Separate the Sorrow and Collect the Cream
B_25
Rarity didn't know how to deal with the hatred other than to stifle it. To clench in her chest and implode her frame as much as she could. It was undignified for a lady to curl, fetal-style, on the floor of the club. One where the railings lit neon and smoke was a thin layer to the air.
"You see that guy's thing? Probably bigger than Spike's—right?"
And the chosen company, if actually chosen, wouldn't have been company at all.
"How crude of a statement."
"Spike have a crude one?"
“Crude what?”
"Crude thingy between the legs of course!"
"...do you even know what crude means?"
"Well." Rainbow sat on the stool next to the lady, who unfurled from herself, a little, to see better of her friend. She regretted that in seeing the other gal stab her collarbone with a thumb. "I tend to say 'crud' instead of 'crap' whenever I'm not allowed to swear! Crud comes from crude."
Rarity clenched her eyes tightly to the point her face imploded into a central point. Disdain not for the logical illogical inbound—but how it reminded her of a once cherished dragon. Dried wounds that swelled and ached at the faintest emotional touch.
"Since crud and crap sound alike, it means that they mean the same, so crude is a more formal version of crap." Rainbow blinked and rested her chin on her palm and her elbow on the counter before island-stage. "So that means I made a crappy statement. And that Spike has a crappy ding-a-ling."
The fluttering of her eyes matched the take-off of an engine as Rarity's eyes opened in horror.
Please dear. Don't you dare. Not such a statement in public.
"Wait... so does... did you..."
I think I'd rather be taken from back there than deal with this.
"Rainbow." Rarity lifted her head out from her chest, lazy rolls of violet, washing, over the front of her shoulders. She glared at her friend with eyes blackened from a pencil—one she wished she'd sharpened more for various reasons. "Don't you go there. Not here."
Rainbow sat straighter than a soldier and with lips reaching into the back of her throat. Expression crumbling into itself, sweat beginning, in needing to unleash the mental climax of atrociousness.
Holding it back will kill her more.
Than unleashing it would kill me.
And since I'm already dead on the inside.
"Fine... ask it."
Seconds passed.
Then.
"Did Spike ever take you from behind and come out with a crappy rod?"
Rarity smiled. Unknowing why the corners touched her eyes. Walking boys turned and the dancer on the stage stepped from the pole a second sooner than he should. Rainbow turned and, within safe detonation range, absolutely decimated herself in explosive laughter.
Each laugh breaking the highest note of the blaring music and her fist smacking down onto the counter. Drinks and plates clinking as Rarity was forced to grab her glass and hold it down. She shook her head as her friend unleashed. She'd earned a smoke after that.
Rarity reached into the interior of her black and fluffy jacket—like a smooth bear conformed around her—as she dug into a spacious pocket. Out between ivory fingers was the long pipe and a little box.
She set it on her lips and the box on the counter as her friend had slowed in her laughter.
"Ohohoh maaaaaan." Rainbow turned her head for a cough with a hand around. Chest and belly and even the front of her pants. Rarity had leaned forward to fill her pipe, stopping, with an eye on her friend—paused by the peculiarities of a friend. "Had a smoke on me too. Little nice cigar. Can't remember where..."
Rarity blinked from her slouched stance. "Whether it's tucked inside your shirt or lodged down your pants?"
Rainbow leaned all the way down her side and patted down her leg, looking at Rarity as she did so, smiling like no other. "You'll never guess where I keep my wallet."
"It better not be tucked between the things you sit on."
"Wanna check and see if that's today's daily rotation?"
"Are you trying to catch me on my rebound?"
"I'm too classy for you lady." Rainbow winked in pulling a tooth-pick of a cigar from the side of her sock and waving it around as she sat up. "Just think my ass is a national treasure to be checked out by everyone in that nation itself. So how about it? Want to help me look for my lighter?"
Rarity shook her head to a bound of curls dancing over her eyes. "Not if it requires me to be a gynecologist."
"If only you were so lucky."
"I think this is another instance of your misunderstanding of common words."
"You can do everything common to me, doctor."
"Afraid I'll have to write you a referral to someone else."
"Write that note to yourself and score that eight inches on the pole right now."
Rarity had sprinkled the tobacco into the round vault at the end of the pipe in looking up, seeing, to what should have been her delight, the perfect charms in what she loved to see in a man. Two of them on the island before them, each on a pole a couple feet apart, looking down and over to the crowd.
One was strong and the other was slender.
One walked with power and the other with swagger.
One like a beast.
The other like a prince.
The mixture of her fantasies.
Shouldn't I be the one going crazy at this right now? My life has crumbled down, and yet, I'm content in my misery. Rarity looked down at her pipe and could not find the will to light it. To smoke. To do as she should. It's the end to us, once more, after how many years? Our first break-up... now that had truly felt like the end. All the girls. All the male strippers a princess could bribe. All the foul talk...
It wouldn't work this time. Rarity shook her head on that. Once more the world had ended and all was over and everything would cease into a void in the next few. Yet even in this mental state it felt like a fake white flag.
None of the other girls showed up, to the hundredth end to her romantic life, for drinks at the bar.
Except for the captain who just so happened to have an off day.
"But Spike was always a bit of a tool—wasn't he?" Rainbow placed the brown twig on her lips and lit it with a lighter with its origins best left to the unknown. "Always tagging along and doing everything he could to keep close to you." Smoke flared and the inhale came. "Creepy early years like that and it's a wonder you said yes!"
Rainbow blew out the drag after rising in pitch on a drained breath.
And Rarity shifted in her seat. Little twitches that rebelled.
Rebelled at what?
Better not thought about.
"Now you watch your mouth a little on matters that aren't exactly true!" Rarity huffed and sat back as much as she could on the stool. Looking onto the stage was like eating junk food. She wanted it, yet, was already bloated from it. "He had his odd little moments. Yet it all was for goodness! Those little mishaps were a bit more forgivable in knowing the intention behind it."
Rainbow didn't bother looking over. "Whatever you say. Not like he turned into much. Lanky for a dragon." She smiled in filling her mouth enough to puff her cheeks with smoke—then the fog, floated out, via the opening of her lips. "Must have been a dick on a stick with that. Nothing like these guys here. Much having to deal with dragon privates. Smooth and maybe even slimy."
"It was not slimy!"
"Even with all that dragon ooze?"
"Dragon semen! Not much different from normal semen! Maybe even a little better.”
"Noooo waaaaaay."
"Yes way!"
“But he was so weird! Always off the mark with his jokes—plus, he tried too hard."
“Maybe they weren't funny.” Rarity's teeth ground into the pipe to the chips already carved. "But they were entertaining! Always in a battle he and I were! We always had a conversation between us that was delightful."
Rainbow smiled and nudged to the stage. "Spike was a cheap model at best... why not get yourself a real one here?"
"Rainbow... did you forget precisely what kind of a bar you have brought us too?"
"If the bits are high enough..."
"I'm leaving."
"C'mon! The dude broke your heart—right? Let's trash talk enough that his heart would break the same if he heard us." Rainbow turned on her stool while watching her friend sit up from hers. "How small was his thing? How many climaxes did you fake? What's the worst thing you caught him doing?"
Rarity stomped away from the scene but, in closing her eyes in the sudden strike to do right, inhaled deeply and exhaled sharply. She turned in a stomp still, doing the same back to her friend. Her shoulders raised to the ceiling. "Listen. I appreciate all that you have done for me. You have taken some of my pain caused by that scaly rascal."
"Buuuuuut?"
"But merely trash talking him on merit helps me not! I will not fashion lies that are designed to uplift myself?"
"Easily solved! Give me something juicy to mock him for."
Rarity shivered in a fiery heat as an 'oooooh' steaded from her lips. "I'm going outside for some fresh air!"
"Why? The freshest air is inside all smoke."
"Bye!"
"C'mon now!" Rainbow watched as her coated friend dipped into a hallway, followed by the squeak and slam of a door—the sign that all had gone to plan. She returned to sitting forward, resting on her elbows. "I'll make sure to keep that stool of yours warmed with a dancer." She looked up at the current dance. "Hey! You! Yeah! How much would it cost for you to play for both sides for a night?"
A frown was her return.
Rainbow shook her head with a smile. "I never have any luck around here... hehe... I wonder..."
The cold had struck her at once and the closing of her jacket didn't do much to help with the cool winds. The interior of a volcano inside and a frozen tundra the second through the door. Rarity shivered and did up her coat in struggling to step onto the sidewalk.
Regretting wearing that low-cut top that showed off her bust to all that wasn't interested.
"I swear this coat is more for the design than it is for comfort!" Rarity huffed in zipping herself up and waddling up close to the road. Steam wiggled upward from the sewer gratings to a tease of heat—weaker, though similar to the one produced by... "Nothing but baggy and the thinnest of material! Whatever was I thinking! Winter-look without the winter protection! When else would you wear this but in winter... and you can't even do it then."
Rarity bent her head as cars whizzed by on the street ahead. "Pure silliness of me."
There was no getting warm. Even leaning onto the street, into the edge of the steam, became ruined, in every other second, in the strikes of frost locked in a breeze. One car shot a little too close to the sidewalk, a blur and a flashed, one pulled away from, as a hand yanked her back.
"W-Woah!" Rarity stumbled and stuttered with the pipe still in her lips, out of the hand that saved her. It took a second to recover the run-off heartbeat and seconds more to dust herself down. "O-Oh my... aren't I just a klutz today."
There was a pause, in which, she was looking down.
"Don't worry about it madam." That voice. Smooth with a touch of depth and always on the precipice of a joke. It shut her eyes and froze her frame more than the icy breeze. "Oh! You forgot something."
In all the fates that exist, why oh why, does this one have to be mine?
Rarity peeked open an eye to check for an open coast. One seeing to the slender build next to her. It possessed a tightly fitting jacket that clung to him. Tease, through the buttons left undone at the top, to the vest and shirt and tie beneath.
To a foot above to the head of a dragon looking down.
Spike looked down at this chest and, making a fist over his heat, proceeded to pull the metaphorical blade from it. He wiped it on his sleeve, both sides, before holding it out to her. "The dagger. Y'know. The one you forgot you stabbed into me last time."
Rarity smirked in standing tall, regardless of the skin becoming blue from the cold, or the urge to curl into herself for warmth once more. "Oh darling! Is that you! Thank heavens! I'm afraid you left a serious amount of instruments with me the last time we spoke."
Rarity turned around and, reaching at her back, proceeded to pull at the knives stabbed there. She pulled out one and held the invisible object between a thumb and a finger, dangling it—before letting it drop.
"Now you will have to forgive me dear!" Rarity stepped back from his frown, with one of her own, except, it was turned upside down. "It seems like skin is far more sensitive than scales on this issue." She turned around and pointed at her coat. "I'm too weak to get all the little ones. Could you pluck them for me?" She wagged the finger. "And don't forget that one on the ground of course."
Spike rolled his fingers and patted down her coat, and stilted a gasp, not expecting him to follow through. His claw was strong through the large but thin material. Warmed digits, washing across her back, to the sound it produced.
"It's a wonder you're not the hunchback of Canterlot with all of these." Spike stepped back with a nod, sighing, reaching around his jacket for something. "That's all the snow off your coat. Think the passing cars splashed you a bit."
"Thank Celestia they did not stab me."
"How do they hold the knife? Tucked between a tire or pinned underneath the hood?"
"I do not have a response for that and I'm humiliated for it."
"No shame for a stab in the heat but a whole bunch for a comeback." Spike cocked his head at a downward tilt in reaching for the mini-cigar in his pocket. He blew a flame on his thumb, which burned like an emerald candle. "I sure know how to pick 'em... don't I?"
"Do you really want my opinion on this matter?"
He chuckled in covering a claw around his burning thumb; the side-view of his eye tossed over to her. "Eh. Why the heck not."
"Considering I'm the only girl that you've had the fortune—"
"Misfortune."
"—misfortune to..." Rarity glared at him intensely, coughing, before going on. "...to date, then, you have a wonderful taste in women."
"You're biased to say that."
"Not at all! I'm a fabulous choice!" Rarity peeked a hand through the coat, freezing it, all to fan it before her face—bringing on more of the cold. "Just so happens I have horrible taste in males!"
Spike nodded in leaning in the cigar to the fire. "Can say that again. Crazy Rich and Sapphire Highlight and Don the Bon and High Bright and Sky Rise and Buffalo Delight and—well. That list goes on now, don't it?"
Rarity didn't stop glaring at him as her hand retracted back inside the coat.
"Not like me." Spike smirked in lighting the smoke and pulling away the protective claw. "Only girl I had was a fabulous choice—according to an anonymous source." He chuckled. "Perfect track record so far. That means the next girl—"
"You're looking for a next girl cutie?"
Spike froze dead still and his shoulder locked in a hunch. He stepped back and looked left, clearing the way for Rarity's view, allowing her to see the sweetie in pink. Slender in all the ways she wasn't with a cute outfit that spoke youthful delight.
Unlike the aged and mature look of Rarity.
"What's that with your claw? You can light that on fire? That's soooo cool!” The girl strolled right up to the dragon, both gloved hands, up to the fame, enjoying the candle heat. "And warm too!" Her white smile radiated in looking up at him. "You must be Spike! The friendly dragon! Think I saw you back inside with that other lady."
Bolts of shock froze the woman. Rarity eyes flying wide with a heart deciding on stopping. Hushed breath like dense breaks floating out through her lips. Skin rendered even more sensitive as the heat prickling beneath it, froze over, from the next breeze.
He... he already found someone? And so soon? But usually... usually he's supposed to... we're supposed to... Had the constant break-ups killed what was there? That splitting apart no matter meant anything? There was supposed to be some pain, even if dwindled, and yet, none seemed on him. Do I not disturb him anymore? No caught feelings? I-I haven't even thought of finding someone else yet.
Rarity's back, shoulder, head and gaze dropped. Mouth opened and unable to shut. She debated turning around. Leaving. Needing to be alone with this immense sadness in fear of exposing it to another.
"O-Oh her? That's Applejack." Midway through that turned, she stopped, looking back to the dragon. His eye had been on her but, as soon as she looked back, his gaze flicked away. "Figured she'd cheer me up after a bad break-up by bringing me here."
"To a lesbian strip club? That's kinda odd if she's trying to hook you back up!" The girl laughed with a breath that was fresh and even the warmth of her essence wafted over to Rarity; another warm source, one hooking its arms around one of Spike's... while she stood afar... being cold. "But don't you worry! I just so happen to go both ways... a-and..." she turned her head, blushing, bringing fingers over her lips. "...and wouldn't mind going all the ways with you."
Spike's mouth was open and any sense of form was lost to him. No jokes or wisecracks or even sweeping the lady off her feet. He was stunned in not expecting this. Not knowing what to do with it. Never having anything close to this beyond the limitations he had with Rarity.
"I-I... well... there's something smooth I can say here..." His eyes kept blinking as he struggled for something. "It's coming here in a second now. This bit right now isn't helping me. But I... I'm..."
"I'm afraid he's not available at the moment little hussie!" Rarity bolted forward in a controlled strut, leaning onto the dragon to delicately peel the hands on his arms, peeking inside the opening of his jacket—seeing her hidden symbol inside of it. "The vultures you younger ladies are! No respect for a dragon off from a break-up! He's in no right mind to make a good choice right now."
And he's wearing that special jacket I made for him, still, instead of burning it.
The girl pouted in being pried from the boy, shaking her head, leaning up on her toes to be close to his face. "Hmmmmm? Is that so, mister dragon? Would you not want to be with me? Would you only take me on a rebound?"
Spike blinked with a mouth open and that kid of so long ago rushed to the surface. "I would... would... could... bould... fold... nold..."
Will to be so easily broken in by any other lady! Was I not special to him in being the only one that could do that!?
"Shoo with you now! Get! Find yourself another mark!" Rarity crashed her hand on the burning thumb, a scorching that drilled into her palm, a tearing into her expression from the pain. Yet she kept on. "C'mon now! Take your perfectness in another direction!"
The girl pouted once more and, in looking at the boy with no view of being saved, she shrugged, turning around and walking away, twisting her hips like so, hands clasping behind them, to a picture of delight going so far away.
Spike was shaking his head and watching her leave. "Oh Rarity. You're not even in my life anymore and you're still ruining any chance I have to with the opposite sex." His head turned back to see her palm still on his claw, lower on it, clenched to deal with the pain. "Oh Rarity! Rarityyy."
His other claw rose to her palm, touching at the side of it, trying to peel it.
She clenched tighter.
"C'mon now. Let me see it. You might have burned yourself pretty bad."
Rarity chuckled with a roll of the eyes that ended in looking up at him. "Easy to do on you."
"Remind me to charge you a bit for every bit you steal from me." He blinked in being able to pry the palm, which curled inward from the lack of pressure—and a cold breeze on a burn. "Oh no. Look at this! Perfection like you shouldn't be doing this to yourself."
"Perfection huh?"
"Look at how nice and delicate your hand is! Don't ruin that with a burn mark—why the heck did you even do that in the first place?! Might have been the only other lady I could have gotten to say 'yes' after you."
Foolish boy. If prettiness like that is willing to start the initiative on the street, then that means...
"Hold it now! Where do you think you're taking that hand?"
Spike rolled his eyes and groaned in reaching them down to the snow. He grabbed a ball with his other claw, warming it a touch before bringing it over. "This should help with the burn. It's warmed a little. You don't need to keep it on for long."
"Haven't you already made me cold enough."
"Not my fault you burned yourself for whatever reason."
"You were talking to a girl!"
"Should I stab myself on your horn if you talk to a boy?"
"Closest you would come to caring."
“I cared.”
"Past tense!"
"Past, present, future and whatever! Care cared and will care! We may not be an item—but you're still my friend!"
"What happened to the friendship being off?"
"You proposed it!"
"And you agreed to it!"
Rarity growled in raising up on her heels to push her snout into his, soft into smooth, the two pushing into the other—needing the contact. To drive into hardness, grind against it, to have the feeling, intimacy, of another.
She grabbed the snowball in his claw, clenching on it, not caring for the shock of coldness.
"Always talking to our friends behind my back about our issues! Issues that I didn't even know were issues! How dare you tell Applejack you worried my latest trip with Snowy Falls?"
Spike blinked and exhaled steam. It floated down her neck and washed across her collarbone. It burned some of her frost, warmth for a second, cold to warm, in and out, as the dragon breathed. "Because you two were holding hands! You kissed him on the cheek for that magazine!"
"I told you that was purely for the sake of making a splash for the show!"
"And I... I... I wasn't sure how to feel about that!"
"Oh oh! So you think I was lying then! Then I was lying in his bed, with the sheets all messy, manes frazzled, every day of that trip?" Rarity laughed with a density of a matter not often produced. "That I would sleep with him before writing you a letter. Is that the girl you take me for? Have you taken all my trips to be sleeping around with whomever I wish!"
Spike's eyes narrowed in defeat and they dipped down.
"...of course not."
"So why that feeling! Why the need to—"
"Because Applejack told me the exact same thing! That I wasn't sure how to approach you about my feelings because you weren't there! You brushed them off, acted like they weren't much, and I... I didn't know how to approach you about them!"
Rarity lost whatever her next line was.
"I was feeling something... and I didn't know what it was! You were gone longer and we didn't talk the same." He sighed and sighed and couldn't bear to break away. "I needed the friend in girlfriend and it wasn't there. So I went to Applejack. I told her about what I felt."
"Tch." Rarity shook her head and, due to the connection of snouts, he did the same. "Talking behind my back."
"See! You're jumping on me right there! I didn't do it to talk behind your back!" Spike took a second to breath, eyes closing, wanting to choose what he said. Not to construed lies, but to choose the words to best reflect the truth. But so easily that could be accused. "I just needed someone to talk to! Someone about you! Why do you think I choose Applejack?"
"I... don't know, to be honest with you."
"Out of all the girls I could have gone to—who would have given me the hardest truth? She helped me figure out what my problem was."
"And just what was it?"
"That I... I... that I just didn't feel close to you." Spike's shoulders dropped and his chest deflated and he actually stepped away from her. Once more the girl was in the cold. And her hand was freezing in the melting of snow. "I never suspected you of cheating. Don't even care if you got close to another guy—because I was so sure of what you and I had."
He blinked and turned away his head. "But... it just... s-sucked. Seeing you on a cover of a magazine kissing the cheek of another guy. Hearing about it on the farm and the issues at the front of stores." And he breathed. "I'm not the one strolling you out on the stage. I'm not the one getting a goofy expression because you kissed me on the cheek. It's the lack of all of that... that... that I felt that way."
Rarity looked down as well at her hand. Shaking her head in seeing the melting snow. The mark of burn, faded, on her palm. "You don't get to pull this. Not you and not now." Rarity clasped her hands together, but instead of spreading the heat, her other hand endured the cold. "You didn't write to me. You never told me any of this. M-Maybe that was because I... I was holding you in accusation and that made you defensive... but... but you're not the victim in this.'
Rarity continued shaking her head. "You never talked to me. I'd come home to you already in bed and your back turned to me. I tried to pry the truth. Set things to do. You never wanted to do them. Never in the mood for a date."
Her head kept on shaking and soon the rage was emerging.
"How dare you! How dare you lay that on me now! What are you even doing here anyway? At the strip club next to mine! You can never keep away! Somehow, every time, we keep finding each other like this!"
Spike didn't say anything but kept looking down.
"You were the one that wanted to keep helping Twilight behind the scenes, to assist on the farm if need be." Rarity cleared her throat. "Going to Fluttershy in the middle of the night because of an accident with a critter or a problem in the Everfree. Those late-night training and drinking sessions with Dash. Didn't I ever throw you an accusation when you came home, drunk, smelling of mare—and wanting to sleep with me?"
Spike's eyes clenched and, even though this was not the time for it, he started to smile. "I-In my defence, a-as horrible as it sounds, t-the fact that I wanted to sleep with you... kinda means... means..."
Rarity clenched her eyes and, even though this was not the time for it, she started to smile. "...yes. Yes yes oh how I hate it yes. How is that! How is it a dragon, with an expedited to near non-existent refractoryperiod! That! That..."
"Longer session to a more powerful eruption."
Rarity's lips pushed together. Needing to grind to hold back the eruption of her own. Yet the dams failed and the laughter poured. Sweet little giggles, genuine and thus not refined—an honest breaking in the amour. He could sweep a breeze into her, making the girl feel alive, not having to voice practised words or laughs.
"You're horrible... horrendous!" Rarity wrapped a hand around her stomach in her laughing, stopping to wince—catching his attention. "Tch. O-Oh. There goes yet another good thing."
"Hold up now." Spike stepped closer this time and held out his arm. "I can do another good thing you like."
But Rarity was shaking her head. "Oh no. You're not convincing me to get close to you. I don't love you anymore."
"C'moooon." Spike undid the buttons to his jacket, which opened a space for her, with something within his frame beginning. He blew smoke out from the corner of his lips which rolled the cigar aside. Cooking fire in his chest to heat his frame—a walking furnace as Rarity liked to call it. "You don't have to love me to love a thing that I do. Promise to whisper plenty of things to make you hate me into your ear if you do."
Rarity was powerless except to step forward, needing the heat, the warmth, the contact of another.
"Oh my! Rarity? Is that you, dashing girl? The extravagance of your outfit!" Rarity turned around to the one behind, a taller chap with swept-back hair, feeling like a pilot was before her. "Indeed it is! So good to see you again! High and refined as ever."
He knelt and held out a hand. Rarity blinked in holding it out on command. He took it and she winced. Grabbing the burn without knowing or realizing the twitch in the woman. He kissed her hand, something not felt: due to the frozen nerves.
"Oh my! Where are your gloves? Do you not have any?" Who was he? Rarity blinked in searching for a name that was familiar to the face. Nothing turned up. Though his reaching into his coat for gloves was a kind act. "I have some for a lady like yourself! Designed by me of course. Special pair that you can—"
"Only special pair you're going to get is the left claw and the right claw!" There was a blurring of purple until the dragon's side was in front of her, which blocked the gentleman. She opened her mouth to speak to the production of zero words. "Royal Guard or Airborne Wonderbolts?"
"My! I-I would never! Who are you? To suddenly butt in on a gentleman on the lady—"
"Don't make me call for backup now! I've got two feet in covert and special ops and a tail trained in sword to sword battle."
"Like a dragon could fence!"
"But he's got fangs that can do a whole bunch more than that!"
"Hmmph! You dare keep a lady in the cold then? Typical dragon."
"Dragons aren't even typical! In fact I'm atypical! I'd rather be tropical to be honest with you."
"You're like the rest—just different about it."
Spike went back and tucked the lady into his side, dressing her underneath the opening in his coat, bringing his claws to her hands. Holding them, softly, and trapping them between his joined palms. He was double her size. The bed of scales comforted her. The largeness should have been scary, but instead, it served only to protect.
They blocked the cold and, on the inside, radiated heat.
His face curled above with a soft smile, a sincere expression, seeing if she was okay. Rarity cuddled more into him, a sign enough, and his growl returned to the other male. "So what division of troops am I sending in?"
The gentleman brushed himself off, turned around, and shook his head. "Expect to hear about this?"
Spike's head recoiled. "Hear about this? Why would I need to hear if I was there for it?"
Silence.
"Spike?"
And tittered out from and looked down to the girl inside his coat. "Y-Yeah?"
"You're supposed to be saying things to make me hate you," Rarity drew on a breath to aid the trouble of saying what came next, "and not causing me to feel the reverse."
Spike smiled. The kind, tired, yet comforting. His arm rested on her shoulders, drawing her against his side, the two not minding the intimacy. Suddenly pressed into him—without an inch to spare. Pinned into the dragon she was supposed to be showing she would be better off without.
"Don't you worry." He stepped back and forth, rocking her against him, another layer of comfort he knew... she enjoyed. "Just being myself is enough to cause you to hate me. What numbered break up is this? What was even the reason this time?"
Rarity blinked. "T-Too many to count. And that magazine break-up... was three break-ups ago."
Spike breathed heavily, his chest shooting in and out, the rise and dip, missed. Rarity did the same. Snuggling more into him. Laying her head on his chest, feeling the tease of a heartbeat. Cocoon of warmth. Of contact. Another all around her.
"Seems like we always take it to the extreme—don't we? Getting into a fight, escalating it to break up... hating the other... hating yourself... all just to do it again weeks later."
Rarity hummed. "No wonder the apathy from our friends."
"Yeah."
The two stepped together, on the street, just friends, without words.
"Hey Spike?"
"Yes my ex?"
"What was going to be your plan for hating me this time?"
"I... I can't even remember at this point." Spike breathed and he breathed and the girl on his chest rode out the rises and dips. Her contact helped him through it. She was the one he needed to be the most on the defence from, and yet... "There were so many things. Hate you for this and that. How could you do so and so."
His shoulders dropped. "Then there was going to be the hate of how much more fun you could have without me. The more open world." There was a sound, not a groan, but a production of emotional pain. "You were an evil woman in my head, to everything terrible, that I would never speak or apologize too... until I saw you standing out here."
"And then?"
"And then all my terrible feelings washed away at seeing you."
"Funny how they do that—I was feeling just the same."
Spike smiled, and so, did she.
"When I know you well," he started.
"I love you so much," she finished.
"And when I don't know you," she started.
"Then I hate the idea of you."
Soon they started to turn, still step to step, a little dance on the sidewalk.
"I don't know why I want to hurt you so much." Rarity didn't know she had said that until it floated out. "I want to say everything I know that will hurt and find a guy that will prove all your insecurities real." She glanced down. "And I did that... enjoying it... until I saw how much it hurt you."
Spike nodded and he nodded and he could not do anything else. "And I want to talk terribly about you to everyone. Every silly point, slashed at, and just... I-I don't know." His lips opened enough for his cigar to drop from his mouth. "I'm always so hurt on the surface on what you say and do. Always breaking it down and using it against you. Yet... yet I never consider why you would do any of that in the first place."
"Because I'm terrible."
"We're all terrible." Spike did his best to smile through exhaustion, the two swinging their hips, to the same sway, to the same turning step. "Just some are terrible for better reasons. Or maybe they wouldn't be terrible if they didn't have so many reasons to be so."
"Spike?"
"Yes?"
"It hurt me when you said I was your ex."
"And I only said it because I was worried you were going to use it first."
"You think I would?"
"If given a terrible enough reason—different kind of meaning to terrible."
"I supposed I did so before."
"But that didn't mean you would now."
"Always so aggressive to be the other to the next punch, so it is not used on us—and yet, all we do is beat up the one we love."
"Guess I really do suck at making you hate me."
"Never have I heard that statement as a flaw."
"Rarity?"
"Yes... my prince?"
"I'm worried you and I are going to do something silly, and we'll be close again, then something will happen, and then we'll hate each other." Spike shook his head as the two danced. "I don't think there's any breaking that cycle. This heightened feeling... it'll fade, won't it?"
"Indeed it will." Rarity pulled from his chest with her pipe, somehow, still tucked in the corner of her lips. "Soon you'll be spread over helping our friends and town and soon I will be forced to fly out again. We'll pick an issue and use it to blow up issues from the past. Then we'll do this awful dance again."
"Has my footing gotten worse?"
"Not at all." Rarity knew it was foolish, and yet, pushed her face into him again. His arm tightened around her. "I mean that other dance. This one is lovely. You are the only boy, the only one, Spike, that after a break-up... I still want to dance like this with."
Spike chuckled. "You blowing up that issue at that ball?"
"Heavens no." She rubbed her snout into him, missing him, missing all of this. Anger and hatred and whatever before was no more. Those previous reasons would come back of course. But it was always this she wanted. To be like this with him. "Told you to procure those tickets months ago! Stuffed us right at the door in my best dress."
"I'm sorry about—"
"And then you found that park on the hill, with that beautiful view of the moon, you and I and whatever whisper of music we could hear." Rarity laughed. "My dress caught with grass and was a filth."
"Again I'm—"
"And I would have gladly ruined it further." Rarity hummed. "I heard from others that establishment was overly packed, stuffy, and the air was composed of someone else's breath."
"I... uh... I actually did blow smoke into your mouth on that kiss."
"The one where you bent me back, in the wash of moonlight, where, even after that, I simply blew the smoke back into your face."
"I-Is that how it went? I thought you coughed!"
"I did cough afterward! But I acquired a few moments of smoothness."
"Smoothness? Only I say stuff like that!"
"Oh quiet you beast." She shook her head. "How terrible you've changed me."
"And wonderfully you changed me."
Those passing on the streets took notice of the couple, but they, not of them, caught in the world formed by the other. Soon they came to a stop dancing. Pulling away enough to look into each other.
"Spike?"
"Yes... my princess?"
"No matter what I might say to you... I do love you... even though I shouldn't." She inched up on her feet and closed onto his chin. "No matter the fight. Whatever the extent. Find me again. Allow me a moment to calm. I promise, if we're like this, I can confess all the things I shouldn't."
"You stole my line because all of the above is my crime." He looked down with a smile, their eye-contact, broken, for a second. "I miss when you would visit me on the farm with drinks or be with me when I'm doing Twilight's papers."
"And I miss that little dragon that was always there, in those long hours of silence, when I'm drafting or stitching." Rarity pulled her burnt hand out from his claw, using her fingers to push up on his ching—returning his face to hers. "You allowed me to be by myself without being alone. And I wish you would be in the crowd of my shows. Or walk that stage with me again."
Spike smiled. "Will I get a kiss on the cheek if I do?"
"Allow me to give you more than that now as insurance."
Rarity leaned in and so did he, their lips coming close, scales and fur, smooth and soft—the rod of the pipe, first, smacking his cheek. She pulled back with a giggle and looked away. "O-Oh dear." She laughed. "Forgot about that. S-Say? Would you light it? Your fire always has the taste of you."
Spike smiled and turned, spitting fire onto his index, which he dunked into the end of the pipe. It let and she inhaled and, in pulling it away, Rarity dashed for his lips. Kissing them and exhaling. The dragon's shoulders dropped, his being set at collapse, as smoke blew from his snout, swirling, of course, into the shapes of hearts.
"Whoa now!" Rainbow's voice shouted from behind her shoulder, and Applejack, pulling the glass from her lips, saw over it. The blue friend strolled over, taking a seat on the stool next to her—the one previously left for a dragon. "I seriously think you got the better deal out of this."
Applejack blinked. "Spike? When did you turn into the colour of the sky and become a girl while you were at it."
"You kidding?" Rainbow pinched at her own skin. “This is just a disguise.”
"Oooh." Applejack smirked. "Is that what is it now?"
Rainbow smiled back. "Absolutely."
Both picked up a glass, sitting side by side, clinking the glasses.
And drinking.
"Ahhh! Ooooh! Spike's into the sweet stuff!"
"Makes me wonder why the boy didn't go for the sweetie I paid for."
Rainbow nodded and looked over. "Oh yeah! I was going to ask you about that." She cocked her head. "She was a dangerous one. You went a little too far with that."
Applejack giggled. "Only a little." She tapped a finger on the counter and, behind it, the bartender came. He came and, at her pointing at the glass, he refilled it. "Wanted to be sure we weren't wasting our time."
"Hard to do at a strip joint."
"If Spike went for that cute little thing, then... yeah." She nodded to the tender and picked up the glass. "It's done between those two. Actually this time. And it was our meddlin' that was keeping a broken thing together."
"Yet he didn't even have to turn her down."
"Rarity's protective of her boy."
"You kiddin'? Spike nearly fought the guy I paid?"
"Oh yeah! How'd that go?"
"Certainly proved to Rarity he cared about her a whole bunch—probably... didn't help I got the guy that Rarity had smooched before."
"How long till that clicks for her."
"Give it to her next shower."
Silence for a moment as the two took another shot from their drinks.
And then.
"I don't think we'll be able to save it next time," Applejack said."
"This was the last setting I could think to have 'fate' and jazz have them meet."
Applejack looked at Rainbow. "They don't think too deeply—do they?"
"Pfft! Course not." Rainbow continued to snicker. "Ah yes! Screw that other person! Let's get you a rebound in the one place where only boys score boys and girls score girls." She slapped her leg. "Good thinking on the setting this time. Too easy for those two to make a mistake."
"Yeah... yeah."
The two sighed.
"Think it will work out this time?"
"Doubtful."
"Think it will keep working out?"
Chuckles from both.
"Probably."
