//------------------------------// // Secrets Shared // Story: The Secrets We Keep // by BlazzingInferno //------------------------------// The picnic basket swayed from side to side, its shadow trailing behind Spike like a second, boxy tail. The silverware inside clinked sometimes, as did the salt and pepper shakers, and the china plates. Maybe he’d gone overboard with the picnic lunch. It was only their first date, after all. Or maybe it was their second, considering the many blissful hours they’d spent in that tent, waiting for the rain to stop, sharing a blanket to keep warm, and talking over a breakfast that became a brunch. He could’ve stayed out there forever, even if she couldn’t. The fashion world wouldn’t hear of her extending her vacation with no advance notice. At least it could stand for her taking an extra long lunch today, her first day back on the job. He paused a footstep short of reaching the Carousel Boutique’s front door and studied the Closed sign in the window. Never had the building looked so imposing, not even on his numerous failed attempts to bring Rarity flowers or some other impromptu gift. Walking right in was easy when he was just here to help her with some menial task, or to let her know the rest of the gang needed her. Working up the courage to step up to the door with his heart bare like it was now, with the full weight of all he felt for her at the forefront of his mind instead of crammed into a back corner, was terrifying. It didn’t matter that he was expected, or that they’d spent multiple days chiefly in each other’s company and multiple hours wrapped in the same blanket. Everything that came between their first leaving Ponyville and exchanging a long hug goodnight upon their return felt too fantastical to be real. They couldn’t possibly have turned his longtime crush into the beginnings of an actual relationship. And yet here he was, about to knock on her door so they could begin their first date. The door opened of its own accord, just enough for Rarity to peek through the opening. “Spikey? Is something wrong? I saw you approaching through the window, and then you just—” Her voice was all he needed to hear to regain his determination. “Everything’s great! I was just… uh…” “Nervous?” the door opened further. Her smile was faint at best. “I am, too.” Spike held up his cargo. “I-I brought the picnic lunch. We could always grab a blanket and take it to the park instead.” Rarity shook her head, her smile growing. “That’s quite all right. Won’t you come inside? I made us tea.” He blushed. “Sure.” Narrow ribbons of light fell from between the nearly-closed curtains, falling over the clothing racks and mannequins crowded around the windows. The wall by the stairs stood bare and unobstructed, save for a tea service for two waiting on a tray. Spike cracked his knuckles and went to work, rapping his claws against the wallpaper and listening to the sound. “Are you sure about this?” he asked, just as he had when she first proposed this idea during the rainstorm. “Absolutely,” Rarity replied, “I’ve been looking forward to it, despite my misgivings.” Spike couldn’t help smiling, even if Rarity was behind him. The knock of his claws against the wall took on a deeper note, the sound of a hollow space. “Me too. I’m not taking too much time away from your dressmaking, right? I’m sure you’ve got a bunch of extra work to do since we were gone so long.” “It’s fine, Spikey, it really is. Fashion is my career; it will still be there in an hour or two, and I’m sure I can count on you to help me work through the backlog.” He pressed the point of a claw against the wallpaper, in search of a seam. “Two hours just for lunch?” “I’m hardly eating on my own, after all. I intend to take full advantage of whatever time we have together, especially when we need to discuss weighty topics like when to tell our friends about our relationship, and how.” “I know, a-and I totally want to. I just… Remember what you said about romance getting in the way of your career?” Rarity sighed. “Yes, I remember, and I’d like to rephrase my statement about business being fraught with risks. Business, and indeed life itself, is full of opportunities. Fashion is a marvelous opportunity that I devote a great deal of time to, and that’s how I’m going to treat our relationship: a lifelong opportunity for happiness, one that I intend to invest whatever time and energy is needed to make it succeed.” His claw sank into a gap, an open space between a hidden door and its frame. He ran his claw down the gap, precisely cutting the wallpaper as he did. “I would’ve settled for an ‘I like you, Spike.’ ” “Very well: I like you, Spike. I like you very, very much. Would you be my special somepony? Would you like to come by the boutique this afternoon for lunch?” Spike’s knees buckled. He faced Rarity with a huge smile. “You’ve got no idea how long I’ve been waiting to hear—” Rarity leaned forward and touched a hoof to his lips as a smile crossed her own. “I have far more than an idea. I only ask that you contain your enthusiasm long enough to finish reclaiming a long-neglected corner of my shop.” He nodded emphatically. “Right, right, the wall!” He turned around and ran his claws through the remaining wallpaper. The outline of a doorway began to form, slanted at the top to follow the shape of the staircase above. Last came a small hole near the edge where a doorknob was meant to be installed. “There, that’s it!” She took a deep breath and lit her horn. “I do hope it’s not too dusty…” The door’s hinges creaked as they turned. The room’s meagre light flooded a small alcove with a slanted ceiling, bare walls, and carpet-free floor. Rarity cringed. “Ooh, it’s just as filthy as I remembered… and just as—” she covered her eyes and sniffled “—I-I’m sorry I’m crying again. The last time I… it was such an awful night.” He wrapped his arms around her as best he could. “I know. That’s why you said you wanted to do this, to replace the bad memories with good ones, right?” She nodded. “Yes… and more than that.” she lowered her foreleg and marched to the door. “That night, I faced the uncertain future alone. That won’t be the case today, will it?” He stood next to her and, with one coordinated step at a time, crossed the threshold. Rarity ducked under the closet’s the low ceiling, her resolute steps becoming careful shuffles that stirred up dust. “It’s certainly as cramped as I remembered…” Spike squeezed past her and swept the floor with his tail. “Want me to go get a broom?” “That’s quite all right. We’re already covered in dust, after all…” At last they were seated, facing each other with little room to spare. Spike glanced at the shop, the familiar world that he was next to but definitely not part of. He was sitting in a time capsule, a dusty artifact of a night long past, and not a happy one. “So… Here we are…” She nodded, her eyes darting from him to the closet wall to the picnic basket. “Yes. I-I confess I hadn’t really thought this far ahead. Memories aside, it is just a dusty old closet with barely enough room for two… Eating our lunch at the park or even in the kitchen would be far more comf—” His lips touched her nose. “I think it’s kind of romantic… it’s like a secret place we get to share… a secret we can keep together.” Rarity’s cheeks went red and her mouth hung open. Spike had no hope of smiling confidently, not with his heart thumping like a drum and his brain insisting he’d made a huge miscalculation. He tried all the same, stretching his lips into what he knew was the dumbest, least romantic look of all time. Her wide-eyed stare slowly morphed into a smile, and a small giggle followed. “Perhaps you’re right, Spikey-Wikey… but I might need slightly more convincing.” He leaned in as she did the same, hesitating only as their noses found their way past each other. As their lips met, Spike knew their hearts had truly done the same, never to part.