Friend of Generosity

by PaulAsaran

Rating: everyone
Tags: My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Spike, Romance, Scootaloo, Slice of Life
Length: 5005

Spike never saw it coming. Rarity's scheming has landed him in an unexpected date with a very anxious filly, and he's not sure what to think of it. But then Scootaloo asks him a question... and he decides to set the record straight.

Rarity asking Spike for a favor is nothing new. What is new is that favor being a ruse to get him on a date with a certain filly. But Spike knows better than to resist, and maybe a night with Scootaloo won't be so bad.

When Scootaloo asks Spike to clarify things, however, he decides to be honest. While trying to define what Rarity means to him, perhaps he'll find out what this date means to the both of them.

The Generosity Series
Chronological from Top to Bottom:
Lessons in Generosity
Study of Generosity
Friend of Generosity
Allure of Generosity
Heir of Generosity?
Triangle of Generosity

Cover art by FuyusFox.

Published 2017-11-20 22:20:08 UTC
Last updated 2017-11-20 22:20:08 UTC

A Scholar and A Gentledrake

You all know that feeling, right? The one where you realize you’ve just walked into a trap set up by your best friend and should’ve seen it coming from miles off?

That was me about ten seconds after I entered Rarity’s boutique one evening to help her with a favor. I didn’t expect to find Scootaloo already there, wearing this dress that was just… Well, perhaps I should describe it. I know Rarity, and this dress had been designed with her taste of avant guard flair combined with Coco Pommel’s style. Scootaloo even had an undersized derby on her head, tilted at an angle and undoubtedly held up by a hidden headband beneath her mane, which I understand is popular in Neighppon. Typical Rarity, making things ‘fresh’ by mixing them up a bit.

The front had the design of an over-frock coat, dark green with a dual column of buttons and a collar low enough to let a white undershirt be visible, along with a tie that matched Scoots’ mane and tail. The orangish-yellow skirt was stiff pleats, just fitting enough to show off the shape of her figure but with a hoof-cut. Y’know, the small cut made in the front of the skirt that makes it much easier for the hind legs to move? Yeah, most ponies don’t notice it, especially if it’s done right. Like Rarity would ever get it wrong.

Why are you looking at me like that? It’s not weird! I learned a lot about fashion hanging with Rarity these last six years, that’s all. It’s not half as dumb as ponies make it out to be. Point is, it was an awesome dress that suited Scootaloo perfectly.

Too perfectly.

I couldn’t stop looking. The thoughts going through my head were crazy confusing. I mean, Scootaloo is my friend, right? And it’s okay to think of a friend as cute. That happens all the time. I always thought Rarity was beautiful, and I can acknowledge that my friends all have some level of attractiveness to them. So it most certainly wasn’t weird that I might look at Scootaloo like that, because that’s all it was! A simple acknowledgement that she looked cute in that dress.

It wasn’t weird.

By the time I realized I was staring, it was too late. Rarity had us in her clutches. We were doomed to go along with whatever she had planned, because when she decides something is going to happen it is going to happen. Within a minute or two she’d stuffed me into this satin suit with a notched lapel and a cummerbund and—

Okay, okay, too much fashion speak, I get it. Sorry. When you grow up in Canterlot, have a terminology-obsessed egghead for a sister, and spend half your time with a fashionista you just start picking up habits.

Anyway, we kinda just stood outside the boutique for a bit, trying to get over our mutual shock. Rarity had shoved some gems and bits into my coat pocket and a reservation receipt into my claws. I examined the latter in hopes of making sense of what had happened. The fact she’d gotten us a reservation at Haysar’s Cloudisseum ruined my efforts at speech.

“Um…”

I looked to Scootaloo, who was rubbing her leg and looking at something in the distance. Her entire face was hot pink. Still stuck in a stupor, I could only nod and mumble something resembling “Yuh?”

“D-did you know she was gonna do this?”

It abruptly dawned upon me exactly what I’d gotten wrangled into. I shot a quick glance at the boutique just in time to see the curtains shift in one of the nearby windows. I wasn’t sure whether to be upset, amused, or grateful. But I did know that I was going on a date – because what else could it be? – with Scootaloo. Rarity told me enough about how dates are supposed to go, and I wasn’t about to disappoint.

I hoped.

“I had no idea,” I declared with confidence, because it was true. I offered my arm, just like Rarity had taught me before the Gala five years ago. “But hey, I’m not gonna say no.” I knew Scootaloo well enough. She wouldn’t be all that into ‘big romantic gestures’, so I tried playing it casual. “What do you say we play along and enjoy a free meal? Haysar’s is the best restaurant in town, after all.”

Scootaloo stared at my arm, then at me. I’m not sure she understood what my gesture meant. The heat in her cheeks hadn’t faded one bit. She started raising her hoof to take my arm, but stopped herself and slammed it back to the ground. I don’t think she wanted me to see it shaking. “C-can we just, er, go? I don’t think walking on three legs all the way over there will be very comfortable.” Her eyes opened wide. “I mean, not that I d-don’t wanna walk leg in, uh, arm. With you. Or anything.”

Wow, she was nervous? I could relate. Lowering my arm, I nodded and gestured, trying to be as polite as I could be. “Sounds good. Don’t worry. It’s just dinner, right?”

“Just dinner.” She seemed to think on this for a moment, then stuck out her chest and squared her shoulders. “Right. Just dinner. Let’s go.”

And so we went. It wasn’t far away – a perk to Rarity living on the wealthier side of Ponyville, I suppose. Well, I say ‘perk’, but about halfway there I was in full panic mode. My thoughts were attacking me on multiple fronts and I didn’t know what to do. Rarity told me that the first date was critical in a relationship, that it could make or break the whole thing. It was the moment when a stallion – drake, whatever – had to show the mare his worth as a potential suitor. But I’ve known Scootaloo for six years. She already knew all my traits, including my flaws. Was I supposed to somehow make her forget that I even had flaws? Fat chance of that.

Worse, Rarity talked like the date needed to be all special and romantic! Except this was Scootaloo. She’s not into girly things, or touching moments or exploring her feelings or any of that girly stuff! How was I supposed to have a perfect date if the number one rule of the first date doesn’t apply? And if I did something wrong and got Scoots angry at me? She’s got Rainbow Dash as her big sister. Surrogate or not, that’s the last pony I want hounding me for being a dummy. Except perhaps Applejack.

All of this uncertainty stood on a foundation of ‘why am I so eager for this date to be perfect?’ Did that mean something? Was it just me trying to make a good impression because I was on a date at all, or was it because of who I was on the date with? I didn’t have any answers, and that scared me more than anything. I could just see my inner Twilight running around a library in my skull in search of the one book that would explain everything.

We got to the restaurant far too soon for me to collect my thoughts and form a plan. I took solace in the fact that Scootaloo seemed just as nervous as I felt, and she let out a small moan when we saw the line stretching around the corner. “I don’t know, Spike,” she mumbled, wings drooping. “We could be out here all night, and I do have to be home at a certain time.”

My anxiety fled in an instant, because now we were in my game. With a smirk, I raised my arm to her again. “Come on, help me look the part for a moment.” Her blush came back in full force, but she slipped her foreleg through the crook of my elbow. I was mildly surprised at how tight her hold was. No time to think on that, though; I led her forward with a whisper to let me do the talking.

The maître d loomed over his podium and stared down his muzzle at us with a level of disdain worthy of Prince Blueblood. “I apologize, sir and miss, but the line starts around the—”

Shoulders back. Stand straight. Speak with firmness and meet his eyes. “Spike the Dragon, Esquire. Steward of Princess Twilight Sparkle and Special Assistant of Lady Rarity, Element of Generosity.” He blinked at me, eyes narrowed as he visibly struggled to parse my words. I waited until he was about to speak again, then bowled him over while thrusting our reservation ticket in his face. “The Lady has kindly arranged a table for my fillyfriend and me. If you would be equally kind and show us to our seats, it would be appreciated.”

He snapped like a twig. Two minutes later we were seated at a private table on a balcony overlooking the ritzy district. Candle and flowers, muffled classical music wafting out from the dining room and a pleasant view. Frankly, I think they went a little overboard with the ‘romantic’ part, but hey, we got in.

“Wow.” Scootaloo pressed her hooves to the table and gave me a grin. “Spike, that was cool! Where’d you learn to talk to stuffy ponies like that?”

Nothing wrong with stroking an ego every once in a while, right? Chin up, I smirked towards the balcony doors. “I grew up in Canterlot and lived on the grounds of Canterlot Palace. The place is practically a breeding ground for snobs. I learned how to handle them a lot better than Twilight did, at least before she became a princess.” I tapped my claws on the table.

She got the message, swiftly pulling her hooves from the marble and sitting back in her seat. As she did, her ears drooped and her eyes darted to the door. “Spike, I-I don’t have a clue how to behave in this place. What am I supposed to do?”

“You want my advice? Don’t worry about it.” I sat back, slumping a little in my seat as I grinned. “These ponies are all high on their elitism, but they can’t do anything if you don’t follow their rules. It’s not like they can refuse us service. Unless we do something ridiculous, that is.”

“I-I won’t do anything ridiculous, promise!”

Wow, she really was nervous. I could only wonder why. I watched her as she fidgeted with the buttons on her dress. She couldn’t meet my eyes, and it seemed her cheeks would never stop blushing. But y’know, I didn’t mind too much. She was still super cute in that dress, and…

And we were supposed to be on a date. Once I remembered that, I felt my own apprehension come creeping back in like a timberwolf on the prowl. Suddenly, everything Rarity had ever taught me about dating wiggled its way out of my head through the ear and ran away, laughing maniacally at my loss. How lucky that the waitress showed up just then to take our drink orders. She yammered on for a few minutes about the specials, giving me some time to try and clear my head. Which was easy, since it was already full of air. I couldn’t stop glancing at Scootaloo and the way she seemed to be trying to hide behind a mane too short for the job.

I waited until the waitress took my gems and was gone to ask the question that had been burning in the back of my mind for a while. “Hey, uh, Scoots?” She glanced at me, but it was a flighty thing. Pegasi can have such bird-like motions, especially when they’re nervous. “Do you know why Rarity did this?”

Her head whipped towards me, her eyes going big. “No.” The word came so quick I almost missed it, and she was looking away again. Her wings were half-open while she stared out at the half-empty streets below.

“Oh…” Yeah, I’m not so dumb as to miss it. She definitely knew, but how was I to get her to fess up? Unless she’d promised not to tell. I folded my claws on the table and thought on the subject, trying to grasp what Rarity might have been thinking. I might have also stared at Scootaloo while she wasn’t looking. I know I’ve said it enough already, but I can’t say it enough: she looked good in that dress. And now that her wings were starting to grow out… yeah. I never appreciated how nice a pegasus’s wings could look until then. Clearly, Rainbow’s preening lessons were doing some good.

“Spike?”

I jerked upright, but she didn’t seem to have noticed me staring. Breathing a sigh of relief, I started to respond. Then I noticed how she was rubbing her hooves together and staring at the floor. If this was meant to be a romantic dinner, it certainly wasn’t working. I felt like an idiot; Rarity always said I should be devoting all my attention to my date. Technically I had been, but not in the way that matters! I was blowing this big time!

Wait, if I was blowing it, did that mean I wanted—

Her sigh pulled me out of my near-panic and back down to Equestria. Twiddling my claws, I finally answered. “What is it, Scootaloo? Is something wrong?”

“No, not really. I just…” She bit her lip and glanced my way, but didn’t make eye contact. “W-what do you see in Rarity?”

“Rarity?” I scratched my head. “Why?”

She shrank a little at the question. “Humor me?”

It was clear that this was important to her, though I couldn’t fathom why. I also knew that a straightforward answer wouldn’t satisfy. At least, I didn’t think so. It sounded to me like she wanted to know something deeper. Scootaloo had become something of a student of Rarity’s lately; another mystery, that.

I became aware of something just then. Six years I’ve been hanging around Rarity. That’s a long time to get to know somepony. And my relationship with her… “I think this is gonna take a little bit.”

Scootaloo eyed me as if expecting me to say something dumb, like how Twilight gets ready to pounce when she knows I’m about to make a fool out of myself. Nonetheless, she turned to me and wriggled into what I guess was meant to be a more comfortable position. “We’ve got time. Lay it on me.”

She asked for it, I guess. I fiddled with the silverware, pondering the day I met Rarity. “It’s a weird thing. Ember told me once that, despite living thousands of years longer than ponies do, dragons physically mature much more quickly. I was eight when we first came to Ponyville, but from a maturity perspective I was more like thirteen. Mentally speaking, I should be almost twenty, even though I’m really just fourteen.

“And all of this is just to point out that when I first laid eyes on Rarity, I was kinda going through dragon puberty.” I glanced up, half expecting this talk to turn Scootaloo off. Instead she watched me closely, her lips set in a thin line and her eyes thoughtful.

That was way better than I’d feared, so I pressed on. “Rarity was my first crush. Heck, I didn’t even know what a crush was at the time. So… yeah, I did some silly stuff and followed after her tail like a puppy on a leash.” I couldn’t help but chuckle at that mental image, seeing as of how I had experience being a dog. “Rarity just… let it be. To a certain degree, I could even say she took advantage of the situation.”

For the first time that night, Scootaloo smiled. But it was a weak one, full of knowing and maybe a touch of pain. “But she got better, right?”

I shook my head. “We got better.” I leaned back and looked up at the sky. “I’m trying to think of when it happened. I wanna say it was a few months before that Ponyville Days festival where Trenderhoof showed up. Oh, wait!” I snapped my claws as the memory clicked into place. “It was when Discord decided to be a jerk and gave both her and Applejack the Blue Flu.”

“I think I remember that,” Scootaloo confessed, her face scrunching up as she thought. I was starting to like the way she did that. “You spent a whole week taking care of Rarity, right?”

I nodded, the scene coming back as if it had happened yesterday, despite having been some three years ago. “Despite all my past experiences, that was by far the most amount of time I spent with Rarity at a stretch. I actually lived at the boutique in the interim. On the third or fourth day, Rarity asked me to sit by her so we could talk.”

I closed my eyes and remembered her lying in bed, completely blue and looking miserable. And yet, somehow, she still managed to smile for me. “We had a conversation. About us. About what we were. Seeing me work so hard to make her comfortable and as happy as possible, it had gotten her to feeling guilty about how she used to treat me. And… how she had let me keep the silly idea in my head for so long. Basically, she told me it was time to move on.”

“Oh.” Scootaloo looked down at the table, tapping her silverware quietly. She looked like she wanted to say something else, but that was when our food came out. We had to wait patiently for the waitress to make sure we had everything we needed. She flashed me a wink before she left. I remember feeling a little lost after that, because this was supposed to be a date and wasn’t turning out very romantic at all. I wondered if Scootaloo was disappointed.

As soon as the waitress was out of sight, Scootaloo spoke. “I guess you were pretty bummed when Rarity rejected you, huh?”

I went to work cutting up my gem pasta – I’d have to thank Rarity later for supplying the gems. “Believe it or not, I wasn’t all that hurt. I expected to feel like I’d been kicked in the gut or something, but I ended up taking it in stride.”

“No way.” She squinted at me from over her rosemary and onion gougère platter. “You, Mr. Biggest Rarity Fan in the World?”

I giggled at her scrutiny. It’s weird, but the combination of her suspecting frown with that little hat only made her that much cuter. “I know, I know.” I waved her words off with a fork. “But it’s true. Rarity thought I’d be miserable. She told me to go home to Twilight, but I refused, and she couldn’t really force me in her condition. But I did a lot of thinking that night.”

Here I paused, my gaze falling upon a familiar ceiling. “I stayed in Sweetie’s bed that week. She went to their parents’ ‘cause she didn’t want to get sick too. That night I never fell asleep. I was too busy. Thinking. Remembering. Trying to understand why I wasn’t mad at Rarity, why I felt nothing but happiness. Eventually, I realized something important.”

My focus returned to Scootaloo, who now stared at me with wide, curious eyes. I decided I liked those eyes. “I realized that I was no longer crushing. For some time, I’d not been hanging around Rarity to earn her favor. I was hanging around because… because she’s my friend.”

I’m not ashamed to admit that my eyes started to burn with tears at the memory. Memories.

“I look up to her. Like I look up to Twilight, but different too. Twilight’s a sister. Rarity is a…” I tapped my claws on the table, struggling to find the right word. “Role model? That’s not right, either. I can’t put a name on it, but she’s been the single greatest influence of my life. I am a better dragon for having known her.”

Leaning against the table, I pointed absently at the dining room. “She’s the one who taught me how to handle ponies like that maître d. Yes, I grew up in Canterlot, but Twilight’s not very good at the whole ‘mingling among the elites’ thing. I knew the lingo, the style, the mannerisms, but Rarity gave me the confidence. She always supported me, pushed me, showed me how it’s done. I watched her stand up for herself, and by her example I learned how to do the same.

“After I came back from the dragon migration, Rarity was there to help me feel like I belonged in Ponyville. Just because I knew I preferred life as a pony didn’t mean I felt I belonged as one. But Rarity worked with Twilight to make sure I did in time. Who better to make a dragon comfortable in his own scales than a fashionista, eh?”

Scootaloo smiled. “Yeah, I can see that.”

It would be nice to say I kept going, but… Scootaloo smiled. When combined with that dress and the little derby, it was distractingly nice. My thoughts got kinda jumbled up and I forgot what I’d just been talking about. Was this even the same pony?

Her smile faded. “Spike?”

“Huh?” I shook myself out of the trance and questions about potential changelings. “S-sorry! Uh… where was I?” I attacked my food, hoping the motion would disguise the heat in my cheeks. What in Celestia’s name was she doing to me?

Oh, wait. I knew. I’d felt it before, hadn’t I?

“You were explaining how awesome Rarity is.”

Mouth full of pasta and crunchy gems, I stared at Scootaloo. It was like opening my eyes for the first time in ever, and again, I wasn’t unfamiliar with the sensation. It took me a moment to realize she was giggling.

At my cocked head, she smirked and rubbed a hoof along the corner of her lip. I reached up and felt a couple strings of pasta stuck against my scales. I sucked them in with a smile of my own and promptly wiped the sauce off with a napkin. It proved a nice distraction for letting me get my thoughts back in order.

“Rarity’s awesome, alright,” I said once the napkin was properly put away. “She taught me lots of things. For example—” I pointed at her “—I know that you’re not wearing so much as a dab of makeup.”

Her eyes snapped open wide and she tapped her cheeks. A weak whimper left her throat.

“It’s also plainly clear that you haven’t brushed your mane in ages.”

Her ears folded back as she brushed away an unkempt lock.

“Your posture is nothing at all appropriate for an elegant restaurant.”

Her head snapped down to examine herself, but it was clear by the fear in her eyes that she had no idea what to do about it.

“I’m not even going to start on your table manners.”

Her eyes darted about at the jumbled silverware, crumpled napkin and glass not sitting on its saucer.

“And I can tell you every little detail about that dress, from the kind of fabric it is to the style of tie you’ve got on.”

Her legs came up so she could eyeball her dress, as if she expected to find something wrong with it.

I set my elbows on the table – Rarity and Twilight both would have given me a lecture – and placed my cheeks in my palms. With a smile, I said, “Rarity did everything just right. She knew all your charm comes from you being as natural as you can be.”

Her gaze jumped to me. She blinked in a pretty stellar Gummy impersonation before the blush hit her cheeks all over again. “R-really? You don’t think I’m…” Hunched shoulders. Loss of eye contact. “Plain?”

I raised a finger in the air to recite something Rarity had hammered into my head a long time ago. “No mare is plain. She just needs a chance to show off her best side.”

Scootaloo’s eyes narrowed. “That sounds recited.”

I choked; getting called out was the last thing I expected. “M-maybe it is, but that doesn’t make it any less true!”

Snorting, she glared down at her food. “Yeah, sure. You don’t have to lie to me or anything.”

“It’s not a lie! You’re…” I paused, the words catching in my throat. Taking a drink of my soda – we weren’t exactly old enough for alcohol yet – I cleared my throat and tried again. The words almost got caught a second time. “You’re r-really pretty.” Now it was my turn to dodge her eyes. I used my fork to stir my pasta around, feeling small and a little lost. “You should really thank Rarity. The tomcolt look suits you well. She knew exactly how to show off your natural looks.”

Her lips curled into a half-frown. “So you’re saying without the dress you’d have never noticed me?”

“The dress helps,” I admitted, even knowing it was probably the wrong thing to say. “It’s more…” With a sigh, I dropped my fork and looked at her properly. “We’ve been friends for years, Scootaloo. We practically grew up together. So you tell me, at what point did you get interested in me?”

“I never said—!” She clamped her teeth closed with an audible click, eyes widening yet again. A moment of silence, her wings standing erect as she stared at me. She swallowed and took a long, slow breath. Her answer came out in a squeak. “N-not long. Ago. Not long ago.” She glanced away, the fire returning to her face one more. Mine wasn’t any better. At this rate, our heads might spontaneously combust. Certainly not the most romantic way to go.

“S-so,” I pressed, loosening my tie and hoping to Luna my on-the-spot plan wouldn’t backfire, “You like me now. Why didn’t you before?”

“I…” She fidgeted, ate a gougère. I guess she had to buy herself some time to think. Upon swallowing, she finally answered with a quiet “I guess I just didn’t notice it before.”

I sat up straight, a grin jumping onto my face. “Yes, that’s it! Exactly! We’re friends. We’ve always been friends. And friends never notice what is right there in front of them. All Rarity did was make sure I noticed.”

A cock of the head. Her face scrunched up in thought – yeah, that definitely made her cuter. I couldn’t stop smiling.

“Okay,” she conceded with a little smile of her own. “I guess that makes sense. I mean, if you hadn’t started growing those muscles…” Once again, her teeth slammed closed and her eyes bulged. “I m-mean, um…”

“Oh, these?” I raised an arm to poke at the muscle under the jacket sleeve. With the soft part of my claw, that is, I wasn’t about to rip a hole in Rarity’s gift. “Yeah, they’re pretty awesome. Who knew part of a dragon’s gem diet is for generating muscle naturally?” I paused, then raised an eyeridge at her. “Wait, you mean you think my muscles are what make me attractive?”

Scootaloo was staring at the tablecloth again, a gougère stuffed in her mouth. She merely nodded, not daring to look up.

I remember thinking, wow, we’re all shallow creatures, aren’t we? Me a dress and her some muscle. As I watched Scootaloo eat and avoid eye contact, I thought about Rarity and how she’d set this entire meal up for us. It was a classic move. I wonder just how much she had expected to come of it. She is a bit of a hopeless romantic, but there’s lots of practical knowledge in that head of hers too.

And if she taught me anything, it was “Stepping stones and patience.”

Ears perking, Scootaloo looked up. “Huh?”

I tried to offer a warm smile. “Rarity taught me of stepping stones and patience. You don’t become an international buisnessmare overnight.”

“Uh… okay.” She raised an eyebrow. “What does that have to do with anything?”

“Everything,” I answered happily. “It means I’m not willing to base an entire relationship on dresses and muscles. I took that shallow path with my first crush, and it didn’t go anywhere. Take it here and we might end up with a disaster.”

“Oh.” She sank back as if trying to hide under the table. “Th-then I guess—”

“You wanna dance?”

“Huh?” I think I might have broken something in her head, because her ears started twitching in random directions and her mouth opened and closed a few times before she managed to sputter out another “Huh?”

“Dance.” I climbed off my seat and went around to her side, offering a claw and what I hoped was a comforting expression.

She eyed the claw as if not sure why it was there. “But I thought you didn’t want to… to…”

“What I want,” I said as I took her half-committed hoof, “is for us to have fun and get to know one another better. We’re not going to have a real relationship based on dresses and muscles. Come on…” I reached up to brush her mane back and meet her eyes properly. They were prettier than I remembered. “Let’s build a real relationship. Do it right. I want to make sure we’re still friends, regardless of how it turns out.”

Scootaloo stared at me for several seconds, her purple eyes digging deep into my own.

And then she smiled. She let me pull her away from the table. She reared up, a little clumsy on her hind legs, but I knew all the steps. The dance wasn’t perfect, but the music was nice, the candles were lit, and most importantly?

We had fun.

Together.