Spike hadn't brought any mares home that night, much to Octavia's relief. Even though she had decided it wasn't her business what he did in his apartment, she still liked to sleep. In fact, the musical duo were still at the bar passed closing time. Pony Joe had left, leaving it up to Spike to lock up when he left. They were sharing a drink, nothing fancy like Pony Joe could mix up, just a bottle of gin.
Spike was getting increasingly drunk and the mare beside him was getting increasingly beautiful, with every glass of the toxin she got prettier and prettier to the point he couldn't take his eyes off her. Octavia was getting uncomfortable under his gazes, though she was indeed getting tipsy, she handled the alcohol far better then the dragon, staying refined with relative ease.
Octavia was forced to help the dragon walk home, given he was, as the younger crowd called it, hammered. Though it was awkward as he was heavier then she imagined, and she was still feeling the effects of her own drink. When they arrived at the apartment, he fumbled with his keys. He was in a sorry state, so sorry that she swiped his keys and unlocked it herself. It took her two seconds where it would have taken him all night.
He murmured a thank you as he held the door for her. She was surprised that, even in his drunken state, he was trying to be polite. She gave a small, tired smile as she went inside. Spike decided, as a coherent thought pierced the alcoholic inflicted brain of his, that smile was reward enough for the deed.
The next morning, he decided, was the worst morning he had in a while. He thought, for a moment, that his head was going to explode. The alarm on his end table wasn't helping, and he could barely keep himself from smashing it once and for all. He knew that if he did that a new one would just take it's place, and he'd need to pay for it's replacement, so he just fumbled around for the off button, as usual.
He rose from the bed and, as per usual morning ritual, he staggered into the kitchen to find Octavia, for once, not making coffee. She was in front of his stove, and he heard the sizzle of something being burnt.
Octavia was never a good cook, on the contrary, she could rarely make anything without burning it. She recalled one attempt at making cereal that went horribly wrong. The eggs in the pan weren't turning out much better.
“Never seen the sun look so flat.” She was jolted from her thoughts by the dragon, who was now beside her. Damn, he was quiet when he wanted to be. “Here, let me.” While Octavia was no cook of any sort, Spike had won awards for his dishes back when he still entered those contests. Octavia allowed him to take over, shuffling out of his way as he started to cook.
It wasn't long before the eggs were done, and besides the one she cooked they were perfect. Spike slid the burnt egg onto a plate, and the perfectly cooked egg onto another. As Octavia prepared to take the burnt egg, she was cut off by a scaly arm. Spike smiled down at her weakly, his head still pounding.
“What kind of dragon would I be if I let a pretty mare go without?” Spike asked, taking the plate of burnt eggs. What Octavia didn't realize was how stressed he was about today. It was the first of the month, rent was due, and the land-lord would want those bits tout suite. He tossed the eggs into his maw, besides the fact he liked it a little burnt anyway, it was okay. He decided, she wasn't the worst cook he'd ever seen.
Octavia ate her eggs slowly and with dignity that didn't befit the company she was keeping. It was as though she were still in Canterlot, eating at a fancy restaurant. Spike shook his head at the sight. He had no time to worry about Octavia, even though it was his day off he had a few things he needed to do. Top of that list was visit his sister, but he couldn't take Octavia with him on that trip.
“I have to go out soon.” Spike broke the silence, causing Octavia to look at him out of the corner of her eye. “You gonna be alright by yourself?” He asked, causing Octavia to turn to him, her raised eyebrow and small frown begged to ask why he thought she wouldn't be. Spike simply shook his head at this. “Forget I asked, then.”
He was gone not five minutes later, leaving the apartment to be engulfed by a silence that wasn't usually there, that silence that was genuinely comfortable. The mare wouldn't have much to do, but at least she'd be at peace. She picked up the newspaper and began to read.
Spike lit a cigarette as he left the building, it was his last one. The restorative traits the eggs had over his hangover were already easing his headache. He took a drag from the tobacco stick and let his lungs fill with the smoke. He knew it was a bad habit, and that it was just one more thing he needed to buy, but it helped his nerves and he thought he could quit anytime he wanted.
He wandered down the road, offering a small wave to everypony he knew, which was almost all of them, and made his way to the town market, he'd need to buy another pack of cigarettes. He spotted the Apples' stall, and behind it was Applejack, selling her famous apples. Spike thought, it wouldn't hurt to say hello to somepony he hadn't seen in a while.
Applejack was an orange mare, a bit ironic considering her name. When she spotted the dragon making his way over to him, she felt a smile grow on her face.
“How ya'll doin', Spike?” She asked, though she didn't approve of his smoking and drinking habits, she knew better then to try and stop him, especially after Twilight had tried. “Lookin' pretty fit, how's the pub treatin' ya?” She was trying to make conversation, Spike smiled at her as he stopped at the stall.
“Same as usual, just making my way. You're lookin' pretty good too, AJ.” He winked at her, earning laugh.
“Same ole flirt, some ponies never change.” It was nice to catch up, so nice in fact that they talked for a good while. By the time Spike realized how long he'd been chatting up his old friend, he was late to meet Twilight. Once he did realize he was off like a bullet, sending hasty apologies over his shoulder to his old friend.
Spike ran, cursing all the way, he dropped his cigarette and never bought another pack, so he'd be out of nicotine for a while. He was thankful that Ponyville wasn't that large of a town, as he reached the library in record time. In fact, he almost ran into the door.
He knocked, though it was only to be polite. He knew he was welcome here, no matter what and even had a spare key to the library. The nob jiggled a bit, a sign that it was being unlocked, before the door swung open and he was face to face with a very tired looking Twilight Sparkle. She must have been up late studying again.
“Huh? Whozzat?” She questioned, trying to focus her uncooperative eyes. Finally, she accomplished just that, and she saw the beaming dragon before her. She felt energy return to her at just the sight of him. “Oh! Spike, come in!” She moved out of the way and allowed him inside.
The conversation was nearly identical to the one he had with Applejack, only without the accent. They talked about what they've been doing as of late and how things have been. But Spike had another reason for coming. Twilight noticed something was wrong when he started fiddling with his claws, trying to work up the courage to ask the question he so dearly needed to ask.
“Spike,” She started, her voice shattered what little bravery he had mustered up. “Are you okay?” She asked, though that wasn't exactly what she was asking. “You know I want to help, but you need to tell me what's wrong.”
“I don't have enough bits to pay the rent.” He blurted it out without a single trace of tact. Twilight face-hoofed, she should have known it was that. Spike had done this before, came up short on his rent, and he turned to the only pony he knew would help.
“Again? Spike, you can't keep doing this. I know you like to play the piano, but if your job can't support you then you need to find one that will.” She berated, her voice firm. Though it didn't stop her from getting her bag and pulling out some bits.
Spike didn't listen to a word she said, he doubted he could get another job if he tried.