Thanks to Spike’s green fire breath, tea was ready in under a minute. Spike, unaffected by the heat of near boiling water, took a cup directly in his claws while Rarity levitated hers onto a nearby side table. They sat there in silence for a moment, avoiding each other’s eyes. The events at Quills and Sofas still were too fresh in their minds. A minute of uncomfortable shuffling went by before Rarity shattered the ice.
“Spike, dear, I just want to say that I am terribly sorry for what happened today,” Rarity stated. “I had no idea all of that was going to happen.”
Spike slightly turned his head away. “It’s okay, Rarity. There’s no way any of this could’ve been your fault.”
“Oh, but it is! You see, I had already known that that Davenport fellow didn’t sell to donkeys. I should have foreseen something like this coming to pass…” She shuddered. “I just… I didn’t think. Oh, Spikey-wikey, could you ever forgive me?”
Spike turned to see her large deep blue eyes threatening to swallow him whole. The dragon’s heart squirmed a little inside him. Here was Rarity actually showing concern about the state of his relationship with her. Sure, it was their platonic relationship for which she was asking forgiveness, but still… Still!
“Sure, Rarity…” he breathed. “I could never be mad at you, but…”
“B-but?” The unicorn stammered.
“-but I don’t want you to feel guilty over something that was totally not your fault. I mean, it’s-” The rest of his speech was cut off by Rarity enveloping him in a hug; his cheeks blazed a curious shade of magenta.
Rarity grinned. “Oh Spikey, you are the sweetest gentlestall—er, dragon, I know.”
“I-I’m the only dragon you know,” he choked.
“Details, darling,” she replied knowingly. The unicorn then drew back, her face changing from open amusement to her usual, more guarded veneer. Spike had long since dubbed it ‘the business face.’ “However first thing’s first and we must settle this Davenport matter once and for all. We shall need a plan of action. I suggest we first explain that hideous cur’s actions to Twilight, and then we write a lengthy complaint to Mayor Mare. However, we may need to stop by the press first…”
“Don’t bother with Mayor Mare,” Spike grumbled. “I’m pretty sure she knows already. To get anything done, we’ll need to aim somewhere else.”
Rarity gasped. “Why, Spike! Why would you say such a thing? Mayor Mare would not let such awful things happen under her jurisdiction, if she knew such things were happening. Mayor Mare has been nothing but benevolent and kind to both you and everypony else in town. To suggest anything else is downright disrespectful…and rude.”
“Come on, even you Rarity knew that that pony didn’t sell to donkeys. How much more does Mayor Mare know?” Spike knew that the only way to get his point across was to use cold, hard logic. Living with Twilight Sparkle did have the effect of raising one’s basic level of deduction. “Remember how many donkeys and mules live in Ponyville? You can’t tell me that any one of them has ever walked into Quills and Sofas and has gotten any service. It’s obvious that once many of them found out the reason why, they would’ve gone to town hall for help… But still, Quills and Sofas is open and running like usual. What else can explain that?”
Rarity couldn’t immediately think of a counter to his argument, so she took advantage of the tea in her hooves and took a long sip, giving herself time to think. Her mind attempted to poke holes into his statement, but she couldn’t make very many. Uneasily, she thought back to all the times where the mayor had helped them. The mayor had erected memorials in honor of all the times the gang had saved Equestria; there was even a section of Town Hall dedicated to Spike himself after he had saved the Crystal Empire. How could she secretly be a speciest when she had shown so much favor towards them?
“Still,” she replied, finally. “Mayor Mare has always been so supportive of us. It is rather…difficult…for me to see her doing…that.”
“Politics is sort of a messy thing,” Spike said offhandedly. “She could let this thing go on because she secretly agrees with Davenport, or she could let this thing go on because of other stuff. You never know, but it doesn’t matter because in the end complaining to her isn’t going to help. And about her supporting you-” Spike grinned. “You guys are the Elements of Harmony. Twilight was a student and is a personal friend of the Princesses. The mayor has to be stupid to not show favor to you guys.”
Rarity sat very still, her mouth opening and closing for a few moments before she remembered that that was terribly unladylike and stopped. “S-spike, darling,” she gulped. “How ever did you learn to be so…observant?”
“I lived for a while in Canterlot Castle itself, remember? Plus, you get to learn a lot of things if you listen to what goes on in the royal court after a while.”
“Indeed…” Rarity took another sip of her rapidly cooling tea. A short silence between them was broken by the chime of the town’s clock tower signaling that it was two in the afternoon. “Oh dear,” she huffed. “I suppose I’ll have to get back to work. And I completely forgot to prepare afternoon snacks for Sweetie and her little friends…”
“Let me help-” Spike began before Rarity shushed him with a hoof.
“No, you’ve done well enough, darling. Besides, I’m positive that Twilight will squeeze all the housework she can out of you once you return.” The white unicorn’s smile flickered a little. “However, before you leave, I want to ask you something.”
“Anything,” the dragon replied.
“Well, er-” Rarity looked uncomfortable. “This question has been bothering me for some time now, and I know it’s quite silly, but I…” She stopped, breathing unevenly. “I have to ask. Spike…”
“Yes?” The dragon’s green eyes widened in anticipation.
“That thing... That thing back there you said about the molting sofa. Was that true?”
“Wait! What?” a squeaky voice cried.
“Hey, Apple Bloom! I think your thingamabob’s not working,” another voice sighed. “Again.”
A third voice grumbled in annoyance. “Maybe because y’all keep breakin’ it…” Apple Bloom shoved Scootaloo to the side and examined the fruit of her labor. “Ah don’t appreciate y’all messing up mah hard work here.”
“Well, Rarity just said something about a mulching sofa, and I know that can’t be right,” Sweetie Belle stated, confused.
“Nah-uh, she said something about a molting sofa,” Scootaloo corrected. “That is, if Apple Bloom’s Spy Master 2.0 is actually working right.”
“It’s fine,” Apple Bloom replied, valiantly defending her newest invention. “There ain’t nothing wrong with it. Must’ve been your ears that misheard something.”
“My ears are fine, and I heard the words ‘molting sofa,’” Scootaloo reiterated.
Sweetie Belle laughed. “Molting sofa? That doesn’t make any sense.”
Scootaloo glared. “As if ‘mulching sofa’ does?”
“Do you even know what ‘mulch’ even means?”
“Um, guys?” a new voice called out. “We really like your company and all, but standing here and listening to you argue is not gonna get us our cutie marks!”
At this, the three fillies who had just entered their teenage years looked down in shame. How could they have forgotten about Pumpkin and Pound?
“We’re sorry y’all,” Apple Bloom apologized. “As your official Cutie Mark Crusader Guides, our mission is to guide y’all through the long and difficult cutie mark process so you guys will know exactly who ya are and what y’all s’posed to be, not yappin’ and hollerin’ over nonsense stuff.”
“Aw, s’okay,” Pumpkin Cake admitted. “I don’t think Pound and me were gonna get our cutie marks by spying on Rarity anyways.”
“You see,” Scootaloo whispered over to Sweetie Belle. “I told you guys we should’ve gone ahead with the rocket idea.”
“Ooo! Rocket idea! Rocket idea!” Pound fluttered his tan wings up and down in excitement.
Sweetie Belle facehoofed. “What? No! Come on! No rockets! Don’t you remember what happened last time you two strapped rockets to something?”
“Yeah, Pound. I don’t wanna spend the next two weeks stuck doing chores inside Sugarcube Corner—again,” Pumpkin glared at her brother. He withered under her gaze and started to kick at the floor with his hooves.
“Okay…” he sighed. “I just feel bad for Spike and Sweetie Belle’s sis down there. They say Mayor Mare won’t help them with their problem… But I still like Scootaloo’s rocket idea! It’s super awesome, but then again all of Scootaloo’s ideas are super awesome…” The colt ended his statement, casting a dreamy look in Scootaloo’s direction.
“Um, guys…” Scootaloo whispered nervously. “T-the kid’s doing it again. It’s kinda creeping me out over here.” Sweetie Belle giggled at her orange friend’s obvious discomfort while Apple Bloom was in the midst of some serious thinking.
“Hey, Pound. Can ya repeat what y’all just said?” Apple Bloom asked.
“That Scootaloo’s ideas are always awesome?”
“Nope. The one before that.”
“That rockets are super awesome?” Pound said hopefully.
“Nooo! The one before that!” Apple Bloom yelled.
Pound cake thought hard. “Hmm… That Mayor Mare can’t help Spike and Sweetie Belle’s sis?”
“Yes!” Apple Bloom exclaimed so loudly that both Pumpkin and Pound nearly jumped out of their coats. “Cutie Mark Crusaders Problem Solvers! Y’all can do that to get your cutie marks.”
“A cutie mark in problem solving?” Pumpkin Cake gently tapped her hoof on her chin in deep thought. “I don’t think I’ve heard of anypony having that one. Maybe we’re gonna be the first ones?”
“Wow…” Pound Cake’s dark eyes gleamed. “Our cutie marks…”
“So everypony agrees then?” Sweetie Belle asked, looking around the room. “Alright then, Cutie Mark Crusaders!” She held up a white hoof.
“Cutie Mark Crusaders!” Four other hooves joined in.
By the time Spike had returned to the library, the situation had calmed down considerably. The majority of Fluttershy’s menagerie had disappeared, and only ones left were Twilight, who was once again sitting down and reading, and Fluttershy, who was in the corner carefully spoon-feeding the now serene Mr. Squirrel something brown and mushy while Angel Bunny looked on in seething jealousy.
“You’re back,” Twilight stated mechanically, still deeply engrossed in her book.
“Oh, hi, Spike,” Fluttershy greeted. “How was Rarity?”
“She’s fine,” Spike replied absentmindedly. “Hey, Twi, do you remember the name of our district governor?”
This direct question finally made Twilight put down her tome. Her face scrunched up in thought. “Hmm… I think his name is Bright... Wait! No… It’s Golden, Golden Banner! He was appointed to the position maybe three years ago. But why are you asking about Golden Banner?” The purple mare questioned; her head tilted to the side.
“Um, I’ll tell you later?” Spike replied weakly. If he had had the ability to sweat, he would have been streaming buckets under Twilight’s searching gaze. The problem wasn’t as much as Spike not wanting his friend/guardian/adoptive sister to know the truth, but his desire for him to be the one who ultimately handles the situation—especially if the problem was his to begin with. Telling Twilight now would result in her taking charge over everything, and he’d be relegated into “staying home and holding down the fort” or in other words, “doing nothing.” By Celestia, in pony years he was an adult. By dragon standards, who knew? However, it was obvious that he had at least passed puberty. He was old enough to solve his own problems.
The two stared at each other until Twilight finally relented. “Alright, Spike,” she moaned. “You win this time. I won’t try to butt in into whatever scheme you’re trying to pull.”
Spike grinned a toothy smile at his success before heading over to a table and grabbing a sheet of parchment. “Oh, and don’t try to read my mind like last time, Twi,” he added. “That spell lets me look into yours too, and I really don’t want to watch you fall down the stairs on your tenth birthday again.”
Twilight groaned in response. She really had to research that spell’s safeguard against reverse mind gazing. One of the things that had always bothered Twilight the most was the case of “not knowing.” A primary goal in her life was to research, discover, prove, and then archive as much information as she possibly could. Not many could hide a secret from Twilight Sparkle, with the notable exception of a few—especially her Number One Assistant. The desire to find out whatever Spike had felt so important not to tell her burned inside her, but Twilight had patience. She could wait. Somewhat.
Twilight’s lavender eyes watched the dragon’s face as he furiously scribbled across the parchment. ‘Hmm… It must be important,’ she thought. ‘He’s sticking his tongue out.’ She continued to watch as he carefully sealed the letter and blew his magical fire upon it, immediately sending it far away. ‘The direction is north northwest. He’s sending it Canterlot. Is it for Princess Celestia? No. He had asked about Golden Banner. Golden Banner’s offices are located in the castle…’ She racked her mind as to reasons why Spike would want to contact a busy pony like Golden Banner. Suddenly Spike’s emerald eyes were back on her—almost as if he knew what she was thinking. Blushing profusely, Twilight hid her head behind the open pages of her book.
“Uh, Twi?” Spike raised an eyebrow. “Why are you reading Thirty Ways to Attract a Stallion?”
If Twilight was blushing before, now it seemed as if her whole face had turned into a tomato.
“Because Spike…” she growled. “I have decided to take your advice. Fluttershy and I were talking while you were gone, and she…she agreed with you.” Incredulously, Spike turned to stare at Fluttershy. How had she done the impossible in just a little under two hours?
“Oh, I only mentioned that it was nice to go out sometimes, but only, um, if she wanted to.” The butter yellow pegasus turned an adorable shade of pink under all the staring.
“I’m going,” Twilight seethed. “I’m going to prove to you, Spike, that I’m not a stick-in-the-mud. I can be social around other ponies.”
“And the reason for the book?” Spike asked.
“Because,” Twilight gritted her teeth. “It’s formal. I’ll need a date.”
The purple unicorn barely finished her sentence before Spike burst into laughter. “Oh-my-Celestia-you-Twilight-on-a-date?” He rolled upon the floor. “Twilight actually on a date! What are you guys going to talk about? The Dewey Decimal System?”
“Well, I’m glad that you find it so funny, mister,” Twilight smiled wickedly. “Because you’re coming with me.”
Spike stopped. “Wait. Did you just say-”
“You’re my direct contact to Princess Celestia in case of any trouble. I couldn’t leave you here, of course. So this means you’re going to have to come with us.” Twilight’s smile grew in a rather disturbing way. “I hope you have an idea of whom you’re bringing as your date, Spike.”
“D-date?” Spike stammered, eyes growing wide.
Oh, buck.