Once again, everypony seemed to have forgotten about Spike.
It was a common enough occurrence, one that he knew wasn't malicious in its intent. It was simply something that he, as a male baby dragon who predominantly spent his time around six adult mares, had to deal with. He didn't hold any ill will towards them; Twilight was like a sister to him, and the other girls all treated him very well. He loved them, and he knew they loved him in return. When they got caught up in their own business, though, it wasn't at all uncommon for them to seemingly forget he was even around.
Letting Rarity go had been much harder on him than he'd let on to Twilight. She and their friends had the tendency to refer to his feelings for the fashionista as simply a childhood crush and nothing more. To Spike, however, it was far more than that. He was not afraid to say that he was in love with Rarity. She was simply stunning, the most beautiful creature he had ever laid eyes on. It wasn't just her physical beauty, though. She held a rare (no pun intended) quality: absolute, unwavering generosity. Such a thing was not a surprise. She did, after all, bear that very element. She was always giving of herself, usually doing so without the slightest thought of her own needs or desires. If a friend needed, or even just wanted, something that she could reasonably provide, she would do her best to provide it to them, even if it meant giving up something of her own.
It was for that reason that Spike gave up on her when Twilight told him of her newfound feelings for her. It certainly wasn't something he wanted at first. In fact, there were still times, even as recently as a few weeks ago when he watched her enter the library in a stunning evening gown, where he regretted his decision, albeit only briefly. When Twilight had informed him of the entire situation involving the love spell and her feelings for Rarity sprouting from it, he had not been a very happy dragon. He had loved Rarity for a long time at that point, and for somepony--not just anypony, but somepony who knew of his feelings, somepony who was essentially a sister to him--to suddenly claim feelings for her was terrible to him. Rarity was supposed to be his. Not somepony else's; his. He had stewed for some time over it, even going as far as to try and figure out a way to keep Twilight from confessing her love. It had taken quite a lot of self-reflection before he realized that to do such a thing was wrong. He loved Rarity, and he loved Twilight, and for those reasons, he had to let Twilight talk to her about it. He knew for a fact that Twilight was a wonderful pony, and could make Rarity very happy if both of them so desired. As much as he wanted to be with her, he had to return the generosity that Rarity always showed everypony. If Rarity didn't return Twilight's feelings, then maybe he could keep trying for her, but he couldn't stand in the way.
He caught sight of their first kiss shared under no false pretenses. He was there when they excitedly shared the news of their relationship to their friends. He would help Twilight get ready for their dates, and even provide pointers on what she should wear based on the little bits of fashion tips he'd gleaned from Rarity. He would tell Rarity of Twilight's favorite authors and tip her off on what Twilight was currently reading so she could engage her with conversation about it. Each and every time, his heart ached, but each time, the ache would be slightly easier to deal with. He knew he was doing the right thing every time Rarity thanked him for his assistance, every time Twilight bubbled over how wonderfully their date had gone, every time he overheard Twilight gushing to one of their friends about how much she loved her Precious Jewel and every time Rarity said the same about her Sparkle Kitten. Two of the most important ponies in the world to him were undeniably happy, which served as more than enough vindication for having given up his love.
Trixie threatened all of that. Spike hadn't trusted her from the moment he was made aware of her arrival, bad blood from their previous meeting having boiled anew. Once he'd been made aware of their little tryst some time ago, things got simultaneously better and worse. Part of him figured that if Twilight had seen enough good in her to do things which he preferred not to ask about with her, then maybe she wasn't the awful pony he'd thought she was. At the same time, if Spike knew anything about trashy romance novels (and he did, thanks to his time spent enduring Rarity's swooning over them in order to spend more time with her), an ex-marefriend suddenly coming to visit and declaring an intent to win her former love's heart back was bad news. He'd made sure to keep alert while Trixie was around, an endeavor which got him in trouble once or twice. To say that Trixie was displeased when she caught him watching her enter the bathroom was an understatement, despite his protests that it wasn't at all what it looked like. Often enough, though, he went entirely unnoticed. Such was the singular benefit of being forgotten about here and there; it made snooping and spying that much easier.
Spike had to admit, however, that he was not a very good spy. Although he had his inklings, he had found no concrete evidence that Trixie was doing anything wrong. Sure, she wasn't always the nicest of ponies to him. Sure, she seemed to be spending quite a lot of time around Twilight. Neither one of these things, though, was reason enough to accuse her of the wrongdoing he was hoping to pin on her. They could both be easily explained away; the first as either a clash of personalities or a response to the few times she'd caught him snooping, and the second as her just wishing to spend time with a friend. It wasn't as if she was trying to force herself on Twilight (an image he didn't really want to delve into) in their time together. As much as he wished it wasn't the case, all of Spike's "evidence" was anything but. Simply a judgment based on a feeling he had and a pre-existing bias against Trixie.
This still didn't stop him from sneaking out to see Rarity. The sadness that he saw in her face before she left the library was too much for him to bear, especially after having spent most of the late night helping to console a despondent Twilight. He had given up his love to make two of the most important ponies in the world to him happy, and now they weren't. This was not okay at all. He couldn't talk to Twilight about it with Trixie around, so this was the obvious choice. He had no idea what he'd say to the poor unicorn, and he hoped to Celestia as he approached Carousel Boutique that he would come up with something good. The story that he'd heard of what Rarity did just didn't seem very Rarity-like to him, and he was determined to get to the bottom of it. He looked Carousel Boutique over as he approached, weighing his options. He could rappel up the wall to her bedroom window, or he could knock on the front door. He figured the choice was obvious.
Rarity stared wistfully at her surroundings. She had worked hard to make such a nice living for herself in Ponyville. She had earned everything she owned, and she had a lot to be proud of. As such, it was that much harder for her to say goodbye to all of it. It wasn't something she wanted to do. She loved her boutique, and she would miss her friends terribly. It was a regretful necessity, something she couldn't even hope to avoid. She could no longer live here, for everything reminded her of Twilight, and she could not have that. Nor could she remain in Twilight's presence; such a luxury was something she did not deserve. She had been entrusted with the purple beauty's heart, and in a moment of drunken idiocy, she'd shattered it. Exile was clearly the only option. Certainly a mare of her talents could find a new place to make a living, right? A place where her name was not as known, and her misdeeds less so. She glanced around the room, sighing heavily. She would miss every single bit of it. The lovely bed. The beautiful carpet. The slightly garish grappling hook attached to the outside of her window.
Rarity blinked. She didn't remember leaving a grappling hook on her window. Infiltration chic had gone out of style months ago. She carefully approached the window, levitating a vase alongside her. Her sadness would not leave her helpless, and she would make this burglar pay for attempting to compound upon her depression with an attempted robbery. Upon the first sight of her assailant's head breaching the windowsill, she let her weapon fly.
Spike came to a few minutes later, though to him it seemed like a mere moment. He rubbed his eyes, watching the white unicorn who'd caused his loss of consciousness pace worriedly about her room. He ran a claw through his crest, loosening a small shard of vase that had been ensconced there. Apparently, his stirring had caught Rarity's attention, and he quickly found himself surrounded in soft white fur as Rarity hugged him close to her chest.
"I'm so, so sorry, Spikey-Wikey!" Rarity exclaimed as she held him. "I thought I was being attacked, and after the horrific things I've been through recently, I acted without thinking! Please forgive me!"
Spike said nothing for a few moments, letting his mind wander as he took in Rarity's scent and enjoyed the feeling of his face against her warm body. He felt a primal part of his mind poke at him, telling him that maybe things would be best if he didn't try to do what he'd come here for. He quickly dismissed this thought. Now was not the time for selfishness.
"It's okay, Rarity," Spike groaned. "It was an accident...and I probably could have chosen a better, although less fun, way to come in." He squirmed slightly, attempting to escape before he got too used to the physical comfort and forgot the task at hand. He figured Rarity had taken notice of his actions, as she let him go with a sigh.
"I understand if you don't want to be too close to me, Spike," the fashionista said with more than a hint of sadness in her tone. "I am a terrible pony, and do not deserve your friendship, nor that of any of the ponies whom I have held dear." She sighed heavily, trying to fight the tears that were threatening to return. "I am surprised you even came to talk to me at all. Surely you must think me a monster for hurting Twilight."
"No, Rarity," came Spike's answer. "I don't." The unicorn turned back to him, a look of surprise on her face.
"You don't?" she asked incredulously.
"I don't," Spike confirmed. "Because I know you wouldn't just do that to Twilight. I know there has to be something more to this."
"Well, yes," Rarity concurred. "You see, some beverages contain a thing called alcohol, and when one drinks too much..."
"I know what alcohol is, Rarity," Spike said, rolling his eyes a bit. "But I'm saying that something seems wrong anyway!"
"I appreciate your concern, Spike," the seamstress said, remorse lining each of her words. "But I know when I have done wrong." She bit her lip as she began to remove some of her belongings from her drawers, setting them down in a nearby suitcase. "And I know when it is best to fold one's hoof in half and redraw elsewhere." Spike frowned. He knew what she meant despite her botched attempt at making a poker analogy. He never figured her to be much of a gambler anyway.
"You can't leave town, Rarity!" Spike exclaimed. "We'll all miss you! Twilight most of all!" The unicorn frowned even more, despite the lines it would cause.
"Twilight told me herself that she did not wish to see me," Rarity replied.
"That's because she doesn't know the truth!" Spike told her. "...Whatever it is!" He nearly grabbed that long, beautiful purple mane to pull her face closer to his, but quickly thought better. She was upset enough; mussing her precious mane up would certainly not help matters. "Look, I don't know what's going on here, but I don't trust Trixie at all, and I know there has to be some bit of the story that's missing!" His words dripped with a conviction that he had no concrete way of backing up, as if he were hoping to overcome a lack of factual evidence with sheer bravado. To his credit, his words were strong enough to make Rarity hesitate in her task.
"Spike, I cannot see a way where this is not my fault," the unicorn said, although the gears in her head were turning. "I drank too much, I made a terrible error, and..."
"But you would never do that!" Spike insisted, restraining the urge to shout. "Just...I dunno, just go back over the events of the night! Maybe something weird happened that you didn't realize at the time!"
"Spike, you read far too many detective comics," Rarity told him, beginning to go back to packing. Her efforts were held back as Spike hugged Rarity's leg in desperation.
"Please!" Spike begged. Rarity couldn't help but sniffle a bit, touched by how dedicated Spike was to not letting her leave. She sighed to herself, then gave the dragon a weak smile.
"Okay, Spike," she said, gently nudging him until he let go. She then sat down on the bed, quickly joined by Spike.
"Alright!" the dragon said, tapping his chin. "So what exactly happened? Start from the beginning of the night." Rarity sighed; it was painful recounting the evening, but she still did so to indulge Spike.
"...And then she passed the next drink to me," Rarity said, getting more and more tense as she got closer to the moment of betrayal.
"With her hoof or with magic?" Spike asked, jotting notes down on a pad that he'd requested shortly after they'd began. The unicorn rolled her eyes.
"Is that really important?" Rarity asked.
"Every detail is important!" Spike insisted.
"Well, she passed it with her hoof," Rarity answered. Then she hesitated. "...But her horn was still lit." She and Spike stared at each other, gears spinning rapidly. It was at that moment, as she recalled the passing of each drink, that Rarity thanked the heavens for her attention to detail.
"...Spike?" Rarity asked.
"Yes, Rarity?" Spike replied.
"How would you like to help me with a plan?"
"Anything for you, Rarity."