//------------------------------//
// Chapter 9 
// Story: To Accept Poison 
// by TheMessenger 
//------------------------------//


Few ponies enjoyed visits to the hospital. It may have been the complete lack of smells to find in the sterile environment, save for the sickly hint of ethanol, or it could have been how unnaturally clean the floors were considering how many dirty hooves trampled over those tiles. Perhaps how the establishment served as a constant reminder of how fleeting life could be simply rubbed ponies the wrong way, or it may have had something to do with the bizarre, almost Discord-like system the place operated, in which positive meant bad news and being negative became a reason to celebrate.

Everypony had a reason to dislike and complain, though few vocalized them out of fear that one of the physicians might take personal offense, and Rarity was no exception. From the drab uniform colors of the gowns, bedding, and curtains, to the hard, uncomfortable cushion currently against her rump. She might as well have found a rock to plant herself on. And then there were those horridly sunny posters that detailed the steps of pregnancy with little cartoon figures. And would somepony please update the magazine catalogue? That issue of Fashion Finders Exclusive was out of date six months ago.

Worst of all, Rarity was beginning to discover, was the wait. The test had been run, the questions asked, all they had to do now was wait for the doctor to return with the results. It was all they could do, really, just sit and stew in anxiety and boredom. 

She turned to her companion sitting next to her, and to her odd comfort, found him sharing her suffering. Earlier, Spike had found interest in one of the magazines, reading out loud the tips and tricks to parenting as determined by apparent expert parents. It had helped stave her rising panic and alleviated some of the boredom, and it was encouraging to see how serious Spike was taking his new standing in life, but the factoids soon ran dry, and, after being told off for pacing, Spike now sat still, his foot tapping impatiently as he alternated between staring at the door and at the unicorn on the uncomfortable hospital cushion.

Rarity reached over and and stuck her hoof into Spike's claw. The claw closed over it. She smiled at him, and he smiled awkwardly back. The tapping ceased. 

The door opened, and both unicorn and dragon jumped in their seats. In stepped a mare in a clean lab coat with a clipboard cradled in her foreleg. As she approached Rarity, the mare scribbled down a few notes. 

"Here," the doctor said, giving Rarity a small medicine bottle. "Take two tablets each day, one with breakfast and one with dinner. That should take care of the nausea."

Rarity looked down at the bottle. "Allergy pills? I don't understand. What are--"

"There's no morning sickness," the doctor said. "You're just suffering from an allergic reaction. If you have to have seaweed, make sure it's fresh or at least boiled. None of the packaged dry stuff, there's something in the salt."

"It wasn't morning sickness?" Spike asked. "Then, then is she--"

"She's not pregnant. All tests came in negative. And yes, we made sure to take the whole dragon side into account," the doctor explained. "As for the hormonal imbalance, that would be due to the self-induced stress. I recommend taking the week off to rest, Ms. Rarity. Now, is there anything else we can do for you?"

Rarity wanted to shout, cheer, scream, demand an explanation for why it took so long to provide such underwhelming results. The clash of emotions, between relief, anger, disappointment, and a half dozen others, left her drained and exhausted. She sighed. "Thank you, doctor. That will be all."

They made their way through the hospital, passing wards and rooms until they reached the lobby filled with waiting ponies. They left and followed the path back into town. "So, what now?" Spike asked as they passed by storefronts. 

"Now? Well I suppose we should tell Pinkie Pie to cancel that foal shower." Rarity stole a glance at the dragon beside her. "How are you feeling?"

"Relieved, I guess," Spike answered. "I mean, I don't think I'm ready to be a dad just yet, but at the same time, well, I feel, I feel--"

"Disappointed?"

"Yeah, disappointed. Weird. What about you?"

"The same, actually, and a little tired," Rarity said with a sigh. "To think, this whole ordeal was, well, it tires me just thinking about how underwhelming it ended up being."

They approached the boutique's entrance. "So, um, where does that leave us?" Spike asked.

"What do you mean?"

"Us." Spike pointed at himself, then at her, then back at himself. "Our relationship. What does that make us? I mean, we can't just go back to normal, can we?"

Rarity's hoof rested on the door handle. Slowly, she turned. "I don't know Spike," she said, "Everything's moved so fast. I can't remember even half of what happened that night. Can you?"

"Well, no, not really."

"And your confession? I don't remember it. Do you?"

"I, I don't know," admitted Spike. "Are you saying, we should, should we just--"

"Tell me what you thought you told me that night," Rarity suddenly ordered. 

Spike gulped. "Right here? Right now?"

"Yes."

Spike took a deep breath. His claws clenched tightly at his sides. "Rarity, I love you. You're the most beautiful, most wonderful being I've ever met, and I, I love you." He closed his eyes as he turned red. 

Rarity was turning the same color. "And do you still feel that way?"

Spike slowly opened his eyes. He nodded. "Yeah, of course."

"Thank you, Spike, darling, for letting me know." Rarity stepped inside. The door stayed opened, and after moment, Spike followed her in. "You're right, it'd be difficult to return things to the way they were before, especially after hearing you say that."

"Then--"

"Spike, would you accept me as your marefriend?"

The party Pinkie Pie held for the new couple the follow day recycled all the gifts and decorations she had planned for the canceled foal shower. When questioned, Pinkie merely winked and said, "It's only a matter of time."