//------------------------------// // One if By Land: Part 1 // Story: Spike of All Trades // by Ariamaki //------------------------------// "Aaand that's when I passed out! Sorta undercuts the big heroic moment of self-actualization, but it turns out Skill Synthesis kinda kicks my butt." Twilight's gaze over her coffee mug was incredibly unimpressed. Normally she tried to avoid the stuff due to what we’ll call ‘Prior Incidents’. That was normally: As soon as Spike mentioned having a second Discord-centric dream, one that happened weeks ago and yet he was only telling her now? She'd gone straight for the burr grinder. It wasn't like Spike had meant to keep it a secret from her for that long... But 'the day of' had been the party, so that was right out. Then he'd gone out to the AAAArcade, then the Warrens, then to Lyra... There definitely hadn't been a good place to bring it up during the whole magic training thing! Which had been pretty much their last two weeks of interaction in a nutshell: Quiet meals, magic training, or doing their own separate thing. It was kind of nice in its own way, but after he was 100% certain he didn't have any lingering side-effects from the health drain? She had to find out. "So to reiterate: You got your new horn-magic abilities after having another dream with Discord. Whether it was an actual projection or a personal delusion is immaterial to the conversation, so let's not even get sidetracked with that again. You then proceeded to not tell me for weeks, ran into a problem that directly impacted your health and maybe threatened your LIFE, and then you only said anything after finding a solution and handling the problem yourself?" "...Yes, that about covers it." His (word-not-found) swooped in and hugged him with a smile and a giggle. "Gosh we really are family: You think Mom and Dad are going to count that for the Disaster Chart?" "Easily! I mean, you never managed to melt yourself from the inside out-" "-not for lack of trying. Remember during that one school break when I tried to make the Gelatinous Form spell from O+O?" "PFFT, yeah I kinda forgot about that one. How much did you manage again?" She glared daggers at him. "We both know the answer to that." "Humor me. It never gets old." Twilight heaved out a sigh. "I managed to jellify most of the hairs on my coat and ended up looking like I was shorn for the better part of a month. In the dead of winter." Spike snickered alone in the face of her straight-faced disappointment... Up until they both broke down laughing. The stress and worries of the past little while flowed out dissolved, although maybe precipitated was a better metaphor? The anxiety was already in solution and now it was escaping... Eh, not actually relevant. "Well, one more thing for the pile to explain when we meet with Celestia." He didn't even bother raising an eyebrow at the lack of 'Princess' this time. "Speaking of which, I am glad we didn't make this talk too protracted: I have an appointment." "More martial studies with Lyra?" Spike chuckled as he got up to head out. "Nope! I'm getting fitted for an old hat." "Don't you mean a new-" He left Twilight with a wave and a quip on his way out the door. "Said what I meant, meant what I said!" - - - - When he arrived at Sugarcube Corner, Spike couldn't find Pinkie Pie anywhere. It was only when Mrs. Cake behind the counter gestured out the back door that he understood. Pinkie was probably doing some work in that new personal space she'd gotten, where the two of them had worked on the zacahuil tamale back... back when this all began. Was it weird to feel nostalgic for a thing that took place earlier the same year? Time felt strange lately no matter how he cut it. He nodded his thanks to Mrs. Cake and made his way through. It wasn't until later that he found out Mr. Cake closed and locked the door behind him, going so far as to put up the Employee Only sign. The two of them smiled at each other and went back to work, but Spike never saw that himself. The shed-like space ahead had a light on even this early in the day. A soft snatch of music was floating through the air as he came outside, quiet but just loud enough to level out the noise of the morning crowd behind him. The music grew louder as he got closer, so out of reflex and instinct Spike started walking more quietly to let it cover his movements. When he reached the door he found a record player on a small end table, its horn turned to point into the shed's open window. The horn also blocked any view of the interior... but the door was left ajar, just barely open. Spike spared a glance at the record jacket on the table before he entered: Whether by luck or by Luck or because of Pinkie Sense, the lyrics hit as he crossed the threshold. I think I'd cry If you touch me one more time Pinkie Pie was dancing, floating through the air on the tips of her hind hooves. The dress flared around her with each movement... The dress. The dress, because of course she still had it and of course she'd wear it today. That saloon-style pile of fluff and lace still hugged against her and kept time with her dance just like it did years ago. His hat from that same song-and-dance routine sat in the corner; resting on the arm of a plush couch beneath a makeshift chandelier. Well I guess that I'm going to cry No matter what Her skirt bounced and flicked through the air with each movement, falling down as she dropped to all fours and rising back up when she stood tall. Pinkie's eyes were closed and her head bobbed slowly to the beat, even if her dance was fast and frenetic. Spike almost couldn't believe his eyes as he watched the way she moved, sinuous and lithe and graceful... Strong. In this private moment she was showing a different kind of Pinkie than he'd ever seen before. [Piteously Pining Pink Party Pony] Pinkie Pie LV 23 In more ways than one. Pinkie smiled to nopony in particular before swaying her way into another movement. It was rare that he ever got to see ponies dancing outside of Heartsong or the stuffy orderly things they did in Canterlot. This had a very different feeling, a passion that was somehow both matched to the music and completely distinct. It fit in a way, but only because Pinkie Pie made it fit. She leapt with a manic grin, springing up into the air with the sudden uptick of the chorus. LOVE! Soft in the air Ponies think love is everywhere The music being played was purely instrumental, but her voice layered in like it was made to fit. Her free hooves moved down the lines of her body as she moved, hips flaring and tail wagging in the air. Even as lyrics and instruments both wound down, Pinkie kept a measure of energy in her dance. Pace by pace it carried her towards the door, she kicked the hat up off of the couch... They think I'm always pleasantries and food You know I just want to be understood I've got a match: Spike let the hat settle down on his head. The music came to a sudden silent stop. Pinkie opened her eyes and looked into his. "Hey." "Hey." He panned his vision from Pinkie, to the candles, to Pinkie, to the (very conspicuously out-of-place) couch, to Pinkie, to the door that swung shut behind him... But always back to Pinkie. "Spent some time planning this?" Her giggle caught him off-guard with how simultaneously sweet and tired it felt. "You have no idea." "You'll have to tell me about it sometime later." Most ponies hated trying to walk backwards, but Pinkie Pie made it look effortless as she strode back to the couch without breaking eye contact. "Later?" "Much later. I think talking is on hold for a bit." Her tail-end bumped up against the cushions on the couch, so he took the chance (more like his cue) to step closer. "I dunno Spike, I'd imagine if I'm gonna be quiet then you'd be doing a pretty poor job-" "Mmmh. Or a really good one." Spike had a feeling she was going to reply with another song reference, but the first line didn't clear her lips before he lunged. - - - - Hours later, the two of them were still cuddled together on the couch, lazily tracing patterns on one another; Spike's claws barely digging into Pinkie's fur, Pinkie's hooves gliding across his scales. They hadn't gone far enough to call this the afterglow, but they were unquestionably exhausted... The aftermath then. In the aftermath, each of them luxuriated in the presence of the other alongside the candles burning low in the afternoon heat. "Spike?" He looked up at Pinkie's worried grin, both of them a little bleary-eyed. She took a deep breath in... "I really enjo-" "I love you." Pinkie restrained a shocked gasp but couldn't restrain her full-body shiver: He felt that where their bodies were pressed together. "Spiiike." "What? You were going to say it too." "I was gonna say a bunch of other stuff first! You don't just put a gift in a box without padding it first, that's like an uninflated balloon or a cake with no icing!" For all that she was vocally complaining they hadn't stopped staring into each others' eyes, and he could clearly see the curve of her smile in his periphery. "Are you really comparing packing paper to icing? That seems pretty un-Pinkie." "...Bubble-wrap, maybe. Pegasus stuff is amazing sometimes." "I can get behind that. I wonder if they could make a version of it that's edible?" Pinkie's eyes crossed briefly and he could almost hear her thoughts spinning up and into action. "...No distracting me, mister: We're having a very serious relationshippy conver-type-sation here!" "I didn't think 'serious' was either of our jams. And who would know better about jams?" "I mean there is that one stallion who lives out by the Acres, but-" "Oof yeah no, I forgot. Who else would know better about jams?" He watched as she prepared to reel off an entire list of fruit-preserves experts, and timed his boop to land right on her muzzle as she started. Her words sputtered out, but that was when the trap got sprung: Spike had not considered their changing relationship when he made that move. Rather than just accept her boop in silence? Pinkie leaned up and slurped at his claws, pulling them between her lips with a sweep of her tongue. "Mrrf?" Deep steadying breaths. Four by four, four by four. It's a game, don't let her win... Make it a draw. The claws of his free hand went from lazily tracing across her back to digging in just hard enough over the ridges of her spine, sliding down and along. This time when she went cross-eyed it stayed that way, and her grip parted enough to let him retrieve his claws. "Truce?" "...Do that again." He obliged, and they whiled away another hour or two without any further questions.