Two Weeks

by NotARealPonydotcom

The Great Tragedy of Spike de Draco

For the first time, there's no blue in my dream. But I'm not looking for her this time. I want a pool. And I get it, after a minute of spinning around in this gray world, which, now that I've looked at it properly, looks like the night sky, but brighter, like a big flashlight is shining underneath me. The window passes by. I chase after it, but it moves faster and faster whenever I move faster and faster. It always stays a few inches out of my reach, and it's only after an endless chase that I get a hand close enough to dip a claw in it's bright, sticky surface

"Again, I apologize, Spike. The guards didn't seem to understand-"

"It's fine, Princess, really."

Celestia cast a worried look over at the drake. He looked tired. She wished he had a bedroom to sleep in. But none of the other guest rooms were ready. The Royal Guard had only prepared six, one for each of the Elements of Harmony. For the Element of Magic's pet dragon? One heavenly cushion, used normally for Philomena when she wished to sleep directly next to her owner. It was big, but it was big for a bird. For Spike, it was something to sit on, not a sleeping pad.

"Spike, it is far from fine. Apparently, I need to explain to the Royal Guard that when I say 'Spike,' I don't mean a dog." She sighed heavily. "It shocks me that these guards don't know who you are."

"Are they new?"

"Oh, I can't tell. All of them wear enchanted armor that makes them appear identical, save for the change in divisions." She squeezed her eyes shut and rubbed her forehead. "This is actually quite embarrassing for me. I really should know the names of my personal guards..."

She felt a scaly hand on her shoulder. Looking over, she found that Spike was giving her a reassuring smile.

"Mom," he said kindly, "don't worry about me. I can handle this."

Celestia returned his smile warmly, and pulled him into a tight hug. He hadn't called her "Mom" in a long while. It made her want to cry, hearing that most unused of titles placed upon her head again.

"Uh, Mom?" Spike squirmed in her grip. "You're crushing me a bit."

Spike winced as his ankle throbbed again. That damned sous-chef had one hell of a tackle, that was for sure. He ignored the pain and continued leafing through the volume he was searching.

Come on, come on, you have to be in here somewhere...

Nothing in this one. Groaning in frustration, he set the book on the steadily growing pile to his left, and reached to his right to grab the next book on the shelf. He examined its title with hope:

Spike imagined what kind of spells would be in there: change into a rock, or an orange, or even another creature entirely...

He sped through the table of context. Nothing. The index. Nothing. He read through the book, stopping every time the word "pony" caught his eye. He finished the book in ten minutes. Nothing.

"Dammit..." He set the book on the pile, and moved on to the next one.

"Spike..."

Rarity held his hand in her hooves. He didn't say anything. He hadn't said anything, since "I love you.". She'd merely smiled, and strolled over to him.

"Do you really mean that?"

He still couldn't say anything, so he nodded. Rarity's smile grew wider. Were those tears in her eyes? Not possible, he thought. She couldn't really...

"Spike, I don't know what to say. Really, I don't." She sighed in frustration and brought his hand to her forehead. "All of this work, and the Expo, they're taking a toll on me. I don't want to say this, I truly don't, but, can you wait, just a little longer, before I give you an answer?" She gave him a pleading look, eyes shining sapphires. "Just after the Expo, I promise. Then, we can talk about this. Please, Spike?"

How could he say no to her? Again, he nodded. Rarity's smile grew even wider, and she pulled him into an embrace. She whispered in his ear, "Thank you, Spikey Wikey." They hugged for a long, long minute. When they finally separated, she couldn't resist: she gave him a peck on the lips. He blushed violently, bringing a sly smile to her face.

"Consider that a present for being so patient with me." She stepped away from Spike, and shook her mane, gathering herself.

"Well then, shall we get back to the dresses? The sooner, the better."

Something cold and sharp stabbed into his back. Something warm and wet poured out from where the stab was. He didn't care. In fact, he wished for it to keep pouring, until there was nothing left in him. Then maybe he'd stop feeling so bad about those ponies that had taunted him, humiliated him, hated him for being different. But he couldn't move a single muscle in his body, so he could only lie there and hope that one cut would let enough blood flow out to kill him.

It occurred to him that he didn't remember how he got to that point. Why was there shattered glass everywhere? What happened to the Equestrian Fashion Expo? Did he smell smoke? Why was there a hole in the ceiling? He remembered those snobs, mocking him for being different, treating him like some kind of monster...

Oh. Now I remember.

Shockingly, he found this funny. They deserved what they got, and more. All of them. Damned ponies, acting like they're the only civilized being in the universe. Why, if they wanted, he bet that dragonkind could just come swooping in and kill every single one of them. Then where would those snobs be? In the pit of his stomach, digesting.

The moment these thoughts passed through his head, he thought of Rarity, and felt like he was going to vomit. He hoped he wouldn't: if he did, he couldn't move his head to let it leave his mouth. He would choke to death.

Maybe I should, he thought, as the warmth grew underneath him. He was beginning to feel lightheaded. He wondered how easy it was to die. If this was it, it wasn't half as bad as all the book had made it out to be. Looking up at the stars, wrapped up in a warm blanket (though he was pretty sure blankets aren't supposed to be wet), it was almost like a night picnic. He watched the stars twinkle in the night. After a minute or two, a bright trail of space dust passed over his vision. Delirious from blood loss, Spike smiled dreamily.

"Make a wish..." And then he did.

before it zooms away, leaving me to think about the scenes I've been given to study. What a tragedy this boy's life is! I hope he died in peace. Then it occurs to me that I was watching myself, lying there in the beaten-up castle bleeding. A second after realizing that, something even worse pops into my head:

Am I dead?

The gray flashes, and I hear hoofsteps, in the distance. But I can't find the source. I turn around and look, and turn more, and look more, but I can't find whoever's making those noises. They're getting nearer and nearer. I want to know who that is. Maybe I can talk to him, or her. They'll know what's going on, or if I'm dead. The sounds of the hoofsteps grow closer,and, seeing nopony to talk to, I shout my question out:

"Did I die that night?"

The hoofsteps stop. In my ear, a voice whispers:

"No. Not yet."

What? I spin around. Nopony there. I spin around again; still, nopony. I start running, in the direction the voice came from, and I run straight off an invisible cliff. Once again, I'm falling, and I know that I'm not dead because the fear of falling is still there, and I can't be afraid after dying, so I'm alive, only not for much longer if the ground is getting close (I can't tell; invisible roads, you know). Again, I scream. And again, I wake up mere seconds before I flatten myself on the pavement(?)

I sleep until my hangover's gone, and when I wake up the lights from up the stairs are all out. Next to my bed is another stool with another bowl of gems and another note. Without getting out of bed, I snatch up the bowl and note and feast upon topaz while I read:

Ah, Twilight. No matter how social you become, no matter how many times you save Equestria, you'll always be that over-thinking mare(dragin) I grew up assisting. I stretch, quietly trod up the stairs to check if it's night time (and it is), and slip back down to sleep more. I finish off the gems and get back into my bed with a full stomach. I wonder if this is how a bear lives when he's hibernating.

Windows everywhere, all I have to do is turn and

"Careful, soldiers! The beast approaches!"

"Aye, Captain! We see him! But I don't think he can see us!"

"Excellent! We have the upper hoof, then! Ready...wait for it...all right, CHARGE!"

The army of soldiers burst from the underbrush and charged the dragon, who turned to face them far too late to avoid their onslaught. They fell upon the creature with all the fury of Celestia's highest-ranking Royal Guards. Unfortunately for the dragon, they were much, much worse than that: they were an army of children, hitting him with sticks.

"Ah! Kids, stop! That actually hurts!"

"It's weakening, soldiers! Continue the assault!" The leader of the cavalry, a bright red pegasus named Sundown, had a voice much more mature than his outward appearance made him look. He had all the makings of a true soldier (and a cutie mark to match them), and Spike would not be surprised if the foal beating him with a branch right now one day grew up to fight alongside Shining Armor. He struggled away from the colt, but foals behind him shoved him forward, and he fell on his face in front of Sundown. The child pointed his wing-held sword at a spot directly between Spike's eyes.

"Foul beast, we have defeated you. Give us your treasure, and we shall let you live!"

Spike smirked, playing along, and bellowed, "Insolent foals! Do you not know the ways of the dragon? I would sooner give my life than let your filthy hooves touch my treasure!" He laughed again, letting smoke billow from his mouth for added effect.

"My hooves aren't filthy!" one of the "soldiers" cried. "I wash them after every time I go outside!" Another foal smacked the back of his head, and the two quickly began arguing over whether or not a soldier would tell a captured enemy about how many times he washes his hooves. Sundown turned to yell at them, and Spike saw his opportunity. He grinned wildly, and pounced up from the ground, knocking a few fillies and colts to the ground. Sundown turned around to see a wall of light purple scales coming at him at lightning-fast speeds. He was brought to the ground with a shriek, and in another moment the drake was tickling him furiously.

"Ha!" Spike yelled, smirking down at the struggling foal beneath him. "All you ponies are the same! Ticklish, every last one of you!"

"Stop, please!" The little pegasus could hardly breathe under Spike's torturous tickling. "It isn't funny, Mr. Spike! Stop, seriouslyyyyyy!" His last word turned into a squeal that made his voice sound much less mature than it had a moment ago. Spike could see his victory approaching fast, and he made to demand the foal's surrender. Then, out of nowhere, something hard, flat, and most certainly more painful than a stick made contact with the side of his head. He went sprawling into the dirt. He heard a few of the foals shout "Hey!" at his attacker, but when he heard the voice of said pony, he groaned mentally.

"Sundown, my baby! Are you alright? Did he hurt you?"

Spike looked up from the ground at a mare the same shade of red as Sundown, who was fawning over him the way only mothers do. Sundown ignored her, though, and was looking over at Spike in shock.

"Mom, what the heck! Why did you just do that?"

The mare seemed stunned that he'd ask such a question. She glanced between Sundown and Spike, ignoring Spike's angered gaze completely, and bent over her foal.

"Sunny, he was hurting you. I could hear you-"

"Mom, it was a game! My friends and I were playing with Mr. Spike, you knew that! Why'd you hit him?"

"I was only protecting you-"

"But I wasn't in any danger! You just came over and hit him away!"

The mare was beginning to blush, though it was hardly noticeable against her already red cheeks. She gave Spike another glance, and tried to say something out of earshot. But Spike's ears picked it up anyway:

"Honey, you know dragons aren't exactly proper playmates..."

Sundown didn't seem to care whether or not his mother used a whisper; he was still appalled by what she'd done to Spike.

"Spike's not even like that! You've heard of him, he's that dragon that saved the Crystal Empire!" He pushed himself out of her grip and rushed over to Spike, who had sat up in the grass and was rubbing the side of his head that had been struck. He tapped Spike on the arm, and asked, "You alright, Mr. Spike?"

Spike nodded and said, "Don't call me 'Mr.' It's just Spike. If I was that old, I'd definitely be too big to play with you kids. And it's fine. My head, I mean." He gestured to Sundown's mother. "I get that kind of treatment a lot, actually. I'm used to it."

Sundown frowned. "Really? That sucks."

Spike chuckled wearily. "Yeah. It really does." The smile he'd been wearing since Sundown had trotted over to him faded, and he got to his feet suddenly. Sundown looked up at him, flashing a small smile. Spike smiled back, and said, "I've gotta go now. Gonna check and see if-" He was interrupted by his name, called from behind him by an unmistakable, beautiful voice.

"Yoo-hoo, Spikey! I've got the fabrics I need!" Rarity waved from a park bench a few yards away. She clearly had not seen the mother hit him, or else she would be by his side in the grass, chewing the mare's ear off for what she'd done. Spike grinned and waved back, then looked down at Sundown.

"Sorry, kiddo. Looks like I've gotta go. See ya." He held a fist out, which the colt bumped, and without giving the mare that had hit him a second look, he turned and walked away.

"I see you made a few friends," she said when he reached her. She looked past him at Sundown, and noticed the dirty look the mare next to him was giving them. "Though, it does seem that the parents are a bit less excited by your presence." She looked up at him, and watched him rub a spot on his head that looked a little bruised. She giggled cutely, and asked, "It also seems that you played a bit rough."

Spike laughed back, not really meaning it. "Yeah. A little too rough, apparently." He gestured towards the main city streets. "Shall we?"

Basic telekinesis, complex telekinesis, transmogrification, teleportation, spatial displacement, disabling of any of the five senses, power augmentation, power deprivation, physical healing, psychological healing, bone manipulation, echolocation, invisibility, projection of force fields, merging, poison generation, trans-dimensional transportation, plant manipulation, pyrokinesis, cryokinesis, waterbreathing, telepathy, memory manipulation, proper calligraphy, protection from the sun's harmful rays, basic cooking skills, animation, gravity manipulation, infatuation, magnetic manipulation, energy blasts, summoning, portal generation, flower gardening, levitation, illusion, reality warping, basic surgical procedure, emergency surgical procedure, elemental transmutation, insect mimicking, time travel, time telling, color changing, pheromone manipulation, illumination, washing clothes, drying clothes, curing insomnia, disc jockeying, cross-dimensional awareness, mind control, dusting, digging, securing structures, alarm systems, strength, self-detonation, external detonation, reformation, body part substitution, burn treatment, water repulsion, opening canned food.

All of these kinds of spells he found in the library. Some were shocking, some were expected, and some he bookmarked for later. But he could not find any spell on permanent transformation. Anything on it was either torn out, or not a spell. Spike was well aware of Celestia's fear of permanent spells, as they presented a major problem should a unicorn decide that everypony in the country would look better if they were dogs, but he could not help but feel more than annoyed at the lack of information on the one topic he needed to learn about. Hours spent searching, all for something that was not allowed to be found.

At one point during his quest, Spike came across a book entitled Enlarged Lizards: A Guide to Dragons. The title alone made him groan, and he could not resist taking a break from spellbooks and looking through it. He read through it, cover to cover, in an hour. The information was so unreliable that Spike laughed at the author at points. Then he came across a section of the book describing a dragon's capability in a society:

The dragon, while a remarkable beast indeed, is one that should never be approached without extreme caution. Even if its flame sac were to be taken out, its claws to be removed, and its teeth to be filed down to almost nothing, its sheer size, strength, and stupidity makes it capable of killing any number of ponies in one fell swoop. Attempts have been made to educate dragons by various brave stallions and mares, and their sacrifices are commemorated in the memorial tomb in Baltimare. From the notes these scientists had taken, it has been long since determined that the dragon, while well developed in body, is in the mental category no more than a violent, drooling beast. It is incapable of speaking proper Equestrian, or any language for that matter. In fact, it seems to be unable to communicate with other kinds at all, and merely attempt to kill anypony or anything that comes near it and/or its horde. A dragon is also incapable of learning, and has been shown to show hardly any signs of sentience, save for those that allow it to better protect its horde. This provides gratuitous evidence supporting Dr. Brain Wave's "Me Like Shiny" Theory (see page 34), and...

That passage, he read again. And again. And again. Eventually, he shut the book with one hand, using the other to pinch the bridge of his nose. Then, he quietly stepped over to the window overlooking the Canterlot Gardens below. He cracked it open, and held the book out. He gave its dull green cover one last, odd look, and he tilted his head at it, almost childishly.

"No one will miss you," he said. Then he took a deep breath, and let loose a bout of flames that consumed the volume. His hand was unharmed: as if a dragon could burn himself in his own fire. That was another thing the idiotic book had gotten wrong. He watched the text go up in flames and let it burn in his hands until there were only ashes left. Then, he took another deep breath, and this time blew out air. The ashes flew from his hand out into the world, and he watched them drift away with a guilt-free happy smile on his face. Then, when he could no longer see any ashes floating out to the Gardens, he turned and went back to his research.

The cork on the champagne bottle went flying across the dressing room with a loud, satisfying POP! Rarity watched it fly with a gleeful smile on her face, and happily held out her glass when Spike offered her first grab at the champagne. She waited for him to pour himself a glass and set down the bottle before she raised hers in the air and called a toast.

"To the Fashion Expo, and my newest line of dresses!" Spike raised his glass in response, and added: "Here's hoping that the past twenty-four hours weren't for nothing!" They laughed, clinked glasses, and drank. The drink was bubbly, light, and tasted only slightly like oats. The pear flavor washed over it just as soon as he'd thought he'd grasped it. He finished his glass in another two gulps, while Rarity left her glass only half empty. She smiled up at him, and looked over at the balcony doors that her room had come equipped with (for stress management, Celestia had said). Her eyes widened when she saw it was sunset, and she trotted over to the doors, sliding them open with her telekinetic grip.

"Oh my! I had no idea we'd spent that much time on the dresses!" She stepped out onto the balcony to watch the sunset, and Spike eagerly followed her, bottle in one hand, glass in the other. All he could think about, as he had for the past day, was her promise to him. When there was nothing to stress over, she'd said...

"You heard me say 'twenty-four hours,' right?" He chuckled at his own joke, as did Rarity, and he met her on the balcony. He leaned against it, and set the bottle on the railing after refilling his glass. He sipped at this one, savoring the flood of pear taste in his mouth. He looked over at Rarity, who was watching the sunset with gleaming, gorgeously blue eyes. He watched the sunset with her (or, watched her watching the sunset) for a minute before working up the nerve to ask her the question:

"So, all of the dresses are done?"

"They are, Spike." She gave him another of her wonderful smiles. He sighed dreamily, against his own will. She continued: "I feel so relieved, to have them done. Now, we only have to wait until tonight, when the Expo begins, and I'll be able to show them off, sell them all, and leave Canterlot with enough orders and money to be set for life!" She giggled. "Not that I'm anywhere near ready to retire."

Spike chuckled again, and swirled his drink in its glass. "All that stress, gone, huh? Just like that?"

Rarity didn't seem to understand what he was getting at. "Oh, yes! I feel as though an unimaginable weight has been lifted off my shoulders!" She stretched, spilling some of her drink. She started when it splashed her hooves, and went into a fit of giggles. "Oops! See? I'm just so giddy with excitement! I can't imagine how this day could get better!"

I can. Spike swallowed his drink again. "Well, with your talent, I'm sure it will. Somepony famous has got to want your work!" He inched closer, almost subconsciously.

"Oh, Spike, don't forget, I had the best assistant a lady could ask for!" She moved over to him and wrapped a foreleg around him. She nuzzled his neck, and he silently thanked Celestia she was unable to see his blush. She pulled away and looked him in the eye. "I would never have gotten them all done in time without you. You truly are my hero today, Spike." The glass (now empty) flew from her hoof as her magic took it in its grip, and she brought her other foreleg over to draw him into a tight hug. He embraced her happily, savoring the moment as he had the champagne. Even though she'd spent the last few hours shouting orders and sweating over the fabrics they'd purchased the other day, he could still smell the lilac perfume she put on each day. He'd only had a glass and a half of champagne, but he felt intoxicated. He held her tightly, and almost didn't let go when she began to pull away. Rarity leaned back and gave him another beautiful smile. He stared into her eyes, and in the next second, Spike knew what he had to do.

Slowly, he moved a hand up to her cheek, and he brushed some of her mane (which was heavily disheveled from the events of the day) out of her face. Her eyes widened at his touch, and he felt her breathe in sharply as her smile flickered, but she made no move to stop him. He cupped her cheek in his hand, and gradually, brought her closer to him. Time slowed for the two as they drifted closer, and when their lips touched it stopped altogether, freezing in the most perfect of all moments. Both pairs of eyes fluttered shut, and Rarity sighed as he drew her in close. His hand moved from her cheek to the small of her back, and he pulled her in by the hips as their embrace deepened. It was only a matter of seconds before his tongue moved on its own accord, sliding past his lips and across hers. She opened her mouth, and when their tongues touched, the glass Rarity had been holding in her magical grip fell to the floor, where it shattered. Neither of them cared, or even noticed. They were too absorbed in each other's tastes. Vanilla poured into his mouth, and combined with the scent of lilac from her perfume, he was overwhelmed with hunger for more of her. Spike's hands slid lower on Rarity's body, and when he reached her flank she gasped against his mouth. Still, she made no move to stop him, and he explored her with his hands gratefully. Her hooves played with his spines, and she moaned quietly against his mouth as his claws dug into her flank. They were so sharp, so dangerous, they could cut into her like the fabric he'd cut for her. Her tongue ran along his fangs, and she imagined them biting down on gemstones, with such power that the stone would shatter. Instinctively, she squirmed in his grip, and pulled away from him. He opened his eyes in time to see the flash of fear across her face, and he understood the problem immediately. Ecstasy faded quickly, and something close to horror came to take its place.

"R-Rarity?" he spluttered. It was as if he hadn't used his voice in years. He had a pleading look in his eyes, and the unicorn tried to avoid it by looking down at his chest. But it was impossible, she found, when he asked her the question:

"Are--Are you afraid of me?"

She looked at him, and he got his answer. "No," she said, and he believed her. But he still saw something terrifying in her eyes, something that was perhaps even worse than fear. So he asked her what was wrong.

"Nothing," she said quickly, then shut her eyes and shook her head. She was silent for a moment, then slowly said, "No. That's a lie. I don't want to lie to you, Spike." She looked back up at him, her eyes bright and sad, shimmering like freshly polished sapphires. "Please, Spike, like I asked...can we wait until after the Expo?"

"You said once the dresses were done..." He didn't want to know where this was going.

"You know what I meant, Spike, I-"

"You let me kiss you. You liked it. You loved it." He'd loved it, too.

"Yes, yes I did." She stroked his cheek with a hoof and gave him a sweet smile. "And no matter how hard I may try to forget, which I never shall, that moment will stay in my memory for the rest of my life. And, I'm sure, once the Expo is over, there will be many more moments like it, but-"

"Why after the Expo? What does it matter?"

"Spike, please try to understand. I'm under so much stress right now, and-"

"You just said your stress was gone!" He felt anger flare underneath the horror.

"I know, and I'm sorry, but I don't want to worry about this right now-"

"Worry about what?"

"I don't want to worry about what ponies might say!"

It was even worse then he'd thought it would sound. Spike's arms fell to his sides. Rarity covered her mouth with a hoof as he took a step back, giving her a sad, broken look. He looked... disappointed. She began to speak, trying to fix her mistake:

"Spike, I meant-" But he stopped her, before she could explain.

"No no no!" Now he looked a tad bit manic. The drake held his hands up in front of him like he was warding her off. "I know what you meant. You don't want anypony thinking you're in a relationship with some sort of monster." He gritted his teeth and growled the last word, hating how true his words were. He shut his eyes when Rarity let a sob escape her lips.

"No, Spike, I wasn't talking about me!"

He took another step back and gave a distorted sort of chuckle. "Of course not. It would be terrible if ponies knew. They'd never buy dresses from you, and that would put you out of a home. I can't imagine what kind of Tartarus you'd put your friends and family through if that happened." He grabbed the railing to ensure that he didn't fall over backwards as he went on: "You're doing this for them, Rarity. You're the Element of Generosity, after all: the happiness of others comes before your own."

"I meant you, Spike! What would ponies say about you?"

"DO YOU THINK I CARE?!?" He'd finally lost his temper and raised his voice to a shout. Taking control of himself once more, he lowered his voice, looked to the ground and said, "I got used to the insults years ago, Rarity. I had to. You know I don't give a flying buck what anypony thinks of me." He gritted his teeth, and looked back up at her. "You, though, are still very much influenced by the opinions of others. One word about your mane, and you'd change it in a second."

"Spike, I know you're angry, but if you just listen to me-"

"You feel the need to be adored by everypony in Canterlot! You have to be the most fashionable, the most chic, the, what was it you said? "The pony that everypony should know," right?" He tilted his head questioningly at her, and stepped back again. He was about halfway to the balcony doors now. "Right?"

She was trying to sound as collected as possible, even with tears running down her face without permission. "I don't want anypony hurting you-"

"Well, congratulations!" He let go of the banister, and finally turned away from the ivory mare. "You've done a wonderful job! I only feel like one pony's truly hurt me here. And it wasn't the sous-chef, by the way."

"Spike, please, we can talk about this-"

"No. No we can't." He stepped off the balcony, and made his way to the door. "I'll see you at the Expo. Don't worry, I'll try not to lick my own ass whenever you're nearby." And with that, he was gone. Rarity stared at the door he slammed shut, and for a few seconds she was completely silent. Then, with no care for running mascara, she cried, shutting her eyes and collapsing into a pile on the balcony floor.

Outside her room, Spike stood at the door, leaning against it heavily. He gripped his chest tightly, and breathed hard. He felt as though something was trying to burst from his chest, and tears of both pain and sorrow ran down his face. From the other side of the door, he could hear his love sobbing loudly. He bit into his lip (he could still taste vanilla) until it bled, and waited for the painful pressure in his chest to stop. He knew what this was; it had happened before. Like the other times, he suppressed it, but this time it had been harder to hold back than any other instance he'd felt like going feral. He jokingly wondered to himself if this is what heartbreak felt like for dragons, or any creature, for that matter. He slid down the door until he was sitting, his legs sticking out at awkward angles. Patiently, he waited for the pain to pass. When it did enough to prevent him from changing, he got up, slowly made his way through the castle back to his and Twilight's room, and lay down on his bed. He looked at the coffee table near Twilight's bed, where his sapphire necklace lay alone. He stared at it for a long, long time, and wished he hadn't said "ass" in front of her.

"...can't imagine the teasing when you were young. Was it as bad as I'm imagining?"

"..."

"Mr. Sparkle?"

Spike opened his eyes and looked back over at Fancypants. The mustached stallion was smiling up at him, a martini held in his magical grip. The drake fiddled with his own glass, and coughed.

"Uh, sorry?"

"Goodness, that champagne must be stronger to you than I thought! I'd asked if you were teased, as a child."

Spike sipped his drink again. It wasn't strong, his mind had just been somewhere else. Specifically, on the other side of the room, next to Rarity, who was having a chat with a pony he recognized as the leading expert on color mixture in fabrics (Rarity had shown him plenty of magazine articles while they'd worked). He was unsure if she knew he was here, and was even less sure if she wanted him to be here, but he'd intended to talk with her when she was done laughing at one of the Colormare's haughty jokes. Fancypants, however, had chosen the moment to approach him and strike up a conversation. He was one of a very small number of ponies at the Fashion Expo (which was run by Fancypants' company this year, explaining his presence at the event) that did not give him any strange looks when he passed by.

Spike shut his eyes, remembering his years in Canterlot. "It wasn't bad," he finally said, "once I got to Ponyville. Ponies there didn't seem as fazed by me as they were in Canterlot. And don't call me 'Mr. Sparkle.' That's Twilight's dad." Another sip, and he went back to watching Rarity from afar. He was trying to think of what to say, or if he should say anything. Didn't want to embarrass her, after all.

But Fancypants still wanted to talk. "Then I assume it was not as easy living here as it has been in Ponyville?"

Spike didn't move his eyes from Rarity. "No. No it wasn't."

"Hmm." Fancypants followed the gaze of the purple drake, and when his eyes rested on Rarity he said, "Ah. Of course." He chuckled, and sipped his martini. "How is Rarity, then? I spoke with her earlier, but she didn't seem very chatty."

He still didn't look away. "She's doing fine. Her business is going to boom, after this. It'll be great for her, she'll be so happy."

"And how are you and her?"

"What are you talking about?"

"I'm talking about your relationship, old sport! What else?"

He frowned. "There is no relationship. We're--I'm her assistant from time to time. That's all."

Fancypants laughed again. "My dear lad, that most certainly is not all. I've seen you two together before, on other trips to Canterlot. I can see that look in your eyes: it's the same one I got when I first met my wife."

Spike tore his eyes from the ivory unicorn and her conversation partner, and looked down at Fancypants. "What look?"

"The look of somepony, or dragon, in this case, who is quite obviously in love."

"Yeah, well, maybe I thought I was. But...I'm done with that now."

Fancypants gave Spike a look that told him the stallion didn't believe his story. "Really? Then why have you been staring at her the entire time we've had this conversation?"

"I'm not staring at her, I'm looking at you."

"Spike, lad, answer the question."

Spike sighed. "I've been waiting for her to be alone, so I can talk to her."

"Talk about what?"

"Something happened earlier today, and I have to talk with her about it."

Fancypants finished his drink, and set it on the tray of a passing waiter. "And what exactly happened earlier today?"

Spike's eye twitched. "Fancypants, you have no idea how glad I am to know that there's somepony in this place that won't start shaking in their hooves when I walk up to them and try to have a conversation, but please, let this mess remain between Rarity and I."

The monocled unicorn sighed, and stroked his mustache. "Well, far be it from me to meddle with your personal affairs, old sport. Allow me to give a bit of advice, though."

"Shoot."

"If you still love this mare, and I think you do, I don't think it would be wise to make a fool of yourself, especially with the bias already set up around you." He patted Spike on the back with a hoof. "Don't do anything rash." He began to walk away, but stopped and turned back to the drake.

"Oh, and, one last thing: don't be worried about embarrassing her. She isn't that kind of pony anymore." Then he disappeared into the crowd of high-class mare and stallions attending the Expo. Spike was left to contemplate his last words, and just how in Luna's mane he knew what Spike was angry about.

"I spoke with her earlier, but she didn't seem very chatty."

He looked back over to where Rarity was. She was alone now, staring at a group of outrageously large hats. Spike sighed, knowing that he'd end up forgiving her like always, and began to move through the mildly large crowd of ponies, ready to sort things out with her for good.

I'm in one and out one, and I get a full dose of memory jogging from it. All the windows rush past, fleeing from something unseen in the distant gray. I don't move, wanting to dive into another window, but they all rush past after that first one. A wall of pure white is assembling itself in front of me, and once again, I hear hoofsteps from behind me. I try to turn, but I've once again been rendered motionless by the power of this dreamworld. So I watch the bright glow of the window-wall grow, and grow, and grow. My eyes are burning from the light, and I can't close them to stop it. I wish I could move, to get away from this wall, which is growing larger and larger. The hoofsteps are getting louder, louder, louder, louder...

They stop. Absolute silence, and only the glow of the window-wall.

Wake up... Something whispers in my ear, and if I could I would nod. The world begins to fill in, I can start to feel the sheets I'm wrapped in, and I hear, from far off, the words of my good friend Blue.

You have to go back...

Waking up sucks this morning, for two major reasons. First, the gems left an awful taste in my mouth from the night before. Second, for the first time, I can clearly remember my dreams for the first time since I got here. And you know what?

Spike can have my old life. I never want to go back to Ponyville.