//------------------------------// // Paper Honeymoon // Story: ‘Til Sunday Do Us Part // by BlazzingInferno //------------------------------//         The train chugged quietly through the night. Through her window, Rarity could see the lights of Canterlot fast approaching, as well as the generous amount of snow covering the surrounding mountains. The view was picturesque, and unfortunately, a bit colder than it needed to be.         “Spike, please stop fanning me. I’m getting a chill.”         A palm frond dropped out of Spike’s hands and landed on Rarity’s seat. She had no idea where he’d acquired such a thing, let alone the growing collection of gifts piling up on the seat next to her. It looked like he’d procured every heart-shaped object within a one-mile radius.         “S-sorry, Rarity!” Spike stammered. “Do you need a blanket, or another cup of tea? I can use my fire breath to make it as hot as you want.”         “That won’t be necessary, Spikey. You’ve done more than enough already.”         Spike sat down across from her and grinned. “Sorry, I’m just so excited. I mean, I know it’s just pretend and all, but… we’re married!”         He held up his left hand and let the gold ring on his finger catch the moonlight. “We’re married, and we’re spending the whole weekend together.”         Rarity felt the weight of the two rings on her horn bearing down on her forehead. The engagement ring was heavy enough; the wedding band felt like gold-plated lead. “Thank you for agreeing to this, Spike. I’d like to apologize for putting you in such a strange position, especially in regards to Twilight.”         Spike’s grin faltered. “I’m sorry she got so upset but… I really wanted to do this with you.”         Rarity raised an eyebrow. “Oh? You want to mingle with the upper crust of society?”         “I… uh… sure! So long as it’s with you.”         “Well, I do have to agree that this will be a better experience with a dear friend by my side.”         The squeak of brakes cut off Spike’s reply and signaled the end of the journey. He was on his feet as soon as the train came to a stop. “I’ll get all the bags, you don’t have to lift a… whoa.”         The view outside the window left them both in a trance. They’d stopped at the the edge of a massive estate. Twin lines of manicured trees guarded a long, stone walkway separating the train station from a six-story mansion. Even in the moonlight, they could see the lush gardens, marble statues, tennis courts, golf courses, and croquet lawns surrounding the building. Canterlot castle was sparse and homely by comparison.         “Are you sure this is our stop?” Spike asked.         A door opened at the front of the train car and the conductor made his way through. “Manesfield Park Hotel and Resort, all off for Manesfield Park. The next stop will be Canterlot station.”         Rarity jumped out of her seat, sending gifts flying. “Hurry, Spike! The epitome of high society awaits!”         Ten minutes later, her hooves clopped quietly on hardwood floors. The mansion was even more impressive on the inside. Chandeliers composed entirely of crystal cast an ever-changing rainbow of light on the antique furniture and well-dressed ponies that inhabited the main hall. It took a good deal of self-control not to skip, or even smile too broadly. Decorum. High Society. That was the order of the day, and would remain so for as long as they dwelt here.         The reception desk was polished to a mirror shine. Reaching up to ring the bell, and possibly smudge its finish, grated against Rarity’s sense of perfection. A voice called to her before she got the chance.         “Rarity! How lovely to see you again.” A tall, elegant unicorn with a glistening white coat and a light pink mane trotted over. “I don’t suppose you remember me from the Canterlot Garden Party all those years back?”         Rarity bowed. “Why of course I do, Fleur Dis Lee; how could I forget?”         “Please, call me Fleur. I trust you received my… invitation?” Her wink said it all.         Rarity beamed. “Yes, and I can’t begin to describe how overjoyed it made me. I’ve heard rumors of the club, of course, but seeing the actual emblem of—”         Fleur silenced her with a slight raise of a hoof. “We take our privacy very seriously. I trust you read through all the finer points of the invitation?”         Rarity nodded. “Of course! In fact, my—” After a quick look around the room, she located Spike, or rather the slow-moving mountain of luggage that he was at the base of. “—my dear, sweet husband is just bringing in our bags now.”         She raced over to him and undid the clasp on one of the saddlebags. The invitation and the ever-important marriage license floated out in her magic grasp. She returned to Fleur’s side just as the luggage mountain collapsed, engulfing a nearby bellhop in the process.         “As you can see, I am indeed married.”         Fleur laughed and pushed the papers away. “Oh Rarity, the note about needing to provide proof is merely a formality, one that hasn’t been exercised in years, I might add. As if anypony would fake being married.”         Rarity forced herself to giggle. “Indeed. How… how silly.”         Spike climbed his way out of the pile of luggage and twitching bellhop limbs. “I… I think that’s all the bags, Rarity.”         Fleur’s eyes lit up. “Ah, and is this your husband?”         Rarity nodded. “Yes. Spikey dearest, I’d like you to meet Fleur. She’s the one who sent us the invitation.”         Spike, to his credit and Rarity’s relief, bowed low and kissed Fleur’s outstretched hoof. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Fleur. I’m Spike.”         Fleur smiled. “Aren’t you the charmer! How long have the two of you been married?”         Rarity opened her mouth, but not fast enough.         “About four hours,” Spike said.         Fleur reared up on two legs. “Hours? Why didn’t you say so?”         She rapped on the reception desk, summoning three attendants. “See to it that my friends are upgraded to the honeymoon suite.”         Rarity gasped. “Oh, that’s too kind of you, Fleur. I assure you it isn’t—”         “I insist! My husband, Fancy Pants, owns this whole resort. Consider it a wedding present.”         A unicorn attendant stepped around the desk with two heart-shaped keys. “Shall I show you to your accommodations? Please allow us to handle the bags, sir.”         Spike breathed a sigh of relief. “Finally. Lead the way, my good pony.”         As Spike walked away, Rarity felt a hoof on her shoulder. Fleur leaned down and whispered in her ear, “Married to a dragon! I must say, I’m surprised. It’s rare to find a pony that’s… into that sort of thing. One of these days, you simply must tell me more.”         Once again, Fleur’s wink said it all.         Rarity could hear herself speaking, although the syllables involved didn’t form any actual words. She backed up, slowly at first, and finally managed a coherent “goodnight” before turning to run.         Try as she might, Rarity couldn’t outrun her shame. She had to settle for catching up with Spike, who’d just been handed a key to their room. “Spike, wait. We simply must go back to the front desk and demand the two rooms I originally res—” Then she saw the bellhop next to the stack of luggage. “—err, what I mean to say is… is…”         The bellhop tossed her the other key. “It’s really no trouble, Ma’am. I guarantee that it’d take more luggage than this to fill up the suite. There’s no need for a second room when you have a full walk-in closet at your disposal.”         She sighed. “Thank you. I believe my… my husband and I can take things from here.”         “Of course. Have a good night.”         Rarity stumbled into their room and sat on the floor. Calling this a honeymoon suite was very apt. Everything, from the bedspread to the oversized dresser to the hand towels, was decorated with red hearts. She dragged a hoof against the matching heart inlays in the hardwood floor. Surely this can’t get any worse.         Spike ran past her and jumped on the bed. “Cool, they gave us a box of chocolates and a bottle of cider!”         Rarity watched him rifling through the box on the bed, wishing more than anything that she could borrow some of his excitement. “Spike, about the sleeping arrangements…”         Spike froze. “Oh… oh, right! I’ll sleep on that couch over there, it looks comfy.”         “Thank you.”         As soon as he’d vacated the bed, Rarity collapsed on it, face down. The silk sheets might as well have been sandpaper. “This is the most unladylike thing I’ve ever done. Why did I think this was a good idea?”         She felt the mattress sink as Spike sat down next to her. “It is a good idea, Rarity. I’ll sleep on the couch tonight, we’ll spend tomorrow together with the elites, and then on Sunday we’ll catch the train back home. I’m going to do everything I can to make sure you have a good time. Want some chocolate?”         She rolled onto her side and nodded. “You’re such a dear, Spike, putting up with this crazy scheme of mine.”         He reached into the sizable box and held out a chocolate oat truffle, her favorite. “So… what exactly are we doing tomorrow, anyway?”         Rarity mulled this over while she chewed. “Well, it is a high-society function. I expect the usual: tea parties, croquet, exchanging pleasantries…”         “What do I need to do?”         She looked into his eyes and smiled. “Why Spikey, you’re my husband; I need you by my side for every waking moment.”         He grinned, and, unless she was mistaken, blushed a little. “I was hoping you’d say that.” ---         A good night’s sleep did wonders for Rarity. Before the sun rose, she was up and in the midst of the most important part of any morning: deciding what to wear. The walk-in closet could have been better described as a second bedroom lined with coat racks. If it wasn’t for her wardrobe, she’d have had Spike sleep in there instead.         She paced from rack to rack, surveying the small subset of her dress collection that she’d brought along. If only she’d been able to fit more in her bags. Choosing between a mere thirty dresses for such an auspicious occasion just felt wrong. No matter; for The Blue Pony Society, she’d just have to throw something together.         Finally, Rarity pulled a gown from its hanger and slipped into it. The jewels sewn into the hem sparkled, even in the dim light of the closet. Was this one too much? She couldn’t let her sense of fashion outshine one of the other club members. Or was it too little? She couldn’t risk being a drab little pony, forgotten the moment the meeting ended. Her impression needed to be one of inclusion, one that showed that she belonged among them and nowhere else.         Something shiny caught Rarity’s eye. She walked to a nearby folding table and stared at the two velvet boxes resting on it. At least this part of her ensemble was ready-made. She slipped the rings onto her horn and turned to the full-length mirror.         She held out a hoof to make her reflection’s acquaintance. “Charmed; I am Rarity… Rarity, fashionista and dress designer.” Her gaze drifted back to the rings and she struck a pose. “That’s Mrs. Rarity, fashionista and dress designer extraordinaire. And this is my dashing husband, Sp—”         The closet door slid open and Rarity screamed, “Spike! Out!”         The door slammed shut and Spike’s tearful voice drifted through a moment later. “I’m so, so sorry, Rarity! I-I just woke up and heard you talking and… wait… why is this a big deal?”         She rested her head against the mirror, partly to avoid seeing her own reddening face. “Excuse me?”         “I mean… I know you design dresses and everything, but… we don’t wear clothes all the time,” Spike said.         Rarity sighed. “I suppose it is a rather strange social norm. Spike, in higher society, certainly higher than Ponyville at least, the act of getting dressed and undressed is considered… rather intimate.”         He gasped. “Gosh, I never thought of… I’m so sorry!”         “Please, don’t be. Just give me a moment to—”         It seemed Rarity’s magic had gained its own sense of irony. Try as she might, her gown wouldn’t cooperate. “Spike? Are you still there?”         “Y-yes?” Spike stammered.         “Could you…” She knocked her head against the mirror again. “…Could you please come help me? My zipper is stuck.”         “…And you want me to—”         “Yes, and then never mention this again, should you value your life.”         The rest of the morning routine was mercifully mundane. After a few hours of makeup and manestyling, Rarity was ready to go. Spike, thankfully, required almost no prep time at all. The outfit she’d brought for him, a black suit jacket and white tie, was the finest thing she’d ever seen him wear. Best of all, it didn’t have any hard-to-reach zippers.         She placed a hoof on the door handle and took one last look at him. “Ready to go, Spikey-Wikey?”         He nodded and smiled wide. “You bet! I’ll be by your side the whole time, just like you said.”         “Thank you. Just remember that we’re going to be mingling with the elite of the elite today; we both need to be on our absolute best behavior. Today we must be a husband and wife that clearly deserve permanent membership in The Blue Pony Society,” Rarity said.         “Got it. Oh, then let me get that, dearest.”         Spike rushed forward and opened the door for her. She couldn’t help but smile as she walked into the hall. Perhaps this wasn’t such a bad idea after all. Regardless of her standing as a lady, he certainly knew how to treat her like one.         That thought ceased when Fleur exited a room two doors down and rushed over. “Good morning, Rarity, Spike. I trust your night was… enjoyable?”         Rarity didn’t have enough willpower to force a convincing smile. Instead, she turned to Spike and gave him the biggest kiss her lips could manage. He rocked back on his heels, but kept contact, and matched technique, for the precious seconds she needed to scrape a few words together.         Finally, she turned back to Fleur and smiled. “I… I can’t complain. Right, Spikey?”         Spike gave a dreamy nod. “I definitely can’t.”         Fleur giggled. “I’m so glad. I was actually on my way to our meeting. Would the two of you care to accompany me?”         Rarity nodded. “That would be lovely. Come along, dear.”         Spike did as she asked, and together, they followed Fleur down the hallway. The only saving grace to this situation, if it could be called that, was the marriage license. Rarity and Spike were in fact married; in the sight of law and society, she was free to kiss him as often as she liked, and he certainly hadn’t offered up any sort of complaint on the matter. Still, she couldn’t keep forcing herself on him like this. His feelings, whatever they were, needed to be respected. At least Rarity wasn’t married to the Spike of a few years ago, the dragon who’d barely been able to conceal his little crush on her. Those times were in the past, thankfully. The Spike of today was a dependable friend who went out of his way to help others, even when they, such as herself, clearly didn’t deserve it. How could she make this awkward weekend up to him? A nice dinner, or a gem-hunting trip, perhaps? She’d have to mull it over once she’d escaped Fleur’s prurient gaze.         She shut her eyes tight. The Blue Pony Society, Rarity. Make a good impression, cement your position amongst the elite, possibly secure future dressmaking business, and get out. This can still be a wonderful weekend. This meeting will make it so.         Rarity opened her eyes just in time to avoid bumping into Fleur. They’d stopped in front of a set of ornate double doors that were carved with beautiful depictions of ponies at a fancy dress ball.         Fleur leaned against one of the doors and smiled. “Welcome to The Blue Pony Society.”