Spike led Applejack back to the nicer part of town and she told him about the baby, the Dazzlings and Miss Harshwhinny.

“Say no more,” he told her. “Babies, harsh women, sirens... Well, that’s what happens when you tie yourself down.”

“You don’t have a family?” she asked.

“One for every day of the week. But none of them have me,”

She didn’t understand.

“Come on. I’ll show you what I mean,” He pointed to a large building. “Now, take Twilight Sparkle at the Library here. Little Spike, that’s me, makes this his Monday home.”

“Monday home?”

“Oh, yeah. Mondays are my day to help Twilight shelve books,”

He then led her to a large, cylindrical-shaped building with decorative pillars that bore a striking resemblance to a merry-go-round, complete with pony sculptures lining the lower and upper exterior.

“Now, Carousel Boutique here is where Spikey-Wikey, me again, comes every Tuesday to model Miss Rarity’s line of men’s suits,”

As they walked, Applejack noticed that Spike seemed to be known and welcomed everywhere they went.

“You see, AJ, when you’re footloose and fancy-free, you take nothing but the best,” he said. “Now, let’s see about getting you a dress.”

“A dress?” she asked.

“Well, you can’t walk around town looking like that,” he said, motioning to her torn and dirty clothes. “Come on.”

Spike could tell that she was hesitant. Applejack had never been inside a dress shop before, but she’d had a terrible day and he wanted to cheer her up. And Applejack didn’t know what Spike had in mind or what to expect, but she trusted him, and so she followed him.

He opened the door to the Carousel Boutique and stood off to the side.

“Ladies first,” he said.

The room they stepped into was large, lined with mirrors and mannequins, and on those mannequins—were the most incredible clothes Applejack had ever seen. Never in her wildest dreams had AJ imagined that clothes came in such a variety of shapes, sizes and colors. And even though all of them were nice, they just didn’t seem to be for her—until the shop’s owner came down from upstairs.

She was a lovely young woman with wavy hair and long eyelashes. She was wearing a white blouse with a formal collar that was open three buttons (prim and sexy, at the same time) a purple skirt with matching boots, and a pair of tiny sewing glasses that rested on the tip of her nose.

If anyone was meant to make others look and/or feel fabulous, it was her.

“Hi, Rarity,” Spike said.

Rarity was surprised.

“Spikey-Wikey!” she replied, wrapping her arms around him in a warm hug. “What brings you by?”

“I was hoping you could give me a hand—or should I say a dress?”

He stepped aside and motioned to Applejack.

Rarity shrieked.

“Darling! What happened to you?”

“Long story short,” Spike interjected. “I got into another fight, defending her from some hoods.”

“Say no more,” Rarity said as she walked up to Applejack and looked her over. “Hmm. Let’s see,” She pulled out her measuring tape and took Applejack’s measurements. “Height: five-foot-eleven and seven-sixteenth inches, bust: 39, waist: 28, and hips: 38... Oh, this should be no problem. A few cuts here and there and I’ll have her looking like a princess! Maybe a jeweled neckline...”

“Nothing too girly,” Applejack said.

“Well, it’s your dress,” Rarity replied as Applejack stepped onto the small display stage. “Now, hold still.”

Spike pulled up a chair and took a seat, and Applejack stood as still as she could while Rarity fit a pattern on her, and AJ told the seamstress her tale of woe.

“And I don’t know what to do next,” she said when she had finished.

“Well, you can’t go home,” Spike said. “At least not right now.”

“He’s right, darling,” Rarity agreed. “You go back now and you’ll be sliding into more trouble. Stay away for a few hours, let them worry!” she said almost dramatically. “Just give Miss Harshwhinny a chance to cool down.”

While she had been talking, Rarity walked over to one of the shelves and selected a roll of white lace fabric. She unrolled the textile and laid it flat. Then she placed the pattern on top and followed the trace lines, her sharp scissors cutting furiously through the fabric.

After she’d finished cutting, she threaded her needle and started sewing.

She began with the sides of the dress, turning the fabric inside-out and folding it a quarter inch over on either side, and using the iron to flatten it out. Then, using a zigzag stitch, she began to sew the front and the back together, and a top stitch to attach the newly formed seam to the body.

Then she started sewing the neckline. She folded over another quarter inch of fabric along the edge and ironed it flat. Then, using a straight stitch along the collar, she sewed the edges into place (this was to keep them from fraying).

As Rarity hemmed and sewed, she debated with herself on how deep the neckline should plunge. Then she added the hem on the bottom of the dress, folding over another quarter inch of fabric and ironing it, and used a straight stitch to attach the folded edge to the bottom of the dress, holding it in place.

Once he was certain that Rarity was all but completely occupied with her work, Spike turned to Applejack and whispered, “Have dinner with me.”

Applejack was stunned by this. Already this guy had protected her from a gang of thugs, gone out of his way to get her a new outfit, and now he was asking her on a date.

Applejack had never known anyone so masterful aside from her Pa.

“I’ll treat you to dinner and I’ll show you the town,”

She smiled and nodded.

Rarity knew her job well. And with one final snip, the dress was done.

Spike glanced at Rarity, then said, “Well, I’ll leave you ladies to it.”

He stepped behind a screen room divider and removed his jacket and shirt. He hesitated a second and then slipped off his jeans.

Rarity returned to Applejack and, after seeing Spike duck behind the screen, helped Applejack disrobe and pulled the dress over her head.

“There!” Rarity said.

Applejack turned and looked at her reflection in the mirror. She almost didn’t recognize herself. It was like she was looking at a whole other person.

The dress hugged her body perfectly from shoulders to hips.

“Oh!” Applejack cried. “It’s beautiful! Oh, thank you!” she said, hugging the seamstress in gratitude. “I don’t know how I can ever repay you!”

“Think nothing of it, darling,” Rarity replied with a gracious curtsey. “It was my pleasure.”

Spike raked his fingers through his hair, checked the result in the mirror, and deemed it acceptable. Finally, he emerged from behind the screen.

He was dressed in a new white collared shirt, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, a double-breasted mulberry vest, black slacks, a tie, and leather shoes. The same outfit Applejack had first seen him in, only much nicer.

He turned to look at Applejack, and his eyes went wide and his jaw dropped.

She was dressed in a simple white sundress and her brown boots. She wasn’t wearing her hat, and her long golden hair was not tied. Instead, it fell freely over her shoulders, to just below her breasts, in a gentle curl.

She looked stunning. Breathtaking.

He stared at her for several long seconds before he shook himself out of his trance.

“Thank you, Rarity,” he and Applejack both said. They looked at each other and shared a laugh before adding, “How much do I owe you?”

“Keep it,” Rarity said. “It’s all yours.”

“I can? Really?” Applejack asked. “Thank you.”

Rarity nodded and Applejack hugged her again.

“Shall we go?” Spike asked.

Applejack nodded and she walked with Spike out of the store.

Author's Note

Yes, I realize the process of making a whole dress from scratch is much longer than this, but sometimes we have to speed things along. Otherwise, the story just sits around!