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// Chapter 13: Drift 
// Story: Necessary Love 
// by Zurock 
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A swoop and a poof.
Every now and again that exact sequence of sounds was heard coming down from above.  The banking swoosh of a pegasus moving into position, followed by the floating pause of their legs winding up, and then the marshmallow poof of a snowcloud bursting with one solid buck.  Keeping the pier skies clear was slow and almost lazy work but the several dozen pegasi stayed on their watchful task diligently, flying on patrol while intercepting any stray clouds which occasionally drifted into the wrong airspace.
It was the most fascinating thing to watch while waiting to board the boat, or so James certainly felt.  Cruise liners large and small he had seen a few times before in his life, docks and wharfs were familiar to him also, but a weather patrol on duty?  That was still relatively new and interesting.  It was also a particularly ludicrous and baffling sight on this occasion, at least when it wasn't so outright amusing.
He needed only look out at Baltimare behind him to see the city engulfed in its winter season.  Slush-covered streets ran between sizable buildings who themselves were encrusted with snow and ice in layers, from above came a merry snowfall of tufty snowflakes which dreamily drifted down and sweetly kissed the ground, and everypony who walked by curb or on path had their heat packed close in some form of winter wear.  The city wore its season like a white and gray overcoat.
And that made the summer heat which surrounded the man the most dissonant feeling to have ever struck him.  The oppressive warmth squeezed bubbles of sweat out of his forehead, the cooling sea breeze which ambled its way over the pier carried the most refreshing morning sensation with it, and his clothes had that spacious feeling of thankfully hanging so loose that there wasn't any risk of them clinging to his sticky body.  The section of the docks which he stood upon bloomed with summer; melting in a season so impossibly opposed to the city's, like the tranquil eye of a hurricane.
So, swoop and poof.
A portion of Baltimare's port, at least a dozen piers, was owned by some unholy conglomerate of travel agencies, cruise corporations, island embassies, and tourism boards.  Separate from the city's team of weather pegasi they had hired their own team of ponies to manage the weather over their docks.  The group of well-paid fliers made their living maintaining a glorious, eternal summer over that tiny section of the waterfront, day-in and day-out; driving away unwanted clouds to keep back any undesired snow or rain, constantly shipping in wind from warmer places, and doing their utmost to allow the most powerful rays of the sun free reign.  It was all part of the business, done as a customer courtesy; something to get the money-flush tourists in the vacationing mood just before they began their journeys.
Swoop and poof.
The more the man watched, the more it tickled him.  The contrast!  The frozen city so close to the summer docks that he could pitch a snowball to it, or perhaps catch one which some mischievous city foal might try to throw through the threshold.  The rivalry!  It seemed like the pegasi maintaining the winter over Baltimare itself would sometimes intentionally let a cloud drift out of their zone, just to see if their better-paid counterparts were still paying attention.  The ordinariness!  Not one pony from the vast crowds gathered on each pier seemed to think anything unusual of the situation; no, they had all come prepared for their wintertime summer vacations in their straw hats, sunglasses, aloha shirts, and sunscreen-slathered noses (when they wore clothes at all.)
It was perhaps what the Equator would have been like on a very, very, very, very tiny Earth.
Swoop.  Poof.
James, Twilight, and their six other friends had arrived in Baltimare the prior night.  What could have been an awkward train ride to the city had turned out to have passed fairly quickly in polite silence since the car had been filled to a healthy capacity with other travelers who had the same destination, either as a waypoint or a final stop.  Arriving in the dim of evening they had wasted no time beating a fast canter to their hotel for a single night stay; their rest beds before a short cruise to the island resort.  It had all been part of a simple travel schedule.
Except nothing about the hotel had been simple at all, save for perhaps being, "Simply awesome!" as Rainbow Dash had put it.  From the grandest architecture of the massive lobby to the tiniest embellishments on their rooms' toilets, they had marveled at the luxury accommodations their eventual island hosts had paid for: countless stories high, like a goliath of glass lights rising out of the street; a palace of a lobby with golden colored fountains casually strewn about and hanging gardens streaming down every surface; an army of bellhops who had been impeccably trained and had even refused tips (later discovered to have been because the island hosts had generously prepaid for any such service;) and so much more.  
The instant that the front desk staff had been shown the group's passes they had whisked them all up to one of the highest floors and shown them their suites.  Eight suites, specifically.  Eight individual suites, each one absolutely drowned with the trappings of royalty!  Enormous beds with half a dozen cushiony pillows each, dazzling drapes which framed gorgeous wall-window views of the city's winter night, magically self-tending hearths whose full warmth was more comforting than being wrapped in the shaggiest blankets, bathrooms with more elegant fixtures than most two story houses!  For all those who had once been guests at Canterlot Castle, an ocean of modesty would have been required to declare that the home of Princess Celestia was equal or superior to the hotel.  Already, even before having seen their destination island; even before having met their hosts; the group of friends had already come to believe in the promise of a perfect vacation.
And so they had slept a restful night as queens and kings, had been woken up for a catered breakfast buffet, and then had been escorted to a fleet of taxis which had taken them to where they were now: at the summer docks, mingled with a crowd of fellow travelers on one of the piers, and waiting to board a cruise ship which had a smaller stature compared to some of the other harbored boats.
The man had to admit: despite everything, already he felt great.  That short stay at the most lavish hotel he had ever seen certainly had felt like the opening salvo of an amazing summer vacation.  Summer!  Even that magical reversal of seasons had some buoying effect upon him, like a step out of time into some exotic fantasy, ancient and incredible.  It probably helped that the fantasy was true in some way; this was pony magic.
For once it was like the tomorrows ahead, usually unspoken of, swelled with so much miraculous possibility.  For once the today and yesterdays didn't seem so important.  He actually wanted to see what waited ahead.
And better than that, he really felt some inner sense of leaving behind his troubles so as to seek solace and rest.  The week between Twilight's announcement of the trip and their recent departure hadn't been his most enjoyable.  Sure, the bulk of the days had run as they usually did, the prime difference having been that his friends had been wound tight with anticipation for what lay ahead.  Otherwise, only two deviations of note had occurred; one unexpected and one sour.
When he had gone to Sugarcube Corner for his day of assisting Pinkie Pie, he had encountered only a mildly dismayed Mrs. Cake.  The baker pony had regretfully informed him that Pinkie Pie had suddenly dashed off in the early morning, claiming she had lots of parties elsewhere to prepare.  The motherly mare had then offered him the option of hanging around the shop to see if the pink pony might return at some point, but he had declined politely.  If that crazy pony had wanted to skip a day with him then who was he to have disagreed?
And throughout the whole week, before that day and after, he hadn't seen hoof or tail of the unpredictable pony...  Only at their Baltimare bound departure had he at last seen her again, and she had appeared no more or less than her usual self to his eyes.  Consequently, he had made no approach to ask her about the missed day.
Actually... losing a Pinkie Pie day had been something of a relief.  He hadn't felt any regrets about how that had turned out.
The responsibility which had truly ensnared his most troublesome worries had been his obligation to Twilight: his negotiated promise to ask Rarity for summer clothes.  His disagreement with that course of action could not have been stronger but, since he had swore to his good friend that he would do so, what choice had there been but to follow through?  Working up the nerve to simply ask the dressmaker had been the worst part of it since there hadn't been time to pace himself; the trip had loomed over them like the threatening rise of a dark moon dragging a starless night behind it.
The pressure had come on all the more intensely because James had sought not to have left the generous pony with so little time that she would have felt rushed.  He had approached her early in the week about possible summer clothes; barely more than a day after he had conceded to Twilight's demand.  He had forged ahead with meeting the dressmaker at her boutique and, choking on miserable humility, had made the most minimalist request for summer attire that he could have.
Just the act of asking her had been torture.  Those few hours of bracing himself mentally hadn't been enough to have left him feeling prepared for his duty.  In his mind he had again been abusing her giving nature in order to solve what had been decidedly one of his own minor problems.
But of course the dressmaker had taken up the cause without hesitation, without disdain, or even without disruptive pride.  "Oh, heavens!" she had cried when he had at last put the matter before her, "I should have realized!"  There was secret hurt in hearing her express such simple guilt.  SHE should have realized?  Any attempt to counter her claim had her shushing him with short, insistent speeches on the duties of a lady and a friend.  And then, like always, it hadn't mattered what she had already been doing or what her plans had been.  She had vowed then and there to work tirelessly to solve his stupid clothing dilemma.
At the very least, asking for the clothes truly had been the worst part of the experience; the most profoundly uncomfortable of the bumps in the road.  Things had improved after that.  The wonderful opportunity had come up to give her a little bit of freedom.
Somewhere early on, while assorted bundles of fabrics were still being blindly pulled in whole rolls off the shelves according to some intuitive plan of hers, she had spontaneously asked him, "I know your clothing tastes hew more towards the, ah... austere... but... if it's alright with you... I have a few more... refined... ideas that I think might make a superior outfit.  Perhaps if I could just sketch them for you?"
It had been perhaps the one single, sincere, and worthwhile moment that the unwanted course of action had wrought: when he had been able to answer her without a diluting drop of reserve, "Whatever pleases you."
Fearful of any limit he could have restrained her with, he had given his fullest agreement to absolutely everything she had put before him, whether it had been the most critical piece of the master plan or the most errant thought of a wild brainstorm.  She must have had her suspicions about how strangely accommodating he had been; how he had seemed to have no thought, desire, or design for what were to have been his own clothes.  But she had never said anything.  Maybe she had merely guessed how reluctant he had been to have asked the favor of her, and she had readily accepted his pliable behavior as his apology?
In any case it had been a relief to see what fun she had gained from the project.  From drawing, to shearing, to sewing; through it all she had been served a creative buffet, and she had indulged herself in every sweet taste the process had to offer.  She had finished well before the trip deadline, and the greater freedom she had been given had meant that the end product she had produced was different in more substantial ways compared to the previous two designs.
Standing on the pier, busy as it was with the crowd of ponies caught up in their own pre-vacation preoccupations, James self-consciously looked down at what he had worn for the first time today (barring having had tried it on once initially, for Rarity's pleasure.)
It was a piece whose motif didn't reflect a royal class in the modest ways that the other outfits had.  There was no double-breasted torso like a soldier's uniform; no, his chest was barely touched by the new top.  The shirt portion loosely hung off his shoulders by two stringy straps, the shirt itself floating around him.  It wasn't a simple sleeveless shirt though, oh no.  It had thin, layered ruffles flowing down it, like the folds of sagging drapes, each row a slightly different shade of soft green, like a watercolor prairie sweeping down him.  The fabric breathed so well that both shining sun and ocean breeze drifted right through it.  The thin straps were perhaps the most embarrassing part.  They tied to the shirt in little knots which steered just a bit too close to resembling bows, and a small diamond-shaped sapphire adorned each one like a glittering lock.
The pants weren't much better.  When they had been initially laid out before him they had almost looked like knee-length shorts, but they certainly didn't wear like that.  They didn't have that rugged strength of form that might be found in such outdoor wear; no, there was a bending, wavy looseness in them that was perhaps more befitting of a flowing skirt.  Though the grip on his waist was snug, the two pantlegs below simply fell freely.  They moved in any direction that the wind told them to go, at least when they weren't seemingly moving in whatever arbitrary ways so pleased them.  The whole thing matched the top in greenness, mostly using one of the darker shades.  At least there wasn't quite the excessive flare which the top had; there were very few folds or seams at all, which probably contributed to its incredibly flexible form.  Mostly there was only some ridges around the waist and the bottoms, and a few more small sapphires could be found highlighting the corner lips of the four pockets.
For footwear Rarity had created something that she had said she hoped would work, "Like a sandal."  There had been a palpable lack of surprise when it had turned out that she had in fact just created sandals: a sole, a thick flap which hugged the instep, and four small threads which ran between the toes.  It had really called into question just what a 'sandal' was for an ungulate creature like a pony but he had neglected to ask for further details.  And again, the items were green with sapphires; in this case a single gem on each sandal, sitting centered on the flaps over his feet.
There wasn't any doubt in his mind that the clothes were summer wear.  They would keep him comfortable in the most brutal of estival weather.  Comfortable physically, anyway.  Comfort when under the eyes of others would be impossible for him.  Just beneath the surface of the man was an honest shame.  It was as if he had been caught wearing something similar to what the girls in high school used to wear on the fading days of the school year; sandals to go with a weird camisole-like top and some kind of teen-trendy shorts below.  If he had ever found one of his old guy friends in something like this he knew he would have unleashed teasing of an unending and merciless variety.
But no matter what cluttered pile of disorganized regrets he had about his new outfit, he allowed not a speck of them to show.  They all were swept under the rug.  What these clothes meant as a gift from Rarity was too important.  Now the unicorn would have no reason to be concerned about him and she could enjoy her vacation to the fullest.  He would have to endure the embarrassment in silence.
Not that any of the ponies about him, whether friend or merely fellow traveler, seemed to notice or care what he looked like.  They were all abuzz with excitement for their own impending vacations, invested far too deeply to be concerned with the oddly dressed non-pony.  Maybe... maybe the troubles raking at him WERE all in his mind.
He still wanted to stay fixed on what could become of this magical vacation that had managed to so far get him excited.  Wearing a reminder of what he was trying to stay away from wasn't helping.
Somewhere down the docks from him one of the larger cruise ships let loose with an impressively bold foghorn.  The deep sound crashed over each pier like a massive, rumbling wave.  A united group of celebratory voices cheered with it; the two sounds together heralding the start of some other ponies' grand adventure.  Nearly everypony's head turned with friendly envy, for they saw that all of the ponies on the nosiest pier were marching forward and boarding the ready ship which had given the booming welcome.  Primed energy pumped into all the crowds that had yet to board their own ships; hopefully their boat would be the next to call!
But the man didn't move his eyes to inspect the luckier travelers.  Instead he gazed through the busy commotion of his own pier, looking at the talented tailor friend whom he was so indebted to.  Not far in front of him, past a nervous Fluttershy buffering a bickering Applejack and Rainbow Dash, was Rarity.  Wrapped tight over her mane was a violet headscarf, there to protect her precious hair from the salty sea air, and the tails of the headscarf's tied knot jutted out from under her chin.  A pair of sunglasses she wore too, their thin silver rims gripping the wide, dark lenses which shielded her eyes as if the sun was the flaring flashbulb of some paparazzo.
"Ugh," she moaned as she fanned some of the heat off of her face, "I didn't realize we'd be standing here this long.  This sun is positively unbearable."  Then, with command, "Spike!  Parasol!"
An oversized pile of luggage, all of the bags nearly bursting at the zippers, laid at her side.  They were five or six bags at least; it was hard to tell exactly because of how misshapenly stuffed they were, the disorder of how they were clumped together, and the fact that they were all coated in a matching design depicting many gemstones.
At the sound of her order they together rumbled and picked up.  Just barely poking out from underneath one could see the swaying tail and unsteady feet of a purple dragon.
"Right away, Rarity," Spike said, his response displaying a willing spirit but a strength under heavy load.
Back and forth the unbalanced luggage wobbled as a claw came up and felt around the messy jumble.  Each further reach; each greater grasp which went deeper into the pile; only threw off his already precarious balance more and more.  Soon the innocent ponies near the evershifting deathtrap began to watch with leery eyes at what could possibly be their own unfortunate pre-vacation doom if a collapse were to happen.
When the tips of his trembling claw disappeared into the darkest crevice of the baggage jungle, licking at what he desired to grab, his heels at last slid past the point of no return.  There was a ruffled creaking sound as the tower of travel bag terror started to teeter backwards.  Anypony who happened to be watching flinched in anticipation of the oncoming crash.
Which never came.  Just as everything started to topple over they instead merely fell into the waiting arms and chest of James.  Spike twisted his neck to look at what had halted the disaster.
Carefully securing the caught pile, the man told the dragon cordially, "Don't worry.  I got the bags.  Get the lady her parasol."
"Hey, thanks!"  Slipping out from under his previous burden, Spike easily reached into the center of the luggage and withdrew a long-handled, frilly-edged, bulbous, and ridiculously sumptuous violet parasol.  He wielded it like it was his born mission, whipping it open and naturally standing in the perfect spot to block the maximum amount of sunshine from reaching the mare he adored.
"Thank you, Spike," Rarity inattentively commended him.
Then, effortlessly and without an acknowledging word for what had just nearly happened, her own magic reached into the luggage pile.  From the unknowable depths of her travel supplies she drew out a compact.  Popping it open in front of her face, she jerked herself about in order to search for any possible damage to her precious appearance.
"It would be absolutely ruinous to my complexion if I got even the slightest amount of color before I had the chance to tan proper," she said, still paying no attention to anypony but herself.  "Don't you think?"
"Of course, Rarity," the infatuated dragon replied automatically.
A few paces away, the man finished setting down the mountain of luggage.  From behind the still churning veil of his partially sidetracked thoughts he almost inaudibly mumbled in memory, "Whatever pleases you..."
Elsewhere in the crowd, Twilight was not nearly in the same ready shape for the trip as some of her friends were.  True, her general excitement for what lay ahead could not be denied, and anytime she had met with one of her friends in the past week they had all been eagerly talking non-stop about their island getaway.  But the threats to friendship which were posed by all of the tiny fault lines the unicorn had recently uncovered had only grown and grown in her mind.
And it wasn't as if a few differences between friends was an absolutely horrendous, unimaginable, world-shattering thing; such disagreements or troubles happen from time to time between ponies who are even the best of friends.  Such imperfections in a friendship were normal.  With time, care, attention, respect, and effort, friends can work together to sorts those things out.  The awful difficulty here, the sinister and seditious problem that was batting away at her worries, was that nopony seemed willing to take the first step and speak up about their dividing issues with the friend who was bothering them!
Twilight would have never noticed the rocky ground that Applejack and Rainbow Dash stood on if the farm pony hadn't mentioned it herself.  Several times since it had first come up the unicorn had made sure to keenly observe how the two interacted, and there had been no doubt about it: Rainbow Dash's competitive edge had been coming out more frequently than ever and, as Applejack was the pegasus's rival of choice, she had been bearing the brunt of it.  The wear and tear was frighteningly visible on the farm pony's patience.
Less troubling was James' one-sided conflict with Rarity.  Thankfully the man had gone and asked for summer clothes; hopefully that took some pressure off of the problem.  Maybe it would allow the vacation to provide them with the serene lull they needed to resolve everything.
Twilight also made a special note to herself: the man had honored his promise even when it had been personally difficult for him to have done so.  In other words, she should never forget that he was a goodhearted and trustworthy individual at his core, and he meant well.  There were just some things, particularly with regards to himself, that he took so seriously.  Maybe in some circumstances it might have given him a certain useful strength of character but here she really felt like it was holding him back.  Any pain in his friendship with Rarity was only on his side.  HE had declared himself a risky and inadequate friend for the dressmaker, but there was no way that Rarity saw him like that.
None of that compared to the greatest nightmare building in Twilight's mind: the unsolvable conundrum involving man and pink pony.  In that particularly painful puzzle there was no apparent way forward!  Pinkie Pie would not open up directly to him because of some surprising loss of courage or confidence; odd for so unflappable a pony, but not unthinkable.  James on the other hoof would not open up directly to her because... because... why?  "He's not genuine," Pinkie Pie had lamented.  And really, that's what he himself had admitted, wasn't it?  He "didn't get" Pinkie Pie.
Weeks.  Weeks he had spent in Ponyville, giving time on each of his days to one of the six pony friends.  And in that special and ordinary way which friendship worked its magic, there had been the steady strengthening of fellowship; the cementing of bonds between him and each of them.  Something inside of him, different parts of himself for each different pony he had befriended, had reached out to them all.  A connection to each of the pony friends had been opened by a variety of unique elements that existed within him.
Twilight herself had received some of his deeply personal and unguarded side, as well as his love of grander thoughts on the universe.  With Rainbow Dash the formidably frank side of companionship came out; a brazen friendship, unabashedly carrying each other through fun and games, or scraps and bruises; enjoying the simple act of company through 'chilling,' as it were in the vernacular.  Applejack had his integrity, commitment, and sense of hard, honest work; she was a pony he would never find difficulty speaking to in any circumstances.  Fluttershy drew out his softest compassion and admiration; there was a funny way in which he positively looked up to her, worshiping her strength through adversity.  Even the man's currently troubled friendship with Rarity still intimately involved some of his true inner pony: he was so concerned with treating her generosity correctly.  In a different way from Fluttershy she commanded a great respect in him.  She had his sense of noble fairness, such as how one should treat a giving friend.
But what part of him did Pinkie Pie get?
Nothing?
Was that it?  He had found nothing inside of himself for her?  Had he no genuine pieces of his person to give to the party pony?
Were they just incompatible?
Oy.  What was a third wheel friend to do?  All of those unbalanced friendships involved Twilight's dear friends but none of them involved her personally.  The best outcome was for them to mend the wounds in their friendships themselves.  She could help them along, and as a worried friend she certainly SHOULD help them along, but what if she went too far?  Attempting to solve their issues COMPLETELY for them was folly; a recipe for disaster.  More importantly, some serious involvement of themselves was unequivocally needed or otherwise they wouldn't learn the lessons they required to form better friendships with each other.
Maybe she could talk to Rainbow Dash?  Tell her boisterous friend about how Applejack feels?  No... that would be a move against Applejack's trust.  The farm pony had already honestly promised Twilight that she would speak up for herself if Rainbow Dash's intruding incitements became too much to bear, and she had insisted that she would be fine to endure the situation until the pegasus's competitiveness returned to more normal levels.
Would it be too much to divulge James' feelings to Rarity and ask that she approach him?  Again, a bad course of action; even if that route sounded like a smart solution it didn't feel wise.  Twilight had been honored and humbled by how the man had very frankly shared his feelings on the matter with her; she knew him well enough to appreciate that kind of trust.  It would be wrong to take what he had shared with her and further share it to others without his request or permission.  And he still had intentions to try and lift things to a better place with the dressmaker, even if Twilight disagreed with his planned manner of doing so.
Once more, the real fear took hold regarding the chasm between James and Pinkie Pie.  Both of them the unicorn had already talked to on a deep and personal level, both of them had failed to carry forward in opening up towards each other, and now, without a bridge between them to facilitate some sort heartfelt interaction, both of them seemed miserably content to stay drifting separately.
Could Twilight be that bridge which they needed, at least until they could connect on their own?  How?  Pinkie was the one who always so intuitively knew how to find the friendship inside of others, no matter the hurdles.  But the pink pony hadn't yet succeeded with the man.
Twilight sighed.  Hopefully the peace provided by this lucky vacation would be enough to help Rainbow Dash, Applejack, and Rarity find their own ways to rebalanced friendships.  The purple unicorn needed to fully dedicate herself to the careful lighting of the way for the divided man and pink pony.  With any luck the island trip would assist there, too.
Since her last effort had been speaking to James about the matter, it felt like it was time to try Pinkie Pie again.  A quick visual search, even with all the noise of the colorful crowd, located her pink friend just shy of the gangway which connected the pier and the cruise ship.
Pinkie Pie was nestled amidst the most eager of the clustered travelers; the group who breathlessly held themselves up against the gangway, waiting to board.  Hardly anything had the power to hide the conspicuous pony though.  The overstuffed twin saddlebags she was hauling squirmed and squished with each bounce as she repeatedly leapt in place.  On her back was an extra bag which looked twice as cumbersome as the others, and it barely contained whatever small circus it held within.  That extra haul rattled and roared as it popped off her back at the peak of each jump only to crash onto her again after she landed.  If the rolling noise of her shifting luggage wasn't enough, her screechy voice rose above all others present, weaving a loud and winding speech with her galloping tongue.  She was EXCITED to begin the trip.
Her thirst to board was so unstoppable that it was doubtful that the shippony who guarded the gangway, himself waiting for the signal to allow passage, would have ever been able to hold her back.  If Pinkie Pie decided to rocket up the ramp without warning then he probably would have been turned into quick roadkill.
After taking one large, centering breath, Twilight gently filtered her way through the crowd towards her friend, leveraging a constant stream of courteous requests.  "Excuse me.  Pardon me.  Excuse me, please."  She passed through without a single attention-drawing misstep and eventually came up immediately behind the springy pink pony.
"Pinkie," she hailed her friend, light in tone but not without undisguised concerned.
With perfect ease Pinkie Pie rotated around to face the unicorn, the action not throwing off her repetitive bouncing for even a moment.  "Ahhh!  Hi, smart friend!" she giddily returned in greeting.
Her joy flowed out so freely.  Her eyes stretched wide, her smile went even wider, and she ran countless glances between friend in front and the boat behind.  All the while she invited elatedly, "Look!  Look at this boat, Twilight!  It's such a friendly friend boat, and it's gonna be so full of friends and everything!"
"Pinkie," the undeterred Twilight pressed on, "how do you feel this morning?"
"I'm super great!" the other pony shouted back, beaming.  "I feel like the friendliest friend who ever friended a friend!  This trip is going to be friendtastic!"
"Oh, uh... that's... that's good, Pinkie.  I'm glad you feel so... optimistic."  The unicorn cleared her throat, mostly in an attempt to give herself a small bit of room before continuing.  "So... I'd like to talk to you for a little bit, uh, if I could, about... James."
There was an awkward clop as the pink pony's stationary leap came down on one of her hoofs at a crooked angle.  The bag on her back gave a rowdy, shuffling noise as it moved slightly off center, and she herself nearly spilled over because of the shifting weight.  However, the single misstep was the only hint of trouble.  The correction of her jostled load and the resumption of her incessant bouncing was all but instantaneous.
"Uh-huh," she merely acknowledged, still chipper.
"Right... so...," Twilight sluggishly tried to get herself going, hampered by the subtly disconcerting off-ness of the moment.  "Last time we spoke about this I advised you to talk clearly and directly to James about the, uh... troubles you feel like you're having with him.  And, more recently... he tells me that he approached you about it.  Is that right?"
There was a faint yet thick delay.  "Uh-huh," she duplicated her prior response, merry tone and all.
"Well?  That was your opportunity.  How did it go?" the unsettled unicorn inquired.
This time the pause was intrusive and heavy.  The passing seconds were filled with only the pink pony's unreadable stare and the continued thumps of her jumps.
"Uh-huh," she finally chirped again, clean and clear as her previous replies.
"Pinkie!" Twilight's voice hardened, trying not to let the sour frustration spoil her intentions.
The resistant pink pony pulled again towards some completely different place, "The boat, Twilight!  Look at the friendly boat!"
"Yes, it's a very nice boat!" spat the unicorn harshly, "But forget about it for just a minute, please!"  These irksome oddities of her friend were no incidental side effects of a short attention span.  They were diversions.  She tried to hold the conversation on course with her tone of seriousness, delicately working not to cross the line into outright interrogation.  "James says that when he spoke to you, you didn't mention much of anything to him.  Certainly it sounds like you didn't tell him any of the things that you told me.  Is that true?"
There were more pops and springs from Pinkie Pie as the pony continued moving like a piston.  But, when she finally did answer, the change in her sound was so imperceptibly tiny as to be deafeningly enormous.  She gave an invisibly hollow, "Uh-huh..."
"Why, Pinkie?" Twilight wheezed out in vexation.  The forlorn shake she gave her head dusted her mane sadly across the side of her neck.  "It's not like he's... like he's... necessarily trying to... trying to hurt y-"  Okay, sentence aborted; what an ugly set of words she had chosen.  That was going to have framed everything in a horrendously poor fashion.
She restarted, "He doesn't... understand... what it is that's bothering you."  That sounded better, or at least more polite.  In counsel she graciously offered, "You can't hold back like that.  You need to speak with him honestly."
Stretching open her broad smile the pink pony only giggled, "Hehe, silly Twilight!  Honesty is for friends!"
"Wha-?" the unicorn took a swift, stunned step back at the startling statement.  "No, Pinkie!" she laid heavy her disagreement, protesting sternly, "Even ponies who aren't friends should still be honest with each other!"
Pinkie Pie landed suddenly, devoid of mirth.  This time the spring didn't wind up for another go.  The energy fled her as she straighted her tired legs, like air escaping from a deflating balloon.  There were no more laughing sparkles in her washed out, blue eyes, and she took on no disguise or distraction when she said, stony and straight, "See?  Even you think he's not my friend."
Though Twilight's mouth fell open, there was no gasp.  The last of the lingering air that hadn't idly drifted out of her gaping jaws managed to eek out in spurts, "I-!  I-!  I didn't-!  That's not-!"
Anything she could have spoken would have been cut off anyway, for at that exact moment the blare of their boat's foghorn bellowed over every noise on the docks, blasting from pier to pier.  The language of the deep roar was understood by all: boarding time!
The pink pony began pounding the dock below her hooves once more, as if nothing had ever happened.  Her shriek was like a callback to the foghorn, only shrill and sharp, "AHHHHHHHHHHH!  ALL ABOARD THE FRIENDSHIP PARTY!"
The poor shippony at the base of the gangway and the unlucky few vacationing ponies who stood in her way barely knew what hit them when the pink cannonball tore her way past them.





The boat that had been chosen for them hadn't been the largest of the cruise liners present at the Baltimare docks.  Some of those boats had been titanic, seaworthy palaces with stories upon stories upon stories of rooms above deck; massive leviathans with more streaming banners than an Equestria Games parade.  But those other ships had been floating luxury hotels meant to get out to sea so that their guests could merely bob atop the water like royalty for a week or two before coming back.
The Seabiscuit had a different purpose.  Its route was far wider.  Sailing to the ports of numerous islands, it made short stops at each so that its passengers might have a small taste of the extensive buffet that was the Carriaggean.  The larger ships were tours of the sea but this smaller one was a tour of island culture.
And additionally the ship sometimes bore passengers who weren't really part of the whole tour at all.  Now and again it handled passengers who were to be left at a chosen port entirely, if that was their paradise destination.
Not that having a different purpose and being smaller than its monstrously huge cousins kept The Seabiscuit from being a beast of a vessel in its own right.  It supported at most probably a good one thousand passengers, and the voyage it sailed on now had the boat near capacity.
After the welcoming foghorn had sounded, a hearty chunk of time had been needed to facilitate the boarding of the eager and crushing crowd, and happy chaos had reigned the whole way.  The professional patience of the ship's crew had held strong throughout the ordeal, guiding giddy tourists to their cozy cabins for as long as it took.
Among the tiniest cabins that had been given away were the ones for Twilight and her friends.  They hadn't groused about how poorly their accommodations compared to their hotel stay though; after all, their final port would be reached before the first sunset.
But Twilight had hardly even caught sight of any of her companions during all the frenetic confusion; their group had been broken apart in the scramble to board.  By the time the unicorn had safely deposited her saddlebags and had returned to ship's deck, the foghorn had already screamed its farewell call to Baltimare and the muscly engines had kicked to life.  That was how she found herself on deck amidst the cheering crowd of passengers as the still-snowy city began to shrink away.
Deciding to take a few moments for herself, if only to restore her own equilibrium after all of the anarchy that boarding had entailed, Twilight hooked her forelegs over the starboard railing and looked out at the rolling waters.  The warm wind breezed by her, a summer air which constantly flowed along the sea lane due to the diligent work of the weather crew.  It was refreshing to feel the wind massaging her face and coursing through her mane; to faintly taste the subtleties of salt that it carried into her mouth, and the distinctly renewing smell it brought to her nose; to feel the living mist splash about in her lungs.
Mmm...  That was better.  But still... with friendship work waiting to be done, this had yet to feel like a true vacation.
Stepping back from the edge, she began to trot down the busy deck of the ship.  Her eyes jumped upon every single one of the many ponies she passed, seeking signs of one particular individual.  Where there wasn't any hint of pink she moved on swiftly.  And when there was a matching mane, coat, or tail she only had to blink once before she could find some other incongruity which told her 'no' and that she should move on.
Quite fortunately it was only a few minutes before she spotted the unmistakable candy curls of her friend-in-need, and verified the pony's identity with a quick cutie mark check.  Pinkie Pie, also already finished with storing her hefty saddlebags, was simply standing about on the deck, grinning while she scanned the vast crowd of unfamiliar ponies who were lounging, chatting, loitering, gazing out at sea, taking the first of their vacation photos, or doing any of a thousand different things to have a relaxing, good time.
More than a little distraught with how their earlier conversation had ended, Twilight dashed up to her friend's side and lowered her head, humbly apologizing, "Hey Pinkie.  Listen, I'm really sorry about before."
"Hehehe, everything's great, Twilight!" the pink pony half-attentively replied.  She stood like a perched bird jerking her head about while she took in the countless ponies before her.  There was something about the way she appeared though; some veil masked over her face.
She suddenly turned towards the unicorn, her mysterious eyes nearly bulging out of her head, and she swept an open hoof out at the crowd while saying, "Look!  LOOOOK!  Look at all the FRRIIIEEENNNDDS!"
"I, uh... I certainly don't want to dampen your enthusiasm for mingling, or meeting new ponies, Pinkie," Twilight laughed nervously.  But quickly she felt the full weight of friendship sink into her; now was not the time for shaky confidence.  She picked herself up, breathed, and asserted compassionately, "But... I know that somewhere inside you're really worried about this whole thing with James.  Shouldn't we really try and take care of that first?"  In a soft voice which emitted such unashamed hope she earnestly invited her ailing friend, "Come on, let's go find him and talk to him together.  I promise to be with you the whole time and to help you speak with him.  It'll be okay.  We can figure this all out."
Pink forelegs snared Twilight's neck, wrapping themselves about the surprised unicorn.  Dragging herself up against Twilight, Pinkie Pie delivered a bone-breaking hug.  Cheek to cheek with each other, she declared brightly, "Awww!  You're such a friend, Twilight!"
What a relief!  Progress at last!  A calm smile came over the unicorn.  Carefully, courteously, and most especially gently, she wedged a hoof between herself and her friend so that they might separate enough to depart together.
"But who has time for THAT?" the pink pony unexpectedly snickered.
She let go of her startled friend, practically throwing herself off.  Twilight was left stranded, completely in shock.
In an instant, something intangible changed about Pinkie Pie.  Her behaviors still had all of her trademarks; all the pep and zing and noise still behind them.  But the strength within them had changed.  Something restless and frail was inside.
Her head tilted up, she redirected a hoof into herself, and she announced through bubbling chuckles, "This friendly pony certainly doesn't!  Not when there's so many unfriended friends about!"  She turned around and reared back enough to spit into both of her forehoofs before she rubbed them together vigorously.  "Time for a friend to get to work!"
Before Twilight could raise even the slightest peep of an objection, the pink pony morphed into a pink blur and took off.  She zipped over to a nearby group of ponies; a small family of four.  The mother sat back against the ship's railing, legs around her lovable filly and colt, and they all flashed the grandest smiles together as the father stood a few paces away while fiddling with a camera.
The attack came like pink lightning out of the blue.
"Hi, I'm Pinkie Pie!  I'll take your picture!" the overly zealous pony shouted.  Her whirlwind sucked up the stallion, his camera shot free of his hooves and flipped up into the air, and she threw him into his wife and foals.  Catching the camera herself, the pink pony hardly even aimed the crooked lens at them before pounding away on the device.  The shutter whirred so rapidly that its gagging mechanisms could be heard begging for mercy, and the multiple flashes were like machine gun fire.
Carelessly discarding the camera, Pinkie Pie bolted up to the unpleasantly surprised family while they were still trying to untangle themselves.  Haphazardly she assisted them, and all the while she threw herself into their startled faces as her unchained mouth spilled out a fast-paced flood of sprightly words like a broken dam.  "It's a pleasure to meet you, friends; how are you today?  Friendly weather we're having isn't it?  What's your names?  Where are you going?  Where are you coming from?  Here, have some balloons; I blew them up myself just for you cause I'm your friend!  I'm from friendly old Ponyville!  Oh, maybe we can have a party later!  We're going to best friends, I just know it!"
"Woah, woah, woah, woah.  Miss.  Miss, please!"  The father finally recovered enough to defend his family.  He snapped his tail to shake free the balloons she had tied to it and then he lightly but firmly pushed the crazy-eyed pony away to leg's length.  A patient understanding was within him; he did not swell up with rage despite everything she had done.  His weighted words were instead delicately chosen as he said, "Miss... I guess I... APPRECIATE what you are trying to do.  But... we're just trying to enjoy our family vacation; just a nice, slow trip for us as a family, together.  It doesn't really... HELP us at all when you suddenly come charging over here acting all... all..."
He was a real square-jawed stallion, and it lent him the appearance of stern wisdom.  It was easy to imagine him being tough and resolute in the face of his foals having fallen to some childish misstep that required reprimand.  However the knowledge was plain upon his face; the knowing that rebukes and guidance were very different things, and there wasn't any doubt that he would temper harsh lessons with loving support.  Even with his little ones as young as they were he had already slid so naturally into the role of a wonderful father, intuitively knowing how to dispense the right amount of discipline in measure with love in order to find the best path forward.
So he knew that he needed the perfectly selected word to describe Pinkie Pie's unwanted behavior.  Something that did not have the cold aggression of an attack; something that didn't describe an unknowing malice on her part; something which was as soft as it was negative; something which gingerly clued her in to the fact that she had crossed a line, but only in a small way.  He thought he had that perfect, gentle, but still not inaccurate word.
"... unfriendly."
Some of history's greatest villains never knew the true, unfathomable depths of their horrific atrocities simply because they had never intended those particular crimes.
Ice slithered its way up and over Pinkie Pie, from hoof, to tail, to mane.  In her frozen form she produced a jagged, broken smile.  Up and down her stiff neck went, nodding unevenly at the stallion father, barely able to summon the strength to overcome the cold which consumed her.  It was hard to spot the tears peeking up out of the corners of her eyes, especially since they came out already as frozen as crystals.  In staggered, lifeless breaths she croaked, "I'm sorry.  I'll make sure that it NEVER.  HAPPENS.  AGAIN."
With unbalanced steps her blocky body crept backwards before finally swiveling around.  Each clop away was its own battle in the war to escape, her shivering hooves coming down and digging into the deck hard as she desperately clawed her way through her retreat.
Twilight watched in agony.  "Pinkie...," she appealed to her friend as the beaten pony passed by.
Without warning the pink pony broke into a gallop, racing away down the long deck, barely dodging crashes with anypony who was in her way.  She was still shivering with uncontainable sorrow even as she ran, and she nearly tripped several times as she violently shuddered while she went.
"Pinkie!"  The unicorn charged after her friend.  However she was flabbergasted to see that she couldn't keep up no matter how hard she pushed herself.
Pinkie Pie pulled further ahead even with her distress slowing her down.  Despite a dozen near-accidents in rapid succession holding her back from full speed she frantically built distance.  Every metaphorical weight she bore wasn't enough to anchor her down for Twilight to catch.
Before for it became too late, the unicorn lit her horn and flashed away in a burst of light and smoke, reappearing a dozen paces in front of her fleeing friend.
"Pinkie!  Stop!"
With legs flailing wildly like a puppy on a waxed floor, Pinkie Pie made a sliding left turn and blitzed through a propped-open pair of double doors into the ship's interior.
Twilight called after her friend another time as she gave chase once more, only to skid to a halt once she crossed inside herself.
It was a common area, built like an atrium four levels tall and covered with a glass roof.  The noise and commotion inside was far greater than that out on deck, with a larger crowd of ponies packed into a tighter space.  They were much more engaged too, taking in the many shops and amenities offered by the ship and its crew.  Generously enough, there were three stations set up which were giving out complementary gifts.  Quite unfortunately those gifts just happened to be balloons, cotton candy, and bright pink raincoats.
The unicorn's overwhelmed vision did its best but EVERYWHERE there were now ponies dressed in pink, their bundles of colorful balloons bobbing about and their large, fluffy mounds of pink cotton candy swishing and swaying like puffs of curly hair.  It was like searching through a mirror funhouse.  She was growing dizzy just looking at it, her addled eyes perceiving pretend Pinkie Pies everywhere.
"Pinkie!  PINKIE!"
But predictably no distinctive response rose from the ignorant crowd's clamor.





"If it's going to be a few more hours then I should like to be able to enjoy this view a bit more freely," Rarity moaned.  Her magic pulled her silver-rimmed sunglasses off of her eyes and folded them up, leaving them floating next to her.  "Even if I do look rather comely in this (in my humble opinion anyway,) I feel like some sort of vagabond, hiding under wraps and behind such darkened glasses.  Not very ladylike at all, that's for sure."
She stood besides faithful Spike.  Together they rested close to the bow of the ship, taking in the blue ocean vista.
"If you take that off," the dragon gestured at her headscarf, "won't all the salt in the air dry out your mane?"
"It wouldn't be nearly as bad as going for a swim," the pompous pony replied.  Her lips bent with thought.  "Still... better safe than sorry, perhaps.  I know I included the moisture-sealing shampoo with the rest of my essentials..."
"Yeah.  It was in the blue tote bag, I think," Spike reminded her, mostly certain.  "You want me to go get it?"
"CERULEAN tote bag, Spike," she corrected him, "and 'get it?'  Why, you'd bring it here only for us to head back in so I could wash my mane with it anyhow!  No, no, it's quite alright.  I can handle the task myself."  Lighting up with magic, the knot under her chin unfurled and she pulled the headscarf off, her perfect mane emerging from underneath with a lively bounce.  Quickly the headscarf folded it up in a precise fashion and then she stored it in the same magic bubble as her sunglasses.  Warmly, with a full dose of praise, she sweetly spoke, "Besides, you've earned yourself a break, my dedicated little dragon."
He blushed while scratching the back of his neck.  "Eheh... thanks, Rarity."
"Oh, it's my delight, dear," she softly proclaimed.  "Enjoy some time for yourself.  I'll return in none too long, I think.  Ta-ta, Spikey."
Still glowing, and a little overcome with shy embarrassment, he replied, "Okay.  Later, Rarity."
Moving along with a refined trot, she departed.
Spike watched her go until she could be seen no more and then he turned back towards the ocean.  He wasn't tall enough to peer over the highest rung of the rail so he simply leaned upon one of the lower ones, releasing pleased sighs which fluttered down to join the waves stirred by the ship.  There was probably a good number of things on the boat worth seeing but he didn't particularly care to check.  At that tranquil moment he felt he didn't desire anything more than what he already had.
For many minutes he stayed in that peaceful state.  None of the distracting noises or attention-scattering things emanating from the pony traffic behind him broke through his serene shield.  He didn't even flinch in notice when his seagazing was joined by another individual who stepped up beside him and leaned down upon the rail.
It was a minute more before the dragon's infatuated high diminished enough to allow him to realize that he wasn't alone.  With a half-turned head, he peeked.  "Oh.  Hey, James."
"Hey, man.  How's it going so far?"  James wasn't tired, but it would be hard to fault anypony who presumed that he was.  The crooked way his back was bent left only his forearms to hold up all of his lazy weight, and the railing his arms rested on dug into them enough to leave a mark.  His voice, too, had an energyless sound; that far off quality that seemed to lengthen the short distance the man and dragon stood apart.
"Great!" Spike was fast to respond, lighting up.  His relative youth shined through unobstructed, bright and pure.  "We haven't even gotten to the island yet and I'm already glad for this trip!  I'm really looking forward to whatever happens next!"
James thought on the gleefully given reply for a few moments before he let it raise an easy smile upon him.  "Yeah, I'd say that I am too," he said truthfully.  Yet his answer matched only lightly with the dragon's anticipation.
Spike's delight descended into something more modest.  "You don't... sound like it," he pointedly observed.
The man rolled his head with a sluggish nod.  Almost cagey, he admitted, "I've been thinking a lot about something else this morning.  That's why."
The statement felt like an invitation.  Or that's how it seemed to the dragon anyway.  After a pause, Spike chose to accept.  "What's on your mind?"
Even if James hadn't been intentionally setting up the moment, he appeared prepared for it anyway.  Immediately he revealed, "I want to make it up to Rarity.  I mean... everything she's done for me... I want to make it up to her, and to stop being so indebted to her generosity."
"Oh.  Okay...?" the dragon returned inauspiciously.  It was an unexpected suggestion.  The words sounded good, yet there was something in the way the man presented it that didn't feel good.  The inward focus which James gave it didn't seem right.
"She's earned it," the man continued, "and I haven't done enough to keep up with my half of the friendship."  He uncomfortably shifted his feet, pressing more of his weight onto the railing, and he sighed, "That's why I've been so relentless in helping with her dresses."
"Oh..."  The single syllable sounded soaked in surprise at first, but the tiny gasp somehow changed as it finished coming out.  It especially was colored by the drop in Spike's face.  Something distraught was there; some distant cousin to disappointment, not as dismal as true despair but at least as discouraged.
James picked up on it quickly, pulling his body up in slight distress.
When the dragon saw that, he slipped into a glum nervousness and explained, "I just thought... that you were doing it, you know..."  A shrugging arm came up.  "... to be nice."
The man didn't wince.  Not that the comment hadn't done damage somewhere; it was just somewhere unseen.  He slowly brought himself back down onto the railing, hauling his heavy eyes towards the water.
Spike shrunk down, looking sorrowful and guilt-ridden.  "I, uh-"
A dismissing hand came up, reinforced with a friendly shake of a head, brushing away any doubts or fears.  No anger or blame was cast.
A short silence passed before James started up again.  He mused aloud, burdened with speculative thought, "You yourself stick around her a lot... and offer anything you can give to her, and help her all the time... and that's because you're-"  He already knew the friendship he envisioned with Rarity was much different from what the dragon felt for her so he intentionally reined in his words to keep things more neutral.  "... Because you're really fond of her, right?"
"I guess, yeah," Spike replied, still working to absorb himself in the deeper meaning of whatever the man was trying to say.  "That feels a little different, though.  I mean... I definitely don't owe her anything.  And I can't ask anything of her."  The warmth that rushed to his face was completely unconcealable.  It was with happy reserve that he muttered, "I just, uh... really like her, and I want to give her everything that I can."
"Right... Right.  I'm not saying that what I feel is the same thing," the man quietly clarified, "just that I think maybe you can kind of get where I'm coming from?"
Again the dragon seemed uncertain.  But his efforts towards attention and understanding were plainly obvious.
James sighed, "Maybe that's why I'm coming to you now?  I mean... do you have any ideas?  Just something I can do?"  An unintended emptiness appeared in him.  "Something so that she'll know how much I appreciate what she's done for me?"
"I don't know," the little dragon mused weakly, unsure if he was helping.  He opened a palm to the man, "It sounds like you really only have to tell her.  Just... thank her for everything."
It was a stark, unsatisfying answer.
The man pushed up, staring doubtfully down at his small friend, and he inquired honestly, "If you were me, would just thanking her REALLY be enough for you?"
"Well..."  The dragon rocked the hypothetical back and forth in his head, giving sympathetic swings with his tail.  At last he responded, "I guess... I'm thanking her all the time anyway because anything she does for me is really more than I could ever ask for.  I'm glad just to get the chance to do anything for her at all, really."
"But a simple 'thank you' won't make it all up to her," James gloomily protested.
Spike raised an observant eyebrow.  Innocently suspicious, he questioned, "I thought you said you just wanted her to know how much you appreciate-"
The man heaved out a strained, harsh moan, audible enough to surprise and cut off the dragon.  Caught in a trap again!  And as always, James hadn't intended to sound deceptive with dueling words; it was just like sometimes his mind and heart weren't working together properly, saying one thing but feeling another.  He struggled to express himself correctly and openly, forcing out, "I just... I'm not going to feel right if I don't make it up to her somehow."
"Oh...," Spike whispered, greater understanding seeping into him.
But now the words we're echoing about the chambers in James' head: "I'M not going to feel right."  Immediately he was reminded of how Twilight had interpreted this whole affair; her opinion as to where the problem was so determinately fixed.  If it were her standing against the railing next to him at this moment then he might have been more apt to fight against the notion.  With his smaller friend, though...
Dipping his head down with a half-turn towards the dragon, he asked in sullen realization, "You think I'm selfish, don't you?"
"I don't know about that," the dragon responded without hesitation.  However he carefully continued on, admitting the reality, "but... I know that Rarity doesn't feel like you owe her anything.  Heck, she's glad for all the help you've already given her."
James shivered.  "It's not like... not like I'm trying to ignore how Rarity feels about it.  I'm really not," he insisted, squeezing his clasped hands together.  "It's just that... I'm not a very good friend for her, Spike.  I certainly don't feel like it."  For a brief moment the selfishness declared itself openly, but it felt so wholesomely justified.  "Don't MY feelings matter too?"
"Of course they do!" Spike immediately answered, though it came more from an inability to answer any other way and they both knew it; he would absolutely never tell a friend that their feelings were inconsequential.  Unevenly he tried to produce better, clearer, and more honest words, "But I think... maybe, uh... you just... need to find a different way to sort everything out."
The man exuded exhaustion, slinking again deeply onto the railing.  "A different way... like?" he openly asked, bearing some futility in his voice.
"I don't know," the little dragon repeated another time, almost muttering in uncomfortable inadequacy.  Yet he steeled himself with some inner faith and then optimistically suggested, "Twilight's the one who really studies friendship in depth.  Maybe she would know more about-"
The drained way James glared at Spike was itself enough to get the dragon to halt his words.
The little one restarted, "Oh, you already talked to Twilight, huh?  I guess... I should've figured..."
Again giving a powerful sigh, the man tried to let any disdain evaporate away.  He truly appreciated Twilight's candor; it just hadn't been what he had wanted to hear.  Same now with the dragon, though it wasn't right to have brought anything against Spike for having made such an honest suggestion.  In consolation James tried to praise him, "More or less, you're just saying a lot of the same things that she did, so... don't discount yourself on the friendship front, okay?  You've always been a straight friend to me, from the very beginning.  Thanks."
The simple words stopped any self-reproach that had been building up inside the dragon.  In fact, he seemed to make a swift turnaround.  He stood more firmly, picking up his chest, and his tail flexed into a solid, assured curl.  Appreciatively he smiled up at the man.
After letting the silence sink back in, James picked up the conversation fresh, imploring, "I don't know exactly why I feel this way about it, Spike, but it's important to me.  Isn't there something really direct that I could physically do for her?  Like, she won't take any payment but maybe I could just buy her something nice that she wants?  Some jewelry or something?"
"Rarity likes flashy things like that," the dragon acknowledged slowly, bobbing his head.  Filled with better confidence because of the man's kind statements, he more fearlessly dove into solution divining.  He began rubbing the side of his claw against his chin, and his words steadily grew more solid as he went on, "But really the most important things to her are her friends.  If I know Rarity then what she likes best of all is seeing her friends happy, and that's why see gives to her friends so much."
In an instant everything seemed to fall into place for him, clicking in his head and drawing out a wise, friendly smile.  He gazed up at the man and encouragingly concluded, "So... if it makes you HAPPY to find some way to make things up to her... then I don't think there's anything wrong with that.  But... you don't really have to buy her anything, or even DO anything for her.  Except... you know... be happy."
Unhappy, James readjusted his dead weight over the railing.  The whole ship could've tipped with it.  They say the simple solutions are the best ones, but what would even a million 'thank you's do for Rarity after everything she had done for him?  He needed to really DO SOMETHING.  They also say, after all, that actions speak louder than words.
"Hey," the dragon perked up enthusiastically, taken by some idea of his own.  "This is a vacation and everything.  Why don't you just relax and try to enjoy it?"  He waved his claws about broadly, as if they could somehow help his explanation, "Not only will Rarity be happy to see you having a good time, but maybe the opportunity to do something extra nice for her will come up anyway!  I think you're more likely to find the right moment to do something if you're not so stuck in all that... you know, brooding."
It had been intended as earnestly given, hopeful advice, but the sour side of the man worked to hear it as something else: that if he spent less time selfishly looking inside then maybe he might see what was going on with the ponies around him.
Though... if anything... Spike was faithful to a fault.
"Alright... I guess... I guess I'll try," James uneasily accepted.  "Thanks, man."
"Hey, no problem!" Spike returned cordially.  It was hard to believe a dragon's fanged smile could appear so friendly and supportive.  "Just take it easy, keep your eyes open, and I'm SURE everything'll work out!"
The man gave an exceedingly small, uncommitted nod.
They stood at the railing together for several moments longer before James decided that, with all that he had to think about, it would be unwise to still be around when Rarity returned.
"I'm going to go," he said to his small friend, pointing his thumb behind himself.  "Take a walk around the ship or something.  Thanks again."
"Alright.  See you later!" the dependable dragon replied, having no dark doubts in his head whatsoever.
With one last nod the man walked off, making sure to take a path down the side of the deck which couldn't have crossed with Rarity's return route.  Once he had enough distance to be out of Spike's sight he eased up his stride, ambling along with just enough attention to avoid stumbling into any of the other passengers who still littered the deck rather thickly.
He didn't feel like he had found an answer which he liked.  Not with Twilight; not with Spike.  But... that was two friends now who had pushed him in the same direction.  Two distinct, different, trustworthy friends.  Could they have been right?  Was there some means by which he could just pass above his inadequacies towards Rarity and somehow let them go?  It didn't FEEL possible.  If she, his friend, supported him and he could never support her in turn... how worthless was he then?
How worthless was he to Rarity that all her wonderful generosity acted like a poison to him?
He could probably have walked the length of the ship several times just thinking about it all.  But he didn't get very far before his ears dragged him up and out of his thoughts.  He perked up at the sound of his name falling from the sky.
"Oh, hey, Rainbow Dash," he greeted the landing pegasus.
Rainbow Dash brought the rest of her hooves swiftly down onto the polished deck and folded up her wings.  Crossing from flight to standing was such second nature to her, which her fast, flawless landing had truly demonstrated given how distracted she looked.
"Have you seen Applejack?" she immediately asked.  "I lost her when we boarded."
Fresh pleasure injected itself into the man.  "Lost her?" he sarcastically snipped.  "Oh no.  How's she ever going to survive the boat without you?"
The rainbow-maned pony didn't laugh, though her face certainly gave an unbothered giggle.  "Have you seen her?" she requested again, still grinning.
"No.  Why are you looking?"
"Bored, I guess."  She blew a pipe of dull air out of the side of her mouth.  Then, with narrowed eyes and a hoisted hoof, she shared, "I don't know what these lame brains on the island are planning for us (though I'm feeling a little better about everything after seeing the hotel last night,) but I figure I should get some fun in now, just in case.  Was hoping I could get AJ in on it."
James nodded.  "Personally I am kind of looking forward to it... though... I don't really know why I am."  He let out a wish, "Just hopeful, I suppose."
"Well, good luck with that," Rainbow Dash commented whiling giving him an amused squint.
He laughed, "I get that you're a little leery, but you DON'T hope we have a good time?"
"Myehhh...," the pegasus declined to give a direct answer.
"Anyway," she picked up after a short breath, "you don't have any idea where she might be?"
"Applejack?  No, sorry."  His head tilted, shooting out a twisted, ponderous stare.  "Maybe it's just me but it feels like you've been really riding on her hard lately," he mentioned loosely.
"What?" the pony scoffed, her wings giving an offended jitter on her back.  "No way.  That's just how we get along.  We play rough with each other all the time, and I wouldn't have it any other way!"
"Sure, I guess," James accepted.  "I mean, I don't hang around enough with you both together to know."
"Trust me," Rainbow Dash assured him smugly, "we go back and forth all the time.  There's nothing I could throw at Applejack that she couldn't handle."  She polished her hoof on her chest, "Even if I am the more awesome pony."
"Alright, alright," he eased up, smirking.
The cocky pegasus gave a confident lift of her chin, haughtily holding herself up.
But something wary trickled out from behind her pretentious front, slowly drawing her face back down.  "Now that you mentioned it though...," she gently let out, "... Applejack has been way more grouchy lately than usual..."  Genuine concern mixed in evenly with her stout standing.  "I wonder what's up?  Hope everything's alright."
"I haven't really noticed much that I'd consider out of the ordinary.  Not on my days at the farm," the man said.
At other times James might have been content to leave things at relaying the simple truth.  However, the worry which peeked out from behind Rainbow Dash started to stir the lingering encouragement Spike had left inside of him.  Adopting a naturally friendly tone, he reached out to her with relaxed and hopeful words, mostly borrowed from his scaly friend, "But hey... vacation.  Maybe a few days on a tropical island will be exactly what she needs."
Standing between her own generally stalwart confidence and the good wishes which the man offered, the pegasus instantly felt secure and assuaged.  And the little friendship which he had given to her suddenly got her to respond in kind.  The singular track which her mind had been stuck on broadened.
Without warning, she looked up at him, grinned, and asked, "So, what about you?  You up for anything?"
He weighed it in his mind.  These personal troubles of his still had their gnarled hooks in him; they wanted to drag him away to brood upon Rarity or all the fears that still bothered Twilight; tempted him to be somewhere alone to stew.  But Spike's faith was still a shield over him, an extra support which backed Poppy's irrepressible love, and they together held back any doubts.  The uneasy and dark thoughts surrounded him as they sometimes did, but for once he felt like the scales were loaded favorably on the side of liberation and simple pleasure anyway.  For once the burdens didn't bend everything towards a closed mind and safe cowardice.
"Yeah, why not?" he easily accepted.  Life entered his legs.  He took to taking strong steps down the deck, with Rainbow Dash matching his stride.  "What'd you have in mind?"
Clearly she recycled her original plan for Applejack without adjustment for the changed participant.  There was no pause at all before she offered, "There's this big pool they have towards the back of the ship!  Let's do some laps; see how good of a swimmer you are.  You stroke any better than you wall ball, Tailless Wonder?"
"Oh, a swimming contest now?" the man chuckled.  A small, sorrowful gloom quickly overtook his answer, and he brought his chin down with a sigh before he humbly denied her, "Sorry, though.  I don't have a bathing suit with me.  I mean, I know we're going to an island with beaches and everything but I wasn't about to ask Rarity for swimwear on top of everything else; figured I'd just lay on the beach if it came to it."
The pegasus seemed to take the disappointment rather lightheartedly, peering at him sideways, obviously seeing his lengthy statements as only sore excuses and not as straight explanations.  "What, you need clothes to SWIM too?" she poked at him, though the side of her which believed him was genuinely struck with wonder.
Eased by her ease, he waved a playful finger about and laughed, "I guarantee you that if I try to get in that pool naked they will throw me out for indecency.  Fast."
His comment didn't really connect with her.  She scrunched her noise and gave him a peculiar look.
"You REALLY can't think of a reason why?" he asked her curiously.
The mechanisms of her mind gave his question a short, fair chance before, with a small downwards turn of her mouth, she shook her head in a simple 'no.'
James quietly snorted, not at all surprised.  It figured, really.  Nothing of THAT nature, even remotely, ever seemed to come up in anypony's mind.
The absurdity of their relative ignorance (at least to him) managed to channel a good humor into the man.  Quite suddenly his thoughts turned around and he decided, "You know what?  Let's do it."  He grabbed at the top of the free-flowing summer shorts Rarity had provided him, pulling it out and letting it snap back to his waist.  "I'll just wear these.  Maybe these dandy things will slow me down in the water, but whatever.  They'll dry in the sun."
"Haha, alright!" Rainbow Dash cheered.  With a bounce she spread and flapped her wings so as to float off of the deck.  Pointing her hoof, she boldly sneered, "You're going to get wrecked!"
"Hey, Skittle-head!  If we're going to be racing I want a fair duel.  I don't want to see you motorboating around with those wings of yours!" he warned in jest.
"Oh, please!" the pegasus brushed him off, "Wing-assisted strokes are perfectly legal in the pegasi division of the-"
"Pegasi division?  And what do I look like to you?"
"The pony whose name nopony remembers cause they got the silver medal!" she triumphantly taunted.  Blasting up higher, she soared away towards the rear of the ship while calling back, "Come on!  I'll meet you over there!"
He followed the rainbow trail, his pace accelerating.  He nimbly stepped around any ponies in front of him and politely moved to the side for any ponies walking against him.  He held on to the positive thoughts, pinning them up against his worries.  Carefully and quietly he reminded himself, "Vacation.  Vacation.  Just relax.  Relax.  Be happy.  Be happy."