//------------------------------//
// Intermission One: Spike and Sunset. 
// Story: No One For the Gallows But Me 
// by Coyote de La Mancha 
//------------------------------//

It was afternoon by the time the friends left the used book store. Thus, sunlight was still streaming warmly through the windows as Spike paused in his reading, sniffing the air happily. He leapt from his bed and hopped down the stairs, book forgotten, happily bounding his way to the kitchen.
“What'cha cookin', Sunset?” he called. “It smells great!”
Sunset smiled. “Breakfast for late lunch. Eggs, bacon, frozen waffles. Hungry?”
He grinned. “Always.”
As a dog, of course, Spike's diet was one that Twilight had carefully researched. Before he'd gained human speech and intelligence, dog food had been the standard, with occasional human food snacks.
But now, with Spike being a person in all the ways that mattered, Twilight had calculated and formulated his ideal diet regarding human food with the care and precision of... well, of Twilight.
Sunset, meanwhile, had been of the opinion that an occasional splurge from a carefully constructed diet was generally a fine thing. And Spike had been of the opinion that this made Sunset even more awesome.
Twilight, for her part, had ultimately acknowledged that when Sunset and Spike had argued for Spike's right to autonomy with his new sapience, they'd had valid points. And, reluctantly, she'd admitted that this included control over his own diet. Spike, in compromise, had agreed that the dietary needs of a dog were not identical to a human, and that Twilight's calculations should at least be borne in mind.
Sunset fixed a deep plate with scrambled eggs, a waffle with butter but no syrup, a handful of strawberries, and extra low-salt bacon. Then she filled a bowl halfway with water and brought both dishes into the living room, setting them gently on the sofa. While she re-entered the kitchen, Spike hopped up, sniffing the plate happily.
“Wow! This smells delicious!”
“You can dig in if you want,” Sunset called over one shoulder. “You don't have to wait on me.”
“Aw, that's alright. I don't mind.”
Perhaps a minute later Sunset emerged with her own plate and a glass of juice, sitting in the nearby easy chair, plate in lap. The two of them ate in a contented silence for a while, until Sunset finally spoke.
“So, anyway, sorry we didn't take you along today.”
Spike took a drink to wash down the last of his egg, and sighed.
“It's okay. I mean, sure it stung a little, but Twilight told me why you guys were in a hurry when you got back, so, it's okay.”
“Plus, the timing,” Sunset nodded. “Between heading Sunny off and then getting everybody to Lectern's...”
From where he lay on the couch, Spike sighed again.
“I know,” he said. “Twilight told me the whole story when you guys got back, before she locked herself in her lab.”
“Yeah, she's pretty stressed,” Sunset admitted.  
Rising, she gathered their plates, adding, “We all are, really. But seriously, I am sorry. And I know Twilight is, too. But we'll keep you in the loop from now on, I promise.”
“Thanks,” Spike said as he scratched behind one ear. “On that note, though, can you guys put in a landline for me? I know it seems old fashioned, but...”
“...but it would give you a way of communicating with the rest of us, and vice versa,” Sunset finished with a nod. “And an old-fashioned phone you could control with your paws. That's a good idea. We'll get you an answering machine, too. Something with big buttons.”
The dishes went into the sink, with a quick spray of water. Then Sunset smiled, crossing her arms as she leaned on the kitchen doorway.  
“So, you got plans for tonight?” she asked. “We're rehearsing later, you're welcome to sit in.”
“I'd love to,” Spike grinned.
He hopped off the couch and trotted to the door. As he reached the screen he paused, adding, “Seriously, though... thanks for letting me in on things. I know it must seem silly, but it means a lot. Before everything changed, Twilight used to take me everywhere, even school. And now... I mean, I don't know how much time I have left, and I just want to be there for you guys. You know?”
Still smiling, Sunset nodded. “Yeah, I know.”
“Great! I'm gonna go chase squirrels. Call me when you're ready, okay?”
“Sure. See you then.”  
Sunset turned to enter the kitchen, then froze. Even as the screen door slammed closed after the dog's departure, she turned back, her expression stricken.
“...Spike?”