//------------------------------// // Mistakes at Dawn // Story: Thick Scales // by Doxkid //------------------------------// That beautiful April day was quickly shaping up to be a wonderful night, the warm spring air incensed with the aroma of roasted fruit and specially prepared vegetables. Around the library the normal bustle of busy townsponies was reduced to the near silence of a calm village evening as most ponies finally retiriedto their homes after long and busy days. Even Peewee was almost behaved, perched -- relatively -- quietly upon Spike’s shoulder and only occasionally fluttering forward to nick a beak-full of Spike’s food as they ate. For once Twilight did not have a book levitating beside her or even a pile of note cards to review. It was just them, all of Spike little family, eating their fill with no regard for thousands of etiquette rules that high class Canterlot ponies worshiped more than Celestia. Also Owloysius was present, skulking over on his own area of their small round table picking through a bowl of seeds and tiny cubed fruit-bits. “How is it?” Spike asked before spearing a roasted tomato from his tongue. With a careful flick it was dunked in his bowl and rolled against the thin layer of gem granules amassed there, collecting a dazzling array of mineral dust along its every side. The stunning way certain facets of amethyst and peridot caught the light as his tongue lifted the tomato from the bowl, each crystal scintillating against the contrast of a half-burned fruit, was unfortunately lost on everyone present as Spike wreathed the treat in his tongue and snapped the whole thing up into his mouth. Lingual mobility restored, he continued speaking as he chewed. "I couldn't really bring out the full flavor of your stuff without emeralds so I had to guess for a few things," he apologized, trying to keep the tomato remnants in his mouth as he both ate and spoke. If Twilight had any issues, be they with with his manners or the food, she didn't voice them...probably because her muzzle was buried in a bowl of vinegar soaked, flash-broiled beets. "Tw-eet!" Peewee chimed in, voicing his approval and begging for more treats as slyly as he was able; Spike reflexively sliced a cherry-tomato with a claw and placed it besides Peewee on his shoulder, instantly appeasing the bird with his offering. It wasn't quite one of the cupcakes sitting at the center of the table but Peewee made do with it. “Mmhm. Mmm hm mm mmm. Is-guud” Twilight answered, refusing to come up even to breath as she worked through a serving that most ponies wouldn't even be able to lift. 'Just as planned.' It would only be a matter of time before Twilight slowed down, overstuffed to the point of agreeability and then he could spring the whole ‘working for Applejack’ thing on her. Idly crunching into at a raw carrot -- one of the few things he didn't cook as part of the bribe -- Spike awaited the perfect moment to spring his attack. Opportunity struck when Twilight sluggishly finished what would probably be her last dish of food, her body drooping slightly, her stomach bulging and her ears falling to relaxed positions pointing behind her head; all classic signs of repletion. “You know, I don’t really have much to do around here most...of the...time…” Twilight nodded along with his words right up until her magic finished filling a bowl of candied carrots and brought it before her. The moment the food hit their table her interest in his words vanished; she dove right back into gorging herself, her body still slack, her stomach still bulging and her ears still limp. ‘How is she still eating?! It’s like I don’t feed her! Wait...’ She would forget, wouldn't she? Even after him begging her to remember, it was just the kind of thing that could slip her mind. “You didn't eat lunch, did you?” He accused, glaring across the table at her. Her ears snapped straight up, then slowly moved back down to a loose and natural position as her eyes peeked up to meet his for the first time since he announced their meal was ready. She knew he had seen that but she also knew that he knew that she knew he had seen that. The complicated charts and plans she was mentally conjuring to get away with her misbehavior may as well have been carved right into their table; he couldn't understand any of it, but at least he knew that she knew that he knew that... Slowly she removed her muzzle from the bowl and wiped it down with a levitated napkin, her eyes never leaving his. “What makes you say that?” she asked. Spike considered just chastising her but the desire left him almost as quickly as it came. He had to outsmart her. He needed to win no matter what the expense, if only just this once; how else could he prove himself to her? How else could he stand with pride or earn Twilight's respect? Through what other outlet could he display his progress into adulthood to the most important pony of his life other than Rarity? Likewise Twilight needed to outsmart him. Invoking Celestia's wrath would shatter her being, bring ruination to a lifetime of prodigal study, crush now cherished bonds between her and those she loved. Even considering the prospect of her misbehavior being discovered could very well be her undoing. Pony and dragon each settled to look deep into the other's eyes, a deep craving for victory resonating between them. This would be the truest contest of wits a dragon and a pony could possibly hold. Sensing of the budding distraction, Peewee dove into Spike bowl and set to bathing in the mixture various juices washing over mineral remnants from Spike’s evening snack. Spike and Twilight both noticed -- it would be rather hard not to, what with the baby phoenix chirping and splashing like he had discovered the best thing since diced apples dipped in hot sauce with extra honey -- but they refused to distract themselves from the staring contest to discipline him. "Hoo?" Owlysius anxiously watched the phoenix as Peewee dunked himself under the juice completely and then breech the surface happier than ever. In fact the only way the baby phoenix could enjoy the situation more would be if he was also receiving the doting affection only an immortal being would have time to provide...or if he had a nice bit of sugary goodness to munch on; a Pinkie Pie cupcake, for example, would be perfect. With the first option out of reach, it being the only reason he could misbehave in the first place, Peewee set out to fulfill the second with determination that would make any parent would proud. “Well, you're eating everything I cooked,” Spike stated pointing at the stack of empty dishes beside Twilight with his half-eaten carrot. “I have a healthy appetite,” Twilight shot back. Peewee fluttered his drenched wings in the direction of the dessert at the center of the table giving everything within a large area around the bowl a shower to go along with his bath. "Hoo!" “That was at least ten bowls, wasn’t it?” Spike asked rhetorically. Undeterred by the failure of his wet wings, Peewee stretched and jumped until he latched onto the edge of the bowl. With purchase against the smooth surface secured he then vaulted over the edge; he was racing for his sugary goal the moment his drenched body hit the table. “It was only eight. You made quite a few of my favorites. Besides, how could I resist such wonderful cooking?” Twilight answered without missing a beat. No one commented as Peewee took a few nibbles out of a soft pink and yellow cupcake before dipping his foot into it. After a few seconds of struggling he tore a generous chunk of it away and, with his prize in tow, hobbled back toward the bowl. “You haven’t eaten this much since after the last time the world almost ended!” *Tap* Neither Spike nor Twilight blinked as Peewee pecked at the bowl, trying to lunge up into his cherished bird-bath without releasing the pastry piece held in his foot. He fell quite a good distance short of the goal, ending it with a the sound weighted down with the bird's annoyance. "HOO!" *Tap* A brilliant idea took hold in Twilight; Spike knew every sign of inspiration she had and, even though she tried restraining herself, there was just the slightest hint of a self-satisfied grin under her focused stare. Still it was her turn, so he let her begin a sentence that would almost certainly bring her the victory they both sought. "Actually-" *Tap* Another failed attempt. "Actually-" *Tap* And another failure. *Tap* And another still. Twilight and Spike came to a simultaneous agreement: getting to watch the spectacle would be well worth putting their debate on hold for just a little while. With the contest of will on pause everyone around the table settled down -- though Spike had to lean to the side a little -- and observed lunge-peck-jump after lunge-peck-jump of their baby phoenix. *Tap* *Tap* *Tap* *Tap* *Tap* *Scritch-scratch* He almost made it that time. *Tap* *TapTap* *tap*tap*tap*tap*tap*tap* "Twe~!" With that frustrated yet adorable exclamation Peewee gave up on returning to his bath and instead went to work on his new snack, occasionally flicking his head to random parts of his body so he could strain and drain a feather with his beak. "Who? Hoo." "Well then," happy for the distraction -- and the chance to better collect her thoughts -- Twilight levitated the wayward bird off the table, snack and all, placing him onto a freshly conjured towel; Peewee either didn't notice or didn't care, nibbling away with tiny bites that made no visible progress whatsoever. “Speaking of catastrophes, are you trying to fatten me up or do you just want something? Because I am not ordering the new edition of that My Proud Humans comic book for you if that’s what you’re after. Comics are barely worth reading without all of that ‘human’ nonsense.” Spike did his best to not to show disappointment; Julius Caesar and Mark Anthony were only a comic or two away from challenging Pompey for his throne and Mark’s fights where always so cool…but no. He was obligated to help Applejack even if it meant a such a grim sacrifice. Even if it meant missing the initial release and having the plot spoiled for him by random ponies passing by. Even...even if it meant he would have to wait a week or two if he wanted to find out whether Cleopatra was really going to come back to life in time for what could be Mark's final battle. “I don’t really want anything, really.” Twilight’s look of disbelief made it clear she had found the half-finished order forms he started filling out a few days ago. “Ok, ok. I do want something but that isn’t it,” he corrected. Twilight smiled a little but continued staring him down. “Fine, I also want that! I was just gonna beg for it later, ok?” Finally her grin won out over her accusing glare and she laughed to herself, “We’ll see. So, what do you want then?” “Applejack asked me to-” He started… “-Watch her apple stand in the mornings?” “-Watch her apple stand in the mornings.” …they finished together, barely out of sync. Now it was his turn to stare in disbelief as Twilight spoke. “Of course you can, silly. I’m sure she would really appreciate your help.” Glancing back down to her bowl Twilight nudged at it with a hoof - probably judging whether she could pretend Peewee’s bathing spray didn't reached it - while Spike continued to stare incredulously. Twenty or so seconds, marking another freshly filled bowl slain by Twilight’s insatiable appetite, later she finally gave into her cravings and continued eating from the dirtied bowl. Across the table Spike still stared with his mouth agape, struggling to comprehend that he had just four hours preparing a full banquet he didn't need. The roasted fruit? Fried veggies? Unnecessary; simple and easy, but unnecessary all the same . The rapidly baked gnocchi that he struggled with for who knows how long before he got it just like Twilight's mom made it last summer? Wasted. He didn't even like cheese. Twilight barely liked cheese. There probably wasn't a single pony in Ponyville that actually liked cheese enough to care that there was a specifically prepared progression in it's type and taste; Twilight's Cutie Mark in concentric patterns, not that anyone cared. It was all a complete waste. That stressful rush-job he did on foods that were suppose to marinate or chill for hours? By Celestia, it was almost as pointless as the dealing with the cheeses. Twilight was busy munching away at yet another part of his masterpiece when she finally noticed him still staring, his jaw hanging open with a half asked question on his lips. “Yes? What is it, Spike?” “You KNEW?” Twilight’s horn gave off the slightest hint of purple light at his question. In the distance he barely heard a brief, but all too familiar sound: a quill scratching against paper. It didn't last long enough for her to be taking notes either. The sound was sudden. Abrupt. Almost like someone marking an item off a...no, it couldn't be. “You made a list for this?!” “Organization and schedules are both very important Spike; lists make it easier to maintain the order both of those create. Besides, I needed more data for a…let’s say ‘study’ of mine,” her eyes positively sparkled with mischief as she said this and then lowered her head to continue eating, only to pause for a moment and raise it back up to address him again. “This tastes amazing by the way; you've really outdone yourself. You did an especially nice job with the pattern in the cheeses.” Her smile was endearing and her words warmed him, but he wasn't ready to forget her transgressions quite yet. “Yeah, yeah. Flatter me all you want, but-” “Oh, I wasn't flattering you. I was just thinking about how much Rarity adores stallions that can cook; she would be really impressed,” Twilight announced, before returning to her meal like she had just ended the conversation. Like it would even matter to him if his lovely lady Rarity...liked...oh... Oh. ... 'Don’t fall for it, don’t fall for it, don’t fall for it, it's just a trick, don’t fall for-’ “Really?” Spike did his very best to ignore Twilight’s horn glowing yet again as she glanced up from her food coyly. Hope valiantly bludgeoned common -sense into submission just in time for him to not notice the sound of quill against paper. “Of course," Twilight stated, "but there’s one thing she really, really likes.” Spike pointedly refused to acknowledge Twilight barely suppress a giggle mid-sentence. “She absolutely.” Twilight lowered her voice slightly; unwittingly, Spike leaned forward to better catch her every word. *Giggle* That one she couldn't hold back. Still, Spike was enraptured so she proceeded the moment her composure was somewhat restored. "Positively.” Here she leaned in a little as well, glancing to and fro conspiratorially like some hidden stallion would burst out of a potted plant and run off to woo Rarity with the secret she was about to impart. “Loves,” Twilight paused one last time to flash him a cheeky smile which he returned exuberantly. Satisfied with how things had proceeded, Twilight summoned another bowl and returned to her feast. “…” He waited for the last few words to come with half of his body draped over the table, his tail flicking to and fro with excitement. This would be it. This would be it. All those months of pining were not in vain; Rarity's heart would finally be his! Their love would be the stuff of epic poems! “…” Any moment now. "..." Slowly Spike realized Twilight wasn't just pausing for breath. No, she was neck deep in food. Literally. Bracing the almost overflowing pot of Okróshka - which he still couldn't pronounce to save his life - against the table, Twilight guzzled the chilled soup down like she had was eating for twenty. Spike’s limited self-restraint lasted through all forty breathless seconds of her draining the container, right up until she finally upended the pot to catch its last few precious drops on her tongue; with all the understanding he could afford to her the young dragon exploded at his keeper. “Well, what is it?!” Twilight glanced over to him as he screamed, her eyes far too innocent for a mare that had just ended a sentence where she had. Or a mare who had just eaten enough soup to feed half the royal guards. She took another ten seconds to savor the soup before finally answering. Kind of. “What is what?” Twilight asked, the tiniest hint of a smile working its way through her mask of ignorance. “The secret! Your secret! Rarity’s secret! Whatever Rarity really likes!” Picking up on either Spike’s enthusiasm or the hints of amusement leaking through Twilight’s facade, Peewee trilled along with Spike’s shout before dipping his head back down to nibble at the cupcake chunk he still hadn't finished. “Oh, that? Are you sure you want to know something silly like that?" Spike could only beg wordlessly, too excited to speak in an intelligible manner. "Well, I suppose if you really want to know I can tell you.” Twilight levitated another bowl over. “She really loves...” Twilight paused to gulp down the contents of the bowl on the table. “Assistants who…” Twilight practically inhaled whatever was in the next bowl -- which had not been lucky enough to even reach the table before falling to her mighty hunger -- before calmly setting both empty vessels down in the pile that had gathered on her side of the table. "Do the dishes on Monday nights even though it’s somepony else’s turn.” “Really?! Oh, this is so awesome!” With all the focus of a fledgling Court Mage Twilight reigned in all signs of emotion, initiating a series of complex mental calculations based on ancient --and technically incorrect, but only because of the limited accuracy of the equipment those ancient ponies used --thaumaturgic principles to buy herself time as Spike gushed. “Tonight’s Monday and it’s even your turn to do the dishes! I can start right…wait a minute... Again? Really, Twilight? Two weeks in a row?” She endured all the way up until the very moment realization that he was being duped set in; with a lot more patience she certainly didn't deserve from him Spike waited for her to stop rolling on the kitchen floor wracked by her laughing fit so she could explain her second betrayal this month. “R-really! I’ll – bwahahahaha -- I’ll just-" *Snort, giggle* "-leave you to get started on that. Thanks for dinner!” With that she chugged down the contents of her goblet, slapped it back into place on the table and winked out of existence. Probably to continue laughing somewhere secluded so he couldn't nag her into doing her share of the housework. Again. In a huff Spike slumped back into his seat to catalog their his work: he needed to wash all those pots he cooked with, the bowls they ate out of, the plates, the goblets, the towel Twilight conjured -- which probably wouldn't vanish until he actually cleaned and dried it -- and scrub down the table. Oh boy, did he need to clean the table. That tablecloth did it's best, but it's best definitely wasn't up to snuff. Also there was all the dusting he was supposed to earlier. Dusting which he skipped to make room for preparing his special -- and unnecessary -- dinner. And if he was already washing one piece of laundry he might as well try to get some of the rest out of the way while he was at it. And... "Twe~et!~” ...he needed to give Peewee a proper bath, which would take an hour in and of itself. "Hoo?" Spike almost couldn't believe the owl would bother him now. “Who, hoo?” “What?” Spike snapped. As he rounded on the owl, flames flowing over his tongue and his claws grinding tracks through the wooden table, his temper just barely stayed in check. 'Barely' meaning that he briefly considered avi-cide, but decided he didn't want to clean up more of a mess. “I am NOT in the mood for your stupid games! Just shut up and go help Twilight or something!” Owloysius balked at the display, flaring his wings anxiously, but he didn't retreat as Spike expected him to. "Who, hoo, who?” Owloysius fluttered off his perch to stand on the table and, glancing up at Spike every few seconds as if asking permission, dragged Peewee’s towel closer to himself. With prodigious dexterity -- and the use of Twilight's untouched fork -- the older bird arranged the younger one’s cloth into an improvised sling and took flight once again, hovering just above the table with his charge suspended below him. “Oh. You were asking for help with...or to help with...oh.” Prying his claws out of the table, Spike had no choice but to reflect on how violently he had reacted to his fellow assistant's helpfulness. Again. “Sorry Owloysius. Thanks for taking care of Peewee for me.” “Who?” Thus the two birds departed leaving Spike to his his regretful thoughts and an ever-growing mountain of chores. ~*~*~ ~Spike~ ~*~*~ “Spike, it’s time to get up!” Why was his blanket talking? Had Twilight brought the beds to life again? Or maybe just the pillows and sheets? Well, no matter what she had done he wasn't budging; it could enjoy it's new sentience alone for all he cared. Unfortunately the blanket quickly recognize his reluctance to move. Far too quickly for an object that hadn't been intelligent for a full day, actually. “Come on, you have to get over to Sweet Apple Acres before eight-fifteen so Applejack doesn't have to wait for you.” Magically animated or not at least it was warm. And fluffy. “You need time to shower, eat breakfast, read up on a few subjects and prepare a few notes to reference while running her stand. You want to be on time for your first day of work, don’t you?” Warm, fluffy and comfortable talking blankets warrant a rational and mentally stimulating response to their questions, right? “No,” he answered. Satisfied that the matter had been resolved Spike nestled into back into its warm fluffiness, hoping to get back to sleep before it could try to wake him again. He was not successful. *Giggle* “Spii~iike, get up!” Its mere existence was a little alarming, yes, but that was the least of his problems; the blanket was now moving away from him. With its enjoyable fuzziness gone a single kernel of wisdom was able to slip past his dream devoted defenses: Blankets, magically animated or not, do not usually talk. Except for that one time Shining Armor pranked Twilight, that is. Or after that horrible breakfast-in-bed incident back when they visited Twilight's parent's that one summer unannounced. 'Eww...' Not willing to risk any more unpleasant or suspicious thoughts, Spike wriggled under what felt oddly like a leg drawing more giggles from the chatty bedspread. “At this rate you’ll have to skip your shower so you have time to read,” it continued, speaking and giggling in turn. Blankets don’t talk and, even if they did, they definitely wouldn't talk with Twilight’s voice and Twilight’s weird priorities. They would sound like Rarity: perfect and beautiful and nice enough to not wake him up early in the morning after a long night of cleaning downstairs because he couldn't get through the book blockade to go up the stairs to his basket. Didn’t the blanket know that? Wouldn't that be the first thing a magically animated object learns when it comes to life? No matter. He would correct the problem himself. “You should sound like Rarity,” he muttered into it, "then you'd be the best blanket ever." 'There. All problems solved forever.' “I’m not sure whether that’s cute or disturbing,” it stated pulling away again. This time, however, scooting towards it didn't do anything. Actually he couldn't feel the ground either; something was gently pushing at him from every direction, keeping him away from his blanket or the floor or even a soft tome he could curl up under. Even when half asleep he could recognize this phenomenon as levitation. Sparked by that bit of knowledge yet another granule of clarity blasted into his mind, blazing a trail of destruction through all of his mental fortifications leaving only the wreckage known as consciousness in its wake. 'Wait a second; Blankets can’t levitate things.' If it sounds like Twilight, thinks like Twilight, has legs like Twilight -- or any pony for that matter -- and has magic like Twilight then… Maybe it was was...? Nope. Celestia would never fall for a a trap involving an empty box an a carefully placed carrot. Either Twilight turned herself into a blanket at some point in the night for reasons unknown or it actually was Twilight. Either way he probably wasn't going to get back to sleep any time soon; the second would mean less work though, so he was gunning for that. “Gimme five more minutes?” He begged, not expecting much. Maybe, just maybe, Twilight would give in for once. It was a long shot but it could totally still happen. Even better, she might give him a half decent reason to justify waking up at...at whenever she was waking him up. “No,” the pony formerly known as ‘blanket’ replied as she set his feet to the ground; sadly that actually was a better explanation than usual. “Now march, mister.” Regretfully forced to open his eyes lest he stumble into a pile of books and face lecture that would put in back to sleep -- which would only earn him yet another lecture, adding to his problems --, Spike staggered to the stairs; books that all but barricaded the upper story of the tree-home politely slid out of his way, nudged by Twilight’s telekinesis. Physically guided -- and only occasionally dragged -- by Twilight, Spike finally reached the bathroom both looking and feeling half dead; his eyes and posture were both more analogous to that of a beaten dog than a proud young dragon. Knowing his automatism would steer him well for the final stretch of his journey Twilight magically set the shower on at it's highest and hottest setting, dabbed toothpaste onto his toothbrush, flicked the toilet seat up and closed the door to give Spike privacy for his morning routine. After a quick bathroom break and five glorious minutes under the most scalding temperature the shower could produce Spike was finally awake enough to function. Five more minutes were spent actually scrubbing himself down; polishing what he could reach of his head fins, scrubbing under his ear frills and trying to get his eponymous spike to actually gleam. As an after thought he devoted a few seconds to gargling and brushing his teeth, still enjoying the revitalization offered by the blissful warmth of boiling water. Soon enough though he was ready for his big morning performance; with a towel wrapped around his waist for the sake of modesty Spike opened the bathroom door just slightly, took a few steps back -- only retreating halfway across the room -- and sprinted at the door, dropping to his knees just a second before he made his impressive entrance to the library common. “♪E ~Quest~ ~Ri~ ~A~ Girls! They’re something mag–” Mid syllable and barely out of the door Twilight snapped him up with her magic looking just a touch more amused than the many other times they had been in the same situation. His towel outright vanished, probably displaced into some secret pile where it could mildew among its brethren in peace; he would have more cleaning to do later but that wasn't nearly as important as what was coming next. "How was it? How'd I do?" “I’ll give you an eight point five out of ten for the song and a nine for the delivery, but we don’t have time for games like this today. Come on.” Still levitating him over her head, Twilight bound down the stairs and resumed speaking at the bottom. “We only have roughly five minutes left for breakfast.” After a few wonderful seconds of pride at the seventeen-point-five out of twenty, his best rating for a morning performance since February, Spike finally processed what she had said. “Wait, no way Applejack wants me over there at…At…Uh…” Unfortunately for all his new-found energy he still didn't know what time it was. Thus the two traveled in silence, Twilight tactfully allowing a pause in their conversation until they breached the kitchen and Spike caught sight of the clock there. “Seven o’clock. Wait, it’s only Six-fifty-five? Come on! Nopony’s awake this early!” “Well of course she isn't expecting you this early; she’s probably just finishing breakfast.” As she spoke Twilight set him down and gathered the components of what would soon be their breakfast -- eight slices of bread, a pair of apples, two glasses for orange juice, a jug of orange juice, a dish that she immediately filled with raspberry jam, two extra bowls for their bird's water, a banana and a small bowl of various minerals -- which replaced Spike in her magical grasp, floating in a languid orbit around her. “If you’re going to be a farmhand you’ll need to act the part. Thus you need to be up at sunrise.” They both considered this for a moment before Twilight amended, "Assuming no long forgotten enemy of Equestria is vying for control over our heavenly bodies using dark powers the likes of which no mortal or deity should ever wield, of course." Having corrected herself satisfactorily, Twilight set the table: The apples and glasses of juice divided themselves appropriately between her an Spike, settling beside her morning banana and his breakfast bowl of gemstones, which Twilight seemed to pull at random from a high cabinet. The next time the chain of bread passed him Spike let loose a quick burst of carefully controlled fire for each piece, lightly toasting one side. "That kind of goes without saying, but why exactly do I need to rush through breakfast when it's this early?” Each half-toasted piece of bread continued to revolve around Twilight as she set the jam and juice down at the center of the round table and opened a shade to allow the tentative light of a fresh dawn in, the toat coming back to Spike with the unheated side facing him just as fire returned to his breath. “Research of course!” She replied with a smile, smearing jam onto their toast with several butter-knives while taking a seat. “I think Applejack wants to impress Big Mac today; she was so nervous about everything when she came over yesterday, you'd think she was afraid of him knowing about this. If showing up ready to answer any question he asks you doesn't improve your standing with him, and calm Applejack down, I don't know what will.” ‘It’s not like they’re gonna quiz me when I get there.’ Years worth of mistakenly saying those exact words kept him from triggering his caretaker's obsessive and aggressive study habits. Instead he plucked a piece of toast from the air and sat down on his side of the table as she set the other three down on his plate next to some questionable looking stones. Examining one of the rocks closely Spike quickly identified it as moss-agate; the cloudy off-white color dominating its surface and snaking lines of green blemishes made the classification as about as obvious as telling an apple from a plum. ‘Ehh... It doesn't really look appetizing…’ This too was kept quiet as he dropped the first one he had selected back into the dish and pawed through the collection looking for another, hopefully more delectable looking, specimen. The dull looking stones would undoubtedly be about as tasty as normal rocks covered in moss; bitter compared to most gems but bland compared to the weirder ones he liked. It probably wouldn't even have that delicious silica-y flavor he sometimes liked about quartz. Even so Spike shredded a small one in his claw, sprinkling the resultant grains onto his toast; across the table Twilight sliced her banana onto her own toast. They each slapped another piece of toast onto the first, completing their sandwiches a few seconds apart, and wolfed the food down without another thought. Surprisingly the bitter twinge he had been expecting was very slight which allowed raspberry jam goodness to quickly overpower it. By the time he worked past the fruit flavor he only found the strangely pleasant flavor of quartz with hints of a mysteriously tart mineral aftertaste; Twilight had picked another great combination. “This is awesome! I don’t think I've mixed these two before.” “It was that or garnet,” she stated with a shrug while preparing her second breakfast sandwich with magic and sipping juice manually; the remaining portion of the banana, peel and all, was sliced and worked between her remaining two slices of toast. “And you've never liked garnet in the morning.” Twilight swallowed the second sandwich in two massive bites, drained her drink and hopped up with her dishes already wrapped in arcane force. “Alright, we’ll have a few extra minutes for review; I think we’ll start with the dirt cultivation processes and work our way out from there.” “Wait! I’m not-“ Twilight dumped all unburdened dishes in the sink, stuffed his sandwich into his bowl of gemstones and levitated him, the food and his drink beside her. A pair of knives twirled through both yet untouched apples, reducing the fruit into both baby-phoenix-sized morsels and owl-snack size. Both piles blended with an array of peanuts, pumpkin seeds and various other bird foods before vanished from the table, presumably teleported up to sit beside Peewee and Owlysius' water. “-done…yet.” He finished lamely. “There’s no time for sitting around Spike!” Once again carried against his will, Spike caught sight of the clock again while straining to reach the meal hovering on the opposite side of Twilight’s body, just barely out of reach. Six-fifty-six. 'It's going to be a long day.' ~*~*~ ~Spike~ ~*~*~ A grueling hour and four minutes of lectures on dirt and dirt accessories, interrupted only when Twilight went off on a tangent about dirt maintenance or dirt accessory comparisons –“You’ll definitely need to know the differences between pig-manure and cow-manure, so listen very carefully Spike.” – later Twilight carried Spike down the road to Applejack’s farm, still blathering on about dirt and the riveting ins and outs of dirt all dedicated farmers could presumably quote off the top of their heads. Perched on Twilight’s back where she couldn't easily see him, Spike thumbed through a comic wrapped in a thick tome; Creating Compost: A Canterlotian Colt’s Consolidated Compendium had never seen more use. “Did you catch that?” Twilight glanced over her shoulder to make sure he had neither dozed off nor gotten distracted as she asked about...well something dirt related, no doubt. “Yup,” he quickly answered, far too engrossed in his comic to say any more. Mark Anthony was dueling Julius Caesar atop one of Cleopatra’s gargantuan snakes, fighting for the right to steal the immortal princess’s love away from the ancient king. Amazingly the two were now nearly equals, despite of all of the massive unbalancing factors that should give one or the other an easy win. Mark Anthony’s distinct advantages were in speed and strength, being the much younger warrior and a master swordsman to boot, while Julius Caesar’s skill in hydromancy made him one of the top praetors of Roam Rome. Julius had even been the top antagonist in an earlier arc, pushing for a massive civil war while Mark struggled to first awaken his fire-based powers; Mark used everything he knew fighting Julius during the debate at senate and he still only ‘won’ in the loosest sense of the term because Julius didn't want to risk damaging his own podium before he finished speaking. “Excellent!” Just like that Twilight returned to summarizing the fertilization benefits of specific plant wastes and plant byproducts -- from orange skins and apple cores to wilted flowers and different mosses -- as the early-waking ponies about town passed and greeted them. Most of the activity was flowing to and from the more residential part of town but a few ponies around the library were still up and about starting their day. Even with the occasional interruption of Twilight slowing to acknowledge somepony or outright stopping to ask Spike a question the two made excellent time. Behind them Ponyville-proper shrank quickly and ahead of them, beyond books carried by Spike and Twilight alike, Sweet Apple Acres stretched and swelled as would a freshly roused beast. In a low hanging cloud above the two just a few meters away from Dash’s house a mare yawned and rolled over, setting her rainbow colored tail dancing in the wind; said cloud was the only free-floating tuft of vapor for kilometers in any direction, the forecast of partly cloudy be damned. Neither librarian was paying attention when they breached Apple property. Set on an unwavering path, they marched straight for the door even as Big Mac stepped out of the portal and turned to regard them and their approach. Assured they would probably walk right into him if he didn't get their attention and feeling somewhat chatty, Big Mac offered what would probably be his longest greeting for the day with a smile. “G’mornin’.” Twilight jumped, dropping her book and tossing an equally startled dragon who in turn dropped his own book and the comic hidden within it; both scrambled to collect and dust off their possessions before coming to face the mountain of muscle and red fur just outside the Apple family’s home. “Ya’ll here fer Applejack?” Within the house somepony swore, muttered a quick apology to their grandmother, and took off at a full run. Expecting Applejack to burst out of the door at any moment Big Mac shifted to the side slightly. Neither he nor his guests expected Applejack to fly out of a second story window. Landing with a bouncy roll, Applejack scramble to position herself between her brother and the librarians, her mane and tail restrained only by the combination of her ever-present hat and the force of her will. “They’re here fer me an’ just me! It’s got nothin’ ta do with our market stall! You had best get over ta the market -- aw blast it all --; did ah say market just then? Ah meant… uh…uh…Caramels place! ‘Cause he wanted us to help with…” Applejack glanced back, pleading to her trusted unicorn friend for support. “Hiring Spike?” Twilight offered just as confused as the stallion flanking Applejack. “Exactly! He needs help hiring Spike without you knowin’ about it,” AJ stated looking quite proud of herself. “…Nope?” Big Mac answered, confused and somewhat afraid. “Wait a minute.” Applejack finally progressed through her muddled thoughts to the present moment. “Aww shucks, Twilight, why’d ya go an’ make me say that?” “AJ?” Big Mac caught the edge of the door with a rear hoof, dragging it after him as he exited the house; with a quiet snap it closed behind him while everypony – and dragon – tried to make sense of Applejack’s ramblings. “We-” “Don’t you give me none of that!" Applejack stared her brother down with furious eyes as she strained to stand eye to eye with him, "Ah know how you like to do, with yer fancy talk!” “...Eeyup.” “Ah WILL hire Spike," Applejack finally relaxed back to her normal height. "Whether. You. Like. It. Or. Not!” She drove every word home by thumping her brother in the chest, piercing his composure. Seeing as it was Big Mac his perturbation manifested as him still looking composed with just the slightest touch of puzzlement in his eyes. “Eeyup, ah guess.” “And we’ll pay him proper too! None of that fancy math you try to trick ponies with!” “Eey-uh...Nn-hmm...Maybe?” Big Mac glanced between his sister and the barn behind himself, just the faintest hint of worry on his face. “Don’t you start. You know what? We’ll split all the money good ‘n right, fifty-fifty!” “Nnope.” “Actually,” Spike cut in, “I was only expecting thirty bits or so; yesterday’s pay seemed like too much, you know?” Big Mac took a moment to consider the offer. Swiftly he worked through the farm's expected gross profit, the typical variance in said profit due to changes in uncontrollable factors and the typical allocation of their final income, before factoring in extenuating circumstances years of running the farm taught him to expect and prepare for. A long forgotten princess trying to take over the world would, for example, lower their final profit by about six percent that day; just enough for him to notice, but not quite enough for it to be a real problem.. “Eeyu –” Applejack shushed her brother, spun and shushed Spike, then turned back to face her sibling, “Ah KNOW yer tryin’ to pull somethin’ fast on lil’ Spike here and ah won’t let you swindle him!” “Nnope?” “He and Twilight are as good as kin, so yer gonna treat em like it!” “Eeyup,” Big Mac answered as he started off toward the barn. Given his sluggish pace Applejack easily maneuvered around him to continue her merciless assault. “We’re gonna pay him a straight half of what we make!” Applejack declared with utter confidence. “Nnope.” “A hundred bits!” “Nnope.” “What’s going on?” Spike whispered to Twilight. “I think they’re negotiating, but how does that even work if Big Mac only says ‘yes’ or ‘no’?” Twilight answered, looking every bit as confused as Spike. “Ninty bits!” Applejack actually seemed somewhat worried as she offered this number. “Nnope. AJ…” “Eighty then?” “Nnope. AJ ya can’t just pick a number and pay 'em that. Ta do this right ah’ll have ta look at the books an-” “Ah told you ah ain’t fallin’ for that again! Seventy bits? Come on Mac, please? For me?” “Nnope. Sis we’re only making a small profit from the stand itself so we need to,” Applejack tackled one of her brothers forelegs; Big Mac continued at his regular speed completely unhindered, "sit down and calculate a reasonable salary for him. We will. Later." “Please Mac, ah can’t stay in town all day; not when there's all this work ah could do out here! Ah just can’t! Ah know ah lost the arm-wrestling match but ah can’t stand not being here when we have work to do!” Big Mac remained unaffected by the pleading as he dragged his still sister along toward the barn, dragon and noble steed trailing behind them. “Please, ah'll do anything! Ah’ll chase after Applebloom and her lil' friends! Ah’ll help with the taxes! Ah’ll even listen ta that frou-frou poetry ya write! Fifty! Fifty bits a day fer a good friend! You’ll be mah favorite brother forever!” “AJ!” A hint of embarrassment leaked into Big Macs voice; with a glance behind himself the massive stallion confirmed the two non-Apples were still following and still listening. “Ah don’t write…you can’t just tell…that’s ‘spose ta be a secret! And ah’m yer only brother.” He continued dragging her along toward their shared destination without pause. “Please Mac! Ah’ll even keep Pinkie off ya till autumn!” At hearing her promise, Big Mac stopped short. “Just think about it: no more tear away dresses.” Eyes wide and fearful, Big Mac started shaking. “No more wakin’ up next to strange mares.” His legs wavered. Seeing an advantage, Applejack pressed on, “No more wakin’ up next to other stallions!” Her words seemed to physically strike him, driving the red giant to the ground like no normal attack possibly could. Applejack nimbly avoided being crushed under her brother’s weight as she maneuvered to deliver the killing blow, whispered straight into one of his ears. “No more lettuce.” “You win!” He cried out, curling into as small a ball as he could manage; all in all, he was still taller and wider than Spike by a large margin. “You win! Just keep her away from me, AJ, she…she did things with it.” “DEAL!” Grinning, Applejack stepped over her sibling to address Twilight and Spike. “Alright, ah’ll just bring around the cart. It’s a pleasure ta have ya workin' fer the family, Spike.” With that she darted over her ruined brother once again, booking it toward the barn. “Big Mac?…Are you alright?” Twilight asked, trying to keep her voice light and soothing. “Big Mac?…What did Pinkie do to you?” Spike asked at the same time. Upon hearing Twilights and Spikes voices mixing Big Mac curled into an even tighter ball. The two shared a look between themselves before approaching him, Spike dropping from Twilight’s back to lend Big Mac a calming claw; they both wanted to know the same things, but one question clearly took priority over the other. “What did Pinkie Pie do to you?” They inquired together. At mention of Pinkie’s last name Big Mac locked up and rolled to be completely supine, his ears froze pointing straight down and all of his legs standing straight in the air. Even his tail snapped into place at what looked to be a precise forty-five degree angle. His once terrified eyes took on a look of simple placidity, not unlike a Twilight any time Spike scratched juuust the right spot behind her ear. “What is yer bidding, mah mistress?” At the end of Big Macs verbose question -- relatively speaking --, he bent both of his forelegs while lifting his head from the ground. “Alright now I REALLY wan’t to know what happened. Hey Twilight, any idea what he’s doing?” Spike and Twilight both paced around Big Mac as the stallion slowly returned to his standard position with each leg fully extended. “I think he just knelt or bowed, but why would he…” Twilights horn lit up with magic, probably to right the stallion so his gestures would at least make sense, when Applejack called out to them. “Don’t ya’ll worry about him." She skidded to a stop a meter or two away from them, a smile on her face and the front of an apple loaded wagon braced across her chest. “This happens all the time after that last ‘accident’ with Pinkie, that barn door and the...well, it ain’t proper fer me to say but rest assured we burned the tree down once she was done with it.” The mare swept her hat off and hung her head, momentarily overwhelmed by equal parts regret and sorrow. "Awesome," only a few words into the story Spike already knew it had to be an amazing one, “what did Pinkie do?” Applejack could only shake her head at Spikes question. “Can’t say, sugar. Ah don’t even want ta know mahself, really.” “Should we just leave him here? I could move him somewhere for you…” Applejack glanced between her sibling and the apples behind herself before responding to Twilight’s question. “He’ll be fine, ah think. Eventually. If the therapy works. Well come on now, these apples won’t sell themselves.” Spike clambered back onto Twilight’s back and reclined against her head, his book in claw; at least he had time to finish the chapter in peace now, what with Twilight's attention focused on Applejack. Grinning he opened the book and flipped through pages in the direction of his comic, only to progress smoothly to the other cover of the book. His comic wasn't where he slipped it. Just a touch confused, Spike turned back and forth over a few pages. It should be in between that chapter on the zoning requirements for fertilizer heaps and the anecdotes on how to remove week old, rotten asparagus smell from your mane. It wasn't. "Ah was thinking; we should hold a little get together..." Ignoring Applejack and Twilight's inconsequential blather he flicked through the book from start to finish, hoping the thin comic was wedged elsewhere else and he had just overlooked it. Nothing. He checked through the book again, going in the opposite direction. More nothing. "...maybe Ditzy could keep an eye on Spike and the girls on Friday or Saturday..." Taking his chances with drawing Twilight’s attention, Spike flipped the book completely and gave it a few good shakes; a few stray tufts of purple fur floated free but he his comic remained lost. Worst yet Ponyville was already coming into view; Applejack set the pace for this leg of their trip and she evidently din't believe in speeds lower than galloping-for-your-life. 'Did I drop it or something?' Abruptly he remembered Twilight bucking him off not five minutes earlier; he probably didn't pick it up afterwards so it was still laying somewhere around there. At the farm. In the dirt. Where anyone could pick it up at any time. Just like that, it would be gone; someone else would have his comic. "...but I should be finished by then if the last report is in Equuish. I've received several in High-Gyphonian recently so..." Twilight mused, ignorant to the importance of Spike's problems. His comic was missing. His comic; not the library's, not Twilight's and certainly not Big Mac's or Applejack's. He needed to get it. He had to get it. It was his. There was only one thing stopping him form going back to get it: he was suppose to help Applejack. That was the whole point of everything: the stupid dinner yesterday, the rude awaking earlier, getting thrown from Twilight's back a few minutes ago...all of that just to help Applejack. 'Maybe I could ask someone to...' Who could he trust to retrieve it for him? Twilight would just as soon dispose of the comic as she would give it back to him. Applejack...actually, Applejack might just be perfect. The only problem was actually asking her; with Twilight not only in earshot but directly below him there would be little chance of discretely making any kind of request. He would have to wait for Twilight to leave and if they kept talking like this Applejack would leave with her. Twilight put the simple market stall with ease, still fully engage in her conversation as possessive worry filled Spike's heart. Applejack waved to a few passers-by, trading polite but friendly comments on how wonderful their weatherponies were doing today while each beat of Spike's heart reminded him that one of his belongings was missing. 'There's no choice; I have to go get it. It's MINE.' Wait, no! Not that again! What would Twilight say if she knew how much he wanted some stupid comic? How could Rarity ever trust him to be her protector and beloved suitor if he couldn't stop himself from thinking about owning just a few more things? 'Don't be greedy.' 'Don't be selfish.' 'Don't hoard things.' 'Don't be covetous.' 'Don't be...avarit...averick...'what was that other word Twilight used? Not that it mattered; whichever way he phrased it, it still came down to meaning he could never fail them like that ever again. The comic wasn't that important. Even if it was his and just a short run away. He had a duty to help Applejack. He had to make Twilight proud. Twilight shifted subtly under him and, automatically reading the physical signal, Spike dismounted her; he hadn't notice anyone doing it but a crate was already upturned for him to stand upon and his first set of apples were already lain out in a neat little pile on the reassemble stand. "Have a good day Spike!" Twilight chirped before kissing his head, banishing a few of his worries without even knowing that he had them. "Ah'll check in with ya at around noon; thanks for the help!" Side by side Applejack and Twilight departed leaving Spike to wait for his first customer. And wait... And wait...