Topiary TeaView OnlineThe Root of the ProblemTopiary Tea“Did you get it? Is it finally here?” Spike leaned against the castle’s barely open door, peering at Rarity through the gap and drinking in her glorious yet hungry smile. He grinned, winked, and brought a small brown paper package into view. Rarity dashed forward with a squeal, pulling him and the package into a embrace that quickly turned into a minor earthquake when her hind legs began tapping madly. “At last, after all these long months of waiting! It’s here! It’s finally here!” Spike saw those months differently, what with how nearly every day had begun with this same doorstep exchange, usually followed by a conciliatory chat or brunch after he related the bad news. But this was even better; he hadn’t seen Rarity this happy in ages, not since he first told her about his exchanging letters with Shining Armor, and how he and Princess Cadance were about to visit southern Minotauria. “Relax, Rarity. It’s only—” She fixed him with a smile of utter confidence and, unless he was mistaken, great affection. “Clearly, my dear dragon, you weren’t listening when I described just how rare… but enough talk. You know what time it is, don’t you?” “Tea time?” “Tea time!” Applejack’s scream of “Wait, stop!” echoed through Carousel Boutique, rattling the elaborate tea service on the table and making its proprietor choke. Spike ran into the dining room, broom and dustpan still in hand, while Rarity coughed and sputtered. A steaming teacup floated in her magic grasp, and precious droplets of what she’d described to him as “the most extravagant and elusive tea in the known world” littered the china saucer and silk tablecloth. “Rarity, are you okay?” He patted her back in an effort to help her breathe and glanced at Applejack, who’d taken fewer than three steps into the boutique since shouting. “What’s the big deal, Applejack? What’s wrong?” “Plenty! Rarity didn’t drink that stuff, did she?” Rarity waved Spike away and directed a menacing hoof at her newest guest. “That’s what one generally does with tea, Applejack! I happen to be sampling one of the rarest drinkable delicacies known to ponykind!” Applejack rushed forward and pushed the teacup down to the table. “That ain’t tea!” Spike sighed and shook his head. “I know it smells different, AJ, but it really is just tea! I called in a favor with Princess Cadence to get some delivered here, and right after Twilight and I dropped off that special fertilizer sample that accidentally got delivered to the castle—” Rarity gagged anew. She coughed and dragged a napkin across her tongue like sandpaper against rough wood, her gaze jumping from one horrified friend to the next. “Please tell me I didn’t just drink—” Applejack cradled her hat under a foreleg, her ears drooping and her countenance following suit. “All I know for certain is I’ve got an empty package addressed to ‘Rarity, care of Spike the Dragon.’ I should’ve figured there was something funny going on when the south field started smelling like that frou-frou, bubbly-something place you dragged us all to in Manehattan.” Spike rushed to the kitchen counter and retrieved the freshly opened box still brimming with powdered tea leaves, or so he assumed. “There’s no way this isn’t your tea, Rarity! Remember how we looked over all the foreign stamps on the box, and—” Twilight teleported into the kitchen with a small bang, finally knocking over Rarity’s teacup and spilling its pea-green contents across the white tablecloth. “Rarity! There’s a big problem with the mail, I think you got… Applejack, Spike, what’re you doing here?” Applejack sighed. “Same reason you are, sugar cube. That goes for me at least; I reckon Spike’s always within ten feet of you or Rarity.” Spike simply blushed, while Rarity turned away with an indignant huff. “I’ll have you know I insisted Spike stay the afternoon and try this extremely rare tea with me, which is the least I can do in exchange for his tireless efforts to acquire it from southern Minotauria on my behalf, thanks to his connections with the Crystal Empire.” Twilight fixed Spike with a sisterly gaze that spoke volumes: How many rare comic books do you owe Shining Armor? Spike shrugged in reply. All of them. “Besides,” Rarity continued, “I don’t recall the rest of you taking even the slightest interest whenever I suggest partaking in something truly sophisticated for a change. Half the time Spike is the only one who bothers to come.” Applejack cocked an eyebrow and nodded to Spike’s abandoned broom and dustpan. “Uh huh.” Spike glared at her. “I spilled some sugar, okay?” Applejack grinned. “Uh huh. Anyway, you looking for this, Twi?” She held up a small brown package covered in stamps. Spike did a double take, certain that Applejack had somehow swiped the tea’s package from the countertop. “Wow, that looks exactly like the… uh oh.” A third identical package appeared next to Twilight in a purple flash. She tilted it sideways and pointed to the label. “We all got mail order packages today, right?” Rarity nodded. “Tea… expensive… rare.” Applejack did the same. “Fertilizer. The strongest, most concentrated stuff in the world to give some pesky, impossible-to-grow-anything-in soil a kick.” “As for me,” Twilight added, “a sample of a rare plant species that—” “What did I just drink?” Rarity interrupted. “Tea!” Spike shouted. He grabbed the package from the counter and jammed a claw against the label. “It says so right here! T-e-a-hyphen—what? There’s a dozen more letters here all in really small print!” Twilight took the package in her magic. “It’s not written in Equestrian, Spike. In its native language it’s a scientific name for—” The tea service jumped as Rarity pounded her hooves on the table. “What did I just drink?” “And what did I just dust the south field with?” Applejack shouted. Twilight took their corresponding packages and compared the labels. “AJ, your fertilizer is back at the castle; the smell tipped me off as soon as I opened it. I think you just dusted your crops with expensive tea leaves.” Rarity planted her face on the table, next to her upended cup and still-steaming tea pot. “And as for me?” Twilight grimaced. “It’s… complicated, but it’s absolutely fixable. Don’t worry about that!” Spike placed a comforting hand on Rarity’s foreleg, close to tears himself. “This is all my fault, Rarity. If I'd read the label more carefully, I would've seen Twilight’s name on it. I'm so sorry!” Her other foreleg fell on his hand. “It's mine, too. I should've suspected something when the brewing instructions mentioned beakers and proper lab safety. I guess we were both just too excited.” Twilight took a deep breath. “Okay, let me explain: I’ve been doing some research on the magical properties of exotic flora, and there’s an extremely magical plant found only in certain tropical jungles that has a… unique defense mechanism. Its leaves contain a substance that turns animals that try to eat it into other plants, so they’ll get eaten by the next animal that comes along.” Rarity looked up, her eyes wet and her mouth agape. “You mean I’m… I’m turning into a plant? A pony-shaped topiary?” “There’s a cure, though! I’ll have you back to normal just as soon as I can get all the ingredients. Some of them are pretty rare, but Zecora probably has them.” Spike stared at Twilight with wide-eyed surprise. “You mean you didn’t order the antidote at the same time? Why not?” “It was… um… backordered,” Twilight mumbled.
SoiledView OnlineThe Root of the ProblemSoiledFor the tenth time in as many minutes, Spike took up Rarity’s free foreleg and cleared his throat. “How are you feeling, Rarity?” Her other foreleg was draped over her eyes. She hadn’t moved from her fainting couch ever since Applejack and Twilight left. She was as still as a statue. Or a tree. “I’m fine, Spike… aside from an increasing urge to plant my tail in the ground and face the sun.” Spike nodded. “Twilight said those were the first symptoms. But she’ll be back with the antidote soon. You can sit here and read, or knit, or whatever you want while we wait.” “Unless I happen to be a plant.” He squeezed her foreleg, hoping to comfort himself as well. “But you won’t be! Twilight said Zecora probably has all the ingredients for the antidote. You’ll be back to normal by lunch time.” I hope, he thought. “And if I’m not?” “Then… um…” The front door burst open and Twilight ran in, saddlebags overflowing with leafy branches and wilting flowers. “Okay… Okay.” Spike met her with arms held out, ready to take a handful of whatever magical herb Twilight had acquired and prepare it for Rarity. “So you’ve got it?” Applejack came through the door next with a sizable washbasin balanced on her back. “Where do you want this, Twilight?” “Anywhere is good. Thanks, AJ,” Twilight replied. Rarity sat up just as the washbasin clanged against the floor before her hooves. The bed of soil within shifted and jumped with the impact. “Applejack, what in the world are you—” “You’ve got it, don’t you?” Spike said again, this time with more worry than hope. Twilight looked from Spike to Rarity, her ears folded back and her eyes downcast. “Not exactly. The antidote requires twenty-six different ingredients, and Zecora only had—” Rarity flopped back on the couch. “And I take it this basin of dirt is just in case she doesn’t?” Applejack snorted. “Soil, Rarity, soil. It’s my best growing mix, jam-packed with fer—er, plant food, just in case you need it. We’ll get you cured as fast as we can.” Rarity sat up and wiped away a fresh tear. “Thank you, Applejack. I don’t mean to be ungrateful. I’m simply a tad overwhelmed by the concept of…” Twilight pulled them all into a group hug. “We’re just missing one last ingredient, from the deepest parts of the Everfree Forest. The rest of the girls and I are heading out there right now.” Spike stiffened. “But I want to help! I’m the reason this is happening in the first place!” “It's going to be really dangerous, Spike. Rarity can’t go outside just in case she gets worse, and you—” “Don't you say I'm too small,” Spike shouted. “I got Rarity into this mess, and I’m helping fix it!” “Actually…” Rarity’s level tone, lacking her earlier despair, drew everypony’s attention. She sat up on the couch, eyes fixed on the oversized planter before her. “Actually, Spikey, I’d be very grateful if a friend remained here, just to help me survive this ordeal with my wits intact.” Twilight patted Spike’s head with a smile. “I couldn’t have said it better. There’s more than one way to help, Spike.” He looked from Twilight’s warm smile, to Applejack’s wry one, to Rarity’s expectant gaze. “Okay. Okay, I’ll stay.” Applejack patted him on the back. “And we’d better go if we wanna be back before sundown.” Twilight followed Applejack towards the door, but paused to look back at Spike and Rarity. “You’re going to be okay here, right?” Spike saluted her. “I won’t leave Rarity’s side for a minute!” “And I—” Rarity slid off the couch and gave a deep sigh “—well I suppose I'll try to make the best of sitting in a bucket of… ugh… dirt. I don't think I can suppress the urge to do so any longer.” “Soil!” Appplejack countered through the open door. “Top grade soil!” “Please stop pacing, Spike.” Spike froze mid-step, unaware that he’d been slowly circling the room while his thoughts carried him across Equestria to wherever Twilight and the others were. He took a deep breath and faced Rarity, who of course was still sitting in the washbasin-turned-planter. Her front hooves were masses of leaves, and her sides now sported patches of smooth wood and the occasional blue flower. The normal, intoxicating scent of her perfume had given way to the strong, earthy scent of plant food, as Applejack had put it. A careful squint was all it took to picture Rarity simply sticking her head through a cutout in a carnival, ready to have an amusing photo taken of her as some sort of plant-pony hybrid. Reality—the fact that one of his dearest friends was becoming more flora than fauna with every passing second—defied his every attempt to take a deep breath and do something besides pace the room and wonder about Twilight and the others. “Please say something, Spike,” Rarity said with more than a little sternness. She tossed her mane as best she could, showering the floor with pollen. Spike gave a quick nod, fixed his eyes on hers, and tried to smile. Rarity had asked him to stay to help lift her spirits. Surely he could do that. “So… uh… Can I get you something?” That question had a million answers, all of which Spike was accustomed to. For Twilight the answer usually involved a fetching a book or writing a letter. Normally Rarity would want help moving supplies or gathering gems, but neither seemed likely now. Maybe she’d like something to read. She frowned and looked down. “Could you sit here with me?” Spike stared at her, dumbfounded. When was the last time somepony asked him that? “Really?” Rarity began to sniffle. “Am I really that ugly, that you don’t even want to come near me?” “No!” he said at a shout. In an instant he was seated in front of her. “Why would you ever think that, Rarity? You’re just as—” “I am absolutely not beautiful or whatever other pleasantry you’re thinking! My mane is full of pollen, my hooves are sprouting… I’ve never been more of a mess!” “I’m sorry, Rarity. And you do look… different. But—” Spike stared into her eyes “—deep inside, you’re still you, right?” “Am I?” Her matter-of-fact tone stung worse than her crying. “I know I can hardly expect to feel normal, given the circumstances, but this is entirely different from being cold, or tired, or ill. I feel like I’m less than a pony, like I’m ceasing to be Rarity.” Spike stood, his heart racing. All she’d asked him to do was sit next to her to lift her spirits, and somehow he was screwing it up. “You’re still you, no matter if you’re a plant, or a pony, or a rock… you’re still you.” Rarity shifted her head to the left, or at least as far left as her increasingly wooden neck would allow. “If you don’t mind my asking, what was it like when you… transformed?” “What do you mean when I—? Oh… You mean when I got super-greedy and… yeah.” Spike sank down to the floor. He rarely thought about that incident anymore, about when his greed briefly turned him into a giant, single-minded dragon that terrorized Ponyville and held Rarity hostage. “I-I’m sorry if that’s too painful or personal, Spike.” “I don’t really remember much,” Spike murmured. It was painful, and it was personal, but nobody else had ever asked, much less one of his closest friends. “I kept seeing stuff I wanted more, and not the ponies I was taking it from. By the end ponies were just little things that moved… things in my way. I didn’t care who got hurt.” That last sentence came out as a whisper. Rarity had almost gotten flattened because of him. He could never take that back, no matter how many times she and everypony else forgave him. “My own transformation is certainly more… contained, but no less frightening, in my opinion.” “More frightening than a giant dragon picking you up and…” He couldn’t say the rest. She look down, her neck producing a faint creak. “I can hear things through my roots… faint little whispers from seeds in the soil.” Spike hunched down and examined the featureless soil at her hooves. “Whoa, really? What are they saying?” “I don’t really understand it, but it’s far from—Mmpf! Mmpf!” He stood up and gasped. Rarity’s mouth had turned to wood, half open in an unvoiced scream. Her eyes darted left and right while tears gushed down her leaf-riddled cheeks. “Rarity!” Her eyes stared at him, relating a single, piercing message that transcended speech: I’m scared. “Don’t be scared. Twilight will be back really soon, and then—” Tiny green buds formed on her eyebrows, and somehow her stare seemed all the more desperate. “I-I’m right here with you, and…” He couldn’t tell her not to be scared when he himself was terrified. Silence had overtaken the shop, save for his own breathing. Rarity’s frozen scream echoed in his ears all the same. He couldn’t watch anymore. Holding her gaze to give her courage meant losing all of his own. He couldn’t leave, either; running away was inviting and yet unthinkable, especially with his own near-deadly transformation fresh in his mind. “I don’t know what do, Rarity! I’m staying right here beside you, but I know you’re scared and I just wish I could help. I wish I could—” The abandoned tea service was sitting less than ten feet away, brimming with magical poison. Twilight’s sage advice echoed in his mind: There’s more than one way to help. He broke into a run for the teapot, shouting “I’m coming, Rarity! I’m coming to help!” in hopes that she could still hear him. Barely a sip of the tea had fully transformed Rarity inside of an hour. How fast would a full cup work? Spike couldn’t wait. He stepped into the soil, half-hugging Rarity with one hand while the other lifted the nearly full teapot to his lips. “I’m right here.” Lukewarm tea poured down his throat, and a moment later the floor seemed to fall away from under him. His grip on Rarity tightened as a hundred whispering voices rumbled up from the ground and the shop vanished into darkness. Suddenly he could feel rather than see the daylight, and roots beneath his toes sipped the soil’s sweet water. And then Rarity’s voice echoed through him. “What’s happening? Who's… Spike? Spike, is that really you?” He couldn’t nod, move, or even see. His perception of the world consisted of warm sun, cold shadow, nourishing soil, and now Rarity’s voice. “Yeah, it’s me.” “But how did you… Oh dear.” “I knew you were really scared, and I didn’t want you to go through this all alone. I couldn't!” Warmth surrounded Spike on all sides, like the noonday sun or a dear friend’s embrace. “Thank you, Spikey. I never expected you to… but thank you! Thank you!” He would never tire of this feeling. Regular hugs couldn’t compare to this sense of being completely swallowed up in another’s gratitude. Being a plant had its perks, so long as there was somepony special to share it with. “So what do we do now?” “Well… I suppose all we can do is wait for Twilight to return. I’m so sorry this is how we’re spending our afternoon.” “I guess it’s not the same as having super-rare tea, but… I’m glad you asked me to stay. This is way too weird and scary to go through alone.” “And thank you for doing the noblest, most princely thing imaginable in my hour of need. We’ll have to do something truly wonderful to celebrate your gallantry, won't we?” Spike could feel his own feelings radiating outward, just as Rarity’s had. “It’s just what any good friend would do.” Rarity’s giggling amusement pulsed through the soil. “I do believe you’re blushing, Spikey Wikey. There’s no hiding it from a fellow plant, apparently. Now tell me, where shall we go to celebrate, hmm? Should we invite the others along or make it just the two of us?” “I… uh…” If his knees could still bend, they’d be in danger of buckling. “Just the two of us?” “I don’t see why n—” Light flooded Spike’s suddenly restored eyes, and a tingling, pine-like smell hung in his nose. He flopped onto the floor, coughing through a green mist hanging in the air. Applejack stepped around the mist cloud a moment later, an aerosol sprayer poised in her mouth. “Got Spike,” she shouted. “Aah—oof!” Rarity toppled onto the floor beside him. Twilight stood over them, another aerosol sprayer in her magic grasp. “And there’s Rarity. Phew, we’re done.” Spike flexed his toes. Never had such a simple act felt more miraculous. He took a deep breath next, positively relishing the feeling of cool air filling his lungs. “Wow, that was… something.” Twilight fixed him with a frown and a stare. “What happened, Spike? Was it an accident?” “I… um… nope.” His gaze dropped to the emptied teapot resting in the soil. Twilight spotted the teapot and gasped. “Wait, you… why? Spike, that was a huge risk! What if the antidote didn’t work on dragons? What if I didn't have enough of it? What if—” “I… I just had to?” Rarity came up beside him and kissed him on the cheek. “And I couldn’t be more grateful. Thank you for being such a noble dragon, Spikey.” Twilight’s eyebrows shot up. “Huh? What happened?” Spike blushed yet again. “Rarity was scared and…” Rarity cleared her throat. “Spike is a wonderful friend, Twilight. Let’s just leave it at that for the moment.” Twilight sighed and shrugged. “Let’s just move all this stuff to the castle. I won’t be able to decontaminate it until tomorrow, but—” Applejack set the planter on her back. “So long as nopony else fancies turning into a tree… or turning into a tree while hugging one.” She glanced at Spike and winked.
RootedView OnlineThe Root of the ProblemRootedSpike sat up in bed the next morning, his heart racing as his name echoed through the castle. “Spiiiiiiiike!” Twilight shouted. He burst out of his bedroom and stumbled down the hallway in a daze. “Coming, Twilight… What’s got you so m—” Starlight stepped out of the bathroom and collided with him. “Oops! Sorry, Spike. So—” she leaned in close “—what’d you do?” Spike rubbed his eyes. “Huh? I didn’t—” “Spiiiiiiiiiiiiiike!” Twilight called again. Starlight cocked an eyebrow. “If the who-ate-all-the-cookies-I-made-for-Cadance incident is anything to go by, that’s a ‘Spike’s in Trouble’ Twilight scream.” “But—” “I hope it was worth it, whatever it was. Come on, let’s go. Maybe I can deflect her first barrage of magic bolts, so you have a chance to run for it.” Spike groaned. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, or why Twilight sounds super-upset. I didn’t do anyth—” Twilight burst through a door at the end of the hall, mane astray and safety goggles perched on her horn. “There you are!” Spike jumped behind Starlight, despite his innocence. “I didn’t do it, whatever it is!” Twilight stood before them for a moment, panting like she’d run a marathon, and wide-eyed like she’d been competing against a hungry timber wolf. She finally spoke in a quiet yet deathly serious tone. “Could you join me in the lab, please?” “Um… Okay.” He fell into step behind her, and soon realized Starlight was bringing up the rear of his supposed death march, trying and failing to suppress a mischievous grin while she mouthed “Hope it was worth it!” Maybe Twilight was right about Trixie being a bad influence. The procession ended at Twilight’s lab, a room filled with test tubes, beakers, and warning signs about protective equipment and dangerous chemicals. Twilight pointed a foreleg at the giant planter on the floor, surrounded by yellow hazard tape. At first glance it didn’t look any different from last night. Spike shrugged. “It’s just the planter, Twilight. What’s so special about—” Then he saw it. He froze, but Starlight didn’t. She stepped through the door and inspected the scene. “So this is soil where the infamous ‘plant incident’ happened? What’s with the weird flower growing here? It looks kind of like a cross between a snapdragon and a lily, but how—oh. Oh!” She turned back to Spike, mouth agape and ears drooping. “So you and Rarity turned into plants in this very soil, and now there’s a flower here…” Twilight blushed. Spike felt dizzy. Starlight grinned. “Well well, Spike. It looks like you and Rarity… cross-pollinated.” Spike’s progeny looked so much bigger in a normal-sized flowerpot. He stood on Rarity’s doorstep, rocking back and forth on his heels while he waited for his knock to be answered. He smiled at the closed door. “Hi Rarity, something big… err, small… something happened yesterday when we… and… No. Meet your… and my… our… flower?” The door swung open, and Rarity gave him a warm smile. “Good morning, Spikey. I’m afraid I’m rather busy, what with all the time I lost yesterday, but I can always spare a moment for my noble dragon. Is this flower for me?” Spike cringed and hugged the flowerpot. “Kind of?” Rarity batted her eyes. “Don’t tell me it’s for Sweetie Belle.” “No way! It’s uh… uh…” She leaned in and gave the bloom a sniff. “Mmm. It smells lovely, and I have the perfect vase to display it in. I’ll go get a pair of shears.” He recoiled with a yelp. “You can’t cut it!” Rarity frowned. “But… why not, darling?” “Remember when you were transforming yesterday, and I drank the tea too, and we…” Her smile returned, as warm and affectionate as ever. “I’ll never forget. If anything I should be bringing gifts to your doorstep, my Sp—” “We made this!” She stared at him, first as if she hadn’t heard and then as if she’d been turned to stone. Finally her blank expression sagged into a look of deepest horror. “What?” “Twilight found it growing in our soil this morning. I didn’t know this could happen! I never meant to… I’m a dragon and you’re a pony so I never thought we could make… but…” Rarity swayed from side to side as if she was about to faint, and then marched past Spike and down the street. He looked from her, to the open shop door, to the tiny load he was still carrying. After a moment’s hesitation, he pulled the shop door closed and hurried after her, flowerpot in hand. “Wait, where are you going?” She bowed her head but maintained a brisk pace. “I don’t know.” “What do you mean you don’t—” She shot him a heart-stopping glare. “I mean I don’t know! By all means pick somewhere, or I might just keep walking all day!” Spike instinctively held the flowerpot a little further from her. “Okay… uh… not anything tea related.” “Definitely not.” “And nowhere near the castle, considering how Twilight’s reacting.” “I can imagine.” He shut his eyes for a moment to think. Ponyville only had so many destinations, most of them filled with ponies who’d ask way too many questions about the flowerpot clasped in his claws. What he needed was someplace quiet where they could talk, someplace Rarity would find soothing. “This way! We’re going to the spa!”
HorticultureView OnlineThe Root of the ProblemHorticultureWith the flowerpot tucked under one arm and Rarity waiting despondently by his side, Spike rapped on the spa’s front desk. “What’s your most relaxing treatment? Whatever it is, we need it fast!” A pink mare leaned across the counter and gave him and the plant a curious stare. “Good morning… sir. All that’s available right now is the steam room. You probably shouldn't take your flower in there, though.” Rarity gave a deep sigh and spoke for the first time in ten minutes. “We’ll take it… both of us… just put it on my tab, will you?” The pink mare nodded. “Of course. Right this way, Rarity.” Spike followed after Rarity and their hostess, at a loss for what to say next, or even how many turns they’d taken through the spa’s surprisingly numerous hallways. Their march felt eerily similar to the long walk to Twilight’s lab: once again he was completely clueless as to what was about to happen. Was Rarity suddenly going to get angry, or start crying, or faint? Maybe the spa had its own fainting couch, considering how often Rarity came here. The pink mare slid open a metal door and beckoned them inside. “You can leave your flower on the bench here.” He set the flowerpot on the bench by the door but moved no further. Could he really leave it here? What if someone knocked it over or stole it? “Your flower will be fine,” the pink mare added. “Our staff is very careful, and for the moment you two have the steam room all to yourselves.” Rarity stood in the doorway, steam billowing around her hooves. “Won't you join me, Spike?” Leaving Rarity didn’t feel right either. After giving the flower one last look, Spike stepped into the steam room and the pink mare slid the door shut behind him. The air felt like it’d been imported from a tropical jungle. A gentle hiss brought fresh steam in through a vent in the ceiling, and the stone benches lining the walls were riddled with condensation. Spike took a deep breath of the hot, humid air, unsure if he was feeling any more relaxed. He just felt hot and wet. “What are we going to do, Spike?” Rarity had seated herself on a bench nearby, her face buried in her forelegs. “How could we… how could a dragon and a pony have… offspring?” “It really is just a flower. Twilight tried a bunch of potions and spells to make sure.” Rarity sat up and tilted her head back. “Just a flower indeed… We created life! Botanical life, granted, but still!” The sweat pouring down Spike’s forehead and back wasn’t relaxing in the slightest. What did Rarity see in this place, anyway? “So do I take care of the flower for half of the week, and you keep it the other half?” “I suppose it is just a flower,” Rarity muttered. “All the care it could possibly need involves a watering can and a place in the sun. Anypony could see to it.” Spike gasped. “But it’s not just a flower! I don’t want some random pony to forget to water it or… or eat it!” “Eat it?” Rarity shivered. “Eat our… I mean… Of course it is just a flower, but the very idea is revolting!” “Ponies eat flowers all the time!” “Yes, but not special ones, not flowers that… mean something more?” Spike sat in the middle of the floor, arms crossed. “It does mean something to you, right? A second ago you said it was just a flower.” “I’m well aware of what I said! I simply meant—” The steam room door slid open. Spike jumped up, expecting to be scolded for talking too loudly. Instead, Rose trotted in and seated herself on a free bench. “Hi, Rarity. Hi, Spike,” she said. “Hi, Rose… what brings you here?” Spike replied. Rose stretched out her forelegs. “Just taking a little break. I just got back from a big flower expo in Fillydelphia.” Rarity gave a friendly chuckle. “Ah, then welcome home, darling. I’m sorry if you overheard anything Spike and I… we’re in the middle of a rather important discussion, if you don't mind.” Rose closed her eyes and sighed contentedly. “Don’t let me intrude… unless it’s about where you found that Antirrhinum.” Spike scratched his head. “That what?” Rose yawned. “Antirrhinum… the flower in the pot outside. It’s a snapdragon all right, but I’ve only seen that coloration a couple times before.” Rarity leaped off her bench and stood over Rose. “Do you mean to say that that plant… it’s just a common wildflower? Perfectly ordinary in every respect?” Rose perked up and smiled at Rarity’s sudden interest. “I wouldn’t call it common, not around here anyway. I think the last time I saw one was near the Apple family’s orchard. Maybe it's something in their soil.” Spike gasped. “Uh, Rose? If it’s all right with you… and it’s all right with Rarity… do you want to keep it?” “Whoa, really? I’d love to!” Rarity turned to Spike. “Are you sure, Spikey?” He nodded. “If it’s really just a regular flower that came from a regular seed that was already in the soil… why not?” She looked down and twisted a front hoof. “It is special in a way… Weren’t you the one saying we needed to make sure it had expert care and attention?” Rose scowled. “I kind of grow flowers for a living, Rarity. I think I can handle it.” Spike grinned. “Disappointed?” Rarity gasped and shook her head with considerable force. “No! Certainly not! Never! You’re welcome to the flower, Rose. I believe Spike and I were just leaving.” The walk back to the boutique went quickly and quietly. Spike had no reason to follow Rarity there, but couldn’t think of where else to go. Going home meant having to explain the whole situation, which at the moment he barely understood himself. “So there were already a few seeds in the soil, and then Applejack put fertilizer all over it…” “Indeed.” “So it's just a coincidence.” “Indeed.” Spike studied Rarity’s stoic expression. Unsure and slightly afraid of where her emotions and even their friendship stood, given the wild ride of the last twenty four hours. One minute he'd been her noble dragon, the next he'd been carrying their presumed child across town in a flowerpot. “So… what happens now?” Rarity sighed. “I suppose I get back to work, and you let Twilight know what's happened.” “Yeah, I guess. But… what about you and me? We're still friends, right?” Rarity stopped in her tracks and faced him with a small smile. “Of course we are! Nothing can change that!” He stared into her eyes while her hoof caressed his cheek. “Really? Even after—” “After your selflessly coming to my aid, and remaining by my side in the wake of our defying the very laws of biology?” Her hoof tapped against his lips. “No force in Equestria shall ever tear us apart, or prevent me from doing this.” She pulled him into a hug, which he gratefully returned. “Or me from doing this,” he replied. “If that's all right with you, that is?” Rarity giggled. “Hug away, darling. Differences in biology aside, I certainly wouldn’t mind the two of us spending more t—” “Spike!” Starlight skidded to a stop next to them, a white envelope suspended in her magic. “You got a letter that says open immediately. I was just going to leave it on your bed, but Twilight saw the Royal Court of Canterlot return address and practically demanded I find… Spike?” Spike hadn’t let up on the hug, half-hoping that Starlight and the rest of Ponyville would leave him and Rarity alone for another minute, or hour. Starlight groaned. “Come on, Spike. Let your flower mama breathe, and take your dumb letter.” Rarity stiffened and practically pushed Spike away. “Flower… Now see here, Starlight, I don’t appreciate—” The letter fell into Spike’s hands and was open a second later. A few seconds after that he felt short of breath. “Court summons?” Starlight and Rarity broke off their argument and read over his shoulders, echoing the words he was reading in each ear. “Improper handling and transport of class seven controlled substance…” “Import of tariffed tea without prepayment of fees or possession of permit…” “Must appear before the lower court of Canterlot no later than… Yeesh!” Starlight put a hoof to her forehead and whistled. “And here I was figuring it was a common law notice or something.” Spike sank down until only Rarity and Starlight’s combined magic was holding him upright. Suddenly he was back in the steam room, this time remembering Shining Armor’s meticulous instructions about obtaining a royal import waiver, something he’d promptly forgotten about every morning when Rarity stopped by. “What am I going to do?” Rarity fanned him, smiling softly. “I’ll be by your side every step of the way, Spikey. Let’s go plan your legal defense, perhaps over an early lunch?” Starlight rolled her eyes. “Have fun. Twilight has some tea brewing back at the castle, if you want some.” Rarity and Spike shared a grimace. “We’ll pass.”
