Growing Pains

by Sixes_And_Sevens

Rating: teen
Tags: Main 6, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Spike, Comedy, Other, Romance, Spa Ponies, Sex, Discord, Slice of Life
Length: 59217

Spike is only a baby dragon; only a baby after nearly two decades of life. His friends are beginning to worry if the little dragon will ever grow up at all, and begin various plans to make him mature. The Law of Unintended Consequences ensues...

Spike is only a baby dragon. Everypony in town knows that. However, Rarity has been doing some research into dragons, and she's begun to wonder how it is that Spike, nearly nineteen years old, is still stuck in the body of a toddler. Twilight shares her concerns, and along with their friends, they set out to make Spike grow up a little more. Unfortunately, nothing is ever so simple, particularly not in Ponyville, and a whole flotilla of ships sets sail on a course for total disaster.

Part of the Wibblyverse continuity.

Sex tag for misinterpreted dialogue, innuendo, repressed memories of walking in on your mother, and pretty much everything except actual descriptions.

Published 2018-03-04 20:50:07 UTC
Last updated 2018-05-10 23:23:45 UTC

Friday Morning

Lotus glanced at Aloe. “Is she still zere?”

Aloe leaned over the counter and peered through the glass doors. “Ee-yep,” she said with a nod. “She von’t stop pacing, either.” She leaned a little further. “I zink she’s beginning to dig a hole in the ground.”

Lotus shook her head. “Poor mare. I vonder vhat Sveetie Belle and her friends haf done zis time.”

Aloe giggled. “At least zey didn’t turn her mane green again,” she commented. “Zat vas some kind of dye!”

Lotus gave her sister a mild glare, but there was no heat to it. “Remember, Aloe, vhat is said in the massage room…”

“Stays in ze massage room, I know,” the pink mare laughed. “But you must admit, zat vas pretty funny…”

The blue mare fought back a grin. “Alright, ze green mane vas pretty good,” she agreed. “But not, I zink, as good as ze time zey tried to make cider?”

Aloe snickered. “I had forgotten zat,” she admitted. “Poor Epplejack. Her muscles were so tense…”

Lotus nodded. “You should haf felt her brother.”

Aloe’s grin turned to a leer. “I vill, sister. Oh, I vill…”

Lotus rolled her eyes. “Do you suppose ve should just let her in early?” she suggested, nodding at Rarity, still pacing outside.

Aloe considered. “Vait until she’s dug in about another few centimeters,” she replied. “I vant to plant some dahlias, end if she keeps it up, I von’t haf to dig.”

Lotus frowned at her grinning sister. “As often as you claim to be ze elder tvin, I might expect you to be a little more mature.”

Aloe squinted at her twin and blew a raspberry. Then, with a deft flick of the hoof, she tossed the key ring over to the other mare. “I’ll go varm up ze steam room,” she said brightly, trotting away.

Lotus sighed, but she was smiling nonetheless. Walking over to the door, she noticed that a rather alarmed Fluttershy had now joined her unicorn friend, who was talking in a highly animated fashion. The blue mare unlocked the door and peered out. “Miz Rarity? Miz Fluttershy? Vould you like to come in?”

“Oh! Yes, darling, thank you,” Rarity replied, her smile unusually wide as she trotted in. Fluttershy trailed closely behind.

Lotus quickly slipped behind the desk. “Vhat can I interest you in today?” she asked, leaning against the counter.

Rarity glanced at Fluttershy. “You choose, darling. Whatever you want.”

Fluttershy blinked, then flushed. “Oh, no, I couldn’t possibly…”

“Nonsense!” the unicorn declared. “I have no particular preference today. What would make you happy, Fluttershy dear?”

The pegasus smiled slightly. “Um. I’d like to use the hot tub today, and then maybe a massage?”

Lotus jotted that down. “Jasmine vill take you to your tub,” she said, indicating a spa worker who had just entered the room.

Rarity smiled at the silver-coated mare. “I don’t believe I’ve seen you here before, darling. Are you new?”

Jasmine nodded shyly. “It’s only my first week, miss.”

“Rarity. And this is Fluttershy. We’re what you might call regulars.”

Rarity followed the mare down the hall, chatting amiably. Fluttershy glanced at Lotus. “She’s acting a little strangely, right? It’s not just me?”

Lotus pursed her lips. “I could not say, I am sure,” she replied primly.

“Oh. Um, alright then,” Fluttershy murmured, slipping out of the room, her face burning.

Lotus watched her go, thoughtful. Rarity did seem to be oddly on edge, and yet she had allowed her friend to select the treatment for the day. Even at her best, Rarity usually took charge in that regard. Furthermore, she didn’t immediately launch into a story about what the Crusaders had done yesterday, nor embark on a rant about the Canterlot snobs who were making it all but impossible to run a boutique in the capital city of Equestria. So what was…no.

Surely not.

Was it possible—?

With Fluttershy?

The blue mare gazed at the door, deep in thought. This warranted further investigation.

***

Fluttershy let out a small sigh of pleasure as she settled herself into the hot water next to her friend. “Oh, my, this is nice,” the pegasus said, letting her wings spread gently.

“Isn’t it? Well chosen, my dear,” Rarity agreed. “The dragons have something like this, you know.”

Fluttershy swallowed. “O-oh?”

Rarity repressed a sigh. No matter how often Fluttershy saved the day, no matter how many monstrous creatures she cared for, no matter how long she cohabitated with Discord, the petite pegasus still wouldn’t be over her fear of large dragons. That was the reason she was doing what she was doing, to help a friend overcome a fear. No ulterior motives here. None. “Yes, darling,” she said casually. “Of course, they tend to use pools of lava, instead. Or do I mean magma?”

“Umm,” Fluttershy hedged.

“Doesn’t matter,” Rarity decided, waving a hoof airily. “You know, they’re terribly interesting creatures, dragons. I’ve always wanted to know more about them, haven’t you?”

“Pardon me,” Lotus said, trotting into the room with a basketful of dry towels.

Rarity smiled. “Oh, don’t worry about it, darling.” She turned back to Fluttershy. “Do you know much about dragons, dear?”

“I, um, well… I know they’re big and scary and breathe fire…”

Rarity smiled and raised a brow. “Nothing more from Ponyville’s premiere caretaker of animals?”

“Well, I know a little more,” Fluttershy allowed, “but nothing you wouldn’t already know. Like the Greed Growth, or how they can live for a really, really long time… and how they eat gems.”

“Mhm,” Rarity said, staring at her friend intently. “You know, I’ve actually been looking into dragon biology myself.”

Fluttershy blinked. “You have? That’s, um, nice. Did you… read anything interesting?”

“Oh, one or two things,” Rarity said, smiling slightly. “For instance, not all dragons breathe fire. Some actually breathe ice. Others can breathe lightning, or massive gusts of wind, or even darkness. It all depends on their hatching conditions. A very rare few, such as our own dear Spike, can actually breathe magic.”

“I—” Fluttershy’s eyes widened. “Magic? Really? I always just assumed that was more Celestia than Spike.”

“I thought the same,” Rarity agreed. “However, Twilight has said otherwise, and even gone so far as to say that he could learn other spells with enough practice… and maturity.”

The yellow pegasus stared into space. “Oh, my.”

Lotus finished putting the towels onto the shelves and quickly pushed the cart back out of the room. Rarity smiled. “It would be a cryptozoological experience not seen for hundreds of years,” she said casually. “A pity Spike doesn’t feel mature enough to try…”

The unicorn knew that this could be seen (by only the most negative, suspicious individuals) as the worst sort of manipulation. Holding Fluttershy up to a problem and hoping the pegasus’s mother-to-all-life instincts would take over… well, it was morally dubious, perhaps. Rarity, however, had long held the belief that the end tended to justify the means, or at least put them into a better light. So she smiled as she watched the yellow pegasus combine two and two and obtain four. “He doesn’t?”

Success. She could see it in Fluttershy’s gaze, at once harder and more sympathetic. She had chosen the perfect bait, as her father would have put it, and now she had one on the line. All that remained was to “reel her in,” as it were.

“No,” she said with a sad shake of the head, letting herself droop just a little bit. “No, he doesn’t. The poor dear simply lacks the self-confidence even to try.”

Fluttershy, who knew a thing or two about failing to believe in oneself, leaned forward. “That’s terrible! Is there anything we can do to help him?”

Rarity allowed herself a small smile of victory. “Well, since you ask…”

***

Aloe whistled to herself as she continued to unpack the most recent shipment of shampoos and oils. Behind her, the door swung open, and her sister walked in. “Aloe,” she said calmly. “I haf something to tell you, but you haf to promise me zat you vill not overreact.”

The pink mare looked up, her eyes wide and innocent. “Me? Overreact? Never.”

Lotus sighed. That was a good as it was going to get. “I zink Miz Rarity is in love vith Miz Fluttershy.”

Aloe said nothing. She didn’t even twitch. “...Aloe?”

The pink mare licked her lips softly. “... why do you say zat, sister?” she asked carefully.

“Vhile I vas restocking ze towels, I overheard zem talking.”

“About love?”

“About dragons.”

The pink mare frowned. “Vhich you translated as sveet nothings… how?”

“Rarity had introduced ze topic. She never does zat. Alvays, she is discussing clothes, and Fluttershy is listening. Today, not so. You saw her pacing around, vaiting for her friend. Rarity even let Fluttershy choose ze spa treatment. And ze vay she keeps staring into her eyes…”

Lotus considered this. “Alright. I haf shipped ponies on less evidence zan zis. So, now vhat?”

Aloe shrugged. “I do not know,” she admitted. “But Rarity is too reserved to tell Fluttershy of her feelings, and Fluttershy is too shy, even if she shares zose emotions.”

“So… ve must help zem!”

Aloe stared. “No.”

Lotus blinked. “But vhy not? If it is true love—”

“Hoo boy. Here ve go again,” Aloe muttered.

Lotus cut herself off, glaring at her sister. “You haf no romance in your soul.”

“I’ve got plenty of romance!” the blue mare replied, pulling back from her sister. “It’s just strictly reserved for me and whoever I vant to date. Not… shipping.”

“Hmph,” Aloe grumbled. Then, a sly smile crossed her features. “Vell zen, you haf two choices. Eizzer you help me get ze two of zem togezzer, or I do it all myself.”

Lotus flinched. Her hyperactive sister on a shipping spree? That would not bode well for Ponyville, especially if Aloe got… distracted by another young couple. “You are incorrigible. I should never haf told you about zis.”

“Is zat a ‘yes’?”

The blue mare’s shoulders slumped. She already regretted everything. “Yes. So, how do you plen on getting them togezzer?”

The smile on the pink mare’s face was genuinely disturbing. “Competition,” she purred.

***

“Good-bye, Fluttershy. Do try and stop by tomorrow after Spike goes home, and let me know how it went.”

The pegasus gave her friend a slight smile. “Oh, you can count on me, Rarity.”

The unicorn pulled her friend into a slightly damp hug. “I know I can, darling.”

The unicorn blinked. “Did you hear that?”

“Hear what?”

Rarity glanced around. “It’s the strangest thing. I thought I heard a little squeal.”

Fluttershy looked at her friend in concern. “Like an animal?”

“No, more like a pony.” A pony reading a rather saucy novel, she mentally added. “It must have been my imagination, in any case.”

The two mares trotted out into the sunshine. “Miz Fluttershy?”

The yellow pegasus stopped in her tracks. “Yes?”

Lotus stood at the desk, looking vaguely uncomfortable. “Ah, I believe you left somezing in the massage room.” She coughed nervously and touched her mane.

Rarity glanced at her friend, confused. “What in the world did you bring?”

Fluttershy turned red. “Oh… it must have been the bunny food Angel had me pick up this morning. You go on home.”

“Very well, darling. Remember, tea at my house tomorrow.”

“I’ll remember,” Fluttershy promised, raising a wing in farewell as she walked back into the spa foyer. She turned to the blue mare at the counter, extremely pink. “Um… would you…”

Silently, Lotus unclipped the pink tail extensions from where she’d hidden them in her hair. “Your secret is safe wiz me,” she whispered.

“Thank you.”

The blue mare, paused, as if debating. “Here,” she said, quickly hoofing the pegasus a card. “For being such a good customer.”

Fluttershy frowned, examining the coupon. “For a free, full-body massage… what’s a ‘happy ending’?”

Lotus’s mind raced. Damn her sister to Tartarus. “It is… milk and cookies at ze end of ze massage,” she said, a large, artificial smile plastered onto her face. “And, if you vish, a bedtime story.”

“Oh, that sounds relaxing,” Fluttershy said with a smile. “Is there one for Rarity, too?”

Lotus’s mind stalled. “Ah, she had a coupon a month ago. I meant to give you one also, but kept forgetting.” The fake smile grew larger.

“Oh. Okay! Thanks, Lotus…”

As the butter-yellow mare left, the spa mare sighed. “Stupid Aloe…”

***

Spike hummed absently to himself as he poured a little bit of pancake batter into the frying pan. It sizzled and hissed satisfyingly as it hit the hot metal. “Aw, yeah,” the little dragon murmured, grinning broadly. “Now, a few gem chips for me, some blueberries for them, a few more gem chips for me…”

“Spike?”

“Huh?” He turned away from the sizzling pan. “Oh. Hey, Starlight!”

The pink mare smiled at him uncertainly. “Uh, what are you doing up so early?”

“...Making breakfast,” Spike said slowly, raising an eyebrow.

“Well, yeah, I see that,” Starlight said, rolling her eyes. “But weren’t you up until eleven helping Twilight with her research?”

“Yep!” The little dragon beamed. “And I’m proud to say that we are one step closer to another crime against nature attacking Ponyville.”

“I… want to argue with that statement on several levels, but… Spike, when did you go to sleep last night?”

“Uhh…” he frowned. “Probably around midnight? Maybe a quarter ‘til?”

“And when did you get up to start making these pancakes?”

“Half-past six.”

Starlight stared. “Spike, you really need to get eight hours of sleep every night. You’re a growing drake, you need—”

“Ah-ah-ah!” Spike waved a claw admonishingly. “It’s my turn to make breakfast. My responsibility, my problem. Besides, I can run on way less than six and a half hours of sleep. I’ve pulled all-nighters before, I’ll pull ‘em again.”

He looked at Starlight’s expression and sighed. “If it makes you feel better, I’ll have a nap sometime this afternoon. Now, before you do something everypony is going to regret, give me the sleep spell you were going to use.”

Starlight started, cantering back in surprise as she swiftly pulled a book back into her saddlebag. “I— you— I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Spike stared. “Starlight. I can see the spellbook. It has a pillow on the front cover.”

The unicorn deflated. “...Alright…” she sighed, levitating the book over to the dragon. “It was only going to be for a little nap…”

“I know,” Spike said with a small smile. “You really had good intentions. And I do appreciate the thought, really! But, y’know, I really don’t think Twilight would want you casting spells on anypony without their permission. Or hers, really.”

Starlight winced, tucking her tail between her legs. “...Sorry.”

“We’re cool,” Spike assured her. “Just remember this next time you’re worried about somepony. Or somedragon.”

Starlight frowned. “Spike?”

“I mean, don’t get me wrong, you’re great at magic, and I know your heart’s in the right place, but you can’t go helping people without asking first. Learned that the hard way…”

“Spike?”

“Never ask Applejack about a Dragon Code of Honor, okay?”

“Spike!”

“Yeah?”

“Your pancakes are smoking!”

Spike blinked and spun around. “ARGH!” Frantically, he flipped them over, one by one. They were a bit darker than he would have preferred, but thankfully not burned. No amount of syrup could wash out the taste of burned pancakes. “Whew. Just in time. Thanks, Starlight!”

The mare smiled. “My pleasure. But after breakfast, you’re going to take a nap, one way or another. That wasn’t the only sleep spellbook in the library…”

Spike chuckled and gave a mock salute. “Yes, ma’am.”

Starlight smirked, and walked out of the kitchen. Spike was a puzzle, she thought to herself. Sometimes, he seemed wise beyond his years, and others, absurdly immature. Sometimes, he was both. It didn’t feel natural, somehow, but it couldn’t be an act. He’d kept it up far too long for that. And even if he was purposefully hiding his levels of maturity, Starlight couldn’t tell which one was the real Spike. Her smile dipped. Huh. That was… disturbing. She glanced over her shoulder at the kitchen door, still swinging closed. She would have to keep a closer eye on Spike. She didn’t much care for puzzles left unsolved…

Saturday Morning

When Rarity woke the next morning, she felt profoundly refreshed and ready to face the day. This lasted precisely nine seconds, which was precisely the same amount of time it took her to realize that during the course of the night, her bed had somehow ended up on the ceiling. She looked down at the floor and a profoundly disconcerting sense of vertigo washed over her. Rarity closed her eyes tightly and screamed. In response, her bedroom door swung open with a creak. “You… bellowed?” a lugubrious voice groaned.

Rarity peeked open one eye. In the doorway stood Discord, though they had apparently turned their body grayscale and now sported an admittedly fetching tuxedo. “I should have known,” she sighed. “Discord, I do apologize if this is an undue inconvenience, but would you mind terribly setting me back on the ground?”

“In a moment, in a moment… Tell me, Rarity, do you ascribe any particular significance to violets?”

The unicorn stared. “Violets? Er. No, not particularly, why?”

“Oh, no reason,” Discord replied brightly. “Here, let me help you down…”

They clicked their fingers. The room spun around like a child’s top, all bright colors and swirling shapes. Rarity’s head began to swim and her eyes rolled back in her head. And then it was over. “There you are, all back to normal,” Discord said triumphantly.

Rarity took in a deep breath. “It is… fortuitous that I have yet to breakfast,” she said diplomatically. “Discord, if you wish to speak with me, I would ask that you wait in the kitchen whilst I powder my nose.”

The draconequus rolled their eyes. They rolled a nine. To Rarity’s astonishment, however, they did leave her room, even closing the door behind them. She rose from her bed on hooves which were still somewhat shaky and trotted over to her boudoir. She glared at each of the mirrors in turn. “If any of you are Discord, I ask that you at least have the decency to reveal yourselves,” she hissed. None of the reflections replied, which made the mare feel somewhat foolish. She dragged a comb through her mane, followed by the application of mascara and a little bit of eye shadow. There. Now she looked presentable, not that her visitor would care in the slightest.

She trotted away from the mirrors, through the door, and out into the hallway, all the time straining to hear any sounds of chaos magic being used on her kitchen, her wares, or (Celestia forbid) her sister. None but the most ordinary of noises could be detected, however; the birds in the trees, the gentle hum and gurgle of the boiler under the stairs, Sweetie Belle’s high, ringing laughter. Well, perhaps that last one was a little suspect, but better by far than screaming.

Rarity reached the bottom of the stairs and stopped, gazing at the tableau that was taking place. Discord had apparently made toast. That toast was now gently fluttering like oversized insects, occasionally landing in pots of jam and marmalade. “Bread-and-butterflies?” Rarity guessed.

“Ding-ding-ding!” Discord crowed, pointing at the fashionista. “Ladies and gentlecolts, we have a winnah!”

Sweetie giggled as one of the creatures settled in her mane, and Rarity smiled tolerantly. “Very nice, Discord, but we do need to eat breakfast as well as admire it.”

“Well, what’s stopping you?” Discord asked, snatching a creature from the air and popping it into their mouth. “It’s not as though they’re really alive…” They caught sight of Sweetie’s horror-struck expression.

“Oh, very well.” They snapped their claws and the assorted wheat and wheat by-products folded up and settled onto the table. “Dig in.”

Sweetie stared at the piles of toast. “Rarity.”

“Yes, Sweetie?”

“Would you make me some scrambled eggs.”

“That sounds like an excellent idea.”

Discord scowled at the pair of them. With another snap of the fingers, the piles of toast disappeared. “Would you care to join us, darling?” Rarity asked innocently.

“I think not,” Discord sniffed. “I will be in the parlor.” They turned and stalked out of the room.

Sweetie turned to Rarity. “Why are they here?”

“I’m sure I don’t know,” Rarity replied. “They barged into my room, demanded to know what I thought of violets, and barged out again, and now it appears they want to talk about something else. What that might be, I’ve no idea, but I’m sure it isn’t gardening.” She paused. “Well, reasonably sure. One can never quite tell, with them.”

“Yeah,” Sweetie agreed. “Will the eggs be done soon? I’ve got big plans today.”

“The Crusaders?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Nothing too dangerous?”

“Nope.”

“Likely to cause a great deal of property damage?”

“I don’t think so.”

“Any possibility of receiving a visit from any level of government?”

“Aw, come on, that was one time!”

“The mayor came one time,” Rarity corrected. “The princesses count as well, as do Judge Libra and the mayor’s secretaries. Answer, please?”

Sweetie considered. “I doubt it,” she said at length.

Rarity rolled her eyes. “Well, it’s not as though I could stop all of you, anyway,” she sighed. “Just… try to think through your actions before they are performed, rather than after, alright?”

The younger unicorn sighed. “Yes, Rarity…”

In the little cottage at the end of Polaris Road, the oven dinged. “Dinky! Muffins are ready!” Ditzy chirped.

A little lilac head poked out from the top of the stairwell. “Just a minute, mom.”

Ditzy Doo smiled up at her daughter as the filly pulled back her head. Then, quickly, the pegasus grabbed a hot pad and pulled open the oven door. The sweet, cakey smell of pastry wafted out. She licked her lips. Banana today. Banana muffins are good.

A small, light-purple unicorn trotted into the kitchen. “Morning, mom.”

“Good morning, muffin,” Ditzy smiled. “What are you up to today?”

“Oh, y’know. Crusader stuff,” Dinky said vaguely, levitating a muffin out of the pan. “Hey, mom? Can I ask you a question?”

“You just did! But, yes.”

The filly stared into space, taking a big bite of the muffin. “How did you know when you were in love with dad?”

Ditzy nearly dropped the muffin tin. “I— wha— you—” she stopped. “Haven’t I ever told you that story?”

“No.”

“Huh…” Ditzy said, staring at nothing in particular, lost, suddenly, in the past. “Well. Your father was… Well, he was certainly a charmer. Handsome, yes, but more than that, he was kind. The first thing he said to me was that I had beautiful eyes.” She smiled wistfully.

“Was that when you fell in love?”

“Then? Oh, no. That was when I made a new friend, but we weren’t in love. We saw a lot of each other after that night. It was hard not to when we both worked in the physics department at the same university. We were, well, the oddballs of the physics labs. I had my eyes, of course, and he had dreams about being from outer space. Which he was, but I didn’t know that then. I didn’t care.”

“Uh-huh,” Dinky said. As long as she could remember, her mother had claimed that she had married an alien who’d had to return to his home planet to fight in a war. She didn’t know the real explanation for why her father had left, but it obviously couldn’t be that. “But how did you fall in love?”

“Hm… You know, I’m not sure,” Ditzy admitted. “Love usually isn’t so easy to pinpoint. I think it was more of a… steady thing.” She gazed into the distance for a long moment, then shook herself back to reality. “Why do you ask? Is there some little colt or filly I should know about?”

“What? No. No. I’m asking for a friend,” Dinky said, shaking her head.

“And just who might that be?” her mother asked, smiling innocently.

“Spike,” Dinky replied shortly.

“Oh. Okay!” Ditzy said, nodding, her grin only widening. “Well, I wish him good luck. Tell him that, won’t you?”

“I will. Bye, mom. See you later.”

“Love you, muffin! Have a great day!”

The little unicorn filly trotted out of the room. As the door swung shut behind her, Ditzy’s smile faded. She turned to a picture on the wall, faded with age and sunshine. A younger Ditzy Doo stood next to a purple unicorn in a velvet suit, an auburn mane tumbling over his brilliant blue eyes. “Oh, Pocket,” she sighed. “Come back to us soon, won’t you? I miss you…”

Rarity trotted into the parlor, where Discord had stretched out on her chaise longue and was apparently talking to themself, who was sitting on an armchair that Rarity was certain hadn’t been there yesterday. “So you see, I feel that by my very nature, I am an outcast from society. No matter what I do, I can’t both stay true to myself and be fully accepted.”

“Ai see,” said the other Discord, rapidly scribbling down notes on a small notepad with a comically oversized quill. “End tell me, Mx. Discord, how do hue feel about zis?”

“Why, with my paws, of course!” the first Discord said, ruffling up their hair for emphasis. “Please, do come in, Rarity, we were just finishing up.”

The alabaster mare cautiously trotted in. “Only if you’re sure,” she said. “I wouldn’t like to interfere with anything of a confidential nature.”

“Nein, zat vill be all for ze day. Discord. Fraulein Rarity.” The pseudo-psychiatrist rose from the chair, bowed stiffly, and exited through a cloud of smoke.

“Well, now that that pointless joke is out of the way, let’s get down to business,” Discord said, snapping his fingers. Suddenly, Rarity found herself in a corporate suit and necktie, sitting at a lengthy conference table. Discord was seated at the extreme other end.

The unicorn adjusted her tie. “Really, darling, you mustn’t be so hard on yourself. A joke you may be, but even you have a point. Likely at the tip of your horns.”

The draconequus blinked in confusion. Then, reviewing the conversation, they chuckled. “A sharp wit. I can respect that, inasmuch as I can respect anything. Which is to say, not very much at all. But I can appreciate it.”

Rarity smirked. “You came here for a reason, I presume, other than complimenting me on my sense of humor and engaging in witty banter?”

“As a matter of fact, yes. First of all, I would like to say that Fluttershy has told me of your little scheme, and I am all in.”

Rarity blinked. “Oh?” Of all the things she had anticipated, this was not among them. “Might I ask why?”

Discord smiled. “Only if I, in turn, might ask you what your motives are in all this…”

There was a long pause, fragile and breathless as a Breezie in the eye of a hurricane. “Question redacted,” Rarity said briskly. “I can count on your assistance, though? I may call on you to help with my plans?”

“Eh,” Discord waved a claw from side to side. “Depends on your definition of ‘assistance.’ And ‘call on.’ And ‘plans.’ I’m a chaos spirit, not a lapdog.”

“Of course,” Rarity sighed. “I don’t know why I expected anything else. So, to clarify, what exactly are you offering?”

“I’m willing to not actively work against you,” Discord said. “If I feel like it, I may even help you. In my own, inimitable way…”

“And… could I ask you not to help me?”

“Oh, you certainly could,” Discord said. “Whether or not I would listen…”

“Yes, quite,” Rarity sighed. “Well, welcome aboard, Discord.”

“Arr, glad ta be here, ye old scallywag,” the chimera growled, waving a cutlass around. “Shiver me timbers, ya salty dog!”

Rarity regarded the tableau stoically. “Discord. Please remove yourself from my home. I have got customers to tend to.”

“Ah, well, fine,” Discord sighed theatrically, waving a hook-hand flippantly. “Just one more thing before I go? Sort of a “I’m scratching your back, you scratch mine” thing…”

Rarity hesitated. Then her lips twisted into a slight smile. “I promise you that I won’t actively work against you…”

“Hardy-har-har. It happens that I have a friend in need of a new suit. And before you say anything else, I DO have other friends. I’ll send over the measurements and specifications this afternoon.”

Rarity hesitated. “And… when will he be able to come in for a fitting?”

“A… fitting? No, no, no, very busy individual, very busy indeed, no time to come in at all…”

The unicorn frowned, tapping a tattoo out on the floor with a back hoof. “Well, I can make a suit according to measurements, but I’m afraid that for the real “Rarity” effect, your friend will have to come in to meet me at least once…”

Discord gnawed at their lip, fully at a loss for the first time since they had entered the Boutique. “Well… if it’s really necessary…”

“It is.”

“I… I’ll work something out,” Discord said slowly. “I… thank you, Rarity. Really.”

The designer blinked. “Well… you’re welcome, of course.”

Discord nodded. “Oh, and Rarity? If you try anything…floral at tea…” He swung a cutlass at a lamp, missing it by nanometers. “I will know about it.”

“...Floral?”

But the chaos spirit had already left, leaving behind him the smell of saltwater and roses.

Rarity, blinking and bewildered, stared at the spot where he had been a moment before. “I swear, I will never understand them,” she murmured. “I wonder what this ‘friend’ of theirs will be like?”

***

Apple Bloom banged the gavel on her podium. “Order, order,” she shouted.

“Sorry, Bloom,” Sweetie said sheepishly. “Uh, one hayburger and fries, hold the pickle, and a strawberry milksha—”

The yellow filly fixed the unicorn with a flat glare. Sweetie squeaked and sank back in her seat. Bloom sighed. “So. Anypony find anything out ‘bout love?”

Dinky shrugged. “Mom said it was a sort of… slow thing. It built up over time, I guess?”

Bloom frowned. “Hrm. Well, Ah asked Granny. Uh, she had some int’restin’ stuff ta say, but Ah don’t reckon Ah oughta repeat any of it. ‘Specially not with Button in the room.”

The brown colt glanced around sheepishly. “Uh, Mom said that she didn’t like to talk behind other ponies’ backs, so she wouldn’t tell me much about Dad. She did say, er, that when you’re in love, it’s like, like, your stomach is full of butterflies whenever you try to talk to them, and when you look in their eyes, you can see that they understand and accept you completely. And then she said that you should really make sure that they’re more in love with you than they would be with anypony else. And then she ruffled my mane and kissed my nose, and said I was a good boy and I should be safe with Sweetie Belle.”

Sweetie frowned. “Safe from what?”

Button shrugged. “Dunno. Boss levels?”

“Oh… maybe! Hey, did you get that new World of Witchcraft game yet?”

Bloom banged her gavel again. “Scootaloo?” she asked.

The orange pegasus looked uncomfortable. “Aunt Holiday gave me books. Like, a lot of books.”

Apple Bloom cringed. “Ooh… yeah, Applejack gave me some books, too…”

“Oh. Okay, I was just worried I was gonna be the only one,” Scootaloo sighed. “We should probably compare titles. Uh, Holstein’s Illiad, the comedies of Spear Shaker, The Cinder Belle Effect, Allonormativy and Eros in Equestrian Society…”

The youngest Apple held up a hoof. “Uh, Ah think we got… dif’rent kinds o’ books there, Scoots.”

The orange pegasus deflated. “...Oh,”

Rumble reached a comforting wing around his friend. “I’m sure they’ll be useful,” he consoled. “As for me, Thunderlane said he knew he was in love with Flitter back when they were still just friends, ‘cause they were really close with each other. He said that they both wanted the other one to be happy, more than anything in the world, and he thought that was the purest form of love. Then Cloudchaser threw a pillow at his head and called him biased and soppy.”

Apple Bloom nodded. “Alright. Ah think we’re startin’ ta get a pretty good picture. How ‘bout you, Sweetie Belle?”

“Oh. I didn’t have time to ask Rarity,” Sweetie admitted. “Discord came over for breakfast and needed to talk to her.

Button frowned. “Discord? Why?”

Sweetie shrugged. “Dunno. Maybe they want a suit, or a dress or something.”

“But couldn’t they, like, snap them out of thin air or something?”

Sweetie paused. “I mean… yeah… but…” she frowned. “I dunno. I’ll ask her later.”

“And ask her about love?” Bloom prompted.

“Yeah, that too. I bet I already know what she’s gonna say, though.” The unicorn flipped her mane dramatically. “Dah-ling,” she began in a high-pitched, “classy” accent. “You don’t want to do something as uncouth as chasing after stallions. Rather, you must make them come to you, now if you’ll just let me fix your mane…”

Dinky snickered. “Yeah, that’s probably gonna be pretty accurate,” she agreed. “Okay, so we’ve got maybe five different ways of looking at this. That’s… probably not great. We need more data to draw from.”

Scootaloo frowned. “How are we gonna do that?”

Rumble shrugged. “We could go up and ask random ponies about it,” he said, his tone tinged with sarcasm.

The others glanced around, eyebrows raised. Rumble looked horrified. “Guys? That was a joke. I was joking. Guys? Guys!?”

***

The road to Fluttershy’s cottage was bucolic and well-lit by sunshine. Spike sighed happily as he walked along it. It was, after all, a lovely, warm day, and the warm sun felt good on his scales. Small clouds of dust kicked up behind him as he waddled along toward his destination. It really was a good day for a walk, even if he wasn’t sure why he was meant to go visit Fluttershy.

With that intrusive thought, his brow creased. Why was he supposed to go visit Fluttershy? Sure, he knew Twilight had gotten a letter asking for the loan of her number-one assistant. Sure, he knew that she had agreed and sent the little dragon on to see the yellow pegasus. Sure, he vaguely suspected that whatever they were going to do was probably going to involve animals. But why did Fluttershy ask for him specifically? What kind of skill set did he have that none of her other friends had? He racked his brains and came up blank. He wasn’t fast. He wasn’t really strong. He wasn’t that smart. About all he could do was send flame-mail messages and be a sidekick. Oh, and cook. However, unless Angel Bunny had suddenly developed a craving for sapphire pancakes or Harry the Bear had become pen friends with Celestia, Spike really wasn’t sure what Fluttershy would need his help with.

His brow relaxed and he shrugged. Best not to worry about it. He’d find out soon enough. For now, it was enough to enjoy the weather. Deep in the underbrush, where the dragon couldn’t see, a yellow pair of eyes stared out at him. Discord grinned. Oh, this was going to be fun.

Spike stared up at the red oak door. For a moment, he hesitated, his earlier doubts coming flooding back to him. Then, eyes hardening to jade, he rapped his claws against the door. It flew open before he could even knock a second time. “Oh, hello, Spike,” Fluttershy said, a broad smile on her face. “I wasn’t expecting you to be here so soon.”

The dragon frowned, raising an eyebrow. “Then you were at the door because…”

Fluttershy’s smile froze. “Um, I was… dusting. Around here. It’s very dusty in the foyer. Cough, cough?” Her smile grew broader, eyes watering slightly with the exertion.

Spike studied her for another moment. Then, he shrugged. “Okay. So, what’s up?”

Fluttershy froze for a moment, her eyes distant. Spike’s brow furrowed, and he waved a claw in front of the mare’s face. “Uh, Fluttershy? You okay?”

She blinked. “Oh, yes, sorry. Um. It’s the drugs.”

The dragon stared. “The drugs.”

Fluttershy nodded. “Painkillers,” she expounded. “You see, Spike, I hurt my wing the other day. I’m sorry, I’m being a terrible host, won’t you come in?”

Spike walked through the door, staring at his friend’s bandaged wing. “Are you going to be okay?”

“Oh, yes,” she replied hurriedly. “It’s not too terrible, but the doctor told me that I shouldn’t do too much hard work for a few days. And, of course, my animal friends need somepony to look after them… Or somedragon…”

Spike paused. “Wait. Really? Me?”

Fluttershy nodded. “Oh, yes. You’re a very hard worker, Spike, and I know that you won’t let me down.”

The dragon swelled a little at that, grinning widely. “You bet I won’t!”

Fluttershy smiled slightly at him. “There shouldn’t be anything too strenuous on the agenda for today. Here’s a list of what you’ll need to do.”

She hoofed over a short list of tasks, roughly the length of a shopping list. “I’ll make lemonade and sandwiches while you work. After you’re finished, we can have lunch.”

“Awesome. Thanks, Fluttershy!”

The butter-yellow pegasus smiled faintly back at him. The plan was working! Spike would be taking responsibility and maturing in no time. Behind her, a rabbit glanced over its shoulder. Well, almost a rabbit. Most lagomorphs didn’t possess antlers. Red irises in yellow pupils gleamed.

Late Saturday Morning

The market square was as quiet as it ever was, which wasn’t very quiet at all. Ponies milled about, chatting with friends and neighbors, buying apples from Applejack or caramels from Caramel or any of the dozens of things for sale around the agora.

Suddenly, a mare stopped in mid-sentence, ears pricked. A vast wave of silence swept across the market, slow but stifling. Head after head turned inexorably in a single direction. A faint plume of dust rose off the horizon. Conversations were abruptly cut short, coins were shoved over the counter with urgent orders to keep the change, and ponies all but streamed out of the market.

And so it was that the Cutie Mark Crusaders entered an almost-empty square, Apple Bloom dragging a sullen Rumble along by the tail. “Guys, I’m telling you, this is not going to work,” the grey colt grumbled.

“Sure it will!” Sweetie chirped. “My parents always talk about how they met in high school and fell in love! I bet you anything that we'll run into a whole bunch of ponies tripping over themselves to tell us about love!”

A cricket chirped. A very lost tumbleweed rolled across the agora. Scootaloo stifled a cough. “Yeah, I’m sure.”

Sweetie frowned. “They’re probably all arguing over who gets to talk first,” she decided after a moment’s consideration.

“Uh-huh, arguing someplace else,” Dinky said, casting an eye over the marketplace. Overturned tables and fallen canopies seemed to be the business aesthetic of modern times. “Come on. There has to be somepony around that hasn’t run away.”

The foals trotted along through empty streets, glancing this way and that for signs of life. The tumbleweed rolled back out again, still unsure of where it was, but unshakably certain that this was the right direction to pursue. In the distance, a dog barked. As the Crusaders passed the fabric stall, a single pin slipped out of position and clattered to the table. All in all, it wasn’t altogether encouraging. The barking dog grew louder and louder still. Sweetie’s ears perked up when she heard paw pads pattering over the ground, and she turned to look down a side alley. “Oh! Hi, Missus Octavia! Hi, Missus Scratch!”

A graceful grey earth pony turned her head to face the enthusiastic filly. Her unicorn companion glanced over, but quickly returned her attention to the very loud and feisty beagle at the end of the leash she held. “Knew there must be a reason the market was abandoned,” Vinyl muttered.

Octavia, meanwhile, grinned broadly at the filly. “Well, good morning, Sweetie Belle!” she called, her cultured voice carrying along the street as she abruptly changed directions to trot up the alley. The beagle quickly changed direction to follow his mistress, jerking Vinyl along behind. “How are you sweet little things doing this fine day?”

“Great, thanks!” Sweetie chirped. “How are you?”

Octavia pounded a hoof against her chest. “Fitter than a fiddle,” she said, grinning.

Vinyl smiled, or at least turned up her mouth in something vaguely resembling one. “Eh. Been better. Out all night at the club.”

“And exactly whose fault was that?” Octavia asked, lightly bumping flanks with her wife.

“Uh, yours,” Vinyl said. “Seeing as you’re the one that signed me on for back-to-back shifts.”

The classy cellist sniffed. “And I suppose it’s also my fault that your signature is so easy to copy?”

“Uh, maybe these guys aren’t the best ones to ask,” Dinky muttered.

Vinyl blinked. “Ask what?”

“We’re doing a Love Survey!” Sweetie said enthusiastically. “To figure out what makes ponies fall in love.”

Octavia lit up like a Hearth’s Warming candle. “Really? And what sort of questions are on this survey, exactly?”

There was a long moment. Sweetie glanced at Dinky, who shrugged. “I don’t wanna say ‘I told you so’…” Rumble began.

“Yes you do,” Scootaloo said.

Rumble acknowledged this with a nod of the head. Vinyl scuffed a hoof in the ground, uncomfortable. “Uh, you could ask if we… believe in love at first sight.”

The six exchanged glances among themselves. Dinky produced a quill and scroll. “Well, do you?”

“Not really,” Vinyl said.

“A bit,” Octavia said.

Vinyl looked at her wife oddly. “Really?”

“Well, not for us specifically, I mean,” the cellist expounded. “But I’ve known it to happen. Why, Harpo goes through it every month!”

“And right there, you have the reason why I don’t believe in it.”

Dinky paused. “So… is that a yes or a no?”

“One of each, I think,” Octavia said.

The unicorn frowned. “But you’re married.”

The married musicians glanced at each other, perhaps remembering that of the six Crusaders, only Sweetie Belle both a) had two parents and b) lived with them even some of the time. “Ah,” said Vinyl. “Well, yeah. But that doesn’t mean we have to agree on everything. Like, uh, country music. I can’t stand the stuff, but ‘Tavi likes it, so we keep a couple records around the house so she can listen to them while I’m not home. Or when I am home and she specifically wants to make me slam my head into a desk.”

Octavia sniffed. “Whenever have I done that?”

“Twenty-seven times at last count, and I can show you the horn-holes in the furniture to prove it.”

“Regardless,” Octavia said with a wave of her hoof. “Love does not mean that two minds fuse together into a single sapience, a self-cestuous stagnant stalemate. How tedious that would be, if I were exactly like Vinyl!" She paused. “Less tedious if she were like me, but I digress.”

“Thanks, babe,” Vinyl said drily. “Anyway. You guys are taking a ‘love survey’, so I guess you want to hear how we fell in love, right?”

“Yes, please!” Sweetie, Bloom, and Button chorused.

Scootaloo glanced at Dinky. “Sure.”

Rumble crossed his forehooves and huffed. “Fine,” he grumbled.

“Well,” Octavia began, “It all started in the club, didn’t it Vinyl? My bandmates and I were all out having a pint after a gig at the Gala. The one where Fluttershy led an army of animals and Pinkie had us all play the Pony Pokey.” She grinned. “Fantastic night, I must say, never had such a laugh at that dull party in all my chuff.

“Anyway, there I was, right in the middle of the club, listening to all the techno-synth fart music, when suddenly, it stops. They’re changing out dee-jays. Last guy steps off, Vinyl steps on. Beauty says she’s quite pretty, the others agree. I liked her mane well enough, but I’ve never fallen for a pretty face. But her music…” Octavia closed her eyes and sucked in her cheeks. “Gorgeous. Loved it. Three melodies, all winding around one another, chasing each others’ tails, it was almost hypnotic. I knew I needed to meet this mare who made the music.”

“And?” Sweetie asked, entranced. “What did you do then?”

Octavia shrugged. “I got Harpo to bet me five bits I wouldn’t sneak backstage and snog her. An’ let’s just say, by the end of the evening, I was down a smear of lipstick, but up five bits and a postal address.”

Vinyl went red. “Wha— How did you get that there? I had you kicked out of the club!”

“You need to work on hiding your fanmail better,” Octavia said, rubbing her beagle behind the ears. “Anyhow, I respected her need to take it slow, and I wrote her love letters. Love songs, actually.”

“Sheet music. You sent me sheet music,” Vinyl said, frowning. “Good sheet music, I don’t deny…”

“And she put them all together to use in a song at our wedding,” Octavia sighed, hoof to her heart.

“You skipped over literally all of the dates, meeting my parents, meeting your parents, the breakup, the makeup, and the time you got an entire symphony orchestra arrested for creating a breach of the peace because you were trying to serenade me at three in the morning,” Vinyl listed off, glaring up at the sky.

“Details,” Octavia said. “The important thing is this, kids; if you’re in love, and I mean properly in love, then you’ll do about anything to make whoever it is you’re in love with feel the same. Even if it’s illegal, phenomenally stupid, or both. Usually it’s both, in my experience.”

Vinyl facehooved. “Please don’t get arrested,” she muttered.

Scootaloo finished transcribing. “Okay, I think we’re probably good,” she said, flipping back through the pages of shorthoof she’d taken. “Thanks, Octavia! Thanks, Vinyl!”

The blue-maned unicorn smiled. “It was our pleasure, wasn’t it, Octavia?”

“Hm? Oh, yes. Certainly. And talking of love,” Octavia said, leaning in close. “I heard something rather interesting at the flower shop about our Miss Glimmer.”

Vinyl sighed. “Octy, they don’t wanna hear it.”

“Oh, Vinyl, don’t be a perpetually confused walrus,” Octavia said dismissively. “Why wouldn’t they? This might be relevant to their, their… what was it now?”

“Love survey,” Bloom said.

“That’s it,” Octavia said cheerfully. “Now, you didn’t hear this from me, right? But I heard it from Lyra, who heard it from Caramel, who heard it from Davenport, who heard it from Rarity, who heard it from Rose, who heard it from Lily, that Starlight Glimmer has got it for Spike!”

Button furrowed his brow. “Wait. So, if we didn’t hear it from you, which one did we hear it from?”

“Doesn’t matter, thanks Octavia, you’ve been very helpful,” Dinky said quickly. “Bye!” She turned, shepherding the others along in front of her.

“Hey!” Sweetie Belle said. “What’s the big deal?”

“The big deal,” Dinky growled, “is that Spike is apparently seeing Starlight Glimmer and Applejack.”

Bloom frowned. “Hey, yeah! That dang dragon’s two-timin’ mah sis!”

“Well, we can’t be completely sure of that,” Scootaloo said. “It’s entirely possible that the three of them are developing an agéli, a herd. It was actually a pretty common practice in a lot of early civilizations, not just pegasi ones.”

There was a long moment where everypony present stared at the orange filly. “What? My house is literally full of Pegasopolitan history books! Eventually, you just start absorbing it!”

“I suppose that a polyamorous relationship isn’t completely out of the question,” Dinky conceded.

Button blinked. “I have no idea what either of you just said.”

“It’s like a relationship, but with more than two ponies in it,” Rumble explained.

Button brightened. “Oh, that! Mom tried that a couple of times, but it didn’t really work out. Which is kind of too bad. Having three moms was great, except whenever I wanted to do anything I got stuck in this infinite loop of “go ask your mother”.”

“Well, I don’t like it,” Apple Bloom said. “He oughta have ta choose one or th’ other.”

“I don’t know, Apple Bloom,” Sweetie said. “I’m really starting to think that this might not be any of our business.”

“Like hay it ain’t!” Bloom said, puffing herself up. “This is mah sister we’re talkin’ about! Ah’m worried about her safety an’ all.”

Dinky shook her head. “Well, regardless, this does throw a spanner into our plans,” she said. “The relationship dynamic is much different than any of us anticipated. We’ll have to work Starlight into this scheme to make sure that all of them reveal their relationship at the same time.”

“Uh-huh, sure,” Bloom said, still brooding. He’s gonna have ta choose, she thought darkly. One way or another…

***

Spike leaned back against the fence, setting the feed bucket at his side, and wiped his brow. “I never realized how much Fluttershy actually has to do for all her animals,” he muttered.

He felt something warm and velvety rub up against him. He smiled and patted the little rabbit on the head. “But I guess I can see why she does,” he chuckled, pulling out the checklist. “Alright, let’s see. I just finished feeding the chickens… check! Nice, I’m almost done. Next, I need to… feed the otters their fish.” He glanced around. Beside him, the rabbit gazed at the checklist in the dragon’s hand and snapped its toe beans. The bottom of the paper shimmered slightly, then creased. As Spike moved on to look for a bucket of fish, the rabbit hopped back into the bushes. All that could be seen were its little red-irised eyes. It glanced to the side. “Get your popcorn ready, folks. This is gonna be good.”

***

Chore 14: Feed the Otters their Fish.

Spike held the bucket as far away from his face as possible with one claw and held his nose with the other. As soon as he reached the spot on the bank where a raft of otters waited, he kicked the bucket into the river, letting fish guts spill everywhere. “Enjoy your meal, guys,” he said, still holding his nose as the otters leapt into the river one by one. “Better you than me.”

He pulled out the checklist again and frowned. “Huh. I thought there was one more… oh, it folded up.” He straightened out the list and his eyes bulged. It had nearly doubled in length!

“Well, fine then,” he said, stuffing the list back in his pocket. “If Fluttershy can do this every day before lunch, I can, too.”

He failed to notice the faint giggling coming from the reeds, where a pair of red eyes peered out.

***

Chore 17: Fix any Bird Nests which have Fallen from the Trees.

Spike chewed at his upper lip as he sat cross-legged under the weeping willow. “Okay… under, over, under, over,” he muttered, weaving a wickerwork web of twine and twigs. It formed a shape not unlike a pizza with a slice removed.

“Now, if I just tug up on here…” the web popped into a bowl-like shape, and the dragon sighed, satisfied. He tied off the last ends so that it wouldn’t come undone again, then turned to his watching audience. “Did you all get that?” he asked.

A chorus of tweets, chirps, and coos answered him, and Spike smiled encouragingly. “Great. Now let’s see you all try it!”

A few minutes later, the drake was smiling, arms crossed, as he watched each and every one of Fluttershy’s birds making wickerwork nests. That smile faded when a robin fluttered up next to his face and let out an aggravated cheep. “Uh, no, sorry, I wouldn’t know anything about adding a patio,” Spike admitted.

The robin cheeped again. “Why would a bird even want a balcony? Your house is already a balcony!”

***

Chore 22: Check the Beaver Dam for Health Code Violations.

Spike landed with a splash in the brook, and his notebook followed close behind. He pulled himself up on all fours and shouted, “I don’t care about the architectural style, you need a sprinkler system! Your home is literally made of rotten sticks, it’s a major fire hazard!”

The colony of beavers chittered angrily and shook their paws at him before diving back into the water to head into their home. “Hey. HEY! Get a second entrance in there before next week, or I’ll be back with a demolition note from the mayor!”

***

Chore 27: Give the Monkey a Shower.

“I don’t care if you are rewriting Hamlet, you smell like a zoo. How long has it been since you slept? That long? Okay, shower first, then it’s bedtime for you, Bonzo."

***

Chore 32: Give Discord a Foot Rub.

“And Fluttershy does this every day,” Spike said suspiciously.

“Oh, yes,” Discord said with a nod. “Sometimes even more than once.” They sat back and sipped on their snozzberry smoothie. “Hm. I’m not sure how I feel about you as a replacement, to be honest. Here, try this.”

There was a snap and a flash, and the next thing Spike saw was a wave of strawberry pink mane in front of his face. He glanced down and felt a rush of both vertigo and nausea. Ruffles of butter-yellow fur and a pair of hooves faced him. “Discord,” he growled— attempted to growl, at least. Fluttershy’s voice did not lend itself well to such things. “Turn me back. Now.” He squirmed. “This is really, really uncomfortable.”

“Oh, go on,” Discord wheedled. “Just until after the massage?”

“Not a chance. I am really not digging being a mare. Anyway, I can do a better job with hands than with hooves.”

The draconequus rolled their eyes. “Fine,” they grumbled, snapping their fingers. “But you’d better do a good job.”

“Please,” Spike snorted. “I am a profession— oh YUCK! How do you get them that smelly? You don’t even need to walk anywhere!”

“Well, I like to,” Discord retorted. “Now, get rubbing, Mr. Professional.”

Spike grimaced. The draconequus sighed, and snapped up a gas mask. “Fussy, fussy,” they grumbled.

***

Chore 42: Serve Lunch to Harry the Bear.

Spike walked into the bear’s den and immediately felt underdressed. Harry was sitting patiently at a table, wearing a tuxedo. Violin music played gently in the background. The bear was holding a menu, for pity’s sake!

The dragon glanced around and quickly grabbed a white towel from off the wall before trotting up to the bear. “Good morning, sir,” he said. “Have you decided on a meal, or shall I fetch some water while you peruse our menu?”

The bear pointed at the menu, and Spike craned his neck to look. “Ah, of course, les larves avec du baies select. A fine choice indeed. May I take your menu?”

The bear inclined his head, offering the sheet to the small drake, who took it with grace. He then turned and walked into the adjoining cavern, picked up a covered silver platter and returned to the table. “Bon appetit,” he said, lifting the lid to reveal an assortment of berries and grubs.

The bear selected a fork and knife and began to daintily eat his meal. Spike walked out of the cave, shaking his head. “Fluttershy definitely spoils these guys,” he sighed. “Still, at least I’m done now.” He checked off the last box on the list. Then, he noticed something odd. There was a little arrow at the bottom of the page. He turned the sheet over and groaned, slumping back against a nearby tree. The list written on the back stared up at him, the paper fluttering in the breeze.

***

Fluttershy looked out at the backyard again, brow creased and mouth tight. “He should be done by now, shouldn’t he?” she asked, glancing at Discord.

The draconequus shrugged, a complicated motion considering that their right paw was on the kitchen table, while their left claw lounged on the couch. “Who can say? He is, after all, only a baby dragon.”

If anything, Fluttershy looked even more worried. “Yes, and I sent him out to do my morning routine while I lounge around in here.”

Discord blinked. “Flutterbutt, you’ve cleaned your cottage from bottom to top, made half a dozen bird houses, and helped repair all the spiderwebs you accidentally broke while sweeping. It isn’t as though you’ve abandoned your duties (much though I’d like it) to actually, chaos forbid, relax.”

“But I have,” Fluttershy said, pacing the floor. “I’ve left almost all of my animal friends outside, and I’ve hardly even spoken to most of them all day.”

“So what?” Discord said, their wings flapping from their positions in the rafters. “They’ll survive without you for one morning. I’ve certainly done it often enough.”

Fluttershy smiled. “But you don’t need me to watch you, Dizzy.”

“Don’t I just?” Discord muttered.

The pegasus frowned. “I’m sorry, I couldn’t hear you,” she said, leaning closer to the wall against which Discord’s head was leaned.

“I said, you need to pull yourself together,” Discord said, doing just that. “If Spike is going to think he’s some kind of great big powerful future Dragonlord or whatever, he can’t have you fussing over him as soon as he walks in the door.”

Fluttershy smiled up at the chaos spirit. “I suppose you have a point. I’ll do my best to stay reserved and impersonal,” she said, a note of determination in her voice.

“That’s the spirit,” Discord said. They perked up an ear. “And speak of the devil, here he comes now.”

The door swung open and Fluttershy turned around. “Oh, Spike, are you— DEAR SWEET CHAOS, WHAT’S HAPPENED TO YOU?”

Discord grinned. “That’s my pony.” Then they turned around to look at Spike, too. They winced.

The dragon looked like he’d fallen into the sewer, and he didn’t smell much better. “S-sorry,” he rasped, holding up a sheet. “Didn’t finish. So… hungry…”

Fluttershy rushed over. “Oh, Spike, how much did you do?”

Instead of answering, the dragon held up a muddy, stained checklist. Fluttershy scanned it and her eyes went wide. She glared at Discord for a moment. “Don’t. Move,” she mouthed, her eyes slits.

Then she turned back to Spike, all smiles and sympathy. “Oh, my, Spike, it looks like I accidentally gave you my to-do list for all week. I only wanted you to go up to number fifteen, not…” she checked the list again. “Seventy-nine?” she squeaked. “Oh, my! And you did all of that before lunch? That, that’s incredible! I don’t think anypony’s ever done all these chores as quickly as you have!”

Spike managed a smile. “Did… good?” he slurred.

“Very,” Fluttershy said, tapping him on the nose. “Go up and have a nice warm bath and get all that gunk off. I’ll be down here, fixing you an extra-special lunch.”

Spike grinned vaguely, then stumbled off to the bathroom. Fluttershy stared after him, smiling gently. The second he was upstairs, though, she whipped around, her eyes red with fury. “Discord!” she snarled. “I can’t believe you would do something like that!”

They raised a brow. “Really? Not even a little bit? Because this seems pretty in-character for me, honestly.”

“What did you make him do?” Fluttershy demanded, glowering at the list. “Sprinkle black bear urine around the perimeter? Collect anal musk from civet cat, oh DISCORD!” Her eyes went wide. “Give Discord a FOOT RUB?” she shouted, throwing down the list in fury.

Discord glanced at the paper, slightly concerned. “Perhaps I went a tad far…” they admitted.

Fluttershy began to Stare at the draconequus. “A tad far?” she demanded. “A tad—”

Then she stopped. Closed her eyes. “A tad far,” she said neutrally. It was as though all the energy had left her. “Yes. You did.” She opened her eyes again. The red was gone from them, leaving only a placid lake-blue. “Discord, I need you to leave now,” she said calmly.

They opened their mouth to object, but the words stuck in their throat. “Okay,” they said. “When can I come back?”

Fluttershy shook her head. “I don’t know, Discord,” she said. “I really don’t.”

“Oh,” said Discord.

“I see,” said Discord.

They slunk out the back door into the garden. They could still feel Fluttershy’s sad blue gaze on their back. They set their jaw. “I can see I’ll need to speed up my plans.”

They snapped their fingers and a number of things happened at once. Firstly, Discord vanished.

Secondly, the letter R which had been signed on the note which had arrived with the violets wiggled and shifted into an E.

Thirdly, a chocolate-brown being with yellow spots and a deep red mane appeared outside Carousel Boutique. The form seemed to flicker for a moment, shape fluctuating, wings and horn flickering in and out of existence. At last, it seemed to settle in as a gorgeous and slender peryton doe with rich flecks of blue and violet in her red feathers.

The final thing that happened was the sudden appearance of a pair of sunglasses on the doe’s nose, efficiently hiding her yellow-red eyes from view. She twitched her nose once, then knocked firmly on the door. “‘Ello?” she shouted, a thick accent from somewhere in the vicinity of Trottingham modifying her voice. “Oi'm Eris! Me friend Disc’rd sent Oi ter get a suit fittin’? Oi’m in a right Bob Murray, Oi got a blind date tomorrer!”

Author's Note

Some things you should know: One, I've never been one for the usual fanon portrait of Octavia as a reserved and uptight pony, nor of Vinyl as a wild party pony. I much prefer the dynamic the other way around, if only for the sheer joy of subverting expectations.

Two, 'Bob Murray' means 'hurry' in Cockney rhyming slang. I'm not sure whether or not I ought to keep up this little conceit every time 'Eris' speaks, as on the one hand it adds a little realism to her accent, but on the other, it can be really very annoying to a reader.

Three, I'm going to have to slow down a little bit on the chapters. Between this and my other stories, I'm just a tad overwrought. Sorry about that. Expect perhaps a total of two chapters a week for the present.

Saturday Afternoon

Aloe was quiet. Lotus had learned from experience that this was not a good thing. A quiet Aloe was usually a thinking Aloe, and though the blue mare usually wished that her sister would learn to be a little more considering, she had long since learned that her sister’s ponderings usually lead only to far greater complications. As she picked up her rose-hip sandwich, Lotus took a deep breath and let it out in a massive sigh before taking a bite of her lunch.

“You need to go on a date viz Flootershy,” Aloe said abruptly.

Rose-hips rained across the table as Lotus hacked and wheezed. Aloe smacked her sister roundly on the back once or twice. “Wh- why,” the blue mare gasped. “Why vould I do somethink as, as stoopid as zat?”

“To make Miz Rarity jealouz, of course,” the pink mare replied matter-of-factly. “She vill confront you and confess her love for Flootershy in public. Obviously.”

“Absolutely not,” Lotus said firmly. “Anyvay, she vould not go viz me.”

Aloe tutted. “You zink too little of yourself. I can get any stallion I wish. You look like me. Zerefore, you can get any mare you desire.”

“I vaz talking about ze violets you sent her. Signed ‘R’? She vould not date me for fear of hurting her mysterious admirer.”

“Hm. Zere, you haf me,” Aloe admitted, sinking back into sullen silence.

Lotus stared at her for another moment, then shook her head and took a sip of tea. “You should go on a date viz Miz Rarity.”

Cue spit take, cue tea-spattered table, cue gasping, gagging masseuse. “Aloe!”

“It will inspire in her feelings of great shock and envy!”

“She doesn’t know it vaz Rarity who sent ze violets!”

“Who else vould sign “R”?”

Lotus gestured expansively. “Miz Rainbow Dash? Miz Roseluck from ze flower shop? Zome ozzer pony from her childhood maybe who has a name beginning viz “R”?”

“Roseluck iz straight, Flootershy haz not mentioned any childhood friends save for Rainbow Dash, and Dash vould not send flowers,” Aloe argued. “Eny ozzer objections?”

“Yes!” Lotus said, throwing her sandwich to the table. “I do not wish to go! I do not vish to date Rarity or Flootershy! I vish to run zis spa vell ent in good order! I vish to go home and sleep! I vish zat I never had told you of zis at all!”

Aloe’s eyes went very soft and warm. “Oh, sister,” she said, sadly. “I vorry about you so…”

“Aloe, do not do zis! Do not do ze soft puppy eyes! I vill not give in!”

“All alone, alvays vorking, never taking time for herself…”

“I haf a massage every week, sister,” Lotus replied. “Look, I haf closed my eyes, zho zat I cannot see your soft puppy eyes. You may as vell give in.”

“I know zat you are zho lonely, Lotus,” Aloe wheedled, rubbing her sister’s back.

Lotus’ mouth drew into a line. She could hear the soft puppy eyes. “Ent if all goes to plen, zis vill not change after ze date,” she said firmly. “Ze good ship Flarity vill sail, and Lotus vill stand in ze harbor.”

“Good ship Rarishy,” Aloe corrected. “Vell, zis may be. It may also be zat ze ship is sunk in ze harbor, ent a certain unicorn leaps bodily into ze safety of your hooves. Eizzer vay, you vill be out of ze house, in a restaurant, entertaining a pretty mare for ze evening. Zis iz vhat you may call a vin-vin situation.”

Lotus opened her eyes to glare balefully. Aloe returned the gaze with a small, cool smile. “You haff made ze rezervations already.”

“Yes.”

“Dress picked out.”

“M-hm!”

“Possibly a corsage.”

“Yeh!”

The blue mare let out a long, drawn out sigh. “Vhere ent vhen,” she said, toneless.

Aloe beamed. “In town, at ze new Neighpolese ristorante,” she said. “I got you rezervations for Sunday at five.”

Lotus’ brow cinched. “Zat iz… over an hour before ze spa closes for ze day,” she said, confused.

The pink mare waved the remark off. “Vhat good is being ze boss if you cannot take a little time off for a date? Ve vill not crumble if you take two hours off. You vill leave at four, get dressed, and have a nice evening. Getting drunk is not required, but is recommended. Staying ze night at ze Boutique, likevise.”

“Aloe!”

“Oh, look at ze time, must get back to ze desk, enjoy your lunch, sister!”

Aloe all but galloped from the room. Lotus glowered after her for a long moment, but her expression softened when she brought to mind Rarity’s face. She was intelligent, cultured, generous, nice, and quite gorgeous. Perhaps a date wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world. Perhaps it wouldn’t end in disaster. Perhaps she wouldn’t return to the spa only to see it being evacuated by fireponies. Perhaps she could go outside and find a pink elephant that danced ballet.

She bit into her lunch with vigor, but all the taste had gone out of it.

***

Rarity cast a quick eye over her newest client once more. When Discord had mentioned that a friend of theirs would be coming for a suit fitting, she hadn’t been expecting their custom so soon. Nor, she had to admit, was she expecting anything in the neighborhood of a peryton. She felt mildly awed by her guest’s presence. Her name was Eris. She was tall and slender, with gorgeous wings and elegant movements. The light shimmered off her red-violet-blue wings, an illusion of shimmering twilight. She was, put simply, quite attractive.

Rarity tended to prefer male company, but she was fully capable of being attracted to all genders, and the longer she gazed at the alluring figure, the more she wished that the blind date upon which the doe had been set was with the seamstress herself.

Unfortunately, this held true only so long as Eris kept her mouth shut. Really, Rarity had never imagined she would ever come across an accent quite so grating as her mother’s mayonnaise-thick Manesotta drawl — though her Aunt Shaker’s Neigh Jersey whine gave it a run for its money.

It wasn't as if Trottingham accents were as bad as all that. Rarity had encountered more than a few delightful voices in that region, such as that charming young piebald friend of Sweetie’s. It was just this particular voice, so rough and coarse, that wore on her nerves. The endless stream of nonsense she seemed to peddle didn’t help matters. Eris cleared her throat, and Rarity’s hackles rose instinctively. “So,” she quickly interrupted. “Do you know the name of this blind date of yours? If it’s somepony in town, I might be able to throw in a little free advice.”

“Bin wif a lot of the Fakes ‘round ‘ere?” Eris asked, chuckling.

“I beg your pardon?”

“Fakes ‘n’ Phonies. Y’know. Ponies.”

Rarity let out a huff. “Well, I wouldn’t say that! However, I have been on a few dates, and I do rather know the lowdown about much of the village.”

“Oh, right,” Eris said with a nod. “Well, it’s wif a bird.”

That caused Rarity pause. “Does that mean… pegasus?”

“Nah, a bird is a dame. A mare. Though, she is a sad viking.”

“What?”

“Sad viking? Cryin’ Norse? A flyin’ horse, a pegasus, like ee said.”

“I see. Well, darling? A name?”

“Oh, ar,” Eris said, glancing away nervously. “Er, it’s… Fluttershy, that were it.”

Rarity dropped her measuring tape. “Fluttershy?” she asked, incredulous. “Are you quite sure, darling?”

“There summ’t wrong wif ‘er?” Eris asked, a note of anger in her voice.

“Wrong with? Hardly. Fluttershy is a dear friend, among the sweetest of ponies, and the absolute pinnacle of kindness and beauty.” Rarity turned around and raised the tape measure again, wrapping it around the peryton’s barrel. “She’s also incredibly shy.

“I’m glad to see her getting out of her shell, don’t misunderstand me,” Rarity continued, jotting down notes on Eris’s measurements. “Wings up, please. It’s surprising, that’s all.”

“Huh.” Eris glanced over her withers. “That’s silver, then. Okay, what’s your pair of mice?”

Rarity ran over the sentence in her head. Tartarus if she could guess what ‘silver’ meant, but she suspected the doe was asking her advice. “She’s extremely sensitive, so avoid being too forward. However, you must be forward enough to begin a conversation, or you’ll be stuck there all evening sitting in stony silence. Loud noises must be avoided, and I wouldn’t mention delicate topics, either. If you have a pet, or some particular interest in nature, that would be an ideal topic of conversation. Fashion would also be most acceptable. Under no circumstances should you harm an animal. If you step on a beetle, she would be inconsolable.

“She may attempt to pay for the entire date. If you allow this, I will hunt you down like an animal. She has little enough spare funds as it is. If you insist on paying for half, she will likely find confrontation sufficiently disagreeable as to avoid argument, though I don’t expect you to push on paying for it all. She wouldn’t stand for it, or if she did, she would spend all the next day worrying about the strain she’d put on you. I do think that rather covers most of the bases. So, where are you taking her?”

Eris’s jaw flapped silently. Rarity couldn’t see the doe’s eyes behind her sunglasses, but from the movement of her eyebrows, it was clear that they had gone wide. “Oh, dear,” Rarity sighed. “Well, let me think up a few options for you. There’s the local bistro, of course, but that’s rather overdone.”

“Wouldn’t do to be unmemorable,” Eris agreed.

“I don’t believe the Stick and Carrot can provide the requisite ambience, and Sugarcube Corner is right out.” Rarity hummed as she stuck a few pins in the cloth. “Oh! But there is that new restaurant that opened on the far side of town, what was the name? Grazie, that was it. Neightalian food, you see, very romantic.”

“Oh, ar?” Eris nodded thoughtfully. “Oi’ll sling a butcher’s at it.”

“Sling a what now?” Rarity asked, startled.

Eris huffed. “A look. Oi’ll take a look, Miz U-Standard.”

Rarity frowned and made a few marks with a stick of chalk. “Well, that should be sufficient for now,” she allowed, removing several pins. “Your date, you said, was tomorrow? I should look into reservations at once, were I you. Meet me back here at two in the afternoon for your final fitting.”

“Ri’. Ta much.” Eris stood perfectly poised as the fabric flew off her and landed in a folded pile on the table. “‘Ere! Do she like flowers?” Only Oi thought Oi’d getter some violets.”

Rarity’s eyes narrowed imperceptibly. “You know, you’re the second to ask me about those particular flowers today. What exactly is so important about violets?”

“Ah, never you mind,” Eris said with a wave of her hoof.

Rarity shrugged. “Very well. I would suggest buttercups over violets, however. They keep better, and they have longer stems, so they’ll look nicer in a vase.”

“Ar,” Eris said, rubbing her chin. “Buttercups, eh? Aye, aye…” she left the shop, nodding to herself.

Rarity watched her go. A beautiful, graceful body, fitted with the most uncouth sort of mind. A dreadful shame; the doe was terribly attractive. Why did all the pretty ones have to be such unutterable boors? She turned back to the fabric. The customer had elected to take a bright, spring-green piece of silk. It was uncomfortable to look at, and Rarity had been surprised to even find it in her stock. Yet, she couldn’t find it in herself to talk the doe out of the fabric. It suited her, as simple as that. The boldness, the unexpected vulgarity in a beautiful piece, the contrast to her coat that should, by rights, have been an absolute eyesore but somehow worked…

“Well,” Rarity murmured. “What did I expect of a friend of Discord’s?” She levitated over a pair of shears and began to slice along the measurements she’d marked.

***

Spike loped down the road back to Ponyville proper, smelling and looking marginally less terrible than he had earlier. Fluttershy had, as promised, fixed him up a bowl of tomato soup, which she’d garnished with turquoise. Not a high-quality gem, but a tasty one, nonetheless.

Still, he was exhausted. He stumbled along on aching feet, tail swishing arrhythmically from side to side like a broken metronome just so he could keep his balance. He could see the outskirts of town straight ahead. He allowed his feet to carry him along, independent of his brain, which had long since gone into standby mode. Thus, it took a little while for the fact that his name was being shouted to seep into the foamy malaise of his work-addled brain.

He stopped. Turned slowly, painfully towards whoever was calling him. Squinted. “Starlight?”

The unicorn cantered closer. “There you are! I’ve been looking everywhere for you!” She paused. “Geez, you look dead on your feet.”

Spike let out a flat chuckle. “Yeah, about that.”

There was a long silence. “Want me to walk with you?”

Spike frowned. He had expected her to offer a ride. Still, somepony to lean upon was an improvement over what he had. “Sure,” he said, falling back into the gently flailing non-rhythm of walking. “Why were you looking for me?”

She hesitated for a moment, as though thinking. “It’s lunchtime,” she said, far too decidedly for Spike to believe she was telling the truth. However, he was too tired to care.

“Thanks, but I ate at Fluttershy’s already.”

“Oh.” She was silent. “Get enough to eat?”

“Yeah.”

“You sure? You’re a growing drake.”

Spike rolled his tired eyes good-naturedly. “Yeah, sure. Nearly a whole millimeter this month alone.”

“Really?”

Tired or not, Spike could hardly fail to notice the excitement in her voice. “Uh, no. That was sarcasm. Why, does it matter?”

There was a lengthy moment. “I just… couldn’t help noticing that you aren’t growing,” Starlight replied. “Why is that? Do dragons mature at a slower rate than ponies?”

“Dragons…” Spike racked his brains. How had Ember put it to him? “Dragons grow at our own pace,” he said at length. “Might stay the same size for years, then grow two meters in a month.”

“Really?” Starlight sounded interested. “What determines the speed?”

The dragon does. It’s a matter of how they perceive themselves. A very self-important dragon might only be able to sleep on top of a mountain. Dragonlords had been known to grow larger than mountains themselves. It’s a complex, unconscious calculation, converting worthiness into muscle and hubris into height. Ember had grown like a weed since taking the Bloodstone Scepter, and now had to duck when walking through any doors outside the Dragonlands. She had written to inform Spike that Garble had shrunk almost to the size of a pony. All of this and more ran through Spike’s weary head.

“Hormones, I guess?”

“Huh.” A pause. Spike steeled himself for the follow-up. “So, are you just a late bloomer, or…”

“Something like that,” Spike agreed. He frowned, registering the road they were on. “This isn’t the way to Carousel Boutique.”

“No? We’re going home, remember? You’re dead on your feet. You need sleep.

Spike shook his head. “I promised Rarity I’d dig gems with her today,” he insisted.

“You can’t do that if you’re too tired to raise your hands.”

Spike threw up his claws, half in protest, half in exasperation. “I promised her!” he repeated. “I can’t just break a promise like that!”

“Spike, not even Pinkie Pie would hold you to that promise in this condition!” Starlight snapped. “Why is this so important to you? Why do you work yourself to the bone like this?”

They stood in silence for a long moment. “They’re my friends,” Spike said simply.

“They’re my friends, too, but you don’t see me running myself ragged like this,” Starlight retorted.

“I need to make them happy.”

“You’ll make them miserable if they think they’re working you like some kind of slave!”

“Because I want to!” Spike exploded. “Because it’s good! Because it makes me feel good! Because Twilight always tucked me in and read me a story when I was six! Because Fluttershy makes good soup! Because Rarity--” he broke off.

“Because Rarity…” Starlight prompted after a moment.

He took a deep breath. “Because she’s great,” he said. “She’s the one who stopped me when I turned into a giant greed monster and curb-stomped Ponyville, just by reminding me how good generosity feels. Generosity, it doesn’t come easily to either of us. We’ve always gotta fight the greed back. We’ve got the same struggles, and I guess I feel like that connects us. That’s why she’s so important to me. That’s why I’ve got to keep my promise to her.”

Starlight’s silence hung over them both like a pall. “Fine. I’ll walk you there. Then, if Rarity wants you to help her, I’ll allow it. If not, I’m taking you home and finding another book of sleep spells.”

“Fair.”

They turned at the next street and trotted along in silence. “You aren’t going to offer me a ride?” Spike asked after a long moment.

“If you’re going out to dig for gems, you can walk on your own,” Starlight said brusquely.

“Right.”

Neither of them said anything more until they reached the Boutique. Starlight rang the backdoor bell. “Just a moment!” Rarity sang.

A few seconds passed before they heard the doorknob click. “Goodness, but you’re early today, Fluttershy! I wasn’t expecting you for another half-hour…” She trailed off in the face of Starlight’s flat expression. “Hello, darling. What can I do for you today?”

“I’m here to give you Spike,” Starlight replied. “Apparently, he promised you help digging today.”

Rarity put a hoof to her mouth. “Good grief, was that today? I’m terribly sorry, darling, I didn’t think of it when I was making plans with Fluttershy.” She looked at Spike and blanched. “Darling, you look a mess! You shouldn’t even be thinking about more work in this state!”

“I tried to tell him,” Starlight said, scowling. “Right. We’re going back to the castle, and you are taking a nap.”

“Back to the castle? Oh, Starlight, there’s no need for that. He can borrow my bed for the afternoon.” She paused and gave the drake a once-over. “You have had a bath, haven’t you?”

He gave a short drop of the head. “Yeah. Thanks, Rarity.”

“Not at all, darling. Go on up, you know the way.”

Spike stumbled through the kitchen and into the stairwell. The two mares watched him go. “Poor dear,” Rarity murmured. “I shall have to tell Fluttershy that she’s working him too hard.”

“Yes. And why exactly are you having tea with Fluttershy instead of digging for gems, today?”

“I don’t go digging every day, darling. When I heard that misfortune had befallen the poor dear, I felt it my duty to comfort her.”

“Without thinking to tell Spike.”

“An unfortunate oversight, yes.” Rarity gave Starlight a sidelong squint. “Is there a point that you’re driving towards, darling?”

“I tried to get him to go back to the castle with me, but he wouldn’t hear of breaking his promise to you,” Starlight said. “He’s devoted to you, Rarity. You know that, right?”

Rarity’s gaze flicked briefly to the stairs. “Yes. Yes, Starlight, I do.”

“Just keep that in mind. Bye, Rarity.” Starlight tramped out the door, slamming it rather hard behind her. She winced at the noise, and Caramel, Rarity’s next-door neighbor, jumped. When he saw who it was, he relaxed slightly. “Afternoon, Miss Glimmer,” he called, not setting down the watering can he held over his bed of tomatoes. “Congratulations.”

Starlight blinked at him vaguely. “Uh, thanks,” she said. “You too.” She trotted away without waiting for a reply.

***

Some fifteen minutes later, Fluttershy waited at the very same door. It had been five minutes since she had first knocked, and there had been no reply. She tried again, a little louder. This time, it was almost audible, as though a feather had struck the door rather than a speck of dust. “Fluttershy? Is that you?”

The door swung open, revealing Rarity sitting at the table with a steaming pot of tea. She smiled and waved her guest in. “Now, darling, be careful to keep quiet,” she murmured. “Spike is asleep up in the cupola, and it wouldn’t do to wake the poor dear.”

“Oh. Of course.”

“On second thoughts, perhaps your normal voice will do,” Rarity said. “How did it go, do you think?”

Fluttershy frowned. “Not very well,” she sighed. “Discord more than tripled his workload, and gave him all the jobs I usually do in a month. Spike was too exhausted to finish all of them, and though I’m sure he did a very good job, I simply couldn’t let him go on.”

“He probably would have,” Rarity sighed. “One lump or two, today? Yes, he’s certainly very noble. The poor boy simply doesn’t know when he ought to stop. He came here with Starlight because I asked for his help digging today, and I completely forgot, would you believe it? He could barely stand on his two poor little feet, so I sent him straight up to nap in my room.”

“Gosh,” Fluttershy said. “Um, two lumps today, I think. I hope he’ll be alright.”

Rarity nodded. “And what of Discord? What did you tell them?”

Fluttershy’s eyes hardened. “I informed them that they were to leave my house and not come back until they were sorry. Properly sorry, I mean.”

Rarity tsk-ed. “Dear, dear. Well, I suppose that tomorrow night will prove a relief from that little drama, at any rate.”

“What do you mean?”

“Your blind date, darling. With Eris. Discord’s friend? Peryton doe? I’m making her a suit? I must say, I never thought of you as such a mare.”

“You mean dating other mares? Er, does?”

“Frankly, I mean dating full-stop.” Rarity sipped her tea. “You never expressed any interest as far as I know…”

“Er. I’m, um. Not.” Fluttershy rubbed her head. “This is the first I’d heard about it.”

Rarity blinked. “I-- you-- oh--” she scowled. “I see.”

Fluttershy hesitated. “... Do you?”

Rarity nodded once, sharply. “It’s Discord’s doing. They came in this morning to offer their aid in exchange for a free fitting for a friend. That friend was Eris. Clearly, Discord must have set the two of you up, then forgotten to tell you.”

Fluttershy nibbled a biscuit thoughtfully. It did make a certain amount of sense. “So… what do I do?”

“Up to you, darling,” Rarity replied with a shrug.

Fluttershy considered this. “It might be nice,” she admitted. “And if you’re already making her a suit, I suppose I wouldn’t like to put you to all that trouble for nothing…”

“Excellent, excellent. Now, other than Discord’s misguided ‘assistance,’ did the plan work?”

“I think it’s too soon to tell, Rarity. Growth doesn’t happen that quickly.”

“Nonsense, you remember his birthday.”

Fluttershy raised a brow. “And you remember how that worked out? And what happened afterwards?”

Rarity frowned as she recalled those two Spike-less weeks. He had locked himself in the library, thrown himself into his labors, and avoided any contact with anypony save Twilight. “I take your point,” she agreed soberly, before lapsing into silence.

Fluttershy fidgeted with her cup. If Rarity wasn't talking, that rather put the burden of conversation on her, and she wasn't feeling quite up to the task. “So, er,” she began, only to be interrupted by a knock at the door.

Rarity jolted back to her senses. “Now who could that be?” she wondered, opening the door telekinetically.

Ditzy waved. “Letter for you, Rarity.”

“Oh? Thank you, darling,” Rarity said, taking the envelope from the mare. She examined it as the postmare took off again. “Why, it's from Lotus! I wonder what it could be?”

“Maybe it's another coupon?” Fluttershy suggested.

Rarity paused. “Another, darling?”

“Like the one she gave to me the other day, for a free massage. She said you’d had one a few months ago?”

Rarity shook her head. “I don't remember that. But if it is a coupon… well, I should be most grateful to her.” She ripped open the envelope and removed the letter. The sweet smell of honeysuckle filled the room as Rarity read the paper. Her brows rose. “I see!”

Fluttershy frowned. “See what, Rarity?”

“It seems that I have a date of my own to prepare for,” Rarity replied. “Tomorrow, much like you. Hm.” She set the paper down on the table and sat down heavily. “Lotus and I… hm…”

Fluttershy drained the rest of her tea. “Perhaps I should be going now. Let you get ready. I could give you my free massage coupon, if you want it.”

“No, thank you, darling,” Rarity replied absently. “You enjoy yourself. Thank you for your help today.”

“Oh, you're welcome. And I will enjoy myself. Lotus told me the massage had a ‘happy ending’. That sounds nice, doesn't it?”

Rarity smiled. “Yes, dear.”

Then she blinked. “Wait. What?”

Fluttershy, however, was already gone.

Saturday Night

Starlight slammed the castle door behind her as she stormed into the main hall. Twilight poked her head out of the kitchen door, smiling broadly. “Starlight!”

“I know, I know,” Starlight snapped. “Congratulations to me.”

Twilight’s smile faltered. “What? I was only going to ask you how the errands were. Where's Spike?”

Starlight took a deep breath and sat down heavily in the middle of the hall. “In reverse order, taking a nap at Rarity’s, lousy, and ugh.”

Twilight trotted out of the doorway to sit at her student’s side. “Going to need some clarification on that last one, Starlight.”

“Everywhere I went. Every rutting stop. Everypony smiled at me and said ‘congratulations’. Everypony. Well, almost everypony, Mrs. Cake just gave me an extra cupcake and wished me good luck but it was the same general meaning!”

Starlight flopped onto her stomach. Twilight rubbed her softly behind the ears. “Starlight, do you think you might be overreacting? Just a little?”

“No!” Starlight replied, muffled. Twilight continued to rub her head. “...maybe,” Starlight conceded. “I just wish they'd tell me what I'm supposed to have done.”

Twilight hummed. “Well, what have you done recently that the whole town would know about?”

“Perfected the invisible aura spell Sunburst sent me… uh, built up Spike’s self-worth? Um…” she shook her head. “I’ve got nothing.”

Twilight considered this carefully. Then, she shrugged. “Well, I don't suppose it matters much right now. If it helps, tomorrow I can ask around and see what's going on. Now, what's this about Spike staying with Rarity?”

***

Spike cracked open an eye, crusty though it was with sleep. He rubbed a claw over his lids to brush away the sandy gunk, then looked around the room.

This was not his bedroom. This wasn't the basket he had insisted Twilight replace, though she felt sure he was ready for a real bed. No shelves of comic books stood on the wall; no lovingly if inexpertly rendered poster of Garbunkle the Wizard adorned the door; no scrolls of parchment filled the desk.

Instead, he sat on a canopied four-poster bed. The dim evening light reflected off a vanity mirror. The walls held no posters, but some very impressive-looking paintings hung alongside childish drawings. The table in the corner was covered in sketches of dresses and suits. He was in Rarity’s room. Why was he in Rarity’s room?

Right. Napping. Spike glanced out the window. “Huh,” he rasped. “Guess I’ve been out for awhile.”

He coughed, and a gout of green flame spurted out. He pulled himself out of bed, grunting as his feet hit the floor. His shoulders sagged. He felt sluggish and heavy, but well-rested. Despite his grogginess, Spike felt as though he could lift a house! He pushed open the door. The wood splintered and broke at his touch. Stepping through the hole he had made, Spike took out the rest of the door and a good section of the wall besides.

He walked down the hall. The walls seemed narrower than usual today, and Spike’s shoulders knocked paintings from their nail while his tail whipped tables into kindling. The air was rank with the scent of smoke. Had Sweetie Belle been cooking again?

“I do believe our guest is awake,” he heard Rarity say. “Sweetie, be a dear and set a third place for Spikey-Wikey.”

He grinned and sped up slightly. The stairs cracked under his feet, and his swinging tail gouged long trails in the walls. He eventually came to the ground floor and poked his head around the corner. “Hi, girls,” he said, but then stopped. His voice was no longer thin from sleep, but low and gravelly enough to wear diamonds smooth.

“Hello, Spike, darling,” Rarity replied, turning around to look at him. “How was your na-heh-AAAAAAAHHH!”

“Rarity? What's wrong?” Spike tried to ask. It came out sounding more like “RRRRRAAARRRRRGH!”

“Sweetie Belle! Run, I'll hold him off,” Rarity ordered, brandishing a polished skillet. Spike could see his reflection in it, but not his face. The reflection was gnarled and hideous, all scales and spines, horns that would make a minotaur blush and teeth like golden daggers. In no aspect of it could he see himself, least of all in those cold, reflected gimlet eyes that met his.

He opened his mouth to scream, but all that came out was flame. And not the teleportation sort.

***

Spike jolted awake once more, gasping for air. He glanced down at himself, checking his arms, legs and tail. Yes. Still the same pudgy baby dragon as ever.

He took a deep breath and let it out slowly as he looked around the room. Still Rarity’s. Still coming on to evening. He rolled over, and his feet hit the ground with a quiet thump. He padded over to the vanity and examined himself in the mirror. Same baby-face, same head-fins, same spines, same eyes.

“Ahhhh,” he said, his tongue flicking over his teeth one by one. He snapped his jaw shut and nodded once. Then he quickly waddled to the door and made his way downstairs, being very careful not to bump into any walls along the way.

As he hopped down the last flight of steps, he heard Rarity’s voice echo up the stairwell. “I do believe our guest is awake. Sweetie, be a dear and set a third place for Spikey-Wikey.”

He poked his head into the kitchen. “Hi girls. What’s up?”

Rarity turned to look at him and smiled. “We were just sitting down for supper, darling. Would you care to join us for some roast carrots and baked potatoes?”

Spike shifted on the balls of his feet. “Uh, thanks for the offer, Rarity, but if I’ve been asleep for as long as I think I’ve been, I should really get back to the castle before Twilight starts worrying about me.”

Rarity’s lower lip pooched out, but she nodded her agreement. “Will you at least take a carrot for the road, then?” she asked, levitating a baking sheet in front of him. “Growing colt-- drakes need their food, after all.”

He grinned. “Yeah, I guess I could do with a bite,” he admitted, taking one of the smaller carrots from the tray. “Thanks, Rarity.”

Then he glanced at Sweetie Belle. “Good day crusading?” he asked, taking a big bite out of the carrot.

She shrugged. “I guess,” she said. “We didn’t get very far today. We only surveyed two ponies before Apple Bloom insisted we needed to rethink our strategy.”

“Survey?” Spike repeated. “What kind of survey?”

Sweetie froze, her jaw snapping like a briefcase. She couldn’t just tell the object of their investigation that he was being investigated! “Cutie marks,” she said at last. “We’re, um, finding out how everypony got theirs, and at what age.”

“Oh, cool,” Spike said, nodding. “Good luck with that.”

“Thanks!” Sweetie squeaked, not meeting his eyes.

“Well, I should be going,” Spike said. “Thanks for the carrot, Rarity. And the bed.”

“You’re welcome, darling. Have a good evening!”

“G’night, Spike!”

The dragon waved back as he stepped out into the late summer evening and closed the door behind him. He made his way to the street and turned towards home.

“Hey. Spike.”

Spike turned. Noteworthy, Rarity’s neighbor nodded at him from his stoop. “Congratulations.”

He flushed, glancing back at the Boutique door. “Oh, uh, I don’t-- didn’t--”

But Noteworthy had already stepped inside.

Red-faced, Spike took another bite from the carrot and hurried home.

***

Big Macintosh set down a tray of soyburgers on the table. Granny took a deep whiff and nodded approvingly. “Smells jes’ like yer daddy use ta make,” she said.

Mac blushed, though nopony could tell. “Thanks,” he replied. “Ya want any cheese, there, Granny?”

She waved a hoof imperiously. “Lay on, Macintosh!”

“Will th’ fries be done soon?” Bloom asked hopefully.

“No fries tonight,” Applejack reported as she set down a soup-pot. “Have some peas.”

“Aw… alright.”

Mac and Applejack took their seats as Granny began to dish out the vegetables. “So, youngun,” she said, looking at Bloom. “What-all did you do today?”

Bloom grabbed a burger off the tray. “Not much,” she said, taking off the bun and reaching for a catsup bottle. “We tried ta go t’ th’ market, but there weren't hardly nopony there.”

Applejack looked away, recalling how she herself had gotten towed away from her stand by the stampede. “Well, that's a real shame,” she said, scratching her ear. “What-all were ya tryin’ ta do?”

Bloom’s eyes flicked to her sister for a mere moment. “Don't much matter now. We're gonna try summat different tomorrow.”

Mac took a bite of his burger and chewed thoughtfully. “So. Ya hear tell ‘bout Starlight?”

“Macintosh! You know how Ah feel ‘bout gossip in this house,” Applejack said sharply.

“An’ you know how Ah feel about it,” Granny said gleefully, leaning forwards in her seat. “Tell ol’ Granny about it, Mac.”

Mac’s glanced at Applejack, who huffed and glowered back. She opened her mouth, but was cut off. “Is it about Spike?” Apple Bloom asked.

“Oh, you heard it too,” Mac said.

Applejack closed her mouth with a snap and gave a thoughtful scowl. “She was actin’ a bit close with him earlier,” she allowed. “Fine. Go on.”

“Well, it ain't much,” Mac said. Apple Bloom stared at her sister, searching for a reaction. “They're steppin’ out, so Ah hear.”

Applejack shot up ramrod-straight. “They whut?”

Bloom smiled grimly. So Applejack didn't know, after all. That lowlife lizard…

“Does Twi know yet?” Applejack asked, leaning forwards. “An’-- an’ ain't he too young?”

“He’s nineteen in September.”

Applejack blinked. “Well. Ah’ll be.” She grinned. “Still. Good for them! Hope they get on well together.”

But Apple Bloom could see what Applejack was really feeling. Don't worry, sis. Ah’ll teach that cheater a lesson he won't soon forget.

***

Fluttershy stared blankly at her bed. Half a dozen dresses stared back. She picked up one for the space of a moment, then dismissed it just as quickly. Nothing seemed to be right for tomorrow’s impending… event. Yes, event was the word for it; exactly the right term to avoid sending her into a nervous tizzy like the one she’d had when she’d returned from tea. If she thought of it as a d-- thought of it as the word Rarity had used, she’d wind up a panicked pile of feathers.

It was almost enough to make her wish that she hadn’t sent away Discord. They might have been somewhat insensitive, but they made her that much stronger just by being around.

She quashed those feelings. No. That wasn’t who she was. She wouldn’t be strong if it meant that others would be hurt. She’d learned that lesson the hard way.

She turned back to the piles of cloth on the bed, inspecting each in turn; five were Rarity’s work, three Gala dresses, one coronation gown, and one Hearth’s Warming gift. The last one, a sundress, Fluttershy had made herself. She considered that one for a long moment, but shook her head.

The trouble was, she didn’t know this Eris from Private Pansy. She ought to have asked Rarity for her impression, at least, but it was too late to go back and enquire now. Was the doe formal? Grounded? Silly? Intelligent? Artistic? Any combination of the above?

“Oh,” Fluttershy sighed. “It’s hopeless. I can’t even plan a date with somepony I don’t know, let alone try to love them. All I know about her is that she likes suits, apparently.”

That rung a bell. Fluttershy stood up and trotted back to the closet. It took a moment of rummaging, but she produced a dark-grey suit from the back-- she had meant it for Zephyr, but he had never worn it. It apparently ‘cramped his style’.

She considered it for a long moment. It seemed unlikely that he would ever wear it. And the color would suit her, as well. She nodded firmly, and went to return the other dresses to the closet. Sleep could wait. She needed to make some adjustments.

***

Twilight cast another look towards the large double doors behind her seat at the dining table.

Starlight sighed. “Twilight, he’s fine. He probably just stayed for dinner with Rarity, that’s all.”

The princess sighed and returned to picking at her ravioli. “You’re probably right,” she admitted. “Still, I can’t help worrying about him.”

Starlight rubbed her forehead. “Twilight. This is Ponyville we’re talking about. I don’t think it’s physically possible to have a safer town.”

“Starlight, we live on the edge of the Everfree. Every month, the town is virtually razed. If that’s your definition of safe, I’m afraid to ask what kinds of places you think are dangerous.”

“Point taken. Still, Twilight. Spike is a baby dragon. You’re focusing on the ‘baby’ when you should be thinking about the ‘dragon’. He can swim in lava, chew through rock, and breathe actual magical fire.”

Twilight scrunched up her muzzle and Starlight sighed. “Look. You said yourself that you think Spike is being stifled. Well, how is he going to get free if you keep fussing over him like this?”

“I know! I know. You’re right,” Twilight said, dropping her fork and her head. “But… I raised him, Starlight. I’m his ‘big sister’ or whatever, but most of the time I’ve been his mother as much as my mom was. Heck, as much as Princess Celestia was. I’ve always needed to protect him from bullies, or from nobles, or from himself.” She looked up, eyes wide and sorrowful. “How do I stop?”

Starlight wanted to answer, but she couldn’t. She merely shook her head and shrugged. Twilight slumped back in her chair, defeated.

There was the sound of a door slamming, and both mares jumped. “Spike?”

“Yeah. Hi!” The soft pat-pat-pat of feet on crystal grew steadily louder until Spike pushed open the door. He glanced at the duo. “Do either of you know why everypony I passed today kept congratulating me?”

***

Lotus stared up at the ceiling of her room, alive with questions that lacked any type of coherent answer. For instance, was it the done thing to meet Rarity at the Boutique or at the restaurant? Should she get her flowers? Chocolates? Wine? Not jewelry; that was too much commitment for a first date, and she couldn’t afford it anyway.

She sat up, hugging her pillow tightly. Would Rarity even accept her invitation? She was, after all, a famous fashion designer, and Lotus was merely the mare who gave her a hooficure every week. Not to mention, she was in love with Fluttershy. Dear Luna, what if Rarity laughed in her face? What if she stopped coming to the spa altogether?

At some point, she realized, she had gotten out of bed and started pacing. Well, she wasn’t about to stop now. Worse still, what if Rarity decided to choose her over Fluttershy? The poor pegasus would be heartbroken, devastated! Assuming, that is, she knew how Rarity felt about her, which was not guaranteed. But then, to put such pressure on Rarity, choosing one mare or the other, it would be a nightmare! She silently cursed her sister for placing all that pressure on each and every one of them.

Meanwhile, in her own room Aloe slept like a rock, dreaming of dates and wedding bells.

Sunday Morning

Fluttershy awoke to the sound of a gong smashing right next to her ear. She shrieked, sitting bolt upright at the table, and glanced around wildly. The first thing she noticed was that she was not in her bed; rather, she had fallen asleep slumped over her kitchen table, halfway through refitting her suit.

The second thing she noticed was a little bunny holding a mallet and standing next to a gong, glaring up at her and tapping his foot rapidly.

“Good morning, Angel,” Fluttershy sighed. “I’ll be out to fix breakfast in a minute.”

Angel gave her a look that plainly stated the unacceptability of this wait. Fluttershy gave him a Stare back. After a moment, the rabbit shrugged, tossed aside the mallet, and hopped away. Fluttershy sighed and stretched her back, catlike. Her wings tensed and then relaxed. She gave them a little flutter, just to ensure that they were still working after being slept on funny. Oh dear. Perhaps she had better cash in that massage coupon today. She trotted out the door, blinking the last remnants of sleep from her eyes. The suit, not quite finished, lay on the table.

***

Spike groaned and shook his fist weakly in the direction of his alarm clock. When that accomplished nothing, he reached down and felt along the floor until he found a heavy object, then heaved it at the incessant ringing. There was a crunch, then silence.

After a few minutes, he began the daunting task of wriggling out of the covers, a task akin to a snake shedding its skin. Having accomplished that after a mere three minutes of struggle, he lay on top of the bedding and stared at the ceiling for a long minute. Then, with the reluctant sigh of one whose need to use the toilet has outweighed his laziness, he heaved himself to his feet, shrugged on his oh-so-fluffy pink bathrobe, and waddled out the door and down the hall to the closest bathroom.

Locked. Of course. He slumped against the wall and let his eyes droop, fully prepared to wait. However, it was only a minute or two before he heard the lock click open. Twilight stepped out and smiled. “Morning, Spike.” She paused. “Uh, sleep alright?”

Spike gave her a flat look with ringed and red-tinged eyes. “I really shouldn’t have taken that nap yesterday. Couldn't get to sleep.”

Twilight tsked. “Well, I’ve got good news, then. No chores today.”

Spike’s eyes went wide. “Really? You mean it?”

“Absolutely,” Twilight replied. “Instead, Starlight and Fluttershy both suggested that I help you work on your magic.”

Spike’s joy faded again. “Oh. Uh, that’s great, Twilight.”

Twilight frowned. “Is something the matter with that?” She looked at him earnestly. “I promise I’ll start out with the basics, and I won’t go deep into theory at all. We’ll go at your pace, and—”

“Are you sure I’m old enough?” Spike asked desperately. “To be learning magic, I mean?”

“I don’t see why not,” Twilight replied. “I started out when I was six. If anything, I’ve been neglecting this part of your education for much too long.”

“Great,” Spike repeated. He made an effort to smile, but it was more of a grimace.

Twilight seemed either to not notice or simply not care. “Great! We’ll start after breakfast. I’ll meet you in the main library.” She all but pronked away, a big, proud smile on her face.

Spike closed the bathroom door behind him and slumped down on the floor. “Great.”

***

Applejack, conscientious farmer that she was, made a point of going to bed with the cows and waking with the chickens. This presented something of a problem on days when the cows decided to have a ladies night, for example, but by and large it meant that she got enough sleep to function and work hard all day long.

She was also about the only Apple to make such a commitment. Granny, of course, couldn’t be expected to sleep as little as Applejack did, nor could Apple Bloom, growing filly she was. As for Mac, he could sleep through anything short of a changeling invasion.

Generally, therefore, Applejack could count on being the first one into the kitchen every morning. However, there were always exceptions. Today, she thought as she observed the light shining up the stairwell, looked to be among them.

She made her way into the kitchen as quietly as she could, with only a few faint creaks announcing her descent. She peered around the corner and into the kitchen. There, her back facing Applejack, sat Apple Bloom, munching on a bowl of cornflakes. “Mornin’,” Applejack said, watching for a reaction.

She certainly got one. Bloom about choked on her cereal. “Applejack! Don’t sneak up on me like that! Y’all scared the spit outta me!”

“What are you doin’ up so early?”

Bloom took another spoonful of cereal. “Gettin’ an early start.” She crunched the cereal loudly.

Applejack gave her a searching look. “Early start on what?”

Bloom pointed to her mouth. “Alrigh’, swallow first, then tell me,” Applejack allowed.

She did so. “Crusadin’.” She took another bite.

“Bloom…”

After a long moment, after the filly couldn’t keep the well-chewed mush in her mouth a second longer, she replied, “We’re aimin’ to get our cutie marks for investigation.”

Applejack raised her brow one centimeter. “How’s that, now?”

“Oh, nothin’ big. It’s jes’, Spike’s hidin’ somethin’. An’ we aim ta find out what.”

Applejack scowled. “Apple Bloom. Don’t you go invadin’ other folks’ privacy, ya hear? You remember that ‘Gabby Gums’ incident.”

“This ain’t like that!” Bloom took another bite of cereal. “We ain’t gonna tell everypony what he’s doin’, we jes’ wanna know what it is! If he wants ta tell after that, fine.”

Applejack didn’t look convinced. Bloom decided to play her trump card. “If he’s lyin’, think about how much he’s hurtin’ by not tellin’ th’ truth!”

Applejack scowled. Apple Bloom smiled sweetly. “Like ya always say, honesty is th’ best policy!”

“Ah never said that in mah life,” Applejack muttered. “Fine. Go. Spy. But if he don’t wanna spill th’ beans, you let it drop, ya hear? Gossip never did no good fer nopony!”

Apple Bloom nodded quickly, dropping her spoon into the bowl. “Okay Applejack Ah will Ah love y’all thanks bye!”

With that, she was gone, bursting out the door into the faint light of dawn. Applejack watched out the window as her sister’s red tail faded into the morning mist. “Honesty is the best policy,” she mused, scooping up Bloom’s dishes to wash. “Huh. Maybe Ah should start sayin’ that…”

***

Rarity rested her head against her lover’s chest as they lay together in the warm light of daybreak. She could feel the beat of their heart against her temple, soothing and relaxing. She gave a contented sigh. “It’s wonderful, being with you, darling,” she murmured.

They hummed their agreement. She struggled for a moment to conjure up their name, but her head was filled with the warm cotton of awakening after a good night’s sleep. She let the matter drop and instead gazed up at their face. It was obscured by shadow. Ah well. It didn’t much matter, right now. “I’m going to powder my nose darling.”

“Yes, dear,” they replied. “Be sure to look your best.”

She felt stiff, rising from the bed. Perhaps she had fallen asleep at an awkward angle? Rarity shook out her hooves, one by one, and trotted towards the lavatory. She brushed against the wall, and fancied that she heard an aggravated mutter from the bed she had left behind. She winced and elected to walk more quietly. It would be most unkind to disturb anypony else’s repose.

She entered the bathroom. The tile floor did not feel as chilly today as it normally did, which was delightful. Humming softly, she opened up her cabinet. She stopped humming. Where had all of her makeup gone? Her eyeshadow, her mascara, even her shampoo? One lone bottle sat on the shelf. She pulled it out, looking for a clue. The label read ‘Iron Maiden’s Metal Polish’, with an image of three shining gold coins below.

Rarity frowned at it, turning the bottle over in her hooves. Surely this belonged in her workshop if it belonged in her home at all. Then, looking around the bathroom, she realized that this was not her home, not her boutique! It was a fine bathroom, certainly, made of marble and gold and other fine materials, but it was not one she had ever been in. Confused, she turned to the mirror. Her stomach lurched.

Staring back from the mirror was a golden automaton, a machine cast in her image. Sapphire eyes stared back at her from their settings in her face. She lifted a hoof to touch her face, but she could feel nothing. She tapped the casing harder and harder— and surely it was a casing, surely— but she could feel nothing until she was lambasting her face with her own hoof. There was one final whack. When her hoof came away, her cheek was dented.

“Damaged.” She spun around. Her shadowy lover was standing right behind her, every bit as indistinct as they had been in the bedroom. “Get rid of it.”

Rarity choked on her own retort as strong hooves grabbed her and dragged her from the room, out the door and into where the hallway had been a moment ago. Now, however, it was an empty pit, devoid of everything but mud. She could feel it corrupting her metal surface, corroding her interior, clogging her cogs. She threw herself at the closed door, screaming all the while. She felt her body buckle under each strike, gaping orifices growing wider along her joints until a cavity popped open in her chest and something fell out. A single red gem, shaped like a heart. Her heart. It clattered along the ground, until it reached a precipice— and down it fell into the bottomless depths. She tried to run after it, to move, but her animus had left her. She was no more than a broken toy, a dented trophy, a mare without a heart.

***

Rarity sat bolt upright, gasping for breath. Her eyes adjusted to the light of day, and she glanced around frantically. It was her own room, and she was the only one there. She rushed to her boudoir and stared into the mirror. Flesh and blood, as ever. She gave a sigh of deepest relief. “Only a dream after all,” she murmured, relaxing.

But a dream about what, she wondered as she applied her makeup carefully. It had been altogether lovely up to a point. She had found romance, something which had been eluding her for some years now. She had been in a lovely home with an obviously wealthy partner as well. And yet, how quickly her long-term dream had turned into a nightmare. Why? What was wrong with romancing a high-society pony that lent itself so easily to horror?

She grimaced, recalling her first Grand Galloping Gala. Ah, yes. That. But not all ponies were Blueblood. Not even all nobles were Blueblood. Fancy Pants and Fleur de Lis were both prime examples. Were they not so deeply ensconced with one another, Rarity would gladly have sought to woo either of them. She shook her head and smiled at the mirror. Foolish Rarity, she thought. Searching in meaning in dreams. Next you’ll be looking for method in Discord’s madness.

Satisfied with her applied makeup, Rarity went down to breakfast. Much to her surprise, Sweetie was already there, munching an apple. “You’re up early, darling,” she said, crossing to the kitchen counter. “You do recall that there’s no school until tomorrow, correct?”

“I know,” Sweetie replied. “Apple Bloom said she wanted us to get an early start on Crusading today, so we’re all meeting up at eight.”

Rarity nodded, pulling some eggs from the icebox. “Alright, darling. Be sure to stay out of trouble.” She paused. “Sweetie, does that apple comprise your entire breakfast?”

The filly swallowed the last bite and nodded. “I tried to make cereal, but it didn’t turn out so good.”

Rarity glanced at the garbage can and nudged it with her back hoof. A small plume of oily smog rose from its depths, and both unicorns gagged at the smell. “A poached egg, then, before you go?”

“Yes, please.”

Rarity got out a pot and stuck it under the faucet. As it filled, she warred with herself. Should she ask? Should she not? ”Sweetie, darling, exactly what did you do to that bowl of cereal?”

“I dunno. I poured in the cereal, and nothing happened.”

“Good.”

“It was fine when I poured in the milk.”

“Yes…”

“I put in the spoon. No change.”

“All correct.”

“It was when I put it in the oven that it went downhill,” Sweetie said, spinning the apple core around in her hooves.

Rarity inhaled sharply. “Sweetie Belle, you are aware that the term is ‘cold cereal’ for a reason, correct?”

“Oh…” Sweetie smacked her forehead. “Of course! I should’ve frozen it!”

Rarity sighed and shut off the tap. “Darling, I am aware that someday you will move out. When that day comes to pass, please, please, please find a roommate who knows how to cook, won’t you?”

“Okay,” Sweetie agreed. “Hey, Rarity? What was all that noise coming from your room?”

“A nightmare.” Rarity set the pot on the stove and began to crack the eggs into a bowl. “No doubt I ate something which didn’t agree with me last night. Or… something.”

“Oh.” Sweetie considered this for a long moment. “Was it a nightmare about Spike?”

Rarity fumbled the last egg, sending bits of shell into the yolk. “Oh, dear,” she sighed, lighting her horn to pull the shards out. “Spike, darling? No, I don’t believe so. Why do you ask?”

Sweetie shrugged. “Well, that’s what you were yelling. ‘Oh, Spike, darling.’ ‘Dearest scales.’ ‘My lovely big Spikey-Wikey.’”

If Rarity turned red just then, it was entirely due to the heat coming off the simmering water. Not at all would it have been due to any embarrassment she felt, or any snatches of saucy dreams that she was just now recalling. That was, of course, if she had turned red. Which she certainly had not. It simply was not part of her color scheme, especially not this early in the morning. So there.

“Sweetie, would you care to pass the salt?” Rarity asked in a voice that was absolutely not of a register higher than the norm.

“Okay. You want pepper, too?”

“That would be lovely, darling.” Rarity regained control of herself. Not as if she had ever lost it, naturally. “How did you sleep last night?”

“Okay, I guess,” Sweetie said with a shrug. “Oh, hey!”

“Hay is for eating, dear, not shouting.”

Sweetie forged on. “I meant to ask you something the other day, but Discord kinda got in the way. It’s not really important now, but I’m kinda curious.”

“Mhm,” Rarity said, placing the bowl of eggs atop the now-boiling water. “Ask away.”

“How do you know when you’re in love?”

The eggs plunged into the water, sending up a cloud of hissing steam. “Oh, dear,” Rarity said, detached. “It seems we’re two for two on ruining breakfast today. How do you feel about tofu bacon?”

“Yes, please! But Rarity, how do you—”

“I heard you the first time, dear. I’m thinking.” Rarity pulled open the icebox once more and rummaged around the bottom. “Hm. The tofu bacon is moldy. Bagels with cream cheese?”

“Sounds good.”

“I’ll be frank, darling. I wasn’t anticipating this question for another few years, and I certainly wasn’t expecting you to ask today. However, let me think.” She cocked her head. “May I first ask who the lucky colt is? Or filly? Or… well, foal?”

Sweetie hesitated. “Uh, it’s not really for me…”

“Ah, one of those,” Rarity said with a laugh. “Heavens, but I remember dating a bad boy. Better to get it out of the way when you’re young, I suppose. Hm. When you’re in love… I suppose the first clue would be mutual respect and appreciation. If that is not there, neither is true love; only infatuation. Some commonalities are necessary, but that is true of virtually any positive relationship. It is not, however, necessary to be identical.”

“Yeah, Miss Octavia said something a lot like that.”

“Wise mare. But I don’t feel that I’m answering your question. Let me— we’re out of cream cheese. Bagels with butter?”

“Ew, no.”

Rarity huffed and dug through the icebox again. “When you’re in love,” she continued, “you feel a sort of connection. The two of you want to spend time together doing anything, no matter how mundane. You want to be with them, talk with them, touch them, but you would give all that up.” She pulled her head out of the ice box. “Do you understand me, Sweetie Belle? You would give up all of that if you had to. If it would make them happy, you would let them go, lift them up, give anything to know that they were better off. You would help them to grow and do so gladly, even if that meant they would outgrow you.”

She shoved her head into the pantry as Sweetie gazed on in shocked silence. “Gosh, Rarity. When did you get so smart about love?”

“This is not about love alone, dear. It’s about generosity as well, and you know I excel at that.” She slammed shut the cabinet door. “It seems I’ll need to use that generosity well at the market today. Here.”

Sweetie stared. “Cheese and crackers? For breakfast?”

“If you would prefer, I believe I can fix you up with corn chips and ketchup,” Rarity replied drily.

Sweetie pulled a face. “I think I’ll just eat at Sweet Apple Acres. Bye, Rarity! Thanks for the advice. It was… insightful!”

Rarity gave a wan smile. “You’re welcome, darling. Have fun today, and remember what I said about love!”

“I will! Love you, have a great day!”

Rarity smiled as she watched Sweetie rush out the door. The expression melted off her face as she turned to the cheese and crackers on the table. She took a bite meditatively. She certainly hadn’t planned to say all that aloud. In the end, she had been practically rambling. More love and fear. What could be brewing in her subconscious that could inspire such visions? A face swam up in her mind’s eye, but she pushed it down vigorously. “Absolutely not. He’s only a child.” She sighed. “At least, that’s how it would appear.”

Perhaps all this was merely jitters about her first date in years, discounting as she did the fiasco at that first Gala. But Lotus was a kind, gentle mare. She would not treat Rarity with the disdain of Blueblood or the antagonist of last night’s bad dream.

She wouldn’t.

Would she?

***

Twilight and Starlight had broken their fast together, with Spike arriving in the dining room some twenty minutes after they had finished their meal. “Morning,” he said, raising a claw briefly in greeting. “What’s for breakfast today?”

“Scrambled eggs with a sprinkling of topaz,” Starlight replied, levitating over the pan. “It might’ve gotten a little cold, though.”

“Parfait?” Twilight invited, levitating over a champagne glass filled with yogurt, berries, garnets, and whipped cream.

“Uh, yeah, thanks,” Spike said, scratching his head. “Wow, this is really special!”

Twilight grinned. “Well, it’s not every day you start learning magic, is it? I thought you might enjoy a little something sweet before we get started.”

Spike said nothing, but hummed appreciatively around his spoon. “So,” Twilight began, taking out a set of notecards. “Basics of practical magic. There’s illusion magic, naturally— that’s not really my area, but Starlight says she can get Trixie to help.” Twilight’s pursed lips told Spike all he needed to know about what she thought of that idea.

“There’s also levitation and light. Those three comprise the three branches of magic; illusion for mind, levitation for body, and light for world. As you know, every sapient species in the world has some affinity for all of these magics to a varying degree—”

“Twilight,” Starlight interrupted. “You said you were going to focus on the practical.”

“Oh!” she grinned sheepishly. “Sorry, Spike. The point is, western dragons, like you, tend to be strong in body and world magic. That is, you’re very physically powerful and have some amount of control over the elements. That, therefore, is where we’ll be starting today. Light spells are practical, simple, and usually the first thing a unicorn would learn.”

Spike frowned. “Um, Twi? Not to put a damper on your curriculum or anything, but I breathe fire. So, uh, next?”

Twilight smirked. “You can breathe fire, sure. How long can you keep up a good blast, though? Five seconds? Ten, if you’ve just finished a bottle of soda. Are you going to walk around at night, burping constantly so you don’t run into anything?”

Spike considered this. “Yes.”

“Nice try, but not happening. C’mon, we’ll go practice in the dungeon. It’s darker down there.”

Spike sighed and downed the last of his breakfast, following Twilight out of the room. “See you later, Starlight.”

She waved. “Good luck!”

Once the duo had gone, she turned her attention back to the list of errands she had to run today. “Pinkie’s, Quills and Sofas, Rarity’s, and the stationery store,” she recited aloud. “Shouldn’t take too long at all.”

She stuffed the list into her saddlebags and turned to the door, only to see it swinging shut. Starlight frowned and stuck her head into the hallway to see who it might have been. However, there was nopony there. She shrugged, then trotted toward the main doors of the castle without giving the matter a second thought.

Meanwhile, down the hall in the other direction, Scootaloo was plastered against the wall, hoping to Celestia that Starlight couldn’t see her. Eventually, her breathing slowed and she dared to peep out again. “Did you get it?” a voice hissed in her ear.

Scootaloo practically jumped out of her skin. “Dinky! Don’t do that!”

“Sorry,” Dinky said, not looking particularly sorry at all. “Well? Did you?”

“Uh, yeah. Sugarcube Corner, Quills and Sofas, Carousel Boutique, and Ink Inc.”

“Good. Let’s go report to the others,” Dinky said, taking off at a canter.

“Hold on! Did you find out about Spike?”

“Yes. We’ll have to engineer a distraction to get him away from Twilight today. Are you coming or not?”

Scootaloo growled something under her breath, but ran after her friend.

***

Before going to the market, which would probably be mostly closed this early in the morning anyway, Rarity decided to work a little more on Eris’s suit. She had finished most of the pieces last night after supper, but there was still the matter of stitching it all together to consider. The doe hadn’t specified if she wanted pants or not, so Rarity decided that, for a first date, a blind date at that, the inclusion of trousers could be seen as too uptight.

She let her mind wander slightly as she fed the spool of spring-green thread into the sewing machine. What ought she to wear for tonight? She had enough dresses to choose from, certainly. It wouldn’t do to overthink the matter, though she quietly wondered if it were possible to overthink such a vital issue. Her most formal dresses were right out; if she would wear it to the Gala, she would not wear it tonight. That would be altogether too much. Something nice, but simple, would be the thing to wear. A sundress would be perfect for the occasion. Blue, perhaps, to compliment Lotus’s coat? Purple would also do. No, those were more reserved colors, this was to be an evening of pleasantries between friends, friends who might possibly become something more, friends who had never shown any earthly interest in one another before today so what would make them start now?

She looked down and swore. In her distraction, she had sewn together the sleeves. She began to unpick the stitches, making sure to focus more on the task at hoof.

Tonight, she would wear her pink sundress with white ribbon. Friendly without being too dedicated. It was important that she be able to convey her intentions; after all, appearances were everything.

Late Sunday Morning

Starlight trotted quickly down the streets, smiling and nodding to the townsfolk as they passed by. At least today, nobody stopped her with inane congratulations, but she couldn’t help but notice how some of them fell into excited whispers and smiles as she trotted away.

She did her best to ignore it. Twilight had put off her investigation in favor of teaching Spike magic, so the whole affair was unlikely to be resolved anytime soon. She trotted on slightly more quickly towards Sugarcube Corner to place Twilight’s order for three dozen petits-fours-- the Princess of Friendship was also necessarily a Princess of Diplomacy, and she was expecting the Dragon Lord, King Thorax, and a pair of griffon ‘ambassadors’ who were in reality emissaries from the weak and corrupt Griffonstan government of the month.

Starlight was so wrapped up in political ponderings that she almost missed the fact that she had arrived at her destination. She pushed open the door with a distracted air. “CONGRATULATIONS!”

Starlight screamed and toppled head over hoof back out the door. Pinkie put a hoof to her mouth and stared down at her fallen friend. “Too much?”

“Maybe a little,” Starlight said drily. “Help me up.”

Pinkie hauled her back upright and helped dust off her coat. “Anyway, I’m so super happy for you, Starlight!”

“Why? What am I supposed to have done? Why is everypony just walking up and congratulating me?” By the end of her sentence, she was red-faced and almost shouting.

Pinkie flinched back. “Well, I dunno about the rest of the town, but I’m congratulating you because you’re our fiftieth customer today, so you win a prize!”

Starlight took in a deep breath and let it out slowly, deflating. “Oh. I see.” She glanced around. There were an uncomfortable amount of eyes on her. “Should we talk about this inside?”

“Okie-doke!” Pinkie chirped, bouncing back through the door. Starlight cast a last backwards glance at the gawkers, then hurried after her.

When she turned around again, Pinkie was already back at the counter. “So, er, I won,” Starlight said.

“Yep! You got fourth place! The hundreth customer gets third, the two-hundreth gets second, and the first prize--” she cut off suddenly, dropping to a low whisper. “Who gets first prize is a secret, or else anypony might try to just count customers and cheat to the top!”

Starlight blinked. “Okay then. What did I win?”

“I’m glad you asked! Take it away, Gummy!”

The toothless alligator blinked, then fell off the counter, taking with him a rope he held clutched between his jaws. A curtain rose up, though Starlight would swear that it hadn’t been there a moment ago, revealing a small pyramid of orange boxes. “You just won a week’s supply of Hay-a-Roni, the San Flanksisco treat! Plus, a box of cupcakes, and best of all, this!” Pinkie pulled a thin rectangle of gold seemingly out of nowhere.

Starlight took it carefully, turning it over in her magic. “Um, thanks? What is it?”

“Silly! It’s a plot coupon!” Pinkie said.

“Okay, what’s it for?”

Pinkie giggled. “Oh, you’ll know it when you see it,” she said, raising an eyebrow conspiratorially.

“...Right, thanks, Pinkie,” Starlight said, putting the card in her saddlebags. She made a mental note to tell Twilight that Pinkie was being more Pinkie than usual today. “Anyway, I came to place an order…”

Pinkie glanced out the plate-glass window as Starlight spoke, distracted by a sudden burst of motion across the street. Sweetie Belle seemed to be doing some kind of dance with flags, waving them and staring intently down the street.

“Pinkie? Are you listening?”

“Three boxes of petits-fours, one chocolate, one with honey glaze, one with assorted crushed gemstones, to be delivered to the castle at ten in the morning next Thursday,” Pinkie rattled back automatically, still watching as Sweetie Belle stowed her flags and sat back down on the bench.

Starlight blinked. “Oh. Yes. Good. So how much will that be?”

Pinkie looked back at her and smiled. “Fifteen bits, please.”

Starlight hoofed over the money and left, still slightly shaken. Pinkie could be a little unnerving on occasion. The rest of the time, she was downright disconcerting. She trotted down the road towards Quills and Sofas, electing to focus on the errands she still had to run rather than those that had already been completed.

So distracted was she that she didn’t even notice that a silver-grey colt had begun to follow her down the road, occasionally flashing covert signals towards the Ponyville clock tower…

***

Button squinted through the binoculars. “Okay… he’s blinking fast. And he flicked his ear.”

Dinky scanned the translation guide. “Ugh. Typical. Even when he’s three blocks away, he still complains about his job.”

“I wouldn’t have complained,” Button said.

“You weren’t subtle enough in the trial, we’ve been over this.”

“Aw, c’mon, it was one mistake!”

“Not only did Berry Punch-- your target-- notice you after you tripped over thin air, she came back to put a band-aid on your scraped hoof.”

Button grinned and glanced down at said bandage. “Isn’t it great? I didn’t even know they made band-aids with little pink elephants on them!”

“Just watch for more signals,” Dinky sighed.

Button put the binoculars back up to his eyes. “Oh no! He’s in the middle of one right now and I didn’t catch the start!”

Dinky rolled her eyes. “Gee, I wonder if there’s a lesson to be learned here.”

“Don’t worry, Dinky, I’ll fix it!” Button waved his hooves wildly. “RUMBLE! HEY, RUMBLE! RUMBLE, HEEEEEYYY! WE DIDN’T SEE THAT- urk!”

Dinky glared at the colt. His mouth was trapped in a very tight golden glow. “Button. Accidents will happen. I’m sure it was just Rumble griping again and you missed nothing of any importance. So sit down and stop being such a, a brain-dead puddinghead, alright!”

Button gave a muffled reply. “I’ll assume that was an agreement,” Dinky said coolly, releasing her grip on her friend’s jaw. “What’s he saying now?”

Button stared through the binoculars again. “Nothing… nothing… Oh, head-scratch! No, never mind, a leaf blew into his mane.”

“This job sucks,” Dinky remarked.

Button frowned. “Hey!”

“No, that’s the code for leaf-in-the-mane,” Dinky said. “In retrospect, we shouldn’t have let him make up his own code-movements. How much longer until Starlight falls into the trap and we can get down from here?”

“After the Boutique, I think,” Button said, turning slightly to track Rumble’s path. “I hope Scootaloo and Apple Bloom are getting along okay.”

***

“Remind me why we’re doing this again?” Scootaloo said, putting down her roll of duct tape.

Apple Bloom glared at her. “Ta get Spike ta confess he’s in love with Starlight Glimmer, o’ course!” she snapped. “Ain’t you got th’ brains y’all were born with?”

Scootaloo scowled back. “Okay then, Miss Genius, explain to the featherhead who found this room that fits your exacting demands, how this is going to do that.”

Apple Bloom attempted to imitate Rarity’s beatbox scoff and failed miserably. “We get Starlight in here first, right? She can’t get back out ‘cause th’ doors are locked an’ we got th’ anti-magic crystals Dinky, uh, ‘liberated’ from Twi’s castle.”

“Fine. Next?”

“We letl Spike know that Starlight’s gone missing somewhere after th’ Boutique. He’ll come a-lookin’ for her.”

“And he’ll look in here… why, exactly?”

“We mess up th’ ground, make it look like a struggle happened right outside that-there door.” She pointed with a hoof to the door in the back of the boiler room, the one that led outside to the back of the building. “He comes in, th’ door locks behind ‘em, an’ they’re stuck like canned tofu!”

“Okay. All that works. But then what? They’re just stuck in here! How do we get them to come out, and where does Applejack even come into all this?”

Eye-roll. Heavy, southern, sigh. “We tell Applejack that Spike an’ Starlight are trapped an’ the door key’s bin lost, so she needs ta come break th’ door down an’ save them. They all hug an’ say how much they’re all in love an’ ev’rypony around sees ‘em. All live happily ever after, the end. Got it?”

Scootaloo scratched her head. “I still don’t see why we can’t just tell them we know about their relationship and ask them to stop hiding their love.”

Apple Bloom’s eyes darted away for a split second as she thought up a good reason. Ironically enough, living with the former Element of Honesty was just the regimen needed to make a consummate liar. “Uh, well, what kinda fun would that be? Anyhow, then we couldn’t get our foalnapper cutie marks!”

“Oh!” Scootaloo lit up. “Why didn’t you say so? C’mon, these magic-absorbing crystals aren’t gonna stick themselves in various hidden crevisses!”

Apple Bloom heaved a quiet sigh of relief. Just like with Applejack, the best way to hide a lie was to make it mostly the truth. She’d follow the plan, go tell Applejack that that cheating lizard an’ his meddlesome hussy were stuck fast. Whether her sister chose to rescue them and catch them together (probably makin’ out, all wanton an’ suchlike) or to engage in a little petty revenge, Apple Bloom would be fine with her decision. She smirked to herself, sticking an anti-magic crystal into the keyhole of the door leading inside the building proper. This had to be a public thing, too, so the whole town could see the cheaters confronted. She had to hoof it to Scootaloo, the new Neightalian restaurant was the perfect place to stage this plan…

***

Fluttershy waded through the chittering scurry of squirrels, casting nuts and berries in wide arcs as she made her way back towards her cottage. “Now, now, no more of this,” she scolded gently when the beaver colony approached her with wide, puppydog eyes. “You’ve all eaten already. I have to go inside and finish up my refitting before tonight. It shouldn’t take me more than a half-hour, and then I’ll be back outside, alright?”

The crowd of animals slowly dispersed, leaving the path up to the cottage free to traverse. Fluttershy gave a small smile, then hurried up to the door. She stopped, however, when a robin flapped frantically over, chirping like mad and hovering in front of her face.

“Oh, dear. You’re quite sure?”

The robin continued to cheep hysterically. Fluttershy frowned and looked around. “Angel Bunny, there you are!”

The white rabbit glanced up and stared at his mistress suspiciously. “I need to help rebuild some nests out in Whitetail Woods. You’re in charge while I’m gone, alright?”

Angel stood up straight and threw a passable salute. “Good. I’ll be back soon.”

The rabbit watched Fluttershy hurry after the robin out of the yard, then tossed his carrot aside. Responsibility could get stuffed and mounted. He was going to enjoy the benefits of this little gig.

Angel made his way into the kitchen and up onto the counter, shooing away a richness of martins that had settled there. He gazed at the distance between the refrigerator and himself, crouched, and with a mighty leap, he flung himself forwards, grabbing on for dear life to the towel that hung from the fridge door and kicking back off the nearest foothold. The door swung open as Angel dropped to the floor once more.

He knelt for a moment before looking up at the bright glare of the icebox. Cookies and sandwiches, leftover hay fries, pickles, ketchup, jars of jelly, chocolate chips… He gazed up and licked his lips. There was no earthly way to choose what to eat first.

A casual observer might have been rather startled to see what seemed to be a ball of junk food waddling out of the kitchen on furry little white feet, heading for the parlor. Angel set down on the couch and pulled out a GameColt. Before long, he was enraptured by the game, stuffing his little face with fresh popcorn.

Meanwhile, the flock of martins that he’d displaced from the kitchen elected to settle elsewhere. They fluttered upstairs to Fluttershy’s bedroom, where one of them made a nest. Surely she’d not miss the bits of fabric and string lying on the table. Surely.

***

Meanwhile, back at the Castle of Friendship, Spike and Twilight were busily reorganizing the dungeons. It had come as a shock to both of them, as well as their friends, that the Tree of Harmony had supplied them with a place to lock up criminals. The purpose of some of the other artefacts down there had caused even more alarm. Pinkie had wasted no time submitting a request to convert the whole place into a fun-geon instead, and Twilight had been more than happy to allow her half the space to do so. The rest had been reserved for her own private mad-science laboratory.

This would probably have been more effective if Twilight had thought to specify which half Pinkie would be allowed. The eccentric mare had chosen to redecorate every other cell, which tended to make running experiments or throwing parties somewhat problematic affairs. After all, no party-goer wants to accidentally open the door to the timelash experiment when drunk, and no scientist wants to reach for a scalpel and find a cake knife instead. Also, lemonade and sulfuric acid can look astonishingly similar in dim light, as Twilight found out the hard way. Thankfully, it was only her experiment that was ruined, and not somepony’s stomach, but she decided to put an end to any future use of the fun-geon, and simply converted the place into storage space.

She had chosen this room for Spike’s training for a number of reasons. It was dark, so the light spell could be seen better; she had a variety of magic-proofing devices down here, including the remnants of Sombra’s magic-inhibitor crystals; and if something did go wrong during her lesson, she’d rather it be old junk that was incinerated than her nice furniture and books upstairs.

She hummed a little bit to herself as she finished setting the anti-magic crystals in an arc around Spike. She cast a glance at her little brother. He had become oddly reserved ever since they had entered the fun-geon, and even now he was staring sulkily at the paper target that Twilight had taped to the wall, surrounded by a hooffull of more magic-inhibitors. “Something the matter, Spike?”

He shrugged once, then lapsed back into stillness. Twilight hesitated in the middle of laying the next crystal. “You know, we can do this somewhere else, if you want. Or we can start with a different spell, maybe a modification of your teleportation? Would that make you feel better about this?”

Spike gave a slightly dismissive huff. “I just-- dunno about all this.” He waved a claw at the crystals around him. “I mean, is all this even necessary?”

Twilight glanced around the room. Pointy spikes of crystal jutted out from every surface in geometric patterns. “Ah. I take your point,” she agreed, crossing one foreleg behind the other awkwardly. “But beginners to studying magic tend to have… surges. Like the one that hatched you!”

“And turned me into a colossus,” Spike muttered.

“And turned mom and dad into plants, exactly,” Twilight agreed. “And that was when I was young and still growing into spellcasting. I mean, I had way more power then than a lot of other foals, but you see why I might take a few precautions for you? If it’ll make you feel better though, I’ll take them back down. I want you to feel comfortable, Spike. These lessons are all about you.”

Spike looked at Twilight’s earnest expression for a long moment, then glanced back at the crystals arranged around the room. The worst part was, she meant what she said. Every word. She really did want to make him feel better, but she had no idea that her little reminder about the near-catastrophe during her admissions test only served to make his stomach twist around his heart. “No,” he said at length. “Keep them. If it makes you feel safe, it makes me feel safe. But, uh, won’t it make hitting the target with the light spell a lot harder?”

“Not really. The weaker the spell is, the less they tend to try and absorb it. Think of it like magnetic attraction. If two magnets are sufficiently weak and far away, they won’t attract.”

Spike nodded. “Like an Auric Hoof-trap. If you pull harder, you just get stuck tighter, but if you ease out…”

Twilight coughed. “Well, that’s not a… wholly inaccurate analogy, I suppose.” She looked flustered, and Spike grinned. He knew she hadn’t forgotten the day in fifth grade she’d spent frantically trying to un-trap her hooves from the fiendish little device. Perhaps it was a little schadenfreude, but her sudden embarrassment served only to bolster him.

“Okay, I’m ready,” he said.

Twilight recovered her composure. “Good. Now, remember what I explained about focusing on the light. Don’t worry about size or brightness right now, we’ll work on control later. Just look at the target, think about light, and breathe.”

Spike inhaled deeply. If he was gonna do this, he was going to make the biggest, brightest light he could. He blew out, and the green flame grew and expanded like bubblegum. Twilight blinked and raised a hoof to shield her eyes from the light and the heat. Wait. Heat? “Spike, no!”

It was too late. Spike released the bubble, and it went soaring towards the wall, striking it with a faint thump and a wash of heat. Twilight screwed her eyes tight against the brightness. When she opened them again, the wall was covered in soot, and the area Spike had hit had melted somewhat. Even the inhibitor crystals around the splash zone had turned into lumps of blackened flux. For a long moment, they both just stared at the wall, faces both ashen and ashy, mouths agape. Spike raised a claw and pointed. “Erk,” was his eloquent observation.

Twilight’s mouth snapped open and shut like a briefcase for a few seconds before she recovered herself. “That was… very good for a first try. Next time, Spike, I want you to think more about light without heat, like fireflies.”

“Gak,” Spike continued.

“I suppose those crystals were meant to contain pony magic rather than dragonflame,” Twilight soldiered on. “That must be it. I’ll have to run a few tests on some of them, research what can inhibit dragon magic…” she trailed off, staring at Spike’s unresponsive face. She sighed and patted him on the head. “Here’s five bits. Go buy an ice-cream or something.”

Spike nodded, still numb from shock. He took the proffered bits, then marched out the door like a wind-up soldier. Twilight watched him go. “Good job today!” she called, half-desperate.

No reply. Twilight stared at the wall. It was still glowing faintly, and a slight acrid smell was in the air. She sat down heavily. “Maybe this wasn’t the best idea,” she muttered, casting a freezing spell on the hot crystal.

Then, her brow furrowed, and she glanced around at the magic-absorbing crystals. The magic-absorbing crystals which, by all rights, should have slurped up her magic like so much spaghetti. She picked one up in her aura, something which should have been downright impossible. “Fakes,” she breathed. “But I checked them yesterday! Who could have switched them out--”

She stopped, recalling Dinky Doo explaining how she was trying to get her cutie mark in geology, carting along a large pile of what looked like dull, grey rocks. Twilight set her jaw and threw the useless stone to the floor. Clearly, she was going to need to have a talk with Ditzy Doo about her daughter…

***

Angel made his way to level five in his game, a half-eaten brownie hanging from his mouth as he stared, glazed, at the screen. His paws tapped quickly on the buttons, only occasionally pausing to grab another bite to eat off the pile. He was coming up to a gang of enemies. Piece of cake. He just had to jump them at the right second, and being a rabbit, jumping came to him naturally. Not yet… not yet…

A loud huff broke the bunny’s focus. He glanced up, and saw Harry the Bear looking at him. He turned back to the game but it was too late. His character was overrun by monsters. Game over.

Angel hurled the game to the ground with a scream of undiluted lagomorph rage, then turned on the bear. He hurled himself at Harry, whaling away at the bear’s thick, hairy legs. Harry looked at him, startled, but let the rabbit vent his fury.

After a couple moments, Angel had worn himself out. He stepped back and looked Harry in the eye. He had to lean back quite a lot to do so, but the bear was obliging enough to lower his bulk closer to the ground. Angel glared and tapped his foot impatiently.

Harry whined softly and gestured to the stairs.

Angel gave a tight scowl. He was not fond of his private time being interrupted. On the other paw, if there was a legitimate problem while the cottage was under his command, he might never get to reign in here again. He sighed and hopped quickly to the stairs, Harry plodding along behind him.

At the top, he glanced around. Nothing was burning, nor was there blood, or intruders, or even broken glass. He glowered at the bear and tried to hop back downstairs, but Harry gave a warning growl and nodded to Fluttershy’s bedroom.

This was enough to give the rabbit pause. Poking the bear was one thing, but his Mistress was a horse of a different color. Even beyond saving his own skin, he hated to see Fluttershy upset. So, with his luckiest foot forward, he kicked open the door. Birds fluttered around the room, the same ones he’d frightened away earlier. They seemed to be busily constructing nests out of fabric. Angel scratched his head. He might not want the birds in there, but he doubted Fluttershy would have such qualms. He turned to Harry once more. The bear groaned and rolled his eyes, then nodded at the table. The table with the suit. The suit that Fluttershy had been refitting to wear tonight. The suit that was now little more than scraps of navy cloth and thread and occasional bird doings.

Angel went grey. Then, quickly recovering himself, he leapt up on the table and gave the loudest scream that a rabbit could, thumping his feet to wake the dead. Of course, given that he only weighed about as much as two apples, that wasn’t as loud or menacing as he would’ve liked. However, he did have something of a reputation around the cottage. The birds, wisely, fled.

Angel made a rude gesture at the retreating flock. Then, he turned to examine the room in greater detail. They had been everywhere. Nests on the bed, in the eaves, on the lamp, scraps of fabric torn and scattered like horrible, day-ruining confetti. Angel set his head in his paws and took in a deep breath. Alright. This could be fixed, probably. He just needed some time…

He looked up. Fluttershy was coming up the path. Silently, he cursed the fates, then frantically glanced around the desk. He needed a way to fix this, or else a way to stall for time. He fixed upon a piece of thick paper that had been placed on the desk some two days ago. He seized it and hopped out the door, much to Harry’s disapproval. Angel all but flew down the stairs and met Fluttershy as she was coming in. “Oh, goodness, Angel. You startled me.”

He was the absolute picture of cringing apology, all but bowing and scraping. Was she alright, how was her trip, was she feeling tired?

Fluttershy frowned. “Angel? Is something the matter?”

What? No. Nonononono. He shook his head vigorously.

Fluttershy fluffed out her wings, scrutinizing him closely. Then, she winced and arched her back like a cat. “Goodness, I must have overdone it today,” she said. “All the bending down for sticks hasn’t been very good for my back.”

That was all the cue Angel needed. In an instant, he produced the free massage coupon, shoving it in Fluttershy’s face. She blinked and went cross-eyed as she tried to read it, taking it from the rabbit’s paw. “A massage does sound nice,” she admitted. Upstairs, the floor creaked as the bear shifted his weight. Fluttershy frowned and glanced at the ceiling. Angel leaned over and tapped the coupon again, then pointed as his chest with his best I’ll-take-care-of-this-no-need-to-worry face.

Fluttershy gave Angel a firm gaze, not quite a Stare, but something which suggested that could be in the immediate future. “Angel Bunny, you wouldn’t be hiding something from me, would you?”

The rabbit shook his head rapidly, then put his paws together and twisted his ears into a halo. Fluttershy quirked up her lips. “Okay, then. I’ll be back in an hour and a half, so you can use that time to clean up… whatever mess you haven’t made.”

The rabbit gave her a bright, plastic smile and waved a paw in farewell and dismissal. She gave him a knowing half-smile, then trotted out the door. His smile turned queasy, then dropped altogether as he spun and ran upstairs. He had ninety minutes to learn how to sew.

Sunday Afternoon

Starlight pushed her way past Davenport, leaving Quills and Sofas despite his frenetic offers for a buy-one-get-one-free sale on cushions. She had to finish the rest of her errands, after all, and she could hardly do that lugging around a great heavy sofa. Davenport ran out after her, shouting about false economies and trade until he was distracted by a more prospective customer.

She made her way down the road towards Carousel Boutique. She was anxious to see Rarity again and apologize for last night’s rudeness. Sure, Rarity might have been a little thoughtless when she made two irreconcilable plans, but she had been good enough to lend Spike her bed. Everypony could be a little thoughtless every now and again. That was no reason to leap down their throats, Starlight told herself.

Although, wasn’t she sticking up for a friend? Wasn’t that a good thing? And she had been trying to teach Rarity a lesson about not letting your friends down, which was something Twilight did all the time anyway. Should she apologize for that? She thought not!

***

Button adjusted his binoculars. “He just did a barrel roll, followed by a sharp dive and a flick of the ear.”

Dinky paged through the reference book. “Starlight is having an internal debate,” she read out. “Well, what else is new?”

***

Starlight huffed lightly. Lesson or not, she shouldn’t have been so snappish. She would apologize for that, but stress that Rarity should remember her responsibilities to fulfil her promises. That ought to be an acceptable compromise, shouldn’t it? She caught her reflection in a shop window as she passed, and she stopped abruptly.

Starlight Glimmer was many things. She was not, however, subtle. She didn’t so much wear her heart on her sleeve as put it on a sandwich board and parade around downtown. She and Twilight both theorized that this constant undercurrent of powerful emotion was what made her such a potent spellcaster. However, it did have its downsides. Her mane was frizzed, her jaw was set, and she generally looked like she wanted to punch somepony in the throat. Glancing around, she realized that nopony else was walking beside her. They had all crossed to the other side of the street. All except one colt, currently looking very interested in a shop window down the road.

She shook her head and took a minute to fix her mane in the window and calm down. There was nothing to be upset about, was there? Rarity was a friend. Spike was also a friend. Both of them were also one another’s friends, and they weren’t going to fall out over a little thing like this. She took in a deep breath and let it out slowly, tension leaving her withers.

Satisfied with her appearance, Starlight continued down the road. She just felt so protective of Spike. Twilight’s habit of treating him like a hybrid son and little brother had rubbed off on her pupil. She knew, intellectually, that he was officially an adult by pony standards. In terms of cynicism, he must have been about middle-aged. Nevertheless, she looked at him and saw a child to protect. The outside did not, perhaps, match the inside very well; no child could do the kind of work Spike had done yesterday, or the work he did every day for that matter. However, she still slipped into that same old trap.

***

“He’s started on an epic air guitar solo.”

“Blues or country?”

“Uh, I can’t tell.”

“Well, that means either Starlight’s started another magical catastrophe, or she’s internally monologuing. Which is it?”

“The second one, probably?”

Dinky grunted and slumped forwards over the book. “At least a magical catastrophe would liven things up.”

***

Starlight arrived at the Carousel Boutique and tried to push open the door. ‘Tried’, however, was the operative word. The sign in the window read ‘closed’, all the lights were off, and the door was latched tight. Starlight huffed. She had to get in to pick up Twilight’s dress for the diplomatic affair. She glowered at the door, seriously considering just teleporting through to the shop.

No. Save that as a last resort. The police probably wouldn’t look too kindly on her tripping the magical alarm system Twilight had installed on the building. Plan B, then. She trotted around the boutique to the back entrance. Success! It wasn’t even locked. She loved it in Ponyville, but sometimes she couldn’t help but wonder if the ponies here were too trusting for their own good.

She trotted quickly through the kitchen. The pantry door hung open, revealing almost-empty shelves. Small wonder Rarity had gone out if she had to do all that shopping. Then, she entered the store itself.

Carousel Boutique was extremely creepy with all the lights out. Layers of gauze and fine fabric smothered the sunlight, sending the room into artificial dusk. The dresses and suits seemed to move in an unfelt breeze, almost bringing new meaning to ‘breathable fabric.’ Worst of all were the dress-forms themselves. Pale, eyeless faces stared out at her from among the hanging fabrics like lions peering through tall grass.

Starlight shuddered and hurried forth to the counter, where Rarity kept her finished orders for easy access. She bent to look at the shelf, flipping through layers of fabric to find the dress she was searching for. That was when she heard the noise.

It was very quiet, and quite regular. A sort of sktchsktchsktchsktchsktch, like a gnawing rodent, or a very large termite. She glanced around, looking for the source, then rose from behind the desk and trotted along the wall of the shop. The noise grew louder.

Sktchsktchsktchsktchsktch. She was getting closer, she could tell. The chewing noise was growing steadily more clear. By the sound off it, it was too big to be an insect, or even a rat, not unless it was the size of Rarity’s cat. The notion of a cat-sized rat sent a shudder down Starlight’s spine, and she thought of a few good offensive spells to use if it came to a confrontation.

Sktchsktchsktchsktchsktch. Celestia’s tits, did it never stop? It must have teeth as sharp and tough as needles to make such a sound, and jaws working like a machine to keep it up so long. Outside an unassuming wooden door, she stopped. The noise was coming right from the other side.

Sktchsktchsktchsktchsktch. Starlight took in a breath to steady her nerves.

Sktchsktchsktchsktchsktch. She lit her horn.

Sktchsktchsktchsktchsktch. She put a hoof on the door.

Sktchsktchskt-- She froze, not even daring to breathe as a new bevy of fears overwhelmed her mind. Had it heard her? Did it know where she was? Was it even now preparing to attack? She took a step back from the door.

There was a long pause. Her spit was as dust. Every muscle tensed. Sktchsktchsktchsktchsktch. She let out a quiet sigh of relief. Then, “HAI!” she shouted, blasting the door open.

Rarity screamed. Starlight screamed. There was a moment of silence, both mares working their mouths silently as they worked through their shock. Starlight recovered first. “Rarity? What are you doing here?”

Rarity sputtered into life with indignation. “I happen to live here, Starlight Glimmer! What, might I ask, are you doing here?”

Starlight was wronghoofed. “I, uh, came to pick up Twilight’s dress for her.”

“And that means barging in on me, gung ho and horn ablaze?” Rarity asked, voice rising.

“I thought I heard something, like a rat. Something, something chewing!”

Rarity gave Starlight a long, flat look. Then, she turned her sewing machine on. Sktchsktchsktchsktchsktch.

“Oh.” Starlight shuffled her hooves. “Oops?”

“Hmph,” Rarity huffed. “You’re here quite early for the dress. I thought you were meant to pick it up around two.”

“Rarity, it’s two-fifteen.”

“Nonsense, darling, it’s only…” Rarity glanced up at the wall clock, then went very still. “Oh dear. I must have lost track of time.” She rose quickly from her work table. “I must get to the market, I have a great deal of food to pick up, and then make dinner for Sweetie Belle tonight while I’m on my date…”

“Rarity, the dress.”

“What? Oh, yes, let me get that for you.” Rarity pushed past Starlight and into the shop, flicking on a couple of lights along the way.

“So, you’re going on a date?”

“With Lotus, yes. I was quite surprised, but not at all displeased. We’re going to Grazie, you know, the new Neightalian place on the other side of town?”

“Oh. Good luck.”

“Thank you, darling.” Rarity pulled a plastic-wrapped garment from underneath the counter.

Starlight caught her breath. “Is that the new fabric you wanted to show Twilight? It’s beautiful.”

Rarity smiled. “Yes, it does rather suit her, does it not? That should be the role of a dress, you know. To fit a wearer well enough as to appear seamless between body and cloth, between nature and art. The appearance is paramount, after all.”

Starlight gave a nervous grin. “Well, I didn’t think the main point would be the smell.”

“Smell?” Rarity sniffed. “I don’t smell anything. What are you talking about, darling?”

“No, I was saying--”

“It’s not the intention behind it, nor the emotion that matters in life, it seems. Much as I’d like for it to be the thought that counts, there are so many others that feel differently.” Rarity stared at the dress, seemingly hypnotized by its beautiful, shimmering colors. “Perhaps it is irony that we are judged more for wearing the wrong clothes than we are for wearing no clothes at all…”

“Are we still talking about the dress?”

Rarity blinked back to the present. “I do apologize, darling. I hadn’t realized how I was rambling. I’ve just had a great deal on my mind, of late.”

Starlight gave her a worried smile. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“No, no, it’s nothing I’d wish to concern you with. Merely an idle fancy.” She laughed, and warm though it was, Starlight felt it was forced.

“Alright. If you change your mind…”

“I know where you live,” Rarity concluded with a smile. “Thank you dear. As I said, I feel it is the thought that counts, is it not?”

Starlight didn’t remember her monologue being exactly like that. However, she decided that discretion was the better part of valor. “The check should be in tomorrow,” was her only reply as she took the dress and laid it across her back. “See you, Rarity. Good luck on your date.”

Rarity waved as Starlight unlocked the front door and trotted out into the sun again. Then, she turned away. “Shopping,” she murmured, trotting purposefully towards the kitchen to formulate a list. However, as she passed by the door to her sewing room, she hesitated. The client would be picking it up later today. Perhaps she had better finish, first?

No, that was how she’d wasted half the day already. She was very nearly finished; she could go and do her big shop, then hurry back and finish up the final stitches in plenty off time.

She hurried off, leaving the door to the room ajar, and leaving the almost-finished suit in plain view of the shop.

***

Spike stumbled down the road. Nothing seemed quite real right now. It was as though he could stick out a claw and find that, say, that market stall, was no less yielding than a rainbow, or a fogbank. He did so. His claw met hard wood. Well, so much for that theory.

“Uh, Spike, sugarcube?”

Spike glanced up. Applejack was leaning over the edge of her stand, peering at him with concern. “Y’all alright, there?”

“Fine,” Spike replied. “Just a little frazzled.”

“An’ Ah’m pretty okay at farmin’. Sit down, rest yerself.”

Spike did as he was told, and Applejack studied him closely. “Get enough sleep last night?”

“Not really.”

“Eat a good breakfast this mornin’?”

“I kinda got interrupted midway through.”

“Had a good last few days?”

“They were a little bit stressful.”

Applejack nodded philosophically. “Know what you need?”

“A nap?”

“That too,” she agreed. “But fer now, have a candy apple on th’ house.”

Spike took the proffered treat listlessly, then fumbled around and pulled out a few bits. “On th’ house, Ah said.”

Spike shrugged. “Twilight told me I should go buy a treat, and she told me first. C’mon, take it.”

Applejack huffed, but swept the bits into the till. “So, what happened?”

“Magic lessons,” Spike said simply. “I tried too hard and nearly melted a wall.”

“Melted?”

“Well, I charred it a little,” Spike allowed. “Semantics.”

“Uh-huh,” Applejack said, only slightly lost. “So, what, ya overdid it?”

A vision flashed through Spike’s mind; Ponyville in flames, houses stomped into the ground, wild stampedes as the Everfree burned… “Yeah. You know how I get when I overdo it.”

Applejack nodded wisely, though she was thinking of baked bads, rabbit stampedes, failed stunts, and a half-asleep farmer mare. “Never wise. Ya gotta take some time fer yerself, or you’ll go crazier than a box full of bullfrogs.”

Spike took a bite of candy apple. It was good. He perked up a little. “So, the well’s working alright now?”

“Yep. Thanks again fer th’ help the other day.”

“It was nothing.”

Applejack scoffed. “It certainly was not! You were a big help, Spike, so don’t go sellin’ yerself short. Bein’ humble’s good an’ all, but sometimes, ya gotta be big.”

Spike stopped in mid-bite, his face turning slightly more purple than usual as he choked on the candy apple. “Uh-oh,” Applejack said before quickly turning him around and giving him a tight squeeze from behind, once, twice, three times.

The offending bite shot out of Spike’s mouth and fell to the ground. He groaned, taking in a deep breath. “Thanks, Applejack. You saved my life.”

“Weren’t nothin’,” she said dismissively. Then, she paused. “Uh, that is ta say, yer welcome.”

Spike smirked slightly. “So, I guess under noble dragon code, that means I--”

Applejack raised a brow. Spike stopped midsentence. “That’s the thing, though,” he continued. “Whenever I try to be, y’know, something special, ponies around me get hurt. I tried to save Rarity from the Diamond Dogs, I tried to be in a life-debt to you, I tried to run Twilight’s castle. They all ended in disaster. Then there was my… birthday.” He shook his head. “Nah. I think I’ll stay small for now, thanks.”

“Crystal Empire?” Applejack returned. “Defeat of Sombra, hero of th’ Empire… ringin’ any bells?”

Spike looked away. “That’s different. They’re far away enough for it not to get to my head.”

Applejack sighed. “Well, it’s your choice,” she said.

Spike rose from his seat. “I feel better now. Thanks, Applejack.”

“No problem, sugarcube,” she said as the little dragon waddled back towards the castle. She looked thoughtful for a moment, then cupped her hooves over her mouth. “Hey, Spike!”

He turned back. “Jes’ remember. All things in moderation. Including moderation!”

He grinned weakly and waved before turning around again and crossing the road. She turned away for a moment to sell an apple pie, and when she glanced back again, he had gone.

***

Ditzy was resting at home; her morning mail route was over, and it would be about an hour before she had to make her evening rounds. She’d curled up with a good book on thermodynamics, and was anticipating a quiet afternoon.

That expectation was utterly shattered by a sharp knock at the door. She put down her book warily and trotted to the door. She wasn’t expecting visitors, and the Crusaders tended not to knock so much as barge. Had her academic rivals at the university found her out at last? Had one of her sister’s enemies tracked her down? Or was it just somepony here to complain about her daughter and the other Crusaders?

She peered through the gauzy curtains in the foyer as best she could. She could make out a shadow with a horn, but that was all. She sighed. Better to face whoever it was head-on. She flung open the door. “Oh. Hi, Twilight!”

Her visitor’s face twisted into a sort of rictus grin. “Hello, Ditzy. How’ve you been?”

“Oh, keeping,” she replied with a vague wave of the hoof. “Would you like to come inside?”

Twilight’s grimace lessened slightly. It was hard to be angry around Ditzy. She possessed a natural buoyancy that seemed to lighten even the heaviest of burdens. Though, the one time somepony had told her that, they had received a very interesting two-hour lecture on what buoyancy actually was and why Ditzy didn’t have that much more than an average pony really. She had a brilliant mind, Twilight reflected, but she could be distressingly literal. “Thank you, but no,” she said. “Is Dinky here?”

Ditzy deflated. “Oh. I suppose it was a little optimistic to think this was a social call. What’s she done?”

Twilight took a deep breath. “I can’t be certain,” she said, “but somepony stole a boxful of magic-damping crystals from my basement and replaced them with ordinary gravel. Dinky was passing through the castle talking about her geology specimens.”

Ditzy rubbed her muzzle. “Hm,” she said, staring off into the distance.

After a few minutes, Twilight waved a hoof in front of Ditzy’s crossed eyes. “Are you okay, Ditzy?”

She blinked back to life. “Sorry, just drifted off there. You know how it is.”

Twilight frowned. “I understand. You have been remembering to take your pills?”

“Oh, yes,” Ditzy agreed breezily. “Dinky’s always sure to double-check on that. But to answer your question, no, she’s not around. She went out Crusading early this morning, and hasn’t been back since.”

“I was afraid you’d say that. I don’t suppose you know what they were trying to do?”

“Not in any real detail, no. But yesterday, Dinky was asking me some unusual questions about her father. Her birth father,” she added quickly. “She didn’t mention Ponet, and I didn’t bring him up.”

Twilight’s frown deepened, grew more thoughtful. “What, specifically, did she ask?”

Ditzy chuckled briefly. “When I knew that I was in love with him. Maybe that’s why she didn’t mention Ponet. She still can’t quite make herself believe I ever loved him.”

Twilight eyed the other mare. “You’re trying to soften me up so I won’t be as mad at your daughter, aren’t you?”

Ditzy looked up, half-grinning.“Is it working?”

“You never mention Ponet if you can help it.”

Ditzy laughed, loud and earnest. “Alright, you got me. I’m a manipulative old mare. But really, don’t go too hard on her. I’ll make sure she understands that stealing is wrong, don’t worry.”

Twilight’s frown dissolved. “Okay, fine. I won’t lecture her harder than any of the others, fair?”

“Perfectly,” Ditzy replied warmly. “Are you sure you can’t stay for a cup of tea and a muffin?”

Twilight shook her head. “No, thanks. Those crystals could be dangerous if the Crusaders aren’t careful. I’d like to get them back before they happen to anypony.”

Ditzy looked rather grave, suddenly. “Dangerous? How?”

Twilight backpedaled. “Well, it isn’t very likely, of course. But you know, if they pass too near somepony casting a powerful spell, or flying very fast, or something, that could pose a problem. And if the crystals absorb too much magic, they’re liable to explode.” She caught sight of Ditzy’s stricken expression and hastily continued, “But that’s almost impossible to generate. If, say, Starlight and I were to just bombard the crystals with magic, we might be able to pull it off, but even then it would take awhile, and living beings just can’t handle that kind of strain for that long. We don’t have to worry about anything exploding.”

***

Meanwhile, in the restaurant Grazie, the soup chef frowned at the stovetop. Head Chef Tiramasu had been casting glances in his direction for some time now, and she was starting to wonder what was taking him so long.

“Something the matter, Minestrone?” she asked, trotting over.

He shook his head. “I don’t get it,” he said. “I’ve had the stove up as high as it can go for almost ten minutes, and the broth is hardly even simmering. It’s barely warm!”

Tiramasu frowned and held her hoof close to the pot. Closer. Closer still. She was touching it now, and indeed, she could barely feel any heat coming off it. She scowled thoughtfully. “Must be a problem with the power,” she decided. “Hey, Spaghetti Oh!”

The busboy glanced up, surprised at being addressed directly by the head chef. She nodded to the door to the boiler room. “Go and turn up the furnace, huh? We’re only getting a trickle of power!”

He nodded quickly and galloped through the door. Tiramasu sighed. “I dunno. They say modern technology is good, saves us having to get a unicorn in just to power the kitchen. They say the generator’s got enough magic power in it to stun an alicorn! But does it get the food cooked?”

Minestrone nodded, only half-listening. The flames under his soup were not confidence-inspiring. If anything, they looked smaller than before.

***

Starlight was halfway to the stationery shop when she found herself bowled over for the second time that day. “Hey, Miss Glimmer! Miss Glimmer! Miss Glimmer!”

The unicorn blinked, gazing up at the sky for a moment before peering up to see Scootaloo bouncing over her, grinning from ear to ear. “Gah,” Starlight said eruditely.

“You’ll never guess what I just found!”

“Erk.”

“It’s really cool!”

“Ook!”

Scootaloo stopped bouncing and peered down at her. “Aren’t you even gonna guess?”

“I will-- as soon as-- you get off-- my chest!” Starlight wheezed.

“Oh. Oops.” Scootaloo climbed off the mare, who gasped for air. “Sorry. Now c’mon, come and see! It’s really really cool!”

She bounced off, leaving Starlight, still winded, to peel herself off the ground and chase after her. She could feel the grass stains in her coat as she half-limped, half-jogged along. Whatever it was had better be cool, she thought grimly. She’d done more research into sleep spells, and she wasn’t above using them on overexcited fillies.

After a few minutes of jogging, Starlight caught up to Scootaloo, who was bouncing in place in front of a door behind some restaurant. “Well?” Starlight demanded. “What is it?”

Scootaloo grinned hugely. “It’s downstairs. Go on, you’ll know it when you see it!”

Starlight glared at the filly for a moment. “Fine,” she huffed, starting down the stairs. She had only gotten halfway when she heard the door slam shut behind her, followed by the scrape of a key in the lock.

“Wait, what?” Starlight spun around and pounded up the stairs. “Scootaloo, this isn’t funny, let me out!”

“Keep yer britches on,” said a voice that was not Scootaloo’s. “This is fer yer own good.”

Starlight swallowed the urge to curse out a filly. “Apple Bloom, what the Tartarus do you think you’re doing? Let me out of here right now, or I’ll make sure you’re both grounded for a year.”

“Don’t worry. You’ll be gettin’ some company real soon,” Bloom assured her, chuckling grimly. There was the sound of hoofsteps, fading slowly away.

Starlight glowered at the door. They wanted to play that game? Alright, fine. Sharpsand’s Shattering would put paid to this door quickly enough. She lit her horn and blasted the door. The spell, however, flew off in a different direction altogether, sucked off into a corner. She gawped for a second, then screwed up her face and tried again, inclining her head a few degrees to the left. The spell flew off and hit the wall, where it disappeared utterly.

Starlight scowled. She wasn’t going to give up that easily.

Behind her, attached to the furnace, a piece of crystal had begun to glow with an unearthly octarine glow…

***

Fluttershy pushed open the spa door. It was quiet at the moment; the busiest time was right after the workday had ended and a majority-earth pony crowd descended on the spa heck-bent for pampering. However, on the weekends, most ponies had better ways to occupy themselves.

Neither Aloe nor Lotus was at the desk. Instead, Fluttershy recognized the new mare from the other day. “Oh, um, good morning, Jasmine.”

The pale green mare glanced up from her books and offered a hesitant smile. “Ah, hello, Miz… Butterfly?”

“Fluttershy,” she corrected gently. “I’m here to redeem this?” She passed over the coupon, and Jasmine frowned.

“I did not know we had coupons,” she murmured. She took a closer look, and her eyebrows rose. “I certainly did not know we did that!”

She glanced up at Fluttershy. “I will go and get Miz Aloe,” she said before hurrying off.

Fluttershy settled in to wait. For a moment, she wondered what Angel had done for him to be so insistent she come here. She shook her head. No. She was here to relax, not fret over what mischief he might have gotten up to this time. She trusted him to have it all cleaned up by the time she was home.

***

Angel stared at the pile of scraps before him and despaired. Those bird-brains had ruined the suit, torn it to shreds! The largest piece was smaller than he was! There was no way he could fix it in time. Not alone, anyway.

Not alone. But he wasn’t alone, was he? Fluttershy had left him in charge, and that meant he had underlings.

He turned to Harry, his bearing like a general before his troops. The bear eyed him and gave a grudging grunt before plodding off to rally the army.

***

Aloe arrived a few moments later, her practiced smile slightly forced. “I see my sister finally got around to giving you that coupon,” she said, nodding stiffly. “And you are redeeming it today?”

“Oh, yes,” Fluttershy replied. “I’m going out tonight, and I want to feel relaxed enough to enjoy myself.”

“Of course,” Aloe muttered. “Vell, if you vill just follow me, I vill give you your massage.”

She turned abruptly, and Fluttershy hurried after her. Jasmine watched them go, confused. All Aloe had said was that the best laid plans often went astray before hurrying off to the foyer. Ponies in this town, she reflected as she turned back to the waiting room, were crazy.

***

Angel watched the assembled animals at their labors. The spiders provided the thread, naturally, though the thin strands had to be woven together. The beavers had built a loom for that very purpose. The raccoons, with their clever little paws, had puzzled together the pieces of the suit, and a flock of various birds was stitching it all back together, helped by the porcupines sticking the finished pieces to the floor. Slowly but surely, the suit was coming together.

***

Fluttershy felt her spine turn to jelly under Aloe’s magical hooves. “So,” the masseuse said. “Vhere are you going out?”

“Grazie,” Fluttershy sighed. “Discord-- ooh! Wants me to go with a friend of theirs.”

“Vhat a coincidence! Miz Rarity and my sister are going on a date there zis very evening.”

“Hmm,” Fluttershy sighed. “Yes, I heard as much. Maybe we’ll run into one another there.”

Aloe frowned. This was not the reaction she had expected. Maybe the massage was cancelling out the stress of knowing one’s marefriend or crush or whatever was dating somepony else. She laid it on thicker.

“Perhaps so. I hope ze date goes vell, do you not? It vould be so nice to see zem togezzer.”

“Mmm, mhm,” Fluttershy sighed, practically molding to Aloe’s magic touch.

Curse these hooves! They’re too relaxing! Aloe frowned. Well, no matter. It would all come to a head at the restaurant. She would make sure of that. She pulled back, and Fluttershy peered up at her. “Aren’t you meant to give me a happy ending?”

Aloe stalled. “One moment, please.”

***

Angel studied the suit as Harry held it up to the fading afternoon light, paw rubbing his jaw, foot tapping thoughtfully as he examined. Nearly perfect. What was it missing?

The assembled animals watched with bated breath. Angel straightened and smacked his paws together. He snatched some flowers away from a scurry of squirrels and rifled through them. Rose? No. Lily? No. Tulip, carnation, cornflower… aha!

Tossing the others aside, he hopped up with the chosen decoration and shoved it through the buttonhole. The others stared. After a moment, they burst into hoots and howls and squeaks of approval. Angel glanced up smugly at the dandelion that so completed the suit and buffed his paw against his chest.

And if the howls of the wolves that had been sent to stand guard were any indication, they had all finished just in time. Fluttershy was on the road up to the cottage.

Angel squeaked for them all to scatter. They scattered in a great yelping stampede that would only occur in nature under threat of a forest fire. Angel took one last look over the suit, giving the sleeve a firm tug. The spider silk, stronger than its equivalent thickness in steel, did not break. Angel nodded, satisfied, and hopped downstairs to greet his mistress.

He opened the door to see Fluttershy coming up the path, giggling as the wolves dogged her sides and nuzzled her wings. “Alright, Lysander. Down, Bigby. Good girl, Lupa, but no licking please. I’m already all clean for my date.”

The wolves fell away as Fluttershy’s gaze fell on Angel. She smiled at him thoughtfully, the sort of smile that says, I know you’ve been naughty, but you cleaned it up yourself, and I still love you. She had very expressive eyes.

Angel gave his most winning grin, asking with his eyes if she had had a nice time at the spa. He had very expressive eyes as well.

“Oh, yes, it was very nice. I finally found out what a happy ending is!”

“...Ent then Squirrelly ze Squirrel went ‘neep, neep, neep,” ent they all lived happily ever after in ze old oak tree.”

Fluttershy nibbled a cookie from underneath her blanket. “That was a very happy ending, Aloe, thank you.”

“Ve pride ourselves on service here.”

He nodded and ushered her inside. He bowed deeply, gesturing to the stairs. Fluttershy trotted past, giving him a gauging look. However, she made her way upstairs, into her room. “Oh, Angel Bunny! Did you do this?”

Angel grinned up at the pegasus and nodded. There was a soft cough from behind him, and he turned to see Harry the Bear, the squirrels, the spiders, the birds, the raccoons, the beavers, Watson the Cricket, and a swarm of bees staring down at him.

He sighed and gestured to the pack. “All of you?” Fluttershy asked, incredulous. “Oh, thank you, all of you! I didn’t know how I was going to get it done in time.” She looked it over. “The dandelion is a nice touch,” she said. “Oh, Angel, I’m sorry if I ever doubted you.”

The rabbit waved his paw in a ‘go on,’ sort of gesture. Then he noticed Fluttershy was looking away. No, really. Go on. Sing my praises.

“Alright. I’ll get everyone’s dinner real quick, then I’m off to dinner myself. Angel, for doing such a good job, I’m leaving you in charge again.”

If Angel grinned any wider, he was in serious danger of chopping off the top of his own head. But as Fluttershy left, he couldn’t help but return his attention to the suit. It would be a shame to have put all that work in for nothing. Maybe he’d just tag along and make sure the date went well. And if he managed to sneak a few roast greens or something off a fellow diner’s plate, well, that would just be the icing on the carrot cake.

***

A peryton poked her head through the door of the Carousel Boutique. It’s fortunate that nopony was looking at her too closely. It can be rather distressing to see one duck their head through a locked door as though it were no more resistant than a bucket of water.

Seeing nopony, Eris went inside anyway. “Oi, Rarity! Rarity! Ra-ra sis-boom-bah!”

No reply. Eris sighed and let herself dissolve back into Discord. “Thank chaos,” they muttered. “That voice was murder on the throat.”

With a snap of the claw, the shop’s lights turned on. Because it was Discord, of course, the light they cast was a deep shade of puce that cast hideously clashing salmon-colored shadows. They picked through the outfits behind the desk which were delightfully disordered. Uncharacteristic of the proprietor, Discord supposed, but they weren’t about to complain.

They might, however, complain about the lack of the desired suit. They scowled, glancing around the shop. Nothing, nothing, nothing… they supposed they could always snap up a suit of their own, but they had seen Rarity’s prowess. Chaos could probably make an objectively better outfit. It could certainly make a more complex one. She was an artist as much as Discord was, and Fluttershy seemed to prefer her work. So Discord had swallowed their pride for once and without even a glass of water to wash it down, too, and where did that get him? She wasn’t even here!

A piece of lime green caught their eye, though it was more discolored than ever thanks to the altered lighting. They strolled over to the door and picked up the garment. Almost finished, but not quite. A few buttons were still missing, and the shirtsleeves weren’t yet attached. Unfortunate. Discord needed this suit, now, so they could go and finish setting up the groundwork for the perfect evening out, but going to dinner in an unfinished suit was… probably not the best way to put Fluttershy at ease with ‘Eris’.

Of course, the suit was mostly done. Just needed a few finishing touches, and Rarity had done more or less everything…

Discord snapped their fingers, and their frown twisted into a grin as the suit flew together. It was a tad orderly for their magic generally, but they made up for it by having the buttons fly into place to Flight of the Bumblebee.

In a single fluid motion, Discord slipped into the suit and the ‘Eris’ persona, leaving a pretty brown doe in the brightest green suit in the world, looking oddly right under the puce light. She looked herself over with a rather smug smirk, then vanished in a puff of air that smelled of garlic buttercream frosting.

***

Starlight slumped against the coolest wall of the boiler room. It was the sort of humidity that made manes frizz and flesh stick to itself uncomfortably. She didn’t know how long she’d been down here. Three hours? Four? Five, spent utterly alone and with only the obscenely muggy air for company?

One ear flicked lazily upwards as she heard a faint click. Some piece of machinery turning on again, surely. But then, voices! “Sweetie Belle, why are we here again?”

A girlish giggle. “Go on, you’ll see…”

Starlight struggled to pull herself upright, though her limbs were weak from heat exhaustion and dehydration. “Spike?” she gasped, loudly as she could.

There was a silence you could cut with a knife as Starlight staggered into the light and glared up the stairs. Spike stood frozen on the stairs, nonplussed. Behind him, Sweetie Belle completed the tableau, one hoof on the door.

With a scream of incoherent rage, Starlight cast a freezing spell towards the filly. Ironically enough, that was what galvanized her into action, slamming the door and locking it as Starlight’s spell was drawn off and absorbed by a patch of wall. They were in darkness and silence once more.

Spike scratched his head. “So, uh, I was told there was cake.”

Starlight let out a groan that shook the walls.

Sunday Night

Fluttershy arrived at the restaurant promptly at six, though the reservation had been placed for six-thirty. She didn’t want to be late, after all; think of how rude that would be! It was quite an upscale place, and she wondered why she’d never noticed such a large, impressive building in the middle of Ponyville before. It seemed to have been carved from a single block, turning into arches and pillars and wide, far-reaching awnings that shielded candlelit outdoor tables from the fading evening light. It was slightly intimidating at first, but she could see familiar faces in the crowd; there were Thunderlane and Flitter, gazing into each other’s eyes over a plate of spaghetti. Over there, Cheerilee was enjoying a side salad. Against the far wall, Lyra was ranting at a waiter about how it was perfectly normal for two good friends to go out together and why does everything have to be romantic anyway and yes of course she would like some more Parmesan, but that’s not the point, the point is back me up Bonbon, Bonbon why are you hiding behind that menu?

Well, if all that was good enough for this fancy upscale restaurant that really had no place being in Ponyville, she would be good enough too. She pushed open the door and was met with a rotund and mustachioed stallion. “Ciao, mademoiselle! How are you this evening?”

Fluttershy squeaked slightly and shied away. The stallion looked for all the world like some strange version of Pinkie Pie. Sure, he was considerably older, and not at all pink, or female, but there was something in his bright green eyes… “Um, I’m fine, thank you. How are you?”

“Most well, thank you for asking. Now, have you a reservation?”

“Oh, dear. Well, I think I do, but I don’t know whose name it would be in… Could you check under ‘Discord’?”

The maitre’d flipped through his thick book of names and times, his thick brows like kissing caterpillars. “Yes, there is a reservation for that name. Your pardon; I will go and see if the table is free.”

He stuck a towel over his left forehoof and pronked away. Fluttershy glanced around once more and spied another familiar face. “Oh, hello, Rarity!”

The unicorn blinked and turned away from her study of the flowers. “Oh, good evening, Fluttershy. Are you waiting on your date as well?”

Fluttershy nodded, then paused and shook her head. “I just arrived a little early,” she expounded. “I suppose my table isn’t ready yet.”

Rarity hummed and glanced around. “I don’t see Eris hanging around, either.”

Fluttershy brightened. “Oh, that’s right, you’ve met her! Could you point her out to me when she shows up?”

Rarity blinked. “She’s a deer.”

“Well, I’m sure she’s a dear, but that doesn’t help me find her.”

“No, darling. A deer. As in, ‘Doe, a”.”

“Oh. I see.”

“You can imagine she might stand out a tad, can’t you?”

Fluttershy looked around the restaurant. Zecora had turned up and was chatting with Cheerilee and an elderly blue thestral that Fluttershy didn’t recognize. Daisy Jo and Bossie were gossiping over a bottle of dandelion wine. A pair of ewes seemed to be arguing classical religion with a grouchy griffon. “I suppose so,” she replied, doubtful. “But you know what I mean. What’s she like?”

Rarity scrunched up her face. “Well, you can certainly see why she’s friends with Discord. Rather irreverent, and a bit raucous as well.” She glanced at Fluttershy and saw the shadow of worry that crossed her face. “Oh, but she was very intelligent,” she hastily added. “And, er, she seemed quite eager for this to all go well…”

“Oh.” Fluttershy muttered. “Good.”

“I can’t imagine where my date’s gotten to,” Rarity continued lightly. “I’ve never known Lotus to be anything but punctual.”

“Perhaps she was caught up at the spa?”

“Hm. Perhaps. At least we’re waiting together.”

They lapsed into silence. There didn’t seem to be much to say, suddenly. Each of them was wrapped up in their own anxieties. “A tad chilly in here,” Rarity observed. “Wish I’d worn a heavier dress.”

***

Down in the boiler room, things weren’t somewhat toastier. Starlight had slumped to the coolest wall once more, and was doing her best to cling to the floor. Spike, on the other hoof, was almost completely unaffected. “C’mon, Starlight, we can’t just give up,” he said, struggling with the doorknob again.

“Nh,” Starlight grunted. Spike glanced back and grimaced. She wasn't looking at all well. Sweat had plastered her mane to her forehead, and she hadn't had a drink in… well, neither of them knew how long.

Once more, Spike tried to flame the door down, or teleport it away, or tap into some hidden reserve of magic to eliminate the problem. Once again, his flame was drawn, almost magnetically, to one of the dozens of little crystals taped all around the room.

Between the two of them, they'd tried almost everything, from spells to lockpicking to simple brute force. Nothing worked. Spike slouched over and slumped against the wall next to Starlight, letting her rest her head in his lap. All they could do now was wait for the Crusaders to let them out again.

***

Applejack mopped her brow. The afternoon light had faded into dusk, and she has at last finished pruning the north orchard. It had been a hard day’s work, and she was confident that there wouldn't be a single fallow branch this harvest. Now, though, it was time for supper.

Just as she was setting off to put away the ladder, she caught sight of a little yellow shape weaving through the trees in her direction. She smiled and raised a hoof in greeting. “Don't rush fer me, Bloom,” she called. “Ah'll be in fer supper soon as Ah’ve put away th’ tools.”

Bloom stopped right in front of her sister, almost bouncing in place. “Ah ain't here about dinner, sis!”

Applejack cocked her head, still smiling at the filly. “Well, alright then. What's got you so peppered up?”

Apple Bloom smiled proudly. “Spike an’ Starlight got, uh, ‘stuck’ while they was canoodlin’. Think you could swing by an’ help ‘em out?”

Applejack set the ladder down, forehead creasing. “Well, sure, Ah’d be glad to, iffin Ah can. What's th’ matter?”

Apple Bloom winked. “They got ‘locked in’ in th’ basement of some fancy-schmancy restaurant in town. Think you could bust down th’ door? Mebbe talk some sense into them when they're out?”

Applejack was frowning now. “Bloom, how do you know all this?”

The filly’s grin got even bigger, and she pulled a key out of her mane. “Afore you say anythin’, we know about how Spike started cheatin’ on you with Starlight. Us Crusaders, we worked it all out, an’ thought we'd help ya get a li’l revenge. So, all ya gotta do is rescue ‘em, then you can confront ‘em right in fronta everypony! Or you could let ‘em stew awhile first.”

All the while the filly had been talking, Applejack’s eyes had grown wider and wider, and her mouth gaped further and further. With that last suggestion, though, her face grew as tight and thin as if she had just bitten into a lemon. She ground her teeth. “Apple Bloom. Do you remember that li’l conversation Ah had with you an’ Mac an’ Granny awhile back? Th’ one where Ah told y’all that Ah was gay? How-- Why in Tartarus did you think Ah was datin’ Spike?”

Bloom stopped. “Wait. You mean you were sayin’ you liked fillies? Ah thought you jes’ meant you were in a real good mood!”

Applejack just stared at her little sister for a long, long moment. Apple Bloom glanced down at the key, then up at her sister. “So, uh. ‘Bout what Ah was jes’ tellin’ ya…”

Without another word, Applejack leaned over and grabbed Apple Bloom’s ear between her teeth, then snatched up the key and tucked it in her mane. “Ow! AJ, that hurts! Ow, ow, ow!”

Silently and inexorably, Applejack dragged Apple Bloom back to town, her face like a thunderhead. She wasn't sure if she should be more angry at Bloom for locking two of her friends in a cellar, or for thinking she'd actually leave them there. Both featured prominently in the massive talking-to she was currently composing.

***

Angel Bunny, from his position hidden in the green garlands of plants hanging from the ceiling, stared down at his mistress and her tolerable friend. For the last ten minutes, they had been chatting amiably about nothing in particular. Angel was beginning to grow bored, but he forced himself to remain vigilant.

Rarity perked up suddenly. “Don’t look now, dear, but here she comes!”

Fluttershy went stock-still, eyes like saucers. Rarity frowned. “Dear, when I said ‘don’t look now,’ I didn’t mean it literally.”

“Rarity…” Fluttershy whispered. “I don’t think I can do this…”
Rarity’s frown eased and she placed a hoof on her friend’s shoulder. “You don’t have to stay if you don’t want to,” she said softly. “But I do think you ought to give her a chance.”

“I don’t even know her!” Fluttershy whimpered.

“Well then, just look on this as a chance to make a new friend,” Rarity consoled. “If you need me to help you escape, then pass by my table and knock a fork to the ground. I’ll make a distraction.”

“But what about your date?”

“I’m certain Lotus will understand. For now though, please do try to enjoy yourself, won’t you?”

Fluttershy set her jaw and nodded. Rarity smiled. “Good. Now, turn around, make a new friend, and have a wonderful evening.”

Fluttershy did as she was told, and Angel hopped to his feet, skirting quickly through the garlands of greenery after his mistress, not even sparing Rarity a backwards glance. This date would succeed if it killed him; he had four lucky rabbit feet, and he intended to use them.

***

Rarity started back in surprise at a rustling from overhead, but even craning her neck, she couldn’t see a thing. Cantering backwards to gain a better view, she collided with another. “Oh dear I am sorry-- Lotus! You’re here at last!”

The blue mare grinned sheepishly. She looked quite lovely, Rarity thought. She had never seen the spa owner without the slicked-back mane and sundry accessories of her profession. Her long pink locks fell artfully over her shoulders and one eye. Her dress was a simple, daffodil-yellow affair with white sleeves. She had even painted her hooves the color of her mane. “Sorry I’m late,” she said. “I thought I vould pick you up at ze Boutique and ve could valk here togezzer.”

“Oh, that would have been lovely! I’m terribly sorry, I should have waited.”

Lotus smiled. “It is as vell. Suppose ve vere both vaiting at home for vun anozzer to come by, like a pair of lesbian sheep.”

One of the ewes looked away from her philosophical debate to glare at the mare over her white wine. Lotus winced. “No offence.”

“Well, we’re both here now,” Rarity said quickly. “Shall we find our table?”

She turned and promptly bumped into the maitre’d, still grinning widely. “Mlle. Belle, I think, and Blossom?”

Rarity hesitated, then nodded. “That is correct.”

The stallion’s moustache curled up as his smile grew. “Most excellent! Please, allow me to seat you both.”

There was a moment of confusion. Rarity felt a chair smack against her back legs, and she sat down unceremoniously. Across the table, she saw Lotus’ face lit by candlelight, displaying all the confusion that Rarity felt right now. “Very good!” the maitre’d enthused. “Please, go about your date. I shall slip away in the confusion and return unexpectedly!”

Both mares stared at him, then at each other, befuddled. When they looked back, he had vanished. “Slip avay in ze confusion indeed,” Lotus murmured, shaking her head. “Heh.”

Rarity stared at the recently vacated spot. “Do you suppose he’s any relation to Pinkie?”

Lotus giggled. “All things are pozzible. But let us not dwell on explaining ze inexplicable. How are you?”

Rarity let out a little huff of laughter. “Well, let’s just say that there wasn’t much competition with this evening out for being the highlight of my day and leave it at that.”

“Busy day?”

“You might say that, yes. I spent half the day finishing up a suit that I could have sworn would only have taken half an hour, then spent most of the rest of the day out shopping, having been forced by circumstance to eat cheese and crackers for breakfast.”

Lotus wrinkled her muzzle. “Mind you, it wasn’t actually bad, but it was scarcely a good morning meal,” Rarity concluded. “On the subject of food, what do you think we ought to order?”

Lotus picked up the menu. “Drinks first?”

“A good idea,” Rarity agreed. “A little wine, perhaps? Oh, my, they’ve got Berry Punch’s homemade raspberry rum… could I tempt you to a tipple, darling?”

Lotus hesitated, then grinned. “Oh, vhy not? I so rarely drink, and so rarely date. It should be nice to have a good time tonight.”

“That’s the spirit,” Rarity said warmly. “Now, what about appetizers? I never say no to breadsticks, of course, but I wonder if you’ve ever been introduced to the simple pleasure of stuffed peppers?”

***

Applejack stormed down Ponyville’s main drag, Apple Bloom’s ear still firmly clutched in her teeth. The filly’s siren wail drew stares from pedestrians. Applejack continued grimly on. She had never been fond of physical punishment; it hurt the trust she shared with her sister. On the other hoof, foalnapping two of her friends out of some misguided, disastrous loyalty had already pretty well shattered that trust.

“Applejack!” The farmer’s ears flicked back, but she didn’t stop her progress.

“Applejack, let go of Apple Bloom!”

She glanced back. Twilight was storming down the road towards her. The alicorn’s face was a picture. More specifically, it was a picture of some Gothic landscape, all blasted heath and twisted trees and stormy skies. She faltered, but didn’t stop.

APPLEJACK. I WANT A WORD.

That brought her up short. For just a moment, Applejack could see dozens of hundreds of thousands of stars stretching into infinity, all different colors, all connected from one to the next with fine filaments that she could make out as easily as the swirling gases of the twinkling lights…

“Sorry about that,” Twilight said, catching up. “I don’t like using the Royal Canterlot Voice, but it sure is useful.”

“Uh-huh,” Applejack replied, the stars fading from her vision. “Twi, what in th’ Sam Hill was--”

It was at this point that she realized that at some point she had let go of her sister’s ear, and glanced around frantically. Twilight smirked. “Looking for somepony?” she asked, gesturing to a sulking filly trapped in a bubble of magic.

Applejack relaxed. “You found out, huh?”

“I worked it out,” Twilight said. “I knew Dinky was involved. The other Crusaders being involved wasn’t exactly a massive leap of logic.”

Applejack huffed. “Yep. Guess we’d better tell th’ others.”

“Later. I think we’ve got a more pressing appointment right now,” Twilight said grimly.

“Yeah, yer probably right,” Applejack agreed. “Ah reckon them two must be gettin’ pretty antsy by now.”

Twilight stopped. “Two? Antsy?”

Applejack stared at Twilight. “Please tell me we’re both talkin’ ‘bout how th’ Crusaders foalnapped Starlight an’ Spike.”

Twilight’s entire face spasmed. “No, actually. I was referring to the fact that they stole my anti-magic crystals, though I suppose this at least explains why.”

Both mares cast dark, despairing looks at Apple Bloom. For her part, the filly was currently trying to get her cutie mark in hiding behind herself. “You an’ me are gonna have words, young filly,” Applejack growled. “Ah raised you better than this.”

Apple Bloom looked back, utterly miserable, but her sister had already turned back to Twilight. “Explosive?” Applejack yelped.

“Don’t worry, there’s no way they could have absorbed that much magic,” Twilight assured her. “Not in such a short time, anyway.”

A mere second later, there was a loud crash from up ahead. Then another, and another, and another. Applejack broke into a frantic gallop, and after a horrified moment, Twilight followed, Apple Bloom still being dragged behind in the bubble of magic.

***

Meanwhile, back at Grazie, Fluttershy was having a surprisingly good time. Though she had just met Eris, the doe was so casual and friendly that it was as though Fluttershy had known her for years. They discussed animals, primarily; Eris was very interested in Fluttershy’s rabbit care tips, and actually pulled out a notepad when she talked about how she got her own Angel Bunny to stop misbehaving.

So easy was the conversation that Fluttershy eventually managed to work up the courage to ask the question that had been preying on her all day. “So, um, Eris, how exactly do you know Discord?”

The doe’s eyes bulged as her pink lemonade went down the wrong way. Hacking and sputtering, she attempted to wash it down with more of the same. “‘Scuse me!” she gasped. “Whoo! Better Motown on me skating rink, eh?”

Fluttershy hesitated. “Well, I suppose so. Are you alright?”

“As rain,” Eris agreed easily, leaning back. “Now, how d’ye feel ‘bout bears?”

“I love them. But Eris, you didn’t answer my question.”

“Oh, ar,” Eris shifted awkwardly. “Well, we met at, er, a knitting circle.”

“Oh? I didn’t know they liked to knit. I wish they’d told me. I love knitting.”

“Well, it’s a very tennis-ball gathering, you see?”

“Small?”

“Yeh. Held on a coracle.”

Fluttershy blinked. “Sorry, a metaphorical knitting circle?”

“Nah, nah. A coracle. Little round boat. We knit ourselves hats and scarves to keep out th’ spray.”

“Wouldn’t that make the yarn soggy and shrunken.”

“Not with what we use. Woolens? Pah. Acrylic? Double pah with knobs on.”

“So what do you use?”

“Plasticine.”

“How--”

“With great difficulty. Anyhow, it’s me, them, their time-traveling daughter from an aborted future timeline, nine apathetic sympathetic diabetic old men on roller skates with a marked propensity for apathy and sloth, and only one chair.”

When lying, it is often better to go with a huge, impossible whopper rather than a tiny unnoticed one. Others will be so taken aback at the sheer effrontery that they won’t even be able to question it. Such was the case here. Fluttershy’s jaw hung agape, floundering. Eris stood up abruptly. “Scuse me. I’ve got to recalibrate th’ styrofoam modern major general.”

“Powder your nose?” Fluttershy checked.

“That’s a much better excuse, ta much.” And then Eris was gone, fleeing towards the washroom. Fluttershy watched her go. Then she too rose from the table to find Rarity’s table. She had a fork to knock to the floor.

***

Lotus was, surprisingly enough, actually enjoying herself. It shouldn't have been so unexpected; Rarity was a good friend, a scintillating conversationalist, and a terrible gossip. What she hadn't heard about Canterlot high society usually wasn't worth hearing.

She asked about Lotus’ personal life, and shared hers in turn with all the closeness of the oldest of friends. Lotus questioned Rarity’s dinner choice of shrimp and ziti, and Rarity told her all about her father the fisherstallion and sports fan, who grilled fish and lobster every summer barbecue. Rarity wondered where the twins had developed such a unique accent, and Lotus told her all about her early childhood in Castlevania, up in the north of Copabanana, the ancestral thestral nation.

Better even than Rarity’s talking was her wonderful ability to listen. The way she watched as Lotus spoke, the nods and sympathetic noises in all the right places, the way she would very occasionally interject to ask for clarification, all served to make Lotus feel like she was the center of Rarity’s attention, and at the center of Rarity’s attention was the most important thing on Gaea.

There was also the matter of the two, going on three, bottles of Berry Punch’s finest sitting at the table, which may have lubricated the wheels somewhat.

Then, with one fluid motion, it all came crashing down. Lotus had run out of conversation. She had aired her dirtiest laundry about Aloe, gossiped about spa patrons, told her favorite childhood story, and then she ground to a halt. Well, she had been monopolizing the conversation anyway. Why not let Rarity have a chance to speak? But then she saw the look in the unicorn’s eye.

“Lotus, my dear,” Rarity said, leaning over the table. “Why did you invite me on this date?”

Lotus dried. “I, euh, that iz--”

“I know that you’re interested in mares,” Rarity continued. “Celestia knows we’ve gossiped about enough of them together at the spa. However, you’ve never made any attempt to woo any of them, and certainly none to woo me. So, I ask again.’ She gestured to Lotus’ suddenly very red face. “What gives?”

Lotus glanced away, unable to meet the fashion icon’s eye. “Lotus?” Rarity asked, alarmed. “Oh dear, I haven't pried too much, have I?”

“... It vas Aloe’s idea.”

Rarity went quite still. “Oh.”

“She zinks I do not get out enough. I should lighten up. Date more, as she does. She proposes you as a suitable candidate; I like you, and you like me. Ve have common interests. I said yes, of course. There vere ozzer reasons, but ve vill ignore zose for now.” Lotus was staring at the ground now, unable even to look at Rarity, let alone meet her gaze. “I am sorry to have deceived you.”

Rarity sighed. It was not the sign of disappointment or disapproval Lotus had expected. Rather, it was a sigh that was only there to conceal a titter. “Oh, my dear Lotus. You needn't apologize. There was scarcely any sort of deceit to this evening. This has been a rather splendid evening, after all. And I do rather think we’ve grown closer as friends, haven't we?”

Lotus nodded her assent and glanced up from the floor. Rarity, pink-cheeked and smiling, leaned over to give her a pat on the hoof. “So few first dates end in a second, in my experience. This has been the most pleasant example I've yet encountered.”

Lotus smiled weakly. “Better off friends?”

Rarity smiled back. “I think so. Anyway, I didn't want to say earlier, for obvious reasons, but I’ve rather had an eye…” she trailed off suddenly, looking out into the restaurant with surprise. “Oh my. I didn't expect her to be so direct.”

Lotus followed Rarity’s gaze. Fluttershy was hurrying over to the table, occasionally glancing back over her withers toward the washroom. Upon reaching the table, she stared significantly at both mares, picked up Rarity’s fork, and dropped it to the floor, never breaking eye contact.

“Oh, dear,” Rarity sighed. “May I ask what went wrong?”

“She wouldn’t tell me how she knows Discord, lied to my face, then ran away to hide in the bathroom. I may not date much, but I don’t think that’s a very good sign.”

Rarity grimaced. “I should be inclined to agree.”

Lotus looked between one mare and the other. “Am I missing something?”

“We’re making a distraction,” Rarity replied briskly. “Go back to your table before Eris returns, darling. We’ll work something out.”

Fluttershy nodded and hurried away once more. Rarity huffed. “I suppose that goes to show, one ought never to go on blind dates arranged by chaos incarnate.”

“Zat does not sound like a very useful moral.”

“Not particularly, no,” Rarity admitted. “Perhaps I can stretch the defenition to ‘never do anything Discord suggests, ever.’ They offered to help me with a little project, but they only ended up making things far worse.”

Lotus giggled. “Oh? What project? Does zis have something to do vith vhat you vere going to tell me before Fluttershy interrupted?”

Rarity’s mouth snapped shut for a moment. “No time for that now,” she said briskly. “We’ve got a distraction to make.

***

Spike glared at the other door, the one leading to the kitchen. For the last ten minutes, he’d been banging on it, yelling for help. However, the crash of pots and pans, the burble of boiling water, and the shouts of chefs had all but drowned him out. This door proved no more yielding to magic than the other. The keyhole was jammed with crystals, and they lined the doorjamb as well. There was a clear path around the deadbolt, presumably to keep the door from sticking after the dramatic rescue, but there were other crystals in sufficiently close proximity to keep any spells from making it through. Any spells.

Spike smacked his forehead. “Stupid,” he growled. “I’ve been spending too much time with you and Twilight.”

“Hnh?” Starlight looked up from where she lay in a puddle of sweat.

“Magic doesn’t solve everything,” Spike expounded. “I mean, if anything, it usually makes problems worse. Look, the Crusaders have magic-proofed the room, but there are other ways of getting through a locked door.”

Starlight blinked sluggishly and hauled herself upright. Spike rushed over to steady her. “Starlight, what have you got in your saddlebags? I need something thin and stiff, like, uh… a library card?”

Starlight shook her head. “No card,” she rasped. Then, she paused. “But…”

She pulled her bags towards her and rifled through them. “Ah!” She pulled out a thin strip of gold card; the plot coupon she’d won from Pinkie earlier that day.

“Perfect!” Spike said with a grin, snatching it from Starlight’s hoof. “Now, I saw this once in a spy movie…”

He wiggled the card into the thin crevisse between door and jamb, bending it so that it was behind the deadbolt. He stuck his tongue out, focusing intently on the task at claw. There was a faint pop.

“Yes!” Spike whooped, pulling open the handle. There was a split second of absolute shock as the chefs looked up from their work and saw the dragon and the unicorn stumbling out from the furnace room.

Then, there was a raspy, sucking noise, like a vacuum trying to clean up a pile of sawdust. Dozens upon dozens of twinkling trails raced through the kitchen and into the furnace room, lighting it up with brilliant colors. They didn’t seem to be stopping anytime soon.

Then, the shouting started. Spike looked at Starlight, who was currently latched onto the nearest faucet, trying to rehydrate herself. He sighed, then ran out into the restaurant itself.

***

Grazie was dissolving into chaos. Moreover, it was dissolving. The crystal chandeliers turned to sand and blew away. The plush seats turned to vinyl, and the varnished wood sideboards turned to tile. “Rarity!” Fluttershy shrieked over the chaos. “When I asked for an excuse to leave, this isn’t what I meant!”

The unicorn shook her head. “This isn’t me!” she shouted back.

The maitre’d bounced by, then exploded in a burst of confetti, revealing Pinkie Pie underneath. “Whoops!” she yelped, colliding with a waiter, who stumbled forwards, fumbling his tray right in Fluttershy’s direction.

Angel Bunny fell from the no-longer-extant eaves and landed on the table, quickly blocking the falling soup course with a silver platter. Fluttershy’s mouth dropped. “Angel? What are you--”

She was interrupted by a scream from the bathroom. Eris came stumbling out, the buttons popping from her suit as the magic holding them in place vanished. That didn’t seem to be her main concern, though, as she was clutching her head as though trying to hold it on. It didn’t seem to be working. Before Fluttershy’s befuddled eyes, the peryton blew away like a sandcastle in a hurricane, revealing… “Discord?”

The draconequus glanced up, panicked. They snapped their claws once, twice, three times, but each time, the sparks blew away toward the kitchen. Into this madness stepped Spike. He looked around, squeaked, and promptly ducked behind a potted plant as what used to be a mosaic whizzed by his head. The plant promptly dissolved and washed around him. He licked his lips. “Magic,” he muttered. His eyes went wide. “Everypony out!” he shouted, racing for the door.

None of the diners needed to be told twice. There was a rush for the main doors. Some clearer-headed few went out the windows. For some, the windows came to them as the restauant shrunk dramatically. There was a terrible moment of squeezing as Spike was compacted by the throng of restaurant-goers, but then they all popped out into the street. Spike bounced once or twice before landing in a crumpled heap. A great tide of ponies in toques burst from the back of the restaurant, screaming and cursing in Neightalian. Spike turned his neck to stare, and saw Starlight, dazed and sloshing from all the water she’d drunk, being carried along by the throng.

There was a moment of stunned silence as everypony watched Grazie deflate. The towering arches and pillars sunk back into ordinary doorways. The high, peaked roof collapsed like a bad souffle, and the warm yellow candlelight faded to black; the crystals had consumed the power from the magic generators some time ago. The changes slowed. The crystals were nearing their capacity. However, the restaurant changed back into its normal shape with no further ill effects, and everypony breathed a collective sigh of relief. Then, Twilight and Applejack ran onto the scene, dragging Apple Bloom in a magic bubble behind them.

“Everypony alright?” Applejack shouted over the din.

“What happened? Have the crystals exploded?” Twilight asked, panicked.

Then, the bubble holding Apple Bloom burst. Applejack caught her little sister in midair as the remnants of the spell whooshed away toward the restaurant. The pink glow faded into the dim interior. Then, with an almighty bang, the back end of the restaurant went up in a burst of released magical force.

There was a long moment of shocked awe as tiny pieces of the restaurant rained down in cinders and chunks of plaster. Then, all at once, the whole crowd began to shout at once, at each other, at the restaurant, at the metaphysical constructs that they personally blamed for their ruined evening.

Starlight staggered upright, still badly out of it from her ordeal earlier. The whole world seemed dreamlike and far away, all the sound reaching her ears with a strange echo. She gazed around, befuddled. She saw Applejack clutching Apple Bloom tight to her barrel, Twilight being pressed with questions, Discord being attacked with anything that came to hoof. In the center of it all, Spike lay, dazed and miserable, curled up into the fetal position as his eyes stared straight out at nothing at all.

There was too much noise, too much motion. She had to do something. Do? Something? Unbidden, a thought rose in her mind; something she’d read just recently. If she had been in her right mind-- well, let’s be honest, she would have done exactly the same thing.

Starlight’s horn lit with a brilliant blue glow. A goofy, dazed smile was plastered over her face. “And to all,” she shouted over the hubbub, “a good night!”

A brilliant blue blaze blossomed over the square, flickering reflected in the eyes of everyone except Starlight herself. Then, first one by one, then in groups, they all dropped to the ground, snoring softly. Starlight took a deep breath in to steady herself. Then, without wasting another moment, she picked up the snoozing Spike and stumbled as best she could for the castle.

***

The dragon sat in the ruins of Main Street, atop the ruins of Grazie. The diners, the waiters, the chefs, the pedestrians, all had long since fled. All those that could flee, anyway.

The dragon picked his teeth with a floorboard, then rose to all fours. He strode down the road with the confidence of one who is taller than any building in town, strong enough to level any of those buildings in a single strike, and ruthless enough to use that power without hesitation.

The dragon felt the eyes of ponies on him. He was unconcerned. Ponies could not pierce his metal hide. Ponies could not touch his heart. Ponies were weak, and he was strong. And he was hungry, too. Up ahead, gleaming in the moonlight, was the largest midnight snack in the world; a colossal tree of crystal.

He felt a tickling sensation on his chest. Glancing down, he saw a group of ponies, three of which were blasting him with spells. A pegasus flew around his head, pummeling at him. He reached up and swatted her down like the insect she was. A rainbow-colored blur shot through the air, going down over the Everfree. But there were six more pests to deal with. His mouth curling up, he reached down with a hand the size of a castle door…

***

Spike awoke with a start. “Oh, thank Celestia.”

The room was blurry and dim, but slowly his eyes regained their focus. “Twi… light?”

The purple blob at the end of the bed nodded. “How are you feeling?”

Spike turned his attention to the ceiling. “Get out.”

A pause. Then, with a hitch in her voice, “Spike?”

“Get out before I hurt you,” he said listlessly.

“Spykoran--”

“OUT!” he roared, sitting up, eyes aflame. “Twilight, please. Leave me alone…”

There was a long moment. Then, the door shut, leaving Spike in the dark with his memories.

Monday Morning

It was not quite properly morning, except in the most pedantic sense imaginable. The sun had not yet risen, and the half-moon hung overhead, a judging eye cast down on Rarity’s head. Three in the morning was no time for anypony to be awake. Yet, the whole town was positively alive with sound and light as ponies struggled to repair the damage done the night before.

Rarity had, in times past, been nervous. This had been true on multiple occasions, ranging from the opening of a new branch of the Carousel Boutique to facing down Nightmare Moon. On some occasions, she had been fearful, even terrified. But nothing that she had ever felt compared to the sheer terror that she felt looking up at the crystalline doors that led into the throne room. At this point, she didn’t even feel the fear. Her entire body had gone numb. It was like looking at her mind from the outside, an independent viewer watching her foibles through a screen, distanced from the emotion.

The unicorn blinked once and shook herself.Heavens, but I must be stressed. If I’m not careful, I’ll end up like Pinkie Pie.

Rarity took a deep breath and pushed through the doors and into the next chamber.

The throne room was a fairly opulent affair. Even were it bare, the sparkling walls and ceiling would render it quite beautiful. Covered as it was in tasteful tapestries, most of which depicted various of Twilight’s friends, as well as lush red velvet carpets and furnishings, it was positively… well, palatial.

Twilight, of course, rarely used it. She considered it overblown.

And yet, as Rarity crept into the room, she found it oddly depressing. The walls seemed cloudy and grey. The tapestries appeared flat and unappealing. The furnishings were oddly dusty, and even the bright, polished brass that accentuated the throne was dull and slightly tarnished. In the center of it all sat Twilight Sparkle, staring at the wall, her face unreadable. Her eyes flickered over Rarity for a brief moment, then returned to the clouded crystal in front of her.

The unicorn paused for a moment. She chewed at her lower lip. Perhaps now was not the best time…

The door slammed shut behind her. Ah. She trotted forwards again, but more slowly. The room seemed at once oppressively claustrophobic and enormously stretched. Eventually, however, she sat down next to Twilight. The lilac alicorn turned her head glacially. “Rarity.”

Rarity’s stomach hadn’t felt this terrible since the day she’d been served bad caviar. “Twilight,” she said, attempting light civility. It dried up and disappeared in the void, as powerless against the tension as Rarity herself would be against a black hole. Nevertheless, she would be strong. She would be self possessed. She would be—

“I don’t suppose you’d like to explain the events of this afternoon.”

Rarity cracked like an egg. “I— I—” she stammered. Tears began to brim in the corners of her eyes. “Oh, Twilight, I’m so sorry! I swear, I had no idea that things would get so terribly out of hoof! I really didn’t have anything to do with the Crusaders, or the Bouquet Sisters, or the spa sisters, or— or— I just wanted to help poor Spikey-Wikey!”

The alicorn’s violet eyes flashed. “HELP him, Rarity? That’s the best you can do? You’ve turned him into a nervous wreck! He won’t leave his room, he won’t eat, he won’t even talk to me! You ruined him, you and your little plan, and I think it’s about time you came clean about the reasons why!” Twilight was breathing hard now, her muzzle flecked with spittle and her eyes dancing with sparks. Her wings were spread. Her horn was flickering erratically. “Well?”

“Because I love him!” Rarity shouted."He's charming, and sweet, and generous, and so sincere it almost hurts to turn him away, but that is what I have had to do. Because he looked to be a child, and sweet though he may have been, old as he may have been in reality, one cannot date a child! If I'd ever so much as seemed inclined to take his advances, I would have been mercilessly executed by the court of public opinion! All of these plans and schemes were meant to help him. To make him grow. Because I think I really do love him, darling, and I would not see him stunted for another week let alone the decades it would take him naturally. I did it all of it for love."

Twilight stared for a long moment. “Do you, now.” There was a hint of menace in her suddenly quiet voice, and Rarity wasn’t certain that the shouting was not preferable. “After all this time, you finally choose to show it.”

Rarity licked her lips. Her mouth suddenly felt very dry. “I don’t know what you mean,” she said, as calmly as she could.

“You know perfectly well that he had a crush on you from the moment he saw you,” Twilight snapped. “You knew, and you never said a thing. Confirmation or denial, either would have been better than all… this! All those years of, of using his affections! Twisting him around your hoof, leading him on!”

“It wasn’t like that!” Rarity replied, almost pleading. “Twilight, I swear to you, I never wanted to hurt him. Perhaps in the beginning it was as you said, before I really knew him. But he has seen me at my best and at my worst, Twilight, and stood by me each time. When I enlisted his aid in wooing Trenderhoof, he made no fuss, though it must have broken his poor heart. He was prepared to take on those Diamond Dog ruffians, solely to impress me. Yes, I know his motivations were not the purest, nor his methods the most effectual, but think of the passion! And every week for the last several years, he has been willing to serve as pincushion, model, critic, and most importantly, friend, expecting no more from it than simply to help me. All that, simply to preserve my happiness, no matter what. It is not in my nature to take without giving back something. I could not give him my heart, so I... supposed that the gift of maturity would be an acceptable substitute. Perhaps from there, we could have... gone further.”

Twilight was silent. “Why didn’t you mention this before?” Much of the rancor had gone from her voice, but it was still filled with trace amounts of suspicion.

Rarity looked away. “Various reasons,” she said. “His apparent age, of course, was a major factor. Though it shames me to admit it, so was his species. I could not accept his advances, and yet I did not wish to deny those advances. I was… a coward. A greedy, craven hypocrite—” her voice broke. She took a deep breath. “It was… nice,” she said. “It was so nice to know how deeply he cared for me. Though, I suppose that’s all over with, after today.”

Twilight smiled. It was a thin, weak smile, but the room seemed to brighten, nonetheless. “That remains to be seen.” She turned toward the throne. “Spike? What do you think?”

Rarity whirled around to face the front of the room. Slowly, a little purple figure slipped out from behind the throne. “...Hi.”

***

Some two hours earlier... Twilight slumped against the door to Spike's room. She had failed. Not once could she ever remember a failure that hurt her worse than this. She hesitated. Well, okay, maybe the whole "Want-it, Need-it" had been worse. And her failure to convince anypony that Cadence was an impostor. Oh, and her first date as a teenager was something that would forever live in infamy...

She shook herself. Now wasn't the time for self-pity. Something was clearly wrong with Spike. She had ignored the warning signs for far too long. Now, she just had to hope that she was still able to make things right again. She teleported to the kitchen. This looked like a conversation that required cupcakes, at the very least.

***

There was a knock at the door. Spike didn't even look up. He did, however, wince as the light from outside hit him. "Told you to go away."

"I did. Now, I'm back."

Spike growled something low in his throat. Twilight levitated over a platter. "Sapphire cupcake?"

He hesitated for a moment, then took one very carefully. "Thank you," he said.

Twilight set the platter down on his lap. There wasn't really anywhere else to put it, given how small Spike's cot was. She'd offered him a new bed, but he'd refused. She wondered now if that had been a warning sign. "So. You wanna talk?"

Spike grunted. "Do I have a choice?"

"Of course. Talk with me or don't. Either way, I'm staying in here until I've worked out what's going on."

"You shouldn't," Spike said. "You should lock me up in the deepest dungeon you can and throw away the key."

"Oh? Why's that?"

"Because I'm dangerous!" Spike exploded, knocking the tray of cupcakes off the bed.

Twilight quickly caught them in her magic and placed them back where they had been. "Uh, sorry," Spike muttered.

Twilight chuckled. "Oh, yes, the dangerous dragon monster," she teased. "Spike, c'mon. You're a great cook, a comics nerd, my most faithful assistant, my best friend, and my little brother. Dangerous, though?" She pulled a face. "Mmm, nah."

"I'm also a dragon," Spike said grimly.

"Well, yeah," Twilight acknowledged. "But so is Ember."

"Do you really want to use Ember as an example of a non-dangerous dragon?"

"Point," Twilight conceded.

"You're being blind, Twilight. Dragons are always the monster of the story. Don't think I don't know about how you always edited those stories you read to me at bedtime. 'And so the brave, noble dragon saved the princess from the eeevil knight.' Yeah, right."

Twilight flinched. "Well, maybe, but--"

"Think about all those teenage dragons I met. Going around smashing up eggs for fun, dipping each other in lava, throwing rocks at each others' heads!"

"Now, Spike, that's a logical error. You know better than to use the fallacy of division."

"Logical fallacy nothing! I'm as bad as any of them, or did you forget my birthday?"

Twilight froze. Spike snorted. "Yeah. That's what I thought. Sure, I'm not dangerous. I only crushed the whole town!"

Twilight hesitated a moment more. "Have another cupcake," she said.

Spike blinked. "Huh?"

"Take all of the cupcakes," Twilight ordered. "I don't just mean on the platter, either! Take all the cupcakes in Sugarcube Corner, all the cupcakes in town, all the cupcakes in the world!"

"Twi, what-- no!"

"Why not?" she demanded, pushing the platter closer. "You love cupcakes, right?"

"Well, yeah--"

"So why don't you? What's stopping you? You wouldn't even need to stop at cupcakes! All the cookies, all the gem-chip pancakes! Unlimited pavlovas! Unlimited rice pudding! Powdered sugar beyond the dreams of pony!"

Spike shoved her away. "No!"

Twilight leaned forwards until her eyes met his. "Why. Not."

"Because I don't want to!" Spike shouted, smacking the cupcakes into Twilight's face.

Total silence. Slowly, the platter slid down Twilight's face, coating it in a thick layer of blue frosting. It fell, messy side down, on the bed. Spike stared at his big sister, horrorstruck. She licked her lips. "Mm, blue raspberry," she said, grinning.

Spike remained dumbstruck. Twilight pulled him into a nuzzling hug. "That's why I don't think you're dangerous," she said softly. "You know better than that. I raised you from a hatchling, Spike. I taught you manners, morals, and more. You're a responsible young dragon. Do you make mistakes? Sure. But so does everypony. I'd say that the stunt the Crusaders pulled was more dangerous than anything you ever tried to do, and we aren't going to lock them up and throw away the key."

"What are you going to do with them?"

"They're all going to have to help repair Grazie, for a start. Beyond that, it's up to their guardians to decide."

"Oh." Spike hesitated. "But what if I mess up again, really badly? Like, greed-growth bad?"

Twilight pulled away, leaving a big smear of blue frosting on Spike's head. "Is that why you never grow? Because you're afraid of what you might become?"

Spike shifted. "Well, yeah. Pretty much."

"Huh," Twilight said. "Well, that's a good question. Here's some more; what if you grow up to become a hero? What if you grow up to be a scholar? How about the first dragon in the Royal Guard?"

Spike waved a claw. "But you don't know if I will or not."

"And you don't know for sure that you're going to grow up to be terrible," Twilight said simply. "I'd say that my ideas are more likely."

"But what if you're wrong?"

Twilight thought about that, then shrugged. "If you told me after the first time Discord escaped that he'd be one of Equestria's greatest allies, I'd have put you in the psych ward at Ponyville General. If you tried to make me believe that the changelings could become our friends, I'd have had you arrested on suspicion of being one of them. I think we've proved that no-one is ever completely evil."

Spike digested that. Then, he hopped out of bed. "I'm gonna go take a shower," he said.

Twilight smiled as she watched him go. Then, when she was sure that he was out of sight, she let out a huge sigh of relief and collapsed against the wall.

***

Back in the present...Twilight looked at him expectantly. However, it was Rarity who spoke first. “Oh, Spikey, I’ve been a fool! Can you ever forgive me?”

Spike scratched the back of his head. “Well—”

“All these years, and I never once valued your feelings as you valued mine! I’ve been a wretch, a cad!”

“Rarity—”

“No, Spike, do not try to pretend that I have not injured you. I have seen the truth. I have seen the light!”

“Rarity!”

The unicorn blinked. “Yes, darling?”

“You’re being way too hard on yourself.”

Rarity blinked. “Am I?” She considered. “Perhaps that was a touch too overdramatic…”

Spike rolled his eyes, arms crossed. “A touch? Rarity, you aren’t giving yourself enough credit here. You’ve been a great friend. Yeah, I did my best to make you happy. I helped you when you needed it. I did my best to make you feel special. And I think you did all that for me too, right?”

“I… well…”

“Rarity. I don’t forgive you, but only because you have nothing to be sorry about.” He hesitated. “Okay, maybe scheming behind my back instead of just asking me why I wasn’t growing. I forgive you for that. But nothing else of what you said was your fault.”

“But I—”

The little dragon held up a claw. Rarity squinted. Was the distance fooling her, or was something wrong with the way Spike looked? “Rarity. I love you. And if you meant what you said, you love me, too. And love means never having to say you’re sorry. I think there’s a movie that says that.”

“Chee-sy,” Twilight sang, sotto voice. Dragon and unicorn turned to glare at her, and she smirked. “What? I’m his big sister. Good-natured ribbing is basically in the job description, and more or less entirely warranted after today.”

The glares diminished not a whit, and Twilight chuckled. “Alright, I’m going up to read something with no romance at all in it, leave you two lovebirds in peace.” She trotted out, a small smile on her lips.

Once she was certain the alicorn had left, Rarity turned to face the dragon, and leapt back in alarm when she realized that Spike was now standing right behind her. He winced. “Sorry, sorry. My bad.”

“Yes, well,” Rarity said, trying to regain her composure. Her gaze swept Spike up and down, though to her surprise, she had to tilt her neck less than usual. The dragon could now almost meet her eyes without tilting back his head. Petite though Rarity may have been, he had never been able to do that before. “No harm done… Ah, Spikey, dear, something seems different about you. Have you done up your scales?”

The dragon chuckled. “I’ve stopped holding my growth spurts back,” he said. “Twilight estimates that I should catch up completely in about three months, a little before my birthday. I’m already a whole ten centimeters taller.”

“I see…” Rarity looked the dragon up and down. “Perhaps I should think about a new wardrobe for you, hm?”

“Once I’ve finished growing, yeah,” Spike agreed, glancing away.

Rarity’s breath caught. “A-ah,” she said. “Yes, a fine birthday present, I dare say. Perhaps a suit and tie, suitable for an evening out?”

A small smile graced Spike’s face. “I think that sounds great, Rarity. Really great.”

“Then it's arranged,” Rarity said, taking a small step forward. “On your birthday. Altogether a fitting time, wouldn't you agree?”

Spike’s smile grew, and he seemed about to say something more when Applejack burst in, wild-eyed. “Hide me!” she hissed, slamming the door behind her. “Quick, they're right on mah tail!”

Spike blinked. Rarity, however, maintained an admirable sense of calm. She levitated over a large ornamental jar and opened the lid. “Get in, and try not to move too much. I believe this is Ki-Rin dynasty porcelain, and probably worth around half one of your orchards.”

Applejack stood there for a moment, frozen perhaps in terror of accidentally fracturing the pottery and losing the farm. Spike sighed and gently lifted the farmer up and plopped her in tail-first. “Don't worry, it's a replica,” he assured her. “Still, try not to break it, it was a birthday present from Shining Armor.”

“Right,” Applejack agreed, visibly relaxing. That lasted only for a fraction of a moment. As soon as the pitter-patter of little hooves sounded from down the hall she stiffened as though she was made of porcelain herself. Spike hastily let her the rest of the way in and popped the lid on loosely over her.

“C’mon, Ah think she went in here,” a southern-accented voice said. The doors swung open again, and the six Crusaders mobbed through.

Sweetie squeaked and immediately turned around. The other Crusaders looked to be right behind her. Rarity rolled her eyes and closed the doors before any of them could escape. “Explain.”

There was a good deal of hoof shuffling and glances towards the floor. “We… wanted to say sorry,” Scootaloo said at length. “To Applejack and Spike and Starlight especially.”

Rarity twisted her lips up. “Darling, I daresay there are rather more ponies that are owed an apology than those three alone. For example, the staff of Grazie, all the diners there, me…”

“Well, yeah,” Apple Bloom agreed. “But all that was kinda incidental.”

“Those three are the only ones we directly hurt,” Rumble explained. “So we thought we’d start there.”

Rarity studied them. “Hm.”

Spike stepped forwards. “I forgive you,” he said simply. “I mean, definitely don’t do it again, but… you helped me work some stuff out, indirectly or not. So, yeah.” He grinned.

Apple Bloom grinned back. “Well, shoot! Now Ah feel real bad fer callin’ ya an overblown cheatin’ salamander!”

Spike blinked. “Sorry, what?”

The other Crusaders glared at Apple Bloom. “So, uh, kin we go find Applejack now?” Bloom asked, rubbing an ear.

Rarity sighed and let the doors swing open again. “Very well. But you might want to add Twilight to that list of immediate apologies, particularly you, Dinky Doo.”

Dinky stiffened slightly, but nodded. “Point taken,” she muttered, leading the group out into the hall.

Once the door had shut again, Spike pulled the lid off the jar and Rarity levitated Applejack out. “Why were you running?” she enquired. “One would think that you would welcome their apologies.”

“That’s as may be,” Applejack conceded. “But when yer bein’ chased by a herd’a squallin foals that just blew up a buildin’, ya don’t stand around t’ see what they want. Ah’ll let ‘em catch me later. Right now, Ah jes’ want some peace an’ quiet.”

“Funny that you should mention that,” Rarity said drily.

Applejack glanced between the two. “Oh, right. Right.” She squinted at Spike. “So, did that thing with Starlight not work out, or--”

“Never happened.”

“Figgers. Well, good luck with that.” She looked back at the door. “Ah reckon Ah kin make a break fer it now. Maybe even get in a couple hours’ sleep ‘fore work. Night, all.”

They watched her poke her head out the doors before hurrying away. "...So," Spike said. "My birthday. Suit fitting. I'll put it on the calendar."

"It's a date. Time! Time. It's an... event," Rarity said, blushing fiercely.

Neither was able to meet the other's eyes. "I suppose I ought to be getting back to the Boutique," Rarity said after a moment. "Sweetie Belle will be on her last legs as it is, and I'd rather not have to carry her all the way to her room."

"Okay! Night, Rarity! See you tomorrow"

"Good night, Spike. Sweet dreams."

He grinned. "You know what? I think they will be. Thanks."

***

Meanwhile, Fluttershy sat quietly on a park bench, gazing up at the stars. Ordinarily, she would have been doing her best to help tidy up the mess left by the explosion and the overexcited mob, but right now she was too overwhelmed even to consider it.

Anyway, she was helping, in a certain way. Lying curled around the bench, like a protective dog was Discord. Angel Bunny had wanted to stay, too, but she had sent him home right after everypony had woken up.

They had followed her from the restaurant, spinning out excuses and apologies like spiderwebs; numerous and flimsy. Her refusal to reply or even look at them had eventually been enough to make them fall silent. They had, however, refused to leave her side.

Therefore, she had chosen this isolated spot not only to keep herself out of the loud aftermath of the whole affair, but to keep Discord out of it as well. If that wasn't helpful, what was? If she had an ulterior motive all of her own, then so be it.

After nearly a half-hour of silence, Fluttershy spoke up at last. “Why?” she asked simply.

Discord glanced up. “M. C. A.?” they suggested with a weak smile. Fluttershy did not look away from the stars. They sighed and let their head fall to the dirt again. They'd ruined it. Again. The same thing had happened back in the days before the bad old days, with Celestia. It was simply part of their nature.

“Why couldn't you have just apologized?” she asked, closing her eyes tightly. “You didn't need to take all this trouble just to make it up to me.”

Slowly, Discord lifted their head once more. “Apologized?” they repeated. The word sounded foreign in their mouth, even after all this time. She thought they had been trying to… apologize?

“Anyway, it's really Spike you should be apologizing to,” she continued.

Discord floundered for a reply. They decided to take the option out. “I suppose so,” they replied laconically. “Though, I scarcely think he's going to hold a grudge now that he's gotten over himself.”

Fluttershy frowned at them. “Fine! Fine,” they said, waving their claw. “I’ll apologize. I’ll even mean it. You were… the more pressing matter.”

“Really?” Fluttershy’s voice seemed even higher than normal, Discord noticed. “Why?”

So she really didn't know. Discord stared off at the Everfree Forest, where chaos ran free, impossible to constrain… tempting. But no. “You’re my best friend,” they replied. “You were… upset with me. It hurt.”

Neither spoke for a long moment. “I’m sorry I hurt you,” Fluttershy said.
“I’m sorry I hurt you, too,” Discord replied, before lapsing back into silence. For once in their long, immortal life, they had nothing to say.

Instead, they flicked their tail over behind Fluttershy’s head and let the tuft tickle behind her ear. She giggled and pulled away at first, but soon she had given into the sensation, laughing loud and deep and true, and so was Discord. They were just happy to be with her again. It was all for the best, they told themself. She would have been heartbroken if Eris had vanished, and the spirit of chaos certainly couldn’t spend an entire lifetime in one shape. Romance was all well and good-- and chaotic, never forgetting that-- but, well, there were practical considerations, even for the most impractical being of them all.

Better just to be friends, they thought. Nothing else could ever last.

***

Lotus trudged back towards the home she shared with her sister, connected to the back of the spa. She was exhausted; she was never awake this late. Early. Whichever. And of course, she was being walked home by the only pony in town who could make her sister seem respectable and considering in comparison. “So then, when I was taking orders while pretending to be the maitre’d, which I was doing because Discord was the one-hundred and thirty-seventh customer to come into Sugarcube Corner, so they won first prize, which was a favor from me redeemable anytime and they took me up on it right there and then! So anyway, I was walking around taking orders like spaghetti and wheatballs or cheese ravioli with broccoli, but then this ewe tried to order oatmeal! And I said--”

“Pinkie!”

“Yes, Lotus?”

“Zere is no need to valk me home. You can go to bed now.”

Pinkie shrugged. “I know.”

They walked on. “Zo… vhy are you still valking me home?”

“You were sad,” Pinkie said simply. “I thought you might want somepony to talk to.”

Lotus bit her tongue to keep from commenting about the difference between ‘talking to’ and ‘being talked at’. “I’m sure there vere many sad ponies back at ze restaurant.” She didn’t say ‘why don’t you bother one of them,’ but it was a near thing. Perhaps it was the pink coat that made some mares so irritatingly energetic.

“Nope! Some ponies were scared, or annoyed, or confused, but you were the only one who was really actually sad.”

“...Oh.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

Lotus shrugged. “I vas having a nice time. It vas cut short too early. End of story.”

“So you had a nice time with Rarity? Maybe you can go out again sometime soon!”

Lotus snorted. “No. Her attentions are elsevere. Ve are friends, no more.”

“Oh.” Pinkie nodded. “So that’s why you’re sad? ‘Cause she turned you down?”

“Wha-- no! Zat vas never ze point. It vas-- it vas--” she sighed. “A stupid plan. Aloe’s idea. She thought if I vent on a date vith Rarity, it vould make Fluttershy jealous end zen a confrontation end zen zey end up togezzer. I vas never part of ze end goal.”

“So that’s why you’re sad? Because you feel left out?”

“I-- NO! I am not sad, Pinkie Pie! I am fine! Perfectly fine, zank you! Good night!” She stormed away, leaving a stunned Pinkie behind.

***

When she arrived home a few minutes later, she hesitated, hoof hovering over the doorbell. Would Aloe still be awake? Perhaps the door was still unlocked. As she moved to try the knob, however, she saw that somepony had left a thick envelope balanced precariously on top. In big, curly, pink letters, it said “Open When Ready”.

Pinkie Pie. Of course. Well, she had begun to feel a little guilty about snapping at the poor mare like that. She had only been trying to help in her own weird, unfiltered way. So Lotus pulled open the flap. A small magenta notebook fell out, followed by a folded piece of paper. She picked up the note first.

Dear Lotus,

We didn’t have time to finish our conversation due to you stomping off in a grumpy huff. But that’s okay! I know you were upset, and not everypony who’s upset wants to talk about it right away, or ever at all sometimes. If you opened this letter before you were ready to hear my advice, please put the note and book back inside and close it up again until you are.

…

Still reading? Okie-doke! You said you were having a really nice time, but then it got cut short, but I don’t think that was ‘cause the restaurant exploded. You could’ve gone to another restaurant, or to the movies, or back to the Boutique even, just to hang out and talk about fashion. It got cut short because Rarity told you that she had her eye on somepony else. I know you like to work. You’re all super-serious about the spa and stuff, and that’s okay! Twilight and Rarity can be the same way sometimes, and Applejack is like that pretty much all the time, so I get it!

But maybe you’re looking for something more. Maybe you want something new, different, interesting. Maybe you want romance.

I don’t know that for sure, I’m just guessing. You said you were enjoying the date, so… seemed plausible. But let’s say I’m right. That’s what the book is for! As you probably know, I know everypony in Ponyville. I know everypony’s name, birthday, address, favorite flavor of ice cream, and more. So I made you this little pink book of ponies that you might like to try dating sometime! Most of them are in Ponyville. There are a few that aren’t, marked with a purple tick-mark followed by where they’re actually from.

Use it when you want to, if you want to at all. It’s all up to you. Whatever makes you happy.

-Pinkie Pie

P.S.: Yes, the door is locked.

P.P.S.: No, Aloe hasn’t gone to bed. She’s still waiting for you to come in and gossip all about the evening with her. She doesn’t actually know that the restaurant exploded, so… up to you on how you break that to her.

Lotus let out a strangled chuckle as she glanced from the letter to the book, internally taking back everything she’d ever said against Pinkie Pie. It was bizarre. Sometimes, she could swear that that mare could read minds. Then, she noticed a little arrow marked ‘over’ on the bottom of the page.

P.P.P.S.: No, I’m just a really good guesser.

The chuckle was louder and much warmer this time as Lotus pressed the doorbell and heard the familiar quick patter of her twin’s hooves coming down the hall. Perhaps tonight hadn’t ended so terribly after all.

Author's Note

In order; a sweet ending, a bittersweet ending, and a semisweet ending.

For a given value of 'ending', anyway. There's still two chapters to go. It's all fluff and sweetness from here. Bring on the train of cotton candy.

The Next Three Months

“Bleaaaaah…” Spike said, staring into the mirror. He flicked his tongue out. In. Out. In.

Starlight frowned at him. “Can't you just brush your teeth?” she said reproachfully.

Spike turned to look at her. “Eckthcuthe me? Hath it ethkaped you how freakin’ awethome thith ith?”

The pink unicorn scrunched up her nose and closed her eyes to block out the onslaught of spittle. “Yes. Yes it has,” she said neutrally. “I’m happy for you, Spike, but I don't think this is a particular upside of your growth.”

The dragon stuck his tongue out, perhaps in an attempt to blow a raspberry at the unicorn. All that came out, however, was a drawn-out, rattling hiss. He crossed his eyes in an attempt to see his tongue, and for all her irritation Starlight simply had to smile.

She quickly covered it with a hoof when the dragon glared at her. “Fine. Tho a forked tongue ithn’t that utheful. Tho thue me for being exthithed that I’m akthually growing up?”

Starlight let her hoof drop back to the smooth crystal of the bathroom floor. “I’m just happy that you're happy, Spike.” She paused. “Well, I’m also happy that Fluttershy recommended you a speech therapist, but it's mostly because you're happy that I'm happy.”

The dragon grinned. “Well, I’m happy you're happy becauthe I'm happy,” he said. Then he paused. “Huh. You think thith thort of feedback loop is how Pinkie functionth?”

“I don't doubt,” Starlight said.

The dragon hummed. “Hey, Thtarlight.”

“Yeah?”

“Maybe a forked tongue ithn’t very utheful,” Spike said, picking up the toothbrush by the wrong end. “But do you know what is?”

Starlight’s eyes went wide as the dragon’s tongue flicked out and wrapped around the toothbrush handle before pulling it back into his mouth. “Prehent’ile tung,” he said indistinctly through a mouthful of toothpaste and a broad grin. Starlight stared, frozen and covered in toothpaste spittle.

***

Spike scowled, arms crossed over his chest. Apple Bloom was clearly doing her best not to laugh. Granny Smith clearly had fewer compunctions, and the old mare was bent double over her walker, busting a gut. “Yeah, yeah, very funny,” the drake grumbled. “Somepony get me outta here before my neck goeth stiff?”

Applejack shook her head. “How’d’y’all even get into this mess ta start with?”

Spike grumbled too low for anypony to hear. “Come again, sugarcube?”

“I forgot my spineth had osthified,” Spike repeated hotly.

Applejack looked blank. “Turned ta bone,” Mac supplied from the other side of the tree.

“How’d ya know that off th’ top o’ yer noggin?” Applejack asked, impressed.

Mac smirked. “Discord tried ta noogie ‘im at O’n’O last Saturday,” he replied.

Spike smiled for a second at the memory. “Tho, uh, about getting me unstuck?”

Applejack studied the tableau. The dragon’s tail was whipping around in agitation. Absently, she noticed the tip must be ossi-whatsit-ing, too, as it was fading from purple into green. The rest of his beanpole body was twisted over, his spines well and truly embedded in the bark of Jake. “What exactly were ya tryin’ ta do ta this here tree?” she asked.

Spike shifted, now even more uncomfortable. “Can we thave my neck firtht before I anthwer that? Only I think it's going numb.”

Applejack sighed. “Mac, come round here an’ tug,” she ordered. Her brother nodded, and both Apples trotted around the tree. Mac stood and gripped Spike tightly around the chest. “On mah say-so,” Applejack said firmly.

“Uh, what'th going on?” Spike said nervously.

Mac just gripped tighter. “Pull!” Applejack said. A split second later, there was a thump as the mare's hooves hit the trunk.

Spike stumbled backwards and toppled over Mac. Both of them landed in the dust. There was a long moment. “Ow.”

“Eeyup.”

Applejack trotted back around. “Now, s’pose ya explain what yer doin’ assaultin’ innocent apple trees,” she said, voice tinged with impatience.

Apple Bloom chuckled. “Aw, Ah kin tell ya that, sis. We were talkin’ bout th’ Power Ponies, see, an’ he said that Radiance was hookin’ up with Humdrum but Ah said it was purty plain she was with Mistress Marevelous, right? An’ he gets so fed up he tries ta bang his head on a tree. An’ he gets stuck!” She burst out laughing all over again.

Spike crossed his arms. “Laugh all you like, Bloom, at leatht Radrum has a canon kith.”

The filly snorted. “Sure. On th’ cheek.”

Applejack was unamused. “Awright, that's enough. No more talk ‘bout, what's it called, shipping Radrum or Marediance or nothing if it's gonna be this much trouble.” The words were foreign on her lips and felt contrived to her mind.

“That's right,” Mac agreed, and Applejack felt a wash of relief. At least he knew what he was talking about. “Anyhow, Radizapp is th’ only believable ship Radiance’s got!”

And there went the relief. Applejack sighed and turned beseechingly to Granny. The old mare scowled. “Radizapp mah sweet patootie! All them tights-wearin’ gang are doin’ it ah tell ya! They're a herd an’ no doubt about it, an’ ah wouldn't be none too surprised if that Mare-Do-Well had more ta do with ‘em than crossovers!”

Applejack shut her eyes and walked away, shaking her head.

***

“Okay,” Lyra said, studying Spike minutely. “Now, you have been practicing, right?”

The dragon looked affronted. “Of courthe,” he rumbled. He coughed, then squeaked, “You remember I live with Twilight, right?”

The mint mare chuckled. “Very true. Alright, I want you to start with longevity and temperature control.” She levitated over two thick metal plates and a little filament. “Get soldering.”

Spike put on a pair of tinted goggles. Then he took in a deep breath through his nose and pursed his lips as though to whistle. A thin gout of green-white flame shot out, and Lyra glanced away. Twilight stared for a moment longer through a welding mask. Then she too looked away. “I don't think I ever said, but I really can't thank you enough for this,” she said in an undertone. “I was going crazy trying to teach him new spells on my own.”

Lyra patted her old friend on the withers. “Ah, it was nothing,” she said breezily. “I'm just happy you thought to ask me. Getting to work with an actual, natural magic-born dragon? Tartarus, I would've been crazy to say no.”

“I take it this is a big deal, then.”

Lyra stared at her. “Twilight, do you know anything about cryptobiology? Magic-born dragons are incredibly rare, and incredibly powerful. And that's all anypony knows about them. All the lore is just, well, legends, filtered through actual generations of ponies. The best sources we have are from the longma, and those are older than the princesses.” She waved a hoof. “You couldn't pay me to not check this out.”

Spike suddenly cut off, wheezing. Lyra turned and levitated the piece of metal away from him. She held it up close to her face, so near she could feel the heat radiating off of it. “Not bad. It's a clean solder, what there is of it. I see we're going to want to work on endurance.” She nodded. “Right. Telekinetic drills today, I think.”

Spike groaned. “Aw, man. Thothe are the worth— worst,” he corrected himself. “I wanted to learn how to breathe lightning.”

“Ooh, that sounds awesome!” Lyra agreed, eyes sparkling. “I think with practice, you could even try out transfiguration spells!” She caught herself, glancing over at Twilight. “But not right now. Right now, I want you to levitate that table for as long as you can, and when you’ve done that, I want you to do it for twice as long. And then we can have ice cream. Ok?”

Spike sighed. “Alright,” he said dutifully.

Twilight smiled. “I see he's in good hooves here. I need to go now, though, there's a trade deal with the reindeer that I’ve been sent to work out. See you both later!” There was a flash of lavender light, and she was gone.

Lyra waited a moment. “Okay, I think she was legit.”

Spike grinned. “So, what’re we really going to try today?” he asked, voice cracking like a dropped vase.

“Oh, I don't know, maybe a little thing I like to call… transforming me into a human!” Lyra grinned widely, pulling out a spellbook.“We’ll start small, of course, turtles into teapots, water into wine, stuff like that.”

“Awesome,” Spike said, taking the book from the unicorn. Then, he paused. “Hey, Lyra. Do you think maybe we should actually work on technique one of these days?”

The mare just raised an eyebrow at him. “Right, right, silly question,” Spike nodded. “Bring on the teapot-to-be!”

***

Dragon Lord Ember regarded the purple drake with a thoughtful glint in her eye. He smiled nervously. “Uh, Ember? Are you going to order a drink, or…”

She blinked. Spike and… bug king… were staring at her oddly, and the red-purple pony was merely gazing up at her colossal form with bored, patient eyes. “Uh, mead. With crushed rubies.”

The pony shook her (his? They all looked the same…) head. “Sorry, no rubies today. We've got sapphire or garnet, though.”

“Mph. How about pyrite?”

“Sure,” said the probably-a-mare, jotting it down in her notebook. “One tutti-frutti-root beer, a crushed-sapphire lemonade, and a mead with pyrite.” She trotted back into the bar. Ember was frankly amazed that the whole place was made of wood. In the Dragonlands, anything wooden ended up as cinders pretty darn quick.

“So, Spike,” said bugpony, leaning on the table. “How’s your, um, growth been coming?”

Her fellow dragon shrugged. “Pretty okay, I guess.” His voice was deeper, now that he had grown some, Ember noted. He wasn’t anywhere near her stature, but it wasn’t a small growth spurt by any means.

“Twilight thinks I'm progressing pretty well, but she doesn't have much data to run with. Actually, I was hoping Ember could shed some light on some stuff.”

She cocked her head. “Uh, yeah, I guess. What's been eating you?”

Spike shifted uncomfortably. “Well, see, I’ve been getting all these weird urges lately,” he said in an undertone. “Whenever I see something, I just get this desire to wrap my claws around it and take it. It's been keeping me up at night, and--”

“Oh-kay!” green bug said, cutting across his friend. “Uh, maybe this should be a private conversation, Spike.” Wait. Why was green bug pink?

Spike rolled his eyes. “Thorax,”— thatwas his name!— “I’m not talking about the birds and the bees, here. I had that talk with Twilight already.”

Borax blinked. “The what and the who? I thought you were talking about your love intake.”

Ember snorted. “Dragons don't have that, Lorax,” she reminded him.

“It's Thorax,” said Pharynx.

“Right, what I said,” Ember replied. “Anyway, that's just your hoarding instinct kicking in. You're going to want to start collecting precious stuff, then sleep on that. Normal dragon behavior.”

Spike winced. “I dunno. The last time I gave into the Greed Growth was kind of--”

Ember all but slammed her fist on the table. “You what?” she demanded, breathing heavily. “How is Ponytown—”

“Ponyville.”

“That's what I said, Appendix. How is it not a smoking ruin?”

“I got better,” Spike protested.

Ember glared. “Obviously,” she grated. “You will explain. Later. Anyway, this is not Greed Growth. Greed Growth is the hoarding instinct denied for too long, bursting out of you. The hoarding instinct, that's just the dragon way. We keep stuff. Shiny rocks, gold, armor, stuff like that. Valuables. Helps us gain self-importance, so it helps us grow.”

Spike nodded. “Okay… but how do I keep it in check?”

“You give in,” Ember said simply. “You either let it out slowly, stay in control, or you let it build up until it explodes.” She shrugged. “You don't have to sleep on it if you don't want to. It usually helps, though.”

Larynx nodded. “I guess I see what you mean,” he said (wait. Asterix was a he, right?). “It's like with Changelings. Under Chrysalis, when we were all starving, it would be pretty easy to drain a pony dry of love. But now that we have a more available supply, none of our sources get hurt.”

Ember shrugged. “Sure, if you like.”

Spike nodded slowly. “Okay… I guess I can start collecting, um, books. Those can be pretty valuable. Twilight can get me started, and I've got a bunch of comics, too.”

Sardonyx turned to Ember. “So, uh, what do you collect?”

Ember glanced at the Bloodstone Scepter, leaning against the table. It was a touch disfigured with dents and bumps, now. A slow grin crept across Ember’s face as she remembered some of the fun she'd been able to have with Garble and some other old enemies, and how nearly half of one wall of her room was covered in little crossed-out dragon silhouettes.

“Points,” she said, sharp, sparkling teeth gleaming in the sunlight.

***

Spike, for all his recent growth, remained utterly unchanged in some regards. He read comics. He played tabletop games with Macintosh, Discord, and some other local nerds. He still loved and respected Twilight as a big sister/mother/dangerous but beloved eccentric best friend. And he was still very much not a morning person. He grumbled to himself as he gently flicked his alarm clock off with a claw, and they were proper claws now, yellowed and bony things that had broken painfully through his fingers and toes and needed careful filing.

His head listed lazily to one side as he rose from the bed, something which he attributed to his cricked neck. He had to be careful about sleeping on his back, these days. His tough spines could easily rip any pillows, so he’d taken to snoozing on his side in the new, full-sized bed Twilight had given him some weeks ago, after he had well and truly outgrown his old basket. He scratched his chin idly as he walked to the bathroom. He stared blankly at the mirror for a long moment. Why was he here? What was the purpose of life? Why was there a pillow attached to his head? Was meaning inherent in words, or assigned randomly?

Oh. Cold water. Face. Apply to. He splashed himself liberally. It helped. Slightly. Spike grunted and went down to breakfast.

The table was empty. Spike processed this. “Twilight?”

“Yes, Spike?” the alicorn replied. The voice had come from… the kitchen. Good sign.

“When's breakfast?”

“Just a sec. I’m finishing up the scrambled eggs now.” Twilight said. “Starlight and Sunburst still aren't up, I take it?”

Spike blinked. “Nah.”

“Huh. Well, more for us, then,” Twilight said cheerfully. Her innate morning cheerfulness wore at the dragon. He lay his head on the table. So soft, cozy, like a pillow had already been set down for him. Maybe he could close his eyes for just a few more minutes…

“Hope you're hungry,” Twilight said as she left the kitchen, levitating plates of scrambled eggs, biscuits, hay bacon, and muffins behind her. “I figured since we had a guest I’d make a little extra, but—” she cut herself off with a sigh. Spike was snoozing away on the table. He’d even brought along a pillow with him! Twilight may have loved him like a little brother/son/devoted but slightly paranoid best friend, but she refused to stand for sleeping at the table. “Spike,” she said firmly, setting down the plates. “Wake up.”

No dice. The alicorn shrugged. Plan B it would be, then. She lit her horn, and a sound like a cannon tore through the room. Spike’s head jerked up. “Ah! The answer is C! Propraetor-General Cyclone!”

Twilight raised a brow. “Were you taking a history test… in your sleep? Spike, I have never been more proud…” she paused. “How did you manage to impale a pillow on your head-fins?”

Spike blinked at her stupidly, then reached up to rub at said fins. “Ow!”

He jerked his hand away, more out of surprise than pain. “Horns,” he muttered, incredulous. “I have horns.”

Twilight carefully pulled the impaled pillow off the dragon’s head. “I think this may call for a new sleeping situation,” she said thoughtfully. “That, or learning to file down some of your sharper parts.”

Another explosion rocked the room. “The castle is under attack!” a female voice shouted. “Man the battle stations!”

“Beds don't have battle stations!” a male voice shouted back. “What do we do?”

“Make some!”

Spike and Twilight stared at one another. “We're gonna end up with the world’s biggest pillow fort, aren't we,” Twilight said.

Spike nodded. “Wanna go help?”

The alicorn hesitated. “Breakfast first?”

“Sure.”

“No, Sunburst, flying buttresses first, tapestries last!”

“This is a flying buttress!”

Twilight sighed. It was hard being the only morning person in the castle.

***

“The dread dragon Vortigern stalks toward its prey,” Spike murmured, peering around a corner. The Crusaders were wandering along the corridors of the darkened castle. Not only were they slowly picking their way through the dark, they were even walking away from him. This would be too easy.

On silent, sock-clad feet, he slipped stealthily down the hallway, keeping to the pillars and shadowy corners. He’d painted himself midnight blue to better blend with the icy colors of the crystal castle at night. Not that it mattered; in this level of light, ponies could barely see at all. He, on the other hoof, had built-in night vision. Tapetum lucidum, Twilight had called it. He’d had it all his life, but with his new size and speed, he could finally use it for this prank.

He chuckled under his breath, but stopped when Button Mash glanced back. “Did you guys hear something?” he asked, stepping a little closer to Sweetie Belle.

“I don't think so,” Rumble said.

They continued along. Spike slipped silently after them. He wished he'd thought to bring a cloak, or maybe a fake moustache. Add to the epicness. While he was thinking about that, he banged his shin on a lump of crystal. He cursed quietly.

“Ah!” Sweetie said, smashing into Button’s side. “Now I heard something!”

“It's your imagination,” Dinky said. “I tried to tell you guys not to play Last Weekend at Freddie’s, but you didn't listen.”

Apple Bloom nodded sagely. “Ya shoulda played that there Adventure Plumber Brothers Beat Up Evil Spiny Turtle-Dog and Save a Princess. Ain't nopony gets nightmares offa that.”

“Says you,” Scootaloo said. “Rainbow Dash won't let that game in her house. Says it scares Tank.”

Spike shuddered. He wasn't exactly fond of that game either. He did not give out free piggyback rides, thanks much, especially if the rider shoved him into a spike pit just to jump higher. He snapped out of it just in time to realize the Crusaders were rounding a corner. He quickly hurried after them, still sneaking along from pillar to pillar. He skidded around the corner and realized he was set to crash straight into a suit of armor. He hit the brakes, digging his claws in, but remembered too late that he was in socks. He decelerated, bracing for the inevitable impact. It never came. He stopped just before the armor, chest to crest.

Whew, he thought to himself. Close one. He let out the breath he hadn't realized he’d been holding.

“AAHHH!” Sweetie and Button screamed, clinging together.

“Button!” Sweetie shouted.

“Sweetie!” Button yelled.

“SAVE MEEEE!” they wailed in perfect harmony.

“Oh for crying out loud.” Scootaloo turned around to glare at a spot in the shadows. “Knock it off, kerosene-breath, before you give both of them an apoplexy!”

Spike hung his head and slunk out of the shadows, under the silent stare of the six. “How did you know it was me?” he asked plaintively.

The orange filly rolled her eyes. “Exactly who else around here has flashlights for eyes?” she asked.

“Oh,” said Spike. “Huh. Yeah. I remember Twilight really freaking out about that when I was hatched.”

“Get thou back, demonspawn!” the kindergarten-age unicorn said, holding aloft an emblem of Princess Celestia’s cutie mark. “Begone and trouble us no further!”

The nightmare creature blinked. “Wanna glass of water,” it said.

“If such is sacrificed,” said Twilight in what she probably thought was a dramatic tone, “wilt thou then retire from whence you came?”

The being thought about this. “Twiley tuck me in an’ read me bedtime story?” it asked hopefully.

“The pact has been sealed,” said the unicorn, as gravely as a six-year-old filly possibly could. “The deeds will be done as you command, o master of darkness.”

The creature grinned, showing its few teeth, terrible and sharp. “Gimme cookie?”

“Nay, say I, forsooth thy teeth have been brushed already once tonight! Water, tucking-in, and a story will be all which you receive, for it is late and past both our bedtimes!”

The demon-child sighed. “Okee. Carry?”

Twilight frowned. “It shall so be,” she said reluctantly, picking up the little dragon and popping him on her back.

Night Light watched them go with deep paternal fondness as he stood in the doorway to the master bedroom. “They grow up so fast, don't they, hon?”

Twilight Velvet glanced up from her typewriter and smiled at her husband. “Yes. We should really make the most of our time with her.” The smile faded. “Nightie, your mane is turning back into fronds again.”

“Oop!” The stallion ran a hoof over the back of his head. “Shoot. Maybe we should see a doctor about that. Or a licensed mage. Or somepony.”

“I mean, that was also when she was going through her demonology phase, so I guess that had something to do with it, too.” Spike concluded.

The Crusaders just stared at him. “Y’all had one weird-flank childhood, didn'tcha,” Apple Bloom observed.

Spike smiled. “Says the filly who tried to get her cutie mark in quiltmaking, ethical dilemmas, abecedarianism, hallucinating, and bocce ball all in the last week.”

“Statement rescinded,” Bloom said without a blink.

Rumble coughed. “So, if you're all finished with sneaking around in the shadows, any chance you can help us find our camp again?”

Spike shrugged. “Sure. What's this all in aid of again?”

“Indoor survival cutie marks,” Dinky informed him.

“We were gonna do outdoor survival, but it's really cold out and there are bats.” Button explained.

“Fair enough,” Spike said. Then he sniffed at the air. “Is that smoke?”

“Rumble, did you remember to put out the campfire?” Dinky asked.

The colt’s eyes went wide. “I thought that was your job!”

The Crusaders all stared at each other in horror. Spike sighed. “Never mind. Everypony this way. It's honestly kinda sad that we have a fire escape route for a building made entirely of crystal…”

Author's Note

Short, sweet, and funny; a break from all the heavy emotions that have been flying around this story. Up next, the final chapter of this tale.

Thursday Again

Early Morning: The day of Spike’s birthday dawned with little pomp. That was, however, only because Pinkie wasn’t awake yet. Applejack, on the other hoof, was able to watch the sun rise up over the horizon as she took a deep drink of her apple juice. Today held a good deal of work; they were right in the middle of harvest season, after all, and all today’s chores had to be finished before it was time for the party. There was a faint clatter behind her, followed by some big muffled thuds, and she perked her ears up.

“You two’re awake awful early.”

Apple Bloom trotted in first, Big Mac trailing her like a big old faithful hound. Their actual faithful hound, no doubt, was still curled up at the foot of Granny’s bed. “Aw, can’t we jes’ eat breakfast with our favorite sister?” Apple Bloom asked, smiling winningly.

Applejack smirked back. “Does that mean you’re Mac’s least favorite sibling?”

“Don’t drag me into this,” Mac grumbled. “Else Ah might change up th’ rankin’s.”

His sisters both chuckled as Bloom grabbed out the cereal. “Ah take it you both’re tryin’ ta get a head start on work today?” Applejack guessed.

“Well, Ah mean, duh,” Bloom shot back. “Pinkie said she was gonna throw th’ biggest party in town fer the biggest dragon in town.”

Mac swallowed a bite of his cornflakes. “Won’ actually be true if that Lord Ember comes round fer ‘nother visit.”

“Hey! Don’t go splittin’ hairs! What if Pinkie hears an’ only makes th’ second-biggest party she can?”

“Then it’ll still be a great party an’ we’ll all have a nice time,” Applejack said, spreading some butter on her toast.

“Maybe y’all’ll meet a nice mare there,” Apple Bloom teased. “Ah bet us Crusaders kin--”

“NO!” her siblings both shouted in unison, loud enough to shake the ceiling. All three glanced up, fearful of waking Granny. But no cantankerous old mare sounds came from upstairs.

“Was only a joke,” Bloom muttered, face red.

Applejack sighed. “Sugarcube, why can’t ya jes’ think that love is gross an’ kisses give ya cooties, like Ah did when Ah was yer age?”

Mac rolled his eyes and muttered something about how he’d never quite stopped.

“Honestly, Bloomers, don’ Ah get enough o’ that from Granny? ‘When you gonna settle down with a nice mare, adopt a kid, at least go fer a roll in th’ hay,’ all that stuff. Wouldn’t be so bad if she didn’t get out all her stories ‘bout Grandpappy Jonagold all th’ time.”

All three winced. They all knew the stories about Grandpappy Jonagold. And all the stories about Apple Schnapps, Pink Lady, Cocktail Lemon, and all of Granny’s other old flings. They didn’t know all the ones about Red Delicious, but that was only because they forcibly repressed all memories of those conversations. And the letters. And the photographs. Also the slideshow. As cousin Braeburn had put it, it was a dang good thing that Red Delicious apples were so terrible, because he could never look at them the same way again. Much as she disliked hearing bad things about any variety of apple, Applejack had to agree both that that particular name was a lie and terrible travesty and that she would never, under any circumstances, put one in her mouth for a variety of reasons.

“Talkin’ of Granny,” Mac said. “Don’t ya reckon she’s bein’ awful quiet? We ain’t exactly keepin’ it down out here.”

Applejack frowned and opened her mouth to reply, when she was interrupted by a scratching at the door.

Bloom turned the knob and Winona burst in, panting and jumping around excitedly. “Whoa there! Down girl,” Applejack scolded. “Now, how did you get outside, huh? Usually, you wake up with… Granny Smith.”

Collectively, the three siblings glanced out the door, dead silent.

In the distance, they could hear the clear sound of hooves striking wood, followed by the unmistakable sound of apples falling into a bucket. “Guess she don’t wanna miss th’ party, either,” Mac said.

***

Midmorning: Spike rushed down the stairs, almost tripping over his own oversized feet as he stumbled along, still half-asleep. “Sorry I’m late, Twilight, my alarm didn’t go… off…”

Twilight smirked. “Forget your own birthday, Spike? You’ve got the day off cooking.”

Spike wiped sleep from his eyes while Starlight chuckled. “Only for a little,” he replied. “The whole ‘oh no, I’m late’ thing kinda took precedence.”

“And you didn’t stop to wonder why we didn’t wake you?” Starlight asked.

“Again, panicking. And, well, I can certainly see why.” Spike eyed the pony-sized plate of pancakes. “How long did it take you to make all these?”

Twilight shrugged. “Not as long as it could have. I made a whole batch of batter all at once, and Starlight cooked them.”

“Well, for a given value of ‘cook’,” Starlight admitted. “I don’t know if enchanting a frying pan to move by itself counts.”

Twilight grimaced. “Yes. Most of the actual work time was trying to get it to stop.”

“Oh. Wow.” Spike looked at each of them in turn. “Thanks! Uh, you wanna take yours off the pile first?”

“Oh, we already ate ours,” Starlight said. “Encasing an enchanted frying pan in stone takes a lot out of you.”

“Ah. Okay, then.” Spike slumped forward a bit.

Twilight noticed. “I could eat another one or two with you, Spike.”

He brightened slightly. “Alright.”

Twilight took a couple off the pile and put them on her own syrupy plate. “So, got any big plans for today?”

“Well, I’ve gotta go over and get my final fitting at Rarity’s, and magic lessons with Lyra. Other than that… uh, no. I guess not, except for the party tonight.”

Twilight nodded. “Alright, then. By the way, you got the day off breakfast, but all your other usual chores still apply.”

“Aw, c’mon Twilight…”

“And when you’re done, I'll give you your birthday present.”

Spike paused and gestured at the pancakes. “You mean this wasn’t it?”

“Yep.”

Spike considered this. “Okay. Pass the syrup?”

Twilight grinned. He might have sprouted less like a weed and more like bamboo, but she still knew how her baby dragon ticked.

***

Meanwhile, at Fluttershy’s cottage, the pegasus was sipping her morning cup of tea and wrapping her birthday present for Spike, a book on bird-spotting for his hoard. Just as she was tucking in the ends of the ribbon, there was an explosion on the other side of the table. She didn’t even look up. “Good morning, Discord. Would you like some breakfast?”

“That’s very kind of you, my dear, but I’ve just come from tea with my old friend the Hatter. Perhaps I should introduce you to him sometime; his best friend is a hare, you know, you’ve got that in common.”

Fluttershy smiled politely. “That sounds very nice, Discord. But if you aren’t here for breakfast, is there anything you wanted to ask me?”

Lika ‘would you go on another date with me?’ she thought, though she held out little hope.

“Well, as it happens,” Discord said, eyes gleaming. Fluttershy’s heart sped up. “I thought you might like to take a peek at my present for dragon-boy before its grand reveal at the party.”

Her heart slowed again. She smiled, regardless. “I’d love to, Discord.”

They grinned and pulled from out of nowhere a book. Its cover was black-- or was it very dark blue? Embossed on it was a white image, some kind of octopus-- or was it gold, and the light was just making it look white? “The Alicron,” Discord said with pride. “For his hoard. He can’t read it, obviously, not unless he wants to risk potential punishments ranging from death to madness to papercuts, but I feel that no library is really quite complete without it.”

“Hhhheuuuuh,” Fluttershy whimpered.

Immediately, Discord looked contrite. “Oh. Yes. The cover is also slightly maddening. Best get a dust jacket on there.”

They clicked their fingers, and suddenly the book was clad in a parka and Fluttershy’s head was much clearer. “It’s, um, nice,” she said cautiously. “What exactly is it about?”

“Me,” Discord said breezily. “And Sunbutt and Moonbutt, naturally, Princess Candyflanks, even our dear local egghead, and all the other immortals as well. A very interesting read, if you’ve the mind for it.”

“Oh. Um, well, perhaps you should consider something he can actually use.”

Discord frowned. “He can still use it. He could sleep on it and receive feverish dreams of prophecies and unearthly cities. Or he could use it as a paperweight!”

Fluttershy bit her lip. Discord rolled his eyes. “Fine. I only got it because Mac already got him the latest O&O hoofbook. I’ll just get him some nonsense verse or something. What are you giving him?”

Discord took the jacket off the book, revealing that it had turned into something called Llapit Snoodgramp. Fluttershy pulled out her own gift. “It’s for birdwatchers,” she explained. “There are some very nice pictures.”

Discord looked at the present enviously. “That’s some very nice wrapping, Fluttershy.”

She knew what came next. “Thank you, Discord. Would you like me to wrap your present, too?”

“That would be lovely. Thank you, Fluttershy.”

They sat there for the rest of the morning while Discord changed their mind about what book they ought to give Spike no less than thirty-seven times.

***

Late Morning: Rarity hummed to herself as she pushed the needle through the lining for the last time. Binding the thread to the fabric, she looked over her work. “There,” she sighed. “Very nice.”

She didn’t often work with tweed. It wasn’t very fashionable these days, and never had been as far as the upper classes seemed concerned. Only a very few commissions came her way that requested tweeds, except for a few of the more down-to-earth landowners. For Spike, however, it worked. The suit was a nice, warm shade of brown, like early autumn. She had included a deep green tie to match his eyes, and the buttons were made from carved bronze. All told, it was not typical of the Carousel Boutique’s output, a singular garment that didn’t quite seem normal for an evening out. And yet, it was beautiful. Rarity smiled to herself. A perfect fit, once again. She had cherished the measuring sessions and frequent fittings for this outfit, partly because it had helped her to work out Spike’s final dimensions and partly because-- well-- he had been more open with her than she had ever known him. Some wall in him had crumbled, and now he was able to pour out his old fears and concerns.

All his life, Spike had told her on one such occasion, he had felt like a contradiction; a dragon dreaming of heroics, a civilized beast, full grown and still childlike in aspect. Drake and pony, adult and infant, avarice and generosity all warred for control. He had felt like a paradox. His desires and ambitions seemed to disagree with his physical form. Or, well, he hadn’t put it like that exactly. Rarity had been obliged to put that little monologue together from what he had told her.

Now it seemed that paradox had been resolved; Spike had learned a valuable lesson, likely something about true character lying on the inside or not needing to be only one thing, was therefore much more content with himself, etc., etc.

There was a squeak in the floorboard just outside the door. Rarity smiled softly. “Yes, Sweetie Belle?”

“How did you know I was there?” Sweetie asked, pushing open the door.

“Elder sister superpowers,” Rarity returned with a smile. “Was there something you wanted?”

“Just wanted to see if you’d finished Spike’s suit.”

“As it happens, you’re just in time.” Rarity lifted up the suit. “What do you think?”

“Wow,” Sweetie said. “It looks really nice. I bet he’ll love it!”

“Certainly he will. It’s a Rarity exclusive, after all.” She noticed that Sweetie’s face had suddenly darkened. “Is something the matter, dear?”

“Well… no, not really.” Sweetie hesitated. “It’s just, won’t he outgrow it soon? Like, maybe really soon?”

Rarity set down the suit on the table once more and gave it a once-over. “I shouldn’t think so. According to Twilight and Ember, he should be about at the end of his present growth.”

“Well, yeah, but I mean-- he just grew ten times his old size in three months!”

“Five times, dear. Don’t exaggerate.” Rarity looked at the suit a little more closely. Was the stitching even all the way around?

“You know what I mean, though,” Sweetie argued. “He isn’t gonna stop growing anytime soon, right? How quickly is he going to outgrow the suit?”

Rarity considered this. “Difficult to say. I suppose it depends on how much he’s willing to grow. Even with improved relations with the Dragonlands, we still know very little about draconic biology. I suppose that's a bridge we'll cross if we arrive at it.”

“Oh. I really hope he likes it, Rarity. I guess he seems more like somepony who would wear a suit these days.”

“What do you mean?”

“Oh, I dunno. He just seems more grown-up these days, haven’t you noticed?”

Rarity raised a brow. “He still reads comics and eats entire tubs of ice cream.”

“You eat entire tubs of ice cream. Anyway, he’s been helping out at Sweet Apple Acres, and he knows magic now, and he can pick up a pony without even breathing hard, and he’s started reading lots of other books besides comics, too.”

“We do not change as we grow older, darling. We simply let ourselves shine through a little more clearly.”
At least, I hope we do, she thought as Sweetie Belle continued to chatter on about how the Crusaders might get their marks as dragon doctors.

***

Early Afternoon: The 1:08 from Canterlot screamed as it pulled into Ponyville Station. Cadence peered out the window, frowning. “That’s odd.”

“What is?” Shining Armor asked, hauling himself to his hooves and pulling Flurry Heart’s portable train seat onto his back.

“I don’t see Twilight anywhere. No Spike either, or Starlight, or any of her other friends.”

“Maybe she’s just running late?” Shining suggested, levitating the snoozing Flurry Heart over to her mommy.

“Shiny, think for a second just who it is that you’re talking about here.”

“Fair point. But it is kind of a big day today. Getting so distracted by the fine details that she forgets to pick her own family up at the station? Not exactly the most out-of-character thing she’s ever done.”

The door to their compartment slid open, revealing the concerned faces of Night Light and Twilight Velvet. “Cadence, dear, you’re an alicorn. Is Twilight being late a sign of the apocalypse?” the latter asked.

“Maybe she just doesn’t care about us anymore,” Night Light worried. “We’ve spent too much time up in Canterlot and never once came to visit in the last four months!”

Cadence raised a brow at Shining, who merely shrugged in surrender. “Now you know where she gets it from,” he said simply.

Cadence smirked. “Yeah. Where she gets it from, Mr. ‘The-Guards-Need-To-Be-Trained-For-The-Yeti-Invasion-Slash-Snowmageddon-Slash-Zompony-Uprising’.”

Shining looked away and grumbled as all five of them exited the train carriage. As they left, a grey pegasus mare trotted up to them. “Hi there! I’m guessing that, given that one of you is a princess, that you’re Twilight’s family?”

Twilight nodded. “That’s right, dear. Has she sent you to take us to the castle?”

“Mhm! Ditzy Doo, local postmistress. I--” she broke off, regarding Night Light with interest. “Hold on. You’re Dr. Night Light! I knew that was Twilight’s dad’s name, but I never made the connection. I’ve been following your research on massive failures.”

Shining Armor squinted. “What, like Betamax?”

Night Light grinned. “No, son. More like black holes. I didn’t realize that many ponies in Ponyville were all that interested in astronomy.”

“My late husband was an astrophysicist. I used to be an engineer. I still follow both fields. Sometimes I even contribute a paper or two.”

The older stallion hummed in recognition. “That’s right, I read something you wrote about electrical power. Interesting stuff, though a little impractical.”

“There’s a great deal of joy to be found in impracticality.”

Cadence shifted awkwardly. “As interesting as this is, can we head up to the castle, please? Flurry Heart will be waking up from her nap soon…”

“Not yet, your highness,” Ditzy said. “You aren’t the only ones I’m escorting today.”

Twilight Velvet tilted her head. “Really? I wish Twilight had told us. We could have met them on the train.”

Ditzy shrugged. “Maybe she didn’t want any accidental diplomatic incidents.”

Shining scowled. “Diplomatic incidents? Miss Doo--”

“Doctor Doo,” his father corrected.

“--We’re all well-versed in international diplomacy. I hardly think--”

He was cut off by a crashing noise behind him. They all turned around to see Flurry Heart, now awake, magically pounding a rack of postcards against the wall, sending pictures and pieces of wood flying in all directions. “Oh,” said Shining. "Point taken."

Ditzy sighed. “Gimme a sec. I brought along a little something for this sort of thing…” She pulled out a large device from her saddlebags, a wheel covered in hieroglyphic symbols, with a carved arrow sitting in the center. “Gift from my sister. It was my daughter’s favorite toy as a baby.” She pulled a length of cord on the side.

The Cow goes MOOO.

Flurry Heart turned around, fascinated. Ditzy pulled the cord again.

The Pig goes OINK OINK.

Flurry let the postcard rack fall to the ground and soared over to Ditzy, who let the infant grab the artifact.

“...Huh,” Twilight said, fascinated.

“Well, that was quite impressive!” a new voice said.

Everypony turned around again, startled. Shining recovered first. “Thorax! You’re here for Spike’s party, too?”

The king of the changelings nodded enthusiastically. “Oh, yes! I’m very interested to see it. I’ve never been to a birthday party before. I’m given to understand it’s an annual ceremony, where the celebrant is surrounded by loved ones, accepts wrapped sacrifices made to their honor, destroys a sacred image of a donkey to receive blessings in the form of sweetmeats, then all the guests gather around a flaming object to chant the annual words of blessings and goodwill before stabbing said object and devouring a piece each. It sounds much more interesting than a molting ceremony! I was honored to attend.”

There was a moment of awkward, horrified silence as the ponies all became suddenly very aware of just how creepy birthday parties could sound. The hippopotamus goes HHHRUNG! said the artifact.

“We’re… all very glad you could make it, dear,” Twilight said, rallying quickly. “Dr. Doo, is this the entire party?”

“No, the entire party is up around the castle. You can tell because there’s cake.”

Cadence opened her mouth to rephrase the question, but Ditzy was still staring up towards the sky. “We can’t head up just yet, though. There’s one more guest that needs to be collected.”

Thorax squinted. “She isn’t here yet? Really?”

“I know, I thought she’d arrive before the train, too. I hope she’s alright.”

“‘She’ who?” Shining asked.

The flap of leathery wings overhead was answer enough as a sapphire-blue dragoness the size of an oak tree came into view over the horizon. Ponies stopped in the streets to grab onto their hats and papers, or to shield their eyes from the vast clouds of dust that blew around the colossal figure as she landed. She glanced around, her orange eyes sweeping the crowd of ponies. When her gaze fell on Ditzy, she relaxed. “Good, you’re still here,” she said in a low boom. “I didn’t mean to be late. There was a hold-up back in the Dragonlands, some problem with the magma flow.” She shrugged. “But if the Dragon Lord can’t take the time for a party, then what dragon can?”

Ditzy smiled. “That’s very true,” she replied. “I suppose we’re all here, now. Shall we head up to the castle?”

The sacrifice to the great Hunthokar goes AAAAAAAAAHHHHHH!

“Oh, right! That’s why I put that toy up in the attic.”

Cadence held out her daughter’s Whammy toy, and the little princess dropped the wheel with a gasp of delight. Ditzy scooped it up, quick as a whip. “Sorry about that. Don’t worry, it’s not cursed anymore, my sister made sure of it, and it’s a hoof-me-down from her daughter, so I’m sure it’s fine.”

Thorax smiled. “Come on! Let’s go chant the ritual day of birthing song!”

So, with varying degrees of trepidation, six ponies, the king of the changelings, and the Dragon Lord went into Ponyville to celebrate Spike’s birthday.

***

Late Afternoon: “Happy birthday, dear Spi-ike! Happy birthday to you!”

Something approaching double the population of Ponyville was gathered outside the castle, with old friends from Canterlot rubbing withers with a group of crystal ponies who had come down to witness the momentous growth of Spike the Brave and Glorious. A group of changelings who had arrived with the birthday gift Thorax had accidentally left at the hive milled around with close Apple family relatives and friends-of-friends from Manehattan, Cloudsdale, and further afield still, including one very confused yak elder. All of them were gathered in the town square, singing the birthday song. In the center of it all, glowing red enough to be mistaken for a fire engine, was Spike.

“Now light the candles!” Ember shouted.

Spike took a deep breath and cast a light spell. Little heatless green flames popped into being over the nineteen candles on top of the cake. It had taken some doing to get him up to the top of the enormous cake; in order to feed all the guests, Sugarcube Corner had constructed a dessert that was nearly the same size as the bakery itself.

A wild cheer went up from the guests as Spike turned and waved to them all, grinning enormously. He heard a slight crack from his spine as he sprouted up a couple more millimeters.

***

Thorax frowned at the cake. “Hmm. Maybe I should have gone through with the whole ‘changeling dancers leaping out of the cake’ thing, after all. It would have been good for bringing in love, but Pharynx wouldn’t let me do it. Ponies do that, right?”

Celestia shrugged. “At some parties, yes. Not generally birthday parties, mind you, and never where parents are present. Anyway, it would have ruined the cake.”

“Huh.” Ember scratched her chin. “Boy, you ponies are weird.”

Luna grinned. “Hey, sister. Do you remember the time when you jumped out of a cake?”

“Luna, that was over fifteen centuries ago.”

“Pfft, as though that would be long enough for me to forget.”

Thorax blinked. “You jumped out of a cake?”

Celestia sighed. “Fine. Yes, I did, but not on purpose. I snuck into the kitchens to have a midnight snack, and it just looked so very tempting. Obviously, I couldn’t eat it normally, or else I should have been rumbled immediately. So, I levitated it off the platter and started eating upwards from the bottom. Before I knew what had happened, I had eaten a hole big enough to sit inside. I was so full and sticky and tired, I fell asleep there and then. I didn’t wake again until somepony tried to cut the cake--”

“Which had been made for a diplomatic meeting with Saddle Arabia,” Luna added cheerfully.

“Yes, quite. Well, I’m sure you can guess the rest. Fortunately, the Caliph at the time was all of ten years old, so the ensuing food fight ensured a good trade deal rather than ruining it utterly.”

Ember looked thoughtful. “Do you think if I--”

“No,” Celestia said firmly. “I was remarkably lucky to get away with it that time. You will not have the same results.”

“And think of all that wasted cake,” Luna tutted.

“I was going to say, do you think that I could deliver a massive cake to my enemies, filled with dragons ready to attack when the cake is cut?”

“It would certainly work on my sister.”

“LUNA!”

***

Evening: It had grown rather late. Between the enormous cake and the pizza party that followed, Twilight suspected that the local eateries might well be able to buy Ponyville, if they were willing to put up with all the admin and localized weekly disasters. Still, everypony looked to be having a nice time, and no major international incidents had occurred just yet, so she was going to chalk the party up as a success.

Virtually every guest had brought along a book for the birthday bo-- birthday drake. Ember had explained the necessity of a hoard to Twilight, Spike had explained his idea for building one, and she and her friends had made sure that this party would buoy him up sufficiently. And if Spike was willing to let Twilight and some other Ponyvillians borrow the odd text every now and again, well, so much the better. Her mouth was still watering over that copy of Lungbarrow that Doctor Whooves had just given away. She’d tried to point out that it could easily sell for a few thousand bits, but he had just smiled and said that he had more copies of it than he knew what to do with.

Spike had been particularly happy with the scrapbook she herself had made for him, detailing his growth from egg to present. He hadn't exactly minded the mint-edition Power Ponies #1 she'd tucked into the cover, either. Being royalty did have its perks.

There had been a couple of exceptions to that rule, naturally. Vinyl Scratch and Octavia had come with a stack of records, for instance, and Discord had eventually decided to give him a large self-portrait. And Rarity, naturally, had given Spike his suit.

On the subject of Rarity, where was she? Twilight had been searching high and low for her for the best part of an hour, but she was nowhere to be found. Nopony seemed to know where she was, either.

Come to think of it, she hadn’t seen Spike for awhile either. She twisted her lip, thoughtful.

“Hey, Twily! Have you seen Starlight anywhere? Cadence and I wanted to ask her something…”

Twilight lifted her chin, reaching a conclusion. “No, I haven’t, sorry Shiny. But could you take me to see Cadence? I need her help with something…”

***

Meanwhile, not far outside Ponyville, a unicorn and a dragon sat in quiet contemplation of the fading light. “Some party, huh?” Spike asked.

Rarity smiled. “Yes. It was terribly nice to see all those ponies again. I didn’t know that Sir Fancy Pants and Dame Fleur de Lis had been invited until I ran into them at the sundae bar.”

“I’m glad you had a nice time.”

“Did you enjoy yourself? It is your party, after all, and here am I, taking you away from it.”

Spike smiled. “I don’t think I’d rather be anywhere else, right now. I’ll be honest, it was all getting a little overwhelming.”

“Yes, I suppose I can understand that,” Rarity agreed. They lapsed back into silence for a long moment. Then, Rarity spoke again.

“Do you remember?”

Spike glanced up. “Remember…”

“A few years ago, you asked to court me.”

Spike looked blank. Rarity sighed. “I believe your exact words were ‘Hey, uh, Rarity, do you want to go to dinner sometime?’”

The dragon’s face split into a grin. “Oh, yeah. Good impression. And you said...” He coughed and strained to raise his voice to a higher register. “~My dear Spikey-Wikey…~” He coughed again. “Nope, can’t do the impression. But you were all ‘when you are of age, I would be glad of your courtship, should you still desire to give it.’”

“‘But for now, let us enjoy one another’s company,’ yes.” Rarity nodded. “I suppose, therefore, my question is this; do you still feel for me now as you did then?”

Spike took a bite of cake and chewed on it slowly. “Rarity…” he said slowly, then sighed. The unicorn’s heart plummeted. “That was puppy love, a kid’s crush. I don’t love you the way I did then.”

“O-oh,” said Rarity, biting her lower lip. “I see.” She slumped slightly.

“Wait, wait, I wathn’t finished!” Spike said, leaning forward, hands waving frantically and eyes going wide. “I wath gonna thay— say, my love for you now is far deeper and truer than any that I have before known!”

There was a silence. Then Rarity pointed an accusing hoof at the dragon. “That was the cheesiest thing that I have ever heard.”

Spike grinned sheepishly. “Sounded better in my head, yeah.”

“Did you get that from a romance novel?”

The dragon went pink. “I— no, I…” he bit his lip. “Look, will you forget I said anything if I invite you to dinner in Canterlot?”

Rarity smiled. “I will gladly accept your invitation,” she said, “but I am never going to forget anything about this moment.” She was delighted to see the darling drake blush even harder.

“It’s a beautiful sunset, isn’t it?” she said, leaning into the drake’s side as she gazed out onto the horizon. “Celestia certainly is putting on a show tonight.”

“Yeah,” Spike agreed, staring in the same direction. “Second-best birthday present I got today.”

“Oh?” Rarity pulled away. “And what was the first?”

He smiled, gazing out at the setting sun. “Not having to be afraid anymore,” he replied simply. Then he glanced at her and gave a slightly goofy smile. “Well. Maybe Celestia’s present is third-best.”

Rarity cogitated for a moment, then pulled the dragon in close and gave him a kiss on the cheek. “Happy birthday, dearest.”

Spike turned his head slightly, still blushing. “Uh, can I…” he tapped his lips.

“Of course.”

They both leaned in. Their lips met, and they stayed that way for a good half a minute, Spike rubbing Rarity’s ears and Rarity holding tight to his shoulders. Eventually, they broke apart, with Spike stopping only for a moment to lick the unicorn’s lips.

Once they had both caught their breath, Spike said, “Actually, all things considered, I think the sunset might be the fourth-best present today.”

Rarity broke into peals of laughter, and after a moment, Spike joined her.

From their vantage point high overhead, Cadence smiled at Twilight. “They grow up so fast, don't they?”

Twilight nodded. “Literally, in this case.”

Cadence glanced down again. “I think we should leave them be, now, don't you?”

Twilight hesitated, but then nodded firmly. “Yes, I think so. Neither of them needs a chaperone. Back to the party?”

“Back to the party,” Cadence agreed, turning around. The duo fluttered back to the castle, leaving the two lovers in privacy.

The End

Author's Note

And that brings us to the end of the story! It took a little longer than I'd expected to finish, but here we are. I hope you all enjoyed it, and I'd like to thank you for taking the time to read all the way through. I'll be returning my attentions to my other story, "Friendship 101: The Final Exam" once my own final exams are over. Expect the next chapter late next week, and I'll try to get regular updates going by next month.

Thursday Afternoon

“Bye, Rarity! Thanks for the gems!” Spike called, hurrying over to Starlight.

“You’re very welcome, darling. If anything, I should thank you for all your assistance today,” Rarity responded, trotting over to the duo. She turned to her fellow unicorn. “And how, may I ask, are you today, Starlight?”

“Oh, um,” Starlight responded, rubbing one hind leg over the other. “Alright, I guess. I spent most of the morning up at Sweet Apple Acres, and this afternoon, I’ve been working on a reversal spell.”

Rarity cocked her head. “Reversing what, darling?”

Starlight smiled widely. “Pretty much anything. The course of rivers, the path of apple carts, the polarity of the neutron flow… I’m still working on entropy, though.”

The alabaster unicorn gaped like a fish. Then, abruptly, she closed her mouth and smiled warmly. “Well, be careful, dear. We don’t want to send the universe back to its beginning, do we?”

“The… universe?” Starlight chuckled. “Oh, no. No, no, I wouldn’t be able to reach that far. The planet, maybe, but not the universe.”

Rarity’s smile abruptly became a little more plastic. “That… was a joke, darling.” She breathed out. “Oh! I was wondering, could you ask Twilight to come over at her earliest convenience? I have a bit of fabric that’s just come in, and I think it would go gorgeously with her coat.”

“Of course,” Starlight replied with a small smile. “What are friends for?”

It hadn’t really been a lie, Rarity told herself. The material would look absolutely glorious on her friend. The fact that she had ordered it especially for that purpose should be immaterial. She glanced out the window, twisting her mane nervously around her hoof. Surely Twilight would arrive shortly? She always made a point of making time for her friends, after all. The unicorn glanced around the room. Good heavens! She hadn’t realized how dreadful that vase looked on the coffee table until now. She quickly picked it up in her aura, levitating it over to the mantle. Better, but now the table looked bare. Some other piece of ornamentation or bric-a-brac could surely replace it. A sculpture? Bowl of fruit? Flowers, perhaps? Yes, that could work. She would go and pick some. No, first she would need a vase. She glanced around. Where was that vase? She had just seen it? There! She levitated the vase off the mantle and onto the table. Flowers. Yes. Garden. Rarity flung open the door and rushed out, abruptly colliding with a lavender mare.

“Oh!”

“Beg pardon, just a moment,” Rarity said, pushing past. Roses would be nice. Yes. Red roses. And, perhaps, something purple to set them off, something to truly make them “pop”, as it were.

“Rarity?”

And then something nice and white to finish the palette. Edelweiss? Daisies? Lilies? No. Not lilies.

“Rarity?”

Edelweiss it would be, then. Did she have edelweiss? No matter, she could buy some in the market.

“Rarity!”

The alabaster unicorn blinked and turned around. “Oh, hello Twilight,” she said with a smile. “I’m afraid I didn’t see you there.”

The alicorn stared. “Uh… huh. Rarity, are you feeling alright?”

“Oh, yes, of course I am, darling. Just a tad… absent.” Rarity replied, smile fading.

Twilight regarded her carefully. Rarity did her best to look as well-balanced as she could. “Alright,” Twilight acquiesced, nodding. “So, you had something you wanted to try on me?”

“Oh! Yes, of course,” Rarity agreed, trotting back through the doors of the Carousel Boutique. “Right this way, darling~”

***

The fabric was quite beautiful. It was a deep, shimmering magenta which seemed to change to anything between violet and saffron, depending on the light. “Well?” Rarity asked, gesturing to it dramatically.

“Oh, Rarity!” Twilight gasped. “It’s gorgeous! I can’t ask you to use this on me. Save it for somepony else.”

“Nonsense, darling! Nopony else could fit it as well as do you.”

Twilight opened her mouth to reply, then frowned. “I… fit the fabric?”

“Of course, darling. Just look at it!”

Twilight looked. “Um,” she said.

Rarity sighed. “Alright,” she said slowly. “Do you remember the first time we all went to the Gala together?”

Twilight rolled her eyes. “How could I forget?”

“Well, quite. And I’m sure you also remember the little problem of the dresses that preceded that ghastly affair.”

“I thought we agreed that we would never mention that again,” Twilight said flatly.

Rarity was undeterred. “Think about the difference between the dresses all of you designed and my finished work. What was different?”

“Your dresses actually looked good?” Twilight guessed drily.

Rarity snickered. “Well, quite. But beyond that?”

Twilight considered. “... Honestly, a list of similarities would be shorter,” she admitted. “I mean, Applejack’s first dress was just sort of… clunky, and Pinkie’s was too out-there…”

“Precisely,” Rarity nodded. “And because of that, the dress distracted from the wearer. Too gaudy, too flashy, too covered in astronomically precise constellations…” Twilight blushed. “... the point of a dress is not merely to look good. The point of a dress is to highlight the wearer’s best features, and that requires a certain matchmaking ability. Picture Rainbow Dash in Fluttershy’s Gala dress, for instance, or Pinkie Pie in yours, and you’ll see what I mean.”

Slowly, Twilight nodded. “I think I see,” she said. “It’s a matter of making a dress that suits a pony’s personality as much as it matches their coat.”

“Precisely,” Rarity said with a nod and a small smile. “It’s also why I prefer meeting a client face-to-face at least once during the process. I tell them it’s a matter of fitting and simply allow them to draw their own conclusions as to what that entails.”

Twilight nodded, slowly running a hoof over the fabric. “I see.”

“Like you, the fabric is impressive without being overtly showy, and adaptable to new situations,” Rarity continued. “Besides, the colors rather do remind one of late evening, do they not?”

Twilight chuckled. “Twilight colors, yes. And it certainly is sparkling.”

Rarity lit up. “You like it, then?”

“Of course!” Twilight grinned. “Have you got any ideas as to—”

Rarity levitated over a stack of papers. “Several.”

***

Fifteen minutes later, Twilight held two designs aloft, examining them minutely. “Well,” she began, “I like elements of both of these two. Is it possible that you might combine them?”

“Yes, darling,” Rarity said absently, staring at a blank piece of paper in front of her.

Twilight frowned slightly. “...And maybe add on some constellations for decoration?”

“Of course, Twilight,” Rarity replied, nibbling on the end of a quill. “I’ve always been fond of the stars.”

Twilight narrowed her eyes for a moment, peering over Rarity’s shoulder. “But then, of course, there’s the question of where the grape jelly should go.”

“Mm, quite,” Rarity agreed. Then she frowned. “Grape jelly?”

“You weren’t listening to a thing I’ve been saying, were you?” Twilight accused.

Rarity flushed. “I— well, I—”

“You didn’t just call me over here for the dress, did you?”

The unicorn stuttered for a moment more, then slumped forward. “No,” she sighed. “What gave it away?”

Twilight pointed a hoof at the scattered paper on the dressmaker’s desk. Rarity glanced at it. “Ah,” she said, reddening. “In retrospect, perhaps I should have hidden that a tad better.”

Upon the papers were quick sketches of dragons of various sizes and shapes, their measurements and ages carefully labeled beside them. On the central one, one particular, rather stubby purple and green figure had been drawn several times over from various angles, alongside annotations which featured copious amounts of question marks. Rarity flushed so deeply that she wouldn’t have looked out of place in her collection of rubies. “I can explain,” she began.

Twilight gave her a long, searching look. “That might be a good place to start,” she agreed. “I’m not sure why you’ve become so obsessed with Spike all of a sudden, but—”

“He never grows,” Rarity said flatly. “He never ages or changes or does anything. You constantly refer to him as being a baby dragon, but Twilight, what age were you when you hatched him?”

Twilight blinked. “Um, about six…”

“And we celebrated your twenty-fifth birthday a few months ago, meaning that Spike is nineteen.”

“...Only eighteen, actually,” Twilight corrected weakly. “At least until September.”

Rarity huffed. “My point stands, regardless. How old does a dragon have to be before he actually ages? I’m aware that Princess Ember, for instance, is only in her late thirties. What kind of growth spurt is he going to have?”

Twilight paused for a moment as Rarity seethed. “Rarity,” she said slowly, “Dragons don’t age like that.”

Rarity paused. “Don’t age like… Don’t be silly, how else would they age? Backwards? Constantly getting smaller as time passes until one day they crawl into an egg and seal themselves up inside?”

Twilight paused. “Well… no. You might be thinking of the trollish theory of time… never mind. Dragons don’t age in the same way that ponies do, constantly growing until they reach an upper limit. Their growth is based on their view of their own importance and maturity.”

Rarity took a moment to process this. “...What?”

Twilight chewed on her lower lip, thinking deeply. “...Like the Greed Growth incident. Spike grew because his self-importance went to his head. Ember’s father was so huge because he’d been in power for most of his life, but she’s relatively small because she’s really new to the job and still unsure of herself.”

Rarity nodded slowly. “And Garble and his cohorts are still relatively small because of their immaturity,” she guessed.

“Exactly,” Twilight nodded.

Rarity turned this idea over in her mind. “So… why is Spikey still so tiny?” she asked with a frown. “He’s certainly more mature than that big red imbecile, and with all of his responsibilities…”

Twilight’s face fell. “I don’t know,” she admitted. “I’ve tried to talk to him about it, but he always manages to avoid the subject.”

The unicorn frowned. “That’s rather unusual,” she said slowly. “How long has this…”

“I only became worried after he helped save the Crystal Empire,” Twilight replied. “All that attention should’ve made him sprout like a weed. Instead, he grew two centimeters taller and one wider.” She shook her head.

“Is that,” Rarity hesitated. “Is that cause for concern at all?”

Twilight shrugged helplessly. “I don’t know! Nopony knows very much about dragons, and dragons don’t really go in for writing medical journals. In the end, it’s more or less up to Spike to decide when he’s ready to grow up.” She looked at Rarity sharply. “Why did you want to know?”

Rarity shook her head. “Merely a trifle, darling. A tad worried about the poor dear. Nothing of too much import,” she replied breezily. “Now, what were you saying about the dresses?”

***

A half hour later, Twilight trotted home to her castle, leaving Rarity to brood in the boutique. Why wasn’t Spike growing? Certainly he wasn’t the most mature of dragons— his obsession with comic books and proclivity to laugh at fart jokes rather precluded that. Nevertheless, he should be taller than that monster Garble and his cohorts, at the very least. How had they gotten to such a height? Rarity wondered idly. By all rights, they should have been no taller than a pony’s knee.

She shook herself out of her tangent. No, Spike wasn’t the most mature of drakes, nor the most masculine, nor yet the most important. Yet, surely he ranked somewhere on those scales! Why, whenever he visited the Crystal Empire, he should have grown a meter in height! Pausing, she took out a quill and ink. She would write out a list of things that Spike had done, compared to other dragons. Topping the list on Spike’s side… she cocked her head and sucked the end of the quill in thought. Sombra’s defeat would be a good place to begin… befriending Thorax ought to be high on the list as well, and Dragon Lord Ember…

So distracted was she by her work that the soft chime of the bell on the door went unnoticed. The sharp slam that followed, however, jolted her from her task. “Sweetie Belle!” she gasped, holding a hoof to her chest. “What have I told you about closing that door?”

The filly winced. “Sorry, Rarity,” she sing-songed.

Rarity sighed. “Never mind. Just try to avoid it in future. How was school?” she added as an afterthought.

“We had a math test today,” Sweetie replied, sticking out her tongue. “Trigonometry, bleah!”

Rarity’s eyebrows rose. “Trigonometry? At your age? That’s rather advanced, isn’t it?”

Sweetie shrugged. “It’s okay, I guess. Scootaloo’s actually really good at it. She says it’s all angles, like flight patterns.”

“Is she really?” Rarity replied, raising an eyebrow. “I wouldn’t have suspected it, myself.”

Sweetie shrugged. “Scoots is actually really smart, if she tries. She just doesn’t wanna try unless it’s something to do with cool stunts.” She glanced over at Rarity’s work table, and her eyebrows rose. “Whoa. What’re you working on?”

Rarity turned and looked at what she had written. For the most part, it consisted of a lot of measurements, a few graphs, and a couple of annotations regarding what little she had read about dragon culture and biology. She deflated, laying her head on the desk. “I have absolutely no idea,” she admitted. “It began as idle curiosity, but now I believe I’m just churning out nonsense and nothing is becoming any clearer!” She slammed her forehooves against the wood of the tabletop.

Sweetie stared. She had never seen Rarity this angry about something that wasn’t related either to the Crusaders or the Boutique. “Um. There, there?” she tried. “Should I... make you some tea?”

Rarity did not snort at that remark. Ladies do not snort. They chuckle, and in extreme cases, they chortle. She has a large collection of extremely sharp needles and very precise aim in case anyone says otherwise. “Thank you, Sweetie, but I feel certain that any relation between you and the kitchen would only result in vastly heightened blood pressure. Remember when you tried to make pizza?”

Sweetie frowned. “I still don’t know where that green stuff came from,” she admitted. “Did Twilight ever say when we could get the pizza pan back?”

“No. I asked, but then she started talking about how you had apparently grown an entirely new form of slime mold. She’s considering naming it in your honor.”

Sweetie absorbed this. “...Can I get a cutie mark in growing slime molds?”

Rarity chuckled weakly. “If you were going to get one, you’d already have it. And no, you may not use my kitchen to try it again.”

“Aw,” Sweetie sighed, kicking the floor. “Well, I hope you feel better soon, Rarity. Maybe your spa day with Fluttershy tomorrow will help?”

“We can but hope,” Rarity sighed. Then, her pupils dilated. “Fluttershy…” she murmured. “Yes, that might just work!” She sat up straight. “Sweetie Belle, you are a genius!”

The smaller unicorn rolled her eyes. “Tell that to my writing homework,” she grumbled, trudging upstairs to her room.

Rarity, meanwhile, couldn’t stop smiling. Never had she needed a spa day to come faster.

Author's Note

Right. Having submitted one story that only just scrapes through on minimum word count, and presently working on one whose chapters are around seven or eight thousand words apiece, I felt that it might be a good idea to seek out a happy medium. If you were anticipating the next chapter of 'The Lost Crusades,' never fear; that ought to be finished fairly soon. In the meantime, enjoy this attempt at a romantic story from someone who's never even wanted a romantic relationship, let alone had one.

Friday Afternoon

Twilight reclined at her desk, thoughtfully tickling her chin with her quill pen. She had a nagging thought nibbling away at the back of her mind, like the catchy radio jingle once heard and never fully removed. Why wasn’t Spike growing? It was a matter of self-esteem, and he certainly wasn’t lacking there— not, at least, so far as Twilight could see. There, she thought, was the problem. She couldn’t see Spike, not properly. She’d raised him from an egg, known him for all eighteen— nearly nineteen— years of his life. She couldn’t see what was wrong if it was something that had always been there.

Obviously, there was only one logical solution. Twilight rose from her desk and exited the room, trotting for the library.

***

Starlight sat hunched over a desk, nibbling at the end of a quill as she pored over the scroll before her, sent all the way from the Crystal Empire. Sunburst had created a new list of spells for her to try out, and while some— okay, most— seemed pretty useless, they all looked pretty interesting. The only question was which to try out first. “Transmute wood into cheese… increase mass without increasing weight… artifice bubbles… disguise horn aura, interesting…”

“Starlight?”

“AHH!” the pink mare wheeled around, tottering dangerously on her chair. “Twilight! Don’t sneak up on me like that!”

“Oh. Sorry. Um, are you busy?”

Starlight sighed, gazing longingly at the list in front of her. “...No,” she said, pushing away from the desk. “Not really. What do you want?”

“Could you take Spike into town for a few errands? I’ve written out a list.” Twilight levitated out a checklist which was (at least by her standards) surprisingly short. Starlight read it over quickly. Flower shop, Quills and Sofas, Sugarcube Corner, Sweet Apple Acres…

“Sure thing, Twilight,” Starlight said, summoning her saddlebags. “Shouldn’t take more than two hours.”

Twilight suddenly distinctly uncomfortable, gnawing at her lower lip. “Starlight,” she said slowly. “There’s one other thing.”

“...Yes?”

“I need you to inflate Spike’s ego.”

Whatever the pink unicorn had been expecting, it wasn’t that. “Sorry, what?”

Twilight winced. “It’s kind of a long story, but I’m really getting worried about him. I feel that I’ve been treating him like a baby for too long, and that needs to change. If you could help…”

Starlight grinned. “I’m on it. One self-confident dragon, coming right up.”

“Thanks,” Twilight said, smiling in relief. “You’re doing both of us a huge favor.”

As Starlight trotted off to find Spike, her mind positively hummed with ideas. Ways to make a dragon feel more confident… general proficiency in burning things, being strong, kidnapping damsels. Well, perhaps not that last one. Then again...

***

Spike walked beside Starlight, occasionally glancing with a frown at the mare’s back. Usually, he would ride her (or Twilight) into town when they were going on errands, but today Starlight simply hadn’t picked him up. It didn’t much matter to Spike, of course. He could keep up on foot. Still, it was kind of strange. Maybe she was just thinking about something else, like one of Sunburst’s spells. “So,” he said, “uh, where to first?”

“The flower shop,” Starlight said, levitating over Twilight’s list. “What do we need to pick up?”

Spike fumbled with the paper for a moment, once more surprised by Starlight’s brusque and unusual actions. “Uh, we need a dozen daisies, ten violets, and fifteen dahlias.” He squinted at the paper. “For a new salad, apparently.”

“Great. You want to keep ahold of that for awhile?” Starlight nodded at the list.

“Uh… okay, I guess.” Spike scratched awkwardly at the base of his neck. What was up with Starlight today?

The bell above the shop door chimed merrily as the duo walked in. The mare behind the counter jumped, nearly dropping her flower pot. “O-oh. Hello, Starlight, Spike.” She paused and continued, “You scared me.”

Starlight’s smile was a little bit tighter than she would have liked to think. “Lily.” Of thee Bouquet sisters, Lily was easily the most delicate. Rose was more than a bit of a flirt, but reasonably hardy, flourishing even under adversity. At least, so long as that adversity didn’t affect her flowers. Daisy was rather more sensitive, and tended to be something of a shrinking violet. Her wife, Carrot Top, however, was excellent at acclimatizing her to new situations. But then there was Lily. Oh, Lily. Delicate, ‘excitable’ Lily. She jumped at any noise. She was frightened of her own shadow. It had taken her five years to get used to the idea of sharing a town with a dragon, even a baby dragon. On top of that, she was a dreadful gossipmonger. She set Starlight’s teeth on edge. Well, none of that was going to stop her from putting her plan into action.

“Spike, would you read off the flowers again?”

“Okay. Ahem. One dozen daisies.”

“One dozen daisies,” Starlight repeated, levitating twelve white flowers off of a shelf.

“Oh!” Lily gasped. “Be careful, Starlight.”

The pink unicorn smiled at the other mare. “I’m always careful,” she assured her. She turned away once more and her smile grew larger. “Next, Spike?”

“Ten violets.”

A few pots of purple flowers soared through the air to land sharply on the counter. Lily flinched. “And to finish off?”

“Fifteen dahlias!”

“Fifteen dahlias!” Starlight repeated as she lifted off another set of pots. This time, however, she made sure to be a little bit less careful. One of the floating pots jostled sharply against the shelf, making it sway dangerously, falling forwards. “Whoa!” she gasped, frantically attempting to juggle both plants and shelf.

“I got it!” Spike shouted, leaping forward to steady the shelf, narrowly dodging a falling bouquet of day lilies. He grabbed a support and gently pushed the falling unit back into place as Starlight set the potted plants on the counter.

Spike leaned back and wiped his brow. “Sheesh, that was a close one.” So focused was he on the shelf that he didn’t even notice Starlight trotting up behind him.

“My hero,” she whispered, and gently kissed him on the cheek. Then she turned to Lily. whose ears twitched in shock as she nervously cantered back. “So, um, what do we owe you?”

The mare’s face was a picture. Her very emotions were at war with one another. At length, none of them won. “Twelve bits,” she said shortly, smacking the cash register sharply.

With a slightly (but only slightly, Starlight assured herself) malevolent grin, the unicorn hoofed over the cash and started to levitate the potted plants away.

Lily watched the two leave, her face impassive. “He saved her… and she, she kissed him, and he blushed…” She gasped. “Oh, I’ve got to tell Rose and Daisy!”

The mare galloped out from behind the counter, racing out the door. “Cover for me!” she shouted at a perplexed passerby as she ran back toward her home.

Thunderlane looked at Rumble. Rumble looked at Thunderlane. “I’ve already got a thing with the Crusaders,” the younger pegasus said, shaking his head.

“I’ve got a date with Flitter,” Thunderlane countered.

“Yeah, in five hours. Anyway, you were planning on getting her flowers anyway, weren’t you?”

The charcoal stallion opened his mouth, but then deflated. “True,” he admitted. “Alright, bro. You go on to Sweet Apple Acres, while I learn to run a flower shop. Just try to stay out of trouble.”

“I repeat. I’ve got a thing with the Crusaders,” Rumble replied flatly.

Thunderlane snorted. “Okay, try not to burn down any buildings, then.”

“No promises…” Rumble galloped off. His elder brother chuckled good-naturedly. Property damage to Ponyville’s infrastructure? Pretty bucking expensive. Seeing his little brother smile and hang out with friends? Priceless.

The pegasus trotted into the flower shop, settling himself behind the counter. With luck, One of the sisters would be back before another customer came— ding-a-ling!

Horseapples.

“Hello, Miz—” Aloe caught herself, registering who was actually at the register. “—ter Thunderlane. Ah, what are you doing here?”

The dark horse shrugged. “Dunno. Lily ran off somewhere and left me in charge. I can probably run the register until she gets back, though, so what do you need?”

The pink mare grinned. “One dozen violets. Ze symbol of, ah, Sapphic love…”

Thunderlane reached for the flowerpots, then paused. “Symbol of what?”

“Sapphic love. You know, ah, what is ze word...” she waved a hoof vaguely. “Lesbian.”

“Oh, right,” Thunderlane nodded, grabbing the flowers. “Didn’t know you swung that way. Who’s the lucky mare?”

Aloe giggled. “Oh, zey are not for my affairs. Lotus and I are just haffing a bit of practice… shipping.”

Thunderlane paused. “Um. You sure that’s a good idea? Remember that love poison incident…”

“Nonsense. We will not be usink magic. Anyvay, if we don’t do somethink, they will neither of them be able to make ze first move.”

Thunderlane still looked dubious, but he just shrugged and pushed the violets across the counter. “Well, you’re a grown mare. You can make your own choices.”

Aloe grinned. “Glad you agree. How much for ze flowers?”

“Uh,” said Thunderlane.

***

Some twenty minutes later, Spike and Starlight arrived at Sweet Apple Acres, one confused and the other victorious. Everywhere they had gone, something had happened. A pot of quills had upset on a sofa for Spike to gather up. At Sugarcube Corner, Mr. Cake had nearly dropped a platter of cupcakes, only for Spike to manage to catch them. On the way here, a branch had fallen into their path, and Spike had carried it over to the side of the road. All of that wasn’t so unusual, taken alone; Ponyville was a pretty accident-prone town. But Starlight’s reactions had been… weird. Every time he did anything, she was positively showering him with praise. It was a little disconcerting, and Spike was glad that she’d left the kisses to a tally of one. That had been really, really weird. At least they were nearly done.

“So, what do we need?” Starlight asked cheerfully. Her plans had been going swimmingly. Arrange accidents, let Spike play hero cleaning them up, inflate ego, repeat. Foolproof! Not to mention, she could practice the Invisible Aura spell that Sunburst had sent in his letter. It was the perfect plan if she did say so herself. Now, she just had to find something to do here…

“Howdy.”

Starlight nearly jumped out of her skin. “Ah! Big Macintosh,” she gasped, clutching at her chest. “Please don’t do that.”

The red farmpony blinked. “Do what, miss?”

“...Never mind. We’re here for the weekly order?”

Mac nodded. “Right. Ah’ll get AJ in a few.”

Starlight frowned. “A few. A few what? Why not now?”

Mac frowned slightly. “Well’s broken. Gotta fix it.”

“I—” Starlight broke off. “Here’s an idea. What if Spike goes to help Applejack with the well? Then you can help me with my order.”

Macintosh looked at the unicorn dubiously. Ever since the time the mare had cast that babbling curse on him, he’d mistrusted her. Still, Spike would probably be able to fix things up well enough, and Applejack would be there to help. And it would get Unpredictable Pink Unicorn off of the farm much faster. “Eeyup,” he assented. He turned to Spike. “Y’all know where to go?”

“The well’s on the west side of the house?” Spike checked. “On the trail to the Crusaders’ clubhouse?”

“Eeyup.” Macintosh nodded, then turned back the way he’d come. Suddenly, he paused, and pulled a large wrench out of his saddle bags. “You’ll need this,” he said, hoofing it to Spike.

“Thanks. Hey, see you at Sugarcube Corner Saturday for O&O?”

“Eeyup,” Mac grinned. “See ya there.”

“You too, Sir MacBiggun.” On that note, Spike turned and trotted toward the house.

“Um… So! The weekly order!” Starlight said brightly. Mac sighed inwardly and led the unicorn back toward the barn.

***

“Hm,” Applejack grumbled, fiddling with the ropes around her chest. “Yep, that should do just fine.” As she released it, however, the knot fell apart. “Goldarnit!”

Suddenly, she heard hoofsteps coming up the path. “Mac! Help me with this darn knot, wontcha?” She glanced up, then frowned. “Hey. You ain’t Mac.”

“Heh, ‘ee-nope,’” Spike replied, grinning. “Starlight needed to pick up the order, so he went with her and sent me to help you.”

“Huh.” Applejack gave him a quick once-over. “Well, alright. Ah reckon you oughta be able ta do this. First, help tie me up.”

“Uh… kay. Any special way, or…”

“Something that’ll hold mah weight. Round th’ barrel, like. Do it m’self, but it’s a bit tricky ta tie there.” Applejack gestured vaguely at her chest.

“Why not just tie a lasso? Then I can just slip it over you.”

“Huh. Good idea.” Applejack grinned. “Glad you came along, sugarcube,” she said, taking up the rope once more.

“So, uh, what do I need to do?”

“Well, see, used to be we had to drag up buckets fulla water whenever we needed t’ take a bath or wash dishes or whatever. That was back in Grandpappy Jonathan's day. Now, though, we got us a pipe system down there, leads into an aquifer under th’ house, an’ that takes care of most all th’ water we need.

“‘Course, it ain’t a perfect system. Sometimes th’ pump breaks, sometimes a pipe breaks. Those are the big fixes. Might need t’ call a real plumber in then.”

“So, what’s wrong with it now?”

“Well, see, the water ain’t always th’ cleanest. Comes out from the ground, sometimes stuff falls in. So, we gotta put on a li’l strainer, keep out the pebbles and dirt. That’s fallen off, so Ah gotta go down and put on a new one.” She waved a piece of mesh in the air.

“So— wait. Questions,” Spike said, holding up a claw. “Number one, what about bacteria? That’s a fine strainer, but…”

“We have a purifier hooked up in the aquifer,” Applejack replied. “Fine fer handlin' th' small stuff, but we can't let it get clogged. Next?”

“Why do we need this?” Spike gestured vaguely at the wrench.

“Th’ strainer goes in between two pieces o’ pipe, an’ Ah gotta unhook ‘em afore Ah put it in.”

“Final question, why don’t I go down? I’m, like… way smaller than you.”

“Well, for th’ same reason Ah don’t send down Apple Bloom. Ya don’t know what y’all are lookin’ for, an’ Ah do. Now, if that’s all, Ah’d be mighty obliged if ya grabbed that-there rope.”

“Right.”

Spike grabbed the loose end of the rope. Then he glanced at Applejack. Applejack, who was much bigger and heavier than he was. The orange mare grinned. “Ready?”

The little dragon swallowed, then grinned nervously. Slowly, Applejack lowered her hind hooves over the edge of the well. Then, she stopped. “Hold on.”

Spike breathed out. She’d thought better of it after all. “Uh, yeah?”

“Don’t let’s drop that wrench on mah head. Here.” She pulled a red toolbox out from the other side of the well. “Stick it in.”

Shoot. “Uh, Applejack, I don’t know about this…”

“What’s not to get? In and out, simple as that. Now, stick that tool in mah box an’ lets git goin’!”

“Applejack, I don’t think I’m big enough!” Spike exclaimed, throwing down the rope. “We shouldn’t be doing this.”

“Spike.” Applejack’s green eyes were soft and warm. “Sugarcube. You can do this. Ah reckon you’re strong enough ta hold me. An’ yer smart enough ta get me out again. Heck, ya jes’ figgered out a whole new way to tie me up! So, come on, sugar. Gimme that there tool, and let’s get to work.”

“You… really think that about me?”

“Sure thing.”

Spike grinned, the butterflies in his stomach dispersing slightly. “Well, okay. Here you go.” He placed the wrench into the toolbox. “Ready?”

Applejack rolled her eyes. “Ain’t nice ta leave a mare waitin’ like that,” she teased. “Ready.”

Spike grabbed the rope and Applejack rappelled down the well. “Alright, sugarcube. Nice an’ slow, almost— EEYOW!”

“Applejack?” Spike asked, the panic returning in an instant. “Are you okay?”

“Ah’m soakin’ in this dirty stuff!” the farm mare exploded. Then she sighed. “Feels awful good, though.”

“You said it,” Spike agreed. The summer sun was merciless. Then, suddenly, he noticed something moving in the bushes. “Hey! Who’s there?” The bushes let out a startled squeak, and a brown blur shot off.”

“What’s that?”

Spike frowned. “Button Mash. Wonder what’s up with him…”

“Long as it ain’t knockin’ down mah barn, Ah don’t much care. Now, let’s see ‘bout gettin’ this pipe off…”

There was a sudden watery clunk, and a loud expletive from the farmer. “AGH! Splashed me right in the face!”

***

“AGH! Splashed me right in the face!” Button winced as those carrying final words found his ears. He repressed a shudder. The last time he had heard those sorts of words, he’d been seven. They had been coming from his mother’s bedroom. The young colt had gone in to see that his mama and her new coltfriend were okay. As a reward, he’d gotten a large bowl of ice cream to cry into and a variation of ‘the talk’ that was even earlier and more uncomfortable than usual. He didn’t want to go through that again, not for all the HP in the world. So, he’d covered his eyes and hidden in the underbrush and tried to wait it out. He would’ve gotten away with it, too, if he hadn’t been shuddering and trying to repress all of his memories. He had gotten as far as last week’s health class when Spike had spotted him. Now… he didn’t know what would happen now. All he knew was that he had to get to the clubhouse. To sanctuary.

He galloped up the stairs, smashed through the trapdoor headfirst, and fell to the floor, breathing heavily and erratically, half-crying. “Waaahhh… Heeeehhuuh… Hhuuaaahhh… Wuuaahh….”

“Hi, Button,”Sweetie said, glancing up from the pile of paper before her. “Uh. Do you need a hug, or…”

“Apple Bloom,” Button gasped. “Your sister and Spike are doing… adult things.”

The yellow mare looked up from her own work, frowning. “Adult thangs?”

“Yeah!”

Bloom blinked blankly. “Ya mean like… taxes?”

“I— no, they— um, I mean—” Button sputtered. He tried to remember what his mother had said to him without fully un-repressing those memories. “Uh, when a mayor and a stale onion love each other…. No, that’s not right…”

“You mean they were engaging in carnal relations,” Dinky said flatly.

Button stared. “Maybe? I don’t know what that means.”

“Trying to have a baby?”

“Yes,” Button said, relieved.

“Oh, havin’ sex. Well, why didn’tcha say so?” Bloom asked, shaking her head. Then she paused. “Wait. Mah sister an’ Spike?”

Sweetie gasped. “Ooh! Do you think they’re in love?”

Scootaloo groaned. “No. Not doing this. Remember the Love Poison incident?”

Everypony winced. Really, they had just been trying to get Miss Cheerilee a special somepony. It wasn’t their fault that Thunderlane and Rarity had stopped by the clubhouse and tasted some of the potion. Nor was it quite their fault when Winona got into it, and the rest spilled onto the floor. That had been a very... interesting day. Fortunately, everything had been sorted out in the end, and Sweetie Belle hadn’t ended up getting Rumble as a brother-in-law after all. Even more fortunately, Winona wasn’t going to have baby dogwoods.

“Well, that was different,” Sweetie said. “I mean, we didn’t know what we were doing. Plus, it sounds to me like they’re already in love, right?”

“Point,” Rumble agreed after a moment’s hesitation. “But what are you suggesting, then?”

“Isn’t it obvious?” Sweetie asked, glancing around the room. The other Crusaders stared back. Evidently it wasn’t as obvious as all that. “They can’t just hide their love all the time. We have to show everypony how much they love each other!”

“Without Love Poison,” Dinky said.

“Without, as you say, Love Poison. Or even potion.”

There was a long moment of consideration. “So how do we do it, then?” Rumble asked. “We can’t just tell everypony, that’d be rude.”

“Mmm,” Sweetie hummed, furrowing her brow. “Ooh!! We can make it look like Applejack is in danger, and then Spike can swoop in and save her, and then they’ll be all kissy-kissy and everything!” She looked around. “Well, that’s how it works in movies!” she insisted.

“Jumping over a gorge with a wagon happens in movies, but I think we definitely found out that doesn’t actually work,” Dinky deadpanned.

“Hey! The theory was solid,” Scootaloo protested. “We just need a steeper hill. Or maybe a smaller gorge.”

“We’re not trying that again,” Dinky said.

“Anyhow, Ah don’ like th’ idea of puttin’ Applejack in danger, an’ dependin’ on Spike ta save her.” Apple Bloom said.

“What about the other way around?” Scootaloo asked, rolling over onto her back. “Get Applejack to save Spike.”

“Hmm…” Sweetie said, pursing her lips. “Well, I guess it could work…”

“I don’t know,” Button said. “Isn’t there a lot that could go wrong with that? What if Applejack can’t save Spike?”

Apple Bloom glowered. “You better take that back, toot sweet!” she said, tone menacing.

“I just mean, what if she isn’t where we need her to be? Or somepony else saves Spike first?” Button said. “And I dunno if saving somepony’s life is a solid basis for love. I mean, Thunderlane saved Rarity’s life once, right Rumble? And they aren’t in love.”

Sweetie frowned. “But think of all the times when it has worked out,” she whined.

There was silence. “I got nothing,” Scootaloo said.

“Me neither,” Dinky agreed.

“Ugh,” Sweetie grumbled. “I like movie romance better.”

“Maybe we can ask other ponies how they fell in love?” Button said. “Like, I can ask my mom, and Rumble, you could ask Thunderlane, and stuff like that?”

“Well, what about me?” Apple Bloom said. “Ah can’t go tellin’ Applejack Ah know she’s in love with Spike, how’d y’all git together an’ all that. Mac still don’t like tellin’ me about his love life, and… well, let’s not talk ‘bout Granny.” She shuddered. “Too much information.”

“So ask Applejack what to do when you’ve fallen in love,” Dinky said. “Maybe she’ll let something slip about Spike after all.”

Bloom frowned. “Well, alright. We all in agreement, then?”

Nods all around.

“CUTIE MARK CRUSADER SHIPPERS, YAY!”

***

Starlight, dragging the cart of apples behind her, rounded the corner of the house and smiled. Spike was resting his head against Applejack’s barrel. Both were soaking wet, and both were smiling contently. “All done?” the unicorn asked.

“Yep,” Applejack nodded, blinking her eyes open. “Spike? Sugarcube?” She nudged the dragon, and he let out a little snore.

Starlight sighed. “I told him he should’ve taken a nap. But did he listen?”

The farm mare chuckled. “Well, Ah can’t hardly blame him fer bein’ tired now. He was a big help, an’ did a heckuva lotta work.”

The unicorn smiled. “Glad to hear. Help me get him onto the cart?”

Gently, Applejack rose, shifting slowly so as not to rouse the sleeping dragon. Starlight lit her horn, lifting him off the ground. Gently, his sleeping form settled in among the apples. “See you, Applejack,” she said, trotting away.

“Yeah. See y’all around.” Applejack watched them go, a faint smile on her face. The two of them were just too darn cute. She wondered when one of them would finally admit their little crush...

***

Later that evening, Fluttershy hummed quietly to herself as she waited for dinner to be served. Normally, she would be busy in the kitchen herself, but tonight, somepony else had offered. Well. Not some pony, exactly. “Flutterbutter, where do you keep your dehydrated water?” Discord called from the other room.

“I, um, think I’m out,” Fluttershy replied. “Is regular hydrated water okay?”

“Hmm… let’s find out!” the draconequus called back gleefully.

The pegasus smiled slightly. Her friend was an unconventional one, but she enjoyed their company regardless. They had enough courage and self-confidence for the two of them at least, and when they were around, it felt like she was queen of the world. Except only in an administrative capacity, not in a position where you had to stand up and give a lot of speeches. Um. Perhaps that simile had gotten a little bit away from her…

There was a quick knock at the door, and Fluttershy blinked back to reality. Who could that be? She pushed out of her chair and trotted over to open the door. “Hello?” she asked.

A cheerful grey face smiled back at her. “Hi, Fluttershy. How are you?”

“Oh, um, hello Ditzy. I can’t complain, I suppose. How are you?”

“I’m doing well, thanks for asking!”

The two pegasi stood there for a moment, one beaming, the other, nervously shuffling her hooves. “Ditzy.”

“Yes?”

“Is there, um, a reason you came to see me? Not that I don’t appreciate the company,” she added hastily.

“Oh!” Ditzy slapped her forehead. “Sorry. Lost in thought. Here you go. Special delivery.” She held out a large cardboard box marked “HANDLE WITH CARE”. There were air holes punched in it. The mailmare smiled. “Importing your little animal friends these days?”

“Me? Oh, no,” Fluttershy shook her head vigorously. “Well. Not in the mail, anyway. I wonder what it could be…”

“Well, good luck finding out,” Ditzy said merrily. “I gotta get home and make dinner. See you later!”

She leapt up, flapping, and soared off into the night. Fluttershy watched her go for a long moment, before turning back to the box. “Fluttershy?” Discord asked. “Did you hear me? I can’t find your radish rose cutter. What’s with the box?”

“I don’t know. It only just arrived. Also, I don’t think I have a radish rose cutter… whatever that is.”

“Don’t you? It’s a lovely little device, cuts roses into the shape of radishes. Or was it the other way ‘round? Doesn’t matter, open the box, I’m dreadfully curious… Do you suppose it might be a cat? Or perhaps a doctor? I’m told they travel in boxes. Although it isn’t blue…”

Fluttershy sighed slightly. Discord was her friend, and she really did like them, but sometimes they didn’t make any sense at all. “You’ve got claws, you can cut open the tape.”

“Oh, can I?” Discord gasped, clasping their talon to their chest. “Well. I’d be honored. Oh, I do hope there’s bubble wrap…”

They examined their paw. “Now, let me see… it’s been awhile since I actually used these…” They squinted, then flipped up a corkscrew. “No…”

Then came a pair of nail clippers, a file, seven screwdrivers of various shapes and sizes, a pair of scissors, a flashlight, and… “A knife!” Discord cried jubilantly.

Fluttershy glanced up at them, a letter opener gripped in her mouth. She dropped it into her hoof. “I got it.”

The draconequus blinked. Then their face crinkled into a grin. “So you did! Any bubble wrap?”

“No… oh, it’s flowers!”

Discord stilled. “Flowers," they said, voice oddly flat. "How interesting. What sort of… flowers?”

“Violets,” Fluttershy said as she pulled them out of the box. “Oh, and there’s a little note. For your kindness. -R.”

Discord’s brow had darkened. “And, ah, who is this… ‘R’?”

“Rarity, I suppose. This must be a little thank-you gift for helping with her project…”

Thick white eyebrows cinched together over yellow eyes. “My dear, dear Flutterby, you know I hate to pry…”

Fluttershy raised an eyebrow. “Okay, so that was a lie,” Discord admitted. “So, what’s this little project, hm?”

“We’re trying to increase Spike’s self-confidence,” Fluttershy replied, drawing herself up a bit with pride.

Discord waited. “...And?” they prompted.

“And… trying to make him grow up?”

The draconequus stared. “Okay, let’s put this another way. Why are you doing this?”

“To help… my friends?” Fluttershy tried.

“Hrm.” Discord looked skeptical. “With you, I can believe that. Rarity on the other hand, well. She tends to be a little more… how can I put this… self-centered.”

“No she isn’t, she’s very generous!”

Discord waved a claw. “Yes, yes, because magical jewelry has such a good track record for character judgement. She is generous, I don’t deny that. But you must agree, that her generosity usually has some deeper motivation behind it, such as her little social climbing hobby.” They clicked their fingers and suddenly the two of them were kitted out in full rock-climbing gear, halfway up a mountain. Fluttershy squeaked and clung tightly to the rocky face as the wind howled around them.

“Now, I don’t say it’s her primary motivation,” Discord continued in a louder voice so as to be heard over the wind. “But nevertheless, she does tend to have some sort of ulterior motive for her actions, you see?”

Fluttershy pursed her lips. “I wish you wouldn’t criticize my friends like this…” she shouted as best she could.

“Criticize? Who’s criticizing? I approve of ulterior motives. I have them all the time,” Discord said, waving a paw and teleporting them back to Fluttershy’s cottage. “All I’m saying is, it might be best to have a better idea of what little Miss Generosity wants out of this situation. After all, it is rather unusual to come up with the idea so suddenly, is it not?”

Fluttershy hesitated. “You do have a point,” she conceded. “But I still think she just wants to help Spike reach his full potential.”

Or spend more time with you, Discord thought, grinding their teeth internally. Sending flowers, particularly those flowers, was far more than a ‘thank-you’ gift. They knew exactly what violets symbolized, and he had no doubt that that prissy little unicorn did, too. “Perhaps I shall offer my own help in your little endeavor,” they mused.

Fluttershy looked at him sideways. “And just what ulterior motives might you have?”

Their grin was massive and very toothy. “Why, my dear Flutterbutter, I thought you knew me better. My only motivation these days is finding opportunities to have a little… fun.”

Author's Note

Honestly, I'm not sure how this one got so long. I thought about splitting it into two chapters, but I couldn't find a good place. Oh, well.

Also, if you're curious to know why the Crusaders seem to have doubled in number, I refer you to my other story, 'The Lost Crusades'. It isn't quite done yet, but I'm working on it.