//------------------------------//
// And Nothing for Ourselves 
// Story: Everything for a Fantasy 
// by B_25 
//------------------------------//


Everything for a Fantasy
B_25


The machine hummed its repetitive buzz with the only deviation coming when my hooves ceased to feed the fabric into the threader. I was away with work, as I had been for the last few days, and the few weeks before that, and the few months before that, and the few years before that.

To add the word 'decade' to that list was far too scary of a proposition, and the idea of 'decades' stole what little life I still had to live. I hummed in substitution of the machine, both to redirect my mind from the fear of one day seeing a grey hair, and to try and drone out the stallion that had been shouting the whole time. 

"We are going to the Gala."

I blinked with a twist of my muzzle. "The Gala? Now, why would we ever want to go to that pesky old thing?"

"Do you not hear yourself speak!? Has your ear gone deaf from being pressed against that machine!" He indeed was a huffy one, although I couldn't recall his name, or if he was a lover or a client. Perhaps a mix? Keeping things in bulks does tend to save on time! "The event is an extravagance for romance! A chance to live, and to show others how well we are living!"

My lips pushed to the side as I folded the stitched fabric. "Wouldn't a note from the doctor work just as well, darling?"

His grumbling lowered his voice. "Either we're going, or we're over." My! He was one of those types, was he? Who in the high-class did I have the dishonour of sharing my home with? "Which one is more important to you? Being a mare, or being a fashionista?"

I sucked in my lips next as I set the article on a stack of different attires. It was a touch too early for philosophy. However, I glanced at the windows as the blackout blinds blinded me to the exact, current time. "I'm afraid that being a mare is something that comes naturally to me, while being a fashionista requires a little bit of time, effort, and talent and a delicate eye. All of which, if you'll forgive me, requires that I miss such events that aren't already seated in my tour."

The stallion spat and turned away.  

The wood of the door creaked, and the handle made a click. Hoofsteps followed, but stopped after a second. These kinds also needed to get in the last word, so I mentally plugged my ears. Hum, hum, hum, Dear Rarity.

"All those talks of wanting to be a princess, and once I offered you such a thing, you disrespect me like this." Another huff as he lingered. "How is a prince to show up to a Gala alone? What a mockery he would be! Much less for his family to be wearing the outfits of the mare who shamed him."

He walked out and shouted before the door slammed. "So you can consider our order—cancelled!"

The room rocked, and then it settled.

Finally, I twirled on my stool, facing the shut door. I was supposed to be feeling something here. In the darkness, alone, with only a candle perched on my table. Sadness. Anger. Irritation. But I was empty, tired, and overworked.  

And my mind fixated on the strangest things.  

So it was a client and a lover, after all.





The midnight streets of Canterlot were calm and barren in its underground passages. In the lower section of the disc, which was situated on the mountain, was the city's underbelly. Nothing as foul or dangerous as Manehatten deep into the night.  

But also not the kind of place where ladies and gentlecolts are supposed to go.

I reached the building of my desire and slipped through the wooden door. I was mindful that the coat that covered and dragged behind me did not get caught. It was a fine, tight place here. With a counter and a few tables, with a play area tucked into the corner.  

On my sides were stallions and griffons, yaks and even a couple of dragons, all moody and broody. I acknowledged the ones who glanced with a nod, giving them a wink from beneath the vast rim of my hat. None said or dared anything.

I'd been coming here long enough to make sure of that.

I clambered up onto the stool rounder than the rest, and still found my derriere overfilling the seat. My forehooves tucked beneath the warmth of my thighs as I tilted my snout up at the bartender. He nodded and went to fetch my usual.  

"So no contracts then? Nadda?"

That voice. It perked my ear. Looking across the counter, there'd been another dragon at the other side. He was dressed in a long jacket, with a sword strewn over his back. He wore his top open, and his tail snaked out through some rather baggy pants.  

His elbows rested on the counter as he stood, with his talons snagged through the handle of a mug. On the opposite side, the other bartender shook his head, as his shoulders slumped. "Sir... what do you take us for? This is Canterlot.”

"I know that! Just figured that, y'know, maybe you had a ruffian—or something like that." His awkward green eyes flickered around, as his expression to an adorable level of embarrassment. "Thief? Crook?" He gulped his drink, then slid the empty mug to the server. "Someone unwilling to pay their taxes?"

The bartender guided the mug over the counter and brought it beneath it. He refilled the contents before sliding it back to the dragon—pointing at him with a hoof as he did so. "Such types would and oughta be handled by the Royal Guard, don't ya think?"

The dragon pointed back with a lone talon. "Now, don't you go depending on them for everything! Back in the day, I was part of the crew that had to save this city at least three times!" He then made a fist and held it up, raising a talon at each instance. "There were the changelings! The guards were useless for that."

The bartender slumped onto the counter in defeat, but the dragon held his palm over the stallion's muzzle, continuing the count. "Don't forget the Crystal Empire! Useless there as well." Another groan, and yet the dragon went for more. "And Discord is a friend of mine, so let us not talk about that one."

There was the clicking of glass onto wood next to me, and the bartender delivered it with a nod. I leaned to the side, onto the counter, as a smirk stole across my features. With a clearing of my throat, I had attracted the dragon.  

Spike looked over at me from above the stallion, and he became as still as Discord's statue.

"Are you pressed to cover for those drinks of yours?" There was a deliciousness in my words, as a warmth spread through me; my coat started to burn, and I felt like a white sun. "Sit over here and share one with me, and you may consider your expenses paid."

His mouth opened, and it did not shut for quite some time.

The whiteness of his fangs glinted in the light as his forked tongue lowered from his lips, inching downward by the second, as it soon started to pool on the counter. The hammering of his heartbeat echoed down the tunnel of my ears. Either this was the surprise of seeing a friend, or the reaction of a reunion of someone a touch more than a friend. 

And the lingering life inside of me sparked to find out.

"R-Rarity?"

"I do hope that is me, darling." My smirk softened into a smile as I returned to sitting properly in my seat. "If I look any different from her, then I'll have to have my name changed, won't I?"

"N-No, no! Not at all! Nothing like that at all!" His tongue slurped back into his mouth as he stood to his fantastic height. Oh, whatever happened to the little goofball that was the size of a bowling ball? "You're the same! Exactly the same! Not even a wrinkle or a grey hair or anything like that at all!?"

My snout flared. "And if I were to have those things?"

Spike croaked and planted his back against the wall. He looked side to side for an escape and saw that there was none. "That... t-that it would accentuate your refined beauty?"

My smile had yet to die, about it accompanied an angrily amused expression. "Refined, huh? Certainly a fabulous way of dressing up the world old."

"You wouldn't be old!" He spat from his plaster against the wall. "You'd just be older!"  

My eyebrows raised higher, and his knees dropped to the ground.  

"You're perfect! Beauty itself! Please spare my life?"

"Hmm." I pushed my lips up as his claws smacked together in prayer. "Fine. But  you'll  be the one paying for the drinks, now."

He shot into the air from his knees. "That's easy!" He strolled and took a seat on the stool next to me. Fishing into his jacket, Spike plopped a pouch of bits onto the counter. On the other end, the bartender slid his drink back over—and Spike's claw caught it. "Thought I was a goner there for a moment."

I laughed in a hum on settling my eyes on my drink. I was aware of his presence next to me, of how tall and slender he was, the amount of taut space his existence stole. It was tickling to be close to someone so big, so strong, so... something. 

The corners of my lips twisted with a hint of satisfaction.  

"Thank the fact that you are a friend that you currently are not a steaming pile of ash." I cupped my glass with my forehooves, and brought it to my lips. I looked and spoke to him as I sipped. "Tell me, though, if you were not troubled for bits—"

"Why the hassle for a contract?" Spike finished so I could finish my sip, and he watched me from the corner of his eye. His side was dressed in a shadow, with purple scales arcing to the ceiling. They swirled around his neon-lit eyes. The dragon smirked. "I'm pretty set when it comes to most things. Even with that, though, I don't like to keep out of work."

I finished my drink with a grin to match his. "Liar.”

His mug slowed before his lips, and his eyes flicked back onto me. "We haven't been back together for longer than a few minutes, and you're already calling me names?"

I crossed my forelegs over my chest and struck my muzzle upward. "So you're telling me the full truth then, darling? I suppose I am in the wrong, and you are in the right, as the shame of this should be placed upon me!" Then I draped a foreleg over my forehead. "How could I be so insensitive and cruel to an old, dear friend!?"

Spike's mug hit the counter without a drink taken as he turned away. "Shit."

"Language!"

"L-Language! How come you get away with calling me old?!"

"An old friend doesn't mean that  you're  old. Just that the friendship has gone on for quite some time! That would be language for you, dear." Laughter blossomed from me, though I mostly held the stream in my chest. "And calling you old would still be a lie, as you are not set to die for quite some time."

Spike shrugged. "If a train hits me tomorrow, that makes me old today then, right? By that, uh, language thing of yours?"

I frowned and pouted and sunk into myself.  

"Right! Right! You caught my telling fibs." Spike lifted and downed his drink, wiping his lips afterward with a swipe of the back of his claw. "Twilight knew that I was within the region for the Gala this time. I woke up to the Royal Guards at my cave and was brought back here. Without a job, I'm without an excuse."

Someone else who did not wish to go to the Gala? And here I had thought I was the odd mare out. Or, in the words of that prince, the odd fashionista out. I'd gotten my fill of blinding camera, shaking hooves, and kisses on hooves from stallions I'd rather keep six feet away.  

"Whatever is the matter? No date to bring to the ball?"

"No, no." Spike shook his head and swirled his mug on the smoothness of the counter. "I could probably find somebody easily. Just..." He huffed, not in a way that was upset with someone else—rather, it was a huff at himself. "Some things are easier if they aren't spoken about, y'know?"

I lost my facade at his reveal of vulnerability. I too looked at my drink, and cradled it between my hooves. Holding it up in the air, I waited for him to join mine. "Something that I too easily know about."

Spike glanced over at me.

"So a toast to the unsaid things, then?"

Spike smiled and clicked his drink into mine, and we both slipped away into a numb paradise.





For the longest while, the dragon had been following me, and I wondered where the line between 'following' and 'stalking' lay. I decided that, once it reached my hotel, that I was officially being stalked. However, I never knew for a stalker to get in the same elevator as me.  

"This is rather much to be walking me to my door."

Spike blinked. "Why would I be going to your door?"

The elevator jostled.

"You mean to say that you are staying here as well?"

"Yes, ma'am." Then his eyebrow arched. "Are you?"

"But of course!"

We both stood a foot away, and he ducked a bit to keep beneath the ceiling.

Slowly, we glanced at each other.  

"You mean to say you haven't been following me this whole time?"

Spike swallowed. "I thought you just wanted to walk with me."

"Silently? But where is the logic in that?"

He shrugged, and his shoulders bumped the ceiling. "Mares do a lot of things that don't make sense, and I've found the best thing to do is to go along with it."

Laughter burst from my lips. "I ought to slap you for that."

"Please do."

My cheeks burned.

The elevator ticked, and the doors then slid apart. We were sent out into an infinite hallway with a smell you could only find in them. I walked on the left, and he on the right, and once again, we made no sounds. Soon we both stopped at a door, each across from each other, and we glanced at the other from over our shoulders. 

"Who booked your room, darling?"

"Twilight. You?"

"Miss Sparkle herself."

We looked away from each other.

The air was still so awkward between us, and I was not sure what should be said. I tried to look around me, to make out the details of the area. But nothing jumped out. Colours were lost on me. Before, there was life in everything, an essence even in a rundown motel. 

Either life was gone from the world around me, or it had faded from inside of me.  

I shuffled inside my door, and the dragon did so through his, after I had been the one to move first. Our doors closed and clicked in unison, and now I was alone. I clicked on the light to reveal the spacious living room. Mannequins were strewn in a circle with a machine left on the floor. I had an order for fillies, three little princesses from some distant, desert land.  

I was to match that land with the little ladies, and from that, let a theme blossom. Thinking with my mind had brought me no answers. Before, I thought with my heart, and my mistakes were correct. But now, though, I kept along, and hoped for the best from the process alone.  

I glanced over my shoulder at the door. Would it be wise to bring the dragon over for some tea and company? Perhaps he could assist in the creation, and that would spark some colour into this expensive room.

My barrel turned, but my hooves did not, and the latter walked me back to work.

Time had gone by enough for the moonlight to shine in through the window. I sat at the desk and worked with the hum of the machine. Lifting my eyes from the process, I looked through the window, and down at the hotel's courtyard.  

A lone figure stood in the night, slashing his sword downward, over and over, then doing so again from a different angle. I watched him work as my forehooves did the same by themselves. The dragon then sheathed his sword and flipped backward, shooting a claw to the ground to aid with the motion. He landed with a twirl, and drew the blade out once more.  

It was impressive, but I recognized the repetition.  

There was no life in his jumps or in his moves. No hopping between his feet, or wiping his lips with a talon. Not a joke or retort. He was on a routine set to perfection to aid in his improvement. I had no eye for fighting, but I saw enough to be amazed in my ignorance.

My heart started to beat in the feeling of seeing a hero.  

But a very tired, and a very dull hero.

I didn't see much of Spike down there. Of the little baby dragon who always had a joke or a quip to say. Some of him was there in the bar... but even that seemed forced. Even I was forced. What had happened to me? What had happened to us? Dulled by rightness and constrained into a routine. The proper track for improvement and consistency, to become what we dreamed of being... but what cost to what we were?

I flicked the switch to my threaders. Crossing my forelegs over the table, I sunk into them, and watched the boy train from over my wrists. Clearing my mind of thought, I took a breath, and started to breathe. 

The moon twinkled, and the sky was a faint, creamy shade of blue.





I blossomed back into consciousness with the limp stretching of my limbs, murmuring incoherence against the silk of the sheets. It ruffled beneath my decompressing form as my eyes fluttered themselves into the opening.  

My alarm clock had not gone off, for it was not set, and I was allowed to linger in the bed until my body had warmed up. I stayed like that for some time, nearly at a loss for what I should do. The usual routine was out of the question—without a client, I was without work, for even the best of my line was based on what was worn on my greatest of customers.

Which meant that I was left with a day or two off.  

It didn't take long to rouse myself from the bed into the shower, where the usual 'lady-care' was in effect. I went from water to make-up on my face. Then a few extra moments to pick fitting clothes for the time and the occasion.  

And I opened my hotel door the moment he did.

Spike stood across the hall and laid his claws on the frame, smiling, checking across the hall to see if we were the only coincidence. We were. And he looked back sheepishly. "Heh. T-Talk about timing, huh?"

I tilted my head in thought. "I don't suppose we're going to the same place at the same appointment, are we?"

Spike took to proper posture and tapped a talon on his lip. "Well, the Grand Galloping Gala doesn't start until later in the evening. I figure if I can score some trouble before lunch, I've got my ticket for not attending." He crossed his arms and then shrugged. "How about yourself? Wearing those frames so you can still sneak out?"

"I fear I'm more recognizable dressed up than I am dressed down."

"But I'm sure a lot of those ponies would prefer to see you dressing down more." His slap to his own face was enough to suppress my hoof from lifting. His other claw pointed at me. "That's a compliment. I promise you that's a compliment."

I grumbled with a roll of my eyes. "I suppose, even beneath the irritation, there is some pride in being objectified." I shook my head as I did not wish to continue down that route. Instead, I looked to the right, to the end of the hall with the elevator. "Though we should both be off on our ploys to escape from this arrangement."

Spike swiped a thumbs-up through the air. "Right back at ya!"

I smiled and took to the elevator, while the dragon turned, and went the other way with the stairs. My heart sank at his footsteps becoming echos, as my own slowed and softened. Soon I stopped in the middle of the hall. Then I glanced back at him.  

Only to find him glancing back at me.  

"I... perhaps it is best that I too take the stairs." I looked over my body and gave it a wobble, feeling the thickness that coated me jiggle with the motion. "It appears I've been putting on weight as of late."

Spike twirled around with claws raised in surrender. "Not at all!  I'm the one who could afford to take it easy! I might even profit from it too!" He started walking toward me as the pair dropped to his sides. "Besides, you're packing weight in all the right places."

My glare was icy cold, and my hum froze the hall.  

"Bad! Terrible! I am really awful at this!"  

I turned around and walked a few steps, clicking the button for the elevator with my hoof. I gestured my head forward, and footsteps raced behind and then next to me. The dragon stood, leaning on the front and the back of his feet. He started to whistle.  

Finally, I couldn't help but look up at him and ask. "Do I really still make you so uncomfortable, dear? Even after all this time?”

“Now that is a loaded question.” His lips spread in pain as his eyes bounced around. "But yeah.  You still send the heart for a whirl."

The doors slid open, and we passed through them, taking opposite walls.

There was a chime, and we were taken downward.  

And I had to learn more.  

"Surely, there must have been other mares in your life."

"Oh yeah, plenty!"

I glared at him, but it was softer this time, and he didn't flinch nearly as much. He coughed into a fist and leaned his shoulder onto the wall. "I mean, there's been a few girls, but none really consistent over the years. I'm popular in towns... but it doesn't help that I don't stay in the same town for long."

I grinned as I pushed him on his hips. "Look at you! The baby dragon is now a bachelor! Now tell me... wasn't that one of your boyhood fantasies?"

One of his eyes squeezed. "Kinda? Sorta? Not really." He scratched at his snout as the flooring slowed and stabilized. "It's nice being popular like that at first. But then it stops meaning anything, and the trips between towns are long and lonely."

I couldn't help but pur. "At least you have a warm filly's bed waiting for you on arrival."  

Spike chuckled. "I'd rather take the one bed at a hotel."

The doors opened once more, and we passed through them, across the lobby to the hotel entrance. It was hot, with the sun boiling in the sky. Ponies strolled the streets as we weren't far from the shopping district. Looking over at my dragon, I found that he was also looking at me.  

"Spike?"

"Yes, Rarity."

"Are you sure you will find trouble in Canterlot?"

"There's always trouble—it just depends on how great it is."

"Well... should you not find an excuse to keep you away from the Gala, and should I find the same to be the case with me... perhaps, in the gardens, we could meet... and attend the event together?"

His shoulders lowered. "Like a date?"

I nodded while looking away. "You would be my date. Formal date. Professional date."

"Everything but a personal date?"

"You were the one to say it, darling."  

"Well, a professional date is better than no date!" Spike chuckled and nodded. "Alright. Forget the trouble then! I've gotta get myself an outfit!"

I stomped in front of him at once with forelegs that were spread. I huffed and puffed upward at him. "You mean to say that you dared to attend... without the proper attire!"

"You can't blame me for not wanting to dress fancy!" Spike retorted by sticking his claws into the deep pockets of his jacket. "I usually have something to throw on when a king or whatnot is giving me an honour or something. But that wardrobe doesn't really work here."

I lit the magic of my horn and ensnared his frill with it, yanking it down as he bent with it. Spike waved his arms around as I pulled him alongside me, and we strolled back into the hotel together. "Good thing you've got a mare that does!"





"Keep still."

"I am still."

"You're breathing."

"I'm not supposed to breathe?"

"At least not for the next hour!"

"I need oxygen!"

"Then retrieve it in a fashion that I won't notice."

Spike gulped in air, and his belly expanded for it.  

"Spike!"

"Gah!" He exhaled. "C'mon! No way this is going to work! Why can't I just go with what I got!?"

"Because you will detract from the air of the event! This is a time where ponies get to feel like something more, a chance for a difference in the humdrum of their lives! Now is your opportunity to be dashing, to be charming, to be someone that you normally aren't!"

"If I'm not someone, then why would I want to be them now?" Spike shook his head and walked forward on the platform, and I backed away with a huff. He sat on the edge with his chin cupped in his claws. "I already tried being that kind of a hero. It's not fun! It doesn't work, and it's not me."

I let my tape measure lower as a fight was on a corner of my lips. I went to shout... but stopped and looked at him. I saw something that I hadn't for a while. A tingling within the soul that told of more than what the eye saw.

At once, I was drawn into the process, into the discovery of this mystery.  

"Don't move."

Spike lifted his claws, which he set behind him, and he leaned into. "What?"

I wanted to bark at him for breaking my request... only to find that he was more natural now than he was before. His chest pressed against his shirt, defining it, but also constraining him. His long jacket, if thinned with shorter sleeves...

"Oh... oh! Inspiration! It's been so long since I've felt you so!" I set my hooves on the dragon's thighs as I peered down his body, feeling it with my soles. The dragon flustered, wiggling beneath my touch—but not trying to escape it either. "Tell me. Your everyday clothes. Do they hold any significant value to you?"

"Other than how they keep me from being naked? No."

"Great! I shall tamper with them at once!" I stepped back and touched my hoof to the ground. "Now, would you be so kind as to get naked for me?"

Spike looked at me with a cocked eyebrow, but unfastened his belt all the same, which was the only thing that mattered. He dropped his pants, slid off his jacket, leaving only on his shirt. "I sweat I was supposed to be the one that was cracked."

"Hush, and off with the rest!"





The sky was darker and the air was cooler, and I could feel the perspiration of the grass beneath the soles of my hooves. We passed through the gates to the path through the gardens. Spike walked next to me, with a claw that tugged at his collar.  

"I think you cut this too low."

"That slice defines the line between your collar and your chest. It invites the eye without giving too much away." I hummed in a way that made him blush. "You should be thankful to be so well built! I did not need to design outfits meant to add to you, but rather had to shave away at your clothes to accentuate you!"

My rolling giggles bounded into laughter. "Oh, my." Then it ceased. "Perhaps my life's work was actually supposed to be sculptors."

Spike dropped his claw to his side. "Or dressing them up in clothes."

"Now, aren't you made of stones!"

"Har-har." He slumped forward. "I feel like a sailor washed onto a shore."

"But that is exactly the vibe you wish to give! Tell me you do not see it now!" My foreleg swept in the air as the pictures of the story flashed in my mind. "You've been out in the world, fighting trouble and saving princesses! Living off the land, adventuring across nations, much like being on a boat out in sea!"

"Ugh."

"Now something has happened for you to wash up here! This isn't your place, but for the present, it is the area of your stay! You bring the essence of adventure with you, handsome and formal—but not so formal as to be like everyone else."

Spike blinked. "You mean my kind of formal?"

"Exactly that, my dear!" I tittered to myself. "To look like everyone else is easy; to look like yourself, and still fit in—well, that is where the challenge lies!" My shoulders lowered with the pitch of my sigh. "With some, you can feel that essence, and it draws you to the work. With others... well, you just work, and hope an essence comes from it in the end."

The dragon scratched the side of his head. "I think I get it."

"Don't you have anything similar in your life?"

"Not really." We passed beneath branches of a great tree, with the rest of the path kept in their shadows. I looked up at my dragon as he was focused forward. "Roll into a town, find out what issues it has, help out with those issues, and then leave. Sometimes, in the more dangerous cases, I get knocked around a bit, and I have to learn something or grow stronger. Besides that... there's not much to it."

"Not much excitement in being a hero? Was that not your dream—your fantasy?"

We both stopped before the final gates to the castle, where two guards were stationed. We stopped little ways before them and turned to each other. Spike looked down at me, although his eyes flickered around. Always on guard. Always suspecting a potential threat. It seemed as though he never relaxed.

"I mean, as a kid, I thought it would be cool to be the wandering hero with a sword." He tapped the sheathed weapon in question, which added to his washed sailor look. His shirt was loose against him, while his trimmed jacket was tight. "Ponies would pay attention to you. There was always a quest to do. You could speak up, stand up for others, and just... be something."

I glanced down at my hooves. "I do recall one of your fears as a kid was being useless."

"Still is, in a way." Spike rubbed his snout with a swipe of his claw. "I'm not anything special. The work is unique and intense, and I might be strong and skilled for it, but others can do what I can do. Maybe even some who could handle it better than I have."

I started to laugh. Enough to turn away and cover my snout. I could feel his annoyance as he stepped out—but I waved after him. "W-Wait wait! Hehehahaha! This... this isn't at you. Just... just something that I've felt myself."

There was doubt and hesitation, but he stepped toward me anyway. "Really?"

"Of course I do, silly!" I finally dropped my hoof as the laughter came to an end. I fell in love with his adorable, puzzled expression. "I live in a world of fashion! Where my worth is dedicated by the success of my lines and the continuous supply of my clients!"

"Yeah, but like, you're Rarity.”

"Is she someone now?"

"Is she—of course, she is!" He smacked his own head as though he were the crazed one. "The most successful mare in every corner of the world! The first pony to be widely designing for yaks and dragons—both of which actually wear your stuff!"

He extracted his claws into the air. "Do you know how crazy that is? That dragons, who were always naked at every point of time before this, wear clothing because of you? And have enough respect to take their outfits off before they go bathing in lava?"

"Do they do that? That's rather thoughtful of them." My lips pushed together. "Although creating articles able to sustain the temperature of lava is a line asking to be created." I glanced down and pried a hoof at a patch of immaculate grass. "Through the use of magic would be cheating."

I then looked back at him. "But my feats will soon be replaced and improved upon by others. I am only in the know because I continue to grow." My eyes fell onto his collar, to the upward swell of his pecs, and I fell into the trap of my own magic. "When I cease to consistently produce, I'll fade from the stream, and will soon be forgotten afterward."

Spike lowered onto a knee and laid a claw on my shoulder. "Nothing lasts anyway! Isn't the important bit that you dressed ponies well now, and that you are a stepping stone for what may come afterward."

"Certainly a noble way of looking at that, Spike," I admitted. "But I'm afraid, in the art world, the nobleness that sweeps you into it is then stripped from you by it." I shook my head to the flounce of my mane. "Then again. Perhaps it's where I choose to place my focus is where I'll find the most peace in this regard."

There was then a tap on the side of my head, and a claw that was holding it. Spike's face was opposite of me, close, enough to feel his breath on my lips. I was being... touched. My fur... sinking beneath his hold. His talons traced over my skin, and let me know of all the places where I could still feel.  

"Rarity... are you okay?" Spike asked with nothing but sincerity. "I know it's been a while since we last met and all that... but you've been talking a bit stranger than usual."

"I have been?" I asked, and then the same words floated back into me as the answer. "I have been." I tittered in place. "Apologies, Spike. I'm afraid I've done nothing but... work, this last while. And it seems I've forgotten a bit on how to live."

Spike smiled, and pulled back, offering his claw below my muzzle. "Then how about we go to this Gala together, and relearn a few things, princess?"

And then I smiled too. "I would be delighted too, my prince."





We walked to the guards with less than a foot between us, and though I wished for him to cover it, the dragon inched closer than inched away in every step and sway. Wanting to attempt something, but doing nothing instead. He was always a bit of a coward.

Willing to spend his days back at my boutique, doing everything needed to win me, but unable to pass that line. He struggled to say those words, to risk that action, that tense moment that announced everything. So many stallions started with the offer without doing any of the work, and yet Spike was the opposite.  

The easiest part to them was the hardest for him.  

And perhaps the vice versa was also accurate.

"No swords or weapons of any kind permitted on site."  

We stopped before the guards as their weapons clicked and crossed over the entry in the gate. Their eyes paid me no heed, but their glares rested firmly on the dragon. I couldn't help but smile at this injustice and wondered just how long the drake had been away from home.  

"Sorry," Spike began with a bow forward, allowing his upturned eyes to rest on them. "But this beauty on my side is my plus one."

"It's dangerous," one calmly barked, "and not to be permitted on site."

Spike glanced at me as I figured he would have. I was already groaning and rolling my head as his joke began. "She? Rarity might be dangerous to us, but she's typically harmless to other mares—unless it relates back to us in some ways."

I coiled an eyebrow. "And just how would you know, mister dragon? Maybe I've harmed a filly back in my room?"

His jaw dropped—but he was quick to recover as his face shot back at them. "See? The mental imagery of her in a bed with another mare—heart attack, right there!"

The other guard stepped forward. "Either the sword stays, or you do."

Spike drew his sword, and the guards aimed theirs at him, but he laid the weapon on his palms and turned it to me. "How'd you like to take it as your plus one, and I'll catch a nap by the tree?"

"By order of Princess Twilight Sparkle, I command you—"

"And just what order might that be, dear guard?"

I was right to catch the tone of Celestia, but wrong to expect for the mare herself to appear, as someone lavender strolled out instead. Twilight stepped out from the shadow behind the gate with her chest pressing into the crossed weapons.

They withdrew their weapons and bowed, and I wondered if it would be insensitive to tell Twilight, after all these years, that she reminded me of a purple giraffe. There was no time for such a comment, as the troubled guard raised his head. "The order to not allow any aside from the Royal Guard to bear arms."

Spike rested a claw on his shoulder and began the process of tearing it off. "Let me just get this off for you then!" He grunted and pulled, a kink popping in our ears. "Though I do get to keep my shoulder, wrist, and claw, right?"

I shook my snout upward as my eyes rolled in the same fashion. "Such a horrible image."

"So much for unconditional love for a friend."

For a friend.  

Nice one, Spikey.

"The removal of your limbs will be unnecessary, sir Spike, captain of the Royal Guard." A princess rarely demonstrated emotion, but even her, the smile that trailed from Twilight's lips couldn't be put back. "You do know he is one of the guards? Responsible for scouting out the lands, of aiding foreign friends, with the necessary clearance to do as he feels is required?"

"A g-guard?" The stallion was an ant between giants, set between Twilight and Spike, those high masses. He glanced at me for assistance, but a simple shrug was all I could offer. "I-I knew his relation to you. But g-guard, he was..."

"It was a long time ago! And something to be kept under wraps." Spike ceased in tearing off his arm as to reach a claw into the inner pocket of his coat. He flashed out his identification. "Of course, if you had asked if I had the proper clearance first, and then rebuffed me, there would be a little bit more legitimacy here."

"But it sounds like you made that difficult for my guards," Twilight said as she walked to her dragon with only a step between them. They nearly looked made for each other, considering their roots, in all the ways they had equally grown. Yet I was down here, small, but great in skill and company... or so I hope. "Did you have to tease them?"

"Guards need to keep to form, regardless of panic, danger, or absurdity." Spike slipped the item back into his pocket. "You cannot get distracted by anything."

Twilight looked him up and down, bunched her lips, then nodded. "Point taken."

"But..." the guard dared to step in that little space between them, and the giants were forced to look down. He stumbled in place, swallowing. "What reason would he need to bring a weapon to the Gala? Don't you have faith that the guards could handle any such problems?"

"That's not a good way to look at things." Spike shook his head and lowered to a knee, wearing a loose smile. "A long time ago, at the royal wedding, the changelings had infiltrated and then attacked the castle. It's our duty to prepare for the unlikely. Unknown ponies bringing in weapons would impact our ability to defend, but a dragon with a lifelong loyalty would help in that."

The guards paused.  

"You saw me with a weapon, and you fell for my goofiness," Spike went on with a light shake of the head. "You looked at me without thinking. Why would a dragon be this comfortable pulling all this? Is he for real or is this a ruse? You also know that two of you couldn't take me, and not one of you devised a plan in case I might have been dangerous."

The guard glanced down.  

"Princess Twilight might have you bogged down with rules of engagement, and those are things to follow as long as they fall within the parameters of the current situation." Spike laid a claw on the guard's shoulder. "But you need to be able to adjust when things don't fall into a textbook. Those tend to get burned the moment a true dragon exhales fire."

Spike then stood with a salute. "Now  don't let this happen again, copy?"

The guard saluted. "Sir, yes sir!"

"Return to your post."

The guard bowed to me, the princess, and then returned to the gate. The three of us gathered and then walked through it, continuing to the garden beneath the castle on the path that led into it. We were several feet away before Twilight started laughing. "You just had to bully my guard, didn't you?"

"You're too tight with them." Spike shook his head. "Out there, they'd be left spinning in every way possible."

Twilight fixed a stare on him. "They're not being sent out there, Spike." Her voice lowered too, and I thought it best to keep silent in this. “Their duty is here. With these ponies, in this place."

"They keep the peace and ensure the system here works as it needs to, sure." Spike then shook his head. "And my fear isn't them being sent out there, but what happens when what's out there is sent here."

Twilight was silent for a moment. "Your texts on such creatures and outside behaviours are widely read here."

Spike shook his head. "Knowing where to slice and what to do for an attack doesn't prepare you for the real thing." He sighed. "And I barely found those out by thinking on my feet and acquiring Intel from outside sources."

"We have powerful pieces."

"They might not be around forever, and we  don't know all that is out there."

"Just what do you suppose I do with my guard?"

"Let them think for themselves and then test them out. There are simulations that could be induced with magic that—"

Twilight stopped and laid her hoof on the dragon's mouth. She drew a deep breath, closed her eyes, and then cleansed herself. Finding herself a moment of peace, she spoke from inside of that upon lifting her hoof. "Forgive me, Spike. I didn't mean for this to delve into our usual arguments. I haven't seen you in years, and it wasn't my intent for us to pick up where we left off."

When Twilight's hoof lifted from Spike, I could see the flash on his face, the fight whether to continue or squash this. It seemed as though there was a switch in him. This whole time, I had felt above him, able to tease and push him like when he was younger.  

And then this hardened, experienced side came out, something of which there was a little hint to and that he felt little need to show. I could have gone on knowing that he hadn't changed much. Yet, in the glimpse of all that he had become, I found myself intrigued and amazed.  

Then he smiled, and relaxed. "It's been a long time, Twilight." He stepped forward and wrapped his arms around her neck, as she brought a foreleg over his shoulder.

Twilight's head rested on the side of his neck. "Same to you, mister."

And then her other hoof snagged around me, and I was brought to their knees in the hug. "And you as well, Miss 'I Don't Return Letters.'"

I couldn't help but blush. "I fear I've been rather busy... although that doesn't contend much with a princess, does it?"

Twilight smiled and said nothing more as she stepped back—with me still joined at the dragon's kneed. "It's good to see you two again. It's... been tough without my friends." She looked to the side, blushing, with her hoof pawing at the ground. "I'm able to handle it, of course! But without friends, life is... well, let's just say it isn't as much fun."

Both of our shoulders sank.

She then looked at us with a smile. "So let's make up for it with today, okay?"

We both smiled and nodded.  

"So... you two then?"

Spike blushed and tried to step back, but my hoof was already wrapped around his leg. He coughed, and stood like an awkward, leaning tree. "D-Date! Friend kind of date! Found each other at a bar. T-Then we shared a room and—h-hey, how'd you know we would show here?"

And there's the goof I've been waiting for.

Twilight smirked and looked at the stars overhead. "Those are some pretty pricey rooms, Spike. The moment when someone doesn't arrive, I cancel them, and save some bits for the treasury."

I glanced up at Spike. "If I knew that my taxes were paying for those rooms, I might have been more inclined to come earlier."

"Same."





The entry had been wonderful with the three of us catching up, before the rest of the girls made a show, and we all had a little drink in the back of the castle. Sooner than I would have liked, we all fell apart to our respective groups, and the dragon and I were seated at a table overlooking the ball.  

We were brought our wine and our food, with a candlelit between us, and the other tables far from us.  

"You certainly have a switch."

Spike looked up from his spaghetti. "How do you mean?"

"You're good one second," I went on, "and then you're commanding the next."

He shrugged, and slurped up the noodles. "It's better to be loose until something requires you to tighten. The reverse doesn't work as well." He then shook his head. "Twilight thinks trouble's over for now. But she doesn't know what's out there."

"But it's been five years since our greatest threat has been cast in stone!"

"What happens if they're broken out? Or someone stronger comes along?" Spike went for another collection of pasta. "You girls have been stuck in the same place for so long; all you see and feel are the same things. Out there? There's always something new, something different."

He went to lift the fork to his mouth, though lowered it once it reached his lips. "There's so much to comprehend, and even then, you're only on the edge of it. This world is big, and we haven't even reached the other side of it. I'm the only one out there keeping an eye out for us, the moment I kick out, well..."

Now I smiled. "It feels like it all falls apart without you?"

Spike could barely shake his head. "I know there's someone out there, stronger than me, better than me, that can do what I do for me." He sighed. "But I haven't met them yet. I'd like to get out of it, if I could. At least for a little bit."

I levitated my glass of wine. "And what will you become after that? Your fantasy was to become a hero... didn't you sacrifice everything for that?"

"Couldn't you say the same of yourself?"

"Indeed I could."

"And how is the reality of your fantasy?"

I sipped my wine because I needed to. "I am what I set out to do, and I..."

There was no answer to that question.  

Spike looked down as well. "I thought I was useless without this. That I needed to become bigger, stronger, and better. That once I became that, ponies would notice me more, that I would become something." He sighed heavily. "Now ponies see me as something, and although it's nice, it doesn't mean much." His eyes closed. "Nothing means much of anything, anymore. All I do is do. And it's..."

"Simply not worth it."

"You saying that to me or you?"

"How about us both?"

We both leaned our glasses in for a toast, and drank in that celebration. Slow sips and a raised glass before the biting warmth of the drink began to loosen us from within. Once the glasses were returned to the table, we sat there for a while, listening to the silence.  

"You know, this would have been my fantasy as well."

I looked at him. "In what way?"

"You and me at the gala." Spike looked around at the extravagance that surrounded us. "On a date, drinking wine, before we went out to dance. It would be perfect and magical, and there would be fireworks as we kissed."

I couldn't help but roll my lips. "And do you think there wouldn't be fireworks if you were to kiss me now?"

"Only that I know the reality of what would happen if there were fireworks." Spike slumped back in his head. "I'd get startled, and jab your face with my snout."

"Haha!" The laughter escaped me easily. "I must admit, that reality tickles me a bit more!'

"I promise you that jab won't be tickling."

"In a certain way? It would, Spike."

Is this what the two of us had become? Two creatures that went on doing due to a distant dream and process set long ago? Where was the love and the life that caused us to desire others and things restlessly? That wanted us to bubble and bustle in the acts that caused life to be worth living.  

Just when had we become machines? Following a routine, suppressing ourselves in doing so, all to attain some distant fantasy that would make sense of everything? I was skilled in design, and world-renowned for fashion. Beyond seeing others in my clothing, and my reflection in the windows of my store... what was left of me after that?

Even on my greatest success, there wasn't much left of me to celebrate.  

"Would you care to dance, Spike?"





We reached the Gala and were a single couple among many, and although my date stood higher than the rest, he lowered onto all fours, all so he could dance with me. The music was slow, and so were our hooves and our feet.

Spike looked at me with scales a darker purple and eyes as deep as a delicious green sea. In my fantasy, I wished for every eye to be on me, to see how much of a successor in love that I was. It wasn't so much what I had felt, but rather how much others had validated it.  

But that desire, after the strain of work for it, had been removed by it.  

Spike took me into a twirl, and his arm supported my back as his face leaned beneath my jaw. He then pulled me back, and we returned to our usual footing. I couldn't help but make a comment. "It seems as though you've run low on words, Spike."

He smiled as his claw raised, and I twirled beneath it. "It's because I don't have much to say."

I returned to face him as his claws held my hooves again. "Is this not as great as you once had wished?"

"Not at all." We tapped from side to side, in great sways that took us backward. "Only that I enjoy this, and I like you."

"In what way?"

"In whatever way you like me."

"Very much."

"Then I like you more than that."

"Liar."

"You doubt me?'

"Only in the way that question was your way to outbid me."

"Because I get more in return than you do."

"How can you be so sure?"

"Because even after all this time, and even with all the fantasies washed away, that the reality of being with you is still better than anything else." Spike laid that without a stutter, for he was tired, tired of everything, and could only speak and do that which was genuine. "It's not because we're at the Gala. Just... being with you allowed me to be how I usually was. You said that there was a switch, but the truth is I'm more of the dragon I was with Twilight than I am the one dancing with you now."

I giggled as his claw wrapped around my waist, something that no longer shamed him, as I ceased to be a great thing in his mind. "And would you believe that I am less of a mare without you around?"

He chuckled back. "Maybe Twilight had a point. Without friends, we cease to live, and just become working things." Then steam shot from his snout. "But maybe even this is too good to be true."

I nodded. "It was always a dream to date a prince and become a princess, but the hollowness of such wasn't worth it." I shook my head as our dancing nearly slowed to a stop. "So much of what I worked toward turned out to be not worth the effort. I don't dare to dream or fantasize about anything else, for it only takes me on a path of torment to the descent of disappointment."

Spike nodded.

But... I wasn't content to let it end there. "But maybe, if fantasies are to be short-lived, that we should make the most out of this? To drink in as much of this good feeling as we are able before we are forced to return to our places in life."

Spike didn't need to answer as his claw found the back of my head, and he brought it to his shoulder, which I rested upon. We enjoyed each other, a lot among the crowd, no longer caring for anything beyond us.  

We weren't much of a pony or a dragon, but in being together, we were able to feel something.





When we reached the elevator, I was backed against the wall, and the dragon had his snout buried in my neck, sniffing and kissing, licking and nipping. His claw went through my mane, turning it into a mess. I wouldn't allow such an appearance to stand, but then again, my appearance didn't stand for much, anymore.

We left after that with me going out first, and I made sure to sway my hips, doing so not out of habit. The dragon chased after me, his head bouncing to my sway, and I was sure both of us were sloshed on the wine.

Once my hoof was pressed on the door, though, he broke out from his trance.  

His frown caused my smile to grow.

"Would you care to come in for a bottle of wine?"

He smiled, and I opened the door, and he went on through.

I passed as well, closing the door, locking it, so that there was no escape.  

"And by the way."

Spike turned around to face me.

"I'm all out of wine."

And then I pounced after him, as the door to the balcony washed us in the moonlight.





I awoke beneath the covers to feel something smooth stroking through my mane, and I wiggled backward into the naked dragon, loving the way he curved over me. Sunlight was gentle on my face and across the bed as the blinds were titled to allow a faint amount in.  

"Did you sleep well?"

I twisted enough to look up at his hovering face, and I leaned up high enough to peck him on the chin. I then rolled over so I could face him. "Considering it's the first time I've slept in since forever? I very much think so."

He shrugged. "And this is why I don't fish for compliments anymore."

"You're already a walking compliment," I returned, "and this bed is so much better with you."

His smile faded. "And I prefer your bed over the blanket I keep in a cave."

"Such a shame you couldn't stay in the same place for long."

"And it sucks you can't come along to all the places that I visit."





The end of the weekend had meant the dull return to my life, and as I was set for the train back home, the dragon would set for the gates of the castle. I would ride, and he would walk, and soon we would be a world apart.  

I would be in the city, working and crafting, attending stores and mentoring students.  

He would be in the world, travelling and fighting, helping ponies and recording needed information.  

So it was quite a surprise that, when I left the train to the city's gates, I saw him walking back. Both of us slowed as he stood outside the walls, and me, behind them. The gate was opened, but we did not meet in the place in-between.  

"I... well, hello... I..." It was the first time I was without words, and I couldn't help but look around as though there was some trick being laid upon me. Seeing nothing but us, I returned to exactly that. "I thought you would have been far gone by now."

"I-I should be, or w-would have, at least." Spike rubbed at the back of his neck, massaging his spines and looking around. "Figured you'd be on a train back home. Y'know. The one that leaves in a few minutes."

"F-Forgive me, but... did you plan on coming along?"

"At least for a little bit... but how come you're here?"

"Well... you're always speaking of how dangerous and different the world out there is, and I figured I could use some new inspiration."

Spike slumped forward, and scratched beneath his frill next. "A-Are you sure about that? It's tough going from cave to cave, city to town. It gets tiring, and those places can be lonely."

I shrugged and looked down at my hooves. "So long as I could be with you, I think I could handle a dirtied mane." I smiled and blushed a little. "Natural baths are excellent for the coat, I'll have you know." Then I shook my head and looked up at him. "But what of you? Wouldn't working the same job, on the same course and route, well, drive you to madness?"

Spike stepped forward, and so did I. "It would be tough at first, yeah. Dunno how well or for how long I'd be able to do it." He then looked down at himself. "Don't even know if all that I spent my life trying to acquire would even be useful in that kind of world."

I giggled. "I fear I might be at the same disadvantage as well."

Silence. None of us moved away. Neither of us became closer.

And then an idea came.  

"Spike... when is the last time you took a vacation?"

He blinked. "Do we get one of those?"

I thought about it as I looked to the blue sky, resting a hoof on my chin. "It's not as though I have to check in with anyone. You work by the contract, do you not?"

"That I do... but if I don't take them... then maybe.. there's a chance...."

"Perhaps we'll leave that space vacant in the world, and allow it to draw someone else?"

I could hear in the distance the chugging of my train, as the ride back to my world was over.  

Spike stepped through the gate and into Canterlot. "Where do you suppose we'll go?"

"How about a beach?"

"A beach?"

"Yes. Perhaps a resort of some sort? Spend a few weeks gathering back the life we expended on work."

"Think I have the bits to make that work, yeah."

"Although, there is a chance things might not work out between us."

"Always that chance... but spending the day on a beach with you, drinking a coconut... that sounds really nice."

"Perhaps that's all we should focus on, without expectations, and allow things to come to be."

"That sounds perfect to me."

And so we took our vacation, with his claw holding my hoof, leaving our lives without proper notice. It was not an intelligent thing to do. Nor was it wise. But we simply went on a faint feeling, hoping that it would take us somewhere. It wasn't chasing after a fantasy, but rather a following to something better.