Tough Stains
The entire marketplace had erupted into complete and utter hysteria the first time he entered the square after going through a second growth spurt. Grocers abandoned their stalls and wares, shoppers forgot their saddlebags filled with purchases and golden bits, and more than one mother left her foal behind in the midst of the panic. Fresh produce laid scattered in the dust, bruised and squashed. Tomatoes and peaches spilled their innards and juices onto the ground as apples and oranges rolled about like discarded marbles. The once proud stalls that had advertised the greatest fruits and vegetables in all of Equestria had been smashed into smaller wooden chunks during their owners' frantic and hurried attempts to escape.
Spike had simply picked up a few of those wooden pieces and went home, mentally checking off firewood from his groceries list, along with a few potatoes that had survived. He left a few bits behind, hoping that they would be enough to satisfy the clerks.
That was a long time ago, and with the help of the wiser, older, and more knowledgeable ponies of the town, the novelty of his new appearance and presence wore off. Still, even today, years after that one fateful market day, Spike could feel the odd looks the booth attendants and his fellow shoppers kept throwing at him. He really couldn't blame them for staring. After all, who could have ever imagine seeing a dragon stroll into the local farmers market with a pink woven basket on his arm?
Pink was such an awful color after all; it clashed horrifically with those purple scales of his.
"Good afternoon," Spike said cheerfully to just about every pony he bumped into. Some would respond similarly while others, the newcomers who were still getting used to the town, would pale and occasionally cower before his draconic figure, never mind that he was usually barely a head or so taller. Those that knew him personally would try to stop and make small talk. How's the wife, they'd say, or where did you get that delightful little basket, or did you hear the latest gossip?
They were unicorns, earth ponies, even pegasi, of all different colors and figures and accents. They all shared two features however; they were all ponies, and they were all females. If he ever did run into another male, it was usually a stallion running a cherry stand or a husband or coltfriend dragged into the market against his will.
There was no mare next to Spike's side. She hated groceries shopping. He was here on his own account. The basket, horrendous as it was, was his own, a gift from an old friend of theirs.
Spike reached into the basket and removed a small scroll of parchment. "Let's see," he muttered. "Two dozen eggs...mushrooms...tomatoes..."
"Hey, howdy!"
Spike tore his eyes from the list and spun around. A young earth pony leaned against the wagon behind him, waving. She wore a weathered wide brimmed hat, perfect for keeping the sun out of one's eyes during a long day of farm work. A red ponytail extended out from beneath the hat, tied together with a red ribbon. She wore a bright smile that did not fade even after Spike had returned it with a toothy grin of his own.
"Good morning, Apple Bloom," the dragon said, walking towards the wagon filled with apples. "Making a delivery?"
"Tryin' to set shop, actually," Apple Bloom said. "Ah'm in charge of the stand today, what with Applejack confined and everythin'."
"How's she doing? It's been..." Spike scratched the back of his head. "...four months, right?"
"Four and a half," the mare corrected. "And she's moodier than a dog stuck inside on a rainy day. Ah love her and all, but Ah can't stand her complainin'. Ah feel sorry for Big Macintosh."
"Why? What happened to him?"
"Somepony had to tell her she had to take a break from workin' now that she's startin' to show, and Soarin's on tour, but you know that as well as Ah do."
Spike nodded. He probably knew better, even.
"Well, Big Mac was volunteered, and it wasn' a pretty sight. A few minutes later, poor guy ran out of Applejack's room, cryin'."
"Wow. Crying, really? Big Macintosh, no kidding?"
"No kiddin'," Apple Bloom said, shuddering. "That's a sight Ah hope Ah never see again. We've had to keep those two separate, 'cause Applejack keeps tryin' to injure him."
"That's, uh..." Spike struggled for a word. "...rather worrying. You sure this is something we should be talking about in public?"
"Yeah, why not? It's actually kinda funny, watchin' Applejack try and sit on Big Mac. She thinks if he breaks something, he'll have no choice but to let her keep working. Then a second later, Sis'll break down and apologize." The young mare shook her head. "Whatever those hormones are, and I'm not askin' for a lecture, Mr. Former Assistant Librarian, they're makin' Applejack crazy and the rest of the house insane. You and Rainbow should visit sometime."
"Duly noted," Spike said in an even tone. "I was actually planning to stop by later today to grab a bottle of cider, but I'd hate to drop in so suddenly, especially after hearing all this. I doubt Applejack would like being bothered."
"Hmph, Big Mac's been hiding all of our extras. Sorry Spike, Ah can't help you there."
"Why? Applejack's not drinking, is she?" Spike asked, alarmed.
"Nah, it's Granny. She's one of the most patient mare Ah've ever known, but even she's just a regular pony. You've had lunch yet?" Apple Bloom gestured to the several apples in her cart.
"No, but I had a pretty late breakfast, so I'm fine. We could use a few more apples, though."
"Well, of course you could," Apple Bloom chuckled. "You can always use more apples, even if you don't. Let's see, we've got your red deliciouses, perfect for pies, fritters, sauces, ciders, and great for just plan eatin'. Course, if you're lookin' for something a little more..."
*
He did not live in the town proper. It was much too noisy, too loud and crowded nowadays. A decent house that sat some distance away served as their home. It was, for a lack of a better term, fine. Adequate. Alright. It was larger than the average cottage, big enough for the both of them. There were no leaks, it was close enough to town and to good friends, the neighbors were tolerable and some even friendly, with one possible exception, and there even was a cute little white mailbox with a cute little flag next to the cute little white picket fence. There was nothing he could complain about it.
It wasn't made of clouds, Rainbow Dash had joked, so it was a few literal steps below her previous accommodation. Spike and the realtor had had no response.
"Good morning, Tank," Spike called out to the tortoise lounging in the front lawn. "Did you have a nice nap?"
Tank yawned and slowly smiled. He approached the dragon and gave him a nudge on the knee.
"Sorry pal, but you know the rules. No flying without Rainbow watching," Spike said, giving the tortoise a pat on the head. "Yeah, I know, it sucks, but what are you going to do, ask her to quit the Wonderbolts? You've got a better chance beating her in a race." He pulled out an apple from his basket, ripped it apart, and tossed the smaller piece to Tank, who ate it as he slowly followed Spike inside. "Did you know there was a sale on celery today? Thirty percent off! And Golden Harvest, you know, the mare Angel keeps stealing carrots from, she was selling two for the price of one. I mean, it's not the freshest stuff, but at least it was cheap."
Spike carried the eggs toward the ice box. After placing the carton inside and appreciating the cool air, he removed a small bottle of pop and a letter that was on the door. Leaning against the kitchen counter, he began to read and reread, taking sips of the lime soda.
Tour just finished, the letter said, gotta visit my parents first, will be back tomorrow night. See you soon. RD
Her penmanship was horrible, something that hadn't improved over time. The message had been hurriedly scribbled on the back of a tacky Cloudsdale postcard, but Spike didn't mind. Just hearing from her set him at ease, and knowing she was coming home soon was a gift, second only to perhaps her actual presence.
Spike shut his eyes. She was coming home, to their house, to him. No more empty house, with just him and the pet tortoise. No more dinners by himself, at a table too large for a solitary dragon. No more lonely nights, where his only comforts were the night stand lamp and books.
Something tugged at his tail. Spike shook his head. "You're right, Tank. We've still got a lot to do first." The dragon got up and grabbed a faded red apron draped over a stool. "Come on, buddy," he said, shooing the tortoise away with a broom. "I can't work here with you inside. I'll find something for you to do later."
*
A low hum resonated through the kitchen as Spike carefully cut vegetables, dropping the ends off the side of the counter. Tank stood on guard, catching and devouring those less desired pieces whole and keeping the kitchen floor spotless. A large cookbook was leaned against the window sill, opened to a recipe for a cheese and mushroom casserole. It wasn't his favorite dish, Spike had to admitted, but Rainbow seemed to enjoy it at the restaurant they went to last month, right before she went on tour with the rest of the Wonderbolts.
He tossed set a few carrots to the side and began to dice the rest into smaller pieces. Satisfied, Spike tossed the carrot pieces into the bowl and stirred the mix thoroughly, until all of the ingredients were blended together.
"Well, if you ask me, it could use a few gems," Spike muttered as he flipped to the next page of the recipe. "Preheat at a temperature of...cook for about an hour at...okay, hmm, I could bake a pie at the same time. The oven's big enough." The dragon glanced over at a clock hanging on the opposite wall. "Yeah, I've got time. And apples," he added with a chuckle, shaking his head at the pile of apples spilling from his basket.
Tank lifted his head eagerly as Spike carried the basket over to the sink and began to peel the apples. "Sorry Tank," he said. "You know you can't have too much sugar. I don't care what Pinkie Pie feeds Gummy, Fluttershy said no more than half an apple a day."
A knock echoed from the front of the house. Spike hissed as the knife slipped and ran across his finger. He had been unlucky, and the knife had left a cut in the small space between the scales. It wasn't enough to draw blood, but it was painful nonetheless. As he placed the finger under a torrent of cold water, the knocking at the front door continued.
"What an annoying knock," Spike grumbled, quickly drying his hands on his apron and hurrying toward the door. "Hold your horses, I'm opening the door."
"Quite a phrase to use, Mr. the Dragon," came a voice from the other side.
"Oh ponyfeathers," Spike groaned. "Discord, what do you want?"
"Oh pooh, I'm just here to greet a neighbor and wish him a wonderful day," the draconequus assured, folding his misfit front appendages together in innocence. "Isn't that right, Fluttershy dearest?"
"We're on the way to Sweet Apple Acres," the mellow pegasus said, brushing a strand of pink hair out of her eyes. "Discord thought it might be a good idea to visit Applejack--"
"He would," Spike whispered, loud enough only for Discord to hear, who answered by sticking his tongue out.
"--and I agreed. It's been so long since we last spoke, I hope she's doing alright." Fluttershy smiled and held up her own pink woven basket. "We thought she might like some tea and company. Would you like to join us? That is, well, if you're not too busy." She gestured to the apron covering Spike's front.
"Yeah, not today," Spike said, slapping Discord's outstretching hands away from the apron.
"Ah, of course not," said Discord, fighting back a sneer. "Well, come along, dear Fluttershy, we don't want to keep Rainbow Dash's perfect housewife from her many duties."
"Discord!"
"What? It was a compliment. I called him perfect, didn't I?" Discord gave Spike a quick wink. "Love the apron, by the way. Pink is a good color on you, goes well with your scales. Well, ta ta!"
"Discord, wait," demanded Fluttershy a little too late, as the trickster had already vanished. "I'm really sorry about his behavior," she apologized. "He should know better."
"It's fine," Spike said, waving his hand in disregard. "He's been teasing me ever since Rainbow and I, well, got together. I know it doesn't mean anything. You'd better catch up with Discord, Applejack might actually rip him apart if you're not around."
"Are you sure you don't want to come too? I mean, if you're really busy, I understand."
"I'm sure," Spike said with a tired smile. "We'll visit later this weekend. Tell Applejack I said hi."
*
Spike's nostrils flared as he inhaled deeply. "Well, at least it smells alright," he said to Tank, who busied himself with a small rubber ball. "Doesn't look too burnt either." He carefully removed the casserole from the oven and set on the table to cool, next to the apple pie and a small salad. A pair of candles sat there as well, waiting to be lit.
The dragon took a step back to examine the entire scene. Candles, salad, main dish, dessert, nice silverware, plenty of napkins...still, Spike frowned. He pushed the salad to the side, giving more attention to the casserole. No, that wasn't it. He stuck a claw into his apron's pocket and produced a measuring tape. No, the candles were exactly the same height, from wick to the bottom of the wax.
"Something's missing," Spike mumbled. "Ah!" He pounded a fist into his palm as his eyes lit up, and he quickly exited the kitchen. By the time Tank had finished lifting his head, the dragon had returned, cradling a large glass bottle.
"It's not exactly Sweet Apple Acre cider," he said, "but I'm sure she won't mind too much. There." Spike placed the bottle right in the center of the table. "Perfect. Well, almost perfect," he amended, noting the empty seats.
Again, Spike left the kitchen, this time in the direction of the stairs leading to the second floor. He lowered himself onto all fours and made his ascent, careful to avoid damaging the wooden stairs with his claws. He tossed the stained apron into an empty laundry bin and opened the door to the bathroom. Spike turned the tap of the sizable bathtub and waited for the water to heat up. The smile he threw at the mirror quickly disappeared. "Wow," he exclaimed to his reflection, "no use lying, buddy, you looked terrible."
His purple cheeks were white with powder. His shoulders sagged as if he was wearing a backpack filled with stones. His ear fins were drooping lazily. At the sight of his tired reflection, Spike suddenly felt the exhaustion settle in, and he groaned as he stretched his arms, wincing at the pops and creaks that followed.
The dragon brushed his fingers against the water, then lowered himself into the tub. He sighed and grinned as the warm bath water blanketed his entire body. Spike's toes grabbed hold of the faucet nob and turned it. The water stopped flowing. He let his leg sink back underwater and closed his eyes.
For a minute, Spike allowed himself to soak, to let the bath massage his limbs, before releasing another sigh, this time filled with resignation, and his eyes quickly flew open. Sitting upright, he cupped some water with his claws and splashed his face several times before rubbing at his cheeks furiously. Ignoring the bottle of bubble mix, Spike reached for a bar of soap and a wash scrub and began to lather his arms, legs, neck, and face repeatedly. The coats of soap were quickly washed off, and soon the bath water became murky.
Spike got up, unplugged the tub and let the dirty water exit through the drain, and grabbed a towel. He gave his reflection another look and nodded. "Looking good, Spike, looking real good," he said, allowing himself a goofy smirk. He placed the wet towel back on its rack and hurried back downstairs.
"Six," he read off the clock. "I've got a little time left." Tank followed him into the small living room and plopped himself on the rug in front of the hearth. Spike leaned forward and took a deep breath, releasing a stream of flames as he exhaled. The log in the fireplace ignited, and Spike, satisfied, took a sit in the love seat, grabbing a random novel he found on the coffee table.
It was a memoir of a retired Wonderbolt, embellishing her time as a member of the esteemed flight corp. It was a rather silly read, something he had borrowed from the library on a whim a week ago. If the author was to be believed, the Wonderbolts were less than a group of highly regarded flying professionals and more similar to a up and coming rock band, filled with endless parties, drinks, and sexual escapades. The chapters covered events in no apparent chronological order, bouncing between years and dates without warning, and was heavy with unwanted political commentary. It was the kind of book Twilight Sparkle wouldn't mind excluding from her own library. Still, Spike had to admit the smut was rather well written, and the suggestion of corruption within the organization's higher-ups lend an unexpected but intriguing sense of mystery.
Spike lost his place when he heard the knock at the door. He leapt to his feet and carefully circumvented the slumbering tortoise as he made his way back to the kitchen. With two quick puffs, he lit the candles, then dimmed the lights. Spike checked the time by what little light remained. Seven thirty, the clock read.
There was another knock. Rainbow was growing impatient. Spike clapped his claws and rubbed them together. Making sure the spikes on his head were straight, Spike walked swiftly to the front door, took a steadying breath, and opened the door.
A purple alicorn stood before him, her wings folded to her side. The horn spiraling from her forehead was glowing brightly as she magically carried a bottle.
"You don't look too pleased to see me," Princess Twilight Sparkle said. "I'm not interrupting anything, am I?"
Spike took a second to recover, and his smile returned just as brightly. "No, of course not," he assured, stepping to the side. "Come on inside."
"I heard you were looking for cider. You're lucky I managed to save one," the princess told the dragon as she enter the house. She placed the bottle into Spike's arms and looked toward the candle-lit kitchen. "You sure I'm not interrupting anything?"
"I actually haven't started," Spike explained. "Can't have a dinner for two without two, can I?"
"Well, you definitely could eat enough for two," Twilight teased, giggling. "So Rainbow's coming home soon?"
Spike lead the princess to the living room. Tank stuck his head out of his shell to blink at Twilight before going back to sleep. "Tonight, actually. She should be here any minute."
"Then I'll make this quick," Twilight said, settling into the love seat. Spike joined her. "I've got some, well, news."
"Good news or bad news?"
"You decide. We've finally approved enough rainclouds necessary to rejuvenate Saddle Arabia's drought inflicted farmlands."
"Sounds like good news so far,"
"Yeah, I'm just glad all the paper work's over," Twilight groaned. "But I'm getting off topic. The Sultan wants to hold a big celebration for Equestria for all our assistance and would like Rainbow Dash to kick things off with--"
"With a Sonic Rainbow, of course." Spike sighed. "When?"
"The opening ceremony starts next week."
"Next week?" Spike almost yelled. "She just completed a month long tour with the Wonderbolts. She'll be exhausted. Do you really think she'll have recovered enough by then to perform something like that? Can't you find some other pony do it? There are thousands of pegasi out there. You can fly too, can't you?"
"I'm pretty positive stunt flying is still beyond my capabilities," Twilight retorted coolly. "And the Sultan specifically asked for a Sonic Rainboom. There's more to this than just doing a few loops in the air and calling it a day. He sees it as a symbol of hope, the rain after a long drought, bringing life back to the land and the entire nation."
"Well..." Spike struggled for another argument. His grip on the bottle tightened as he conceded. "How long's the celebration?" he asked, the previous exhaustion returning to his features.
"One month."
"One month!" Spike all but exploded.
"I told you, it's a big celebration. And the Sultan has invited Rainbow Dash to lodge at his palace the entire time. Do you know how exciting that is? No other foreigner's ever received that privilege, not even Princess Celestia, though that might just because the previous sultans were--"
Twilight jumped at the sound of shattering glass. Spike unclenched his fist and let the sweet cider run down his fingers and glass shards drop to the floor. "One month," he said lowly, his features twisted in a scowl. "An entire month, again."
"Spike," Twilight ventured carefully, clearing away the broken glass with her magic. Her gently touch shook the dragon out of his anger induced stupor.
"S-sorry," he apologized. "It's just...I was hoping we'd finally have some time together."
"You knew she'd be busy with her career."
"Yeah, but if it's not something for the Wonderbolts, it's this kind of thing, or Equestria's in grave danger, and you guys need to save the world," the dragon grumbled. He gave Twilight a sad look, his eyes wide and pleading. "Is there any way I can go with her too?"
"I'm sorry Spike, but you know Saddle Arabia has some awful history with dragons, and they don't seem to eager to start forgetting."
"Is this really necessary? Does she have to take this gig?"
"Well, theoretically, no," Twilight admitted. "It's up to her to make the final decision but knowing Rainbow--"
"There's no way she'll refuse," Spike finished, folding his arms together.
"Which is why I'm telling you."
Spike's ears perked up. He lifted his head and stared at the alicorn. "What?"
"You're not the only one worried about Rainbow's health, you know. I hate to say it, but as amazing as she is, Rainbow Dash's still just a pony, and if she isn't careful, she'll end up burning herself out. Maybe this time, maybe not, who can say? Spike, I'm leaving you a choice," Twilight said quietly. "We both know there's no way Rainbow'll say no to this, but..." Twilight grimaced. "I suppose what she doesn't know won't hurt her."
"What do you mean?"
"You're the only one here who knows this information. Whether you decide to tell Rainbow or not is up to you."
"Are you suggesting I should lie to her?"
"I'm not telling you anything," Twilight said. "I'm just giving you a choice. Rainbow'll hate the both of us for this, but a break might be good for her. I just wish we didn't have to force one on her like this. Heh, did you think the day would come when Rainbow worked harder than Applejack?"
"There's a lot of stuff I never could have predicted back then." Spike frowned. "Do you remember what I said I wanted to grow up to be when I was a kid?"
"I remember. You wanted to be a knight, a protector, a hero of justice like in your comic books. I still have a few pictures of you wearing a blanket like a cape."
Spike sighed. "Yeah. Promise me you won't mess with any more time spells, okay? Past Spike would be devastated if he ever saw this future."
"Well, Past Spike could be a bit of an immature brat sometimes, couldn't he?" Twilight extended her wing over the dragon's shoulders and pulled him into an embrace. "Listen, your old position's still open. I still haven't found a suitable replacement, and I doubt I ever will. I could always use a number one assistant, and you're welcome to it."
Spike leaned his head against his old guardian's. "Thanks Twilight, I really appreciate it, but someone's gotta keep this house from falling apart. It won't be Rainbow, that's for sure."
"Heh, I suppose not," Twilight chuckled. "Well, just remember, if you need somepony to talk to, my doors are always open."
"Even without booking an appointment?"
"For you, even without an appointment."
The two held each other for a moment longer, then separated. "I'll let you get back to your dinner," Twilight said, pushing herself off the sofa. "Tell Rainbow I said hello."
"You sure you don't want me to walk you home?" Spike asked as he led the princess back to the entrance of his home.
"I'm pretty sure I can take care of myself," Twilight replied with a laugh. "It's still pretty early, I'll find my way back just fine. Besides, we wouldn't want Rainbow to return to an empty home, would we?"
With one last smile, the princess waved and took off into the air. Spike watched Twilight soar into the cool evening sky until she had disappeared.
*
The candles had melted away, leaving behind little more than a small puddle of wax. The casserole, the pie, and even the salad went untouched. The bottle of fermented grape juice had been emptied. Spike sat on one side of the kitchen table, holding a wine stained glass. He stared at the unoccupied seat in front of him. The only sounds were the annoying plinks made by the drippy faucet, the clicking taps his claws made as he drummed them on the table, and the ticking of the clock as the hours wasted away like the dying candles.
The flickering flames went out as Spike sighed and got to his feet. He carried the dishes away and stored them in the refrigerator. The bottle he disposed in a little blue bin. He left silverware, glasses, tablecloth, and candle remains on the table. He'd clean them up in the morning. Tonight, he was too tired, too drained for anymore chores. He was done for the day.
His tail and feet dragged heavily along the floor behind him. Every other breath was a yawn. As if in a trance, Spike past through the kitchen, through the entire house until he stopped right in front of the staircase. Upstairs was the master bedroom. His bedroom. Their bedroom. Spike must have been more tired than he wanted to admit; the dragon could have sworn he could hear the bed they shared call out, beckoning him to another night next to an empty space.
He turned and went into the living room instead, collapsing into the plush sofa. The fire had long burned out, leaving only cold ashes in the fireplace. Spike shivered, doubling over to curl into a ball.
A large framed picture on the table caught his attention. In it sat, stood, and crouched a dozen pegasi in a line. Each one wore a bright blue and yellow jump suit, the perfect attire for flying in. A mare with a wild rainbow mane sat in the center, her foreleg wrapped around another Wonderbolt's shoulders. A male, Spike couldn't help but notice, with powerful gray wings, perfect posture, and his hair brushed back and jagged, as if the stallion had just finished a relay. Everypony had been smiling, but Rainbow's smile was the largest by far.
Spike turned over onto his side and let his eyes slowly close. He didn't stir when the front door creaked open. He didn't move when a figure crept inside. There was no reaction from him when the intruder accidentally knocked something over with her tail as she tried to sneak into the living room.
The pony carefully picked up the framed photo. In it a young dragon in a suit was holding a mare with the most colorful mane imaginable. Her hair was just as messy that day as it always was, despite their efforts. Those powerful blue wings of hers, her pride and joy, flared out as she hovered, unhindered by the beautiful white dress she had been wearing. She still had that dress somewhere in her closet. The smile the mare share with her dragon was larger than any she had worn before and any she had worn since. It was the one she wore now.
Rainbow set the picture back in its original position. She turned to the dragon laying in the love seat, shivering without a blanket.
Slowly, carefully, she crawled over and onto him. The trembling ceased. She lowered her lips to his ears and whispered softly into them.
"Hey honey, I'm home."
A small smile touched the dragon's lips as Rainbow's own gently brushed against them.
"Welcome home."
*