• Published 3rd Oct 2012
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The Album - Peregrine Caged



A collection of 'snapshots', short stories that represent Moments in the lives of various ponies

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Spike -- Havin' a Good Time

Written by:statoose
Rated Everyone



Spike awoke to golden sunlight streaming through the window of the bedroom he and his adopted sister shared. He sat up straight in his basket and scratched his belly, dropping his jaw in a refreshing yawn. He blinked several times, surprised at his wakefulness, but shrugged it off and flung the blankets from his toasty body.

As he crawled out of bed, he could see Twilight still sleeping peacefully in her own. Goodness knows how familiar he was that sight; Twilight staying up late into the night studying, not waking until well after her mentor's sun had risen.

After a quick stretch to alleviate any stiffness he felt, Spike skipped out of the bedroom and bounded downstairs to find the library in mild disarray. There were books scattered about on various tables and a few stacked precariously on the floor. Spike figured Twilight must not have had the energy to tidy up after both a day of business and a night of studying. Well, the library's opening hours were still some ways away, so he figured he had plenty of time to clean up.

Hm, might as well make breakfast while I'm at it, he thought. Mmm... Pancakes sound good! But first...

The dragon briskly waddled to where the library's gramophone stood on top of a small cabinet filled with various records. He opened the big drawer and skimmed through its contents until he found the record he was looking for. Carefully removing its sleeve, he set the disk on the gramophone's turntable, switching it on and putting the needle in place.

“Tonight, I'm gonna have myself, a real good time," began the song as the gramophone crackled to life.

Spike smiled in satisfaction and got moving. He went to the kitchen and took a cast iron pan from one of the cupboards and put it on the stove, turning on the flame to begin heating it up.

“I'm floating around, in ecstasy, so don't, stop, me nooow!” the song resonated throughout the library.

“Don't, stop, me,” Spike sang along as he ran back out of the kitchen. “'Cause I'm–

“Havin' a good time–” Spike slid out of the kitchen on his knees, hands in the air. “–Havin' a good time!”

Spike jumped to his feet and set about cleaning up the library. He quickly grabbed a small stack of books from the reading table and looked at their titles. Knowing their locations from memory, he ran around the room, replacing them where they belonged on the various shelves.

I'm gonna go, go, go! There's no stoppin' meeeee!

Spike completed his first circle around the library and zoomed back into the kitchen. Throwing on an apron and a plump chef's hat, he swiftly opened the refrigerator and grabbed a milk carton, two eggs, and tray of butter. Dropping the armful on the counter, he reached into an overhead cupboard for a bag of flour, baking soda, salt, and a mixing bowl.

“Don't, stop, me noooow!” Spike continued to sing along as he cracked the eggs on the edge of the bowl. Sliding one foot behind the other, he performed a little spin to the rhythm of the song, tossing the empty shells over his head and into the garbage bin. Smirking, he added the rest of the ingredients, stirring them around until they formed a batter.

Don't, stop, me noooow!

“'Cause I'm havin' a good time!” Spike checked the metal pan's heat with one of his fireproof claws and determined it would need just a little more time. He ran out of the kitchen, threw off the apron and hat – “I don't wanna stop at aaaaaall!” – and scooped up another stack of books.

Running around the room again, he slid the tomes into their respective places, occasionally having to jump up quickly so as to reach the higher shelves. When he came to the last book, which belonged on a shelf out of his jumping range, he skittered to the library's rolling ladder and slid it over.

“I'm burning through the skyyy, yeah!” He climbed the ladder with practiced agility. “Two hundred degrees, that's why they call me 'Mister Fahrenheit'!” He punctuated the nickname by flicking the last book into place. Keeping his movements in time, he jumped off the ladder, landing in a surprisingly skilled somersault on the floor, then ran back into the kitchen.

He threw on the apron and chef's hat once more and carried his batter-filled mixing bowl to the now fully-heated pan on the stove. Using a large spoon, he poured some of the batter into the pan, then set aside the bowl and – routinely discarding the apron and hat – sped out of the kitchen again.

He briefly looked around and grabbed a few scattered books that he knew belonged on high shelves.

Don't stop me, don't stop me, ooh ooh ooh!

He climbed up the ladder and, holding the stack of books in one claw, pushed off of the shelf, setting the ladder in motion. As the song reached it's crescendo that marked the beginning of the instrumental interlude, the ladder rolled smoothly around the room. Spike quickly slid the books into their places as it rolled – reaching low to place one on a shelf below him, high to do the opposite, back to place one on a shelf he had almost missed, and push off again to keep the ladder moving.

As he put the last book in place, the ladder came to a stop and Spike slid down the side of it. His little legs were already running by the time they touched the floor. He dashed back into the kitchen (it needn't be mentioned that he threw the apron and hat on again, so we won't bother from here on out) and took a spatula from a vase of various large utensils. He lifted one side of the pancake to check that it was properly browned. Seeing that it was – “I wanna make a supersonic mare outta you!” – he tossed the half-cooked pancake into the air with a fancy little flourish of his arms. Before it could land perfectly on its opposite and uncooked side, Spike was already out of the kitchen and picking up more books.

Don't, stop me noooow!

“I'm havin' such a good time!”

He leapt to the edge of a high shelf, clutching the edge with his toes. He had just enough time to slide a book into place before gravity overtook him and he landed back down on the floor. After putting a couple more books back he re-entered the kitchen and removed the cooked pancake, setting it on a cooling rack next to to stove, and poured another spoonful of batter onto the pan.

Don't, stop, me noooow!

“'Cause I'm havin' a good time!”

The library was almost completely tidied up by now, and the song was likewise coming to its close.

“Let’s finish this before it ends!” Spike challenged himself with a grin.

That left him with just under thirty seconds to do so. He sprinted as fast as he could, still singing, to the last stack of books. He circled one final time around the library, having to jump up against a bookase again once or twice, and just as he put the last one in its place, the song reached its final verse.

La la, la la la..." the gramophone crooned, repeating the melody of the song’s introduction.

Spike walked into the middle of the library, animatedly singing along, eyes closed with one claw on his chest, the other outstretched dramatically.

When the song finally trailed off, Spike let the silence hang for a moment and took a bow. But as he did so, he heard the sound of quiet applause.

He looked up to see Twilight at the top of the stairs, clapping for his performance. Though feeling a little embarrassed, he bowed again, nonetheless.

“Uh... heh,” Spike began, scratching the back of his head bashfully as a small blush adorned his face. “How long've you been there?”

“Not long. Just enough to see the finale,” Twilight said, smiling at him. “And are those pancakes I smell?” she added as she sniffed the air.

“Uh, yeah. Speaking of which, I need to flip that one.” He jogged to the kitchen as Twilight went back into the bedroom to do her morning chores.

“Uh, sorry I woke you, by the way,” Spike called apologetically after he had flipped the pancake. “Guess I didn't think of that, heh...”

“Oh, don't worry, Spike. It's about time I got up, anyway,” Twilight answered with a wry little chuckle.

With a sigh of relief, Spike poured some water from the faucet into a kettle and began heating up for pot of tea. He set it on a burner next to the pan and went back to making pancakes. Pour, wait, flip, wait, take off pan, repeat. He had done this thrice more – accompanied by his own humming of the song that was still playing in his head – when Twilight came down the stairs.

Spike took the kettle off the stove and poured its contents into a tea pot along with a healthy amount of leaves from a little box. Twilight went about setting the dining table for the two of them. As she levitated the cooked pancakes on to a large plate, Spike poured more batter into the pan and joined the purple mare at the table.

“Thank a lot for this, by the way,” Twilight said as they ate, motioning to the library. “I was so tired last night that I didn't think to clean up.”

“Oh yeah, no problem. I kinda figured that,” Spike said with a smile and a chuckle. He crammed the rest of his pancake and went back into the kitchen to flip the one still in the pan. After that, he took the pot of brewed tea and returned to the table.

“Whoops, hang on,” he said, realizing something was missing after he had set it down. He ran back into the kitchen, returning a moment later with a tea cozy that he placed on the pot. At the ringing of his mental clock, the dragon turned around to flip the next pancake, but Twilight gently grabbed his shoulder with her magic.

“I'll take care of it,” she said with a warm smile as she got up from her chair. “You've done enough work this morning.” She briefly nuzzled Spike on her way to the kitchen; he returned it happily with a word of thanks.

While waiting for Twilight to come back with more pancakes – which, he didn’t bother denying to himself, were pretty darn good – he occupied himself by pouring cups of tea for the two of them. Adding his preferred amount of sugar and cream, Spike didn't bother to let it cool – being a dragon and all – and he had been sipping contentedly for a minute or two when Twilight finally returned. With her she was levitating three fresh pancakes which she put on the big plate between them. She thanked him for a second time that morning upon noticing the cup of tea he poured for her.

After a couple minutes of companionable silence induced of happy munching and sipping of tea passed, Twilight spoke. “So, why'd you clean up this morning? I mean, I'm not ungrateful or anything, it's just that you usually don’t go through all that work – and this–” She motioned to the breakfast before them. “–without me asking.”

Spike paused with the tea cup in his claw halfway to his mouth and thought for a moment. "Hm... I dunno, actually." He smoothed down the scales on his head with a sly smirk – "I guess I just felt like,” – put on a pair of sunglasses – “havin' a good time," – and finished it off by taking a sip of tea.

Twilight just stared at him blankly.

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