All of Ponyville stretched out before Rarity: tranquil, picturesque, and no bigger than her hoof. Her shop and town hall seemed to stand mere inches apart, and the fairgrounds beyond Sweet Apple Acres, where the spring carnival was being set up, could be taken for a foal’s toy collection. The view from this hillside was truly magnificent, and made all the better by its being completely real; she’d had her fill of dragon-massage-given hallucinations, but certainly not of the dragon himself.
“This spot is simply wonderful, Spikey! How did you find it?”
She looked back, her gaze traveling up the steep hill to the thick hedge bordering the road. Spike’s foot pushed through the hedge, followed by an arm, followed by a shoulder. At last he emerged, save for his arm that remained trapped in the branches. He leaned away from the hedge, pushing and pulling with all his might. Finally the hedge released him as well as the picnic basket he’d been holding. He tumbled through the air until her magic caught him, upside down but still firmly attached to the basket he’d wrestled free from the bushes.
He grinned a sheepish grin. “Heheh, thanks.”
She smiled and raised an eyebrow. “And how did you happen upon this wonderful picnic spot? I can’t imagine it ever being empty if word were to get around.”
His gaze went back to the hedge. “It was kind of an accident. Big Mac and I were taking a wagonload of stuff to the dump, I fell off, and… I didn’t exactly have somepony to catch me that time.”
She lowered him to the ground, setting him on the opposite side of their blanket and the picnic basket between them. “Well I’m certainly glad I was here to assist you this time, especially since you’ve been so kind as to invite me to a picnic.”
“It’s the least I could do after you made us brunch yesterday—” his cheeks turned red and a smile crossed his face “—and dinner.”
“Come now, I simply had to repay you for spending the entire day washing my shop windows and replanting the flowers trampled by your… former admirers.”
Spike rummaged in the picnic basket and pulled out a pair of sandwiches wrapped in cloth. “You mean the massage zombies?”
“Whatever you to call them, at least the frightful ordeal ended well… not to mention leading to three lovely meals and counting.”
A quick bat of her eyes was all it took to make him blush.
He looked toward the expansive view in an effort to hide his rosy cheeks. “So… um… the carnival is opening tomorrow.”
“Yes?”
“A-and I was wondering… if… if you don’t have any other plans…”
Rarity leaned forward with an expectant smile. Now came the real test, the chance to see if Spike was indeed ready to make something of all his blushing and sideways glances, something more adventurous and romantic than a casual picnic lunch between close friends. “Yes?”
A wagon wheel squeaked loudly on the nearby road, and a mare’s nasal voice carried through the air. “—got about ten more wagonloads of trash left.”
A second mare groaned. “Yeesh, dumb carnival! It’s gonna be even worse tearing it down next week.”
Spike slapped his forehead. “I should’ve known this spot was too good to be true!”
Rarity reclined on the blanket, her smile intact. “They’ll be gone in a moment, Spikey, and then you can continue whatever it was that you were going to say. Perhaps you were going to ask me something?”
The two mare’s conversation continued, as did the squeak of the wagon’s wheels as they pulled it along the road. “Look on the bright side: we’re getting some sweet overtime pay. There’s this one dress at Rarity’s that I’ve had my eye on for months. Soon as I’m done hauling carnival trash, that baby is mine!”
“Pfft, Rarity’s? Her stuff used to be kinda cute, but now it's totally last year. And that pony’s mane… ugh… it’s more product than hair. Gross.”
Rarity let out a gasp. “Why… how could she… she… the nerve!”
Spike held a claw up to his mouth. “Sssh, they’ll hear us!”
She tossed her mane and glared through the hedge. “Hmpf. A certain somepony will never ever be getting a ‘close friend discount’ again.”
The sound of the squeaking wagon and the conversation of the mares pulling it finally faded. Silence returned, but Rarity’s smile didn’t. Her glare devolved into a frown, and she gave her mane a few gentle strokes. “I’ll have to you know my hair curls naturally, Spikey. Adding little product to accentuate a wholly natural feature is hardly a crime.”
Spike nodded vigorously. “A-and I love it! I've always loved what you do with your hair!”
“Thank you.”
He reached into the picnic basket and pulled out a cupcake. “How about we start with dessert instead, or have some lemonade?”
Rarity sighed. “I suppose something to drink would be nice. We shouldn’t let one tasteless, small-minded mare ruin our entire afternoon, after all.”
He pulled out a canteen and nodded. “Ri—”
Another passing conversation filtered through the bushes, this one between a mare and a stallion.
“—and I heard they spent yesterday in her shop all by themselves, and they’re out having a picnic today. There's no way they’re not seeing each other.” the stallion said.
The mare sighed. “Figures. Kind of sad, too. I mean, one of them could be doing so much better.”
Spike’s canteen-holding arm shivered, nearly spilling the lemonade he was pouring.
Rarity leaned forward and touched his cheek. “Pay them no mind, Spikey. Remember, what they say doesn’t—“
“I wish I could breathe fire.” the stallion muttered.
“You and every guy in town, honey!” the mare replied, “The way Spike can just shoot out those flames… ooh, I’m getting weak in the knees just thinking about it!”
“How’d Rarity ever snag him, anyway? I mean, everypony knows that ‘saving herself for a prince line’ is code for knowing she didn’t have much going for her… then all of the sudden she’s got the only dragon in town. Which is good news for me, right? Say, I heard the carnival is opening tomorrow—”
“Keep on dreaming, honey.”
Most of the lemonade wound up on the blanket. The small amount that landed in Spike’s cup was gone in one swig. “I… I’m…”
Rarity jaw couldn’t have dropped any further without becoming unhinged. “Don’t… have much… going for me?”
Spike shook his head. “They’re crazy! The whole town’s crazy! You’re the most beautiful, graceful, talented—”
She flopped backward on the blanket. “So says the most eligible bachelor in town, apparently! The dragon that could have any mare he wants, apparently! Why he invited a homely pony like me to a picnic we may never know!”
“I… um… do you really think that part about me was true? N-not that I don’t think you’re the most beautiful and graceful and talented!”
She held a foreleg over her eyes. “I don’t suppose you have six gallons of vanilla oat swirl ice cream in that basket, Spikey, because I’m not sure anything else could possibly salvage this moment.”
Spike cupped her hoof in his hands. “There’s nopony else I’d rather be here with, Rarity! Remember what you said about how we shouldn’t let anypony else ruin our picnic?”
“Yes, but… I-I simply don’t know if I even want to eat… or breathe, for that matter.”
He tightened his embrace. “I’ll run down to the store and get you that ice cream right now if you want, or I’ll pack up all this stuff and carry you home, or I’ll… breathe fire for you, since apparently that’s super-attractive.”
In her opinion, the gentle press of his soft hands on her skin held far more allure than fire, so much so that she couldn’t hold back a small smile. “I suppose we can carry on with our picnic in a spot with less hoof traffic… although I will miss the splendid view.”
Spike gazed out at the panorama and cleared his throat. “So… um… would you like to go to the carnival tomorrow?”
Rarity bit her lip. Romance of the moment aside, at least he’d finally asked her. “That’s… a splendid idea, Sp—”
This time it was Pinkie Pie, her voice bubbling with confidence. “Just a month left until Rarity’s birthday! I’m gonna wiiiiin.”
“No way,” Rainbow Dash replied, “it’s totally gonna happen on Hearts and Hooves day next week. That’s when Spike and Rarity are gonna make it official, and that’s when I’m sweeping the betting pool and taking home all the bi—”
Rarity exploded through the hedge and pinned Rainbow to the ground. “Don’t you dare say another word about me or Spike! We’ve already sat through more than enough… troubling comments from random ponies. I draw the line at our friends placing bets on when or if we—” her face reddened “—and what we do in private is hardly any of your concern to begin with!”
“H-hi, Rarity!” Rainbow stammered. “We were… uh… just talking about you.”
Spike jumped through the new, pony-shaped hole in the hedge. “Were you two really betting on—”
Pinkie landed in front of him, face up on the ground. “Ooh, ooh, you’ve gotta pin me first!”
He gingerly placed one foot on her belly. “Uh… is that better?”
Pinkie’s eyes went wide and she stuck out her tongue in pretend distress. “Okay, okay, I’ll talk! I’ve got twenty bits on Rarity’s birthday!”
Rainbow jumped back into the sky, sending Rarity flying. “And I’ve got twenty on Hearts and Hooves Day. That’s the perfect day to officially start dating, right Spike?”
With a great sigh, Rarity sat on the roadside and shut her eyes. “Are all of our friends in on this terrible game? Has Fluttershy selected Hearth’s Warming? What about Applejack?”
“Uuum.” Pinkie put on an uneasy grin. “It’s… kinda bigger than that.”
Spike stepped away from her. “Bigger?”
Pinkie nodded. “Like, whole town bigger.”
“That many ponies care about if we… when we…”
Rarity started to sniffle. “Am I doomed to never show my face on the streets of Ponyville again?”
“Not just Ponyville,” Pinkie replied, “We got some write-in bets from as far away as Manehattan, too!”
Rarity burst into tears.
Rainbow patted her on the back. “What’s the big deal? We all see how you two are around each other. So what if we put a few bits on when you go all head-over-hooves?”
Spike held up his claws to count. “But that’s gotta be way more than a few if most of the town’s in on it, plus some other ponies… Do you know how many comics I could buy?”
“That isn’t helpful!” Rarity shouted, “I want this madness to stop this instant!”
“So kiss already,” Rainbow said with a shrug, “unless you wanna wait until Hearts and Hooves day just to make it extra special… and to get me some super-rare Daring Do collector’s plates.”
Spike folded his arms and looked away. “M-maybe we will and not tell anybody! Maybe we’ll just keep it secret forever!”
Pinkie scooted in next to him. “Aww, come on. Don’t you wanna smooch that pretty Rarity face in front of everypony? Snuggly kissy times make everything better; it’s like super-good candy that doesn't ever give you a tummy ache!”
“Sure I want that, b-but not like this… not when some random pony gets to cash in because of it.”
Rarity’s crying stopped as abruptly as it started. “If that’s what it takes to put a stop to this, then so be it! Rainbow, I’d like you to place an anonymous bet for me: tomorrow at noon, atop the carnival’s stage. As the clock strikes the hour, our relationship will become unmistakably public.”
Spike gasped. “Y-you mean…we’ll… we’ll—”
“And after that I’ll personally go door to door, returning bits and telling each and every betting pony just how petty and terrible they are for putting us in such a position… dispensing our affections on demand, just to satisfy their infantile gossip-mongering…”
Rainbow sighed. “Fine, I’ll place your bet. Heh, at least this’ll clear up a whole bunch of other rumors.”
Spike threw up his arms. “Oh, come on! What’s so special about breathing fire?”
“Huh? Fire’s not really my thing, Spike, sorry. I’m talking about Rarity.”
Rarity cringed. “Nothing could possibly be worse than what I've heard already… can it?”
Rainbow reclined in midair, a wide grin on her face. “Like how you’re actually with Big Mac… or Prince Blueblood… or Big Mac and Prince Blueblood?”
Pinkie bounced up and down. “Don’t forget about the Pony Tones!”
Spike went pale.
Rarity screamed.
The fairground’s bare earth undid Rarity’s hooficure long before she even found Spike. Locating him would have been much easier if she hadn’t felt the need to keep checking her pocket watch, both to verify that it wasn’t twelve yet, and to surreptitiously check her eyeliner in the watch’s polished crystal. Perhaps the gown she’d chosen was a bit much, what with it being designed for the elegance of an opulent ballroom as opposed to the dusty, sweaty mess of an outdoor carnival. Her plan for cheering herself up with fabulous clothing was having the opposite effect; the noonday heat and fairground dust were seeping right through her happy, self-confident façade. As soon as this deplorable betting business was over, she’d lock herself in her shop for the rest of the month. Her friends could visit her, so long as they brought conciliatory ice cream, and perhaps some groceries.
Spike’s gasp gave away his position in the crowd: leaning against a fence by the ticket booth. His mouth hung open while Rarity trotted over. “Ye… You… Dress…”
Rarity gave her apparel a quick glance for signs of dust or worse. Her entire ensemble, from the gold lacing around the hem to the white trim encircling her neck, sparkled in the sunlight. “Do you like it, Spike? It’s from my upcoming spring line, a little something dazzling to disprove that… that… notion that I’m without talent or—”
“You’re gorgeous!” Spike blurted.
A smile broke through her downcast gaze, but only for a moment. “That’s… nice of you to say. Let’s get in position behind the stage curtains; we only have ten minutes until noon.”
“Y-yeah, yeah. Yeah! After that’s over, we've got the whole afternoon at the carnival!”
“Spike, this is no time for fun! I fully intend to go home after the bet is settled and wait for Pinkie and Rainbow to deliver our… winnings, which I’ve told them in no uncertain terms must include a list of every pony that dared placed a bet on our personal affairs.”
He slumped forward. “Aww, but we’re already here, together even! I guess I didn’t ask you to come very romantically, but—”
“Romance has absolutely nothing to do with it. This isn’t about you and I, this is about everypony else taking far too much of an interest in the activities of… you and I.”
“What? But… but I-I even got my claws manicured!”
Rarity’s eyebrows rose as she noted the sun glinting off his polished hands. “Very impressive, and quite suave, Spikey!”
Spike rubbed his polished his claws on his chest and regarded them with a smile. “Thanks. I figured I should start making more of an effort, since I’m Ponyville’s number one bachelor… for another ten minutes anyway.”
“Ugh, please don’t let that notion go to your head! If I was interested in arrogance, I really would be courting a certain ‘prince’ that isn’t worth dignifying with a name.”
“Sorry! It’s just been kind of fun thinking about it… I figured that’s how you feel all the time.”
Rarity frowned through a small blush. “I’ll have you know I never ever considered myself the most beautiful pony in town, but certainly one of the… but let’s not dwell on such things. The sooner this betting affair is behind us, the better.”
Spike kicked his foot against the ground, stirring up dust. “Some date this turned out to be.”
“There will be other chances, Spikey.”
“Really?”
She winked at him. “Our picnic yesterday did start out fabulously, I believe.”
“Then how about we… I mean… If it’s okay with you, we could…” His blush took over, and he looked away.
Sweetie Belle’s joyful, high-pitched scream pierced eardrums for miles around.
Rarity cringed; she could feel the sound in her molars. She spotted her sister through a gap in the crowd, standing a mere five paces away at the foot of what looked like a metal merry-go-round perched at a forty five degree angle. Ponies young and old were stumbling their way off of the contraption, some of them looking quite ill, but none so much as the green-faced Scootaloo staggering towards Sweetie Belle and Apple Bloom. “Good heavens, Scootaloo. Are you all right?”
Apple Bloom rushed forward and offered her friend a supportive hoof. “I can’t believe ya’ survived ten rounds on the tilt-a-whril without hurlin’, Scoots!”
Scootaloo’s eyes rolled from side to side, as if they were still on the ride. “Yeah… I… I gotta lie down.”
Sweetie Belle bounced up and down, not unlike Pinkie Pie. “I told you she could do it! You owe me five double-oat milkshakes, Apple Bloom!”
“Hey, we bet three milkshakes!”
Scootaloo shut her eyes tight. “Please… don’t mention food.”
Rarity produced a handkerchief and dabbed Scootaloo’s forehead. “Sweetie Belle, please tell me you’re not actually placing bets! That insufferable habit has no rightful place in the mind of a lady, or any pony at all!”
“Aww, Rarity. Why do you have to be big a stick in the mud? It’s just some milkshakes between friends. Half the time, Pinkie gives us cupcakes to go with them for free.”
Scootaloo grimaced. “N-not food!”
Spike backed away. “Uh… Sweetie Belle?”
Sweetie Belle didn’t seem to notice. “Plus, it’s not like Scootaloo isn’t used to doing this stuff. Yesterday, she and Rainbow Dash did twenty loop-the-loops in a row! I got sick just watching them spin around and around and a—”
Nature took its swift, splattering course. Rarity screamed and all-but leaped into Spike’s arms as Scootaloo retched her semi-digested breakfast and lunch all over the ground, her friends, and the spot where Rarity had just been standing.
A wave of groans and revulsion swept through the crowd, which quickly moved away from the pegasus-turned-firehose.
Rarity backed away as fast as her ensemble would let her. “Not on the dress! Not on the dress!”
Spike held on his arms in front of her, turning himself into an undersized shield that thankfully proved unnecessary. Within seconds they were far away from ground zero, and completely unscathed.
“Well then!” Rarity huffed, “I believe that's more than enough near-disaster for one day. Come, Spikey.”
He glanced back at the tilt-a-whirl before hurrying after her. “Maybe you're right about just going home. I'd hate for something to happen to your dress, especially right before we—”
“This is a statement, not a show of affection, or a show at all for that matter.”
“Aww, but… can't we just—”
She turned on him. “I want what we have to mean something, Spike, and the surest way to ruin that in my mind is to tarnish our first anything with this getting-back-at-Ponyville business. When the clock strikes the hour, I intend to make a withering statement to the crowd, take you by the arm, and make a fashionable exit.”
Spike gave a long, deep sigh. “I guess you're right. Let's just go and… what is that?”
She followed his gaze toward their path, and to the bright red line tracing its way across the dirt toward them. Was it some sort of magic?
The red line stopped just as a shadow appeared overhead. Spike gasped and pushed Rarity to the side. “Ditzy, watch out!”
Rarity looked up just as Ditzy paused mid-flight, a carrot-dog on one forehoof and a mis-aimed bottle of ketchup on the other.
Ditzy stared down at them and quickly focused on Rarity’s dress. “Wow, that dress is amazing! I-I didn't drip on you, did I?”
Spike held up two claws an inch apart. “This close, Ditzy! This close!”
“Gosh, I’m sorry… You two aren't heading to the stage, are you?”
Rarity lowered her eyebrows. “Why do you ask?”
“There's this really big mud puddle right next to it, from the dunking booth. Be extra-careful, okay?”
Rarity’s glare dissolved into a smile. “Why, thank you for the warning, darling. It's such a relief to know there are ponies out there with noble intentions.”
“No problem! So when's that dress going on sale? I might be inheriting some money at twelve fifteen today.”
Rarity's glare surged back, and her attempted response came out as a series of growls.
Spike grimaced and stepped away from her. “Uh… twelve fifteen? What’s so special about twelve fifteen?”
“That's when my great grandpa’s will is being read. Weird timing, huh? I barely had time to grab lunch.”
Rarity coughed repeatedly and fanned herself. “Oh… I-I’m sorry for your loss, dear. Do come by the shop soon, won't you? I'll fit any gown of your choosing at a generous discount.”
“Oh wow, thanks Rarity!” Ditzy threw her hooves in the air, her carrot dog and ketchup bottle temporarily forgotten.
Rarity screamed and backed away, while Spike simply held up his hands. “I’ve got it! I’ve got it!”
The carrot dog fell into his hands, perfectly intact. The plastic bottle wasn't as lucky. Ketchup splattered everywhere as the bottle struck his forehead and burst open.
Ditzy gasped. “I'm so sorry, Spike! Want me to get you a towel or something?”
Spike groaned and held up the carrot dog. “I think you dropped this.”
She swooped down and gingerly took back her lunch. “Thanks. I-I’d better get going. Sorry again!”
Rarity ran back, stopping at the edge of the ketchup blast radius. “Spikey-Wikey, speak to me!”
“I’m okay… I just need a shower… or Twilight and a couple baskets of hay fries.”
“Indeed, but in light of our having only minutes to spare, we’ll have to make do with this.”
She lifted him out of the ketchup puddle and went to work with her handkerchief, followed by her spare handkerchief.
“It’s okay, I can just lick it all—”
“For the sake of my own stomach, don’t finish that sentence.”
Cleaning off the ketchup went by quickly, what with her mind being preoccupied with how she’d acted just a moment ago. She could’ve easily caught the ketchup bottle herself, had she been focused on something other than preserving her own cleanliness. Worse still was what she’d been prepared to scream at kindhearted Ditzy, based on the mere assumption of her placing a bet. Had her opinion of her fellow ponies really sunk that low, that they were somehow worth less than her apparel? Her dress felt more sweaty and uncomfortable than ever.
Spike, now ketchup-free, resumed walking towards the stage, and Rarity followed. “Okay… we can do this. We’ll get up on the stage, and then we can get out of here before anything else messy happens.”
Rarity stared at her hooves. “Spikey… thank you for giving Ditzy the benefit of the doubt when I couldn’t. I’m becoming far too harsh.”
“Ditzy is almost as nice as Fluttershy. There’s no way she’d do something that she knew was going to hurt somepony.”
“And I doubt she’s alone in that sentiment. Surely most of the townsponies didn’t mean us harm when they placed their bets.”
“Does that mean we don’t have to chew them all out?”
“Certainly not as strongly as I originally planned. Perhaps we can simply let them know that their actions were hurtful, and leave it at that.”
Spike wiped his forehead. “That’s a relief. I know you don’t want to stay at the carnival, but… what if we did something else instead?”
She raised an eyebrow. “Oh? What did you have in mind?”
“Well… I-I was kind of wondering if—”
Applejack across their path, trailing a rope that quickly went taut. “C’mon, ya’ pesky pig!”
Rarity followed the rope from Applejack’s clenched teeth to a sizable pig trying and failing to reach the mud by the stage. “Excuse us for not helping, Applejack. We’re in a bit of a hurry.”
Applejack waved them off. “Sure thing. Just gotta get my prize-winning pig to the livestock competition, mud free. Nice dress, Rares. You mistake this place for a fancy dress ball or somethin’?”
Rarity made a small curtsey. “I’m merely dressing how any confident fashionista would, given the chance. Shall we, Spikey?”
Spike pointed at the sun overhead. “We’d better hurry; it’s almost noon!”
Rarity trotted her way around Applejack with Spike following behind her. The bet would be settled soon enough, and all without the blistering speech she’d intended to give. A simple “Spike and I are an item” would suffice. Leaving would be the best part of all; he’d wrap his soft, manicured hand around her foreleg, and they’d make an exit worthy of bridleway.
“Got ya’ now, Betsy!” Applejack shouted.
Rarity turned back just in time to see Applejack take five quick steps backward, two more steps than Spike had left her room for.
Spike gasped moments before Applejack’s back leg landed on his chest. “AJ, watch ou—oof!”
Disaster, as always, happened in slow motion: Applejack fell backwards over Spike, tangling his foot in the rope just before she lost her grip on it.
Rarity lunged forward and wrapped her hooves around Spike. “No! No more near-disasters! We’re getting on that stage, and we’re doing it n—”
Betsy the pig said otherwise.
All Rarity could do was hold on. No force of hoof or magic held them in place now. For a moment, with her eyes shut, she could almost picture that stunning view of Ponyville from their picnic, back when she’d thought so much better of its inhabitants, back when her only worry was Spike asking her out on a proper date.
The sounds of shouting and rushing air vanished with a loud, wet splat. She didn’t need to open her eyes to know where they were, especially not with a contented pig rolling around in the muck a few inches away.
Applejack thundered her way to the edge of the mud pit. “Aww, Betsy! Look what you’ve gone and done to Rarity and Spike… Ugh. C’mon, ya’ll, let’s get you out of there…”
Rarity didn’t need help, nor did she want it. One mud-covered step at a time, she stomped past friends and onlookers alike, climbed the backstage steps, and disappeared through a door. Alone at last, she fell to the floor and wept. She’d been crying already, but now there wasn’t any point in trying to keep the tears in. Her ensemble finally matched her feelings.
Spike stumbled through the door a minute later. “Rarity, wait! I’ve got a towel!”
“For what? Just look at me!” She gestured to the mud-soaked remains of her dress and her disheveled mane. “I’m a disaster, Spike! I’m everything those awful rumors make me out to be: ugly, pathetic, prissy… What’s the point of going on with anything at all when I look and feel exactly how the worst of ponies see me?”
She stared at him, as if to dare him to find a suitable answer.
He stood there, squeezing the towel between his claws. “Because… because…”
“There’s no more to say, Spike. Just leave me be… Let Ponyville have its precious bet. Let some unscrupulous pony make a small fortune off of us someday… unless of course some genuinely pretty mare catches your eye before then…”
Spike stood up straight, threw down the towel, and marched over to her with a directness and determination that made him into a giant. Before she could object, or even ask what he was doing, his arms were around her, and she was leaning back in an embrace that surpassed every notion of romance she’d ever had. “You’re always beautiful to me, Rarity.”
For one perfect moment, just as their lips met, it didn’t matter that she was covered in mud and on the cusp of losing the bet. Ponyville and the rest of Equestria were far away, and her troubles temporarily forgotten. What did the opinions of a few ponies around town amount to, in the grand scheme? They were no more qualified to assess her beauty and worth than Spike or anypony else, only she herself could do that, and in this moment she felt as radiant and glorious as the sun itself.
She needn't shine alone, of course, and who better to stand alongside her than the dragon who’d literally swept her off her hooves?
Daylight flooded the stage amid Rainbow’s laughter. “I keep telling you it’s gonna be Hearts and Hooves day. There’s no way Rarity would come up here and plant one on Sp—aah!”
Dreamy coos and defeated groans filled the air. Nearly the entire town was present, watching them share the best first kiss in history, as far as Rarity was concerned. The ponies in the front row had plenty to say.
“What’s your secret, Rarity?”
“Save it for the honeymoon, you two!”
“Don’t say that! Keep your options open, Spike!”
“What the hay is she wearing?”
“I dunno, but if brings in the dragons I'm totally buying five of ‘em!”
Pinkie trotted up to Rainbow and patted her head. “Look on the bright side, now we finally get to eat that ‘It’s About Time’ cake I’ve been saving in the freezer!”
Spike stared out at the crowd, frozen. His previous romantic air had given way to shell-shocked disbelief and a ketchup-rivaling blush. “Uh… um…”
Rarity returned to her hooves, which weren’t as steady as they’d been a minute ago. Her previous worries were far from gone: her ensemble was a disaster and her reputation might as well be, but this time she didn’t care. She could hold onto that moment of serenity, especially if a certain dragon was capable of a repeat performance. She ignored the crowd and faced Rainbow instead, smiling. “Well, it appears that we’ve won a certain—”
Rainbow groaned. “Yeah, yeah. I’ll get you your bits… and your hit list.”
“I’ll simply take the bits, thank you. I believe Spikey and I have other plans this evening that require them, don’t we?”
“Uh… yeah…” Spike said. Shock aside, some measure of his earlier resoluteness still shone in his eyes. “We’re… going to the nicest restaurant there is… in Canterlot!”
Rainbow rolled her eyes. “Seriously, Spike? With this many bits, you could have a nice dinner on a tropical cruise!”
Rarity’s eyes lit up, and she spoke loudly enough for the crowd to hear. “That’s a splendid idea! A tropical cruise, the perfect honeymoon retreat! Come, Spike, we simply must discuss our secret engagement in greater detail!”
Now Ponyville really had something to gossip and wonder about, this time on her terms.
Rainbow gasped. “Did you just say you’re—”
“We’ll be sure to send you a postcard, Rainbow.” Without another word or even a glance to the gawking crowd, Rarity trotted toward the backstage door with a shocked Spike in tow. Pinkie gave them a wink as she pulled the curtains closed again, returning the stage to its far more romantic near-darkness.
“Wha… wait. Wait.” Spike murmured.
Rarity smiled at him and batted her eyelashes. Now came the real test. “Hmm? Is something the matter, my Spikey-Wikey?”
Spike hid his hands behind his back and blushed. “Well, n—I mean yes. Yes! Going on a honeymoon cruise sounds amazing but… we’ve been on one and half dates, tops… and we’ve only kissed the one time. Couldn’t we just start with dinner in Canterlot, and maybe see a play?”
She leaned in and pecked him on the cheek. “I couldn’t agree more.”
“Really? But… you said—“
“What were you thinking, during our kiss?”
“I-I… um… I… I wasn’t?” he offered a weak smile.
She giggled. “I realized something important, meanwhile: I shouldn’t answer the pettiness of a few ponies with pettiness of my own… and if there are going to be rumors about the two of us, shouldn’t we be the ones starting them?”
He leaned in puckered up, but she stepped away with another giggle. “Shouldn’t we save that for our next proper date? Hmm?”
“Oh… yeah. So, uh… Would… Would you like to go to dinner and a play tonight, in Canterlot? I-I don’t have tickets or anything yet, but—”
Rarity pulled him into a hug. “I thought you’d never ask.”
