Winter was wrapped up, and spring was sprouting. The winter had been longer and colder than normal – Pegasus Weather Control insisted on such things periodically – but today’s breeze was very pleasant and the weather promised to be fine. This beautiful morning saw Spike meeting Apple Bloom at the old treehouse on top of the hill in one of the more secluded corners of Sweet Apple Acres.
“Howdy, Spike. ‘Fraid I don’t have any herbs on me, you’ll have to talk to Zecora by yourself.” The yellow mare had just finished setting up a sawhorse and put a plank of wood on top of it.
“I’m not looking for herbs,” chuckled Spike. “Twilight said she’s ‘reshelving’, and that usually means she wants to be alone, so I thought I’m come and see what you were up to. Big Mac said you’d probably be here.”
“Yup. Thought I’d take a little time today to do some repairs on the old clubhouse. The latest batch of Cutie Mark Crusaders really did a number on the place.”
“A number” was putting it mildly, Spike thought. He was pretty sure the treehouse was supposed to have four walls and more roof than that.
With remarkable dexterity, Apple Bloom maneuvered a short saw with her mouth, holding the plank of wood against the sawhorse with her front hooves.
“Here, let me help.” Spike steadied the plank with his hands. For all of Apple Bloom’s skill with her mouth and hooves, his claws and their opposable digits were superior for nearly every task. He would’ve taken the saw for her, but he wasn’t sure what she wanted done with it.
“Thankf.” Apple Bloom mumbled around the handle, then deftly sawed the plank in two.
“I think it’s pretty cool that the Crusaders are still going on,” said Spike, picking up another piece of wood for her.
Apple Bloom remembered the day they let Pipsqueak and Dinky join, and the younger foals had invited their own friends, so even as Scootaloo and then Sweetie Belle found their talents and “graduated” the ranks of the Cutie Mark Crusaders grew. Apple Bloom, though still blank, eventually stopped coming to the meetings. It belonged to the next generation of late bloomers now, and she felt more and more an outsider in their games. Even supervising them felt like an intrusion: she always wanted to warn them away from their more dangerous and ridiculous plans, but she knew that those were the most fun.
A couple hours later, they looked at their handiwork. The roof was repaired, the siding refinished, and the lightning rod, a fairly recent addition, straightened out.
“You’re such a talented carpenter, Apple Bloom. Are you sure that’s not your cutie mark?”
She shook her head, smiling. “I thought of that. I do like to build, but it doesn’t feel like my real talent, y’know? It’s like how Pinkie Pie is a great ice skater but that’s not her mark.”
Spike felt like an idiot, but Apple Bloom didn’t seem upset.
“Heeey guys!” Spike turned to see a golden yellow eye looking at him. There was another eye paired with it, but that one was looking up and away from him.
“Hi Der–er, Ditzy.” Though the gray pegasus who owned the eyes didn’t seem to mind the nickname, Spike was trying to get out of the habit of using it: Twilight always gave him an earful if she heard him say it.
“What’re you doin’ out in the rain?” Ditzy Doo asked, perfectly sincere even as the sun was reflecting off her bright yellow mane.
Apple Bloom looked up into the dazzling blue sky. “Derpy, it ain’t rainin’. There’s barely a cloud in the sky.”
“Not yet, but it’s gonna rain in a minute. There was some kinda mixup, and this area is in for a big storm any time now.”
“Wait, really?” A pony like Rainbow Dash might’ve told them that as a prank, but Ditzy didn’t have a deceitful bone in her body.
“Yep, really. Look, here’s the weather team now!”
Above, they saw angry dark stormclouds speeding across the sky, propelled by tiny dots.
Spike looked at Apple Bloom “Do we have time to get back to the main house?”
“Doesn’t look like it.” The pegasi were amazingly fast: already the sky was almost completely black with clouds.
“I’d get under cover if I were you,” suggested Derpy cheerfully, then flew off into the sky as lightning cracked and the rain began to fall. Apple Bloom and Spike made a mad dash into the treehouse and shut the door.
“Now I’m really glad we fixed that lightning rod,” said Apple Bloom, shaking drops off her coat.
“Here, let me.” Spike breathed out gently: not proper fire, but warm, dry breath that ruffled her fur and dried it in moments. When they were both dry, they turned to look out the window.
“Wow. It’s really pouring.”
“Guess there’s nothing to do but wait for it to stop.”
She leaned on him as they watched the storm, pleased as always at how warm he was. And he smelled good after a soaking. It was a complicated smell, rich and powerful. He leaned against her in turn, feeling the softness of her freshly dried coat.
The watched the rain for a few minutes, then at once broke the silence between them.
“You know…” she started
“I’ve really…” he began.
They stopped, looked at each other, laughed.
“You first,” she said.
“I just wanted to say that I’ve really had fun hanging out with you lately.”
“Me too, Spike. You’re pretty special, you know?”
“Thanks, AB. You’re special to me too.”
She gently nuzzled the side of his head: a casual sign of affection, nothing more. As she inhaled more of his scent, though, she noticed a sudden tightness in her belly, and a slow, spreading feeling of warmth from somewhere else in her body.
Spike’s nostrils widened. Through the dampness, he picked up a new smell, and he felt her whole body go rigid against him.
“What’s wrong?”
She felt the warmth grow stronger: it was in her hind legs now, moving all through her like a hungry fever. Apple Bloom knew this feeling: it had happened to her a few times before. But never like this, so strong, and so close to a mature male. He might be scaly, and a different species altogether, but still a male, able to give her body what it desired, what it needed. A tiny part of her mind told her to fight, to ignore it, but her body spoke much louder.
Apple Bloom leaned against Spike a little more urgently, nearly knocking him down. That new smell was getting stronger, and Spike noticed a sensation in his own body, a tingling feeling at the base of his tail.
“AB… you’re in season, aren’t you?” The young dragon stood up and tried to back away from her.
“What if I am?” she said, stepping closer without realizing she was doing so.
“I… I should go, then. I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.” To say nothing of his own discomfort.
“It’s still pouring out there!” Which was true, but she would’ve said anything to make him stay.
“I’ll be okay. I just…” He tried to break for the door but with a startling burst of speed, she positioned herself between him and the exit.
“Wait. Don’t go. Please.”
“Twilight’s told me about this. You’re not thinking straight, you don’t know what you’re doing-“
“I know what I’m doin’, Spike, an’ I know what I want.” Her eyes told him exactly what that was.
Her smell was intoxicating: that feeling at the base of his tail was overpowering. Spike had been around mares in heat before, though it was only recently that he’d really started to notice, and they’d never affected him this strongly before. He vaguely remembered Twilight mentioning, during a long-winded lecture on the subject, that a mare’s earlier seasons were her most intense, when her feelings and signals were at their most irresistible and her techniques of control the least developed.
But it wasn’t just physical. This was somepony he cared for deeply. Somepony he wanted to be closer to, and to give happiness to. Spike wanted to be with her, but he didn’t want to take advantage of her. He didn’t want her to be hurt, to feel like she’d been used, nor did he want her to feel rejected. And his body had its own desires, and it began to put its own plans into action while his mind debated. He knew if he didn’t leave right now, he wouldn’t be able to. And if he didn’t leave…
“I want you too, but-“
“But nothin'.” She moved closer and put her face to his, and he was lost.
They lay together afterwards, steam rising from their bodies, gasping and warm and sated.
“That was… wow.” Spike breathed when he could speak again.
“Mmm.” Apple Bloom cuddled against him, feeling more comfortable and relaxed than she could ever remember being.
“I never knew I could feel this way.”
“I never knew someone could make me feel this way. You really are special.”
Embracing each other, they fell asleep.
When they woke up, the rain had stopped and night had fallen. The pegasi had gathered up the remnants of the stormclouds for recycling, and the moon was shining cold and hard on the trees. Spike disentangled himself from Apple Bloom’s legs, trying not to wake her, but the moonlight in her eyes told him she was already awake.
“What time is it?” he asked
“Way past time for us to get home, I’m sure.” Even so, she was reluctant to get back on her hooves, not wanting to move from this warm, comfortable spot.
“Umm… Apple Bloom?”
“Yes?” She stirred to look at him, and saw the worry filling his eyes.
“I couldn’t… I mean, there’s no chance you could get pregnant from that, right?
“Ah… Naw. No way. Right? I mean, we’re so different.” She nodded confidently.
Reassured by her certainty, Spike grinned and said “Not SO different,” gently running a hand down her back. Apple Bloom giggled and kicked at him, deliberately missing.
“Go on home, Spike. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
***
Spike gently opened and shut the library door, hoping to get to his room without Twilight waking up. Alas, he heard the door to Twilight’s room creak as soon as he’d opened his own.
“Spike? Where’ve you been?”
He couldn’t bring himself to turn and look at her.
“Er… me and Apple Bloom-“
“Apple Bloom and I” corrected Twilight groggily.
“Right – we were working on the old Crusader treehouse and got caught in the rain.”
“You’ve been spending a lot of time with her lately, haven’t you?” Spike felt the blood drain from his face. “That’s good,” said Twilight. “I’m sure she’s lonely without Scootaloo and Sweetie Belle around.”
“Yeah…”
“She’s not still worried about the cutie mark, is she? If she is, be sure to tell her that plenty of ponies her age still don’t have them. It’s a little unusual, but it’s nothing to worry about.”
“Sure thing, Twilight. I’m, er, not feeling so great after being out in the rain. I’m gonna go to bed.”
“Okay. ‘Night Spike.”
***
Alone in her room, Apple Bloom sighed. She knew that she’d done something very foalish, in more than one sense. If it had been a stallion she was with, she could very well have had a foal by this time next year. Hadn’t her sister warned her, over and over again? Hadn’t she heard enough stories of young, unprepared mares suddenly saddled with the incredible responsibility of a new life?
Still, Apple Bloom couldn’t bring herself to regret what had happened. Sure, looking back on it now she could see that the experience had been awkward and urgent and had taken place in a wholly inappropriate environment, but she couldn’t deny having enjoyed it immensely. She was still tingling a bit. And besides, she thought, there was no way she could get pregnant from Spike. A dragon and a pony? Impossible. She felt a pang of sadness as she thought that, imagining a possible future together – but no. For right now, that was best.
Apple Bloom insists that she began taking fertility suppressants shortly after, mixing them herself at Zecora’s hut. She claims this mainly stemmed from doubts of her own self-control, rather than doubts of her and Spike’s incompatibility. The two had only a few encounters after that, both being busy with other responsibilities. It wasn’t until late summer that she found out their first time was all it took.