Spike Steals Rarity's Lipstick
Echoing hoofsteps in the corridor broke the silence of Twilight’s library. She looked up from the thick volume she’d been perusing—an exhaustive collection of particularly esoteric poetry—and wondered who had just come in. It had to be one of her friends, she reasoned; she hadn’t heard a knock, and only somepony very close to her would feel comfortable just walking in.
Soon enough, she had her answer.
“Twilight?” a lilting, posh voice called. “Spike? Starlight Glimmer? Anypony home?”
“In the library, Rarity,” Twilight answered. “I’ll be right out.”
She marked her place, stood, and strode to the door. She opened it and was face-to-face with Rarity. Though Twilight greeted her friend with a smile, she couldn’t help noticing that Rarity’s face looked tense.
“Hello,” Rarity said.
“Hi,” said Twilight. “What brings you by? Is something wrong?”
“Nothing serious,” said Rarity. “There is, however, a matter I would like to discuss with you, and with Spike, if he’s here. It’s a subject of some delicacy.”
Twilight gave a subtle, serious nod. “Okay. I’m guessing this might be awkward at first, but we’re all friends, and we can handle this maturely.”
“I agree.” Rarity blinked, her impeccably mascaraed lashes fluttering. “Is Spike here, then?”
Again, Twilight nodded. “He’s up in his room. He’s been so quiet, I think he might be napping, but we can wake him up if it’s important.”
“Well,” Rarity said, “I’ll admit that the situation is not life-or-death, but it is important to me.”
“Then let’s go wake him. He’ll be up all night if I let him sleep the day away, anyway.”
They set off in the direction of Spike’s bedroom, and because the castle was so spacious, this walk took them a few minutes. Twilight shortly tired of listening to their hooves clicking on the stone floors and allowed her curiosity to take over.
“Rarity,” she said, “you were being pretty vague before. Do you mind if I ask what exactly the matter is, and what it has to do with Spike and me?”
“Of course, dear,” Rarity said. “Actually, if I’m perfectly honest, it has very little to do with you. You are mostly just caught in the middle. However, I may need your help when we talk to Spike, so I suppose it cannot hurt to prepare you for what we’re talking about.”
She took a deep breath and went on, “This morning, as I was getting ready for the day, I sat down to do my makeup like always. And at first, everything went swimmingly—concealer, primer, foundation, powder, eye shadow and mascara. All applied without a hitch. It was only when I went to apply the finishing touch, my lipstick, that I noticed something wrong.”
“Which was?”
“One of my lipsticks was missing.”
Twilight gawked at her. “And you think Spike took it?”
“I’m not accusing him of anything just yet,” Rarity said. “In fact, I have a very hard time believing he’d ever steal anything from me. But I can’t rule out the possibility.”
“Well what if you lost it?” said Twilight.
“Twilight,” said Rarity, “surely you don’t think I’d come all the way over here without first checking high and low? I spent the better part of four hours this morning, turning the boutique upside down. Anywhere a tube of lipstick could have been misplaced has been checked. I am many things, but I am not a mare to suspect theft when simple forgetfulness is more likely.”
“Okay,” said Twilight. “I didn’t mean any offense.”
Rarity took a calming breath. “I know, Twilight. I suppose I’m a bit on edge because I don’t want to believe that somepony close to me is capable of stealing.”
“I understand,” said Twilight. “What did you do when you were done searching?”
“I began to rack my brains. I thought back to the last time I definitely recall seeing the missing lipstick, which was roughly two weeks ago.”
“That long?” Twilight said.
“Well, it is a very bold red color. Lovely, but a bit extravagant for everyday wear. So it’s not a lipstick I look at and consider every morning. Today I just happened to notice the empty space on my vanity where it had been sitting. And in between the last time I recall seeing it, and today when I missed it, I can only think of two creatures who have been in my room, close enough to my vanity to have taken the lipstick.”
“I assume one is Spike,” said Twilight. “Who else?”
“Sweetie Belle,” Rarity said, “and with her, shall we say, mixed record of respecting my belongings, I talked to her first.”
“She denied it?”
“That she did,” said Rarity, “and what’s more, I believed her. When you’ve known somepony her whole life, it becomes very easy to tell when she’s hiding something. Sweetie Belle wasn’t hiding anything.”
“Which only leaves Spike,” Twilight said.
“Indeed,” said Rarity. “And if he doesn’t have it, I am truly baffled. I suppose there’s a slim chance that Opal took it and hid it from me, but she’s never done anything like that before. And besides, I would have come across it while I was searching.”
“I would think so,” Twilight agreed. “I don’t want to think about Spike stealing from you, either, but the evidence certainly isn’t in his favor.”
They fell silent then, because they had reached Spike’s bedroom. The door was closed, and no sound came from behind it. Perhaps he wasn’t asleep, after all, Twilight thought. If he had been asleep, she felt certain they would have heard his snores by now. She raised a hoof and knocked.
“Yeah?” came Spike’s voice, and Twilight noted the lack of grogginess.
“Hey, Spike, Rarity’s with me. Can we come in?”
“Um... just a minute,” he said.
As they stood and waited for him to open up, Rarity caught Twilight’s eye with an inquisitive gesture.
“He’s been liking his privacy more and more lately,” Twilight said in a low voice. “Just part of him getting older, I guess.”
Rarity nodded, although she still tossed her mane restlessly.
After roughly ninety seconds, the door opened and Spike stood before them. Twilight didn’t know if it was just because Rarity had primed her to look for signs of guilt, but she could have sworn that Spike had the hint of a flush coloring his cheeks. The flush of someone who had almost been caught doing something he’s ashamed of? Maybe.
Just maybe.
“Hey, girls. What’s up?”
“There’s something we need to talk to you about, Spike,” Twilight said. “We’d better come in.”
“Sure,” he said, and stood aside.
Twilight and Rarity walked in and seated themselves on the bedroom floor near the bed. Spike, meanwhile, dashed over to his bed and sat down upon it. Twilight could tell that he had tried to make it look as casual as possible, but there was no mistaking the anxious speed with which he had rushed over. Perhaps he didn’t want Twilight or Rarity to try and sit on his bed. Maybe, Twilight speculated, there was something small and cylindrical hidden in his sheets that he was afraid they might feel.
Or maybe Twilight was getting ahead of herself. Either way, his behavior was getting more and more curious.
He stared at them for a minute from where he sat atop his quilt. Twilight saw him fidgeting. It was subtle, but you didn’t raise a dragon from an egg without picking up the nuances of his body language.
In another moment, he said, “So what’s going on?”
Rarity took the initiative. “Spike, darling, I noticed this morning that one of my tubes of lipstick had gone missing. Now, it pains me to accuse you of anything, but I looked all over my house today and still couldn’t find it. And I seem to recall you standing near my vanity for several minutes when you helped me bring in my shopping the other day. So I ask you: do you know anything about my missing lipstick?”
“N-no,” he said.
But Twilight’s mind couldn’t help but zero in on that stutter, and the way he couldn’t quite meet Rarity’s eyes. Now she was sure that Spike was hiding something.
“Spike,” she said sternly. “Please don’t lie to us.” She fixed him with her most authoritative glare.
He looked even more uncomfortable, but remained defiant. “I’m not,” he said. “I really don’t know.”
“I don’t believe that for a second,” said Twilight.
“Dear, you’re not in trouble,” Rarity jumped in. “I simply want to know what happened to my lipstick.”
“No,” Twilight said, “you’re not in trouble. But if you keep telling lies, you might be.”
“I’m not lying, though,” he said. He looked to Rarity in appeal. “Do you believe me at least?”
“I don’t know,” she said. “Certainly, I want to believe you, but even I can tell that you’re acting shifty, Spike.”
He hung his head, his last hope of having an ally dashed. The room was silent for a few moments, all three of them feeling as though the conversation had reached an impasse.
That was, until Twilight started looking around. Her gaze happened to land on Spike’s wastebasket, and she noticed something peeking out of the top of it. The object in question looked to be made of paper, and was bright white. Except for the telltale smears of crimson.
Without giving Spike (or Rarity, for that matter) a chance to react, Twilight lit her horn and grabbed the tissue from the top of the trash. The others’ eyes followed the glow of her magic. Rarity wore a look that was equal parts curiosity, dawning comprehension, and disappointment. Spike wore a look of growing shame.
Twilight spread open the tissue so the red, waxy smears were visible to everyone. “What’s this, then, Spike?” she said flatly.
“Would you believe I had a nosebleed today?” he said.
Both mares looked at him skeptically. Twilight said, “No, I wouldn’t. If you think you can convince me this is blood, you must think very little of my intelligence.”
“I wish you would tell us the truth, Spikey-Wikey,” said Rarity.
He cast his eyes down again and sighed. In a moment, one claw crept to his pillow, slipped inside the case, and brought out a small tube which he held out to Rarity. If Twilight had thought he was blushing when they first came in, it was nothing to how he looked now; his whole complexion had gone pink.
As Rarity took the lipstick in her magic, Spike murmured, “I’m sorry. For taking it, and for lying.”
Rarity took a deep breath and said, “It’s quite alright, Spike. I just thought you had more respect for me and my things.”
He looked up at her, wounded. “I do, Rarity. I have nothing but respect for you. I—”
Twilight gently placed a hoof over his mouth to stop him. “Spike,” she said, “if you respect Rarity so much, why would you take something of hers without asking?”
She pulled her hoof away, but he didn’t speak for several long moments. He looked back and forth between the two mares, his mouth working fruitlessly as he tried to express what had driven him to such foolish (and it had been foolish; he could see that now) behavior.
He at last gave an answer that he knew wouldn’t be satisfactory, but which seemed better than nothing.
“I don’t know,” he said. “I wasn’t thinking.”
“I don’t think that’s entirely true, Spike,” Twilight said. “I’ll agree you weren’t thinking, but you do know why you did this. I think you just don’t want to tell us.”
Again, Spike was left to gaze from one mare to the other, feeling helpless. All his spit seemed to dry up, and his tongue glued itself to the roof of his mouth, letting him know it had no intention of helping him speak. Because the thing was, Twilight was right; he did know exactly why he had taken Rarity’s lipstick. He just didn’t know if he could bring himself to say the reason out loud. It was something he had only just started to admit to himself, and letting two more ponies into the secret felt like too tall of an order just now. So he sat there dumbly.
“Spike.” Rarity reached out and laid a hoof on his shoulder. “You can tell us. Whatever it is, I’m sure we’ll be able to work through it.”
“Is it... is it a dragon greed thing?” Twilight asked hesitantly.
Spike shook his head.
“Are you sure?” Twilight persisted. “Because last time you started taking things that weren’t yours... well, we all remember how bad it got. I’m not upset if this is a greed thing, Spike, but I need you to tell me so I can help you.”
“You guys, I swear that’s not what this is,” Spike said.
“Then what precisely is it, darling?” said Rarity.
Spike deliberated with himself for a moment, then took a deep breath and clenched his fists. “I’ll tell you,” he said, “but you can’t laugh.”
“We would never,” said Rarity.
He sized them up. “Pinkie Promise?”
Twilight and Rarity shot each other a grin, then chanted in unison, “Cross my heart, hope to fly, stick a cupcake in my eye.” Each mare also made the sacred oath’s obligatory motions, of course.
Twilight then turned to Spike. “Well?” she said. “That’s our part of the bargain. Now you do yours.”
Spike gulped and said, “The reason I took your lipstick, Rarity, is that I wanted to wear it. And I wanted to wear it because... because I’m not really sure I’m a boy.”
For what seemed—to Spike, at least—an eternal moment, the two mares only looked back at him. Then Twilight said, “Okay, Spike. I Pinkie Promised I wouldn’t make fun of you, but I do want to see if I can understand you better. How can you be not sure you’re a boy?”
Spike sighed. “It’s hard to put into words, but like... I know ponies see me as a boy, and they treat me like a boy, and I guess that’s okay, but lately I started to realize that that’s not how I see myself. If I try thinking to myself, ‘I’m a boy,’ it just feels wrong. I don’t know if that makes any sense, but...” He trailed off, looking a question at Twilight and Rarity.
It was Rarity who answered first. “Spike,” she said, “I must confess that this all seems a bit beyond me. I am a girl, I see myself as a girl, I show the world that I’m a girl, and I thoroughly enjoy when ponies treat me like a girl. So the things you are talking about feel almost impossible for me to understand.”
Spike, already feeling vulnerable and fragile after his confession, felt himself wilt. He had hoped to be able to make them understand, but it was all such a confused mess of a feeling. Of course he had messed up trying to express it.
But that was when Rarity said more.
“However,” she continued, “I don’t have to understand something to know that it’s real. Twilight casts all sorts of spells that I’ll never understand, but that doesn’t make the magic any less real.” She stepped forward and pulled him into a hug. “And your feelings are just like that magic, Spike. You’ll always be one of my dearest friends, and that will not change just because you’re not a boy.”
Spike allowed himself to melt into Rarity for just a moment. He absorbed her warmth, inhaled the scent of her perfume, and basked in the intoxicating feeling of relief. He hadn’t realized until just this moment how scared he’d been of Rarity thinking he was confused, delusional, or just plain weird. But she didn’t, and that knowledge felt like a ton of weight sliding off his back at once.
But there was another mare in the room.
“Twilight?” he said, breaking the embrace with Rarity. “What do you think?”
“I think,” Twilight said, “that I agree with Rarity. I may not fully comprehend what you’re going through, but that doesn’t mean I don’t believe you. After all, you know yourself better than we ever could. If you say you’re not a boy, then you’re not a boy.”
Another wave of relief washed over Spike, though this one was not as overwhelming as the first. Rarity had been his primary worry, and once she had expressed her support, he’d had every expectation of Twilight doing the same. Still, it felt nice to hear it from both of them. He had been so afraid that telling his friends he wasn’t a boy would alter their relationship somehow, but thankfully, that hadn’t happened. He still felt the same love and affection coming from Twilight and Rarity as ever, and that was the biggest relief of all.
“Thank you both,” he said. “It... it kind of feels nice not to hide this anymore.”
“Any time, Spike,” said Twilight.
“You know we’re always here,” said Rarity.
“I do have one more question, though,” said Twilight.
“Ask away,” said Spike.
“If you’re not a boy, does that mean you’re a girl?”
Spike was silent for a moment, then said, “I don’t think so. I’ve never thought of myself as a girl before, and I don’t think it feels quite right, either. I’m somewhere between boy and girl, I think.”
“And I assume you wanted my lipstick so you could try doing something more girly,” said Rarity. “Is that correct?”
He nodded.
“But Spike, you could have asked me,” Rarity said. “You know I would have given you one of my lipsticks, or bought you your own. You didn’t have to go pilfering.”
“I know,” said Spike.
“And besides,” Twilight added, “did you really think Rarity wouldn’t miss her makeup? This is Rarity we’re talking about.”
“I know it wasn’t my smartest move,” Spike said, “but I wasn’t sure I was ready to talk to anypony about this. I wanted makeup to see how I felt wearing it—and I gotta admit, it felt pretty good—and taking some seemed like the best way to get it without having to talk about not feeling like a boy.”
“I can only say that your plan backfired, Spike,” said Rarity.
“I know it did,” he said, “but I guess it all worked out for the best. Like I said, it feels kind of nice to let somepony know this about me.”
“I’m glad for that,” said Rarity. Then she used her magic to float the lipstick back over to him. “And you can keep this, by the way.”
He looked at her, wide-eyed. “Thank you.”
“Um... Rarity?” Twilight said. “I know I can’t tell you what to do with your own things, but Spike won’t really learn his lesson if he just gets the thing he stole off of you anyway.”
“With all due respect, Twilight,” said Rarity, “I think Spike knows that stealing is wrong. Don’t you, Spike?”
He nodded.
“He only resorted to stealing,” Rarity went on, “because he was keeping a secret. But now that we know the secret, he has no more reason to steal. Right, Spike?”
“Right.”
“Well... okay,” said Twilight. “I guess it wouldn’t be exactly fair to punish you for this. But don’t expect me to be this lenient if I catch you taking things that aren’t yours again. Got me?”
“Got you,” said Spike.
The trio lapsed into silence for a few moments. Then a thought struck Rarity.
“Oh, Spike,” she said, “there is something I want to make sure of. Since you’re not a boy, do you still want us to refer to you using ‘he’ or ‘him,’ or are there other words we should be using?”
Spike mulled this over. It was honestly the first time he had considered this, since being called “him” had never felt wrong in the same way as being called a boy. But then, that was his answer right there, wasn’t it?
“You can still call me ‘him,’ at least for now,” he said. “I’ll let you know if that changes.”
“Certainly,” said Rarity.
“Okay,” said Twilight. “And Spike—is this something we’re going to talk to our other friends about?”
He swallowed. “Not... not quite yet. Soon, though. I just don’t know if I’m ready to tell everypony just yet.”
“That’s fine,” said Twilight. “I can tell this is something you’re going to have to do at your own pace. If you want us to, when you’re ready, Rarity and I can help you tell the others. Can’t we, Rarity?”
“Indeed we can,” she said with a smile.
“I’d appreciate that,” said Spike. Then his eyebrows raised, and he chuckled.
“What?” said Twilight.
“I just thought of something,” Spike said. “Once I tell Big Mac and Discord, we’ll have to rename Guys’ Night.”
“I daresay you will,” said Rarity, laughing herself. “Any ideas for what you might call it?”
“Maybe...” Spike pondered. “Maybe we could be the Triple-O.”
“Triple-O?” Twilight looked bemused.
“Ogres and Oubliettes Organization,” Spike explained. “What do you think?”
“I think you might want to keep brainstorming,” Twilight said.
They all shared a laugh, and once their giggles died down, Rarity said, “Spike, dear, you do know there’s more to makeup than just lipstick?”
“I know that. I guess I just wanted lipstick because it seemed like the easiest.”
“It is one of the simplest items to use,” Rarity agreed. “However, one’s look will be woefully incomplete if one goes about in just lipstick. If you want to know more about cosmetics, I’d be perfectly happy to teach you.”
His face lit up. “Really?”
Rarity nodded. “In fact, if you want to stay over at the boutique some night, I can give you lessons and a makeover.”
“Like tonight?” Spike said excitedly.
Rarity chuckled. “Unfortunately, I am busy tonight. Tomorrow night, however, is wide open.”
Spike looked to Twilight. “Can I?”
“It’s fine by me,” she said.
“Awesome!” he said. “I can’t wait.”
“Neither can I,” said Rarity. “And Spike, I’m sorry we essentially cornered you into telling us that you’re not a boy. I know that this wasn’t the way you would have chosen to divulge this information, but I am glad to have learned it. I feel that it has made us closer friends.”
“I agree,” said Twilight. “This is actually the closest I’ve felt to you in a long time, Spike.”
“Me, too,” Spike said. “I feel close to you guys, too.”
And he did. Allowing his friends to see something so intimate about his identity had made him feel painfully exposed. But having them accept him had brought a warm rush of pure joy—the joy that comes from tossing aside a disguise that no longer suits you and knowing you’re loved for who you truly are.
