Apple Bloom glanced away from her work as the barn’s rafters creaked. The walls rattled with each cold buffet from outside. The last days of summer had come with shifting temperatures and changing winds, though she remained warm and cozy inside her makeshift workshop.
She blinked beneath her massive safety glasses. Thick enough to stop a flying chip of metal, sealed tight enough to protect her eyes from the chemicals she worked with. Her latest potion bubbled over the burner. It was nearly ready for the next ingredient.
On cue, the test tube mixer beside her whirred to a halt. She removed a tube and poured the liquid into the potion itself. A hiss accompanied a cloud of noxious gas, which was quickly sucked into a vacuum she’d hung over the worktable. No point in getting sick for science.
She stuck her tongue out. “Not exactly somethin’ I’d wanna ingest just yet.”
“I’ll relay your opinion to the chef.”
Apple Bloom’s ears stood up. She looked over her shoulder with a smirk. “When did you get in here, Spike?”
A purple-scaled, young adult of a dragon sat on the end of her wagon—the Crusadermobile, she’d dubbed it—kicking his hind legs. The muscles on his arms tightened as he balanced himself. “Oh, you know, a while ago. I didn’t wanna interrupt you this time, because—”
“This potion ain’t liable to explode.” Apple Bloom dropped a preservative tablet into her brew. She tugged at her lab coat; it was starting to feel a little warm in the closed-off, dusty barn. “Put on some safety goggles before I put your eye out.”
Spike slid the gear over his face with an elastic snap. He hopped off the wagon and crawled closer on all fours. “Whatcha workin’ on today?”
“A project for Applejack, actually.” Apple Bloom took a pencil between her lips and jotted down a note. “Bugs ’re gettin’ in the orchards like you wouldn’t believe. She wants somethin’ we can coat the apples with to get the bugs to shy away, but won’t harm the fruit.”
Spike leaned in close to the bottle. His nose wrinkled at the awful smell. “What’s it do to the bugs?”
“Right now it just gives ’em a bad case of the scoots. I’m trying to shift it so it’s more of a deterrent than a punishment, and that means the… icky stuff has to take effect immediately.” The potion reached the point where all the ingredients were perfectly fused. Apple Bloom extinguished the burner. “I don’t wanna kill the creepy crawlies outright, even if AJ says that’s the best way to handle an infestation.”
Spike crossed his arms. “Leaving the bugs alive is your version of teenage rebellion?”
“I’m barely a teenager anymore.” Apple Bloom sucked on the pencil’s eraser as she looked over her calculations. “So it don’t count.”
Spike set his over-the-shoulder bag down and rummaged through it. “Hay, I got something for yah.”
“Oh yeah?” Apple Bloom’s eyes went wide. She corked the potion bottle and set it aside to age a few days. She turned to Spike with a barely-repressed grin. “You mean Twilight said yes? She gave me a piece? Oh my gosh I can’t tell you how awesome this is! It could be the source of a real breakthrough in our studies! Why if this works right, we might be able to call the entire program a succ—”
Spike placed a single finger on her lips. Her words pattered to a standstill.
“Yes. Yes she did” He bared his teeth in a friendly sort of smile. “Motor mouth.”
She pulled off her goggles, and a deep impression was left behind in her coat. She rubbed at the mussed up hair, though she figured it just made it worse. “You know how it is. Can’t keep it in.” She unbuttoned her lab coat and waved him on with a hoof. “Well? Let’s see it!”
He held a small, clear container between his fingers. A fragment of gold-colored metal floated inside, glinting as it spun in the light.
“A shard of Royal Guard armor.” She clapped her hooves and let out a tiny squee. “Ain’t never seen anythin’ like it!”
“Well, it’s not quite a piece of actual armor.” Spike placed it in her hooves so she could get a closer look. “It’s never seen action. It was just the largest piece they were willing to give Twilight. The formula for the alloy is so secret they won’t even say its name outside of the manufacturing plant. What do you think’s in it?”
“A lil’ gold, obviously. If only tah hold the enchantment.” Apple Bloom tilted the box. The metal drifted around like fluff in a snow globe. “Maybe some iron or tungsten? I know this stuff is tougher than you’d think, but I dunno. I’m not exactly a metallurgist.”
Spike came alongside her and bumped his shoulder against hers. “Will it work?”
“It’s worth a try.” She set the box on the table. She lowered her head so that it was at eye-level. It was gorgeous, in her mind, like a little piece of jewelry floating on a cloud. “I’ll grind it into powder and see if’n we can’t make somethin’ magical out of it.”
Apple Bloom pressed her lips against the tip of his nose. Her hoof trailed down the side of his face as she smiled. “Thanks, Spike.”
“My pleasure.” His hands wrung together. His tail swished against the dirt floor of the barn. “I hope it works out.”
“Even if it don’t, it’s still a step forward.” She flipped a few pages back in her notebook. She tapped a hoof against a specific page: She had a formula—just theory at the moment—for a potion that could coat a pony in a thin, protective armor. If she played her cards right, it would be strong as all get out, removable at will, and conform perfectly to the pony’s body. A second skin.
“Are you doing anything tomorrow?”
“Huh?” Apple Bloom glanced up from her scribbles. Spike tapped his fingers together, examining the rest of the barn with great interest. “Probably just doin’ a lil’ handiwork around the farm. Fixin’ up supper with AJ. Playin’ with baby Cinnamon. The usual. Why?”
“Well, how would you feel about doing something unusual?” Spike sat on his haunches. He rocked back and forth, his eyes darting. “I mean, like—how long have we been doing this? Five months?”
“If by ‘this’ you mean ‘hangin’ out,’ seven.” Apple Bloom ran a hoof through her red mane. “February was the big snowstorm, remember?”
“I’m not likely to forget.” The purple scales on Spike’s cheeks took on an orange hue. “But I was thinking, we like each other, we hang out all the time, why not go on… a date?”
Apple Bloom’s heart skipped a beat. Words ran through her head to tumble out her mouth. “What? You really mean it? Just me an’ you an’ nopony else? Gussyin’ up an’ eatin’ at a nice restaurant an’ walkin’ beneath the moonlight and longin’ gazes into each other’s eyes an’—”
Spike touched his finger to her lips. She shut her mouth tight, but let one last thoughts slip out: “I thought you wanted to wait for, well, for this sorta thing until we got the whole ‘pony plus dragon’ equation sorted out.”
“Yeeeah, well…” Spike scratched a dead scale loose from his forehead. It flaked to the floor like a leaf. “I’m not dumb enough to think that’s all sorted out… It’s not like we can’t really do, um, normal date-ish stuff. I just won’t, you know, touch you.”
Apple Bloom leaned back against the table, resting her elbows atop it. “Should I give you a moment to work the heebie-jeebies out so’s we can actually talk?”
She suppressed a giggle when she saw Spike forcibly stop his knees from knocking. If she had a runaway mouth, he had a hitch in his get-along. She flashed him a reassuring smile and lifted her eyebrows ever so slightly.
He let out a whoosh of fire-cooked breath. “Apple Bloom, I’ve realized pretty recently that life is too short to wait around and sit on my hands. Would you accompany me to a night on the town?”
Yep, there’s the Spike she went googly-eyed for. Assured and gentlecoltly. She laid the “country belle” on thick. “Why yes, Spike. It would delight me greatly. At what time would you prefer to begin?”
Now his cheeks and forehead were lit up with a sunrise-orange. “I—I was thinking around five. T-tomorrow. We can go to a movie, get supper, and… and maybe watch the performers in the town square. Take a walk through the park.”
“Make it a walk through the orchard and you got yourself a deal.” Apple Bloom hunched her shoulders and raised her eyes to the groaning rafters. “There’s some apples we haven’t harvested from th’ west orchard that look right pretty in the evenin’.”
“Orchard. Sounds great.” Spike leaned against the Crusadermobile and swung a jaunty arm. “I’m taking you to a pretty nice dining spot, so be sure to dress up—”
His arm went straight through the wood. He lost his balance and tumbled, breaking the rest of the cart right off its axle. He lay on his back amidst the rubble, staring at the ceiling, until Apple Bloom hopped over to help him up.
“I kinda already know the answer,” she said, “but are you hurt?”
“No. I’ve got thick scales.” Spike sat up and hunched over, resting his claws on his knees. “Sorry about your cart.”
“She needs a little fixin’ up anyhow.” She cast a single glance at the previously-pristine vehicle before pushing it from her mind. She slipped her foreleg around his shoulders and pressed her cheek against his. “Pay it no mind.”
Spike slowly, carefully, touched his claw to her hoof. He shut his eyes and breathed deep. “I’m glad we’re doing this.”
“Me, too.” Apple Bloom snickered. “But with all the talk we’re givin’ this, you wouldn’t think we were just goin’ out on a first date.”
“Yeah, well, maybe it deserves the talking.” Spike arched his eyebrows. His tail made little swirling motions in the dirt floor. “It’s a bigger step for us than it would be for most people. It feels like it, anyway.”
Apple Bloom pulled the safety glasses from his eyes. She booped his nose before returning to her workstation. “It’s just one step, though. Journey of a thousand miles. Got a long way to go.”
The prickle along her back told her Spike’s eyes were still locked on her. “I hope so,” he said.
Apple Bloom folded her lab coat and flicked off the lights. “You wanna have supper with us? You’re always welcome.”
Spike stood on his hind legs and looped his bag’s strap across his strapping chest. “Sorry, not tonight. I promised Twi I’d meet her at the café and look over her research notes. She might be near a breakthrough with vocalization technology and wants a pair of fresh eyes.”
“Okay.” Apple Bloom walked side-by-side with him to the door. She flipped the latch up and let the chilly wind flow in. A glance at Spike saw him shivering, pressing a hand over his heart. Their eyes locked.
Words rushed to her mouth. “Spike, I l—”
Thoughts rushed through her head. Don’t mess this up. Don’t make this weird. Don’t rush it. Don’t embarrass yourself. Don’t trip. Don’t lie. Don’t tell the truth. Hold it. Wait. “I look forward tah… to tomorrow. See you tomorrow.”
“See you then.” Spike smiled, wrapped a scarf around his neck, and began his long walk back into town. Apple Bloom watched him until he curved around a bend, vanishing from sight.
Apple Bloom would have kicked herself right in the butt if she could. She settled for stomping a hoof and making way for the farmhouse. Supper was steaming through the windows, and candlelight promised a warm welcome and a cozy fireplace. She ducked under the doorway and hung her coat on the rack. She glanced at the doorframe and studied a series of nicks just above eye-level.
Sometimes she couldn’t tell if inheriting her brother’s height was awesome or horrible. “Little of both, I guess.”
“What’s that, sis?” Applejack shouted from the kitchen. “Say somethin’?”
“Just ‘hay.’” Apple Bloom trotted into the kitchen and took a seat at the table. “Big Mac comin’?”
“He’ll be along. Them all just needed to pick some things up at the school.” Applejack shut off the burner and let her mane hang loose. She shook her locks out, letting her wilder side show after spending a day in a stuffy office. “Can I just tell you how much I hate city hall? It’s worse than the mornin’ after eatin’ spoiled plums.”
“I’m sure all the hard work’s appreciated, Applejack.” Apple Bloom dwarfed the empty plate Applejack set in front of her. It was a bread plate, so Applejack must’ve been working on a darn big supper. “The farm sure does miss you when you ain’t here.”
“Yeah, well, tell that to Ponyville.” Applejack tossed a fancy cravat—the symbol of her status as Mayor of Ponyville—across the room. It spiraled like a horseshoe before looping around the back of her chair. “Anythin’ interestin’ happen today?”
Apple Bloom pressed her lips together. She tapped her hooves. A small voice eased its way out of her mouth. “Spike asked me on a date.”
Applejack would not have frozen quicker, or more painfully, if she had been dunked in water and tossed outside Yakyakistan. She turned eyes as wide as the bread plates towards Apple Bloom. “Come again, li’l sis?”
“Spike asked me out on a date tomorrow.” Apple Bloom tilted her ears down. “I said yes.”
Applejack sat in the chair so hard that the legs squeaked against the floor. She briefly eyed the carving knife on the wall before finding the words to speak. “Um. Y’all know he’s a dragon.”
“Yes, Applejack, yes I know he’s a dragon.” Apple Bloom pressed a hoof against her forehead. “A fire-breathin’, gem-crunchin’, scale-armored, sharp-toothed, mightiest creature in the world dragon. That much is painfully, readily obvious.”
“Right.” Applejack was sweating from every pore in her body. “And that sorta—it makes, you know, relations—I mean it’s physically impossible to—”
“I am well aware,” Apple Bloom said through gritted teeth, “that havin’ sex with Spike would kill me.”
The kitchen became incredibly, phenomenally quiet. There was only a faint simmer from the stove.
“It ain’t about that,” Apple Bloom whispered. “It’s just two people spendin’ time together.”
Applejack swallowed a lump in her throat and turned away. “What if there ain’t no future to it? What happens if you guys find out there ain’t no way for it to work?”
“Maybe it will work out.” Apple Bloom reached behind her head to undo her bow. “That’s what we’re experimentin’ for. It’s what we’re tryin’ to figure out. I think we’re makin’ progress, too. Just trust me, alright?”
Applejack’s ear twitched at the cry of the timer. She limped over to the food and pulled down the temperature. “I do trust you, AB. I ain’t gonna get in your way.”
She looked over her strong shoulder. “But trust me that when I say this, it’s ’cause I care about you. Don’t let this get to the point where it’s unhealthy. Don’t go pinin’ after somethin’ you shouldn’t have.”
Apple Bloom leaned back. The door opened, and the sounds of three sets of hooves—Mac, his wife, and his daughter—rumbled from the entrance. “It’s just a date, Applejack.”
“Yeah right,” Applejack muttered, just loud enough for Apple Bloom to hear. “An’ I’m just a farmer.”
***
Apple Bloom swiveled her ears. She didn’t normally wear earrings. It was just asking for them to get caught if you wore them around the farm, and dropping one in an elixir was likely to dissolve it outright. The Apples didn’t have much in the way of fancy jewelry in the first place, on account of there being little need of looking fancy. But “little need” didn’t mean “never need.”
The golden studs, with a red gemstone in the center, had belonged to her mother. It felt a little weird wearing the jewelry of a pony she’d never really known, but heck if they didn’t look fantastic. The way they complemented the dress Sweetie Belle tailor-made to fit her taller frame left her with no doubt that she would be stealing Spike’s breath away. She had to give herself a double-take when she first saw her reflection.
Applejack’s face appeared beside hers. “Shucks, sis. Ain’t even words.”
“Y-yeah. I clean up pretty nice, huh?” Apple Bloom rubbed her cheeks to even out her makeup. Her heart ratta-tat-tatted somewhere in her stomach. “Barely even know it’s me under all that.”
Applejack smiled. “Nah. Ain’t a single doubt it’s you. Couldn’t be anypony else.”
Apple Bloom looked down at her big sister. She nudged her shoulder. “Cryin’ on the inside yet?”
“Hush up and head downstairs.” Applejack might have rubbed her eyes, but Apple Bloom couldn’t be sure. “I think we’ve kept poor Spike waitin’ long enough.”
It was an all-too-long walk down the hall, and an all-too-short hop down the flight of stairs. Apple Bloom tried to pace herself, but every movement seemed too quick, and every second seemed too long. It wasn’t butterflies in her stomach so much as a murder of crows pecking at everything they could get their beaks on.
Thoughts rushed into her head. Don’t act stupid. Don’t stumble. Mind your hemline. Keep your balance. Are the earrings just gonna make him hungry? Do you look nice? Do you look too nice? Not nice enough? Why am I even doing this?
She rounded the corner, and Spike came into view. He sat on the couch beside Big Mac, talking about hoofball scores and whatnot. The muscles beneath his scales shifted as he turned at the waist to greet her. He wore a white shirt under a black coat, both sleeveless, which ended somewhere past his midsection. The red bowtie around his neck contrasted nicely with his green eyes.
Whatever he was going to say got lodged firmly in his throat.
Apple Bloom ducked her head down and crossed her forelegs. “Hiyah, Spike.”
“Apple Bloom,” he squeaked. His frilly ears widened as he lifted himself off the couch. “R-ready to go?”
“Uh huh.” Despite the jitters jigging their way across her body, a grin made its gentle way across her face.
Big Mac looked between Apple Bloom and Spike. When neither of them said anything, he coughed into his hoof. “Gee, Spike. I think Apple Bloom looks right pretty, don’t you?”
“A’yup,” Spike said. After a moment’s thought, his eyes widened and he reached his hand towards Apple Bloom. “Um. You’re looking very lovely this evening, Miss Bloom.”
Apple Bloom lifted a hoof and placed it on his palm. “Sure as shootin’. Ain’t you a gentlecolt?”
Applejack looped her forelegs around both of their shoulders. “As adorable as it would be to watch you two trip over each other some more, didn’t you have a movie to catch?”
Apple Bloom gave her older sister a good, long look. She could see wheels turning behind her eyes, undermining the easy smile on her muzzle. She wouldn’t say anything, of course; she’d already said her piece. But she was sure thinking of saying something.
Spike bobbed his head before much more thinking could occur. “We sure do! It’s… a… a pretty long walk, so we should get hopping. And stuff.”
“Have fun, AB,” Big Mac said. With a playfully sinister growl, he turned to Spike. “Stay out of trouble.”
Spike gave him an equally playful salute, and they were out the door.
Apple Bloom set a brisk pace down the dirt path, while Spike lowered himself to all fours to keep up. She kicked up her hooves in a little skip. “So what movie didja pick out? Somethin’ awesome? Somethin’ crazy? Somethin’ funny?”
“Well,” Spike said, eyes front, “I thought about that new sci-fi movie…”
“Buck Dodgers in the Thirty-Fifth Century?” Apple Bloom tilted her head back. “Yeah. That looked kinda fun.”
Spike laughed. “Then I thought, ‘What about that new thriller that just released?’ You know, Mission Improbable?”
Apple Bloom let out a guffaw. “I think Long Cruise only comes up to my knee.”
“See, that’s what I thought, too. I kinda wanted a movie with taller stars.” Spike reached into his pocket and pulled out two tickets; The Power Ponies: Rise of Mechanis. “So I got Button Mash to pull a few strings.”
Apple Bloom had thought it was impossible for her grin to get any wider. She was wrong. “The first show was sold out a month ago! How’d you—?”
“I bought them a month ago.” Spike slid them back into safekeeping. He drummed his fingers across his chest before resuming his strut. “I’ve been thinking about this for a long time. Hoping for it for even longer… Planning it for almost as long…”
“Makin’ sure everythin’ perfect?” Apple Bloom let out a snort and turned her head toward the sky. The sun was low, shining on them from the back. The city was lit in its yellow glow as it neared the horizon. “Ha. Sounds like a really ‘Twilight’ thing to do.”
“What can I say? She’s rubbed off on me.”
“Yah missed one vital little niblit.” Apple Bloom wrinkled her snout. “Or was askin’ me out a day before the tickets expired all part of your grandmaster plan?”
“Shining rubbed off on me, too.” Spike rubbed the back of his neck. “I guess I had to drum up the nerve.”
She raised an eyebrow. “You ain’t afraid to talk to me, are yah?”
“No, no. Believe me, it’s one of my favorite things.” Spike drew his lips back in a wince, showing off his razor-sharp teeth. A trail of magic smoke flitted out from the corner of his mouth. “What does a dragon have to be afraid of?”
Apple Bloom’s face softened. She craned her neck to come down to his level. “You tell me.”
Spike rubbed his chin with a dusty hand. He had the presence of mind to brush the dirt away before they got into town. “I’ll tell you what I’m afraid of: I’m afraid of pressing my nose to the ground, walking in a straight line, and missing everything good about life. Tonight, Apple Bloom—” He brushed her foreleg with his knuckles. “—tonight’s about living life to the fullest and happiest. You and me.”
A spark raced up her leg, down her back, and finished with a shake of her tail. “Heck if that don’t sound like a time an’ a half.”
***
The movie was, as expected, an absolute riot. Apple Bloom walked out of the cinema breathless and laughing. Words poured from her mouth. “Whoa-ho! Now that’s how you do a drag-’em-out, beat-’em-down, blow-’em-up action flick! The way Saddle Rager literally knocked Mechanis’ jaw off! An’—an’ Mistress Marevelous stopped a runaway train only usin’ her lasso! An’—an’—an’ Mechanis was so creepy with his plot to turn everypony into mind-controlled cyborgs! An’ Rainbow Dash was awesome as Zap! I think it’s her best movie yet! An’—an’—What did you think?”
“I enjoyed it,” Spike said with a smile. “Even if I got déjà vu all over the place.”
They walked side-by-side down Mane Street, through a small crowd of the various creatures that made up Ponyville’s recently-invigorated nightlife. There were only a few establishments open past seven. There was the Keen Bean—the local coffee shoppe, dance club, and whatever the hay the zany proprietor wanted it to be. There was the pub which, even if Ponyville was a comparatively squeaky-clean town, had its fair share of rough customers. There were a few late-night street performers, magic acts, and games of luck…
And there was also the Silver Spoon, the fanciest restaurant from Ponyville to Canterlot.
Apple Bloom looked over the green, tall, lush hedges that surrounded the outdoor eating area. She glanced down at her dress—which was absolutely gorgeous if she did say so herself. “You’re kiddin’. You’re kiddin’, right?”
Spike slipped a finger underneath his bowtie. “What do you mean?”
“Scootaloo says the place is cursed. I’m inclined to agree.” Apple Bloom lifted a hoof to point at the hedge. “You an’ Rumble burnt down the hedges two years ago when y’all were stalkin’ Twilight’s date—”
“We weren’t stalking and it wasn’t a date.”
“—an’ you spent a year payin’ the Spoon Family to have them replaced—”
“Good, honest work for an honest mistake.”
“—an’ just last year Scoots got kicked out for havin’ a shoutin’ match with Diamond Tiara—”
“Completely unrelated except for the fact that Rumble was there.”
“—an’ it’s run by one of my childhood bullies.”
“Silver Spoon is a respectable business mare now.” Spike coughed into his fist and supported an unconvincing grin with his cheekbones. “She’s a real nice sort once you get past the miasma of evil that surrounds her.”
“Spike!” an unwelcome—yet not entirely unexpected—voice intruded. “I thought that was your name on the reservation.”
Apple Bloom smirked as fear shivered its way down Spike’s spine. She looked over his shoulder to the silver-maned pony behind him. “Hay, Silver. How’s the restaurant business treatin’ you?”
Apple Bloom was a good two heads taller than Silver Spoon, and the dang pony still managed to look down at her. Silver tilted her head so that the lantern light glinted off the precious metal in her glasses. “Oh, business is blazing, you might say. We’re practically on fire.”
Spike’s face glowed a faint orange.
Silver Spoon leaned on the podium at the entrance, letting the curves of her body gently slope towards the ground. “So, what brings the two of you to the Silver Spoon Restaurant? A business deal? A collaboration? A chance to discuss the application of dragon scales in potions?”
Apple Bloom glanced at Spike, and he at her. He stood up a little straighter and smiled. “We’re on a date.”
Silver Spoon winced. Flinched, really. She covered it up by shifting her slightly seductive pose to more guarded footing. “A date? Romantically? You two?”
Apple Bloom felt her cheeks burn as her ears tilted back. “Yeah. A date. What’s so funny about that? We’ve been hangin’ out for a few months now, an’ it ain’t exactly a secret we like each other.”
“Well, yes, not a secret, but…” Silver Spoon shrugged, closing her eyes and plastering a dazzling smile onto her muzzle. “Alright then. It’s, like, a truly wonderful thing you two are doing. Bucking the trends and standing up for what you feel is right!”
She scooped menus into her grip and waved them inside. “Believe me when I say we at the Silver Spoon Restaurant fully endorse the stance you’re taking. If you’ll just follow me…”
Apple Bloom swiveled her head to take in the sights and sounds. A live quartet played music in the back of the room. Soft, fire-lit lanterns illuminated the awning that traced the hedges. The early-evening stars twinkled overhead. Genteel conversations hummed around them, voices growing lower as they passed by.
Eyes followed them. Apple Bloom hoped to gosh that it was because they looked nice.
Something sparked in her mind. “What sort of stance do you mean?”
“The stance for interspecies relationships?” Silver Spoon lifted an airy eyebrow. “I mean, donkeys have intermarried with ponies for decades. It only seems fair the same respect should be given to other sorts of couples.”
“Oh.” Apple Bloom’s temperature rose, somewhere between her chin and her chest. She could feel the first hints of sweat itching at her back. “I, um, didn’t think it was such a political thing.”
“Everything is political, Apple Bloom.” Silver sat them in a small two-seat table close to the quartet. “Especially relationships. Your server will be by shortly to take your order.” She winked at Spike. “Try not to let things get too heated.”
Apple Bloom was about to take a seat, when Spike pulled her chair out for her. She gave him a small smile and sat wordlessly. Spike sighed as he lowered himself into his chair. “Woof,” he said. “That went better than conversations with her usually go.”
“I dunno.” Apple Bloom traced circles in the skirt of her dress. “It still feels kinda crummy.”
The scales around Spike’s eyes locked tighter together. “Why’s that?”
“I…” Apple Bloom nibbled at her lower lip. She turned an ear towards the musicians and tried to take in their humming strings. “I hate politics, Spike. I hate the whole way it sucks the life outta Applejack. I hate how it makes perfect friends into enemies. I hate how it puts idiots in charge.”
She drew her lips back in a half-grin, half-grimace. “An’ now I can’t even spend the evenin’ with the best darn dragon in Equestria without makin’ a huge political statement. Yippie skippy.”
Spike folded his hands. “It’s not all bad. At least you get dinner out of the deal.”
“Glory be, there’s the silver linin’!” She chuckled and rolled her eyes. “Land-o’-Goatshen, can’t imagine how I missed that!”
He leaned back, a menu pinched between his forefingers. “I’ve been in politics most of my life. Mostly on the peripheral, yeah, but experience is experience. There’s a lot of idiots, there’s a lot of people shouting and flinging mud, but there’s also a lot of genuinely good people.”
Apple Bloom let her eyes fall to the laminated list of vittles. She deliberately ignored the price tags, because if she gave it even a moment’s thought, she was liable to order hot water and ketchup and call it soup. “Like Applejack.”
“Exactly like Applejack.” Spike tapped a clawtip on the table. “And she’s in a position to do a whole lot of good. And she’s been doing a whole lot of good. I know I’m proud of her, not that it’s saying a whole lot.”
“Nah. I’ll be she’d be pert near tickled pink to hear it.” Soup d’Fromage jumped out at her as something she might like if she knew what the heck it was supposed to be. “She doesn’t get to hear it much these days…”
Spike kept her in view for a long moment. He nodded and turned to the menu. “Okay. I’ll let her know.”
Apple Bloom reached across the table to touch the back of his hand. “Thanks.”
Spike smiled wide. He opened his mouth to speak—
“Good evening!” A massive pegasus stallion in an ill-fitting tuxedo landed with a thud. “May I take your order? Any drinks to start?”
Bulk Biceps’ chin filled Apple Bloom’s entire field of vision. “Howdy, Mr. Biceps. A lime soda to start, please.”
“Snowflake, my man!” Spike raised his fist for a congenial hoofbump. “Good to see you.”
“Great to see you two, too!” Bulk’s massive forelegs dominated his tiny pencil and miniscule notepad. “Lime soda for the little lady, and for you?”
“Tomato juice, please.” Spike snuck a peek at her menu. “You ready to order, Apple Bloom?”
“Um.” She bit down on her tongue as the foreign words melded together into some sort of thick goop in her head. “Got a fruit salad?”
“Yeah! Only the best at the Silver Spoon Restaurant! Fruit, nuts, greens, you name it!” He held his pencil up and looked expectantly to Spike.
Spike’s cheeks turned orange, thought not with as much intensity as before. “Apple Bloom, uh…”
She tilted her head.
“Do you mind if I get a steak?” Spike said. “I promise to eat it quickly and stuff.”
“Oh.” Apple Bloom felt a slight churn in the pit of her stomach, but forced it down. “Yeah, sure. Get whatever you want.”
“Archaeopteryx steak and potatoes, well done, with a side of pickles.” Spike handed the menus to Bulk and watched the humongous pegasus flitter off.
Apple Bloom leaned on the table. “What’s steak taste like?”
“Eagh…” Spike glanced upwards, as if searching the stars for an easy answer. “Salty. Chewy. It’s firmer than a peach, softer than an apple. You can try a bite if you want.”
“Nah. Probably not a good idea to try meat when I’m in public.” She waved a hoof down the length of her body. “Not wearin’ this nice a dress.”
“Smart.” Spike narrowed his eyes and bared his teeth in a predatory grin. “It’s important to contain any unfortunate reactions. Heck, what if you actually like the stuff?”
Apple Bloom chuffed. “Wouldn’t be the first time I liked somethin’ weird.”
“That’s awful sweet of you.”
“Wasn’t talkin’ about you.” Apple Bloom covered her mouth with a foreleg. “Necessarily.”
Apple Bloom suspected Spike didn’t have anything to say to that, judging by the way he smiled and turned to listen to the quartet. His tail swayed behind him in time with the melody. Apple Bloom remembered her manners and lowered her knees from the table.
“I gotta ask,” she said. “Why the Silver Spoon?”
“It’s the only place open after eight.” Spike chuckled at his own comment before continuing in a lower voice. “It’s a fancy place where I can treat you to a beautiful night, with live music and gourmet food, where we can actually hear each other across the table.”
His eyebrows danced. “Plus, I get to see you in a gorgeous dress.”
She snickered, running a hoof through her wavy mane. “Just a little selfish, then?”
“Yeah.” He cleared his throat, and a small trail of black smoke rose from the corner of his mouth. “Just a little selfish.”
***
Apple Bloom led him through the orchards under a glistening moon. Leaves shushed beneath their feet, the only sound for a mile. The hem of her dress was built with a farmer’s mindset; high enough above the ground that there was no worry of getting it dirty. She swayed this way and that, letting it float around her cannons.
Spike walked on all fours, picking his way between the apple trees. His eyes flickered to and fro, never settling for long before searching out some other bit of beauty in the orchard. Everything was silver-lit, coated with precious moonlight and waving in the breeze. The landscape was a work of art, with more time and effort put into it than any painting.
“Thank you for the restaurant and the movie,” Apple Bloom whispered, trying not to break the spell. “It was wonderful.”
“It was my pleasure,” Spike hummed back. He hefted himself onto his hind legs and rested a hand on a trunk. “I don’t think I’ve ever been out in the orchard this late. At least, not for a long time.”
“’Bout time you got to see it, then.” Apple Bloom reached out to take his hand. He let her brush against him, but pulled away with a sharp breath. She blew a huff through her lips. “Anyway, now it’s time for me to show you somethin’ wonderful.”
A gap appeared in the evenly-spaced trees, in which sat an old willow. The trailing leaves and drooping branches hung over a small lake nestled into the center of the orchard. The breeze left ripples in the water, which caused the reflected stars and moon to dance merrily. A tire swing hung from a sturdier tree.
Apple Bloom gave the swing a nudge. It creaked back and forth over the water. “Granny Smith always said the orchard was a whole ’nother world at night. When everything else is asleep, the stars wake up an’ start singin’ loud and clear, if’n you listen. She’d come out to the pool, every so often, to see if’n she could touch them. Just once.”
She nestled down on the bank and patted the grass beside her. Spike took a seat and leaned backwards, on his palms. Apple Bloom scrutinized herself in the lake, her face framed by celestial lights. “It’s magical,” she said. “Even if I’ve never heard the stars sing.”
“I have.” Spike placed a hand over his chest. He lay on his back and pointed the other hand at the sky. “Starsong, it’s not something we can hear. Not where we are. It’s something you can feel, right here, right in your heart.”
Apple Bloom rolled onto her back, both so that she could see the sky, and so that her shoulder bumped against Spike’s. “Who’s song do you hear?”
He was quiet for a measured moment. “My mother.”
“Huh?” Apple Bloom lifted her head from the ground. “Ain’t Miss Velvet alive and kickin’—?”
“She’s fine. Mom’s fine.” Spike rubbed his forehead with a single clawtip, easing laughter from his throat. “I mean… I mean the dragon who birthed me. Whoever it was.”
He clenched his hands together, rubbing them for warmth in the late summer night. “I know it sounds silly, but on quiet nights, if I look at the stars and really listen… it feels like I can hear her, humming lullabies in a low voice.”
Two stars in particular winked back from their seat in the heavens. Apple Bloom licked dry lips. “I wish I could hear my parents. Wasn’t even a year old when it happened. Not much time to build a bond that transcends time and space.”
“I didn’t have much time either.” Spike favored her with a sad smile. “Twilight hatched me from an egg.”
“Oh yeah,” Apple Bloom giggled. “I keep forgetting how weird you are.”
“Says the two-point-five-meter-tall mare.”
“Ya know—” Apple Bloom bit her lower lip. “—weirdness is kinda sexy.”
The air beside her warmed up in time with the fiery blood rushing through Spike’s face. The orange light from his scales lit up the clearing like a big, scaly firefly.
Apple Bloom set her head against the grass. Her mane felt like a cushion of clouds bunching up at the sides of her head. “What’s it feel like?”
“What’s what feel like?”
“Starsong.”
“It…” Spike scrunched his muzzle. “It feels like you’re ready to cry. Like all this emotion is welling up inside you, and you don’t know why.”
Words rushed to Apple Bloom’s mouth, but she staved them off. Most of them. “It sounds like love.”
“Maybe.” Spike rested his cheek against the grass, facing her. “Maybe I’m just being silly.”
Thoughts rushed through Apple Bloom’s head, mostly boiling down to Do it! Do it! Do it! “It feels real, though, don’t it?”
Spike’s eyebrows came together. His voice grew stuttering, unsteady. “Y-yes.”
Do it! Do it! Do it! Now! Now! Now! Apple Bloom shut her eyes and leaned in.
She felt Spike’s hand on her foreleg. “Apple Bloom, wait.”
She let out the breath she’d been holding and looked at him. He had that same pained look on his face, like something was digging straight through his chest to stab his heart. She forced her voice to stay calm, even, low. She didn’t quite succeed. “What, Spike? What? What’s wrong?”
“I c-can’t—”
“Spike, you’re not gonna kill me with a kiss.”
“But I could hurt you—”
He trailed off. Apple Bloom sat up and faced the lake. A sting built up behind her eyes. “Ain;t that the darndest? Th—the most romantic evenin’ ever, in the most beautiful orchard in Equestria, a full mile away from anypony, an’… an’ you’re afraid to even touch me.”
Spike hurried to lift himself up. “I have to be careful—”
“You ain’t a tornado!” Apple Bloom’s voice reached a higher pitch before she was able to wrangle it. “You don’t destroy everythin’ you touch. I know you would never do anythin’ to hurt me.” She gave him a frown. When he looked away, she did, too. She dipped her hoof in the water, pushing the stars aside. “Why’re you so afraid?”
“Y-you know,” Spike said. “You were there. The door came right off its hinges—”
“Spike.” Apple Bloom set her jaw. “Spike, you’ve burnt books, and comics, and wreaked who knows how many bits of furniture. You still read books, you still collect comics, and you still sit your dragon hieny down.” She turned with a tired glare. “I know that a door wouldn’t scare yah, so what’s the problem?”
His sparkling, intelligent green eyes looked dead in the moonlight. He stared into the middle-distance, his shoulders drooping and his hands at his sides. “I… can’t tell you…”
She stood up, her hooves moving with a will of their own. She towered over him, partially by accident. “Now ain’t the time for secrets.”
“Now is the perfect time for secrets.” He held his hands out to her. “I did something—I’m going through something very hard, okay? It’s not something I feel comfortable sharing. It’s not something I can put into words. It just means that—” He looked down at his claws with his moonlit, deadened eyes. “I’m so afraid of hurting somebody.”
He lifted his face, and a speck of life returned to his expression. “I’m not ready to talk about it yet. I need you to wait for me.”
Apple Bloom felt a heavy weight on her back. When she took a seat, it settled in the lower half of her chest. “You’re keepin’ secrets from me.”
Spike shut his eyes tight. He clenched his fists. “Yes. Yes I am. I’m sorry, but I need to do this. I need to… to…”
Apple Bloom’s ears lay back. A tear ran down each of her cheeks. “You don’t trust me to understand?”
“I don’t trust myself to tell you. Not the right way.”
Silence returned to the clearing. Apple Bloom stood up to pace, while Spike curled into a purple ball of misery. She shook a few blades of grass from her dress. “Secrets tear people apart, you know.”
“Secrets keep people together, you know.” Spike drew his knees to his chest and clasped his hands over them. “I guess that’s kinda the politics of friendship.”
She kicked a clump of dirt into the drink. “Aw, rut politics!”
Apple Bloom stomped her hoof. Blood boiled in her ears. “If you hadn’t kept your plans a secret, we coulda done tonight a heck of a lot sooner.”
“No, we couldn’t.” Spike stretched his tail out to balance himself. “I wasn’t ready.”
“Well, I sure as heck was.” Apple Bloom flicked her tail. “I sure as heck am. I wanna kiss you, Spike. I wanna lay next to you, an’ cuddle, an’ look at the stars, an’ talk all night long! I wanna be together an’ I want it so that you don’t have to be afraid.”
She flopped to the grass and buried her head beneath her forelegs. She took a deep breath in and blew it out, forcing her aggression out of her body and into the ground. After a few minutes of breathing, her anger lessened, replaced by a hollow ache that felt like it’d lived there for ages.
Spike shuffled up beside her. He sat about a meter away, picking at the grass. “Apple Bloom…”
She lifted her eyes, but not before giving them a good wiping.
“I…” Spike scratched his chest before resting a palm over his heart. “I love you.”
The sting in her eyes scratched at the back of her sinuses. She blinked her eyes shut.
“I love you, Apple Bloom.” Spike pressed his hands into the ground. “And I want to love you in any way I can. I wanna support you when you’re feeling anxious. I wanna help you when you’re struggling. I wanna celebrate when you succeed. I wanna dance when you dance. Sing when you sing. I want an answer for your questions, and questions you can answer. I wanna touch you and not be afraid, because I know you feel it, too.”
He sniffed, clawing through the soil. “But I can’t love you in every way. Not yet. I don’t know if tonight was a good idea, because maybe I’m still not ready. Maybe I’m still afraid. Heck, I know I’m downright terrified. But I wanted tonight, because I thought it would make you happy. I want to make you so happy that you don’t know what to do with yourself. I’m so sorry that I can’t.”
He brushed his palm off and rubbed his face. “I just don’t know how to feel about what I’m doing.”
“Funny,” Apple Bloom said through tiny hiccups. “I don’t know what to do about how I’m feelin’.”
She lifted herself to her haunches. “I should apologize, too. I knew what I was gettin’ into when we started this hogwash. Ain’t right of me to go off on a rant. Ain’t right to cuss at you like that, neither.”
She shook her head. Clumps of grass stuck to her dress and coat, but she ignored them. “I love you, too, Spike, an’ I’m so sorry. I’m tired of seein’ you afraid of me. And I’m tired of secrets.”
Spike gave her a half-grin. “You have secrets, too, you know.”
She snorted. “Like what?”
“Like that potion you were brewing yesterday.” He crossed his arms. “It’s not bug deterrent, is it?”
Apple Bloom’s eyes widened. “H-how do you figure that?”
“You said, and I quote, ‘Not something I’d like to ingest just yet.’” Spike’s ear frills fanned out beside his head. “Kinda implies it’s going to get easier to drink, not harder.”
Apple Bloom felt her face burst into a metaphorical bonfire. “Well, it’s—”
“Apple Bloom,” Spike said, placing a finger on her mouth, “if you don’t wanna tell me, then don’t.”
She pressed her teeth together until it hurt.
“When we’re ready, we’ll share secrets.” He lowered his hand to her hoof and traced a claw across her coat. “That’s how relationships work, right? Gradually building trust?”
She watched his gentle, wispy movements. “I wanna already trust you.”
“But we don’t. Not all the way.” Spike’s claw stopped. “Not yet.”
“Not yet.” She crossed her forelegs and rubbed one along the other. “Why is waitin’ so hard?”
He let out a humorless laugh. “Because waiting sucks.”
Thoughts rushed through her head, but she only let the choicest escape. “I think… tonight… was a good thing. I mean, I had fun, didn’t you?”
Spike shrugged. “It was great. Until about five minutes ago.”
“Well, yeah.” Apple Bloom rubbed the back of her neck. She could feel muscles tie themselves into knots as she spoke. “But we had fun, we spent time together, we learned about each other… not all pleasant-like, but important-like. I don’t think you should feel bad about the date. It was important.”
She lifted her head a little higher and tilted her body at just the right angle. “An’… an’ I wouldn’t mind doin’ it again, except for the part where I got upset. If you’re ready for it.”
Spike gulped hard enough to be heard across the orchard. “I think I’d like that.”
Apple Bloom smiled, bright and genuine. “Thank you.”
She sucked her lips in, looking off to the side. “Y’know, can I tell you a secret?”
He twiddled his thumbs. “If you want.”
“I think I do.” Apple Bloom leaned forward to whisper, inches from his face. “I don’t think it’d hurt if you kissed me a little.”
Spike’s eyes snapped to his hands, but Apple Bloom touched his chin and lifted his face. “We did it once b’fore. Didn’t hurt none then, did it?”
“No.” His hand reached back to grip the tip of his tail. “It didn’t.”
“So why’re you afraid?”
“Because I don’t trust myself.”
She stretched forward, setting one foreleg on the ground and lifting the other at the knee. “Then will you trust me? Just this far?”
Spike lifted his fingers to rest against her foreleg. He looked her straight in the eye with the intense, intelligent, emerald glow she’d seen a million times before and never got tired of. Her heart beat like thunder as they came closer, inch by inch, to meet in the middle.
She was floating on a cloud, dancing on stardust. Lightning flashed through her body and songs burst from her heart. She leaned against him and didn’t know whether to laugh or cry or what.
The kiss ended all too soon. Apple Bloom opened her eyes and swayed as Spike pulled away. He scratched at a dead scale on his forearm, his eyes flickering to every inch of her body.
Apple Bloom chuckled. A few misplaced hairs waved around her head. “Weeeell, shoot. Not a bad little end to the night.”
“Yeah,” Spike said, his voice high and his cheeks blazing with a warm glow. “Pretty great.”
“So.” Apple Bloom rolled a mischievous smirk across her face. “Wanna go steady?”
Spike burst into laughter, even as he nodded.
***
Apple Bloom held a potion up to the light. The gold coloration permeated the entire solution. It was time for a test.
Grinding up the shard of Royal Guard armor hadn’t been easy, but with a heavy-duty grinder from Dinky’s clock shop, she’d been able to make do. From there, it was a matter of mixing a sample of the dust particles with a variety of magic-enhanced plant matter, a spoonful of sugar, and a quart of water to boil away.
She scratched her progress onto a notepad, then sucked in a deep breath. “Tests thus far have said that it’s safe for use with organic bodies. No damage to the skin or coat is expected to occur.”
Spike jotted down the words as she said them. “Check.”
Apple Bloom licked her lips. She blinked beneath her oversized safety goggles. “So… here goes nothin’.”
She poured a few drops over her own foreleg. An old Zebra proverb went “It’s a bad potion maker who’s willing to brew/Potions that they would not try, too.” It was a bit of an honor system Zecora had instilled into her. It sounded nice, at least.
There were probably a million, bajillion scientific rules she was breaking, but that’s why she wasn’t working in a university.
The potion trailed across her skin, stretching itself thin and then solidifying. Before long, her hoof was coated from pad to fetlock in a metal very much like that of guardspony armor. She tapped her foreleg against the table and was rewarded with a metallic clang.
“Application appears successful. Metallic coatin’ has spread itself to the predetermined thickness. Commencin’ with strength tests.”
She drew the hoof back, braced her standing legs, and smashed the hoof against a cinder block. Cracks spider-webbed from the point of impact.
Spike cringed. “That looked like it hurt.”
“It didn’t.” Apple Bloom frowned at the gold. “I didn’t feel a thing.”
Spike winkled his forehead. “Nothing?”
“Not a single thing.” Apple Bloom picked up and handy hammer and gave her hoof a whack. Ding! “Yup. No sensation. Not pain, not anythin’.”
“Well… that’s…” Spike licked the tip of his pen and scribbled. “Interesting.”
“It means this ain’t the solution we’re lookin’ for.” Apple Bloom let the metal-coated hoof thunk against the worktable. “Not to our problem.”
“Yeah, no. I wouldn’t be able to hurt you, but you wouldn’t be able to feel…” Spike waved a hand, almost as if to banish thoughts with physical force. “Anyway, it’s still an awesome concoction. With your permission, I’ll bring the formula to Twilight tomorrow.”
“Sure.” Apple Bloom dipped her hoof into an enchanted dissolving agent. She let out an almighty sigh. “Sounds great.”
Spike tapped his pen against the page. “You have the sound of a person who has not just invented a revolutionary new potion. Does that seem strange to you, or is it just me?”
“No, no, it’s amazin’. I’m just tired.” She glanced at the golden hoof and watched the metal slowly return to dust particles. “Since we’re gonna be here a while, why don’t yah grab us somethin’ tah drink. Fridge’s open.”
“Sure thing, Apple Bloom.” Spike lowered himself to all fours and trundled out the barn door. “Back in a flash!”
Apple Bloom sat alone in her appropriated barn laboratory. The old eaves moaned in their usual way, accompanied by the bubbling of her test tubes and the whir of her machinery. She reached across the table and flipped open her notebook.
The potion sat on the end of the table, the one she’d lied to Spike about. It was ready to use at just about any time, assuming it worked. She’d have to test it on something in order to be sure. Test it on what? That was a different question. It was a potion of her own design, concocted from various bits and pieces she’d been able to pick up from Zecora, miscellaneous textbooks, and Twilight’s rudimentary knowledge.
“Transmogrification,” she muttered. “The process of changin’ the form and makeup of an object into that of another, often with grotesque results.”
She’d tell Spike when she was ready. When he was ready. She didn’t like the thought of changing him so fundamentally, but what choice did she have? Was it her choice to make?
Did Spike even want to become a pony?
She closed the book and set it aside. Thoughts for another day. For now, it was about her and Spike, sitting together inside her workshop and talking about science-y things. He was really cute when he talked science.
There was hope for the future, whenever that was.
“I think something’s wrong with Applejack,” Spike said as he returned. He suspended two glasses in his hands, both filled with an amber-brown liquid. “She just left cider lying around where anybody could come and take it.”
Apple Bloom clicked her tongue. “Th’ mayor’s gettin’ forgetful in her old age.”
Spike set one glass beside her and eased himself onto an overturned barrel. He lifted his glass, and she mirrored him. “To interspecies love.”
“I’m gonna bop you right in the nose one of these days.” She gave him the best evil eye she was capable of faking. “If’n you don’t watch out.”
His smiled widened. “I’ll hold you to that. A different toast, then. What shall we commend, Lady Apple Bloom?”
She slipped a quick glance at the notebook and the potion. She lifted her glass high. “To buildin’ trust.”
Seriousness descended upon Spike’s demeanor. With a steady eye, he tapped his glass against hers. “To building trust.”
They settled beside each other, shoulder-to-shoulder, hip-to-hip, and drank to their budding relationship. Apple Bloom nestled in, feeling Spike’s fire through his scales.
“You’re the most beautiful pony I know,” he said
She didn’t always believe that, but she was betting Spike did. “I love you, too, Spike.”
Author's Note
If Apple Bloom and Applejack sound a little more "Tennessee" than usual, you can blame my grandmother, whose speaking style is so distinct and catchy that I can't help but use the occasional "hogworsh" in my daily speech.
Speaking of accents, this may be the thickest I've ever written the Apple Family's. Which is ironic, because I've used the most pristine spelling possible while still removing a few final letters.
So... relationships are hard. I feel that's a theme for this piece (that and "Apple Bloom is lovesick"). There're plenty of trials, doubts, and fears. There's always somebody willing to say exactly what you're doing wrong. There're always a million ways to end it, drop it, forget it ever happened.
Lots of people are willing to tell you what you should do if it's a failure. Not a whole lot of people like to say what to do if it feels like a good thing. What's a body to do as they stumble through life, seeking happiness?
I guess you wing it and hope for the best.
Here's hoping that you enjoyed the story! Until next we meet!
I swear, that cover art looked better in my head...
