Chapter Twelve
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Spike gaped at the woman standing in his front doorway. She was the most beautiful hung-over person he’d ever seen. Not that he'd seen many hung-over people, but he assumed they looked worse than this.
She was wearing dark-washed skinny jeans and a cream-colored tank top. Her make-up was perfect, her hair was pinned up (soft purple ringlets hung next to her ears), and her eyebrows were only slightly more drawn together than usual, showing no signs of a headache It was like she didn’t even feel it. Spike was impressed (and very much in love with her on whole new levels).
“Rarity, wha— what are you doing here?” He asked, completely taken by surprise.
Rarity sighed and closed her eyes for a moment before opening them again. (Damn, he’s still there, Spike imagined her thinking, holding back a smirk at his own stubborn refusal to disappear.)
“I-I’m terribly sorry to just turn up suddenly like this, but I thought... well, I thought we might have a word.” Rarity said softly. “May I come inside?”
Spike wavered. “I don’t know if that’s such a good idea... Twilight isn’t here right now...” to bail me out if things get too intense.
Rarity drew in a breath. “Actually, that might be better. It’s more of a private word.”
“Right.” Spike mumbled. He opened the door wider, relenting, and Rarity stepped past him into the front hall.
He caught a wisp of her lavender scent as she passed him, and thought back to the moment in her office when her hair had brushed his cheek as they kissed. He forced down the memory, determined to focus. Rarity was no doubt here to confirm the very conclusions he’d made earlier in the library.
He just hoped she let him down easy. He couldn’t handle any more heartbreak this week.
“Um, can I get you anything to drink?’ He asked nervously, leading her to the living room. (Being around Rarity always made him nervous. He didn’t mean to look like a fool in front of her, but he managed to do it anyway.)
“No, thank you.” Rarity took a seat on the couch, and looked up at him expectantly. He sat down next to her (but at a respectable distance).
“First of all, I... I want to apologize for last night.” Rarity said, looking at her hands in her lap. “And now I want to tell you why... it happened in the first place.”
Spike watched as she tucked a purple curl behind one of her ears. He’d been wondering all day why she was at Berry’s Punch. It seemed he might finally get some answers. Maybe then Twilight would stop blaming him for everything.
“After I kissed you,” Rarity continued. “I... well, I was ashamed. I never meant to push myself on you. It was wrong of me.”
“Rarity, I—“
She held up a hand to stop him. “Please, let me finish. Then, you said you loved me...” She smiled, the same smile she’d been giving him for the past few weeks, the one he craved so much. It was nice to know it hadn’t changed, even if so much else had. “I’m sorry I told you to leave. I needed to be alone with my thoughts for a while, and that led to drinking, I suppose... which is why you found me at the bar.”
Spike’s heart sunk. “So it is my fault.”
“No, no, Spike, darling, of course it’s not!” Rarity exclaimed, grasping his hands. “You have been nothing but sweet to me, and though I honestly don’t remember much of last night, I know that you were the one who took me home when I was in a dark place. Thank you, so much, for that.”
“But?” Spike whispered, afraid to hear what he knew was coming next.
Rarity sighed. “...But I had reasons for being in that dark place. I’m an adult, and you’re a minor. It’s technically illegal that I kissed you. If anyone finds out, my reputation as a designer would be destroyed!”
Spike decided those might not be bad reasons. He hadn’t even thought of that, though he supposed he should have. He suddenly felt bold. What had he got to lose, now? “So why did you kiss me, then?”
Rarity looked at him, and his heart soared, because he could see the answer in her eyes, and this time, he knew for certain it was real. “What I said last night is true.” She said softly. “I love you, Spike.”
Spike couldn’t help himself. He leaned forward and put his hands on her waist and they were kissing again, just like in his dream. Granted, this time they weren’t in formalwear on the dance floor of a Canterlot gala, but, hey, he couldn’t have it all, right?
“Spike,” Rarity whispered, pulling away from the kiss but keeping her arms around his neck. “This could never work, we couldn't do this, we could never be public like this... you know that, don’t you?”
Spike shrugged, his breathing shaky. “We don’t have to be public. We can... we can be a secret couple! No one has to know. But I love you, and I’m not going to stop just because a bunch of judges decided it’s wrong. ”
Rarity smiled, his fingers running through his hair. “I love you, too. Just don’t tell anyone, okay?”
Spike laughed, and kissed her again. “Okay,” he murmured. “So, if we're together now — secretly, of course! — does that mean I get to kiss you all the time, then?”
She shook her head. “Only when we’re alone. But then, as much as you want.” She grinned. “Leave time to breath, though, okay? I wouldn’t want to lose you after I went through so much trouble to get to this point.”
“Trouble?” Spike scoffed, teasing. “I spent years pining after you, and you never even noticed me.”
Rarity blinked. “Really? Years?”
Suddenly afraid he’d said the wrong thing, had freaked her out, he swallowed and tried to backtrack. “Um, well, sort of, yeah...”
“I’m sorry.” She said softly. “I didn’t know. But you have all my attention, now.” She smiled and kissed him. (He would never really get used to this, the whole kissing-Rarity thing, but he knew he liked it, and didn’t want it to stop.)
Spike glanced at the clock. “Oh. Actually, I think Twilight should be getting home soon...”
“Oh, right.” Rarity said, slipping out of his grasp. “I should be heading home, then.” She stood there for a moment, just looking at him, unable to keep a smile off her face. “Okay, I’m really going now...”
Spike smiled back, and followed her into the front hall. As he opened the door for her, he realized he had just one last question. “So... what are we, exactly?”
Rarity straightened the strings of his hoodie, just to be closer to him. “To the world, we’re just friends, and I’m sorry about that, but I can’t have it any other way. But to us... we’re...” She struggled for the right words. “You’re my love.” She murmured, and kissed his cheek.
He watched her walk away (she had very nice legs, even trapped in those skinny jeans) and thought that even though this was new and exciting and frightening, and he really wanted a label to make sense of it all, to finally be Rarity’s love... well, that was enough.
That would always be enough.