple tree, the leaves softly fluttering in the light summer breeze.

“Well, I know... how to drive, I guess,” Spike said.

“Drive?”

“Yeah, but most kinds of vehicles,” he added. “Cars, trucks, delivery vans, tractors, limousines...”

“Well, that’s quite the jump right there,” Moondancer said with a hearty laugh. “Tractors to limos? Aren’t those, literally, two of the least-related vehicles on the planet?”

“Hey, when you’ve got friends like I do, you never know what you’ll be needing to drive, or when,” he said, a dash of defensiveness entering his tone. “Besides, I don’t usually get paid for that; I do it as a favor.”

“Then what do you do for work?” She asked.

“Mostly writing, housecleaning, and inventory management at my local library,” he said as they finished the last of their strudels. “You know, simple stuff like that.”

“Writing? You’re a writer?”

“Well, no, I write letters for people and send them, make copies of documents; stuff like that,” Spike said with a shrug.

“So... you’re a secretary.”

“I’d prefer the term “scribe” if you don’t mind,” he said, a small grin appearing on his face. “But enough about me, what about you?”

“What about me?” She replied with a fake scoff, as if he had asked a particularly rude question. In truth, she was merely covering up the fact that his question struck a chord with her: what was she going to tell him? ‘Oh, I’m a professional cat burglar; I rob from the rich and give to my family, or myself, and my policeman-to-be brother will likely catch me someday’ is a terrible way to continue a conversation. But she was anything if not resourceful, and, almost immediately, she knew what to say.

“Well, what do you do for a living?” He asked.

“I’m a... dancer,” she said. “And no, despite what you might think, not an exotic one either.”

“The thought never entered my mind,” Spike said. “So... ballet? Freestyle?”

“Ballet,” she confirmed. “I was, more or less, “found” by a former ballet master, who took me under her wing. I’ve also done some gymnastics, but could never really find myself competing in it; the limelight, the cameras, all those medals and the paparazzi following me everywhere... it just didn’t suit me, I guess.” The last thing she needed was the kind of attention where people could start making connections between her skills and those of a rather prominent local burglar.

“So it’s more of a hobby now?” The young man asked as they rounded the corner of the block.

“You might say that,” Moondancer replied. “Mostly a way to stay in shape and limber, but yes, you could say it’s more of a hobby than anything.”

“So, how’s the work?” Spike asked. “I’ve never been to a ballet before, but from what a friend of mine told me, it can be fairly spectacular.”

“Depends on the performance, but yes, many people do seem to enjoy it,” she replied. “Moreover, you could say I’m on a vacation of sorts. Not a lot of tryouts at this time of the year, I’m afraid; most of them happen in late fall; you know, for the winter plays, like the Nutcracker Suite and whatnot.”

“I can understand; seasonal work can be tough,” the young man said. “Trust me, finding something to do when you technically don’t have anything to do can be such a chore sometimes.”

“You mean there’s not a lot of jobs available where you’re from?”

“Well, technically you might say I’m a Canterlot native, but I’ve been living in Ponyville for the past couple of years. Rural farming town; have you heard of it?”

“Yes, I believe so,” Moondancer said. “Something about the Elements of Harmony living there, I believe.”

He nearly froze at the comment, but in truth, he expected it, seeing that his friends have become somewhat of an urban legend to some people. That being said, he’s had trouble in the past with people not believing him or simply scoffing at him, thinking he's just trying to impress them, when he's legitimately not... he didn’t want to take that chance.

“Yeah, they do,” he said finally. “Well, Ponyville, for all it’s country charm and cozy living, just doesn’t... it doesn’t suit me, you know? I mean, growing up, it was fine, but now that I’m older, I want more. I want to actually find a career or something to put my life on track; not just wander aimlessly about in a small town, pining in my later years for what could have been. Does that seem wrong to you?”

She paused for a moment, “no, no, I understand. More than you know, in fact. I’ve always wanted more with my life, and more for my family. You may not think it, but my family’s struggled to make ends meet for most of our lives. The only reason my siblings and I are doing so well for ourselves is that our parents pushed us to be the best we could be, though some self-motivation helps too, I guess.”

“So, how is your family?” Spike asked.

“Well, my oldest sister, Mary, is studying to become a doctor, while the next oldest, my brother John, is going into business and financing. Leila, my next sister, is also going to become a doctor, while Arthur, the youngest boy and the fourth child in the family, is going into the police force. Then there’s me, Delilah, the dancer.”

“Sounds like your family’s troubles will be over fairly soon,” he said as they rounded another corner.

“Yes, they’ve done well for themselves, even with what we started off with, signifying us as “poor” in the eyes of the super-rich,” Moondancer replied.

“Hey, we’re all “poor” in their eyes,” Spike said, earning a smile from the young woman. “Don’t fret too much about it. I know I don’t.”

“Well, that’s one way of thinking about it, I guess,” she said, letting a short silence come between them. “Spike, if I may ask, what do you have in your breast pocket?”

“This?” He asked, glancing towards the object in question. “It’s just an invitation to a party of sorts. Probably wasn’t even going to go, or at least, show up kinda late, seeing as I found something better to do.”

“Something better?” she asked.

He blushed slightly. “Well... taking a walk with you,” he admitted. “It’s nice just talking with someone about the simple things, and seeing that I wasn’t in any hurry, it just seemed... right. Almost like fate, if you catch my drift.”

“My dear sir, that is a very kind thing to say,” she said with a smile. “Are you still planning on going to the party after our walk?”

“Well... that’s the thing,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck. “I was... kinda wondering... if perhaps... you’d like to come with me to the party?”

“Me?” She asked, eyes widening slightly in surprise.

“Well, yeah,” he said with a shrug. “Invite-only, though we’re allowed to bring guests, but... frankly, parties like these always bore me. There’s never much to do, I know almost none of the people there, and I usually only go because my friends invited me along.”

“So why do you go, then? If you don’t really like the parties?” Moondancer asked.

“I go because I feel obligated, but not necessarily in a bad way. They’re my friends, but they usually go off and do their own thing. I just... kinda hang out, I guess.”

“So, you go to boring parties because you’re a good friend? How is that, in any way, a bad thing? Seems like a rather noble thing to do, if you ask me.”

“That’s sorta why I wanted to ask you if you’d like to come along,” he said as they stopped by a trash bin, tossing away their strudel wrapping. “I’ve had a great time on this walk, and I’d like to spend some more time with you, but seeing that I’m due for the party, and you said you didn’t have any other plans...”

“Spike, are you asking me out on a date?” It was barely a question on her part, and while they had, indeed, just met that evening, she already felt a connection to him, as if they’d known one another for weeks, if not months.

“Is... is that okay?”

“You’re asking me if it’s okay for you to ask me out on a date?”

“Um... sure,” he said. “Delilah, would you like to be my date to a party this evening?” He offered her his hand, waiting for her response.

“Well, it’s already evening, but yes, yes I would,” she said, taking his hand into hers and gently shaking it. “Now, where is this party?”

“Just... just down the block,” he said, the pair of them holding hands as they walked along. “Promise me you won’t freak out or anything when we get there.”

“Why on earth would I freak out?” Moondancer asked, glancing at her “date” as the sounds of the Gala grew closer. “Is this party right across from the Grand Galloping Gala?”

“Um... not exactly,” Spike said as they stopped, a line of people ahead of them waiting to enter. From the look of things, many were either Hollywood stars and starlets, many with either an entourage or a date, or one of the countless multitude of wealthy elites in Canterlot.

“Why are we waiting in line?” She asked as the line moved along.

“Well... this is the line to the party I told you about.”

“What?!”

“See, right here,” he said, calmly extracting the invitation from his suit’s breast pocket. “Right here; George Pendragon, limit one, for attendance of the Grand Galloping Gala. May bring one guest.”

“You were invited to the Grand Galloping Gala, and instead thought it’d be a better use of your time to buy me an apple strudel and go for a walk with me?!” Moondancer was, well, gobsmacked by this revelation. To think, he’d been invited to a party she’d have sold everything she owned to attend, a party unlike any other, and yet here he was, saying that he’d rather spend some time with her, instead!

“Well, when you put it like that, it sounds kinda silly,” the young man muttered as they approached the front of the line. “I thought you said you’d stay calm.”

“I never said that; you only asked me not to freak out. I’m not freaking out, I’m just... stunned is all.”

“Invitation?” One of the guards asked, eyeing Spike with a look of both recognition and disdain.

“Right here,” Spike said, producing said invitation and handing it to the guard.

Looking it over thoroughly, more so than he had for any of the other guests, he looked up. “And the lady’s?” He asked, handing it off to the other guard for another inspection.

“I... I don’t have one.”

“She’s with me, as a guest,” Spike added quickly, before the guard could say anything.

“All right then, everything checks out, they can go in,” the second guard said. “Enjoy your evening, Mr. Pendragon and...?”

“Fulsome,” Moondancer said quickly, wrapping an arm through Spike’s. Oh, how she wished she had chosen something better to wear! “Delilah Fulsome.”

“Enjoy your evening then, Madam Fulsome,” the second guard said, giving an honorary bow. The first guard simple gave a curt nod before they let them pass.

As the pair walked up the castle steps and through the large entryway, Moondancer turned to her date. “What was that about? That guard looked like he wanted to throw you into a dumpster.”

“I’ll tell you about it later,” Spike said, glancing back to make sure they weren’t being followed or something. “Right now, let’s just enjoy the party, shall we?”

“But wait, I thought you said you didn’t like these parties,” she said.

“I’m guessing tonight might be different from all the rest.”

“Why do you suppose that is?”

“You’re here.”

Moondancer felt her heart flutter in her chest at his words. “My, you really are a sweet-talker, you know that?”

Spike blushed. “S-Sorry, I... I didn’t mean it like that, I just...”

“Just what?”

“Well, I’ve had such a wonderful time with you as it is, that really, I feel that you just being here will make it one to remember... in a good way, of course.”

“I can only hope so,” Moondancer replied, her eyes gracing every part of the party hey could. The high chandeliers covered in glimmering crystal, the silk curtains inlaid with precious gemstones, the endless flow of serving platters, rich with foods she could only dream of eating; it was as if she died and gone to some strange heaven of sorts.

Everywhere she looked, all she could see were things of unrepentant beauty and value, from diamond-studded earrings and expensive broaches on high-class ladies to golden cufflinks, silver-coated canes, and silk suits that seemed to grace every man in the building, be they of upper class, or the castle’s servants. She could literally see money being passed around tables, both by those making business deals and by those in the far corners, where gentlemen played cards like kings.

On top of all of that, from nearly every wall, from nearly every open spot one could pass through, there were marble statues, ancient tapestries and paintings, fine china being served on platters made from cast silver; golden curtains hung from every doorway, as if inviting one to pass through. And every now and then, a camera flash would light up the area, making everything glow in a dazzling display.

To Moondancer, this night could’ve been the most lucrative of her life. To think, if she managed to sneak in with the intent of stealing, she could’ve made off with more than enough to put her family on the right track; she could’ve carried off a king’s ransom in the drape’s jewels alone, not to mention all the golden pendants hanging from many a rich lady’s neck.

It was so tempting...

“So?”

Snapping out of her reverie, Moondancer glanced over at Spike, whose expression seemed to be a combination of expectation and surprise. “So?” She repeated.

“What do you think?” He asked.

“About what? The decor? It’s... it’s amazing, Spike. I’ve never seen anything like it before.”

“Well, then you should see it on Christmas,” Spike said as they went further into the castle, the crowds growing thicker and thicker as the rooms they passed through grew larger and larger still. “It’s really spruced up then, especially when they get the Christmas trees all decorated. I swear, it gets bigger and better every year.”

“Wait, you’re here during Christmas?” She asked, astounded by this new tidbit of information.

“Well... yeah,” Spike said. “Like I said, I’m a Canterlot native. Probably should have told you this earlier, but my father... he was a knight of sorts.”

“One of the knights of Canterlot? Those are the most prestigious and renowned knights in all the land! People aren’t even knighted all that often anymore; how did your father become one?”

“Well, his father was a knight, as was his father before him, and so on,” Spike said simply. “I don’t know what he did, though. He... died a few months after I was born.”

“Oh, I’m... I’m sorry,” Moondancer said softly. “What about your mother?”

“That’s just the thing, isn’t it?” He asked as they ventured further into the castle. By now, servants with platters of food were swarming past with a deftness that defied their heavy trays, and all around, the din of everyone talking, laughing and occasionally shouting was making it a bit harder to hear. “I never knew my mother. I was told she passed away soon after she had me; likely one of the scullery maids, if the rumors are true. I’ve been told my father always did have a fondness for those outside of his station. I guess him hooking up with my mother proved that.”

“They were married?” She could only imagine how hard it was for him, at such a young age, to not only lose both of his parents, but having never been old enough to really know them.

“Yes,” Spike said. “I’ve been told it was a small, private ceremony, seeing that it wasn’t the business of anyone else but Princess Celestia at the time. She has to be present at all of these functions, be they royal marriages, parties, or diplomatic meetings.”

“How do you know so much about the goings-on in Canterlot?” Moondancer asked, stopping them alongside an old painting of the princesses, surrounded by a group of knights in full armor.

“I assume he should know, seeing that he’s lived here, before,” a gentle, but powerful voice said, causing Moondancer to turn around and feel as if her jaw would hit the floor.

“Y-Y-Your highness!” She squeaked, almost jumping behind Spike as she tried to bow as quickly as she could. Spike mirrored her action, though with far more practised grace and dignity than she could muster.

“Ah, hello Spike,” the princess said with a soft smile, looking down at the bowing pair. “How are you this wondrous evening, my favorite scribe?”

“Fairly well; yourself?”

“I must say, if not for the wondrous breeze passing through the windows, it would be terribly stuffy in here,” Celestia replied. “And who might this lovely young lady be?” She added, nodding in Moondancer’s direction.

“I’m... I’m... I’m...” was all the young woman could say.

“This is Delilah; Delilah Fulsome,” Spike said quickly, feeling a soft squeeze from her hand as a sign of gratitude. “I met her earlier this evening when stopping at that bakery down the street.”

“Ah, the one with those absolutely delectable apple strudels? The Almatti Bakery, if my memory serves me right.”

“The very same.”

“Ah, well, I must say, Applejack’s family may have cornered the market on apple products around Ponyville, but here in Canterlot, they have yet to reach the market. Though, when they do, I suspect the strudels here will be even better.”

Moondancer could only stare, almost slack-jawed, at this conversation. Here, Spike, was having a conversation with Princess Celestia! Princess Celestia, of all people! And in such a casual tone that they might as well have been two simple neighbors living in suburbia!

“So, Delilah, what do you think of the decor?” The princess asked, causing the younger woman to pause for a few moments.

“It’s... it’s amazing, your highness,” she said. “I’ve never seen anything quite like it before.”

“Well, you should see it during Christmas time,” Celestia said.

“That’s what I said,” Spike whispered, smiling in Moondancer’s direction. “Have the others been behaving themselves? You know how my friends have made fools of themselves, before.”

“Oh, more or less, just like every year, though this year Miss Pie seems to have found a new game to try and play,” the princess said with a chuckle. “I believe she called it “Truth or Shots”, and last I checked, Miss Fluttershy was out of the game, and the others were still holding strong. Mind you, while I cannot condone drinking amongst my guards, it’s perfectly acceptable and even encouraged for my guests to do so, if only because the tab includes the cleaning bill, afterwards.”

Moondancer blinked. Fluttershy? Pie? Were those... the Elements of Harmony? Spike knew them?!

“Any big messes yet?” Spike asked.

“No, no, nothing yet, Spike,” Celestia said. “Well, I must be going. It was good to meet you, Delilah. If you two should be needing anything, please, come find me.” With that, amidst a sudden swarm of attendees, the princess was off, disappearing into the crowd like the sky behind a thunderstorm.

“That was Princess Celestia,” Moondancer said, still a bit shell-shocked from this sudden encounter.

“Yes, yes it was.”

“That was the Princess Celestia, and she just... you two talked!”

Spike shrugged. “Yeah, that’s what most people do when they meet. They talk.”

“Maybe, but not when meeting a princess!” Moondancer thought she had this fellow pegged down before they got in the castle, but right now, everything she thought was being violently turned on its head. Visit the castle during Christmas? Having famous friends that come to parties like this on a regular basis? Talking with Celestia as if there were no social barriers between them? Just who was this man?

“Sorry, I forgot,” Spike said. “Meeting the princess for the first time can be a big shock to most people. Yet, once you get to know her, she’s very much like the rest of us. Though, I’ll admit, her temperament is the stuff of legend; she can keep a cool head in almost any situation.”

“I wish I could say the same,” Moondancer replied, looking up at the painting. “I was like a blubbering idiot back there.”

“Hey now, don’t go beating yourself up, most people are like that in front of her, so you have nothing to be ashamed of,” the young man said. “Besides, I really think she liked you.”

“How could you tell?”

“She called you “Delilah” instead of “Miss Fulsome”,” he said with a smile. “Most people don't pick up on that, and even then, if she had called you “Miss Fulsome”, I’d doubt it was because she didn’t like you. In that case, it probably would’ve been because she was trying to be formal.”

“Well that’s... a relief, I guess,” the woman said, a small smile forming on her lips. “Spike, tell me, this painting... you’ve seen it before, haven’t you?”

“Yes, of course,” he replied.

“Is that your father?” She asked, pointing with her free hand up at the large canvas.

He looked up, seeing the picture of a strong, set jawed, mess of unruly spiky haired, tall, yet not broad-shouldered, stubble-bearded, twinkle eyed man that almost belied his apparently stoic nature.

“Yeah, that’s him.” He didn't want to tell her that, not only did he know this painting very well, he’d stared at it countless times in his younger years, as if trying to will his father to step out of the canvas and talk with him. Heck, at some points in his life, in the lowest points he’d ever had, he talked to the painting, half expecting answers. When they didn’t come, he simply picked himself back up and went on with his life, as hard as it felt at the moment. It always did pick up and get better, but it was hard on him, nonetheless. “That’s dad.”

“You look a lot like him,” she said.

He laughed in spite of himself. “Well, I should hope so. I mean, he was my father, after all.”

“You also look a bit like her,” Moondancer said, nodding towards Celestia.

“Me? Look like the princess? Sure, right,” Spike said with a chuckle. “Now that’s a bit silly, don’t you think?”

She gave a small chuckle of her own: she still didn;t know why, but something with they way they smiled... it was indeed similar, but that could have been mere coincidence. “I suppose you’re right, it does sound a bit silly, just saying it out loud.” Moondancer noticed something else about the painting, something that wasn’t immediately noticeable. “Spike... your father, what’s that he’s holding?”

“Oh, that?” Spike said, peering a tad closer. “That would be the seal of the princesses. It’s rarely ever seen by anyone, save for the princesses of course, so that fact that she had him hold it when this painting was made must mean she wanted it to be shown. Though, for the life of me, I have no idea why he is holding it. I mean, any of the guards in front of him could’ve held it.”

“That, and his other hand is resting on the back of the princesses’ throne.”

“Oh, yes, that,” he replied. “No idea about that. Maybe he needed it to support himself?”

“Could it mean that he was Princess Celestia’s right-hand knight?” Moondancer asked.

“I... I guess so. I mean, I don’t know, not a lot of people talk about him all that much, at least whenever I’m around,” Spike said. “Don’t like speaking of the dead or something, especially when they were so close to the princess. All very hush-hush and whatnot; kinda frustrating, to be honest.”

“I’d imagine so,” the young woman replied. “Spike, might I ask you something?”

“Oh, so now you’re asking me if it’s all right for you to ask me a question?” He replied with a smirk.

“Yes.”

“Okay then, shoot.”

“Seeing that you've been here before, many times in fact, would you care to show me around? I’d like to try and remember as much of this as I can, if only because I didn’t bring a camera with me, and even if I did, I’m not sure they’d let me take pictures.”

He paused for a moment, as if deep in thought. “Sure. Just make sure you don’t steal anything, okay?” He added with a laugh.

Moondancer laughed as well, even as she felt her stomach nearly drop out from her. “No promises,” she replied, unsure if that was the side she’s been showing to Spike, or if it was her other side speaking up.

He blinked.

“I’m kidding, I’m kidding!” She quickly added.

“Okay, you had me worried there for a second.”

“Really?”

“Nah. Nobody steals from the princesses.”

“Because they don’t want to?”

“No, because the security here is so high. You’d be surprised how many pickpockets we throw out of every party, regardless of their social status. I saw a Saddle Arabian emir tossed out because he tried making off with a pile of golden candlesticks from Celestia’s bathroom. He tried hiding them under his robes the entire evening.”

“Really?”

“Oh yeah, you never know what someone will try and steal. Doorknobs, fur coats, the jewels from any of the curtains, even some of the smaller porcelain statues; it’s tough being rich, I guess. The more you have, the more people want to take it away, even if they’re rich as well.”

“But... the princess didn’t strike me as the kind to dwell on her belongings,” Moondancer said as the pair walked away from the painting. “The way you two talked, it was like... like she didn’t have a care in the world.”

“Oh, but she does care, very much in fact,” Spike said. “But you’re partly right; she doesn’t really care for her belongings, as most are replaceable and the irreplaceable ones are kept out of the public’s reach. However, people, she values more than anything else; friends, family, even those she just met a few minutes before.”

“Why is that?”

Spike paused, the thought turning over in his head. “I’m guessing it’s simply because everyone thinks of her as a princess first, and a person second. I’m sure she’d be happy if people saw past the title and wanted to get to know the real Celestia.”

“What is the “real” Celestia like?” Moondancer asked. “If that’s not too intrusive a question, of course.”

“Celestia? She’s kind, generous, has the patience of a saint and almost always in a good mood,” Spike said. “Quick-witted, funny, with a resolve of steel and a heart of gold. That, and she likes desserts; that’s how she knew about the bakery down the street.”

“I take it she’s a frequent customer of theirs?”

“You got it. She may be one of the reasons they’ve been able to stay in business for so long; whenever she has a more “private” party, she always orders from them for the desserts.”

“I guess it pays to have customers with deep pockets,” Moondancer quipped.

“In their case, yes, it does,” Spike said, reaching out as a platter of drinks passed their way. Quickly snatching two from the server before he whisked off to parts unknown, he handed Moondancer one of them. “Cheers.”

“What is it?” She asked, cautiously sniffing the bubbly yellow liqueur.

“Hard cider, a personal favorite of the princesses,” Spike said, taking a small sip of his. “The apples come directly from Sweet Apple Acres, down in Ponyville.”

The young woman took a sip. “Hmm, it is rather good. Though I must admit, I’ve never tried it before.” She’d had alcohol before, of course, but usually only something simple, like a beer or some wine. Hard cider was indeed a new experience to her, one that she was beginning to like almost as much as her companion.

“There’s a first time for everything,” Spike said with a smile. “So, what do you want to see first?”

The young woman paused, taking another slow sip of her drink. “Hmm, I’ve always heard the gardens are lovely,” she said. “But wasn’t there a problem with the animals running wild a few years ago? It was all over the news.”

“Yes, that would be Fluttershy’s doing,” he said with a chuckle. “She has a knack with animals, bordering on legendary, but at that time... not so much. That’s part of the reason why most of the animals aren’t in the gardens anymore. No, instead, Celestia has them in their own private sanctuary, in one of the private parks right outside of Canterlot.”

“So the gardens are empty?”

“Other than some birds, fireflies, and maybe the occasional bat, yes, they’re completely empty,” Spike said. “Most people, or at least the rich ones, don’t like going out there at night.”

“So we’ll be alone?” She didn’t know why she sounded so excited at that prospect, or even why she felt as such, but being alone with Spike flt not only right, but an inescapable possibility; one that she wasn’t against in the slightest.

“More or less.”

“Then let’s go,” she said simply, practically dragging him along as she set off. However, she quickly stopped, looking this way and that for a few moments. “Umm... I don’t know which way it is to the gardens.” Everywhere she looked, crowds of guests and servants moved almost as one giant mass, giving her the sense of being trapped in a sea of elitists.

Spike chuckled. “Follow me, I know a shortcut,” he said, the pair of them working their way past clusters of the rich, the famous, and those that’ve been hired to escort them around. Here and there, movie stars both recent and of yesteryear conversed with businessmen, foreign dignitaries, and countless others who’s warranted an invite to the party.

Meanwhile...

“Okay, that truth got you out of this shot” Pinkie Pie said as she swallowed the hard cider. “However, mister, you’re still up for another question!”

“What? Preposterous! Is it not Miss Dash’s turn?” The man asked, his fanciful suit’s sleeves rumpled slightly from the occasional motion of bringing alcohol to his mouth.

“Nuh-uh, I lost a turn, remember?” The young woman replied, her smile a bit lopsided as she poured a few more shots. “Told only half a truth, I did: not enough to take a shot, but not enough to be let off the hook either.”

“Then what of the others?”

“Dude, everyone else either quit before they got alcohol poisoning, or, in Fluttershy’s case, pass out.” As if on cue, a loud, almost guttural snore erupted behind her. “Besides, you and I both know Applejack had to opt out for two reasons. One, she has the alcoholic tolerance of a god, meaning the game wouldn’t be as fun with her tonight, and two, she’s got shipments of apples to sell to some of these richer guys.”

“While that may be the case, I must remind you for the fifth time tonight, Miss Dash: one does not refer to a prince as a “dude”, you know,” Prince Blueblood harrumphed.

“Oh, just shut up and take the truth,” the woman shot back, her cocky grin seemingly taking up half her face.

“Fine, fine, what is this truth?”

Pinkie Pie looked up from the shots she’d been eyeing. “Um... okay, uh... oh, I got it! Do you still wet the bed?”

The prince’s slightly bloodshot eyes bulged at the excitable woman. “What? Where did you hear that? Who told you?”

“Hey, hey, jusht answer the queshtion,” Rainbow Dash said, her words starting to slur.

“I... I... ugh, fine! I wet the bed until I was sixteen, okay? I haven’t since, for... reasons.”

“I’m not believing that,” Pinkie Pie said. “Come on, take a shot.”

“I’m afraid he’s telling the truth,” a voice said, and as the trio turned, Princess Celestia appeared before them. “My nephew would, indeed, soil his sheets before the age of sixteen, though he only stopped doing so because we put a nightlight in his room.”

“What?” Rainbow Dash asked. “Really?”

“This news does not leave this table,” the prince said with a growl.

“I’m fine with that,” Celestia said with a smile. “By the way, have any of you seen Spike? Last I checked, he and his date were making small talk near an old painting of his father.”

“Whoa, Spike’s got a date?” The prince and Dash exclaimed at the same time.

“Holy guacamole, that’s great!” Pinkie Pie exclaimed. “Is it someone we know?”

“I don’t think so, they only just met tonight, it would seem,” the princess said. “She seems nice, though.”

“Is she hot?”

“Miss Dash, why would you ask something like that?” Blueblood queried, looking at the woman with a strange glare.

“What? Not my fault if I’m hoping Sspike getsh shome,” she retorted. “That’sh what good friendsh do, they hope their friendsh get laid.”

“I don’t hope that,” Pinkie Pie said. “I just hope my friends have a good time.”

“So that’sh why I never get any!” Rainbow shouted, giggling for a reason known only to herself. “Pinkie’sh been cockblocking me thish whole time by not wishing I get laid!”

“I don’t think it works like that,” Blueblood said, pinching the bridge of his nose as a pang of pain flittered through his head.

“Anyways,” Celestia said, struggling to hold back a giggle at Dash’s drunken antics, “if you do happen to see Spike, tell him that next week, we’ll be going over the status of his father’s estates. He’s fast approaching his twenty-fifth year, and by next summer, I want everything set, so he doesn’t have to worry.”

“Sure this, auntie, I’ll let him know if I see him,” the prince said as Celestia left them alone once more. “Now, Miss Dash, Truth or Shot?”

“I’ll take truth,” she said.

“Okay then, when is the last time you got lucky?”

“Aw, come on, that’sh not fair!”

Meanwhile...

“So these are the Canterlot gardens,” Moondancer whispered in awe.

“Yep,” Spike replied.

All around them, great trees of all shapes and sizes, their leaves green as could be, stood silhouetted against the dark backdrop of the night sky. Behind them, the glow of the castle’s many lights casted innumerable shadows across everything in their path, be they the countless arrays of flowers, the great trellis through which large grapevines twisted, or the vast array of decorative statues and fountains that seemed to naturally spring from the surrounding landscape. Off in the distance, there was a splash from one of the smaller koi ponds, likely that of a large frog seeking the safety of the water.

Here and there, an occasional bird would flitter about, seeking somewhere to rest for the night, while high above, an occasional bat would dart past the tops of the trees, barely visible against the night sky in its search for food.

Gently inhaling the sweet scent of a cool summer’s eve, Moondancer and Spike came to a stop in the middle of the gardens, in a large, grassy opening that almost seemed to have been magically trimmed to a perfect length.

“Spike?” She asked, wondering why her heart was beginning to beat a bit faster.

“Yes?”

“I... I just want you to know that I’ve had such a wonderful time tonight, with you,” the young woman said, turning to face him. “It’s not every night that a simple Canterlot girl is invited as a date alongside a dashing young man who just happens to be on a name-to-name basis with one of the princesses themselves.”

“Why thank you, nobody’s ever called me “dashing” before,” Spike said. “Or at least, like you did: when Rarity says it, it always has something to do with what I’m wearing, not who I am.”

“Mmm, yes, well, her vision must be somewhat poor, to miss such a wonderful man such as yourself.” Moondancer said with a smile. Behind them, a soft melody began to play, emanating from the castle’s walls. The night was no longer as young as when they met, but it would seem that it was destined to last longer than they thought.

“My lady,” Spike said, taking both of her hands into his own. “Might I have this dance?”

She giggled, his tone suggesting that he could have been planning this from the start. Then again, his smile said otherwise; this was as spontaneous as paying for her apple strudel before. “Yes,” she said, pulling her body closer to his, embracing the gentle warmth that seemed to radiate off of him. “Yes, you may.”

Slowly, the two began to turn in time with the music, the soft melody coinciding with their steps. Every gentle sway, every twist and turn, bend and bow, seemed to flow naturally between the two as they moved under the soft glow of the castle’s lights. Inside, they could still hear the party going on, with people talking, occasionally shouting, and doors opening, yet to them, it was far more subdued, almost as if it were... far away.

“Miss Fulsome...”

“Please, just Moondancer.”

“Moondancer, I just... I just wanted to thank you,” Spike said he held her close, her head resting on his shoulder.

“For what, Spike?” She asked softly, feeling as though she were floating on a cloud in his embrace.

“For tonight,” he said softly, pressing his head against hers, smelling her hair as he did so. It was a simple sweetness, with none of the extra conditioner or shampoo other women used. Au naturale, something he found far more appealing, and in this case, far more comforting. “This has been...”

“Fantastic?” She whispered, snaking one of her hands around his back and placing it firmly above his shoulder blades. She could feel his pulse beat beneath her fingers; slow, rhythmic, steady.

“I was going to say ‘incredible’, but yeah, that works too,” Spike said with a soft chuckle. “What about you?”

“What about me?”

“Has it been good for you, too?”

She looked up at him, his green eyes sparkling like emeralds in the low light. “Spike, this... this has been one of the best nights of my life,” she said. “This has just been so wonderful, all of it. Meeting the princess, seeing the castle decorations, even being part of such an amazing event, even in some minor way... it’s just all so... so...”

“Magical?” He purred.

“Yes,” she whispered. Their faces were growing closer, their breath washing over one another, their lips...

They touched just as the music stopped, and for that instant, the pair felt as if the world stopped along with it. All the noise, all the lights, everything just vanished; there was only the contact of their lips, the warmth that seemed to spread through their faces like thunder across the plains.

Spike pulled back abruptly, earning a soft moan of disappointment from Moondancer as their eyes shot open. “Moondancer, I... I... I’m sorry, I don't know what came over me,” the young man panted.

Moondancer was short of breath as well, but her quickly beating heart was telling her that this night was not over yet: not by a long shot. “Spike,” she said clearly, her hand moving up from his back to his head. “Don’t.”

“Don’t what?” He asked as his hands, as if of their own free will, drifted down to her incredibly trim waistline.

“Don’t apologize,” she whispered. “And don’t stop.” With that, she pulled him down with one hand, recapturing his lips with her own, while her other pulled his body closer to hers. Spike, after a few moments, did the same, his strong hands pulling her lithe frame closer to his, their chests pressing tightly together, her hips grinding into his, the feeling of weakness in their knees as the butterflies in their stomachs took flight. It was magical, it was sensational, it was... in public.

Spike tried to push himself away enough to speak, which was made difficult by the fact that his body was beginning to react to Moondancer’s touch in very... sensitive ways. That, and the fact that she was holding onto him as if her life depended on it. “Moondancer... no, we can’t... we just met...”

“So?” She said, the cause of his pauses being the fact that she kept kissing him. “Tonight has been so wonderful, it’d be such a waste for us to not to not take full advantage of all it has to offer.”

“But... but we’re strangers, you and I... we just...”

“Yes, we did just meet, but Spike, don’t you see? This night, it was no accident that you and I met, anymore than it was a happy coincidence that I’ve always wanted to go to the Gala, and you gave me that chance. Don’t you feel it, Spike? There’s a connection between us, a mystical bond that brought us together? It’s been pulling on us since you entered that bakery, been pulling on me since you bought me that simple pastry, perhaps long before.”

“But I... I...”

“Don’t believe in fate? In destiny?”

“Well... I believe we make our own choices, that we’re on somewhat of a path, but that’s not it,” he murmured. “I just... I just don’t want to be taking advantage of you is all. The alcohol...”

“Spike, I’ve had alcohol before, and trust me, what I’ve drank was usually a bit more potent than the princesses’ hard cider,” Moondancer said. “I am in complete control of my faculties, and Spike, my mind is screaming at me, my body is shouting, “do not waste this chance”. So, for the love of all that is holy, get those doubts out of your adorable head!”

“But I... but...”

“Spike?”

“Yes?”

“Shut up and kiss me.” She left no room for argument, for in an instant, she had him pressed against her once more, his lips sealed against her own. She pressed herself against him as firmly as she could, rubbing herself slightly up and down his frame as her hands kept him in place.

After a few moments of this, she let him go. “Now, Spike,” she said, looking at him with a serious expression. “Are you going to come quietly, or am I going to have to make you squeal?”

A strange expression came over his features, one that she had not been expecting, but had been hoping for. A somewhat predatory look of lust, mixed with playfulness and a touch of genuine trust. “Miss Fulsome, if that is what you wish, then I shall indeed come with you,” he said, taking her by the arm and leading her none-too-gently away from gardens. “Just not quietly.”

“Ooh, I like it when a man takes charge,” she said, delighted that she had finally gotten him to come out of his comfort zone. For her, domineering men were just as sexy as the gentle, noble men, so long as they were not too much of either. Too much aggression and need for dominance made for a poor partner: a complete lack of it pretty much gave the same results.

“Then you’ll be happy to know we’re not going to do anything out here,” he muttered, grasping a large doors handle and giving it a few odd twists. “Despite what you’d think, fornication on garden grounds is not acceptable party behavior.”

“Who said anything about fornicating?” She asked, giggling as he pulled her through the now-opened door. With a quick swing, he shut it behind them, making sure (to her surprise) to lock it as well.

“You did, when you walked into my life, tonight,” Spike said, pressing his body against hers as she backed into a wall. “In that dress. Which I want off: now.”

She could feel the heat coursing through his body, his solid frame molding perfectly with her own as their hands roamed over one another. She could also feel his... well, he wasn't a guard, but it felt like he had quite the spear down there. “Hmm, are you gonna make me take it off?” She teased, rubbing her hardening nipples against him, the delightful friction from the tight confines of her dress bringing her unbearable ecstasy.

“If I have to,” he growled, leaning down and nipping at her neck, his teeth feeling like fire across her creamy white skin. “I’d prefer you do the honors, while I still have the patience.”

“Mmm, a patient, noble man will always find what he seeks,” Moondancer replied, pulling one of his hands to the zipper on her dress. “And when he does find it, it will be a reward unlike any he’s received before.”

Slowly, she peeled away the upper layers of her dress, her heaving bosom suddenly exposed to the open air.

Spike blinked, stunned by the visage of her loveliness suddenly multiplied by an order of magnitude. The creaminess of her skin matched only by the flawlessness of every curve, her sizeable breasts hung freely, no longer confined to the cramped space of her simple dress, her nipples already hardened from the cool night air. Also, she wasn’t wearing a bra, and from the look of things, she didn’t need one. There was hardly any sag in her chest, yet that was likely not because of their size, but how toned the rest of her was. As the dress slipped further and further down, Spike began to realize just how fit this deviously devilish woman really was.

Her form was almost like that of an Olympic athlete: statuesque, stately, without an ounce of excess fat, but plenty of lean muscle in its place. A washboard stomach, slim as could be, and yet graced with the indentations of muscle that seemed to have been sculpted by an incredibly talented artist. As the dress finished pooling at her feet, he could only continue to stare. That small waistline, those toned thighs, that perfectly round rump, all supported by legs that just seemed to stretch on forever.

“So?” She asked, placing her hands on her hips and cocking her head to the side. “Am I too much woman for you?”

“...wow,” Spike muttered, his heart rate skyrocketing. “I just... wow.”

“Mmm, yes. I am, indeed, a lovely little thing, aren’t I?” She replied, her hands snaking onto his suit and undoing his buttons. “Now, Spike, I know you are a gentleman, but when a lady goes first, it’s impolite to just leave her waiting.”

“Waiting?” He wanted to tear his suit off right there, shred the damned fabric from his body like a bandage.

“Yes, waiting,” she said as she slipped his suit off, gingerly tossing it aside on a large bed. “Heaven knows this night has been fabulous, but if we’re going to go anywhere, then you’re going to have to play catch-up.”

“Then catch up I will,” the man growled, capturing her in another kiss as he fumbled with his belt. Whipping it off with enough force to send it clear across the room, he pressed himself against her as they both pulled his shirt up and over his head.

Pressing herself against his warm chest, Moondancer immediately noticed something about Spike; he was built. Not like a hulking wrestler or bodybuilder, mind you, but more like a football player, or like a handsome stable boy, like in those fantasy books her sisters used to read. Except, this was no boy; this was a man, and it showed. “Mmm,” she purred, feeling her curves line up so well with his own. “You’ve been holding out on me, Spike.”

“Mmm, wasn’t sure what you’d think,” he murmured, leaning back to take off his pants.

Damn, those abs... “I think I like,” she replied, one of her hands freely tracing the contours of his stomach. “But how did you get these? I thought you worked in a library. No librarian is this jacked.”

“I said I do a lot of odds jobs around Ponyville,” the young man said, kicking his pants to the side as her fingers latched onto the sides of his boxer briefs. His strong hands roamed over her body, the contours of his arms almost shining in the dim moonlight. “Working in the apple orchards and hauling bags of flour for a bakery is a good way to stay in shape. Oh, and carrying big stacks of books; that helps too.”

“I’ll say,” Moondancer cooed, his briefs slowly sliding down; much too slow for her liking. “But it’s one thing to have a good body. It’s another thing to have the stamina to... use it properly.”

“Then let me prove myself, my lady,” he said, his underwear vanishing in a flash.

Now, Moondancer, in all her years of burglaring, has trained herself to remain cool under pressure, or at least, when something surprising happened. That, and the fact that she had an innately heightened sense of night vision, meaning that she could see problems and avoid them almost before they happened. But this... this was no problem, no siree. This was...

“Wow,” was all she could say. It was wonderful!

“Hmm, I was hoping you’d say that.”

“Why is that?”

“No reason. I just... I was afraid you were going to say “is that it?” or something.”

In spite of their situation, and the very happy place it was going to go, Moondancer let out a great laugh. “Oh, really? You think I’d say that to that?” She said, pointing towards his groin. “He might hurt me if I hurt his feelings.”

“Hey now, Little Spike isn't going to hurt you.”

“If he doesn’t know what he’s doing, he just might.” And there’s nothing “little” about him.

“Sure he does... wait, what? Are... are you a... a...”

“No, Spike, I’m not a virgin, I’ve had sex before,” Moondancer said, quickly trying to get everything back on track. No need to discuss former lovers when there was this delicious hunk of man-meat standing in front of her. “and I’m guessing you have, too. Probably more than I have.”

“Well, maybe, but I-,”

“No buts,” Moondancer said, one hand grabbing him by his toned arm and the other grabbing his third leg. Quickly, her silky-smooth hand began to run up and down while the other pulled him with her, towards the large, comfortable-looking bed near a far wall.

Spike was impressed with himself. He actually managed to stumble his way with her, all the while her soft hand was stroking him to full mast: talk about multitasking. He was lucky he could even think straight at this point.

Stopping at the bed, Moondancer pushed Spike away from her and, with a nimble cartwheel, landed squarely on the bed, giving Spike a grin that screamed “come and get it, big boy”.

He felt as though half the blood in his brain rushed straight to his groin. Had anymore made the exodus, his now-throbbing cock would’ve either exploded, or swollen to thrice it’s current size; probably both. “Um... don’t you want me to, you know... loosen you up?”

“What?” Why the fuck wasn't he getting over here? Was she going to have to throw him down and ride him for all he was worth?

“You know... go down on you,” Spike said as he approached, the soft light of the moon and the party’s lights giving him a rather otherworldly appearance.

“Spike, while I appreciate the sentiment, and trust me, I really do, I don't need it, especially not now,” Moondancer growled. “If I could, I’d go down on you in a heartbeat, but we don’t have the time; right now, what I need is that,” -she pointed at his throbbing cock- “in here,” she said, her shaved pussy glistening in the moonlight. Good God, she was horny. She needed cock so bad she could barely think straight!

“Well... how do you want it?” He asked, his husky voice both filled with unbridled lust and a desire to make her happy as he lined the tip of his cock up with her wondrous slit.

Despite her heart already beating like crazy, Moondancer felt it flutter at his concern. He was such a gentleman through and through, it was driving her crazy! “Hard,” she purred, moaning as inch after delicious inch began to sink into her. Just the sight of it was making her clench the sheets in ecstasy. “Hard, Spike, I want it hard, I need it hard. Pump me, piston that fucking cock in and out of me like a madman: ravage me! Plow me into this bed like your life depended on it!”

His face split in an ear-to-ear grin as he drove home, sinking himself fully into this delicious little minx of a woman. He withdrew himself almost fully, only to slam back in once more, driving himself all the way down to hilt, watching as her eyes rolled back and her body arched in the midst of a high-pitched squeal. As he began to pick up speed, the young man put a little more power into every few thrusts, cranking up the intensity of his assault until, after what felt like hours, he was ramming into her with frightening speed. Every connection, every slap of his hips against her own, echoed like thunder in the room, punctuated by her squeals of ecstasy.

Moondancer lost herself in the throes of ecstasy. Like liquid lightning he moved, his hips churning with every thrust, her body responding in kind with every downward blow. Her instincts kicking in, her body rose to every thrust, matched him move for move, his strength and hers colliding as equals in this passionate embrace. Her pert breasts bouncing up and down, jiggling with each and every collision of their sweating forms; it was as maddening as it was amazing. Her skin was slick, her body burning up from the inside and out; her insides churning with every brutal thrust, every rotation of their hips.

It was all too much, far too much for her to comprehend. The bed creaked violently, scraping against the floor every time Spike hammered away at her slick pussy. Several of the fluffier pillows were already thrown off the creaking bed, and most of the sheets were already spread all over the place, though that was mostly due to Moondancer’s wandering, clenching hands. Some of the finer sheets were even showing small tears in them, her fingernails having dug through the gossamer-thin fabric with ease.

“Spike!” She moaned, throwing an arm around his neck and pulling herself up, so much so that her generous bosom now rubbed with his glistening torso. “Please... before I... nh... before I...”

“What? Before you cum?” He grunted through a tightly-clenched jaw. “What is it?”

“F-Flip me over,” she moaned, kissing him before falling back onto the sheets. “I want it harder, I want it faster, I need it! Take me from behind!”

Unceremoniously, and with little effort, the sweaty young man flipped his lover over, his shaft still buried deep within the tight confines of her little quim. Squealing in pleasure as she landed on her stomach, Moondancer felt the sheets rub against her as he pulled her backwards, her legs now hanging over the side of the bed. Feeling his length retreat nearly all the way, the burglar glanced back with a whimper, pleading with all her might.

“Please, Spike,” she moaned, watching as he began to sink fully into her once again, far too slowly for her liking. “I... I need this, so bad, so very badly. I need it rough, I need you to make me yours. Spank me, spank me as hard as you can, pull my hair, crush my ass in your big, strong hands... dominate me, make me submit, make me your plaything!”

Spike felt his cock throb even more than it already was, almost painfully so. Her voice, so filled with need, with desire, with lust, and something else, something he could not describe... it made him throw his self-control out the window. Plunging back within the searing heat of her tight, confining pussy, he began to move once more, though this time, he began to really put himself into it. This time, it was not about speed, but the power behind each thrust. So, with an almost wanton desire to plow as far as he could inside of her, he began to push hard.

“Oh fuck!” Squealed his lover as his hands roughly began to squeeze her plump rump. Thick with muscle made strong with plenty of exercise, the young woman’s rear was a sight to behold. With every plunge into her core, Spike watched as his cock would disappear completely from view, her fine ass slamming into his abdomen with enough force to make a loud smack.

“Yes, yes!” Moondancer cried, feeling her asscheeks being kneaded by her lover’s strong hands. “Slap them, Spike, slap my ass! Spank me!”

“You got it!” He roared, and with one hand firmly clenching her waist for support, he brought the other down to his lover’s creamy white ass.

SMACK

The resounding thunderclap seemed to reverberate throughout the room, along with an equally resounding screech of pleasure from Moondancer.

“YES!” She cried, just as Spike’s hand once again made contact with her fine ass. “Yes, YES! More, more!”

“You got it!” Spike grunted, his hand continuing it’s barrage while the other reached up and grabbed the back of Moondancer’s head, shoving it down into the sheets. Grabbing as much of her long hair as he could and twisting it around his fist like a rope, he pulled, hard enough to lift her face up and into the air.

Moondancer’s rear felt as if it was being bathed in scalding water, even as she began to drool in unbridled ecstasy. Every thunderous slap, every nerve fiber in her head being tugged on in rhythm with her thrusts, every single feeling of her insides being churned by her lover’s throbbing cock... it was too much, far too much. She’d never felt anything like this before, never before, not even in her darkest of fantasies, her wildest of dreams...

As Spike’s hand collided with her now-pink (and sore) ass, he thrusted as hard as he could, and at the same time, pulled her hair enough to make her look to the sky. With a resounding scream, her body felt as if it were exploding, wave after wave of unbridled energy coursing through her veins, through her nerves, through her very soul.

She came: hard.

Squealing, her body clenched around Spike’s thoroughly-lubricated dick, and with a roar that sounded like that of a beast, Spike too climaxed, shot after shot of blistering-hot liquid coating her insides. She could feel it pulsate out of him, the thick liquid continuously pouring out, even onto the sheets underneath her. It was as if she were milking him for all he was worth, for every last drop of his precious essence. Maybe she was; she couldn’t really think clearly at that moment, the existential high from her climax addling her brain significantly.

Gasping for breath, and feeling as though he had just ran through all of Tartarus in one go, Spike slumped over onto Moondancer, his slowly-softening cock slipping out from her battered pussy with a loud slurp. Moaning as he slowly rolled off of her, Spike looked over in time to see an unbridled grin plastered across his lover’s face.

“That was...” he began, his ragged breathing the loudest thing in the room right now.

“Yeah,” she replied, her own breathing just as ragged as his own. Struggling, she half crawled, half dragged herself over to him, pulling several of the sheets with her as she did so. “Was it...”

“Yeah, it was... amazing,” he muttered, pulling her sweaty body closer to his own. With his one hand thoroughly sore from slapping his lover’s mighty fine ass, he used the other to pull a few sheets over them. “Moondancer?”

“Yes, Spike?” She cooed. In her heart, she had wanted to say “my love”, but now was not the right time to say that. Maybe later, after they were well-rested; right now, all she wanted was sleep.

“I... I had a great time tonight,” he muttered, kissing her gently on the lips.

“Yeah,” she moaned, curling up against him under the tussled sheets. “Me too.”

Within mere minutes, the two lovers were asleep, drifting off to a dreamland only known to themselves.

Early the next morning, Princess Luna yawned as she trudged off towards her room, the events of the night before having totally exhausted her. The cleanup after a few of the emirs deciding to slide along a bathroom floor covered in olive oil, the puddles of spilled drinks, the occasional guest that found themselves sleeping off a hangover in a broom closet... she didn’t know how her sister put up with it without just losing her mind. Then again, Celestia had a lot more experience with these matters than she did, especially after having been gone for as long as she had.

Opening the door to her room, she stopped: much of her furniture was in shambles, there were pillows and clothes strewn all over the places, clothes that were most decidedly not her own, and... who was that in her bed? Why was her bed occupied?

“Who art thou, and what art thou doing in my chambers?” She asked, her voice only a few octaves below a shout.

The figure sat up, rubbing his eyes as he did so. “What?” He mumbled, yawning as the morning light filtered in through the windows. “What time is it? Where am I? Why... why does my head hurt?”

“Probably the alcohol,” another voice said from underneath the sheets, a groping hand reaching up to try and grab their companion. “C’mon, just a few more minutes...”

“Wake up!” Princess Luna shouted, knocking a chair aside as she stepped into her room. “What art thou doing in my quarters? Answer me!”

“What?” The figure said, crawling out of the tangled mess of sheets. “Oh, um... hi, princess. We were just... actually, I don’t know.”

“You don’t know?” The princess asked, her lit fuse burning rapidly beneath her already-angry exterior.

“Well, my head hurts, my body’s sore, and I think I puked at least once last night,” the woman said.

“Me too,” her companion replied.

“Wait, you!” The woman said, pointing at her companion. “What are you doing here? What are we doing here?”

“Um... I’m not sure myself,” he replied. “My dick... it feels chafed...”

Princess Luna’s eye twitched as the pair looked at each other.

“Wait... I’m sore, you’re sore, and we’re in the same bed?” the woman asked, an unstoppable smile spreading across her face.

“Umm...” was all her apparent lover could say, as the glaring princess began to advance on them with a positively murderous look in her eyes.

“Fuck yeah, I got some, I finally got some!” The woman shouted, pumping a fist into the air, just as Princess Luna’s snarl appeared in her vision. “Oh, hey princess, how are you?”

“Prince Emmanuel Blueblood, and Miss Anastasia Rainbow Dash, what in Tartarus did you you two do to my room last night?!”

Three months later...

“So... how did you two meet?” Mr. Fulsome asked, eyeing the young man sitting in his cramped living room. Granted, it wouldn’t have been cramped if it was just the two of them in there, but with his wife and all of his children present, minus Delilah, there was, indeed, little room to maneuver.

“We met at a bakery near the Castle, the Almatti Bakery,” Spike said, unsure why he agreed to this. Moondancer’s father didn’t scare him, per se, but it was no less relaxing being scrutinized by her family. He had some good news to tell her, news that he’d prefer to withhold from her folks. His meeting with Princess Celestia had opened up a whole new set of doors for him, doors he hoped, someday, Moondancer might want travel through with him. But for now, he was here, waiting for her to get ready for their “date”.

“I’ve heard of them,” one of Delilah’s sisters said. What was her name again... Mary? She was the oldest, so probably. “They’ve been in business for a long time.”

“So, you two met at a bakery,” Delilah’s mother said, her scrutinizing gaze making Spike feel like a racing horse being sized up for a good breeding stock on a rancher’s private estate. “Three months ago?”

“Yes,” he replied. “I’m just sorry I was never able to come out to meet you all sooner, my life has been a bit... hectic, lately.”

“How hectic?” The youngest boy asked, though Arthur was by no means a boy anymore. After all, he was a year older than Delilah.

“Like ‘four hours worth of sleep every night is a blessing’ kind of hectic,” Spike mumbled. “There’s just so much going on that I have a stake in, either with my friends or with people I know. Getting away from all that was just so impossible, at least, until today. This is my first “free” day in almost three weeks.”

“We know, Delilah’s been moping up in her room all that time, waiting for you to find some time to spend with her,” Mr. Fulsome replied. “She even called her boss, that lady who sells antiques, that she was “done with the business” and was looking to do something else with her life. Thank the Lord that she got a nice severance package, seeing as that madam is a strange one indeed. Still, now that you're here, she’ll get out of the house and do us all some good.”

“When do you two think you’ll be back?” The mother asked.

“Likely around 9 o’clock, if not sooner.”

“I don’t think it’ll take too long to get home, afterwards,” a voice said, causing all heads to turn. There, in a lovely Sunday dress, stood Moondancer, her hair done into a long, braided ponytail. Smiling, she strode forward and took Spike by the hand, pulling him to his feet and giving him a quick kiss on the cheek. “Right, Spike?”

“Well, we will be gone most of the day,” he muttered, noticing how her sisters stared at him with a mixture of jealousy and amusement. “But yeah, we should be back before dark.”

“Have fun you two,” Mr. Fulsome said, his well-wishing almost sounding like a threat. Or maybe Spike was just imagining things?

As the pair left, Leila turned to Mary, her expression mirroring her older sister’s. “Why does she get to go to parties now?”

“Because she’s got a hot date,” John replied with a laugh, earning a pair of exasperated groans from his sisters.

“John!” his mother said, her smile betraying her scolding tone.

“What?” He asked. “I’m just saying she got herself a keeper is all. Lord knows me and my last girlfriend didn't have anywhere near the chemistry they do.”

“Well then, I guess you’ll just have to keep looking,” Mary and Leila replied with a smirk.

Epilogue

“So, Spike, what was it you wanted to tell me? You’ve been alluding to some big secret ever since you called a few days ago,” Moondancer said, arm in arm as the pair walked down the street. Even now, just as autumn was setting in, and the green leaves were just starting to change color, it was warm enough out to warrant no more than a simple pair of jeans, or in her case, a nice long dress.

“Well, as you know, there’s this new ballet group, and I was wondering if you wanted to try out,” he said with a smirk.

“Hey, you and I both know I only told you that because I didn’t want you thinking less of me,” she said with a harrumph.

“Ah, but I thought a thief never revealed her motives?”

“I did to you, didn’t I?”

“Yes, and I’m happy you did,” Spike said. “Though, there’s one thing you stole that I wasn’t aware of until a few days after the party.”

“What? I don’t remember stealing anything.”

“Yes, you did,” he said, leaning down and kissing her. “You stole my heart.”

She smiled. “Aww, you’re such a sweetheart,” she said, resting her head against his shoulder. “Now, where was it you were taking me? To a party of sorts?”

“You might say that,” Spike said with a soft chuckle as the sun shone brightly in the sky above them. “There’s this fresh young noble in town, come to claim his inheritance from the princesses. A few minor estates up in the hills, a chateau or two overlooking a private winery and a lake, a deed granting him full ownership of one of the more modern castles in the countryside; you know, stuff like that. Apparently, there’s also been some rumors floating around that his father and Princess Celestia were... an item.”

“Oh, how scandalous!” His lover said. “Do you know him?”

“Yes, very well.”

“Do I know him, by chance?”

“Oh, I should think so.”

“Tell me.” She didn't want to sound like she was begging, but she was.

“Hmm, perhaps you should take a guess?”

“But I can’t think of any noblemen out there that I know,” she said. The only one she could think of was Prince Blueblood, and he was still in hot water with his aunt Princess Luna for sleeping with one of the Elements of Harmony.

“Oh, but remember, you do know this one, rather well I might add.”

“But who? Who could it be? Wait, how old is he?” She just had to know.

“Around my age.”

“How tall?”

“About the same as me.”

“What about... his eye color?”

“Green.”

“Did I meet him at the Gala?” Granted, she had not met pretty much anyone at the Gala, as she was too busy, either talking with Spike, walking with Spike, or... fucking with Spike. All of which were amazing, by the way, though very hard to do at the same time.

“No, you did not meet him at the Gala,” he replied, looking down at her with a knowing smile. “You met him a little ways away from the castle, in a small bakery, over an apple strudel.”

Moondancer paused, confusion ringing in her ears as a feeling of recognition in her gut began to spiral out of control. “Wait a minute... you?!” She was stunned, stunned, that he’s been keeping this from her this entire time. Months! They’ve been together three months, and he was only now telling her he was a noble? Wow, so this must be what payback feels like; her not immediately telling him about being a cat burglar, and now that they had gotten over that bump in their relationship, he’d gotten his own sort of revenge.

“Yes, Moondancer, me,” he replied, stopping as he pulled her into a warm embrace. “Now, my dear, will you go with this young, new noble to his coronation party?”

She threw her arms around his neck and pulled him into a deep, tongue-battling kiss, from which they did not break apart for several moments. “Yes, Spike,” she said, her smile threatening to break her face. “Yes, I will go with you, just like all the ones before it. And I do hope it’ll be a good one.”

“With you there, my lovely Moondancer, every party is a good one.”

The End.

Author's Note

Well, there you have it: one hell of a one-shot, but I just love how it turned out. Again, major props to Mr101 for letting me use his OC Moondancer, and to beirirangu, for being the proofreading and idea-bouncing god that he is.