A Little Serendipity

"So he still won't talk about it?"

"No!" whined Belle. "I don't get it. I mean, sure, we were drunk. Really drunk. Super drunk. Like, 'holy shit, why does the world keep spinning' drunk. Like, you try to get up and you fall on your ass-"

"I get it, you were drunk!" shouted Applebloom.

"Right. But still, it was awesome," sighed Belle, staring off into the distance, "I've never been kissed like that."

"Not even by Pip?" inquired Applebloom. "I heard he could do some pretty incredible stuff."

"Oh he could," said Belle, temporarily losing her focus. "But that's not what I meant. It wasn't like a good kiss in the physical sense. I don't even think there was tongue involved."

"No tongue?" gasped Applebloom. "Blasphemy!"

"No, really. Zero tongue contact. No, it was just... good. It just felt like it was right, somehow. My whole body felt it. It was crazy. It was sort of like..."

"Cumming?" asked Applebloom. Belle squeaked, but nodded her head. "No shit! Wow, talk about a good kiss."

"I know, right? But he just won't talk about it. He just comes into work, says hi, does his job, and then leaves. And whenever I try to steer the conversation towards it, he just changes the subject!" cried Belle. She leaned back into her beanbag chair, her hair brushing the floor. Applebloom sat on the couch, idly picking at some loose stuffing. They were waiting for Scootaloo to get back with some snacks. "I hate boys."

"Well guess what? I'm not a boy," Applebloom wiggled her eyebrows. Belle chuckled, and shook her head.

"You're never gonna give up, are you?"

"Nope. I'll see you naked yet!" said Applebloom, throwing out a devious grin. Belle rolled her eyes. The front door opened, and the two girls turned expectantly. It wasn't Scootaloo - a different girl walked in. She was tall, and had long, curly, bubblegum pink hair and she wore a red belly shirt and knee length shorts.

"Hey Pinkie," said Belle, giving her a wave.

"Hey Belle, hey Applebloom," greeted Pinkie. "I'm just here to pick up Octavia and Scratch. We're all going out to that new club."

"Can I go with you?" asked an eager Applebloom.

"First of all, you're not old enough to drink," said Pinkie, wagging her finger and adopting a completely fake lecturing voice. Applebloom pouted. "Secondly, your sister would kill me if she knew I was taking you out to clubs."

"Ugh, she's such a freaking butt!" the copper-haired teenager threw her hands up in frustration.

"She is a little bit of a downer," agreed the bubbly woman. She looked at Belle, and a worried frown crossed her features, "You okay Belle?"

"Boy trouble," explained Applebloom, to spare Belle the awkwardness.

"Oh! Well, I haven't dated boys in a while - well, ever, really - but maybe I can help." Belle thought about it, a moment of doubt in the face of Pinkie's talkative personality, but decided to go ahead and spill the beans. After she explained the situation, Pinkie began pacing back and forth.

"Hmm... he won't talk to you at all, huh?" She tapped her finger against her chin. After a few seconds, her face lit up, "You know what, I know a guy just like that! Dash's fiance! Man, those two loved each other for years before either one said anything. Silly situation. Someone should write a story about it. But anyway, it took a while, but he came around. With some guys, you just have to let them come to you. You can't pressure them, or you could scare them away."

"But I don't want to wait," protested Belle. "I really like him."

"It's tough," said Pinkie, "but you have to soldier through it. Trust me - if it's fate, it'll come through in the end. Just like Dashie and her future hubby."

"What was his name again?" Bloom interjected.

"Oh, it's-"

"Pinkie, is that you?" Octavia's cultured accent called down.

"Yeah, it's me! I'm ready to go when you are!" Pinkie shouted back. The two older girls thundered down the stairs. "So, are you excited Scratch? You're finally going to be the head DJ!"

"It's cool," answered Vinyl, blowing her blue bangs out of her eyes, but she didn't comment further.

"Nice seeing you guys again!" Pinkie smiled brightly at the two girls. They exchanged goodbyes, and as the three left, Scootaloo finally arrived. She carried two bags full of various fatty foods.

"Who wants to gain fifty pounds?" asked Scootaloo, raising the bags into the air.

"Me!" said Applebloom, her hand shooting up into the air.

"I guess," sighed Belle, slumping again now that the bubbly smile of Pinkie had left.

"She still upset?" asked Scootaloo, and Applebloom nodded sadly. Scootaloo set the stuff down on a nearby table and sat next to Belle, pulled her close, and began to stroke her hair.

"He'll come around babe. I promise." Scootaloo smiled down at her, and winked. "Who could possibly resist your charm?"

~

"Hey Spike! How are-"

"Fine. I got a lot to do- we'll talk later." Spike brushed right by her and retreated into the back of the boutique. She sighed, and walked up to the front desk. For a while she toyed with a dress her sister had sent her to mend, but gave up after she pricked her finger a couple of times. She just couldn't keep her mind on anything.

This isn't how it was supposed to go! Her mind wailed, the thoughts sounded despairing even to herself. He was supposed to sweep her off her feet - be everything she ever wanted, and more. Instead, he just avoided her like the plague. She thought back to that day - had she done anything wrong? Had she said anything that might have offended him? No. No, she had not. She was certain of it. She'd been walking on eggshells, being careful of every little word, every little action. She had done everything she was supposed to do! He was just being an ass.

Belle threw down her needle and thread, and then put down the dress with considerably less venom. This was not how she handled things. She was not Sweetie Belle. She was Belle. Proud. Strong. Sister to Rarity, the fiercest seamstress in all the land. She knew better then to take a bunch of crap from some man. No, not even a man. Some boy who was too much of a baby to just talk to her and tell her what was wrong. This would not stand.

Belle stomped through the store, looking for her employee. She was tempted to shout out for him, but she wanted to catch him by surprise. She wanted to demand an answer to why he was being such a jerk. Force him to confront her, tell him face to face to end this silliness once and for all. She finally made her way to the back of the store, into the storage area where he was busy moving some heavy boxes. She rubbed her hands together. Finally, she had him. Just as she was about to make her presence known, her cell phone rang. She gasped, and Spike whirled around, nearly dropping a box onto his head. Belle cursed under her breath, and ran from the room. She pulled out her phone, and flipped it open.

"What!?" she shouted into the receiver.

"Belle?" a soft voice answered.

"Rarity?" she gave a little gasp. "Is it you?"

"It is!" Rarity squealed. Belle gave a little hoot of joy, and did an impromptu dance.

"I haven't heard from you in so long!" Belle said.

"I know," sighed Rarity. "I deeply regret that - it's just that I have so much going on. You know how it is - Sapphire Shores needs a new dress for the Gala Awards, and I can't just leave her hanging. But I should call you more often, regardless."

"You should," admonished Belle. "I hate not hearing from you every day."

"I know, I know!" Rarity faux-sobbed, "I am a horrible sister." Belle sighed, rolling her eyes. She hated when her sister got melodramatic.

"No you aren't," said Belle. "You're a great sister."

"Why thank you," said Rarity, she always cheered up when someone complemented her. "Now, onto business - I hear we have a new hire at the store?"

"Hmm? Oh, right, Spike," said Sweetie Belle, a note of irritation creeping into her voice as she said his name.

"Right, Twilight's friend. Oh, he used to be so cute when he was a kid. He had a crush on me, it was adorable," the giggle over the phone only brought a frown to Belle, "But I digress. How is he working out? Not making any trouble, I hope? I heard some disquieting rumors about him making trouble when he was in school."

"He's been fine, Rarity," Belle said. She had to hold her tongue to keep from finishing, 'other than the fact that he gave me the most passionate kiss of my entire life and has refused to talk to me since!'

"Good. I'd hate to have to tell Twilight that her little Spikey-Wikey isn't working out," said Rarity.

"Spikey... Wikey?"

"Oh yes, that's what me and Twilight used to call him. It was our little pet name," chuckled Rarity. "Well, I just wanted to make sure everything was going okay. I'll call you back tomorrow, and we'll talk about non-boring, non-business stuff. Fair?"

"Fair," agreed Belle.

"Okay. Bye bye little sis," Rarity said and hung up the phone. Belle sighed, pocketting her own phone as Spike walked over.

"Everything okay?" he asked.

"Fine," Belle said stiffly. "I was just talking to Rarity."

"Rarity?" Spike's eyes lit up and she felt something strange biting at her insides. "How's she doing?"

"Fine," said Belle curtly, trying to stifle the jab in her stomach. "A little busy. She called, and made sure everything was working out with you."

"What'd you say?" asked Spike.

"I said you were fine," said Belle, all too tempted to say 'I told her you were the most insensitive jerk I've ever met.'

"Just fine?" He groaned, "I've been working my ass off around here!" Spike shook his head and ran a hand into his hair, looking a little hurt. "Seriously, I've been trying my best. I thought that my work was really good."

Belle felt herself soften, almost a physical thing, the anger giving way to something milder, like exasperation at his inability to see how dense he really was. She put a hand on his shoulder, feeling that she could at least try to bridge the silent gap between them.

"You're doing great Spike," said Belle. "I've just been... I don't know. I've been feeling a little lost lately." She gave the shoulder a few pats, "Keep up the good work."

"Thanks," said Spike, obviously appreciating the forced brightness. He briefly put a hand on hers and walked away.

"Spike-" Belle half-called after him, but he was already gone. Shaking her head, she wandered back to her dress, slowly beginning to mend it. Only later did she realise she was holding back tears.

~

That evening Belle slowly opened the front door to her flat. She took it in - the small, three room apartment she could barely afford on the stipend Rarity gave her. Even though she had lived there for a while, it still seemed a little alien to her. She hadn't spent much time in it back when she was going to school - back when she had a life other than the boutique, and the occasional day spent with her friends.

She had decided to take a little break from college. It was something that very few people knew - she hadn't even told her parents. She had always wanted to be as succesful as Rarity, but she had been struggling for a while. Her Dean had suggested she take a little time to get herself together, and she had obliged. She hoped that she could keep in contact with some of her classmates, but they quickly left her behind. She sometimes wondered whether it was worth it to go back to school at all. She knew Rarity wouldn't let her run the shop if she decided not to go back to school, but who says she needed Rarity's help? Who said she couldn't find her own job, and make it on her own? Then she thought of Spike - finally having his job, finally getting his life together. How he would react if he not only lost his own job, but found out that Belle was struggling like him?

Belle walked into her living room (and kitchen, and dining room), and fell onto a couch. She set her purse down, and rubbed her eyes. Well who cared about Spike? Oh, no use trying to lie to herself. She did. And she knew that she couldn't do anything to hurt him.

"This is so stupid!" she said out loud. She pounded her fist into the couch, and let out an exasperated groan. She was already in love. Not head over heels love, but stupid puppy love. Still, puppy or not, it was still love. And if she knew anything, she knew it sucked to be in unrequited love. The more she thought about it, the more she realized that he was probably sparing her feelings. He was Spike - he would like crazy, wild girls, not girls like her. He had gotten drunk, kissed her, and now couldn't think of a way to let her down easy.

Belle got up off the couch, and walked to her bedroom. She put her purse away, stripped down to her underwear, and got into bed. She pulled the covers over herself, and closed her eyes knowing she wouldn't be able to sleep tonight, but she could at least try. She tried to keep not just Spike, but all her old loves out of her head. Still, trying not to think of something is the best way to think of it. She thought of lovers lost, and lovers she never had. Of painful breakups, and horrid let downs. Of being told no, and being forced to tell others no. It was going to be a rough, rough night.

~

"Come on in!" shouted Scootaloo. Belle found the front door unlocked, and she stepped inside. Scootaloo stood at the back of the hall looking at herself in the large mirror and smoothing the fabric out on a tight fitting black dress she was wearing.

"What's the occasion?" asked Belle.

"We're going dancing!" shouted Scootaloo, wiggling her hips.

"We sure are!" Applebloom yelled back. She came downstairs, wearing a well worn - but still pretty - red top with a knee-length yellow skirt. "We're gonna tear it up! And maybe I'll find a new lady love."

"And you're coming with us," said Scootaloo, grabbing Belle by the arm and pulling her into the room.

"I can't, I don't have anything to wear," said Belle.

"Covered," countered Applebloom, pulling a blue dress out of a nearby shopping bag. "Sorry Belle, you don't have an excuse."

"I don't know girls. I just don't feel up to it," a shrug said it all. Even if it was a really nice looking dress...

"Not even if I told you a certain spiky-haired ruffian would be there?" probed Scootaloo.

"Spike? At a club? Please," scoffed Belle. "There's no way in hell."

"Oh he'll be there," said Applebloom.

"How are you so sure?" Belle asked.

"Because he told me he would be, for one thing," explained Applebloom. "And because I told him if he wasn't I'd break every bone in his body. And he knows I wasn't jokin' about that."

"Wait a minute," Belle said slowly. "Did you invite him out?"

"I did," admitted Applebloom. "I couldn't help myself." Belle shot her a dark look. "Don't be gettin' jealous now. Remember, I ain't buying what he's selling."

"I'm not jealous," huffed Belle. "I just don't know if you should meddle in my affairs so much."

"Meddle in your affairs!" A fire kindled behind Applebloom's eyes. "Now wait just one damn minute-"

"All right, hold on now," said Scootaloo, holding her hands out between her two feuding friends. "Before we all get our collective panties in a bunch, let's calm down and think this through. Belle, you know Applebloom was just trying to help you." Belle crossed her arms, but gave a little nod. "And Applebloom, you know Belle is sensitive about this sort of thing. You know better then to get mad at her." Applebloom blew her bangs out of her eyes, and returned the nod. "Now come on girls. No fighting - especially before we hit the club. Kiss and make up." Applebloom's face alit in a huge smile.

"Now you're talking my language," said Applebloom, rubbing her hands together.

"On the cheek," said Belle with a smile. After Applebloom deflated, melodramatically, she gave her friend a tiny peck on the cheek.

"All right. Belle, go get changed," said Scootaloo, pointing upstairs. "Applebloom, get out the nectar of the gods - we're pre-gaming."

"Yes ma'am!" said Applebloom with a salute. She tossed Belle her new dress, and she went upstairs to try it on. When she was halfway there, Scootaloo shouted up after her.

"Hey, knock on Vinyl's door and make sure she's ready to go - she's DJ'ing later tonight."

"You got it chief!" shouted Belle in response. She ran up the last few stairs, and stopped in front of Vinyl and Octavia's door. She gave a hard knock, and before she could stop it, the door flew open from the impact.

She saw Octavia and Vinyl in a deep, passionate embrace, the light in the room was moody and low, but it was enough to clearly set the scene. They stood in front of the bed, wrapped around each other - barely distinguishable as two separate bodies. Vinyl - pale, but curvy, her blue hair hanging disheveled around her head - had her hands between Octavia's long, lean legs, one of which was wrapped around the DJ's hip. The tan, toned beauty was deep in the throws of an orgasm, clasping Vinyl for support. She was silent, wide eyes staring off into space, as if the force of it had stolen the voice from her. Belle carefully backed away from the scene, but the two quickly noticed her. Octavia - after she recovered herself - was quick to hide her nudity. Vinyl seemed not to care, and simply stood in all her body's glory.

"We're leaving soon," Belle managed to choke out, "Just wanted to make sure you were ready."

Before either lover could respond, Belle bounded away, and ran into the nearby bathroom, slamming the door behind her. She collapsed against it, and let out a nervous laugh. The scene kept replaying itself again and again in her head. It was not entirely unpleasant. Even though Belle was not attracted to girls, she did feel the passion between the two. She wondered it would be like if Spike touched her like that... if his hands were as powerful as his lips.

"Are you okay in there?" asked Vinyl. "Sorry about that - we should have locked the door."

"It's all right," Belle answered in a voice that sounded too high pitched to be hers, "I'll be out in a minute."

"Cool," said Vinyl, and Belle heard her walk away. She quickly changed, and ran downstairs.

~

Club Hoof - playfully named after the town it resided in - was noisy, crowded, and loud. The club played badly remixed techno music (except when Vinyl was at the helm), and charged an absurd amount of money for drinks. Unfortunately, it was the only half-decent club in Ponyville. Plus, the club rarely carded, and when they did, they always (with a little extra tip) seemed to misread the age on the card. The girls quickly paid their dues, and ran out onto the floor.

Applebloom quickly fell in line with an attractive blond, while Scootaloo found an old classmate. Belle made her way through the club, carefully maneuvering through the thick knot of bodies on the dance floor. The pulsing music and strobe lights were giving her a hell of a headache, but she soldiered on, desperate to find Spike. She circled the place a few times. Occasionally, she would see a shock of green hair and feel a surge of hope in her heart - but it was never him. She quickly realized he wasn't there.

She found a table, and sat at it, put her head in her hands and mentally kicked herself a few times. She was so stupid - she had known Spike wouldn't be here.

Looking back out, she saw that Applebloom and her new friend were getting pretty close for people who had just met. Scootaloo had given up on her beau, and danced with a circle of girls near the center of the floor. Belle sighed, and ran her fingers idly over the table. Just as she was about to fall into the almost meditative state of powerful boredom, she felt a tap on her shoulder. Without much enthusiasm, she turned and then nearly gasped in surprise. It was Spike. He was dressed in a suit, holding the jacket over his shoulder. His hair was still green, but it was styled in a much less outrageous fashion. It looked like a shorter version of what she had done for him in the shop. Spike gave her a wide smile.

"I know, I look so different," he said.

"You look incredible," Belle said in a near whisper.

"What?" Spike shot an irritated look at the DJ, "Sorry, I can't hear you over this stupid music."

"Yeah, it's pretty bad. You wanna head outside?" asked Belle. She shot a nervous look at the booth, somehow afraid that Vinyl might have heard her. Spike nodded, and the two carefully wove their way through the crowd. Applebloom saw the two, and tipped Belle a wink. Belle winked back. They reached the door, and made their way out onto the street. Spike found a nearby bench, and sat down. As Belle sat with him, he hung his jacket over the back, pulled a cigarette and a lighter out of his pocket and began to smoke. Belle thought she would hate it, but she found the smell strangely nostalgic.

"I can't believe you came out to a club," Belle said. The comment drew a chuckle.

"I can't believe it either. But to be fair, I was threatened." He grimaced, "You have some pretty intimidating friends."

"Yeah, they can be pretty assertive," agreed Belle. The two sat in companionable silence for a while, Spike's cigarette gradually shrinking. "Who did your hair?"

"One of Twilights friends. Some pink haired chick. Turns out she works in some sort of animal grooming place," he shrugged with a smile for the minor joke, "guess human hair isn't much different than other animals."

"And the suit?" inquired Belle.

"Hand me down. It was Dash's husbands. Since he's getting a tux for the wedding, he didn't need it anymore. Nice guy," said Spike, flicking his cigarette butt away. "Can't remember his name."

"It fits you," she couldn't help teasing a little, "you pull off normal pretty good."

"Gee, thanks," said Spike, rolling his eyes. "So, what do you want to do? Dance some more?"

"No, I don't really feel like it tonight." she answered honestly.

"So what do you want to do then?"

Belle steepled her hands under her chin, and gave the matter some serious thought. "What does a punk like you do on nights like tonight?" She pondered out loud. Spike laughed, but then noticed that her face was completely serious.

"Oh come on. You don't want to do what I do!" Spike said, waving his hands.

"Sure I do," she insisted, "I took you out, and showed you how I lived. Now you show me how you live."

Spike shook his head, "No way."

"Come on. Let's do something crazy... Spikey-Wikey," Belle dropped her voice to a threatening tone and Spike blushed furiously.

"Who told you about that?" he asked, turning his face away, "Never mind, I don't care." He turned back towards her, seriousness written all over his face. "Fine. I'll show you how I live. But I can't guarantee you'll like it."

"Well, sometimes you have to try something new," said Belle. Spike sighed, and stood up.

"Fine. Follow me."

~

"This might have been a bad idea," said Belle.

"I warned you," said Spike.

"Oh well. Too late now. Let's do it!" Belle screamed.

"Wait! Belle-" before Spike could stop her, Belle pushed off with her right foot, and rolled into the concrete bowl. She desperately tried to keep her balance - her dress and shoes weren't helping - and as the bowl curved back up, she ate it. She threw her hands up to protect her face, and managed to avoid any serious injury as the board went skittering away, but that hurt.

She lay against the side, dazed. "Holy shit! Are you okay?" asked Spike, carefully sliding into bowl. Belle bobbed her head in the affirmative, and managed to stand back up.

"That's a lot harder then it looks," muttered Belle, rubbing the back of her head. He moved in closer, hand out a little in case he had to catch her- he'd seen plenty of kids eat it, balancing was always difficult for them for a bit after.

"You're not hurt, are you?" He was frowning, voice low, nearly a whisper.

"No, I'm fine," assured Belle. "I appreciate the concern though."

"It just looked like you took that fall pretty hard," said Spike. "I thought you might have cracked your head open." He peered at the top of her head to see if there was any sign of that.

Belle placed a hand on his chest, and was shocked to find his heart was racing. She looked into his eyes, and saw concern. She did her best to stop a smile from forming on her face - as nice as it was, she probably should be serious.

"I'm fine. Cross my heart, hope to die," she made the motions that accompanied the rhyme, "stick a needle in my eye."

"Please don't, I have enough to worry about," sighed Spike. Belle giggled, but almost collapsed - she still hadn't found her footing. Spike was ready and grabbed her. He helped her up, and she sat on the edge of the bowl while he found his board and returned to sit next to her.

He had brought her to the nearby skate park. It was a little broken down, and covered in graffiti, but Belle supposed it had a weird charm to it, nestled as it was out of view of the main roads so 'normal' people wouldn't have to see it. They were the only two there - not a surprise, really. It was night, and it was a friday. Most of the other deviants were out getting in trouble, and the night was warm enough that the cool concrete beneath her was welcome.

"I think I should give it another go," said Belle. "Maybe if I take these shoes off..."

"No," said Spike, holding his hand out. "No way. Absolutely not. I shouldn't have let you do it in the first place."

"Fine," Belle resigned. "Then you do it. I want to see you try." Spike smiled, as if he had been waiting for this. He folded his jacket up, and handed it to Belle. He began to unbutton his shirt, and Belle raised an eyebrow.

"Don't want to get it dirty - in case I wipe out," said Spike. He then let out a little laugh, and peeled it off and placing it in Belle's hands as well, "That probably won't happen, but better safe then sorry." Belle was surprised to find that he was rather muscular. Not overly so - he didn't have a six pack, or bulging biceps, but he was relatively well cut. He had several tattoos - two wings were etched onto his shoulders, and a line of purple flame went across his chest.

He dropped the board at his feet and closed his eyes before, gently, leaning forward and pushing off. The board dipped down into the bowl, and - instead of panicking like she had - he seemed to relax. His body moved with the motion of the board, carefully balancing himself with every subtle movement it made. He rode with fluid grace, going up and down with no effort at all. Belle stared open mouthed as he dipped up and around the slopes to gain some speed. He made it seem so easy. He gave Belle a little wave, and then his eyes narrowed. Reaching the apex of the bowl, he pushed with his left foot, and propelled himself into the air. He grabbed the bottom of the board, and spun himself in a circle. After a heartstopping little moment of hang time... he landed it, and gave a little fist pump.

He came back around, rode straight up the ramp and landed on the ground outside of the bowl. Without ceremony he picked up his board and walked back over to Belle.

"So, what do you think?" Spike panted. Belle reached out, and embraced him. At first, Spike tensed at her touch, but then his muscles seemed to melt, and he returned the hug.

"Pretty cool, for a punk," Belle said. She let him go - he was a little sweaty, and she didn't want to ruin her dress. "Nice tattoos by the way. They're very pretty."

"Pretty?" muttered Spike, a dark look falling onto his face.

"No! N- n- not pretty!" Belle stuttered. "Handsome. Cool."

"Thanks," said Spike, rubbing a hand along the flame across his chest. "I got them done a long time ago. You should have seen the look on Twilights face."

"I'm sure she was super happy," giggled Belle. The two shared a laugh. A silence began to creep between them. Belle began to fidget. After a while, Spike finally broke it.

"I'm sorry," muttered Spike.

"For what?"

"For ignoring you. I just..." he walked away from her, and set the board down. He put one foot on the board, and gently moved it back and forth. "I don't know. I wasn't sure how you felt. You were drunk - I wasn't sure how much you really wanted to do it." He flipped the board up with a hard kick, and caught it midair. "I was afraid that you thought I was trying to take advantage of you." He turned his head away, hiding his face from Belle. She walked up to him, still holding his shirt and jacket in her arms.

"Spike, look at me," Belle implored. Spike turned. Tears were welling up in his eyes. Belle put his jacket and shirt over her shoulder, and again reached out to him. This time, she brushed her hands through his hair. She put some pressure on the back of his head, pulling him close.

"We were drunk, stupid. But I'm sure - one hundred percent sure - that I wanted that kiss. In fact..." Belle continued to pull him closer. "I think I want a kiss right now." Spike put a hand on the nape of her neck, and the two locked eyes. "Your eyes are so green... like emeralds."

Their lips met - hesitantly at first. It was their first sober kiss and they were still exploring each other. Spike pulled in for another, and another. He was a dominant kisser - and Belle willingly obliged him. His tongue began to explore hers, and Belle dropped his jacket on the ground. Spike followed suit, and tossed his skateboard aside. They embraced each other, hands exploring bodies, lips exploring lips. She felt his muscles, his body pulsing underneath her hands. She felt his arms, his chest. She ran her hands along his back, around his tattoos. He felt her softness - her slight hesitancy. Her flowing, silky hair. They fell against each other, their spirits tangled together. It only lasted a minute or two, but it was wonderful. Powerful. They finally pulled apart, panting.

Belle let out a nervous giggle, and picked up Spike's clothes. "Sorry about that," she said breathlessly.

"It's all good," Spike said, picking his board back up. "All very, very good. Good. Definitely good."

"So it was good?" Belle laughed. Spike nodded.

"I guess I should get back to the Hoof," Belle said with earnest disappointment. "The girls will be wondering what happened to me." Spike frowned, and shuffled his feet. Belle gave him a little shove. "You don't have to go. I know it's not really your scene."

"No, it really isn't," Spike agreed. "You gonna be okay walking back?"

"I'm a big girl," Belle said. She handed him back his jacket and shirt.

"When can I see you again?" he asked.

"Tomorrow - you got a job, remember?"

"I mean, when can I see you-"

"I know what you mean," Belle teased. "I'll let you know." She brought his head down, and gave him one final, lingering kiss. "But it'll be sooner rather then later." She took a few steps backwards, and then finally broke out into a fast walk, waving to Spike as she faded into the streetlights. Spike wiped his hand against his forehead - it was soaked with sweat.

"Holy shit," he muttered.

~

"Oh my Gawd, that is awesome!" screamed Scootaloo, bouncing on the balls of her feet. She was holding her shoes, and swinging them around with glee.

"It was pretty awesome," agreed Belle. Scootaloo nearly lost her balance, and Belle tightened her hold on the over-excited girl. The two were walking away from the club, towards the car. Scootaloo was - once again - pretty hammered. "You gotta calm down on the booze hun," admonished Belle.

"Oh puh-leaze," groaned Scootaloo, "Don't be such an Applejack."

"I'll second that," came a voice from behind them. The two spun around, and saw Applebloom approaching them. She had her head hung low. Her hair was desheviled and Belle could tell something was up, but Scootaloo was oblivious.

"Bloomy!" she shrieked, breaking away from Belle, and jumping at Applebloom. Applebloom managed to catch her. "I thought you were going home with that pretty blonde chick."

"Nope," sighed Applebloom. Scootaloo let go of her, and took a step back. She was finally noticing Applebloom's fallen mood. "What's a matter babe?"

"She's not gay," huffed Applebloom. Scootaloo raised an eyebrow.

"What do you mean she's not gay?" Scootaloo asked.

"What do you think I mean!" Applebloom exploded. Scootaloo took a step back. "We were dancing together, I was getting a good vibe with her..." she began to calm down, and her anger began to transform into sadness. "She.. she took me outside. We talked. And I tried to kiss her. She kissed me back, and then out of nowhere..." Applebloom just shook her head. "She called me some dirty words, said I tricked her, and left." Applebloom's lip began to quiver. "I don't know whether she's just in the closet, or if she just wanted to try it out... but there's no reason to talk to someone like that." The tears began to fall. "There's just no..." her last few words became a sob. Her two friends ran over to her, and embraced her. Applebloom shook with heart-wrenching sobs. "I fucking hate this place. I hate it."

"It's okay," whispered Belle soothingly, "you're gonna be alright." Applebloom shook her head.

"No, no I'm not. I'm tired of this. I don't know how Pinkie, or Vinyl, or any of them deal with it. I'm tired of being called a dyke. I'm tired of being told that what I'm doing is wrong." She looked earnestly at her friends. "How can what I feel be wrong? I love these people... how can love be wrong?" The girls all stood in silence, Applebloom shivering, tears running down her cheeks. "Let's go home."

~

Belle - the most sober of the three - had dropped Applebloom and Scootaloo off at Scoot's house. The two sat together on the couch, snuggled against each other to stave off Applebloom's depression.

"So Belle made out with Spike?" asked Applebloom. She had managed to calm herself down in the car. She still hurt - and not just emotionally. Something hard and painful seemed to dig into her chest. She felt truly hateful for the first time in years. But she was trying to put it all away - this was not her friends' battle. This was her own.

"Yeah," said Scootaloo, "she said it was awesome. He's got tattoos."

"Sexy," muttered Applebloom. Scootaloo nodded, then stretched and stood up.

"I'm going to bed," she said. "You gonna stay over?"

"If you don't mind," said Applebloom.

"When have I ever minded?" said Scootaloo, making her way towards the stairs. She went up, taking each stair very carefully. Applebloom made sure she heard her door open and close before she stretched out on the couch. She took her shoes off, set them near a beanbag chair and closed her eyes. She started to fade...

"Bloomy? Bloomy, can you hear me?" Applebloom's eyes snapped open. She got up, and ran over to the front of the staircase.

"Scoot? Are you okay?" Applebloom said, her voice uneven.

"I... I need to see you." Applebloom pounded up the stairs. Scootaloo might be sick - she got a little crazy with the alcohol sometimes. She ran up to her room, and threw open the door.

"Scoot-" her voice was stolen away from her. The room was lit by a single lamp, throwing the scene into harsh focus. Scootaloo stood before Applebloom, almost completely naked. She wore only her panties - black, silky. Her skin was beautifully tanned, the kind of tan that only comes from spending long days out in the sun. Her hair was messy, lying across her head like tossed hay. Her breasts were perky and her nipples hard. They rose and fell with her breath. Applebloom noticed this, and more - the curvature of her body, the dimples of her hips, the acrylic pink of her nails - but she couldn't process it.

"I want you," muttered Scootaloo. She approached Applebloom - nearly falling as she did so - and put her hands on Applebloom's shoulders. Their breasts were nearly touching. Applebloom felt her mouth dry, her skin go cold.

"You're drunk," said Applebloom. "You don't want this."

"I do!" gasped Scootaloo. "I want this more than anything. I've always wanted this..." she pushed herself against Applebloom, until the redhead could feel her heat. "I've always wanted you. You should have known... the way I look at you. But I couldn't ask. I'm not like you, Bloomy. I'm not strong. You're one of the bravest people I know, and still you suffer. I'm not brave... I'm such a coward. If someone called me a dyke, or a queer, I'd fall apart. And then there's my family. I couldn't stand the looks, the whispering. Every time I think of telling my mother, I see her sadness in my minds eye. She wouldn't abandon me, but she'd wonder where she went wrong. Wonder why her little girl became a sinner. And my father..." Applebloom felt her shiver. "I don't even want to think about that. But this... this can be our secret. I want you to love me. Love me like you've loved all those other girls." Scootaloo looked at her imploringly. "Please?"

Applebloom took Scootaloo's hand, and led her over to the bed. She helped the unsteady girl into it and Scootaloo looked up at her - ready for her friend to join her - but Applebloom pulled up her covers.

"Go to sleep babe," whispered Applebloom. She kissed Scootaloo on the cheek. "I love you - you know that. And I'll help you through this. But not now. Not when you're drunk." She rubbed her hand lovingly through Scootaloo's spiky hair. "We'll talk tomorrow." Applebloom walked away.

Scootaloo looked up at her with disappointment, but her eyes were already heavy in near sleep. Applebloom turned out the light, and shut the door, leaning up against it, steadying herself. She made her way down the stairs, and laid back on the couch. She didn't know whether Scootaloo would remember her admission in the morning. And if she did... no. Applebloom could not think about that now. She had to follow her own advice. For now, sleep.

~

In her dreams, Belle dreamed of great dragons. They towered over her, and enveloped her in wonderful fire. Applebloom dreamed of something just out of reach - something she desperately wanted, but could never grab. Scootaloo dreamed of playing soccer with her friends - a never ending game of soccer, where both teams won.