//------------------------------//
// Chapter 7 : The Date 
// Story: Equestria Girls Spikebelle 3: Summer Vacation Part 2 
// by Chaos04 
//------------------------------//

This was the evening Rarity dreaded. Ever since she woke up, she had been mulling over the blind date she had been coerced into going on.
Normally, she loved working on her image in the mirror. This time, her heart just wasn’t in it. Every time she ran her brush through her hair, a new idea of how the date could go wrong entered her mind. The next time she saw Twilight, Rarity was going to make her repay this favor with interest.
As she applied her makeup, she went through every way that Twilight was going to repay her for this. Perhaps it would be better to sentence Twilight to a month of free favors.
The last of her makeup was applied, and all was set. Her hair was sub par, she only used minimal makeup, and she didn’t even bother making sure her shoes matched the rest of her clothes.
“Well, this is it. Let’s see that ‘first impression’ smile,” Rarity thought to herself.
She looked deeply into her mirror, and tried to smile pleasantly at her reflection. The smile her date would see was not going to be a pleasant one, that was for sure. Instead of her normal, welcoming smile, she put on more of a crooked grimace that would have made even her cat run for cover.
“Send me on a bombing raid. Inject me with a new strain of the plague. But, no. Twilight wants to set me up on a blind date,” Rarity thought. With a defeated sigh, she buried her face into her arms as she slumped onto her desk.
She was snapped from her funk when the doorbell rang, signalling the arrival of the babysitter. She hadn’t anticipated on doing anything in the evening after Sweetie Belle returned home from her weekend trip, but with a few hasty last minute arrangements, she managed to set something up.
A look to her bedside clock, and she saw it was time to go, if she was to make it to the bistro in time for her date.
With a deep breath, Rarity was able to coax herself to stand up and answer the door.
When she reached the bottom of the stairs, she saw that Sweetie Belle was already answering the door.
“Hey, Sweetie. How’s things going?” Rainbow Dash asked, after the door was opened for her.
“I’m almost fourteen years old, and my sister still thinks I need a babysitter. How well do you think things are?” Sweetie replied.
“Sweetie Belle, you know that it just won’t do for one to leave a young girl on their own,” Rarity said, before addressing Rainbow Dash. “Thank you so much for agreeing to this, Rainbow Dash. I know you must have had plans and--”
“It was nothing, Rares. I actually didn’t have anything to do anyway. Besides, I had to be the first one to see how things turned out after your blind date, heh-heh,” Dash said.
“Yes. Thank you for your compassion,” Rarity deadpanned. “I’m afraid I must be off now. Sweetie Belle, you know the protocol: no messes, and be in bed by 8:30.”
“Heaven forbid I’m overtired,” Sweetie said.
Rarity said nothing more before leaving. She sashayed over to her car, started it up and drove off, leaving Dash and Sweetie Belle to see her off, until she was out of sight around the corner.
“Alright, she’s gone now,” Sweetie Belle said to the alleyway next to the boutique.
In that moment, Scootaloo walked from the narrow crevasse, carrying a large duffel bag over her shoulder.
“What do you got, squirt?” Rainbow Dash asked.
“All the good stuff. I brought the video games, the scary movies, a boatload of s’more ingredients, and the menu from the Pimento Green Deli,” Scootaloo answered.
“Awesome. You kids set up the gaming session. I’m going to order one of those three meter sandwiches from the deli,” Dash said, as she guided the children inside.
Even if Rarity didn’t have a good time, Dash, Sweetie Belle and Scootaloo were going to make the most of theirs.





Rarity had been sitting at her table at the Bridle Bistro for nearly ten minutes with no sign of her blind date. She had been reading the menu to occupy herself, by now knowing precisely what she wanted to order. But, she would never get her hands on the rosemary chicken she so desired.
Another look to her phone from her handbag, and she saw that her date was now twelve minutes late.
“Ugh! The bastard’s going to pay dearly for this,” Rarity said.
“You’re not talking about me, are you?” said a boy, as he sat down at the table with Rarity.
Rarity looked up from her phone and saw a boy with neatly combed indigo-grey hair and a neatly pressed red coat sitting across from her.
“I’m sorry, but that seat’s already taken,” Rarity said.
“I know. By me,” the boy answered.
“No. I mean that it’s spoken for. I’m here on a blind date--”
“--Which you agreed to do as a favor for your friend, Twilight Sparkle.”
The pieces had come together, and Rarity mentally analyzed the boy before her.
“You? You’re my blind date?” Rarity said.
“Yes, dear lady. It is I: Capper,” the boy said, spreading his arms and bowing his head. Had he been looking, he would have seen how he made a waiter nearly lose his balance and topple over.
“We’re off to a great start already,” Rarity thought. One last look over the boy, and she thought she recognized him from somewhere. “Hold on a moment. Didn’t we go to seventh grade together?”
“And I asked you out even then,” Capper affirmed. “Then you rejected me, but that would only stop a weaker man.”
“I suppose I was wise beyond my years back then,” Rarity said.
“Don’t give me that. I know you’ve been pining after me since then,” Capper said.
“Oh, hell. You’re one of those,” Rarity sighed.
“And so much more,” Capper said, as he looked over the menu.
Rarity wanted to leave in that moment, but was stopped when she saw the waiter approaching them from the corner of her eye.
“Ah. I see the other in your party arrived. Are you ready to order?” the waiter asked.
“Yeah. I’ll have the rack of lamb with the potato on the side,” Capper said. He turned his attention to his date. “What’ll you have, Rares? Order what you want. It’s all on me.”
Rares? That was a name she only allowed her friends to call her. They boy she had just met had no right to go using it so flippantly. She was already upset with him for being late, and now she was going to make him pay out the nose for his display of irritating machismo.
“I’ll have the rosemary chicken,” Rarity said with a devious smirk.
“Alright. I’ll get your orders to the kitchen,” the waiter said, as he wrote down the orders.
“And I’ll have the caprese salad, eggplant parmesan, pasta margherita, grilled salmon, a side of breadsticks, another side of spiced olives, and what is the most expensive drink on the menu?” Rarity asked.
“That’d be the Piscio D’uva,” the waiter said.
“Wine? Oh, heaven knows I’m not old enough for that yet. Instead, I’ll just have this lovely ten dollar glass of strawberry lemonade. Made with actual fruits?” Rarity said.
“I squeezed the lemons and sliced the strawberries myself,” the waiter said.
“Perfect! I’ll have that. And for dessert, I’ll be having the cherry amaretto gelato sundae. With extra fudge, if you please,” Rarity said, as she handed the menu back to the waiter.
The waiter had just finished writing Rarity’s order, before he took the menus and brought their orders to the kitchen.
“Rarity, I’m surprised that you can keep that figure for how much you eat,” Capper said.
“Oh, no, no. Normally, I don’t eat like a horse. But, on such a special occasion, I want to simply treat myself. Besides, I think I earned it after sitting here for so long,” Rarity said.
“Ah…” Capper trailed off into uncomfortable laughter. He heard Rarity’s message loud and clear, and was now paying for his misstep. “I guess I was asking for that. So, how are things at the boutique?”
“You take me out for a lovely evening, and you start by asking me about work?” Rarity asked.
“Oh. Sorry,” Capper said, calm and collected as ever. In spite of his steady tone, he could not stop his forehead from perspiring. Things were not going the way he had hoped.
“As it so happens, my work is just lovely,” Rarity said. “Just this week, I’ve received a special order from a rather upscale client.”
“Upscale, eh? Who might it be, and how upscale were they?” Capper said.
“Only the owner of Cat’s Eye Software. One Rocky Clawswell,” Rarity said, touting the major client.
“No way. This is such a major coincidence. Rocky Clawswell is my uncle,” Capper said.
“Oh, please. You’re already late. Don’t tell me you’re a liar too,” Rarity said.
“You want proof? Okay. It just so happens I have the pudding what bears the proof,” Capper said, as he produced his wallet from his pocket.
When Capper opened his wallet, Rarity saw him flash a series of hundred dollar bills for just a moment. She was all ready to roll her eyes at the display, when Capper took a photograph from within and slid it across the table to Rarity.
“There you go. Take a look at that,” Capper said.
Rarity looked at the photograph that showed a family get-together of some sort. Among them was Capper, two people who were presumably his parents, and another older man who she thought may have been his grandfather. But, in the same picture was a man that Rarity most certainly recognized. A man who had come to her boutique to order a new suit that very week.
“Oh. I see,” Rarity said as she slid the photo back across the table, feeling slightly ashamed for doubting the boy.
“Yeah, he’s quite a character. You know, he bought me a jet ski to make up for missing my birthday,” Capper chuckled, as he put the photo back into his wallet.
“Yes. Quite,” Rarity said, not sure how to answer such a thing.
“You know, if you wanted, I could take you to the beach some time after this to ride that jet ski around. What do you say?” Capper said, flashing a smile as he casually leaned back in his seat.
“Um...I’ll think about it,” Rarity said.
“Here are your appetizers. Try not to fill up too much on them,” the waiter said to Rarity, before he left.
Capper took one of the bread rolls that had been left for them, before continuing their conversation.
“Look at that. Crusty on the outside, soft on the inside. That’s some quality stuff there,” Capper said.
Rarity watched Capper take a bite of his roll, when she had a question of her own.
“Capper, there’s something I must know: if you come from all this money, why take me to a small eatery like this? Why not a four-star restaurant with a month long waiting list?” Rarity said.
“Hey, look! Garlic butter!” Capper said.
“Yes, I see. But you didn’t--”
“You think they got parmesan butter here? I should ask. Waiter!”
So far, the date was not going well. Her date was late, he was a materialistic snob, and he was terrible at carrying a conversation. Rarity sighed quietly as she took a roll of her own. To her, the meal couldn’t end soon enough.





The meals were eaten, the hefty bill was paid in full by Capper, and they were now seated in the grass of the city park. Rarity took her shoes off to get herself comfortable while they waited for the concert to begin. And for nearly ten minutes afterward, she said nothing to Capper.
Capper tried to think of some way that he could relate to Rarity. Subjects he hadn’t covered yet were current events, school, literature, art, music.
“Music,” Capper thought. He hadn’t thought about it before, but Rarity was in a band. That was sure to be a conversation starter. Now that he had an opening, he turned to talk to his date. “Have you ever played a stage like this, Rarity?”
Unfortunately, Rarity was not paying attention to him. He was so deep in thought, that he hadn’t noticed Rarity was giggling happily at the juggler before her.
The juggler bent, twisted, and contorted his whole body as he threw his juggling balls into the air. With a flourish, he threw his hat into the air and caught it on his shoulders.
Rarity’s eyes sparkled as she watched the juggler roll his hat across his shoulders and juggled at the same time.
Capper grumbled quietly at the sight. Of all the things, Rarity was impressed by an unemployed nobody with way too much time on his hands. What was it about this guy that impressed Rarity so much? It couldn’t have been his clothes. All the juggler wore was a black jacket, black jeans, a white t-shirt, black shoes and a black pork pie hat. Hardly the kind of thing that would attract Rarity’s awe and wonder. And it irritated him to no end to think it could have been his juggling tricks.
The juggler placed his hat on the ground, allowing his juggling balls to fall into it. Without even using his hands, the juggler performed a flawless cartwheel that placed his head inside his hat. When he finished, he landed on his feet with his hat on his head.
“Do it again!” Rarity said, as she delightedly clapped her hands.
“Rarity,” Capper interjected, “We’re here to watch the concert.”
“But, the concert hasn’t even begun. So, I think I’ll pass the time with this lovely gentleman,” Rarity answered.
“Yeah. But, your date’s with me. Not this nobody,” Capper said, pointing to the juggler.
“I think you’re right. I don’t remember her asking me out,” the juggler said.
“Capper! That’s a terrible thing to say. I’m supposed to be enjoying myself, and I’m doing just that. And he is no nobody,” Rarity rebutted.
“Actually, I kind of am,” the juggler said.
“That’s not the point. I’m supposed to be the one giving you a good time,” Capper said.
“Then you’d better start. Because if he doesn’t, nobody will,” Rarity said, indicating the juggler.
“I thought that’s what I was doing,” the juggler answered.
“Will you shut up already!?” Capper snapped at the juggler, before returning his attention to Rarity. “Look, what’s it going to take to get us to go out again?”
“We won’t,” Rarity said. She collected her shoes, took the juggler’s hand and used it to help herself up.
“Uh...Rarity?” Capper said, not able to think of what else to say.
“Capper,” Rarity began, as she put on her shoes, “You’ve been nothing, if not unpleasant all evening. I don’t care how much money you have, who your relative are, or how much private space you own at the marina. I have no desire to continue this date.”
Those words clutched to Capper’s chest. All he had was his family money to impress others. It was how he made friends his whole life. The worst part was when his friends suddenly left him after his parents’ money took a dip and forced them to sell their house and almost all of their furnishings. Without any of that, it was no wonder to him that he lost Rarity.
Capper sat silently as he watched Rarity leave. He knew there was nothing he could have done to save the date. If only he could have afforded something higher grade than this.
“Call me stupid, but I don’t think she was happy with you,” the juggler said.
“No kidding, stupid!” Capper said.
“Actually, the name’s Nobody,” the juggler said.
Capper groaned as he pinched the bridge of his nose.
Onstage, the local band took their places to begin the concert. Rarity didn’t even stop to listen as the first chords were struck. She had parked her car somewhere between the park and the restaurant, knowing the two were not far from one another. Now, she was ready to put the night behind herself.





It was barely eight o’ clock as Rainbow Dash, Scootaloo and Sweetie Belle were digging into their portion of the three meter sandwich they had ordered as Rarity’s car pull up to the front of the shop.
“She’s back already!?” Sweetie Belle gasped.
Quick as a wink, she and the others set to work packing up everything Scootaloo had brought. When they were done, Scootaloo had just climbed out the nearest window, just as Rarity walked in the door.
“Heya, Rares. Back so soon?” Dash asked, as she hid her half meter of sandwich behind her back.
“Yes. Unfortunately,” Rarity answered.
“Bad date?” Sweetie Belle asked, as she nudged what was visible of her sandwich behind the couch.
“Let’s just say its downs outnumbered its ups,” Rarity said, as she walked past the others, and headed upstairs.
“Guess it was a really bad date,” Sweetie Belle said.
“Nothing we can do about it now. And since she’s here, our night’s spoiled. I guess I’ll head home now,” Dash said.
Sweetie Belle walked to the front door with Dash, where Scootaloo was waiting for them. She hadn’t eaten much of her portion of sandwich, which left much of it sticking out of her duffel bag.
“Are we going to get to finish this night later? We didn’t even get to the s’mores and scary movies,” Scootaloo said.
“Friday at Applejack’s place. Me and her already arranged a sleepover. You two can stay in Apple Bloom’s room,” Dash said.
“Just like that?” Sweetie Belle asked.
“You know how Granny Smith is. You two can come over to stay the night, and she’ll barely question it.”
“Got it. This Friday?” Scootaloo asked.
“This Friday,” Dash affirmed.
“Can we order another sandwich?”
“I bet Granny would make one if we asked.”
Dash and Scootaloo continued their conversation as they left for home.
Sweetie Belle closed the door behind them, and went to bed wondering just what had gone wrong with her sister’s date.