Spike / Rarity
A Friend Of A Friend
Spike
When he thought about it, he supposed it spoke volumes to Twilight's influence that he'd actually made the checklist in the first place.
"'Check myself out in mirror.' Check." Well, it hadn't been a mirror as such. He'd actually spied his reflection in a window as he ambled casually through the warm Ponyville morning, but the result was the same. He was still looking good. Lookin' real good.
Walking on, Spike shuffled the parchment a little in his grasp until the entry above it came clearly to his eyeline. "Bake Jewel Cake." He looked around himself before returning his attention to the list. "Let's be honest, that's not gonna happen." Apart from the fact that he didn't currently have any jewels, his previous attempt at that particular endeavour had demonstrated that actually getting them into any kind of cake mix was next to impossible.
The three entries above it were already ticked off, but he started through them anyway. "'Smell my dirty feet.' Really?" He made a face. Well, it's on the list...
Thirty seconds later, and after a brief stomach-bongo session and a confirmation that his tongue could still reach the tip of his nose, he rolled the parchment up with a satisfied smile. He'd worked his way through the whole thing.
All six items.
And now... he was bored again.
Spike sighed. He remembered once thinking that he wished Twilight would go away on epic adventures more often. Well, she'd been gone for three days now and he already regretted that sentiment. She wasn't on an 'epic adventure' as such—well, actually, Twilight's opinion on that might differ from his own. She was in Canterlot trying to source copies of every book that had perished in the destruction of the Golden Oaks. That way, once plans for a new Ponyville Library were made, it would be that much easier to stock it quickly.
And it was, apparently, of critical importance that Ponyville not be without a fully-stocked library for one second longer than absolutely necessary. Never mind that the number of books ever checked out by Twilight—formally checked out as opposed to a quick loan to friends—stood at, what Twilight had defensively called, 'a round number of less than ten.'
Diligently exploring a dusty filing cabinet in the Town Hall records office had revealed a list of every book that had been registered to Golden Oaks. Twilight herself had a list of all of her personal copies, and Celestia had even kept a list of all the books she'd sent Twilight to read. That sure was a lot of lists, and looking through them all had revealed there had been a lot of books in that old tree. Some of them were incredibly rare, and the fear that something truly irreplaceable might have been destroyed—that some knowledge might have been lost forever—had left Twilight determined to find and replace every single title. She knew where to look though, and she'd estimated that it would take her about a week to scour the Archives and publishing houses in the city for everything she needed.
Spike could have gone with her of course, but a week of searching through indexes and publishers' reference lists, scanning for back copies in their catalogs had sounded like torture. The alternative—a week away from Twilight on his own in Ponyville—had seemed like an early Hearthswarming gift. The chance to do anything he wanted without anyone to tell him otherwise. He would be Spike the free-spirit with the run of the town! Ha-haa!
And now here he was three days later, wandering aimlessly, reduced to belly-bongos and tongue-tip-touching.
He plopped himself down on a patch of fresh, soft grass and huffed, a thin wisp of smoke escaping his nostrils. It was a little paradoxical to think that having Twilight around all the time was largely what kept him sane—Twilight herself wasn't exactly the high-water-mark in that regard—but it sure seemed to be true. After only three days, he was really starting to miss her.
He was really starting to miss the Library too, though that was never coming back. Whether by coincidence, habit or subconscious intent, the comfortable patch of grass he'd brought himself to lay directly opposite the charred, blackened and ruined shell of the once great tree. It didn't matter that its purpose as a library had gone vastly under-appreciated by the town at large, because to him it had always been... so much more than a library.
It had been home.
He couldn't stop his baleful gaze travelling slowly from the destroyed tree to the fabulous, crystal-like palace stood on the town limits; the newest addition to the Ponyville skyline, all shiny walls and sharp angles. It wasn't exactly in keeping with the village's rustic aesthetic.
Spike grimaced at the sight of it. There was just something about it that made him uncomfortable. It was a usurper, trying to replace something that could never be replaced. And it sure wasn't home. It might become that eventually, he supposed. He might even grow to love it. But it would take time. And he'd been trying to avoid the castle as much as possible until that time came.
Time was one thing he wasn't short of right now, but he'd officially run out of ways to pass it. The rest of the week until Twilight returned might as well have stretched into infinity. He flopped down onto his back in the warm grass and gazed at the sunny blue sky, watching a few birds fly casually overhead.
Come on, Spike. If Twilight were here without you, she wouldn't be bored. So... what would she do?
The answer was obvious. So much so that it popped into his head even without further thought. She'd go and see her friends, wouldn't she? Whenever she was at a loose end, or in some way troubled, Twilight's friends were always there for her, ready to help and cheer her up.
So, that's what he'd do too. He'd go hang out with her friends. How had it taken him three days to—?
He blinked. His friends. They were his friends too, of course. He'd go hang out with his friends. How had it taken him three days to come up with that?
Deciding which of his five closest pals to grace with his time wasn't easy. But one name did slowly bubble its way to the top of the list. The name of the most beautiful, elegant, perfect mare ever. And he could spend as long as he wanted with her! After all, he didn't have anything else to do.
Standing, he began to saunter in the direction of Carousel Boutique. He cracked a cheerful smile and gave a little, tuneful whistle. Boredom would soon be a distant memory.
* * *
Rarity
Spike rapped his knuckles on the door to the Boutique and waited patiently for it to open. From somewhere within, the sounds of faint commotion and quiet, melodic humming wafted to his ears.
In spite of his knocking, the noise did not abate and after a few patient moments of hearing the soft sounds of fabric being moved, cut, sewn and who-knew what else, he knocked again, louder this time.
It even took a third attempt before, slowly, the pleasant humming and other noises inside faded with a hesitancy that suggested interruption was unwelcome.
The door opened and an annoyed Rarity looked out, her red-rimmed spectacles perched elegantly on her muzzle. She impatiently—and automatically—looked left, then right, and then eventually down. Finally seeing him, her annoyed expression vanished in a flash, and instead her face brightened into a cheery, warm smile. "Oh, Spikey!" she said, turning and inviting him to follow her in. "I'm so terribly sorry, darling. I'm afraid I was very much 'in the zone' there. I barely heard you knocking."
Spike followed Rarity inside and it was as though he was under a spell. His eyes wouldn't quite focus and his grin wouldn't leave his face. His steps felt light, almost like he were floating, and his head swam a little. Even with that split-second annoyed expression, Rarity was the most beautiful pony in the world. And when she'd seen him and smiled... he was sure his heart had skipped several beats.
The interior of Carousel Boutique, however, was a total mess. Strips and scraps of fabric of every colour and material were strewn about the floor, over dress-ponies and across the low stage. Reels of thread and spools of ribbon were likewise littered about the place, as were several of the tools of Rarity's trade—a pair of scissors, a measuring tape, a pin-cushion among others.
Picking his way carefully over the mess, he followed Rarity to a dress-pony in the middle of the room which had been clothed in a beautiful, modern, flowing dress of green and gold. Not knowing much about fashion per se, he couldn't really comment on its form or fashionability. But it sure looked stunning, especially when the light caught it just so, and it was infused with just the right amount of Rarity's bespoke style and flair to ensure that anypony wearing it would certainly stand out from the crowd.
"This..." Rarity began, needing no prompt, "...is the first piece in my newest line. The Colours of Spring. What do you think?" She smiled that sweet, affectionate smile she had. The one Spike liked to imagine she saved just for him.
"It's... beautiful," he said honestly. He may not have known much about fashion and dresses, but he could certainly tell a thing of beauty when he saw it. And right now it was in the dress before him, and moreover, in the sweetly smiling, radiant face of the perfect pony who'd created it.
"Oh, Spike. You really are too kind," said Rarity as she turned back to the dress, re-setting her spectacles and levitating a piece of fabric and a threaded needle to her eyeline. "I've been at this one all morning and it's nearly finished. It just... needs a few more... adjustments..." Her voice became hollower and softer, fading until she trailed off.
"It looks amazing," reiterated Spike cheerfully. "It's... almost as beautiful as you are..."
Spike's eyes widened. He hadn't meant to say that out loud! Suddenly his cheeks became as fire and his eyes began to dart, desperately scanning the room for anything that might offer a hasty change of subject.
Rarity though, offered little reaction. "Hmm?" she said absently, still focussed on the garment before her, looping and weaving the needle and thread in her aura with such confidence and dexterity that she might as well have been performing a surgical procedure.
"I mean... uh... how come you need a new line, Rarity? Didn't you...? I mean, I... thought you had ideas for the next fifteen seasons or something?" It wasn't a seamless escape, but Rarity was apparently only half-listening.
"Mmm? Oh, I did," she muttered from somewhere very far away. "But this month's Clothes Horse... gave me... gave me... such... inspiration that I've had to completely... uh... re-think and re-imagine..."
She finally trailed off again, now snipping the thread with a pair of scissors and going to work on a hemline with the needle.
There was a pregnant silence as Rarity obliviously worked on, her eyes fixed rigidly on the dress, stitching the hem with exquisite care and attention to detail. Long seconds passed and Spike began to shuffle and fidget a little, unsure of what to do. Just as the urge to say something—anything—to break the awkward quiet became overwhelming, Rarity stopped, blinked twice, and looked back at him.
"Oh, Spikey, I'm so sorry. I promise I'm not doing it on purpose. It's just that I have so many ideas, and I haven't been able to lose myself in my work this much for months. It's wonderful to be able to take my time to create something without having to worry about a deadline for an important client. Or Fashion Week. Or an imminent threat to all of Equestria..." Even as she spoke, Spike noticed her gaze drawn inexorably back to the dress as though it held some hypnotic power over her, the tools enveloped in her aura going to work automatically on the fabric.
"Hey, no problem. I understand. Maybe I can help? Are you making anything for the... sophisticated gentleman?" he asked, twirling a nonexistent moustache.
Not diverting her attention from the dress, Rarity nevertheless wore a sympathetic smile. "Actually, I am. But I'm afraid none of it is for the... bipedal gentleman. You're slightly the wrong shape to model it for me dear..." Spike could already hear Rarity's voice turning distant once again.
"Well... is there anything else I can do?" he tried, able to filter out all but the merest hint of desperation from his tone.
Rarity's voice was soft and vacant now. "Hmm? Oh... perhaps you could pass me that blue... ribbon...?" Even as she spoke, Spike saw her pale-blue aura envelop a similarly-coloured spool of silken ribbon and begin to levitate it towards the gorgeous dress that had once more ensnared her attention. "Thank you... Spike..." she said vaguely, zoning out completely, entranced by her work once more.
Uh... no problem, Rarity. Spike sighed and quietly began to tip-toe towards the door, picking his way carefully back over the detritus strewn all around. If Rarity was really this absorbed in her work, then he wouldn't be much of a friend if he kept distracting her when she needed to concentrate.
As he reached the door, still slightly ajar, Rarity once again began the sweet, absent-minded humming he'd first heard outside.
He ducked through the door and closed it softly behind him, leaving his friend to work in peace.
She hadn't even noticed him leave, had she?
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I feel like it's a bit forced, personally, but very good with a relatively low amount of errors!
I've been looking for something like this! Where... Spike realizes he's just attached to Twilight, and that her friends are only his friends by association and they like him... but he doesn't really have a bond with them and... hopefully finds something new for himself.
I like it! Spike needs to make his own friends outside of the Mane Six.
Do go on, good sir!
You're back! Woohoo!
A very interesting start. I second 5025496 on this: Do go on.
I'll admit I was a little worried to see that Rarity was the first pony up, considering that there's some canon evidence that she and Spike spend some time together. After reading it I can see that I had nothing to worry about; this felt like an entirely plausible interaction between them, even if it doesn't really illuminate anything new about their particular friendship. As I see it no friend who walked through that door would've fared any better.
Keep going, good Sir, I'm sure I'll like what follows
I'd like to point out that she'd have to be really into her work to not notice the bell ring when her door opens/closes. That could well be a paying customer, and ignoring such ponies ain't gonna get you a good rep, dawg.
But yeah, still good
You have caught my attention.
Please continue good sir
Nice story. I'm intrigued.
5025397 Wait what exactly is there to feel forced?
Ask her to hang out Spike!
5026093 You're right, she would really have to be into her work not to notice that. It is Rarity though, her being that spaced out is believable given the context.
5026416 Ummm...Indeed?
This is interesting, because Twilight's friends aren't exactly his own either...
It's like a 12 year old being friends with his parents' friends (who don't exactly see him as such)...
So I believe Spike will have to make friends with ponies his own age...
You get a favourite from me
This is an okay fic, but I appreciate the effort you gave with it.
This should be interesting, however with Rarity there is loads of cannon evidence they have a friendship outside of Twilight, Rarity even goes so far as to confirm it as such.
Judging from this chapter, it might not be that Spike hasn't made friends with the Mane 6, but that he managed to come to them at inconvenient times leading him to think such. Rarity being too caught up in her work to notice others isn't unusual. I admit, part of this hope is because this story doesn't have the Sad tag.
So with the best FiMfic writer I've been recently captivated by deciding his next piece of lit is about a subject that's perpetually on my mind, one could probably scribble “stoked” on the back of my neck and be instantly forgiven. My enthusiasm, though, lasted about as long as an untied balloon with its mouth suddenly unpinched. Where I'd been hoping for a story that sheds light on how ridiculous it is that Spike has next to no chemistry with the other five main characters, you're instead writing one that illustrates that he will never have a close personal bond with them, and should look elsewhere for more meaningful friendships. It's just as valid and admirable a pursuit, but the idea that he'll never have a place among the “mane six” or contribute to their dynamic is also the only MLP-related thing that relentlessly disheartens me (that, and the folks who encourage it to stay that way), sympathetic prose notwithstanding. Nothing to do but enjoy this story for what it is and see how it goes.
As far as I can tell, there's nothing about you as an author that makes you stand out from the crowd. And yet there's something about your style that is just so very readable, if you catch my drift. Whatever it is, it always makes me want to keep reading.
Very believable this. Looking forward to the rest.
Eh...maybe with the others. But I think at least Rarity considers him a friend.
Maybe even Applejack after what happened with the timberwolves...
I've actually been wondering if Spike is actually anything more than a pet to Twilight and her friends recently and I'm glad that someone else has touched on the matter to give me some more food for thought.
Hot Fuzz reference. Heh heh.
P.S. If that's not what you intended then, I reject your reality and substitute my own.
Oh come on. Maybe I'd buy it about the others but it is well-established that Rarity considers Spike a friend and cares about him greatly.
http://m.youtube.com/watch?v=XK7Q-AFhdXs
And conversely, Spike knows Rarity well enough to know that she often gets lost in creative frenzies and that he shouldn't take it personally
It must be destroyed for...the greater good
5038377 How would you know? Twilight took this personally before.
Then where is he staying during that time
5029573
To be entirely fair, for this particular scene, at least, I'm fairly certain Rarity would have acted the same way to Twilight. When she's in the zone, she's in the zone.
I see that happening
The castle must die. BURN IT.
I don't know how you burn crystals, but BURN IT.
5288821 Crystal don't actually burn, but they do melt. But you're going to need a flame that's about 6,500 degrees. Assuming the crystals aren't protected by magic of course.
Much like Spike...
5415281
Then do it
Much better than the episode (when Spike owes his life to AJ)
5288821 Diamonds can burn, given that they're made of carbon...
5039960
Simon Skinner: Princess Twilight had an awful house.
]*Flashbacks of the library's destruction are briefly shown.*
NWA: Awful.
well, this is rarity's hobby and career. i wouldnt blame her if she acted like this
"pregnant silence." Something about that image is fantastic. I love the choice of word you used to characterize the silence. Really sticks out in my mind.
5038351
Agreed rarity and twilight and starlight are true friends to him but the others are iffy