The Life and Times of the Equestrian Dragon

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New Canterlot City was sick... maybe dying. The shadows of chaos were spreading, sinking their talons into whatever bit of flesh they could find. Demons, cultists, sorcerers, the enemies of the light were multiplying, waiting to strike...

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The Equestrian Dragon landed and uncloaked at the same time, conjuring his clothes to cover his naked human form and stomping hard with black boots on the pavement, and his wings retracting into his upper back to complete the transformation.

After his battle with Tirek, Spike ran along the dark streets of New Canterlot City. The stars were shining like diamonds high above, but he didn’t pay much attention to them or where he was going. As he ran through the empty Beaumount Park, there wasn’t a soul to be seen.

His mind was racing; Equestria needed to get back on its feet. He had watched the hatred convulse from afar, hoping humanity and his dragon brethren could settle their differences without intervention... or an excess of bloodshed. Interference created its own problems—keeping the mortal and magical worlds separate was best accomplished when the humans were blissfully unaware, or at least skeptically unbelieving. If the humans couldn’t handle knowing that a few monsters, immortals and magic users existed in their midst...

Spike paused for a moment when a sudden vapor of scent crossed his nostrils, bringing the taste of soap-scrubbed skin and floral shampoo... and the fresh cotton shirt clinging to her ample chest. His mind filled with her scents.

Spike could smell and even taste magic... and his magic tasted all of her.

His senses flared, and if he were merely human, he wouldn’t have seen the flash of cyan eyes or the swish of pale hair or the press of rose-colored lips.

Spike heard her voice—she sounded frightened—as he checked his running speed, confused. He scanned the young woman again—the smell of human was on her for certain... just the delicious human scent that was all her, the scent wrenched his heart.

It was Fluttershy and she was standing, talking with another young woman, under a street lamp in the park, which shined down on them like a spotlight.

She was little more than twenty-years-old and extremely petite. Her skin was pale, she had slim hips, tiny hands, and she had a short bob haircut that framed a face with a high forehead and enormous eyes. Her eyes were a light cyan and looked like twin pools of tragedy, and under them were a small nose and small mouth.

“I’m sorry, Coco. But my heart already belongs to someone else,” Fluttershy said.

“W... What do you mean by that?” Coco asked. “I can’t believe it! Who is it?!”

Her voice matched her physique: small and delicate.

“He’s... Well... When I was a little girl... I got hurt and started crying. This nice boy came over and asked me if I was all right. That man... I want to see him again and tell him how I really felt at that time. But I can’t remember what he looked like!!”

Coco gasped. “No! How can you find him if you don’t remember what he looks like?”

“You may be right. But if I see him again... I believe I would recognize him. I’d just be able to... sense it. Something like this only happens once in a lifetime!”

Fluttershy bit one corner of her lower lip as she glanced around the park... and there he was. She stared in awestruck rapture at the hulking figure. The morning light reflected in his green eyes accentuating the gold flecks making them shimmer.

“Spike, what are you doing out here this late at night?” she asked.

“I was just out for a walk,” he lied. “What were you doing just now?”

“Rehearsing lines from a play,” Fluttershy replied.

“Those were just lines from a play?” he asked.

Spike’s expression was serious, but it wasn’t like the almost businesslike serious he had on back at the university. For the first time in a long time, there was a distinct air of earnestness about him as he gazed at her.

“Coco and I always come here to practice,” she said. “It’s a really beautiful story I want to do if I can revive the University’s Theatre department.”

“That was beautiful,” he breathed.

“Would you like to come in for cocoa?” Coco asked. Her heart pounded as she pointed across Beaumount Park. “I’m just one block over.”

Spike smile as he replied, “Yes, please.”

.

When Coco Pommel agreed to meet Fluttershy in the park that morning, she had no idea it would end with taking a sexy stranger back to her apartment. She didn’t know what possessed her to make the offer to him. In fact, she didn’t know why she continued to talk to him or allow him to follow her.

She immediately sensed something different about this guy. She could tell there was something otherworldly and ancient about him, something that made him stand out from others. He didn’t have the same air about him that she was used to seeing in everyone else who lived in New Canterlot City. This distinct difference captured and held her attention.

He was gorgeous. When he unfolded his tall body, she swooned. His green hair was disheveled like he’d been through Tartarus. His striking emerald eyes were impossible not to notice. His clothes were dirty and stained with blood. His face was all hard lines and razor-sharp angles and all she wanted was to run her fingertips over them to see if she’d come away with cuts on her skin.

Twenty minutes later, they made it to the front steps of her building and Coco jogged up to open the door.

It was a Bronclyn-style brownstone, a nice place to live.

Coco inhaled as she unlocked the front door to the building and pushed it open.

When she turned back, she could see his concentrated effort to pull himself up the stairs, his white-knuckled hand on the steel handrail as he took one step then another until he made it to the top. His face was bathed in a fine sheen of sweat. She could hear his labored breathing and knew it was taking a lot out of him.

Spike and Fluttershy followed her inside and they slipped into the elevator.

Her apartment was on the second floor, and it was laid out the way Spike had guessed.

The den seemed to be the heart of the home. It was a pretty space, ordinary brick walls with painted cabinets and the kitchen counters were tidy but there was enough disarray to make the place feel lived in. There was no evidence of a second person living in the apartment.

“Please, have a seat,” Coco said.

Spike sat down on the sofa as Coco walked to the kitchen, and instead of rinsing and filling her kettle, she took out a small sauce pan and filled it with whole milk instead of water. As the milk heated over a low flame, she prepared a sterling silver tea service.

She opened one of the cabinets, took out two white teacups made of perfectly delicate material with lips almost as thin as paper, placed them right side up on two saucers, and spooned cocoa into the cups. After whisking the milk, she carefully poured it from the pan into the silver teapot and placed it on the silver serving tray, along with a silver cream pitcher and a matching sugar bowl filled with miniature marshmallows.

Meanwhile, Fluttershy had trotted off to the bathroom. She paused for a brief moment to check her reflection in the mirror after washing her hands. Frowning, she splashed a little cold water on her reddening face—from embarrassment—and she fluffed up her hair with her hands before joining him on the sofa in the living room area.

A minute later, Coco came back with the tea service. She carried it across the room, gently set it down on the coffee table, filled the cocoa-filled cups from the silver teapot, and immediately from the aroma Spike knew it was going to be a great one.

“Here you go,” she said.

Coco carefully placed the two teacups, both still balanced on saucers, in front of Spike and Fluttershy then backed away and sat down in the armchair across from them.

Spike raised the cup and took a sip of the cocoa—he believed that a dish ought to serve its contents—it was perfect: hot, strong, smooth, and a great cup.

He looked across the table at Coco and said, “It’s excellent. Thank you.”

Coco paused; the corners of her mouth softened like the beginning of a smile, and she said, “You’re welcome.”

She had a pretty smile but didn’t use it often. As he looked at her, Spike could see other emotions in her eyes: fear, shyness, loneliness... and horniness.

God, she was horny... and stupid.

She felt stupid for taking him back to her apartment. She knew better than to pick up a strange man in the park. She also knew better than to want to pick up a strange man in the park and want him to fuck her senseless.

Had she lost her mind? She didn’t know him. All she knew was that Fluttershy knew him and something drove her to make sure that he was okay.

“So, you’re Spike Zenith?” she asked.

“Yes,” he replied. “And unless I’m mistaken, this used to be the city’s library, wasn’t it?”

“It still is,” Coco answered. “All the books that don’t get read much are kept in storage here for safe keeping. I guess you could call it the city’s archive building. We even have old videos, records, cassette tapes, even micro film.”

Spike was glad to hear that. “I was under the impression that this building had been converted into another damn coffeehouse.”

“I get all sorts of people in this building,” Coco shared.

She took Spike’s cup from him and refilled it. Then she topped off Fluttershy’s cup before sitting down again. This time, he drank slowly.

That’s when he noticed a flyer on the table, beside the tea service, advertising an outdoor production held at Beaumount Park.

Spike remembered that Charity Kindheart was a well-known costume designer on Bridleway who started the Midsummer Theatre as a way to share her passion for theater with the neighborhood. No matter how busy she was, she always made time for it. But after she moved away to be closer to her grandchildren, New Canterlot lost the special tradition she had started... and its sense of community along with it.

Coco was very upset.

When Spike asked if anyone had stepped in to take over for Charity, Coco said that she had tried, but she wasn’t the type who could handle such things easily... and her lack of volunteers had made it even more difficult.

“‘Please help us revive our long-lost but beloved tradition, the Midsummer Theatre. Guest performances by local theater troupes, including The Method Men, as well as games, food, and much more, this event promises to bring our neighbors together and restore our sense of community, but there’s so much to do...’” Spike read the flyer out loud. “Okay, first of all, you should drop that last bit. You won’t get anywhere unless you get volunteers, but you don’t want to come across as desperate, either. Talk to me as if I had just come to check things out for the first time,” he instructed. “Keep calm, breathe and enunciate carefully.”

“Welcome. I am Coco Pommel. Thank you so much for coming today,” she began.

Spike raised his hand as if to ask a question.

“Why do you want to do drama, anyway?”

“Ever since I was little, I’ve missed all the schools’ plays, because I was always sick,” Fluttershy answered. “I was so set on joining the Drama Club in high school, but I was absent for most of my senior year so I couldn’t even participate in practices. Even now in college, I’m not able to go to class much, but I’ve always wanted to do a play. I think it would be fun for everyone to come together, working together with everyone to create something beautiful... I think that’s a wonderful thing.”

“I think that’s perfect,” Spike told her. “You were able to say exactly what you wanted to because you spoke from your heart. I think you should tell them that at the briefing.”

“No, you should be the leader,” Coco said to him.

“I’m only helping you out. Zenith Industries has no interest in the Midsummer Theatre. Even if it is revived, I won’t join,” he replied. “You’re the one who should be in charge of the activities. In the end, it’s the leader who makes the decisions. There are plays you want to do, aren’t there? You said there was one you wanted to do? What sort of play is it?”

“It’s the story of a girl, haunted by the memory of the man of her dreams, and she is determined to wait until she finds him again,” Fluttershy said. “You may cry, but I hope that everyone will be touched by it...”

When Spike glanced out the window, Coco asked, “Is something wrong?”

“I was just thinking there are some really unique characters in this city,” he said. “Thank you for the cocoa.”

It took some effort for her to form words. “You’re welcome.”

“I’ll see myself out,”

Coco and Fluttershy watched him go, a sudden pain of loss shooting through them. They pressed their lips together, refusing to call out to him. They didn’t want to sound like a couple of desperate women, but they didn’t want to see him leave either.

As he walked out the door and out of her building, Fluttershy received message on her pager. It was from Photo Finish, once one of New Canterlot University’s foreign exchange students, now a young, up-and-coming fashion photographer.

“Fluttershy, I have just bought a new camera. Please, let me film you again.”

Photo Finish loved to take pictures and record videos--the former was more than just a hobby--and Fluttershy was her favorite model.

Fluttershy was flattered, naturally, even though she felt that there had to be somebody, anybody, more qualified, more into fashion and more comfortable in the spotlight than she was and/or ever could be.

“Wouldn’t it be easier for her to film something more interesting?” she asked. “There must be something more exciting for her to take pictures of than me.”

“There isn’t anything more interesting, or cuter, than you Fluttershy!” Coco said.

It was true. Nobody had her beauty, grace, elegance and poise.

Fluttershy blushed.

.

Spike walked under a cloudy sky, alone, to Dr. Fauna’s office.

He didn’t mind having to go see Dr. Fauna, mostly because she was a babe.

Being a dragon, he couldn’t go and see a regular doctor; among other things, his innate strength and resilience had been growing steadily since birth, but his natural fight-or-flight response created a hyper-stimulated state, which manifested as incendia respiro (fire breathing).

Suddenly, Spike heard something, something distinct, like the sound of a motorcycle, and someone calling his name. He jumped out of the way, flattening himself against a chain link fence, as a young woman on a blue motorbike dubbed “the Aviator” passed him.

It was Scootaloo. She was wearing her old dirt bike riding outfit—white leather with red accents shaped like lightning bolts—and black fingerless gloves.

She braked hard, taking off her helmet, and asked, “Are you all right?”

“Were you trying to kill me?!” he yelled at her. “You should watch where you’re going!”

Scootaloo wiped a tear from her eye with the back of her hand. “I’m sorry. I’m not used to driving this thing,” she said truthfully. “I just got my license last week.”

“You better be grateful that I don’t have you arrested for gross negligence and attempted manslaughter!” he told her. “From now on, be more careful.”

She promised, putting her helmet back on, and sped off.

After she was gone, Sandra the wolf bounded out from the bushes, her excitement clear as she nuzzled against Spike’s leg, her tail wagging, seeking his attention.

The waiting room was deserted when they walked into the veterinary clinic. Except for Candy Mane, the receptionist, there was nobody else there. Normally, there would have been a kid with a snake, a farmer with one of his pigs, someone with an exotic bird and a magician with a tiger by now.

“Spike and Sandra to see Dr. Fauna,” he told Candy.

“Please take a seat, Mr. Zenith,” she replied. “I will call you when she’s ready.”

Spike was there for a routine check-up. He was the one getting the check-up, but he had to bring Sandra along to keep up the charade.

Seven and a half minutes later, Candy led the way to the examination room.

The room was pleasant and bright.

“Dr. Fauna will be with you in a moment,” she said.

Sandra sat in the corner of the room while Spike sat on top of the large, stainless steel examination table; his green eyes flickered around the room, looking for quick escape routes. Then he watched apprehensively as Dr. Fauna entered and locked the door behind her.

She did not want to risk the possibility of anyone walking in on them.

“Well, hello,” she greeted him, almost flirtatiously. “It’s good to see you.”

Dr. Fauna smiled warmly at him as she approached the end of the table. She was tall and supple, with brown eyes and short hair pulled into a ponytail. She was really attractive; her blouse did little to conceal her pert breasts, confined within a black, lacy bra. Her smile usually made other people smile in response, but Spike’s expression didn’t change.

His eyes met hers for an instant... then he turned his head away to stare out the window.

“I gotta say, when I saw your name on my schedule today I was really excited,” she said. “Don’t worry, just relax, get comfortable, and I will take care of you.”

As she leaned in close to him, fighting the sudden urge to kiss him, Spike was treated to a glimpse of her tight, round ass. Her eyes flashed as she caught him peeking and shot him a knowing glance, followed by another small smile.

“Well, I can see that your eyes are as gorgeous as ever,” she told him. “Now let’s check your breathing.”

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Spike knew the drill. He growled softly as he turned his face away from her again, cleared his throat, and reached for the buttons on his shirt.

“You know, you don’t have to take your shirt off for this first part,” she said.

“You’re just going to ask me to do it later,” he replied. “I figured I might as well.”

“Open wide,” she said as she looked down his throat. “Thank you. Now...”

Dr. Fauna’s chest heaved; her breathing came in short, rapid bursts, as she placed a thermometer between Spike’s lips—he was thankful that she was taking it orally—then placed her stethoscope over his ribcage and listened to his heart.

She did all the usual things: checking his vitals, took his pulse, normal; his blood pressure was a little high, and heart rate, which was strong and steady.

His core temperature was 2,500 degrees, which he assured her was normal for dragons.

“Ooh, my goodness!” she breathed. “Okay, let me get some gloves on...”

She explored his body, almost caressing his skin, from his strong shoulders all the way down his abdomen. Then came her favorite part of the exam: where he stood up, dropped his pants and showed her what was between his legs.

He failed to see how that was relevant to his examination, but she told him it was.

“Wow,” Dr. Fauna whispered.

Spike was a beautiful physical specimen... and he would be lying if he didn’t think her body was beautiful.

Dr. Fauna’s eyes were transfixed on Spike as she felt around his loins. She massaged his penis, gently cupping his testicles with one hand, then he winced as she gingerly ran a finger between his buttocks with her other hand.

It was then that Spike began to notice that Dr. Fauna’s breathing had become much heavier... and the look on her face said, “Yes, I am enjoying this too.”

But it wasn’t until Spike inhaled deeply that Dr. Fauna realized just what she was doing. She gasped and slowly drew back, apologizing profusely for crossing an ethical line, and told him that he could put his clothes on.

“I wish all of my patients were like you,” she said. “And it does not hurt that you’re easy on the eyes,” she added to herself.

Spike snorted black smoke as he asked, “You want to say that a little louder? I think the receptionist out in your waiting room didn’t quite hear you.”

“You don’t have anything to worry about,” she said, showing him the silver ring that he had given her. “Your secret’s safe with me.”

She wore it on her finger like an engagement ring, but it was the symbol of her loyalty.

“So, we’re done here?” he asked, straightening his pants.

“Well, I think that we have got to get you out more,” she went on. “Have you given any more thought about having dinner with me some night?”

“I don’t feel safe around you,” he replied. “Besides, you might yawn yourself to death.”

After what she had just done, he didn’t think that would be very professional.

It was never a good idea to start romantically seeing someone one met on a regular basis.

“Why would someone like you ever want to go out with someone like me?” he asked.

“You’re smart, sweet, brave, warm, loyal and kind... when you want to be,” she said.

Spike was surprised by that.

“All right, if it means that much to you... I’ll go out with you,” he said.

She gasped. “Really?”

“I hate to see grown women cry,” he said, “especially ones who take pity on suffering, dumb animals like me.”

“There. Now, was that so bad?” she asked.

“Oh, just give me the treat,” he replied as he finished putting his shirt back on.

Dr. Fauna gave him a kiss on the cheek... and her personal number before he left.

“If you ever need anything... even after hours... just give me a call,” she said hopefully. She kissed him again as he left and added, “It’s always a pleasure.”

.

As Spike walked through the parking lot, up to the entrance to the University’s basketball gym, he could feel the students eyeing him. They were such simple-minded humans it was too easy for Spike to figure out what they were thinking.

“Look, it’s the gorgeous Zenith guy!”

“He always looks so perfect,”

“It’s weird, because I really want him to like me but I also kinda want him to die a little,”

“Um, e-excuse us, we just wanted to say g-good morning. That’s all,” Ocean Spray said.

“Well, hello,” Spike replied as he walked on.

“He’s so hot,” Berryshine sighed. “His smile is perfect, too.”

“He’s got to have, like, a way hot girlfriend,” Golden Harvest added.

“She must be awesome,” Daisy agreed.

“I don’t know,” said Rose. “He doesn’t seem the sort to be madly in love with anybody.”

“Come on, I know there’s more going on there,” Lily replied.

As Spike entered the gymnasium, he nodded to Applejack, Fluttershy, Sunset Shimmer, Pinkie Pie, Rainbow Dash and Rarity, who were dressed in workout clothes, doing aerobics, and they waved back at him, catching the attention of a trio of jerks who glared at him.

The first was Zappityhoof, the slim, smug and vicious de facto leader of the gang, and as such was usually the most sensible in making important decisions, yet was very childish for the most part despite her intelligence. Then there was Goldcap, whose frizzy hair made her stand out in any crowd; slender, mischievous and fierce, but rude and dim-witted. And finally Decepticolt, the toned, short-tempered muscle of the trio—and to a greater extend the harshest and most aggressive, even more so since he had only one ear.

To everyone else, they were just a group of young punks who suddenly arrived in New Canterlot City one day with the belief that they would be automatically accepted into high society, but Spike knew them as three power-hungry, obsessed witches that had lost their magic long, long ago and caused nothing but trouble.

Although the three hung out together, they didn’t like most other people and they enjoyed making them miserable... and they especially liked harassing Spike.

Before Spike had walked in, Decepticolt had given one of the teachers a slip of paper and said, “Doctor’s note.”

“Again?” Coach Miller asked. “Your doctor already got you out of basketball.”

“Twisted ankle,”

“Volleyball,”

“Pulled a hamstring,”

“Soccer,”

“Concussion,”

“Dodge ball,”

“Appendix removed,”

“Baseball,”

“Ruptured spleen,”

“Badminton,”

“Salmonella,”

“And tiddlywinks,”

“Tuberculosis scare,”

Now, the three witches marched up to Spike and Decepticolt got right in his face.

“What the Tartarus do you want?” Spike asked as they approached him.

“I didn’t appreciate having the police knock on my door,” Decepticolt said. “I don’t like people making me look bad, Zenith. Especially jerks like you.”

“You mean making you look bad in front of your whores,” Spike countered. “I still can’t believe you’re scared of them.”

“You think you’re better than me?” Decepticolt asked.

“Everyone’s better than you. Accept it,” Spike replied. “And what is that smell, did you bathe in raw sewage this morning? Do the world a favor: go through the car wash... with your mouth open. Now, it’s time for your line. It should go something like this: ‘Duh!’”

“You and me, outside, now!” Decepticolt shouted.

Suddenly, Fluttershy slapped Decepticolt and he turned and stared wide-eyed at her.

“Keep your hands off him, Decepticolt,” she said firmly. “Just leave him alone.”

“Decepticolt, hit the showers!” Coach Miller stated. “You’re done.”

“She hit me!” Decepticolt shouted.

“And I will deal with it,” Miller said. “You, hit the showers.”

Decepticolt towered over Fluttershy and told her, “One of these days, Fluttershy, with or without Spike, something really bad is going to happen to you.”

That’s when Coach Miller grabbed Decepticolt by his one ear and led him away, saying, “Well, Fluttershy, you can throw down when you want to.”

Straightening her shirt, Fluttershy turned and said, “Sorry, Spike, that wasn’t--”

“Thanks,” he cut her off.

As he turned from her, Fluttershy didn’t miss the way he brushed against her. The way his sleeve whispered across her breasts. Her nipples instantly went hard and erect, hardening into painful peaks beneath her shirt for the whole world to see.

She was grateful that no one saw it... except him.

She wanted Spike to see but he had ignored it as he started to walk off.

A sigh escaped Fluttershy as a curl formed at the corner of Spike’s mouth. A shiver of pleasure traveled down her spine and she subconsciously licked her lips as he walked away. His scent of smoky wood and smoked meat filled her nostrils, making her dizzy. His touch made her want to lose all self-control; it made her feel pure happiness and ecstasy. It ignited a fire inside her that threatened to consume her and everything she held dear.

Spike and Fluttershy were each other’s protectors. She was one of the very few women willing to approach him. He was always too serious, too intense, mostly because everyone else found him so unnerving... but she still couldn’t figure out what was bothering him.

Then her fantasies came to an abrupt end when she heard Applejack taking a bite out of an apple and saying, “Fluttershy, don’t tell me ya’re still obsessin’ over Spike.”

The crunch had shaken her out of her reverie and she cleared her throat, trying her best to act natural. It was hard to do when her traitorous body wanted to melt into a puddle at his feet.

“I am not,” she replied hastily.

“Oh, please! It’s so obvious that you’re crushing on him,” Rarity went on. “He is so far out of your league--”

“He’s like Dragonuv burning the 18th at Death Valley, and you’re like 9-putting the windmill at Poney Island mini-golf,” Pinkie told her.

“If you’re still hot for Spike, just ask him out already and end this suffering,” said Sunset.

“Ask him out?” Fluttershy asked. “Right here, right now in the gym? What if he said no? I don’t know if I could take that kind of rejection.”

Fluttershy felt so ridiculous whenever Spike was around that she could barely even form sentences when she talked to him. It was like jumping into the deep end of really cold pool.

“If you don’t ask him out, I’m gonna literally kick your ass,” Rainbow Dash scowled.

Fluttershy muttered something as she checked her reflection in the small glass window of one of the gym’s doors. She looked like Tartarus. There was no way he’d be attracted to her. She was sweaty from her morning exercises and she smelled like a kid who had been outside all day long. She tugged down her hair, which was tied into a ponytail, but it didn’t seem to help. It would have to do. And just as Dash was about to raise her foot and kick her friend in the butt, Fluttershy took a deep breath... and went for it.

“Here it goes,” she thought.

“What’s up, Spike?” she began. “I haven’t had a chance to talk to you since... since...”

But he still wasn’t paying attention to her. His eyes were fixed on Rarity, who was now standing in front of one of the vending machines.

He walked up to her after she’d made her selection and asked, “You’re not seriously planning to drink that, are you, Rarity?”

Rarity gasped as she uncorked her soda using the machine’s built-in bottle opener.

Hearing her name from his mouth--for the first time in a long time--was almost more than she could bear.

“Mind your own business, Mister Zenith,” she replied haughtily. “Not all of us have the time to properly cook full meals. Besides, sustenance is sustenance, no matter how one takes it.”

“Do you really believe that?” Spike asked. “If you do, then prove it.”

“What?” she asked.

“I thought we should get better acquainted,” he said. “If I didn’t, would I be offering to have dinner with you?”

“Huh?” Rarity asked, rather stupidly.

“I thought we might have dinner tonight,” he elaborated. “Tonight, my place, eight o’clock, I am going to make dinner for you as guests in my home.”

“Wait a minute, ‘guests’, plural as in ‘more than one’?” Pinkie inquired.

“That’s right. You’re all invited. I’ll pick you up after class,” Spike said.

Then he exited the gym.

Rarity’s mouth hung open in pleasure. She had never expected to be invited to the home of one of the most powerful men in Equestria, the one who made other men quake with fear and women tremble with desire. She swallowed slowly, trying to gather her thoughts.

“Wait. Spike lives in that really big mansion, right?” Rainbow Dash asked.

“Yes, Pendragon Castle,” Fluttershy stated in reply.

They were surprised that she actually knew its official name.

“You’ve heard of it?” she asked them.

“You mean he actually lives there?” Sunset asked in disbelief.

“I know it looks creepy from the outside,” Fluttershy admitted. “But, inside, I think it could be kind of... cool.”

“Yeah, if you drink blood,” Rarity commented.

“I do not kill God’s creatures,” Fluttershy told her.

“We eat creatures others kill in order to survive,” Applejack reminded her.

“I do not eat God’s creatures,” Fluttershy stated. “The thought nauseates me.”

“Unusual eating habits draw attention,” said Pinkie Pie, who knew this better than most.

“Then I will pretend to eat whatever is served,” Fluttershy replied.

“Pretending is good,” said Sunset, “but what will you do if served haggis?”

“Haggis? What is haggis?” Rarity asked.

“It’s a sheep’s stomach stuffed with meat and barley,” Sunset answered.

“And what do you do with it?” asked Dash.

“Ya eat it!” Applejack told them.

“How revolting!” Rarity exclaimed.

As the girls returned to the locker room, their minds filled with eager thoughts of Spike’s home; they had always wanted to see the inside of it.

Their excitement was mixed with nervousness.

.

After his trip to the University’s gym, Spike made a brief stop at the boys’ dormitories just off campus. When he walked in, he watched as the school’s rugby team beat up Rumble for turning the volume on his CD player all the way up day after day.

“I swear, every day it’s the same thing,” Spike said.

“Don’t just stand there!” Rumble exclaimed. “Do something! Help me!”

That’s when Headmistress Cadence came charging down the hallway, waving a broom over her head like it was a sword.

“Will you idiots knock it off?!” she shouted.

Some of the rugby players returned to their rooms, but most of them ran outside, trying to avoid Cadence’s assault.

“Those stupid boys,” she said. “I’m the one all the damn neighbors complain to!”

“It’s not easy being Headmistress and a dorm mother, is it?” Spike asked her.

“Cadence, you should have come sooner to save me!” Rumble whined.

“You are just as much at fault!” she told him. “I hope you’ve learned your lesson.”

“Yes, ma’am...”

As Spike helped the kid back to his room, he could help but feel a little sorry for him.

Rumble was a kind guy who cared for his friends, plus he had a lot of guts. Aside from being hardheaded, he was relatively laid back but scary when he got angry. He got into New Canterlot University on an athletic scholarship (like a lot of the male students); he had been the soccer team’s star midfielder... until he was forced to quit partway through the season.

During his final game he totally snapped and got in a fight with one of the opposing players. To this day no one knew exactly what it was that set him off, but this much is fact: he knocked out all of the opposing team’s front teeth and when his own coach stepped in to stop him, Rumble kicked him in, well... a tender spot. As a result, he was thrown off the team.

Now he was little more than a pathetic deadbeat. The dorm Rumble was staying in was supposed to be reserved for students on athletic scholarships, but even though he got kicked off the team he was not budging an inch. And he was always bragging about how long the school had been trying to evict him.

In his own words, Rumble had no choice: his parents were poor and he was lazy.

At any rate, Spike was the only other person who talked to him.

“Damn those rugby team jerk-offs...” Rumble grumbled. “They can’t expect me to get a job, pay rent and go to school all at the same time!”

“You know no one can hear you when you whisper,” Spike told him. “Damn those rugby team jerk-offs!”

“Who said that!?!” someone shouted from somewhere in the building.

“Are you trying to get me killed?!” Rumble shouted.

“You are such a wimp, you know that?” Spike asked.

“If it was just one of those guys, I wouldn’t give in,” Rumble replied. “But just wait, I’ll get all of them just before graduation day. Then, Spike Zenith, I’ll let you watch my back.”

“Lucky me...” Spike droned sarcastically.

“You’re not gonna do it!”

“To be honest, I’m more on their side than yours,”

“Since when?”

“Since that day when you--”

“Keep it DOWN, will ya!?”

On his way out, Spike came across two more of the University’s students.

“You saw it, right?” Featherweight asked.

“Yeah, so I guess it’s really true,” Tender Taps replied.

“What’s going on? What are you two talking about?” he asked as he approached them.

“Spike, it was here just now. The ghost of that girl everyone’s been talking about,” Featherweight replied.

“She comes up to you, and then gives you something with a curse on it,” Tender Taps went on. “She looks like an average girl, but there’s something about her where you can tell she’s not quite right.”

.

The New Canterlot City Bank was constructed in 1908 and was the first of two established in the city’s Financial District. They managed many accounts of some of Equestria’s richest citizens, including Spike Zenith. A lot of the original architecture had been preserved, which meant the high ceilings and arches provided good vantage points and perches in case the Equestrian Dragon ever needed to stealthily infiltrate the building.

Of course, Spike did business with multiple banks around the world, so that if anything were to be stolen, it would be a small loss. He had given up keeping count of the number of times someone had tried to rob this particular bank... and failed. Spike had also created accounts for each of the girls on his scholarship program in case of emergency; Fancy Pants had the accounts’ information.

After Spike went inside, two heavyset businessmen in top hats, Claude and Stinky Bottom, co-owners of the Puppet and Hat Emporium in Manehattan, entered the bank with the intention of opening an account.

Honey Harvest, the president of the bank, introduced herself and asked if there was anything she could do to help them.

“Well, we had planned on opening a branch office in this city, but I don’t think you have the proper facilities,” Claude began.

“Our bank may be small, but our assets are over twelve billion bucks,” she told them.

“What about cash on hand? Say I wanted to cash a check for... one million dollars?”

“No problem at all,” she replied.

“What about security against robberies, holdups?” Stinky Bottom inquired.

“All of our tellers are armed, including--and especially--the women; the police department, which we wholeheartedly support, is directly across the street; and in the balcony, there are no less than three Equestrian Army soldiers with M-16 rifles,” Honey Harvest stated, very, very proudly.

“A nice little bank you have here,” Claude commented. “Do you give calendars at Hearth’s Warming time?”

“For the ladies, every year, twelve months, each a different picture of Mr. Spike Zenith, the owner,” Honey Harvest said proudly.

She pointed in the direction of the man in question, who had entered the vault to check on one of his safety deposit boxes. When Spike came back out, he spotted Amber Hays, a female con artist well-known in the city. He thought about tossing her out, but decided against it.

“Not here, not in a public place,” Spike reminded himself. “I’ve got more important things to take care of right now.”

“My partner and I’ll discuss it and let you know,” Claude told Honey Harvest.

And they left the bank, as did Spike.

.

Somewhere in the vast dockland slums of New Canterlot, Inky Quills tried not to breathe too hard. He had been rushing down the alley near the train yard, anxious to get to the scene of the crime. That was before he heard Sergeant Spearhead talking to the paramedic around the corner. Sometimes, Quills considered, one could be the best damn reporter in the world by just taking an extra minute to get there.

“You know what that guy says he saw?” Night Watch began incredulously.

“Don’t tell me, let me guess,” Spearhead replied. “A gigantic, menacing, supernatural shape... kind of like a dragon, am I right?”

“That’s it,” was the other man’s reply. “What do you think?”

Spearhead dismissed it. “They’re all OD’d on LSD.”

“It’s still weird, Sergeant,” Night Watch, the paramedic, allowed.

Inky Quills stepped forward with a big grin. “I hear we just had another Dragon attack.”

Spearhead winced and Quills’ smile got even wider.

“That’s, what, eight sightings in just under a month now? I hear Captain Shining Armor’s even opened a file. True?”

“Sorry, Quills,” Spearhead muttered in a half-whisper. “These guys are on acid.”

Sometimes Spearhead gave away tidbits without even knowing it. Quills wondered if there was any way he could sneak in a question or two with the crooks involved.

That’s when one of them, E-Jump, got dragged past by a pair of cops. For a minute, Quills thought that Spearhead might be right. This guy sure looked as though he could have been on drugs. What clothes he had left were torn in half a dozen pieces, the skin beneath crisscrossed with the dull brown of dried blood. His hair was matted with blood, too.

“A dragon, I’m telling you, man, a dragon!”

Quills kept grinning, his most important question having just been answered.

Then Spearhead let his irritation show. “Don’t go writing this crap in the newspaper, Quills. It’ll ruin your already useless reputation.”

“Sergeant, every punk in this town is scared stiff. You know what they’re saying? They say he drinks blood. They say he can’t be killed!”

“And I say you’re full of shit, Quills,” Spearhead said as he walked away without looking back. “Feel free to quote me on that.”

But Inky Quills didn’t give up that easily.

“Sergeant, is there a ten-foot dragon in New Canterlot?” he shouted after him. “And if so, is he on the police payroll?”

There was no answer. Quills hadn’t really expected one. He thought about pursuing the police officer for a second, but decided it would be better if he didn’t.

It didn’t pay to be too annoying.

Besides, he had gotten what he really wanted.

A short time later, Spike arrived at the train yard. But he wasn’t there for the crime that had taken place, at least not originally. He was there to inspect his new personal armored train.

An impregnable beast of steel weighing over twelve-hundred tons and 430 meters long, it was more than just a mode of transportation. Pulled by two shiny black locomotives, a coal car right behind, with sixteen state-of-the-art passenger cars and luxury coaches (each weighing 60 tons, equipped with the highest and very best technology of the day, including heating, air conditioning and state-of-the-art bathrooms), protected by four 20mm antiaircraft batteries onboard, and an armored caboose, it was a veritable fortress on rails.

After he’d inspected his new train, he inspected the area the police had roped off... when the officers weren’t looking. This one had the department baffled.

The poor man was shredded, almost in two. Razor-sharp blades, more like claws, surely the work of the enemy... but a high and mighty city council member in this part of town?

“I’ll wager he wasn’t here for the atmosphere,” Spike thought as he started going through the man’s pockets.

He still had his watch, and the cash and credit cards were still in the wallet, so whoever did this wasn’t after his money... and they left a set of fingerprints behind on the wallet.

Spike scanned the leather then tapped the military-grade earpiece on his right ear and said, “Fancy, I’m uploading some fingerprints for analysis.”

“Searching now...” Fancy Pants replied. “They belong to one Almond Sweet. He’s a rather unremarkable criminal. Small jobs, mostly... That’s strange. Almond Sweet is dead. His body was recovered from the Financial District just under an hour ago.”

“Looks like someone’s tying up loose ends... Thanks,” Spike said and ended the call.

As he sniffed the air again, the distinct odors of blood and alcohol invaded his nostrils. And a cold sensation went up the back of his neck as he glanced around and saw a group of people standing and listening to an oration about their hardships.

“What’s going on over there?” Spike asked.

“Cadence Amore rousing the comrades,” Inky Quills replied.

It was amazing. Even though she worked as headmistress and was dorm mother to one of the University’s athletic teams, she still had time to organize and lead her protests.

“Five years ago, Neighsay was telling you that your jobs were secure. Since then, more than thirteen million of you are out of work!” she shouted. “We’ve seen the army, his army, on the streets, using tanks and live ammunition against citizens whose only crime is their poverty! Do you think there’s going to be any real change? The only thing they’re debating is the most efficient way to turn your blood and sweat into a profit.”

There was truth in what she said: Chancellor Neighsay crushed all opposition.

“Get down off your soapbox, Princess!”

Cadence turned in the direction of three men forcing their way through the crowd: Rover, Spot and Fido; a small team of violent career criminals, extortionists and hit men that were part of the Diamond Dog Gang.

“You don’t like the way we do things in Equestria, you are more than welcome to get on a boat and go join your comrades in the Hooviet Union,” Rover said. “I’d even help you pack... if you asked nicely.”

“The last time I checked, the Constitution of this country protected my right to freedom of speech,” Cadence replied.

“Say cheese, fellas,” Inky said as he aimed his camera in their faces and took their picture, momentarily blinding them with the flash.

“Whaddaya know?” said Spot. “Inky Quills, poking his nose where it doesn’t belong as always.”

“Do you boys want to see your mugs all over the Gazette tomorrow?” he asked them. “Or are you going to back off and let these people go about their business?”

Spike should have obeyed his first impulse to turn around and walk away, but something about this guy... the sheer stubborn, righteous anger in him... it reminded Spike a lot of himself.

“How about I smash your damn camera?” Fido asked. “And then your fingers, one at a time? How ya gonna write this up then, smart guy?”

“Back off, Fido,” Rover ordered. “You know he’s off-limits.”

Fido looked at Rover then at Inky and said, “Careful, Quills, you’re pushing your luck.”

And the Diamond Dogs barreled through the crowed, back the way they came.

“When we gonna give that prick what’s comin’ t’him?” Fido demanded.

“Soon enough,” Rover replied. “Soon enough...”

.

After their classes had ended, Applejack, Fluttershy, Pinkie Pie, Rarity, Rainbow Dash and Sunset Shimmer changed out of their uniforms, showered, put on their street clothes, and were now standing in front of the University, waiting for Spike to pick them up for dinner. Fluttershy in particular couldn’t help but feel a surge of adrenaline coursing through her veins.

She began to think about the tales that had spread about Spike. She liked to imagine him as a dragon, hiding far away in his lair, hoarding his treasures. She laughed at the thought of a dragon asking her and her friends to dinner. Strangely, it made Spike seem less formidable, since he was more like a prisoner in her imagination.

Suddenly, a stretch limousine rounded the corner and stopped at the curb. It was a shiny black, with glowing chrome and tinted windows. Its sleek, dark form took their breath away, every inch of it exuding luxury and expense. It instantly cast an aura of wealth around the man in its back seat. The girls approached the passenger door then stopped before reaching the handle.

How many horror stories started out like this?

A group of not-so-innocent young women, being picked up by a kind, handsome stranger with a soft, deep voice who took them to a place in the middle of nowhere. And then, some creep started to pick them off... one by one.

Then each girl reminded herself that they weren’t in a horror movie.

“If this were a horror movie, there would be more guys. And they would be much cuter than him,” thought Rarity.

That’s when the door opened on its own and Spike offered his hand to them.

When Fluttershy instinctively wrapped her hand around Spike’s arm, something sizzled between them. At first, she thought it was her overactive imagination. But she realized it was his skin burning through the sleeve of his shirt that was so hot to the touch. It was a startling turn on and she could not deny the throbbing, sex-deprived lust pounding through her. She didn’t mistake the sharp intake of his breath when she touched him. Nor did she mistake the sudden urge to wrap her legs around his waist, to feel what was beneath his pants.

And when she touched him again, she felt that same sizzle. He seemed to have felt it, too.

It was enough to make her panties melt right off.

Expensive leather welcomed the girls as they slid into the back seat, the feel of luxury all around. Applejack smiled at the scent of the interior, which had always been a turn on for her. It brought to her mind an image of Spike, a muscular, half-naked cowboy, taming a wild stallion. For some reason, her mind automatically transitioned to being bent over her own saddle and being taken just as hard and wild by that cowboy.

She shook her head. The buttery soft leather was a far cry from the hard leather of her fantasy. Then she looked at the man on the seat beside her.

Spike had always had that old-fashioned, classically handsome movie star look. He’d always looked handsome on T.V., but he was even better looking in real life.

“Buckle up,” he told them.

“You’re kidding, right?” Rainbow Dash asked.

“One thing you will learn about me is that I do not kid, or jest, or joke, or jape, or quip,” Spike said. “This vehicle will not move until we have a completely secure cabin. Buckle up.”

Fluttershy giggled nervously, chiding herself for the schoolgirl sound. Nevertheless, she obediently reached for her seatbelt and strapped it across her body... as did Applejack, Sunset Shimmer, Pinkie Pie and Rarity.

“Looks like we’re waiting on you, Miss Dash,” Spike said.

Rainbow Dash rolled her eyes.

“I saw that,” Spike stated.

Rolling her eyes again, she finally complied and buckled her seatbelt.

“I saw that too,” he said. “I see everything.”

“You ladies are very fortunate Mr. Zenith could fit you into his schedule,” Park said from the driver’s seat. “He has lot of responsibilities, especially in his current business ventures.”

“Keep your one good eye on the road,” Spike told her. “Remember, one scratch and it’s coming out of your salary.”

She nodded in understanding then the car took off, and as it did the girls hoped Spike’s home was far, far away.

.

The drive was filled with anticipation as the black limousine travelled down winding roads lined with stately trees, nestled among the green, rolling hills. As they seemed to ascend higher and higher, the scenery and landscape transformed into a mesmerizing vista of lush plowed fields with haystacks and prosperous farms, which dotted the landscape. The only significant drawback was that they seemed to be in the middle of nowhere; they hadn’t seen another car for miles. It was completely absent of 18-wheelers and vacation traffic.

The limousine slowed as it turned off the desolate highway, neared a set of tall iron gates, which swung open on their own, and drove past a sign bearing the following words: NO SOLICITORS, NO PANHANDLERS, NO ZEALOTS, NO SMOKING, NO TRESPASSING, NO LOITERING, and NO HUNTING.

“Spike must really hate salesmen,” Pinkie thought.

“Your house is quite far,” Fluttershy said. “Aren’t we there yet?”

“Technically, we are there,” Spike replied. “We’ve been driving on the grounds for a little while now.”

“Ya mean all this land is yours?” Applejack asked.

“Aye, lass,” he replied. “The castle and the hills further than the eye can see have been mine for a long, long time.”

Rarity gasped when she saw a mammoth structure, shining like a jewel, sitting on a mountainous hill up ahead.

“Who has a house that obnoxiously huge?!” Rainbow Dash thought.

“He’s even richer than we imagined!” thought Sunset Shimmer.

“Not bad,” Pinkie said, looking at her wristwatch. “Only thirteen minutes and two seconds from the city limits to Casa Spike.”

Park drove the limo up the driveway and stopped between twin columns topped by stone lions. Spike opened the door for the girls, who stepped out of the vehicle and gaped up in awe.

They had never seen a manor like it, for a strange spell seemed to hover over the gloomy estate and they couldn’t help but wonder what lurked within those cold, foreboding walls.

“Well, this is it,” Spike told them.

“You live here?” Rarity asked. “You live here?”

“I am the owner of Zenith Industries,” he said. “I’m therefore expected to live up to certain standards. An apartment doesn’t exactly cut it.”

As the girls walked up to the imposing, stalwart fortress, Rarity thought Spike had way more than he deserved. Not only was the castle miles away from the city, it was beautiful. The battlements rose high, nearly to the clouds it seemed. The large-winged gargoyles looming overhead--that once proudly adorned its rooftops--were darkened with age.

They didn’t have long to admire the view as Spike led them up the front steps of the medieval castle to the large double doors much higher than they were.

“Say, that’s quite a set of knockers,” Pinkie commented on the dragons upon the doors.

Spike took a solid gold key out of his pocket and was about to insert it into the lock when the doors swung open, into the front hall, to reveal a beautiful, statuesque woman in a pristine white tank top and matching white short shorts.

“Oh, Spike! I didn’t know you were home yet,” she said.

“Hey, Tia, I guess you’re taking another personal day?” he assumed.

“Who is she?!” Rarity exclaimed in thought. “Is she his girlfriend? She is pretty! Does this mean Spike’s used to being around beautiful women!?”

Celestia smiled when she saw the girls standing behind Spike. She threw her arms around him, pressing her breasts into his chest, and whispered into his ear, “I am so proud of you.”

The girls’ mouths hung open when Celestia invited them in, and their eyes went wide as they took in everything around them. They had thought the outside was impressive, but the inside was even more so.

Everything in the castle was large, but neater and cleaner than can be told. The tremendous hall was silent as a tomb, and everything was richly furnished from the suits of armor, to the silver weapons on the walls, and the heavy red curtains. Rarity was quick to notice the large portraits with gold frames that hung on either side of the hall. Most of them were of a man whose features bore an uncanny resemblance to Spike, clothed in everything from a judge’s robe to gold medieval armor, dark waistcoats, and military uniforms and regalia—attire unmistakably from other centuries—as well as various, priceless paintings, including the Rococolt girl smiling on a swing, Broncocelli’s Venus de Marelo covering her modesty with her long wavy hair, and a serious shepherd holding his crook in one hand while holding what looked like a dragon’s egg aloft in the other. Coats of arms with swords and axes were peppered in among them and the ancient tapestries, all hanging from strong walls of gray stone.

Pendragon Castle truly was an immense place, full of pomp and splendor... not to mention priceless wonders from every continent. Of course, being in a strange place like that, the girls didn’t know what to expect.

“What a pad,” said Sunset.

“Spike, your place is awesome,” Rainbow Dash added.

“Shoes off at the door, please,” he told them.

Dash gave him a look that said, “You’re serious?”

“If you’re not going to take your shoes off, put these over them,” he said as he held out protective booties.

“Aw, come on,” she protested.

“My house, my rules,” he stated.

“All right! Sheesh!”

As the girls stepped barefoot into the red-carpeted hallway, they were greeted by three meek, sweet, smooth-faced and utterly loyal maids--Red Ribbons, Twinkleworks and Tote Bag--and two rather young butlers--Lemony Crumble and Cobalt Stone--that exuded elegance.

.

“Welcome home, Master Zenith!” they said as one. “Hello, ladies. And welcome to Pendragon Castle.”

“Whoa...” Rainbow Dash said.

“He’s extremely wealthy!” Rarity thought.

They couldn’t believe Spike employed men and women like that.

Aside from their uniforms, they didn’t look like servants at all... and yet, they had served Spike happily and faithfully for years.

“Six more for dinner,” Spike told them.

“Very good, sir,” Lemony Crumble replied.

The maids all nodded and smiled adoring smiles as Spike began to walk determinedly past the conservatory towards the colossal staircase that stood at the far end of the great hall.

The girls gazed in speechless wonder as Spike led them into the main living room, almost afraid to breathe. As they took a look around, they were quick to notice the elegant furniture, including a sofa made of the finest leather hide from Itaily. A giant fireplace was at the center of one of the walls (it almost took up the entire side of one third of the room), and inside the hearth, a fire was crackling, casting light and warmth that filled the entire chamber.

As Rarity stared into the flames, her imagination began to run wild. She imagined a cold winter night, her and the one she loved, snuggling under silk sheets, her wearing something sleek and scandalous, maybe a little incense, soft candlelight, romantic music, a Prench dinner... and he would whisper sweet nothings in her ear.

Then Fluttershy gasped at the polar bearskin rug in front of the burning embers.

“This room is crazy huge!” Rainbow Dash said. “And it’s just for Spike, all by himself?”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Lemony Crumble replied. “This is just the living room area. The master’s bedroom and personal study are separate... you are adorable for thinking that, though.”

As the girls warmed themselves close to the fire, they continued to look around. They never saw such a place. The most fantastic grandfather clock they ever laid their eyes on, music boxes carved out of wood, each one a work of art on its own; and more paintings of several different things: two bright stars shining through clouds at night above Canterlot, a pirate ship, a herd of buffalo, and a Native Equestrian tribe in a wooded encampment.

“Mighty nice set-up ya got here,” Applejack said. “And it was mighty nice of ya to invite us here, too. Ya really got this all to yourself?”

Spike nodded.

“Dude, this is some crib! Seriously, my church isn’t this big!” Rainbow Dash joked.

Pinkie Pie admired the huge wood mantel adorned with a formidable collection of souvenir snow globes Spike had acquired over the years, gallivanting around the world.

“Wow! So pretty,” she said as she shook one. “Where in Equestria did you get these?”

She answered her own question when she saw the words upon the bronze plaque at its base. She gently put it back with the others, including ones from Manehattan, Fillydelphia, New Horseleans, San Franciscolt, West Califoalnia; and Albuckuerque, New Mexicolt. And there were not just ones from Equestria; but ones from Casaflanka, Moroccolt; its sister city Casabronco, Maredrid, Spony; Mareis, Prance; Thrace, Keneighya, Germaney, Yokohayma and Trotkyo, Jockeypan; Rio de Janeighro, Brayzil; Caneighada, Tahayiti, Neighrobi, Rome, Itaily; and Shanghayi... twenty-six in all.

“Who did you have to kill to get all this stuff?” Pinkie asked.

Spike secretly wished she hadn’t worded it like that.

He collected a lot of interesting things, and not just art, but miscellaneous knickknacks and collectibles from other countries: porcelain figurines, marionette puppets, and a doll that could only talk if someone gave her string a pull.

“I haven’t seen one of these in years,” Pinkie said.

“They don’t make dolls like that anymore,” Applejack shared. “Not since the Sweetheart Toy Company almost went out of business 14 years ago.”

Originally named Schätze Toy Company, before the War Against the Reich, it was the largest toy manufacturer in Germaney.

“When I was a little girl, my mother would take me down to the Sweetheart Toy Factory each year at Hearth’s Warming time,” Applejack recalled fondly. “She wanted to impress upon me how lucky we were to give and receive.”

“By collecting toys from the factory and donating them to charity,” Fluttershy guessed. “My mother did the same thing. She still does. For years, the Zenith Foundation has continued this tradition, even after they prevented the Sweetheart Toy Company from closing.”

Then Fluttershy gasped at a tiny plush lobster toy on a little pedestal by the mantle.

“A Pinchers!” she exclaimed.

“That’s right,” Spike said. “You collect Beanie Babies®?”

“Well, I’ve seen them at the mall,” Fluttershy laughed nervously. “No big deal.”

“Seen them? We went wild for those little things,” Pinkie shared. “So, who’s your favorite? Mine’s Dazzler, obviously. Oh, so cute,” she giggled.

“What was that one you would never let your mom wash?” Sunset Shimmer asked Fluttershy. “A purple dragon, that’s it. You still sleep with that little guy, don’t you?” she chuckled (almost evilly).

“You will pay for that,” Fluttershy thought.

“I’m a collector,” Spike admitted. “I thought they were a good investment.”

While the other girls were talking about their toys, Rainbow Dash’s eyes were drawn to the liquor cabinet.

“Sweet mother of pearl,” she thought. “Each of these is probably worth a fortune on its own. Screaming Eagle ale, hard cider, Wolf beer... Roaring Dragon Wine?! Bucking jackpot! I didn’t think this stuff really existed! I would get sooo hammered...”

Spike’s tastes were as refined as they were mysterious.

Taking a small gold key from his pocket, Spike approached the liquor cabinet, unlocked it, and carefully selected a brandy bottled in 1783.

“Seventeen eighty-three was a good year,” he said as poured two glasses. “Mozcart wrote his great mass, the Mountgolfillyer Brothers went up in their first balloon, and Trotland officially recognized the independence of Equestria.”

He offered the second glass to Rainbow Dash, who held it with both hands. They raised their glasses and each took a sip.

“Smokey...” Dash said.

“It’s got a Tartarus of an after-burn!” she added in thought.

As she continued to sip her drink, she joined Fluttershy at an aquarium built into the wall opposite of the fireplace, filled with tropical marine fish, many of them not native to Equestrian waters—Beta, Clownfish, Lemonfish, Roughy, Rubyscale, Bass, Archerfish, Darter, Arrowfish, Goldfish, Trout, Carp, Grouper, Hatchetfish, Silverfin, Steelbelly, Luminette, Perch, and even a Jockeypanese Tang—as they swam around a small decorative castle inside.

“They’re beautiful, aren’t they?” Spike asked.

“Yes, they-- they are,” Fluttershy replied.

“No matter what’s going on in my life, I can always look at them and be totally at peace,”

Just then, Fancy Pants walked in and said, “Excuse me, sir. Telephone call for you in the study; it’s the Chancellor.”

“What country?” Spike inquired.

“This one, sir,”

“Neighsay? Ugh! Probably needs another loan,” Spike groaned. He turned to the girls as they watched him go and he told them, “This shouldn’t take too long. Please, feel free to look around and touch things while I’m gone.”

As soon as Spike disappeared from their sight, the girls cautiously began to explore his castle, their curiosity aroused.

.

Applejack trudged along the grand hallways of Spike’s castle until she arrived at a big oak door, opened it, and peeked inside. Turning on the light switch, she saw that the room was filled with weapons and more gruesome machines, everything from stocks and pillories to blowguns and hand grenades. Broadswords hung on the walls. It looked as though Spike had every weapon known to man in this place. She stepped over to a tall, upright box in the corner--which had metal spikes on the inside--to have a closer look at it. That’s when she realized it was an Iron Maiden.

“Who is this guy?” she thought as her eyes roamed around the room. “He gives to humanitarian causes and collects all this.”

There were glass cases on one wall, and Applejack’s jaw dropped when she saw what they contained: an assortment of whips, chains, handcuffs, birch whipping rods, branding irons, a wooden horse, restraints (black leather as well as metal), and other torture devices she could not even begin to identify. She could tell that Spike was an adventurer, tried everything once.

As she backed out of the Armory, she found herself in the garage, where a red convertible was parked near the workbench, and it was covered in tools, including a solid gold twenty-seven piece ratchet set with Spike’s initials engraved into them.

“Ya can’t put a price tag on this kind of hardware,” Applejack said.

She turned away, wondering what else she would find.

.

At the same time, Sunset Shimmer wandered into one of the vast libraries, which was furnished with bookcases full of everything from modern hardback best sellers to weathered, leather-bound tomes of forgotten lore, all held up by handsome golden stallion and dragon-shaped bookends... all of which were fireproof. The scent of aged paper and leather filled the air, adding to the mystique surrounding the collection.

Sunset’s eyes lit up as she examined the books, their pages yellowed with age and their covers adorned with intricate designs reminiscent of a bygone era. Spike had the latest up-to-date dictionary, scrolls from the Buffalo philosopher Plato, plus textbooks on chemistry, biology, medicine, plastic surgery, and a history of make-up, as well as books about bats, lizards, snakes, and even ogres.

As Sunset approached one of the bookcases, her fingers brushed a set of feathered arrows in a quiver and she studied one of the many shelves of curios. Her gaze drifted past a small dragon carved out of white marble and a glass box full of carefully preserved iridescent butterflies before scanning a row of books, surveying the titles. She spotted a collection of hefty hardbacks featuring the most fabulous characters in Trotish literature, including Robyn Hood, King Pendragon, Bucky Sharp, Shamrock Honeycombs and Olive R. Twist, among many others.

She slid one of the novels out, read the golden title on its embossed cover--Gone with the Wind--and carefully opened it, half-expecting a mighty gust to erupt from the pages. Her eyes flashed as she closed the book and slid it back into its spot on the shelf when she saw Lemony Crumble staring at her from the doorway leading out to the hall.

Her eyes met his as she asked, “How did you come to work for Spike?”

“I answered an ad for a summer job five years ago. I’ve been with him ever since,” he replied. “Summers in Mareis, winters all over Europone, and the rest of the year in Equestria... but I’m living his life, not mine.”

.

Meanwhile, Fluttershy opened the door to the conservatory and peered inside. It contained bushes of roses of almost every color, and rare hybrids including the result of a lily being bred with a Venus flytrap, appropriately dubbed a flytrap lily.

She had never, ever seen another plant of its kind.

And when a fly buzzed overhead, the fanged flower chomped.

She chose another door and she couldn’t believe her eyes.

The door opened to reveal a whole room covered in nothing but gold coins. And not just gold, but treasure chests and velvet sacks stuffed to their brims, each full of pearls, jewels and other magnificent treasures. And in the center of it all were a lump of amber and a gold nugget bigger than herself--extremely big, extremely heavy and extremely valuable--sitting on top of a large anvil also made out of solid gold (and showing little signs of wear).

Fluttershy had heard the expression “worth his weight in gold,” and Spike was so rich that he was literally rolling in dough. Truly, it was a mighty collection.

She quickly closed the door.

That room was obviously private. Tartarus, it should have been locked.

But instead of greed or even her usual lustful hunger for Spike, curiosity filled her.

The man was shrouded in even more mystery.

She continued down the hallway, away from the gold room, and then paused when she spotted another portrait of a man. His expression was severe, his pose dignified, as if he was still guarding secrets long past. His piercing eyes were familiar, echoing the intensity she’d seen in Spike. And she began to lose herself in the mystery of the man’s stern, attractive gaze. The quiet of the castle amplified her thoughts as she turned away and gazed out a nearby window.

“I must be imagining things. For a moment, I thought I saw a tiger in Spike’s backyard,”

While Fluttershy was taking in her intimidating surroundings, Pinkie Pie was all but literally bouncing off the walls. There was one room full of nothing but plush pillows, another room that was literally a ball pit, and a storage room with an old chest full of old costumes.

“Somebody around here must have been in show biz,” she said. “He has a soda fountain in his den!” she squealed. “Stables, helipad, pools, a sauna, a hot tub, a Jacuzzi, and a bowling alley, oh my!” she exclaimed before she peeked into the laundry room, where the three maids bustled around the ironing board.

As they worked, Pinkie caught glimpses of Red Ribbons making a huge feather bed with silken sheets and Twinkleworks folding fine linens while Tote Bag mended a hole in a shirt. Pinkie was also quick to notice they had a picture of Spike in their quarters; it was a pinup from when he was Mr. July on the Playgirl calendar.

She eventually found the kitchen. Traditionally, a more feminine room, Spike’s kitchen had a more masculine touch to it—cloves of garlic and sun-dried ancho, chipotle and chili peppers hung from the ceiling in long wreaths, while racks filled with every spice, herb and seasoning lined the counters.

“I could cook the most wonderful meals in a kitchen like this!”

Then she stopped to bask in the glory of the refrigerator.

“It’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen in my life,” she breathed.

.

Rainbow Dash checked out the workout room, which looked more like a Jockeypanese dojo, before she stumbled across Spike’s man cave.

The entertainment center had everything from a gigantic high definition big screen T.V. with six-speaker hi-fi surround sound system, 250 channels and PlayStation hookup--with the latest video games--to a VCR/DVD combo player, shortwave and long-wave radios, 8-disc CD player, 8-track player, vibrating massage recliners, a mini bar, toaster oven, microwave, two dozen pinball machines (each with its own theme) and no less than six billiard tables.

“Damn!” Rainbow Dash swore. “That’s a nice T.V.!”

Celestia had arranged for it to be delivered three days early--it arrived a little over an hour ago--and it was so big that the instruction manual alone was bigger than the old T.V. set.

Surrounding it were shelves upon shelves filled with old film reels, VHS tapes and DVDs, one had the complete works of Arnold Frankfurter—except the one where he got pregnant—another was covered with trophies, ribbons and medals... all covered in dust.

“When did they make that a sport?” she wondered.

There were baseballs under glass--one signed by Mickey Manetle, another by Joe DiManeggio... and one autographed by Duke “Silver Fox” Snyder and the rest of the 1955 Bronclyn Dodgers, including Joe Black, Sandy Co Fax, “Don” New Comb, Dixie Howl and Pee Wee Reese. But the thing that really caught Dash’s eye was an autographed poster of pro skateboarding sensation and spokesman Pony “Birdmane” Hawk. She saw him compete in the Rage at the Badlands in 1985.

He was the reason Dash got into extreme sports in the first place.

This room put all of her favorite hangouts and sports bars to shame!

All that was missing were the posters of half-naked women in bikinis up on the walls.

.

Outside Pendragon Castle, Rarity walked the length of the area stretching across the back of the estate, and ruefully passed three dozen sculptures by the outdoor pool. Stone statues of old Chicoltgo gangsters with Tommy guns mingled with steel soldiers shaped like playing cards, very lifelike topiary animals, a bronze sculpture of a man with the head of a bull, and other unsightly statuary.

It looked like the exhibits of a museum that had been condemned.

Spike had a well-rounded collection, not because he thought that fine art was a good investment, and it made Rarity start to think what it suggested about the finances of the lord of the château.

“Old world colonial... It’s elegant yet casual, sophisticated yet tasteful,” she thought.

And yet, she couldn’t help but think how pretentious the man was.

“I’ll wager his pillows are stuffed with money and his boxers are made of silk,” she added to herself. “Assuming he even wears undergarments, that is.”

As she made her way back indoors, she became enchanted with the notion of living in such a big place... with an aromatherapy room, a private steam bath, heated floors, a custom-made armoire, a chifforobe and mirrored walk-in closets, all in oak, maple and mahogany.

She could grow accustomed to this lifestyle... living like Queen Neighfertiti.

“Remember, Rarity, the more they have, the less they’re worth,” she reminded herself. “And this guy must be the most worthless man in Equestria.”

She didn’t buy his pretending-to-be-a-proper-gentleman act. Spike may have looked innocent, but in private, he got hot and heavy with Celestia... or so Rarity believed.

She pulled open the door that led to the music room, which was filled with instruments, most of which began with the letter “B”, including a bass guitar, a banjo, a bassoon, a bugle, bongos, balalaika and bagpipes. Sheet music sat on a table next to an old gramophone and a lot of old vinyl record albums with music by Bach, Beethooven and Brayhms.

Intrigued by the grand piano tucked elegantly in the corner, Rarity walked over to it and gently lifted the fallboard to expose its keys. The dark wood was so polished that it seemed to invite her touch. Then she quivered as she imagined Spike bending her over the piano, her milk white breasts pressing against the fine mahogany cover.

Her gaze drifted from the piano to a canvas on an easel with a paint palette and a cup of brushes on the table beside in. Then she was drawn to a fiery red gemstone in the shape of a heart contained within a large glass bell jar.

Rarity had never seen anything more beautiful. She’d always been a true romantic, a materialistic girl enslaved to pretty things: new clothes, new shoes, new lingerie, expensive smells, the salons, shiny jewelry and designer handbags... but now she wanted to keep this close and admire it forever.

She lifted the glass cover, and reached in to touch the jewel, when a little voice inside her said, “I don’t think you should do that. It’s not yours, after all.”

Rarity was quick to replace the glass cover.

The next room she found was nothing pictures and photographs on the walls. Among them were photos from Spike’s time in the Himalhayan Mountains near the border of Kirina and Neighpal. His three months studying with the high holy monks of Kathmanedu were invaluable. There were also more whimsical, colorful illustrations of various characters in fantastical situations, and circus posters featuring images of Spike with the caption, “The Unkillable Man”, as well as framed newspaper headlines, article clippings and magazines with Spike on the covers: EQ (Equestria Quarterly), Modern Male, and Newsday... among many, many others.

PENDRAGON MANOR DESTROYED

Pendragon Castle Sold To Private Owner

Young Billionaire Buys Up 435 Prime Acres

New Man in TOWN! Who’s Your Daddy?

Zenith-Mania Sweeps Nation

Zenith Plays Hardball, Board Takes Pay Cut

Zenith, the Commander in Chief of Military Hardware, Takes Command

Zenith Saves South Equestrian Ambassadors From Assassination

Learn The Secret to Not Getting Your @ss Kicked!

The Ultimate Romance: Spike Zenith. He’s Hot, He’s Cool, and He’s SINGLE.

Sexiest Man Alive: Strong, Secure, and Squared Away. At Last, A Real Man.

Then Rarity froze when she saw the plethora of framed black-and-white photos on one wall that featured Spike with almost all of the 20th Century’s internationally known superstars, including most of the biggest stars in Applewood: everyone from Dr. Maretin Luther King Jr. and Mane Allgood, to Detectives Sniff and Couscous, the slipperiest sleuths in all of Moroccolt and masters of disguise. Spike stood with Humphrey Bocart and Sidneighy Greenstreet (the three of them in suits) on the sets of The Mangalese Drake and Casaflanka, lighting the cigars of W. C. Fields and E. G. Robinson, singing alongside Flank Sinatra, Dean Maretin and the rest of the Rat Pack, shaking hands with Care E. Grant and Clark Stable, and posing with the Marks Brothers; Grouchy, Chunky and Harpy, as well as Paul Newmane and Mareilyn Monroe, plus Dalton Whinny and his “Nine Old Men.” He sat beside directors Hitchcock, Spielberg and Olive R. Stone, as well as other big names like Shirley McLane, Burt Reinolds, Marelon Brayndo, Arnold Frankfurter, Sylvester Stallione and Flint Westwood, having steaks with Mr. T and the rest of the A-Team, training with Nureinyev and Baryshneighkov, and standing on the set of The Goodfillies with Maretin Scorsese, Bray Liotta, Robert De Neighro and Joe Pescolt (the latter before he became Mayor of Manehattan).

The list seemed to go on forever: there was Trigger, the “Smartest Horse in the Movies”; Mark Haymill, Rita Mareno, Harvey Kormane, Sandy Duncanter, Twiggy, Rich Little, Steve Maretin and Maretin Short, Brook Shields, Farrah Faucet and Princess Diana of Bales... Not to mention all the various singing sensations such as Maretin Day, Flankces Langford, the Dining Sisters (Jean, Ginger, and Patty), Warring and his Pennsylmaneians, the short-lived Rhythmares, and the even-shorter-lived Starlighters, the Spice Girls and the Buckstreet Boys, Vanilla Ice, an up-and-coming group known as Complex Strategy... and other bands whose names were protected under First Amendment parody rights. And in the center of it all more black-and-whites of Spike sitting next to former Chancellor Neighxon at a baseball game, shaking hands with former Chancellor Reingan, and standing in the middle of all of the then-Supreme Court Justices: Marshal Law, “Really Big Guns” Gunsburg, Scoltia, Junta, Kenneighdy, “Iron Will” Reinquist, Scouter, Brayer, and O’Day.

But Rarity didn’t see any photos of Spike’s family.

“You need photos only when you want to remember something,” he had once said.

It was like he refused to move into the twenty-first century.

Then her eyes focused on a single glossy of him holding a drink in one hand while staring off into the distance... at nothing in particular.

Damn, that tie looked good on him! At least he had good taste—impeccable taste, really.

“Spike really does have it all,” she thought jealously as she left the room before anyone saw her. “Money, awards... all that’s missing is a late-night talk show and fanatical female fans breaking into his home.”

But even with all that, Spike was a male of more questions than answers.

.

While all of this was going on, Celestia listened through the door to Spike’s study as he discussed economic policy to the Equestrian Chancellor over the phone.

“Neighsay, if the government spends more money than it takes in, it goes into debt,” Spike explained.

After that call, Spike conference called a few of the members of his board of directors.

“Knows, how is Rich Enterprises doing with their development in Brayzil?” Spike asked.

“It’s not,” Knows replied. “Filthy just learned that in order to build Club Rich the way his wife envisions, they would be forced to cut down six thousand of the one hundred million acres of the Brayzilian Rainforest’s jungle, which you just bought for Zenith Industries.”

“And...?” Spike asked.

“If they try to cut down any of that forest, they would have to displace us, and Spoiled Rich could cause trouble,” Knows elaborated.

Spoiled Rich was a first-class bitch.

Naturally, Mr. Rich wouldn’t like to hear his wife referred to as such, but there was nothing first-class about Spoiled Rich except for that.

And she was so full of plastic--from her nose job to her breast implants--that she was practically recyclable.

“Well, she’s not going to want anything to do with that land anyway,” Spike replied.

“Why not?” he asked.

“No ‘real’ night life. Now, how are we doing with our development in South Flankida?”

“Well, sir, we have a problem in Fort Laud-Her-Ale,” Hard Pitch reported. “In order to make room for the magnificent, largest-in-the-world shopping mall, we’re going to have to tear down a nursing home for the aged. At present, there are 200 very old people living there... and most of them are invalids, bedridden and dying... it wouldn’t look good in the papers.”

“Tell them about the nuclear reactor that was standing there before it,” Spike told him.

“Excellent,” Hard Pitch replied.

When Spike finally exited his study, Celestia was quick to notice the change in his eyes.

For some reason, unrelated to his work, Spike was not as cheerful as usual.

“Something’s wrong,” Celestia thought. “His mood is even darker today.”