Because Three Makes for a Crowded Tango
Rarity stared down at the little dragon before her, the arid desert wind rustling her mane against her neck. "Spike," she began with a curious tone, "what in Equestria are you doing out here?"
"I'm putting an end to this, Rarity," Spike replied, "once and for all."
Rarity cocked her head to one side. "An end to what?"
Spike sighed, turning to face Rarity and shifting on his knees. "This love triangle. I can't live like this anymore. It has to stop." He directed a claw ahead of himself. "So I'm cutting him out of the picture."
"Spike"—Rarity pointed with her own hoof—"that's a rock."
The little dragon's eyes narrowed. "Don't try to hide it from me anymore. I know what's been going on. I know why you haven't been inviting me over to help you around the boutique. I know all about..." He turned to the boulder, put one hand against it, and hissed the name that always left a bitter taste on his tongue. "Tom."
Rarity's hoof met her face. "Spike, it's a rock." She brought her hoof back to the ground, continuing, "And Sweetie Belle has been helping me enough, lately. She practically lives at the boutique, these days. Stop being so silly."
"With him gone, then it'll just be you and me, Rarity." Spike's clawed hands came together and he hunched forward. "Just you and me. Nothing will ever come between us again." A chuckle rose from Spike's throat, soon turning to a cackle as he raised his fists above his head. "Nothing will stop us! We'll have it all, Rarity! You an' me! Forever!"
"I'd also like to remind you that jealousy is most unbecoming," Rarity deadpanned.
Spike's laughter eased up a bit as he stood, clutching a pickaxe in his claws. He raised it up above his head, it's shadow falling across Tom the Rock. Under his breath, he said, "There can be only one."
Rarity reached a hoof out suddenly. "Don't—"
Spike's pickaxe fell, but struck only bare ground. "Wha..." He pitched his head up to find Tom sitting some feet ahead of him. Spike's brow furrowed. "How did it..."
"Spike!" Rarity stomped a hoof. "You stop this right now!"
The dragon took a few steps forward, bringing the pickaxe back up. The boulder slid away from his swing, burying the steel pick in the dirt. "No way," Spike said, watching Tom lift up off the ground and start to float towards him. "No way!"
"Oh no," Rarity breathed, forehooves flying to her mouth. "Tom? Tom, please, he didn't mean anything by it. He's confused, he's—" Rarity sucked in a gasp as Tom lunged forward into Spike's confused face, knocking him to the ground. "Tom, please! He's young, he just doesn't understand his feelings."
Spike had dropped the pickaxe and was crawling backwards, wide eyes locked on the boulder looming over him. "Rarity, what's going on?!" Tom dropped suddenly, and Spike barely scrambled out of the way before it slammed into the ground, leaving a sizable dent where Spike had just been.
"He's a child, Tom!" Rarity shrieked. "He's only a child!"
His claws snatched up the pickaxe, and Spike held it up in front of him. "So you wanna do this the hard way, huh? Fine," he said to the floating boulder. Tom said nothing, and merely hovered sideways, circling Spike. The dragon held his pick tight, tilting it a little to one side. "Let's do this."
Spike hopped forward, only to be tossed right back by another blow from Tom. The stone came for him again, but Spike flailed his pick, ushering Tom back while the dragon got to his feet. He went on the offensive, stepping forward, swinging with his weapon, and driving his opponent away. With a leap and a grunt, the steel pickaxe at last made contact, chipping off a cluster of flakes from Tom's surface.
"No!" Rarity's backside was planted in the dirt and her forehooves were still over her mouth. "Stop it!"
Tom spun his pointy end around and slid under Spike, flipping the dragon into the air. The pick clanged against the dry ground, and Spike landed only a few feet from it. He reached a hand out to snatch it back up, but Tom swooped in and dropped right on his outstretched claws. Spike gasped in pain, sucking a bit of dust into his lungs.
"Just stop it!" Rarity yelled, moisture starting to compile against her eyeballs.
Through Spike's ensuing coughs, he tried to liberate himself. He scratched, punched, and even slapped, yet his stony opponent didn't yield. Only when he grabbed onto the boulder and dug his sharp claws into it did Tom lift up enough to free Spike's hand.
Spike didn't have time to savor the feeling of not having his hand crushed, though, for as soon as he'd withdrawn it, Tom was already making his next move. The boulder lifted and spun, freeing itself of the dragon's grasp and flinging the little dude off. A series of groans and grunts issued from Spike as his body bounced across the desert floor. He tried to get up, but again came Tom, bashing him one, twice, thrice back down.
Spike was flat on his stomach, cheek resting on a few scattered pebbles and kicking up dust with his labored breaths. Tom loomed over him, circling for a few more seconds, waiting. All Spike did was shift onto his back, however, and so the boulder drifted away. He slid through the air in silence, leaving the dragon behind and approaching the weeping mare nearby.
Rarity's head was down, muzzle pointed at the muddied spot where her tears had fallen. Tom brought his pointier end up under her chin, lifting her gaze. She spoke no words to the stone gladiator.
Spike watched the two from his spot on the ground. Watched as Tom pressed himself up against the most beautiful mare in Equestria. His eyes narrowed and his fists clenched. "Rarity..." Her name slid from his lips, his fangs meshing together to vent out the syllables. "Spike want..." Smoke shot from his nose and his body quivered. He hissed again through his teeth, "Spike want!"
With a burst of flame from his lips, his back arched, its length growing with a crackling sound. He rolled over and off his back, lifting one of his expanding fists and punching it into the dirt. He pushed off the ground with his knuckles, lifting up his body as it stretched, joints popping and shifting under his scales. Hard spines slid out from his back. His snout lengthened and sharpened almost to a point. Every limb pushed out further and further. A low growl seethed out of his mouth, its pitch dropping ever lower.
Tom had moved away from Rarity, hovering a few feet above the ground as Spike's body twisted and reshaped itself. A dragon's mighty roar echoed off the Macintosh Hills to the south. It was a sound not heard in those parts for decades, and it sent almost everypony within a hundred miles into a panic. Transformation complete, Spike turned, one big foot stomping into the ground and kicking up a little brown cloud. He stood nearly as tall as an alicorn princess of old, and his long, thick arms hung heavy at his sides. He looked at Rarity, shooting her a thin, fang-loaded grin.
Rarity's mouth hung open. "How... how did you..."
Tom lunged forward, but the back of Spike's scaly hand smacked him aside without the dragon even looking. Tom halted in midair, pausing for just a second before launching back toward Spike. The dragon caught the boulder in his hands, snorted out a cloud of black smoke, and shoved Tom away with a growl. The flying boulder stopped again, hanging in the air some twenty feet away.
Spike plucked up a chunk of nearby sandstone and crushed it into powder between his palms. His hands rubbed the dust over one another before flinging the excess to either side. He brought both arms up, one set of claws curling into a fist beside his face as another plume of smoke slid from his nostrils. The other hand reached out toward Tom and merely flexed its claws back, beckoning his opponent.
Tom pitched forward, leaning his flatter end toward Spike, and rocketed himself at the dragon. A swirling trail of dirt and sand followed in the mighty stone warrior's wake, sending pebbles tumbling away. Spike cocked his fist back and flung it forward.
Rarity shielded her face against the blast even as it almost took her hooves out from under her. She squinted her eyes and waved one hoof, clearing the particulate fog away from her face. There stood Spike, his fist pressed against a web of thin cracks running halfway across Tom's surface. A little crater stood between the two fighters. Rarity swallowed. "You... you can control your dragon powers? How? You... I thought dragons couldn't... that they had to be greedy..."
"It's my little secret, Rarity." Spike glanced over at her with that same toothy smile. "I'm always greedy." He grit his fangs, flame shooting out between them, and pulled his other fist back. The ground shook with the force of the haymaker he sent into Tom's side, blasting the rock into a distant hillside. The shockwave nearly sent Rarity tumbling away once again. Spike didn't even blink against the shower of pebbles and shattered rock as he lumbered forward.
Tom wrenched free of the fresh crater he'd made and launched through the air at his opponent. Spike's hands snapped up, catching Tom and digging in with his claws. He twisted and spun, swinging Tom around and tossing him at the sky like a horribly misshapen discus. Dust flew up behind Spike as he kicked off the ground, leaping high into the air and pressing his fists together. His clenched claws came down on Tom, pounding the boulder right back down and into the ground like a stone volleyball.
Tom wiggled up out his new divot and barely rolled aside in time to avoid Spike's high-flying elbow drop. The dragon groaned, smoke rolling up from the crater, and he slowly got back to his feet. Tom was wobbling a little as he pitched over and rammed his pointy end into Spike's gut. Spike's toe talons tore ten trenches in the terrain under the force of the boulder's thrust. He wrapped his arms around Tom, claws raking and freeing a shower of stony flakes in their wake.
At last, his feet found solid purchase, and he halted the big rock's advance. He shifted and slipped around, tucking Tom up under one of his bulging arms. Spike hunched, toes clamping down and more smoke seeping from his nose. He sharply twisted backward, arching his back and swinging Tom over his shoulder to drive him into the ground with a thunderous crash.
Tom tried to slide away, but Spike flipped right over and crawled after the boulder like some devilish lizard. He straddled Tom and unleashed a storm of punches on his foe with his scaled fists of dragon lust. Chips and shards of stone shrapnel showered the scenery. Spidery cracks spread across Tom's surface. Tom twitched and rolled, but had nowhere to go.
Meanwhile, Rarity wailed on the sidelines, screaming to the heavens, "Why? Why?! Oh, why?!"
Spike's breath caught in his throat, and he paused his barrage to glance toward the weeping mare. It was all Tom needed, and he bucked Spike forward. Spike had to catch himself on his hands, but had no time to do anything else before Tom slid out from under him, flipped around, and bashed into Spike's spine.
The air left Spike's lungs. He opened his mouth to gasp, but he couldn't get any air into his flattened sacks. A shadow fell on the ground around him, and Spike whipped his head around. His mighty stone opponent was dropping straight toward him. He twisted and spun onto his back, limbs extending to stop Tom's assault. It took both arms, both legs, and even his tail, but Tom was halted a few feet from Spike's chest.
A sound not unlike steel-on-steel issued from Spike's clenching fangs, all five of his limbs quivering as they held back the boulder. Inch by inch, Tom pressed closer to Spike, threatening to crush him like a grape under a boot. At last, Spike managed to get his breath back. He sucked in a massive lungful of precious air, squinted his slit eyes, and let out his breath as a jet of green flame. Fire blasted across Tom, licking up around him as it reached for the sky. Spike paused to get another load, then let loose another torrent. He could smell that the rock was cooking.
Rarity's lament continued as she lay draped across a chaise lounge, its upholstery matching nicely with the desert's natural color scheme. One hoof was resting against her forehead. "Oh, Celestia, I will lose them both!"
Heavy droplets of liquid Tom fell onto Spike's scaly chest, and the boulder finally relented his assault. He launched back and away from the flames, wobbling through the air as he went. Half of his body was glowing bright orange, and he was dripping all over the desert battlefield. Tom had but a few seconds to recover before Spike tackled him. Tom tried to pull away, but Spike just kept advancing, his claws rending soft chunks out of Tom's molten body. Within seconds, nearly half of Tom's mass had been shed.
Spike's hand plunged deep into his opponent, coming back with a fistful of lava. He held up the glob between himself and his enemy. "It's over, Tom," he said, squeezing thick, wide noodles of the stuff through his scaly fingers. "You're finished. Rarity is—"
Tom suddenly rotated sideways and rammed Spike, his softened form molding around the dragon's midsection. Spike's arms wrapped around the boulder as it lifted him up, his feet leaving the ground behind. Tom swung the grown dragon up, over, and right back down, smashing his skull into the ground with a crack. Dislodged from the boulder's grasp, Spike grabbed his own head, groaning and rolling onto his back. One eye squinted out from behind his claws, scanning the area for Tom, but the stone was nowhere to be seen.
Dust fell from Spike as he got back onto his feet, one hand still gripping his aching head. "Where... where is..." Spike's gaze shifted to Rarity. Her muzzle was pointed up and both her forehooves were over her mouth. Slowly, Spike's eyes turned skyward. There, silhouetted against the midday sun, was the half-moon shape of the battle-damaged boulder. Spike snarled, squinting as he watched.
The speck drew closer, Tom dropping from his once-great height. The air under Tom compressed to the point of ignition, turning him into a fireball, a blazing star shooting toward the ground. Miles away, a loving couple made a wish.
Spike reached his clawed hands up, brushing desert dust from his shoulders, head, and chest. His knuckles cracked against one another and his tongue roved through his mouth. He turned his head, spitting out a wad of mud, and brought his gaze back up to the plummeting chunk of rock. As Tom began to spin, Spike balled his hands into fists and cocked one back, eyes narrowed. The stone drill drew closer. A bead of sweat slid down Spike's face. His arm muscles twitched. Dust fell from his scales. His fist launched upward.
The blastwave swept the desert floor clean, upending Rarity's inexplicable furniture and utterly ruining her mane. A dusty mushroom rose up, blocking out Celestia's Pride and bathing the battlefield in shadow. As the sound came back to Rarity's deafened ears, she could hear the pebbles raining down all around her.
She gently pushed the ruined chaise lounge off of her back, holding it up in her magic like a chair umbrella. Her hooves slid out from under her as she tried to stand, suddenly finding herself on an incline. A massive crater stretched out all around her, a glowing-red lump of rock sitting at its center. Spike was nowhere to be seen.
For a time, the only sound was that of debris settling back down from its temporary new home in the sky. Two streams of tears slid silently down Rarity's soiled face. Mascara blackened her cheeks. She turned away, eyes falling shut, and started walking. Then she stopped, suddenly, her ears and hooves sensing a muffled thud. She looked back over her shoulder, mouth hanging slightly open. A second thud came, this one louder than the first. The still-glowing Tom shuddered a little, but remained where he sat. Rarity stood still, watching, waiting, but no more thumps came.
Instead, Tom shifted, one lumpy side of him sinking into the dirt. A horrid grinding, cracking sound rose up from the now-apparent hole beneath the boulder. A scaly, purple hand shot up from the ground, clawed fingers digging into Tom and ripping out a lump of granite. The hand withdrew, and that horrible crunching sound resumed. Rarity's jaw dropped.
Tom scooted sideways a few inches, but he was too weak to go any further. Spike burst out from under him, claws gripping Tom and tearing pieces off. He shoved the rent rocks into his mouth, mashing them into powder with his dragon teeth and swallowing the stony mud down. Spike smiled. "Did you forget, old boy?" he asked the boulder. "I eat rocks like you for breakfast."
With a final roar, Spike tore into what remained of Tom, gobbling him down in a most-uncouth spray of flecks and shards. Within seconds, there was nothing left of the once-mighty stone warrior. Tom was no more. Spike stood slowly, panting through his dirty teeth. His arms hung at his sides, shaking just a bit. He took a few stumbling steps before he got his legs under proper control, heading toward his prize.
Rarity stood by her ruined chaise lounge. She closed her mouth and swallowed once, watching Spike approach. There was no joy in her ocean eyes. As Spike reached for her face, she turned from him. He stopped, hand held out and eyes locked on her. He brushed a claw against her cheek, and she pulled away, her head shaking. A sniffle escaped her muzzle, and she walked off with no words.
Spike's outstretched hand fell back to his side as he watched her leave. He glanced over his shoulder at the hole he'd crawled out of, then down at his own granite-stained claws. His eyes clamped shut, fists clenching, and his body shrank back to its normal size. "Spike want," he whispered, opening his shining eyes to see Rarity disappear over the crater's edge. He fell to his knees, leaned his aching body forward, and puked out a puddle of lava.
