//------------------------------// // Chapter 24 // Story: Swapping Scales For Suave // by Jest //------------------------------// “You know I think I’ve finally kicked the hangover I got at the Pink Rope,” Spike remarked, the unicorn pausing to take a bite out of a piece of jam-covered toast. “Sheriously. That headache didn't go away for daysh.” “Don't chew with your mouth open dear,” Rarity interrupted. “And yes. I don't know how but I drank enough that even your dragon heartiness couldn't handle it.” The dragon then went back to brushing her teeth, pausing after a few scrubs to grab a new brush due to her current one losing the last of its bristles. Spike gulped. “I’m just amazed that you wanted to go to a place like that. I never would have thought you’d go there, not in a million years.” “Well, I was with the boys as you call them, and that is what one does for their bachelor party,” Rarity exclaimed. Spike chuckled. “Yeah, I guess. I’m just happy we arrived at like, the same time. As soon as I got there I started feeling bad and wondering what you may think.” “You have a bit too much of Twilight in you sometimes, dear,” Rarity opened her mouth, revealing her sharp pearly whites. “I have always said that you may go to such places if you wish. I trust you after all.” “I mean yeah, but it's one thing to say you trust me and another for you to actually go to such a place yourself,” Spike replied. Rarity hummed thoughtfully to herself, her gaze sweeping over the bathroom, a list forming in her mind. Teeth cleaned, mouth washed, scales scrubbed… Rarity nodded to herself, and turned back around, tucking the towel tight around her waist. The dragon then stepped out into their hotel room, the luxurious but not overly large space lit only by a pair of lamps, and the moonlight. The gentle glow of that distant orb filtered in through the three large floor-to-ceiling windows that allowed them to look out over Canterlot. The view was stunning and could be seen even better from their attached balcony, though Rarity ignored it for the moment. Instead of gawking at the scenery, she looked down at Spike, who was lying on their bed, a sandwich levitating in front of his face and a book in his hooves. “How many times have I told you not to eat your nightly peanut butter and crystalberry jam sandwich on the bed?” Rarity asked hands on her hips. “Oh, it's fine, see? Twilight taught me this spell to keep the crumbs off the sheets,” Spike replied. Rarity watched as her partner shook his snack, dislodging a few bits of bread, which were caught by teal glow and deposited on the plate sitting on the nightstand closest to him. “That is… genuinely convenient,” Rarity admitted. “Anywho,” Spike began, placing his book aside. “How crazy was that night, eh?” Rarity fell into the bed next to her partner, a smile coming to her face. “It was quite something. I never thought I’d see Fluttershy drink so much in one night,” Rarity exclaimed. Spike erupted with laughter. “She was hilarious! You’d think that she would have only asked one pony to marry her that night.” “I’m so glad she didn't remember asking Pinkie Pie and Big Macintosh to marry her,” Rarity murmured. “I don't think the poor dear could take such embarrassment.” “They did seem a bit disappointed though,” Spike pointed out. “I’m sure those three will figure it out,” Rarity declared. “Or how about how Twilight actually got up on stage and totally busted out that crazy routine? I never would have expected something like that from her,” Spike added. “Huh. I feel like I’m saying that a lot lately.” “How did she even know how to pole dance in the first place? The poor dear isn't exactly the type to learn such things,” Rarity inquired. Spike smirked. “She only told me this after, but apparently Trixie said something about how she used to go to a strip club so Twilight taught herself in secret.” “That poor dear. I really do hope Trixie gets her metaphorical act together. It's obvious they are crazy for one another,” Rarity remarked. “I know right?” Spike shot back. “I thought for sure Twilight would be the one to make Trixie finally let go of her irrational fear of marriage.” “And it is irrational,” Rarity stated. “I mean, if you already love someone that much it's only natural that you’ll want to get married.” “Totally,” Spike replied. The unicorn stuffed the rest of his sandwich in his mouth and chewed noisily. Next to him, Rarity stared off into the distance, barely aware of how uncouth her partner was acting. Once his snack was done, and its remnants swallowed, Spike hopped off the bed suddenly, producing a small box from the end table. “Whelp, I’m gonna have another of these clove cigars that Big Macintosh gave me,” Spike announced. “Again? Didn't you just have one?” Rarity asked. “That was like, five hours ago. Besides, these aren't habit-forming. They just smell good and give me a chance to hang out on the roof,” Spike replied. “If you’re going to do that I may stop by the lounge for a nightcap before bed,” Rarity exclaimed, rising from the bed and casting aside the towel around her waist. “Got a taste for the suds now, huh?” Spike teased. “I must admit that nothing relaxes quite like a sweet white beer,” Rarity admitted. “I’ll see you in a bit then,” Spike remarked before slipping out the door and heading to the left. Rarity wasn't far behind, though she went right, heading for the elevators. While his partner headed down to the main floor, Spike propped open the fire escape door and slipped outside. A short clamber up to the top of the building later and the unicorn was on the roof, though he wasn't alone. Among the pipes, vents, fans, and the building’s water tower was an older earth pony stallion wearing the garb of a janitor. “Dammit, why is someone up here,” Spike murmured, the unicorn turning back around. “Don't worry, I ain't about to report you or anything,” remarked the older stallion. “Why don't you come sit with me.” Spike looked from the kindly older male, to the door and back again. “Aww what the heck. Sure I’ll join ya old timer,” Spike agreed. The stallion patted the top of the metal box he was sitting on. “Then, pull up a chair,” he offered. Rarity reached the lounge and settled in at one of the many empty seats present near the bar. The place was almost completely empty, without any wait staff visible. The dragon glanced down the long bar, and then back the other way, searching for someone to serve her. When she looked back the other way a young dark-furred mare with a long, straight mane appeared only a few feet away. “How may I-” “What the hay! You just about scared the pants off me,” Rarity muttered, a hand clutching at her chest. “Apologies. I am quite stealthy,” replied the mare. “So, what may I get for you, ma’am?” “Whatever white beer you got on tap,” Rarity stated. The strange dark-haired mare nodded and produced a cup from nowhere. She then deftly filled it up and placed it before Rarity with a slick, smooth motion. “There you are, madam. Is there anything else I may help you with?” she asked. “No, that's quite alright,” Rarity declared. “Perhaps just a bit of company then? You seem to have a lot on your mind,” inquired the bar operator. “I…” Rarity sighed. “Am I that obvious?” “Its like you’ve got a giant red sign saying ‘Ask me about my day’ hanging above your head,” the bar staff member answered. “I get married tomorrow,” Rarity began. “A bit of the jitters then?” inquired the mare. “I suppose. My concerns feel so small though,” Rarity admitted. “My sister once told me to keep a keen eye on those small problems lest they turn into mountains while you aren't watching,” offered the mare. “Your sister sounds very wise,” Rarity added. The mare smiled. “She is.” Spike sat down with a thunk and produced his cigar. “You mind if I smoke this? It's just cloves.” “By all means, though only if you don't mind that I join you,” replied the old stallion. Spike looked over to see that he had produced a pipe from seemingly nowhere. “Sure thing old timer, go right ahead,” Spike answered. Together the pair sparked their smokables, took a pull, and began to relax, or at least tried to in Spike’s case. “You’re tense,” stated the stallion. “What's wrong?” “Well, it's just…” Spike hesitated a moment. “I get married tomorrow.” “The cold hooves. It’ll get anyone,” the stallion remarked. “Have you been married before?” Spike asked. “More than a few times unfortunately, I’ve been a bit blessed in that department, though the universe seems quick to take them from me,” the stallion muttered, though there was no bitterness in his voice. “I’m sorry to hear that,” Spike remarked. “Don't be,” interrupted the stallion. “That's old news. Tell me what's bothering you.” “Well. It may seem kind of silly but I can't stop thinking about… What if… what if she's not the one?” Spike asked. “Do you think she is?” inquired the stallion. “Of course I am. I’ve never even loved anyone like I’ve loved her,” Spike professed. The stallion nodded slowly, pausing to take a puff of his pipe, slowly exhaling a large ring of smoke that floated off into the night sky. “It seems to me as though you’re real concern is that you don't have experience loving anyone other than her,” he remarked. “I mean…” Spike frowned. “I guess?” “You think to yourself, what if she's not it, what if this is just puppy love or something like it,” continued the janitor. “Since you don't have more experience you wonder if you can even know for sure if she is the one.” “Wow, I never thought about it but yeah that's exactly what I was thinking. How did you know that?” Spike inquired. “I’ve had those thoughts myself before. I married a handsome stallion after only a few months of dating and worried endlessly on the night before the ceremony. And you know how long we were wedded? Eleven blissful years,” the stallion exclaimed. “Huh,” Spike muttered. “But enough about her. What's on your mind, ma’am?” inquired the waitress. “Just… jitters I guess,” Rarity murmured, clutching her drink tightly. “Everyone has them, I think.” “True, though not everyone comes down to the bar to commiserate on the night before their wedding,” retorted the mare. Rarity winced. “Fair point.” “So, do tell. What is really on your mind?” she pressed. “I am concerned that marriage may change me,” Rarity remarked. “What if I lose my muse and can no longer create?” “Why would that happen?” pressed the waitress. “I don't know. Maybe it just saps the joy from me, or maybe it just makes me into a different person,” Rarity replied. “Do you think your partner would make you miserable?” she pressed. “No,” Rarity admitted. “Do you really fear change that much?” inquired the waitress. “No, not really,” Rarity repeated. “Then what is your true concern here?” asked the mare. “I guess… I guess it really has to do with my parents,” Rarity admitted. “I’m worried I may end up like them.” “And what are they like?” asked the waitress. Rarity paused, and took a long swig from her glass, enjoying the cold sensation as it cascaded down her throat. She then placed it back down on the bar with a soft tink. “They hate each other,” Rarity finally announced. The waitress nodded. “So that is what you are truly worried about.” “So you see young sir. You can never really know that kind of thing for certain, no matter how many relationships you’ve had as even after my second marriage I had the exact same concerns,” the stallion declared. “Huh, I guess but like, what if we fall out of love?” Spike declared, throwing up his hooves. “Our lives would be ruined, we’d have to move, we’d never be able to see our friends again because that would just be way too awkward.” “Hold on,” interrupted the stallion. “Why do you think you will fall out of love?” “I mean, I don't think we will but what if we do?” Spike pressed. “And what if a meteor falls out of the sky and hits you square in the face right now?” asked the stallion, pointing up at the night sky. “I…” Spike frowned. “I don't get it.” “What if in six seconds from now a huge gust of wind blows you off the building, and you break all your legs and have to spend ten months in a body cast?” he continued. “What does that have to do with anything?” Spike demanded. “What if Discord comes back from vacation, snaps his fingers, and makes your legs into rocket ships?” asked the stallion. Spike recoiled. “What are you talking about? None of that would ever happen.” “But it could. Why not worry about it?” asked the stallion. “Because it's impossible. Sure it could happen but it doesn't mean it's likely and…” Spike paused. “Oh, I get it now.” The stallion nodded slowly. “No one truly knows the future, not even the princesses or our resident god of chaos. My mother told me that worry was the foulest ingredient in any relationship.” “Your mother sounds very smart,” Spike remarked. “She was,” agreed the stallion. Spike took a long drag off his smoke, and then crushed it against the roof, snuffing it out. “Thanks, old timer. I think that was exactly what I needed to hear,” Spike declared. “Happy to be of help, you little whippersnapper,” he retorted. Spike chuckled. “Well, I’m gonna get back to her now. Have a good night.” “You as well, sonny,” replied the janitor. “And I don't mean like they want to kill each other or that either of them are abusive,” Rarity hastily explained. “It's just that there is a reason they’ve had a dozen honeymoons and were barely a part of Sweetie Belle’s life.” “Your sister, I presume?” prompted the mare. “Yeah,” Rarity answered. “They learned while raising me that they hated one another, and had little skill when it came to child-rearing. Sure they love us unconditionally, and would likely give us the world if we asked but the moment they slowed down was the moment they started arguing.” “Busyness is often employed as a distraction. In a relationship, work, or just interpersonally,” added the waitress. “And they took it to a whole new level. I seriously haven't seen them slow down since I was twelve,” Rarity continued. “Why do you think you’ll end up like them?” asked the waitress. “Because I’m my mother’s daughter,” Rarity admitted, sipping her drink. “I don't know what I’d do with myself if I didn't have some project, design, or plan in mind twenty-four seven. If I stop moving, if I stop doing stuff I feel like I’m going to explode.” “But he doesn't have that same problem,” prompted the mare. “Well, no,” Rarity muttered. “He is actually quite, zen as they say. I don't think he's ever had such a worry before in his life.” “So, then already you two are not like your parents,” added the waitress. “I mean I am, but he isn't. What if that's enough?” Rarity asked. “Ma’am would you be okay if I told you something that may be a bit upsetting?” asked the dark-haired mare. “I suppose,” Rarity murmured. “That belief is irrational,” she declared quite matter-of-factly. “But that's just who we are. People no matter who they may be, have irrational beliefs and worries.” “I mean it's not that irrational,” Rarity whispered absently, the dragon staring down into her drink. “Do you think that any of your friends would end up like that?” pressed the pony. “Well no-” “Then it is only because of your connection to your parents that you believe it's a possibility that you will end up like them. Yet last I checked I didn't think there was a gene for hating your partner,” declared the waitress. Rarity chuckled. “I suppose you’re right.” “There is always the chance that you end up like your parents, but it's never guaranteed or even likely,” concluded the waitress. Rarity tossed back the last of her drink and stood up. “You know what, you are right. I think I’m going to go back and enjoy the night with my fiance.” “Enjoy,” the waitress replied. The old stallion waited patiently atop the roof, listening to Spike walk back the way he came, the door clanging shut behind him. Once gone, the stallion stood up straight and trotted over to the edge of the building, tensing his muscles briefly before jumping off. He hit the stone ground a moment later with a powerful thud, though the impact barely seemed to phase him despite his apparent age. He then trotted out of the alley, and onto the street, where he was joined by a long-haired mare. Neither said a word to one another, though they walked next to eachother for nearly a block. Only when the hotel was out of sight did the old stallion break the silence, chuckling softly. “You were right Lulu. They did need a bit of a push,” he remarked. “I told you, dear sister. Their dreams told of strange, irrational fears. Ones that a steady hoof could banish,” retorted the mare. “And here I thought you just wanted to break out our old disguise spells from when we were kids,” he exclaimed. “That part is always fun,” admitted the mare. “True. Though next time you’re the old man, and I’m the young, hot-looking mare,” he declared. “I suppose it's only fair. But that is for another time, come, let us go mess with our night guard. They have been acting too formal around me,” exclaimed the mare. The stallion chuckled. “Lead the way Lulu.”