Finding Your Family

The table was extended as far out as it could go, but it was still a bit of a tight squeeze near the door. Spike sat on one end, his back to the window, while Scootaloo sat on the other side, next to the kitchen door. To her left, Aunty Lofty sat with the kids, who were scooted together on a bench seat. On her right, her mother, then her father, and Aunt Holiday sat next to Spike.

For awhile, no one spoke. The entirety of the noise was coming from forks scraping against plates and glasses being placed on their coasters. The first words spoken after sitting down were from Lofty to Rainbow Slash. "More shakshuka?"

Slash nodded in response.

After a few more minutes of silence, Scootaloo turned to her parents. "You're going to have to talk to him eventually."

"He's being very rude," grumbled Snap. "He hasn't even asked what we do for a living."

"I'm sorry," swallowed Cudgel. "What do you do for a living?"

"They're both researchers that travel all over the world, but are based at the Royal Canterlot University," answered Spike. "Snap in Botanical Biology and Pharmaceuticals, and Mane in Animal Biology and Chemistry. Eight months ago, Mane suggested a new lightweight, yet sturdy alloy that, while it failed to meet expectations, did manage to create a new self-mending metal, and three months ago, Snap found that the extract from a flower native to Yakyakistan has the exact same chemical makeup as the medicine for the trots. I had to compile both of those reports, so that's how I know what your grandparents do."

"No need to be rude about it," pouted Mane.

"He wasn't," replied Holiday. "All he did was say what you do for a living and list off some of your most recent accomplishments."

"He was very cold when he said he was forced to compile them."

"I never said I was forced to," replied Spike. "I was asked to, and I accepted. Part of my job is to keep up to date with scientific advances and compile them into more easily digestible explanations so that they can be more easily skimmed, because normal ponies can't tell the difference between trichlorodiphenhydramine and monoferrotriphenheptamine. Some of them don't even know what dihydrogen monoxide is."

"I don't know what it is, for example," shrugged Scootaloo.

Both of her parents turned to her, with their jaws dropping in unison and their eyes going wide.

"She was out of the country during her high school years, and was studying dracology in earnest," explained Holiday. "She's not dumb, she was just never enrolled in a chemistry class. She's taking classes now to make up for it, and we take care of the kids on those days."

"Why doesn't their father do that?" asked Mane accusingly.

"Because he has a full-time job," answered Lofty.

"Transcribing and normalising reports shouldn't take that long," said Mane. "It should only be a full-time job if he's bad at it."

"It accounts for maybe one percent of my work," answered Spike. "I only go over that about once a month, or as needed, and it usually only takes a couple of hours. I spend a lot more time overseeing events than I do transcribing. I used to do a lot more stenography, too."

"So, you're a clerk?" asked Snap. "Seems like that could be a part-time job..."

"I'm an aide," clarified Spike. "My job is to do whatever I must to make Princess Twilight Sparkle's job easier. And sometimes, that means actually doing her job for her."

"So, you're an assistant," Mane smirked.

"A number-one assistant," defended Lofty. "If it weren't for him, we'd have lost the Crystal Empire. It was Spike that carried the Crystal Heart to the stand that drove away Sombra. It was his writing that was the catalyst that triggered Discord's defeat, and it was his claws that built this house."

"That would explain the lack of decoration," snorted Snap.

"I thought to hold off until Scootaloo moved back to Ponyville," answered Spike. "And then once she did, we decided together that it was more important that she start studying for her weather licence and secondary education."

"Plus, there's a photograph we hung on the wall this afternoon," added Scootaloo.

"Yes, the poorly edited one."

Holiday turned and smacked Snap in the shoulder. "Don't be mean. You do realize that by criticising the lack of decor, you're inferring that your own daughter has bad taste?"

Scootaloo lowered her head. She had intended to defend Spike, but in doing so, she'd not been paying attention to the fact that she was taking the hits for him.

"Spike is a fine, upstanding dragon," continued Holiday. "He has the trust of not only the princesses, but also Lofty, myself, and your daughter. Even your grandchildren can see how happy they are together. Why can't you?"

Snap leaned in. "Because we've never met Spike before."

"Sure you have," answered Spike. "Eleven years ago, when you sold your house. I was in attendance at the Cutie Mark Crusaders Appreciation Day party. I helped pack your luggage onto the train to Shire Lanka."

"That was handled by Big Macintosh, Troubleshoes and some third pony whose name I can't remember," dismissed Snap.

"Spike," answered Lofty. "I was there, too; I saw him."

"Even with that being the case," sighed Mane, "we still haven't seen him in over a decade. How could we possibly know what he's like?"

"I didn't even see you to the station," replied Scootaloo. "You've seen Spike at least twice since you last saw me."

"Scootaloo, we're just trying to do what's best for you."

"And how would you know what's best for me?! Even if Spike only showed up for a weekend every three months, he was there! Sometimes isn't the best, but it's better than never!"

As tears began to well in Scootaloo's eyes, it was Lofty whose wing wrapped around her shoulder. Spike had kicked his chair back and stood up, but seeing that Lofty was handling it, he sat back down. "Perhaps we should change the subject," he suggested. "We can pick this up another time."

"I think that's a good idea," agreed Lofty. "And I have the perfect solution." Giving Scootaloo one more hug, she popped into the kitchen and came back with some chocolate-stuffed pastries. "Who wants some rugelach?"