The gentle chime of Carousel Boutique’s door echoed across the showroom as Spike stepped inside. How long had it been since he’d seen Rarity’s shop? Too long, certainly. On his few visits to Ponyville in recent years, he’d spent fleeting moments with the fashionista, but hadn’t taken -- or in most cases, been given -- ample time to spend with her. The rows upon rows of dresses in their shimmering splendor seemed foreign, as though he saw them for the first time, but the subtle aroma of the gems used in their creation summoned tell-tale pangs of nostalgia.
Today was different. Today carried a note of personal business; the elegant request for his presence fell into his lap the day before, and the stars aligned to allow him some brief respite before other matters needed attending. He jumped at the opportunity.
Coffee and conversation, as the letter entailed. In recent years, coffee had become Spike’s beverage of choice. From assisting Twilight in corresponding with countless foreign powers and traveling hither and yon to assist in all manner of friendship problems, energy proved to be in short supply. A little something extra never hurt anypony.
“Ah Spike, there you are.” The voice of Rarity broke the silence left by the bell as she emerged from the door to the kitchen. Her trot still carried her trademark elegance and poise, if not more so than Spike remembered. A few grey strands dotted her styled mane and tail with no evident signs of dye to mask them. It hadn’t occurred to him how much time had passed until then.
“It’s so good to see you, darling.” Rarity came up and hugged the dragon’s midsection. He’d grown some since they last shared an embrace, standing a head above her all-four pose.
“You, too, Rarity. Sorry I’m a little late. The Diamond Dog ambassador really doesn’t know when to stop talking.” He returned the gesture in kind, making sure not to lay a careless claw on Rarity’s mane.
He wasn’t sure how long the hug lasted, but by the time it ended, the faint scent of coffee wafted to his nostrils. A dark roast, though one he couldn’t say he’d ever sampled before. The richness and warmth already made his mouth water.
Rarity cleared her throat. “Well do come in. I’m sure your foreign dealings have tuckered you out considerably.”
Spike followed Rarity into the kitchen, an adjacent table already set with a plate of homemade scones. Cherry, blueberry and emerald -- his favorites. On either side of the small table sat an empty mug and a plate holding a diamond-shaped doily paired with a tri folded napkin.
“You went all out for this, huh?” Spike looked over at the full pot of coffee and a pitcher of cream on the stovetop. Anticipation rose within him like the visible wisps of steam from the coffee.
With a nod, Rarity levitated both the pot and the pitcher to the table. “Absolutely, Spike. It’s not like either of us have much time to rest, these days. For those special times with special individuals, only the best will do.” She gestured to one of the empty chairs. “Go on, have a seat. I’m sure you have lots to talk about.”
Spike sat at the table and helped himself to an emerald scone. The sweetness of the gemstone blended with the solid flavor foundation of the pastry, creating a taste the likes of which only dragons could savor. Amidst his sample of the fruits of Rarity’s baking, he paused; he did have plenty of stories. The ramblings of Yakyakistan’s treasurer after he failed to perform a traditional greeting, breaking up a petty squabble between two prominent Canterlot bankers and learning the Abyssian word for “sofa” all came to mind as potential topics. But Rarity’s words stirred questions he wasn’t aware he had.
“I hope you like this blend. The stallion I bought it from in Saddle Arabia referred to it as -- what was it again? -- Alikul Alisan. Kicking Horse. It makes one of the smoothest brews I’ve ever tasted.”
“I didn’t know you liked coffee, too. I mean, I thought you were more on board with tea.” Where Spike got the idea Rarity served coffee just to humor him, he couldn’t discern. The thought of her enjoying it as much as he would snuffed out the discomfort from his previous assumption.
Rarity nodded. “That I do, dear. Running between the boutiques across Equestria, staying up to date on fashion trends and keeping things in running order requires a little something extra sometimes. Never hurt anypony, right?” She took her own seat at the table, letting out a sigh of content before levitating the pot over to fill Spike’s mug. “Do let me know what you think. There’s cream here, but I also have sugar if you’d like.”
Bringing the coffee to his mouth, Spike paid no mind to the steam billowing from the mug or from the heated ceramic in his hands. If he could withstand lava, coffee was child's play. His first sip introduced him to the bitter overtones of the dark roast. It didn’t floor him by any means, but the strength caught him off guard. Still, the aftertaste reminiscent of caramel and roasted nuts reigned in the bitter bite. His audible satisfaction did not go unnoticed.
“The brew is to your liking?”
Taste buds delighted and a welcome warmth in his belly, Spike nodded. “You weren’t kidding. This is good.” He reached for the pitcher of cream and poured in a decent amount, bringing the level of liquid near the mug’s brim. A far more careful sip later, he set the mug down and sighed, himself. “Ah, perfect. Thanks, Rarity.”
“Anytime, darling.” Rarity filled her own cup and blew on the surface before taking a tentative sip. “Simply divine.” She shifted her attention to Spike, who by now had finished half of his drink. “So Spike, how have you been faring as of late? It’s been far too long since we’ve talked about anything at length. Why, it feels like just yesterday you would follow me around and help me with this and that and everything in between.”
All manner of topics swam through Spike’s mind, from challenges in his position as Friendship Ambassador to the many colorful characters he’d met, but after Rarity’s observation, he couldn’t shake one question: “Do you think back to then a lot, when I was always around?”
Rarity paused, looking up from her drink and meeting Spike’s gaze. “I do, yes. Many fond memories involve you, Spike.”
“Do you know why I did?”
“Of course. You had quite the crush on me.”
If Spike had any coffee in his mouth after hearing Rarity’s response, he would have promptly spat it out. He thanked his lucky stars no such fate came. “You… You knew?”
A soft smile crossed Rarity’s lips. She stifled a giggle at the reaction she received by taking another sip of her drink. “Among the many gifts you have, subtlety was not your strong suit at the time.”
He could not retort. She was right, in retrospect. Spike finished off the scone on his plate and reached for another. “Yeah, I guess I probably came off too strong when I was smaller. Sorry if it annoyed you at all.”
“No no no, it never annoyed me,” Rarity said assuredly, “it was actually rather cute.” She took a bite from her own scone, followed in quick succession with a short drag from her mug. “I suppose I knew it would pass in the beginning and grew used to it over time.”
Spike remained silent.
“B-but that in no way makes what you felt any less real. It evidently was!”
Several long moments passed before Spike could gather a response. “It passed, yeah.” A partial truth. “But how did you know it would pass?”
“Do you see me on Trenderhoof’s arm? Or Hoity Toity’s? Or Fancy Pants’? I know crushes well, darling. I’ve had many, myself. They all pass.” Her smile took a forlorn downturn, as did her eyes back to her cup.
Spike looked across the table at Rarity, dumbfounded. His younger self never would have seen past the veil that lifted before his eyes. She was no apple of his eye, not his muse nor his obsession; she was a mare like any other. A gorgeous one and his friend, but still quite mortal.
“Tell me something, Spike,” Rarity began, “let’s say, for example’s sake, that I returned the feelings you had towards me. Let’s say I was head-over-hooves with you and I agreed to be your special somepony. What would you have done then?”
“Does dancing with joy count? I would’ve done that for sure.”
Rarity stifled a laugh. “Well I suppose it does. But after the dancing and jubilation. What did you plan then?”
Blank. Spike drew an absolute blank. Over his numerous fantasies of rescuing the fair Rarity from any sort of danger or hearing the honeyed words of mutual love, he realized nothing lay beyond. No plans, no thoughts of a future together. He opened his mouth to reply, but could find no answer.
“Anything?”
Musings and memories of times past played back in Spike’s mind. All the letters left unsent and the professions left unspoken -- grounded on nothing. Did his feelings mean anything? He slumped back in his chair, unable to meet the expectant eyes upon him. “No. Nothing.”
Rarity lifted another scone onto Spike’s plate. “The chase is far better than the catch, as they say.” She tried to look at Spike again but faltered, refocusing on the floor in an absent stare. “It’s far more fun. I’ve chased many stallions just as you chased me. Never caught. It was fun while it lasted, but” -- she straightened her posture and let out a long sigh before continuing -- “I have no desire to chase anymore.”
Confusion and concern weighing his mind, Spike finished his current cup of coffee. “Are you saying you don’t want a special somepony at all?”
“Precisely.”
A barb pierced Spike’s heart. Not for him, but for his friend. What would make her think such a thing? Spike slid out of his chair and moved to the other side of the table. He crouched until he was eye level with the mare, trying to gauge if anything was the matter. A tightened jaw, a quivering lip, something to indicate she held back some kind of turmoil? He found none. “Why?”
Turning her attention to Spike, Rarity’s expression softened, as though she could both see and understand the dragon’s confliction. “I don’t need one, dear. It was something I decided some time ago when business began to pick up between the Ponyville and Manehattan boutiques with the Baltimare shop nearing completion.” She stood from her chair and motioned for Spike to follow. He obliged without question.
Back on the boutique showroom, Rarity approached one of the mannequins adorned in a blazing orange dress. Rubies lined the hem of the gown, each finely cut into the shape of a roaring fire while the largest hung around the model’s neck on a maroon choker. “This is what I want. My dream. Every part of the process goes into that dream, both the exciting and mundane. I wouldn't trade it for anything in the world.”
She continued, turning back to Spike. “Between running my boutiques and spending what time I can with my friends, a special somepony just doesn’t fit anymore.” She sighed. “A special somepony requires time, energy and care that I don’t think I can provide, let alone expect them to provide the same for me. That wouldn’t be fair to them.” Hesitantly, her hoof found purchase on Spike’s chest. “Wouldn’t have been fair to you.”
Before Spike could respond, Rarity began trotting back towards the kitchen. He followed not far behind, but the unicron’s gait made clear she moved of her own accord, whether he followed or not. Once both friends returned to the table, he refilled his coffee and drank the raw bitterness once again.
“Do you understand now, Spike?” Rarity’s tone was flat and even, almost unnervingly so.
Her dream, Spike thought. He bit his tongue, keeping him from saying anything hasty while he charted a course through his sea of thoughts. She had been his dream before. Was she still? He couldn’t tell. An ordinary mare as she was, she held no less importance to him than any previous day he’d known her. His eyes focused on his coffee to keep away from her prying eyes. Looking between the still-simmering brew and the pitcher of cream on the table, something clicked in his mind. A switch, a flame, a curtain his younger self couldn’t see behind.
“I think… I think I do understand.” Spike cracked a smile and added enough cream to his coffee to take off the sharp edge. “It’s like, uh, like coffee.”
“Oh?” Rarity’s head cocked to one side, a confused brow raised.
Spike refilled Rarity’s empty mug before elaborating. “This roast you have is pretty dark, so for me it needs some cream to mellow things out.” His claw pointed at the liquid in the opposite cup, just above the surface. “And you like it it without, right? That gives you the full flavor, bitter and all. While I may not like it as much, you must like it enough to drink it, right?”
A grin slowly pulled up the corners of Rarity’s lips. “I… Yes. That does make sense, now that I think about it.”
“Oh, I’m not done.” Spike pointed to the near-empty pot and the hearty brew contained within. “Just because I like mine a certain way, doesn’t mean I’m stuck drinking only that. You can add whatever you want to it. As long as you like it, that’s what matters. And if you don’t, then change the flavor until you do or just buy different coffee.” He looked over the edge of the cup on his lips at the stunned unicorn across from him. She looked between him and her own cup with a knitted brow.
Rarity said nothing for a time. When she did finally act, she levitated the pitcher of cream closer and studied it. “I can’t say I’ve tried this particular brew with cream. I suppose I was worried I’d mask the purity of such a refined taste.” She paused, tipping the container and letting a splash of white fill the dark liquid before her. “But I won’t know if I don’t try, right?” Upon taking her tentative sip, her eyes fluttered open, ears perking up.
“My word, Spike…”
“Not bad, huh?” Spike set his cup down and crossed his arms nonchalantly. A fiery heat rose in his chest to his throat, though not from the beverage or the scones. He turned his head away before an involuntary exhale of green fire burst from his mouth and materialized a scroll in his hand. He broke the royal seal on the scroll and skimmed over the message. A groan escaped him.
“Urgent business with Twilight?”
Spike dawned a pained smirk. “How’d you guess?”
The unicorn’s giggle was muffled by the long drink she took from her coffee. “That’s how it goes for busy folk like us. Never a spare moment unless we prepare far ahead of time.” She got up from her seat and cantered to Spike’s side. “Run along, dear. I’m delighted we had a chance to share a few cups while it lasted.”
“Me, too. I’ll see you around, Rarity.” Spike got up and moved towards the door without a second thought. He made it nearly to the front door before Rarity piped up.
“Oh Spike!”
He turned, seeing the mare by the kitchen door with her mug held in a magical grip. “Do… Em, do feel free to write. I know we both have rather sparse free time, but please don’t be a stranger. Maybe we could set up another day to get together in the near future? More coffee, perhaps?”
Spike did not bother trying to hide his smile. “Yeah. I’ll see what I can do.”
“Wonderful, darling.” As Spike turned to leave again, Rarity hesitated before calling out once more. “Spike! One last thing I have to tell you.”
“Yeah? What is it?”
Rarity approached him with a graceful step, gliding across the floor until she stood by his side. She cast a glance around, as if somepony silently watched them. “Come closer.” Spike leaned in, but still not close enough for her liking. “Closer still.”
“Rarity, what’s --” His words cut off when the mare’s lips pressed against his cheek. He froze, the dragonfire within him boiling under his scales.
“Thank you, Spike,” she whispered.
He provided a similar spontaneity by pulling Rarity into a tight embrace, one she returned wholeheartedly. By the time Spike pulled away, he noticed he’d neglected protecting that pristine mane during the hug. Her smile and lack of concern for it said everything he needed to know.
The bell chimed once again as Spike opened the door. Before taking to the sky, he gave one final wave and closed the door behind him.
