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In Which Spike Goes Looking For Rarity, And Finds Something Even Better (But Also Rarity)

Chapter Nine

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“Rarity!” Spike called, his breath forming an iridescent puff of grey in the chilly night air. He pushed his hands into his pockets and looked around. He was standing on a street corner in the dark, blocks from Carousel Boutique.

After the phone call from Sweetie Belle, he and Twilight had thought of all the places Rarity could have been, and divided the town up between them. They’d called Rainbow Dash as well, since she was the fastest runner and could cover more ground. It had been at least an hour already, and they still hadn't found her.

“Rarity!” He called again, trying to force down the note of hysteria in his voice. Calm down, Spike. Don’t freak out. We’ll find her. I’m not worried. Why should I be worried? It’s only—he checked his watch—two in the morning. Okay, time to panic.

He kept walking down the street, his shoes kicking up rocks. His fingers shook in his pockets, partly from cold and partly from nerves.

He’d already checked the park, the fabric store, and countless other places he thought Rarity might be. There was just one last place he had to go before he could say he had checked everywhere. And he wasn’t all that thrilled about it.

Spike looked up at the neon sign above the door: Berry’s Punch, the only bar in town. He sighed and pushed through the doors. A bell jingled.

It was dark inside, and it smelled horrible, like smoke and sharp alcohol and something else he wouldn’t care to name. If Rarity was in here... he just didn’t want to think about that. But if she wasn’t here... well, then he didn’t want to think about that either, because it would mean they hadn’t found her, and he really might never see her again – not because she didn’t want him to, but because he couldn’t.

“Hey, kid, you’re underage.” The bartender – a woman with mulberry-colored hair that he assumed was Berry Punch, owner of the bar – yelled at him. “Get out, unless you want the police to hear about it.”

“I’m not here to buy anything.” Spike growled. “I’m just looking for a friend.”

“We’re all just looking for a friend, buddy.” Someone muttered. He turned to see a man hunched over his drink, cradling it like it was his last hope. Spike felt equal pangs disgust and pity.

Berry Punch sighed and went back to cleaning a glass. “Find your friend and then scram, alright? Ten minutes.”

“Thank you.” Spike said (albeit grudgingly), and looked around, searching for any sign of purple hair and long, graceful legs that ended in black pumps.

He found them in the corner of the bar, in the dark. Rarity had her head in her arms on the table, her shoulders shaking violently, like they had been in her office earlier that day. “Oh, Rarity.” He whispered, dodging drunks to get to her. (He tried not to take this situation as a metaphor.)

He put a hand on her shoulder, and she looked up at him, which is when he realized she wasn’t crying—she was laughing. Her mascara was smeared, tears glistening at the corners of her eyes, but she was laughing like he’d just said the funniest thing in the world.

“Spike!” She cried, her laugh becoming even more hysterical and with an edge of panic. “Of course you're here! Of course it would be you, because life just wants to screw me over!”

“Rarity, why the hell are you here?” He asked, angry. “You’re better than this!”

“Am I really, Spike, darling?” Rarity spat, swaying slightly in her chair. “I don’t think—“ She hiccuped. “I don’t think I am, because I kissed you.”

Ouch. That really stung. “Nice to know I was a mistake.” Spike said, unsure whether there was more pain or venom in his voice at the moment.

“You’re not the mistake, baby. I am.” Rarity laughed bitterly (he noticed she was laughing a lot tonight, but he wasn’t sure he liked the reasons for it). “I’m always the mistake.” She downed a shot of something amber-colored and hiccuped again.

“What are you talking about?” Spike demanded, not understanding and still very hurt. “You’re not a mistake.”

“Yes, I am.” Rarity scoffed. “I screw everything up. My little sister is never home because she can’t stand to be around me, I’ve messed up our friendship with a stupid kiss... I’m such an idiot.” She burst into tears.

Don’t hug her. Don’t hug her. Don’t—aw, buck it. Spike wrapped his arms around Rarity, and she sobbed into his shirt. Her hair smelled amazing (even after all the alcohol she’d been drinking). “Rarity, you haven’t messed up our friendship! I’m still your friend, I—I promise I’ll always be your friend.”

“But I don’t want to be your friend!” Rarity sobbed. “I want to be your girlfriend. I love you, Spike!”

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She's down in it
She tried her best but now she can't win it
Hard to see them on the ground
Her diamonds falling down...

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