The Diamond's Eyes

by Dainty Blaze

Rating: teen
Tags: Romance, Spike, Pipsqueak, Rarity, Sex, Sweetie Belle, Diamond Tiara, Slice of Life, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic
Length: 6322

The past can come back on you when you least expect it. Between a blast from the past and the possiblity of losing the club Spike and his friends own this couldn't be more true.

Life is full of twists and turns and as such will even regress on itself. Meaning the past will come back to haunt you. Spike will learn this the hard way when a big shot director from Canterlot decides to turn his best selling novel, The Diamond's Eyes, into a play. As it would turn out, this director is none other than Diamond Tiara, his ex-marefriend and the one he almost proposed to.

Between dealing with this bombshell, a businessman has set his sights one owning The Silver Note, the club he, Pipsqueak, and Sweetie Belle have owned fro nearly two years. Intent on owning the jazz club at any cost, Bigwig resorts to underhanded tactics to procure it, even going so far as to use Sweetie's ex-husband. With the threat of losing the club and dealing with his past, Spike will find that facing the past and providing second chances will set all right in the world.

Edited by Stellar Spiral

Published 2015-04-03 22:40:02 UTC
Last updated 2015-05-19 19:30:40 UTC

Chapter One

Beep. Beep. Beep.

I slammed a claw down on the snooze button, silencing the infernal thing that dared awaken me. A groan escaped my scaly lips as I glanced at the time. It read back a quarter to eight. Damn I hated mornings. I thanked Celestia for the deep red blackout curtains that covered my windows. Ironic I know but life’s like that. Alright you can do this old chum, just get out of bed and walk to the shower. My lack of movement slapped that idea in the face, promptly and with conviction. To which it rebutted in the form of my thrice damned memory; I had errands to run today, as in bills to pay and a certain fashionista to meet for lunch. I really hated my memory. But the icy death for missing a lunch date with Rarity was not how I wished to go out. Besides I never got to see her enough as it was.

With another groan, or creek of my bones, I could never quite tell in the mornings; either way my body was vocal in its protest. (It was too early alright!) Ahem, anyway I made for the bathroom in a crawl. By the way, my name is Spike the Dragon, and you guessed it I am in fact a dragon. I know just oozes creativity but what can you do I was named by a six year old. Granted said six year old was, and still is, a genius of a prodigy but still a six year old. Though it begs the question who in their right mind would let a six year old name a baby dragon; if you knew my mother and her sick sense of humor though said question would promptly and efficiently off itself in an out of the way corner of the world, never to be heard from again. And alas it was not missed.

The mirror revealed the havoc my pure silk sheets (heavily enchanted of course) had done to my scales and spines. I nearly gasped at the horror of purple and green I had become. A hot shower, a snip of a few errant spines and the careful arrangement of the rich scales that covered my body and I was ready to seize the day. With a flap of my wings I was out of the bathroom and down the hall. The apartment I’d called home for the last three years was small for a penthouse but cozy. dark earth tones was the color scheme and naval art lined the walls. Paintings of ships at sea and of stormy ocean currents lined the walls; bookcases dedicated to all forms of fictional literature such as epics, the occasional trashy romance novel (I grew up surrounded by mares who loved the stuff, get off my case!) and poems of all genres made up much of floor space of the halls.

The living room sported a large dark faux-leather sectional and a fireplace made up the north wall; pictures of friends, and family lined the mantle. So many memories locked in those pictures, all fond. I smiled gently and made for the kitchen. Popping the fridge open I pulled out the fixings for breakfast. Eggs, chilled sapphire dust, and bell peppers. The overhead cabinets offered up spices from around the world- a collection I was rather proud of I might add. The tip of my tale flicked the switch on the radio on the island as I set to work. Sapphire Shore’s sweet serenade came blasting out the speakers.

Oh hell yeah, Carriage Wash!

My tail swayed to the beat as I started chopping up the bell peppers, and scrambling the eggs. I hummed along as I lit the stove, the sizzle of eggs and bell peppers filling the air soon after. The aroma was alone enough to send my stomach into a rage. Another Shores’ classic burst through the speakers, sending me singing along softly. Two plates came dancing out the overhead cabinet courtesy of my tail and claws. One bell pepper omelet flipped off and landed deftly on a plate. There’s Pip’s.

The creak of a door down the hall summoned my attention. Speaking of Pip. Now would he be crawling, walking, or dead? Lets find out!

Out of his room waltzed Pipsqueak. Damn and I was going to bet on crawling.

Lanky, tall, and never without his trademark smirk (or smolder as he called it). Also by the opinion of every mare that has so foolishly followed him to our apartment with the promise of- and I do so quote- having their world thoroughly rocked, Pip was apparently handsome, dashingly so. Myself I think not! Oh and it seemed another mare had fallen victim to the lies. A pegasus mare who I had to admit was a smashing nine on the sacred hotness scale trailed after my obnoxious roommate. Lets see. Mental checklist is a go! Smeared, slept-in makeup (check), carrying shoes by straps on a primary (check), and- yes!- bright green dress is indeed wrinkled ever so slightly (All marks checked). Walk of shame in progress!

Pip hailed from Trottingham before ending up in Ponyville where he met one such as I. He has an accent thick as a stack of Twilight’s magical physics collection (a good fifty books strong this collection). My theory that stands as tall as the Lady of Harmony herself was that his accent was what reeled in the victims. He’s been my best friend for the better part of a decade, since those awkward puberty days. For him at least, dragons are ever in a state of flux, and its a right bitch let me tell you. I go to bed a stubby little hatchling one night and the next morning-bam!- taller than the average pony, slim, sleek and with a pair of wings to boot! Growing up came and went without so much as a first date. The nerve!

Back to our hero and his latest conquest. They were walking with barrels touching, whispering to each other in those cutesy voices. Pip was steering her to the door. A grin spread across my lips, my tail mischievously twitching behind me. Yes, we are going to mess with him, now handle the cooking food. Tail received the order and carried it out with gusto, even going so far as to flip my omelet. Such grace; a solid eight!

“Good morning!” I chirped as I rested my head on my claws, elbows propped up on the island.

The mare stopped in her tracks, her eyes fixing on me. Huh, violet irises, cute. “Honey I didn’t know you had a roommate.” Honey? Oh you poor misguided mare. I was tempted to break out the tissues now.

Pip’s eyes spoke vengeance most cruel and slow before he smiled. “Really? I thought I’d mentioned it last night. Ah well.”

“Yes I’m sure you did,” I said innocently. “I’m Spike. Do you two want some breakfast? I’m making omelets.”

I gave my wings a flap, allowing her a chance to see them at full span before snapping them back to my sides. Now little tidbit of info here. Pegasi love big wingspans, its like an aphrodisiac for them. Given my own wingspan, I’ve learned this fact the hard way. True to my ever working knowledge, the mare’s eyes followed my wings like a cat would follow a length of string. Would Pip end me if she actually pounced on me?

“That sounds wonderful,” she beamed then looked up at PIp. “Shall we honey?”

“But didn't you say you needed to leave early,” Pip responded. Points for the smooth attempt to overturn this potential train wreck, for him at least.

My omelet flipped onto my plate. Two points, I idly noted. The wings got another flap in, to waft the aroma of omelets made by a master chef. You want the eggy delight; yes you do.

“A little food wouldn't humph-” she was silenced by a pair of lips; Pip’s lips. He was able to pull her up to her hind hooves as he maneuvered her to the door. Moans sensual came from the pegasus’ throat as she was unwittingly moved toward the exit, and Pip’s escape. Crap that was smooth.

He broke the kiss as she cleared the threshold, beholding the gorgeous mare with a half lidded gaze. Damn it! That was checkmate. Curse his tongue with its swiftness and versatility. “I’ll call you tonight beautiful. Fly safe.” She nodded, that goofy grin still plastered there- with super glue no doubt. She stumbled a few steps toward the elevator.

Pip closed the door and whirled toward me, looking quite pleased with himself. “Lost this round.” Smug bastard…

I huffed, a stream of smoke escaping my snout. “Fine. Here’s your damn eggs.” I passed the plate over to him as he took his place at the bar.

“Ah. The fruits of victory.” He smacked his lips hungrily and chowed down. My, my the temptation to turn the work of art before my smug roommate to ash was nearly overwhelming. Realization came in knowing I'd made that work of art. Would a painter burn his prize piece after working so diligently to craft it? I think not!

I grumbled under my breath as I sprinkled the succulent sapphire dust on my bell pepper omelet. Wonderful combination really, the twist of cool minty flavor and peppered eggs. Call me crazy. I mean mint with eggs was peculiar, but it works. As I sat down Pip was already licking his lips and pushing his plate away.

“Would it kill you to just savor the meal instead of scarfing it down as if you hadn't eaten in days?”

“Take it as a complement.” He grinned and put the plate in the sink.

“More like a testament to the death of culture,” I grumbled and prepared to savor the first bite.

The phone rang just as the morsel was inches from my waiting tongue. Damn telemarketers. I tapped the speaker button. “Spike of Spike and Squeak speaking. How may I help you?” Pip flashed me a glare to which I stuck my tongue out at him, several times. His rebuttal was a shiver.

“Good its you.” I blinked. Prim Prose never called this early.

“Hi Primsy!” shouted Pip.

“Holy crap he’s alive. Spike why haven’t you killed him and devoured his corpse yet?” Yeah my agent hated my roommate.

“Love you too limp wings.” Feeling was mutual.

“Kill him and I will love you forever.” There was a shuffling on the other end. “Anyway listen.”

“You’re conscious at this hour,” I said with a grin, successfully interrupting her. “Surprise, surprise. “ I scooped up a mouthful of omelet. Mmmm so good.

“Oh haha.” Prim’s voice stayed monotone. Never a good sign. “Listen are you sitting down?”

Shit. “If I said yes will this news make me cry?”

“Depends,” she hesitated. “How emotional are you?”

“He bawled his eyes out at the end of Cloud Atlas. That should give you an idea.”

“Hey that was a damn good ending and you know it!” I turned on him with all the speed of a striking snake. “And don’t think I didn’t catch you wiping your eyes.”

“Ladies!” She sighed. “But true, dumb question. Spike sit.”

“I am not that emotional.” I’m not damn it. I crossed my arms over my chest and huffed indignantly. “Just tell me the news, I'm already sitting.”

“Okay.” She paused. “Get the phone off speaker.” I did just that. “Okay. Now its about your book.”

I paled. “W-what about it?” I gasped. “Has it dropped?! They’re taking it out of circulation aren’t they!” I’m screwed. My career, in shambles. My life, over- over I say! I may as well pack up and head for the nearest convent to serve Thoreil, the god of the fire-kin. ‘Woe is me!’, my mind cried along with me.

“Hey Drama Queen!” Prim is that you? I-I see the light. Should I go toward it?

A hoof collided with my skull, sending it slamming into the counter. A white flash of pain burst through my eyelids. I groaned, a claw going to my now aching skull as I glared at Pip. You little son of a…

Pip pressed the speaker button. “You’re welcome.” He clicked it once more, and I promised- nay!- swore fiery vengeance upon him and his descendants. I would live to see a thousand I could make it happen!

I put the receiver to my ear. “You know, he has his uses," Prim observed, her tone pensive. "You done freaking out? Okay, good. Now shut up and listen, I got a call from Canterlot today. Well it seems that someone is interested in turning your book into a play.” I blinked. And blinked again. Then once more for insurance purposes. “Spike?” I put the receiver down gently.

“Pip punch me in the shoulder.” My skull had already made contact with the marble counter once but it never hurt to be sure.

He looked at me like I was crazy, and trust me the feeling was mutual. “What?”

“Just do it.” And he did. Very, very hard. I wheezed at the pain. Yep I was lucid and awake, but damn that fucking hurt! “Geez not so hard!” I hissed through clenched teeth, rubbing my now sore shoulder with a tentative claw. .

“You asked, I delivered,” he replied with a chuckle. He gave a yawn and stretched. “Welp I’ve got auditions today, so I have to spruce up a bit.” He left with smug smirk. My glare followed him to his room, half hoping he would trip on that black silk robe of his. I know, I know petty thoughts. The robe hadn’t done anything to me, and it was such a fine silk garb. Got it for him for his twenty second birthday.

“Spike!!!” Whoops! I picked up the receiver in a hurry.

“Sorry. Can you repeat that?”

“Sweet Celestia, don’t scare me like that! I thought you’d keeled over or something.” She sighed for the third time I think. I never really kept count; she always sighs. “A big shot director from Canterlot wants to turn your book into a play.”

“One second Prim,” I said ever so sweetly and calmly. I set the receiver down once more, and stood up. “Yes!” I screamed as I jumped up and down, my wings aquiver at my sides. I felt like a million bits! My book, a play! I could hardly believe it! Hell to the yes! Ode to joy!

A muffled spew of profanities came from Pip’s room before he came stumbling into the living room, dripping wet no less with a soggy towel wrapped around him. “What?! What’s going on!?”

“Yes! Yes! Yes!” I screamed some more and swept Pip up in a hug. I twirled the hapless stallion around like rag doll, I didn’t care that he was sopping wet. Hell, it didn’t even bother me that he was dripping on the mahogany floors that I painstakingly worked to keep at a polished shine. Bliss sang in my mind, my heart a flutter with an abundance of joy. It was like I was in love all over again!

He struggled to get out of my grasp and succeeded. “What the bloody hell you sod?! You nearly gave me a buggering heart attack!”

“My book's going to be a play!” I gushed with a grin that threatened to split my skull. I continued to give a victory dance. Pip rolled his eyes and picked up the receiver.

“What’s he on about? Uh huh. Really? Nice. Oh yeah, guess who’s in a towel, and pleasantly damp.”

I could hear Prim scream my name once more. Pip’s holding the phone away from his ear told me I’d heard right. He passed me the phone looking pleased with himself. “Sorry,” I said sheepishly. “So who is this director?” I ignored Pip’s snickers as he retreated into his bedroom

“Keep that mouth breather away from the phone Spike,” she deadpanned. I could have sworn I heard her shiver on the other end. “For all I know his condition of being a complete tool is contagious. Anyway, never met her myself but she’s made one hell of a splash in the theatre community. An agent I know in Trottingham told me she’s the pony actors dream of being under to get their big break. She directed The Thera Crisis a year ago.”

I remembered that. It was one of the most controversial plays of this century. Now it was a cult classic. Pip raved about, saying it was sheer brilliance. And I had to admit it was. “So congrats rookie you made to the big time. Now her secretary told me she wanted to meet us tomorrow for lunch at Rožu Dārzs. Got a pen and paper next to you?”

“Yeah.” I pulled over my notepad, flipped it open and pulled the pen out. With a click I assumed the position. “Ready?”

“Three thirty sharp.” I jotted it down. “One hell of a snazzy place too. I looked it up. Up-town to be sure. Expensive too, like really expensive. She apparently insisted on paying the bill.”

“Sweet, free food.”

“There’s that too.” She laughed sharply. “So can I count on you to be there?”

“I’d be stupid not to come. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Grand. And Spike, congrats. You really earned this.” I smiled and thanked her. The receiver found its way home finally. I sat back, oddly calm, the singing in my blood having died down. I was...at peace. Was this what a buzz felt like?

I sat there until Pip came back into the dining room. He sported a dark blue sports jacket over a black t-shirt. Ah, a twist of formal and casual. HIs customary form of dress, and it worked for him.

“You gonna sit there with a stupid grin on your face or you comin’?”

“Yeah,” I said with a short chuckle. I walked lazily to my bedroom and scoured my closet. Lets see. I wore a crimson yesterday. I rifled through my wardrobe until I retrieved a sports jack a shade darker than my scales and pulled it on. After I was sure I looked ready to carpe diem. I walked out of the room, satchel in tow filled with various items I would need: notepad, pens, bit-bag. Pip locked the apartment with his key and we made our way for the elevator. It opened with a ding and we stepped in. The first floor button found itself pushed and we descended. When it opened the lobby in the midst of a morning rush greeted us.

Fellow patrons just beginning their days like us went to the large ornate glass doors in quick, hurried steps, either eager to start the day, or get it over with. More than likely both. Most wore sharp suits, or dresses. Several greeted us, well I should say me. Pip usually got an upturned nose, or a sneer. They’d grown used to him too. The atmosphere, and the décor of the lobby, reminded me of those years I’d spent growing up in Canterlot castle. Polished marble floors, people in fancy clothes, and maid staff running through the day’s routine. All that was missing were the stoic guards in shiny gold armor.

Oh crap. Pip’s pissed off Ms. Roots again. She glared at the two of us, well more Pip than me. I was delightful. Let me tell you she was the meanest griffin on the face of the earth. She snapped her beak and exited front door. I nudged Pip none too gently when I caught his grin.

“What’d you do this time?”

“Just told her she looked lovely yesterday.” He shrugged.

“Let me guess you added innuendo to your flirting?” Don’t know why I’m asking.

“You know me so well.” He trotted up to the counter as I cursed his very wake. One of these days someone’s going to geld him. Its up for debate whether it will be by the decree of pony-kind as a whole and carried out as though it were a public execution or by my own claws but it would happen one day.

“Ah Mr. the Dragon, Mr. Fivestar.” Arrivederci said, greeting us. He was Casa d'Argento's owner, and had been a good friend to Pip and I for many years. He was a distinguished Bitalian earth pony well into his fifties. His accent betrayed his place of birth, the Cicilia Isles. It was beautiful country actually, all rolling hills, sparse forest, and breath taking views of the Mediterranean from steep white rock cliffs. Being the assistant to Equestria's Head of International Affairs had its advantages all those years ago. Arrivederci wore a dark blue suit with a dark purple tie, smartly pressed and with a gold shield pinned to his lapel. We greeted him in kind.

His dapper gaze fell on my roommate. “Mr. Fivestar, I received another- ahem- comment from Ms. Roots. I would ask you to tone it down a bit.” He turned on me, and pushed a small bundle of letters my way. “Mail arrived sirs. All for Mr. the Dragon I’m afraid.” Pip deflated slightly. “I’m sure you’ll be receiving mail soon signore.”

“Yeah I doubt it,” Pip grumbled under his breathe. He shook his head and flipped his collar. “I’ll see you mate.” He made for the door with a grim swiftness to his step. I watched him go.

“Tis that time of the year non,” Arrivederci said sadly. I only nodded. That was the only downside to winter; it brought back bad memories for my best friend.

“Thank you,” I said addressing Arrivederci's kindness in holding our letters. I rifled through them. Lets see: bill, bill, notice from The Orchard- from Stain Inks. I smiled gently as Twilight’s horn-writing flashed across the last envelope.

“One from Signorina Twilight.” Arrivederci gave me a knowing smile. Caught red clawed.

“Yep.” I pushed the letters in my bag. Outside right hand pocket, neatly filed for later reading. “Have a good day Arrivederci.”

“You as well Mr. the Dragon,” he called after me as I exited the dual glass doors of Casa d'Argento.

Chapter Two

Manehatten, a bustling hub of culture, both modern and historical. Streets filled with carriages with passengers on the go, the sidewalks being a similar story, all on their way to work, or running errands. In the air, the sky roads were swamped with the morning traffic amid the tall skyscrapers of metal and glass. Pegasi, griffins and even the occasional hippogriff flew wing to wing in orderly straight lines, of which I was amid. I gained leeway of course due to my size, or rather the size of my wings- a perk of being a dragon. The morning passed in peace, well, a peace for the bustling metropolis could manage to sling my way.

I took the flight slow, relishing the air that promised a cold winter by the smell. Grey clouds hung low over the city, casting it in a fuzzy light as sunlight fought to filter through the thick cloud cover. It was a perk of the city’s close proximity to the sea. Weather near the winter and fall seasons was impossible for the pegasi to manage due to the winds that rolled in from the frigid North Sea waters.

The weather teams of Manehatten usually got the winter season off indefinitely because of this; I preferred it in all honesty. The idea of the weather always being manipulated to another’s design never sat well with me.

Noon came rolling around and I was done with the errands just in time for lunch. The rumble in my stomach and ache in my wings coaxed me to arrive at The Olive Branch with haste. It was on Moonlit Boulevard, just inside the Old City, a series of cobblestone streets and buildings older than Celestia. It was Manehatten's heart and indefinitely most beautiful part of the city. Pale green wooden panelling made up the exterior, a hoof painted sign hung above the single bell door. I smiled up at the chipped, pink letters before pushing the doors open.

The lunch rush had barely ended it seemed, as Fritter was smoking. The owner, head waitress and all around best font of wisdom I’d come to know. I'd been a patron of The Olive Branch ever since I discovered its existence, granted that day was dark and stormy.

“Ah Spike.” The dull mulberry earth pony blew out a ring of smoke from her cracked lips before snuffing out her cigarette. “Just missed it. A crap shoot it was.”

“And a right pain in the ass.” Berry walked out of the back, a busser tote on her back. She was dull blue with a dark purple mane. She was a sweeter, friendlier version of her aunt, same temper though. “Hi Spike!” She gave me a small hug before taking to cleaning off a few tables. “It was like a never ending river of people. They were everywhere. And Celestia they all wanted the jambalaya!”

Fritter laughed as she lit another smoke. “That’s the recipe for you.”

“Last I checked we were a Bitalian bistro,” Berry grumbled.

“You spoutin’ blasphemy child?”

“No ma’am,” came the sharp reply, followed by incoherent grumblings. Ah the love-hate relationship thrives still.

“Same thing as always, dragon?”

“Oh yes,” I said as again claimed my favorite spot. “Though you can wait a while. I’m meeting someone.”

“The bitchy one?” Fritter asked as she got my drink started, a strawberry tea, extra strawberry.

“Nope.” I smirked. “The fancy one.”

“Ah.”

She set my drink down. Berry came out of the back a moment later. “Bil wants to see ya.”

“Crap.” She snuffed out her cigarette. “What the fuck you want now!?” I chuckled as they both entered the kitchen.

Out of the corner of my eye I saw a sleek black carriage hauled by a strapping stallion in a dark red suit pull up. Out stepped none other than Rarity. She came through the bistro’s doors, pulled her sunglasses off, and headed right for my table. Tall, svelte, and with a coat of white a sheen of polished marble; Rarity was poetry in motion. She wore her indigo mane in a short bob, and a black pea coat was draped over her form. Her makeup was relatively darker, accenting her sapphire blue eyes with dark lavender.

There was once a time when the mere sight of it would send the dog on the back of my brain barking like mad. The days I spent pining after her that's all in the past now; she’s one of my best friends.

Rarity had become a veritable font of wisdom for any that had the brains to sit and listen. She grinned widely, showing off a set of teeth as white as her coat.

“Spikey-Wikey,” She gushed, pulling me into a hug as I stood up to greet her. “How’s my favorite dragon?”

“Oh you know,” I said with a deep chuckle and returned her hug. “Dealing with a roommate with a near sickening libido, co-managing a club, writing another book and getting nowhere. Life as always.”

“So true,” she agreed, giggling demurely. She noticed Berry shuffling nearby, I hadn't even noticed her exit the kitchen. “Ms. Sweet. So good to see you darling.”

“Y-you t-too Ms. R-Rarity.” Berry swallowed a lump in her throat- or her tongue- and pulled her notepad up. “W-what would you like to drink?”

“Oh I’ll have what Spikey is having.” Rarity took a seat as Berry stumbled into the kitchen. The white unicorn across from me sighed. “Really. I wish people wouldn’t titter around me like I was about to bite them.”

I grinned. “I’m pretty sure they would love that scenario.” I laughed as Rarity blushed faintly and swatted my arm with a hoof.

“Behave,” she said. “I’m sure they would have a heart attack if I did just that.” She sat back, and leaned her head against a hoof with a tired sigh.

"Rough week?" I asked.

Rarity had come a long way from owning a boutique in a small backwater town. She now owned and ran the biggest fashion magazine in Equestria, Exquisite. What she said was in, was in. Fashion designers died for her approval, would kill for it even. The merest shake of her head meant the end or beginning of a designer’s career. Everyday she dealt with armies of suck ups and snobs, most of them fashion designers. She still designed and made her own dresses to this day but over the years they became few and far between. I think she missed the old days, scrimping day to day in Carousel; things were so much simpler then.

As she opened her mouth to respond Berry set our drinks down and took our orders, spaghetti for me and a mushroom primavera for Rarity. Damn, that didn’t bode well, must be fashion week somewhere.

“Darling, you don’t know the half of it,” she said after taking a dainty sip from her glass. She hummed in approval. I took a sip from my own glass, greatly enjoying the silky-sweet taste. “I’ve been hard at work preparing for the fashion week in Poulis. Dealing with these new designers might end with me finding a new career in drinking, or taking a quick trip in the back of a patrol carriage.” She scoffed. “One of them even presented a showing with plaid. Plaid! Can you believe it?! I love Cheshire to death but I very nearly strangled the colt.” She folded her hooves against her chest, the disdain rolling off her in waves. “Then there’s Suri.”

I nearly spat my drink out. Suri!? “As in Polomare?!” I screeched, after managing to swallow my mouthful of tea, without choking.

“Indeed.” Rarity ran a hoof over her face. “Forgive my Prench but the mare is still a bitch. Granted she’s gotten much betterin the fashion area. I dare say she might even be the next big thing, but she’s a pain in my flank on a good day. Not only that but she has some sort of bitter rivalry going with Cheshire, and MIles.” She took another sip of her tea. “A one sided one at that. Cheshire ignores her, for the most part. Though I fear Miles might end up strangling her.”

“Thought about maybe pulling her aside?”

“I have! Twice! Par la déesse du soleil, I’m at the end of my rope. I’m tempted to let Hoity have her, Celestia knows he can whip her into shape.” An eyebrow rose to attention at that. Mr. Priss himself? “Don’t let him fool you Spikey, he’s worse than a drill sergeant on his designers, and his models for that matter. You know of Fleur de Lis correct?” I nodded. “Well Hoity is the one that turned her the celebutante she is today.” Rarity rapped a hoof on the tabletop. “Once fashion week is over I shall do just that.”

My ear fins perked up as I remembered Twilight’s letter, and a way to take Rarity’s mind off the dreaded fashion week. “Oh yeah! Got a letter from Twi.”

Rarity’s eyes sparkled as she jumped up in her seat with a filly-like glee. “Oh do tell darling. Details, details!”

“She’s okay,” I said, smiling softly. “She’s in Ironreach Eyrie overseeing the trade agreement between Rail Industries and Mirak’s Shipping. She says it might just end the threat of war from them. Though she’s finding herself at a loss at predicting Enigma's actions.”

“Who is that dear?”

“Rail’s CEO. If Twi’s calling her eccentric then she must be interesting.”

Rarity giggled demurely. “No doubt.”

“Besides that.” A knowing smirk found purchase on my snout. Rarity knew it well as her expression took on one of rapt intent. “Rainbow has…” I sat back, mischief sending my tail twitching. “I’m sure you’ll hear from Twi what happened soon enough.”

Two hooves, meticulously shined, clipped and cared for, gripped my collar. A sultry, predatory smile graced my friend's petite muzzle as it pressed against my snout. Her eyes held an icy inferno, ready to be unleashed upon the foolish. I froze like a rat before a poised cobra. “Spikey darling,” she breathed, "Finish what you were going to say or I’ll turn you into a purse. A fashionable purse, with deep red trimming, I think.”

Right, message received. I swallowed the lump that had formed itself in my throat and looked away from the frost-laden death gaze. “W-well you know how we’ve known Rainbow’s been pining for Twi since she entered the Royal Guard?” A nod followed my question. “Well, it seems she’s come forward with her feelings.”

Rarity gasped and that familiar sparkle entered her eyes. I’d seen that before, and it was to be feared. The idea of designing and making the wedding dresses herself was no doubt running rampant through her mind. She'd vowed to make a dress for each of her closest friends. I shivered when the week before Fluttershy’s wedding crossed my mind’s eye. My claws ached just thinking about it.

“Celestia, that’s wonderful!” she squealed clopping her hooves together. “I’ll have to send out a letter immediately!”

Our food arrived just then carried by a still jittery Berry.

“One red pepper spaghetti, extra pepper for you.” Berry set my plate down. A tower of steaming noodles took up my field of vision, the sweet scent of garlic, red pepper, and tomato sauce became all I knew. Rarity’s dish of primavera looked equally appetizing but was loaded with enough mushrooms to choke- well a dragon. Not so big on the mushrooms. “And for Ms. Rarity, a mushroom primavera.” She set it down, handling it as though it were a newborn foal. “Would you like anything else Ms. Belle. A refill maybe?”

“No thank you darling.”

Berry nodded and took off like her tail was on fire. I gazed longingly at the empty glass that sat forlornly to the side of my plate. Yeah, I certainly didn’t want anything. Without standing on ceremony I dug in. As I was halfway through the mountain of red pepper spiced pasta I remembered the great news I’d got that morning.

“Oh yeah,” I said after swallowing. “Got a call from Prim today. A director from Canterlot wants to turn my book into a play.”

The unicorn gasped. “My goodness Spikey that’s wonderful.” She reached over and pulled me into a tight hug. “Well who is it darling?”

No words came out as I realized I didn’t actually know. “Prim didn’t tell me. Must have been the excitement of it all.”

“Nonetheless,” Rarity declared, tapping her hoof decisively on the table top. “A celebration is in order.” Her face fell. “And I have to be in Poulis tonight. Darn it all.”

“We’ll celebrate when you get back. I promise.” I smiled gently. “Though I’m on the fence about telling Sweetie just yet.” An understatement really. Mare overreacted, with a capital O. She’d make sure to have the club jumping in celebration.

“Hold off and she’ll find out,” Rarity said, looking at me knowingly over her pasta laden fork. “And then stars help you.” She giggled. “Is everything alright with her? She seemed distracted last we spoke.”

I enjoyed another forkful of pasta before continuing. "Some pony has been buying up clubs on Blithe Street. Pip thinks they might set their sights on the Note.”

“Pip would also think Atlantis is at the bottom of his shot glass.” Rarity sniffed. “How is the-” She stopped as she caught my sidelong glance. “He?”

I shrugged. “It’s that time of the year.”

Rarity’s expression changed to one of understanding. “Oh, I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine. He’ll pull through as always.” I clacked my teeth together. “So when are you going to let his pass at you go?”

Her teeth snapped together forcefully on her fork. She regarded me with a look of derision. A rare expression at least when conveyed at me. I was on eggshells at this point but a blood feud between two of my best friends was not something I would call an ideal situation to begin with.

“It's been three months and besides he was blitzed at the time," I said.

“Spikey, let’s not sour this lunch date with an ill-conceived intervention.” She looked away. “Please.”

I relented with a nod. “Alright but one day I hope you’ll put it behind you.”

Rarity sighed. It was a touchy subject, Pip. “Thank you.” She looked at her watch.

“Blast it all. I’ve got to get in touch with Corill. I hate to cut this short Spikey, but I must be off.” She stood up and pulled her wallet out of her purse. I stopped her.

“I got this.” I smiled up at her as she began to protest. “I know, I know but I want to this time. Besides, you always pay. Give a guy a chance to pay for the lovely lady once in a while.”

She smiled coyly and fluttered her eyelashes. Even after all this time that still got my pulse going. “Very well, darling.” She gave me a kiss on the cheek. Damn it heart, quick the throbbing, we’re over her. Tell that to the meltdown we’re in the midst of. That little voice in the back of my mind had a point. Bastard with his points and crap.

“And congrats, Spikey.” She placed her sunglasses on her muzzle. “Ciao!”

I watched her go, a goofy grin plastered on my snout. She stepped out before saying goodbye to Berry. She said something to her chauffeur before stepping inside as he opened the door for her. After the carriage sped off, I decided to give my chilling pasta the attention it so rightly deserved.