Playing the Scales
Spike stared out the window as the darkened scenery flew by in a blur. He huffed, fogging the glass, and sketched little formless swirls. There was a knock at the door to his cabin. Spike walked over, pulling a train ticket out of his opened duffel bag as he went, and opened the door for the conductor. The conductor checked the ticket, peered over Spike’s head to look for more passengers, and punched it with a tip of his hat before moving down to the next cabin.
Spike shoved the ticket back into the duffle and zipped it up. He frowned as the image of the conductor standing over him stuck in his head. He climbed up one of the daybeds that made up the seats of the first class train cabin and stared at his own reflection. The image looking back at him wasn’t very different at all from the one that had been there when he and Twilight had first moved to Ponyville so long ago. His spines had grown a little more defined, and most of his baby gut had melted away, but his face still had that short, childish snout and wide, round eyes. A grown dragon’s features would be much sharper, more angular and vicious looking. And of course his height remained a constant sore spot for him; he’d had his first growth spurt when he was three and had barely gained two inches in height in so many decades.
His frown curled into a smirk. At least he’d gained a little muscle. Not a lot, but when he flexed just right…
“Lookin’ good, Spike,” he cheered himself on as he cycled through a few poses, admiring the small lumps in his arms where his biceps bulged.
Spike was so enraptured by his physique that he never noticed the quiet hiss of the cabin door sliding open.
“Oh! I’m so sorry!” somepony shouted behind him.
“Eek!” Spike screeched… in a manly way. He covered his chest with his arms and pulled a leg up in reflex. “I mean: ach!”
“So very sorry,” the mare at the door apologized as she looked away with an arm covering her eyes. “Um, I thought this cabin would be empty.”
Spike’s anger at being surprised quickly faded with a sigh. “No, no, it’s okay.”
“Can… can I look now…?” she asked timidly.
“Well I’m not posing anymore if that’s what you’re asking,” Spike replied with a roll of his eyes.
She uncovered her face and coughed into a hoof politely.
“I am very, very sorry about that,” she apologized again. “You see the other cabins were all full or locked. And I’d rather not go to coach, seeing as I paid for a first class ticket…”
“Ah, well in that case, please, join me,” Spike said with a welcoming wave of his claw.
The charcoal haired, slate coated mare thanked him and placed her own carryon baggage on the daybed opposite Spike’s. She took a seat and checked her reflection, adjusting her prim little bowtie before turning back to Spike.
“Again, very sorry,” she smiled.
“Don’t mention it,” Spike replied with a smile of his own. “Really. I mean it. Never.”
The mare covered her mouth daintily with a hoof and snickered politely. “Honestly, don’t be too embarrassed about it. We all do strange things when we think we’re alone.”
“Oh?” Spike asked with a raise of his eyebrow. “What sort of things, miss…?”
“Oh, my name is Octavia Melody, but just Octavia is fine,” she said with a nod. “And a gentlecolt never asks such things, mister....”
“Spike,” he answered with a respectful bow of his head. “And that’s hardly fair. You saw me do something embarrassing and you won’t even the score? How mean.”
Octavia shook her head at him with a playful grin. “Well I’m sorry, but a lady never speaks of such things. If you want to know what embarrassing things I do by myself you’ll have to walk in on me like I did to you.”
Her eyes widened as her own words sunk in.
Spike laughed loudly. “Actually, don’t worry about the score: that was plenty embarrassing. I think we’re square.”
“Well, I’m glad you’re amused,” she scoffed and shifted her gaze out the window and away from the teasing dragon.
Spike choked back his laughter and leaned against the wall. “You look familiar, by the way,” Spike said with a glance at her Cutie Mark: a little treble cleft music note.
“Well I should hope so,” she replied. “I only live a few streets down from the library. I’ve seen you around myself, not that you’re hard to miss.”
“Ah, that’s right!” Spike said with a snap of his claws. “I’ve seen you around sometimes. You’re a musician, if I remember. You’ve played at a few parties I’ve been to, too.”
“That’s right,” she nodded. “I’m a cellist.”
“Ooph, that’s a tough instrument for an earth pony to play,” he commented.
“Yes, but I love it, so I put the work in.”
“Oh, of course,” Spike nodded. “I get that completely. Gotta say though, if you live so close I wonder why we’ve never met like this before.”
Octavia shrugged. “I spend a lot of time traveling with the orchestra and working evenings. And I imagine the princess keeps you busy with your work. You’re her personal aide, yes?”
“Her assistant,” Spike corrected. “Or I was…”
“Oh, um…” Octavia muttered, wondering if maybe she’d brought up a sore subject. “Were you… let go…?”
Spike shook his head. “Nothing like that, no. I was sort of… reassigned I guess. Twilight’s been more or less my sister all my life; she hatched me out of my egg. I just did what I had to, to support her career aspirations, I guess. Can’t really fire me from a job I only ever did out of love. Since she became a princess, though, her schedule has gotten kind of crazy.”
“How so?” Octavia asked.
“Just a lot of royal business: trips and meetings and stuff,” he explained. “She said she wanted me to spend more time for myself, so she took on a team of aides to handle that stuff for her. I guess that’s flattering: that she needs a whole team of ponies to do the job of one Spike.”
“Something to be proud of,” she agreed. “What do you do now, then?”
“I’ve more or less just taken over her old job as the librarian in Ponyville, just because nopony else was there to do it and I knew the job.”
“That doesn’t sound so bad,” she smiled.
“Yeah, I suppose,” he sighed. “I grew up in libraries, and I love reading… but I don’t get to see my sister so much now… at least when I was assisting her we were together…”
“Oh, I hadn’t thought of that,” Octavia muttered with a downcast look.
Spike noticed the change in her demeanor, as though his words had hit against something sore inside of her. He certainly hadn’t meant to spoil her good humor, especially since her company had begun to cheer him up as well. He coughed gently to get her attention back before she could follow that rabbit too far.
“So are you originally from Manehattan?” he asked.
“Hm?” she hummed as she looked up. “Oh, my accent… No, I’m originally from Salt Lick City, but I got a scholarship into an early start program at a conservatory in Manehattan when I was a filly. I grew up there. Most of my fellow students were from cultured families in the city, so I sort of picked up the affectation to fit in. Now it’s just how I normally speak.”
“Which conservatory?”
“Mulelliard.”
“You went to Mulelliard?” Spike questioned. “That’s really impressive. That’s not an easy place to make it.”
“Do you know it?”
“I know of it,” Spike nodded. “Twilight had a correspondence with a professor there when she was doing research on magical harmonics. Really competitive place, if the few visits we had were any indication.”
Octavia smiled and turned back to the window. “I was very competitive, yes, but I loved it. Being around so many ponies that loved music… it was a dream come true…”
Spike smiled, happy that he’d turned the conversation back around.
“Is this your first trip to Lunar Bay?” Spike asked.
“Yes, but I’ve always wanted to visit,” Octavia said.
“That’s a little odd for a lifelong dream,” Spike chuckled. “Lunar Bay isn’t that popular of an attraction compared to somewhere like Rainbow Falls or the Great Chasm.”
Octavia blushed a bit. “Well I wouldn’t quite call it a lifelong dream, but… there was this song that I heard when I was a filly, by Chubby Cheetah, called Gentle Shores… Not many ponies know but he wrote it about a breakwater lagoon there. It’s one of my favorites, so…”
“I know that song,” Spike said with a raised claw. “It’s a piano piece.”
“Now I’m the one that’s impressed,” she complemented with a smile. “It was hardly one of his better selling records.”
“I’m something of a music fan myself,” Spike replied with a buff of his claw against his chest.
“I can see that. So what about you? First trip?”
“Yup, I got a flier in the mail about a travel package that looked like a pretty good deal, so I went for it. It was an impulsive thing but it came at a good time. Just needed to get out of Ponyville for a while; clear my head, you know?”
“I know exactly what you mean,” she smiled. “I got the same flier.”
“Did you really?” Spike chuckled. “Guess we’re vacation buddies, then.”
Octavia giggled as well. “I suppose so.”
***
Spike threw himself on the extra large bed in his suite and rolled around contentedly. When he’d booked the room the previous week, he’d asked the travel agent for one with the largest bed they had, and the agent had not disappointed him.
Spike had spent many years in a cramped basket like a pet kitten. When he’d taken over the library and moved into the full-sized bed, he’d realized what he’d been missing that whole time.
He stretched with a yawn, tempted to take a nice long nap, when he noticed the clock on his nightstand. It was nearly sunset and he’d promised to meet with Octavia for dinner.
He smiled as he thought of the mare. They’d spent the entire night talking while the train carried them to their destination. They’d mostly talked about music or books. Spike had been pleasantly surprised to find that, despite having never seen her visit the library, Octavia was very well read. She belonged to a mail order book club and had several very opinionated pen pals that she regularly discussed literature with.
By the time they’d talked themselves into exhaustion, Celestia had brought the sun to its early morning position in the sky. They’d slept most of the morning, waking for a very late lunch and continuing the previous night’s discussion over whether Trotstoyevsky was overrated or not.
They’d reached Lunar Bay only two hours before, and while Spike had left to check in at the hotel, Octavia had stayed behind to watch the couriers unload her cello. She’d been planning to play for herself, but Spike had gotten her to promise him a private concert.
He rolled off the bed reluctantly, wincing at the loud pop in his spine as he landed; the train’s daybed had been soft, but nothing compared to a real bed.
“I’ll be back for you later, baby,” he told the bed with a playful slap at the mattress.
He took one last look around the room, marveling for the second time that afternoon at how far his bits had gone. He was staying in what the hotel had called their ‘Sea View Balcony Suite’. The sleeping area was separate from a furnished living space with a small fireplace, dining area, and a spacious balcony that overlooked the ocean. There was even a small button next to the entrance that would ring a bell in the lobby to summon a bellhop to take room service orders.
He’d broken the bank, dipping into his savings, to book the room, but such a room could have easily cost thrice the price on its own. He almost never spoiled himself, but in this instance he was glad he’d thrown caution to the wind.
Spike slipped a satchel over his shoulder and put the necessities inside: a pouch of bits, a small bag of gems, gum, a quill, ink, some paper, and his room key.
He left the room and walked to the elevator. The hotel speakers pumped in some boring saxophone loop that sounded like the musician was trying to make the instrument confess to a crime. He grimaced at the noise and jabbed at the lobby button to make the elevator speed up.
The doors opened and he stepped into the spacious entrance, glad to be away from the saxophone’s horrible wailing. His relief was short lived as he noticed the commotion at the front desk.
“I’m truly sorry, ma’am,” the concierge, a prim looking blue earth stallion, was saying, “but these things do tend to happen, especially with economy packages such as yours.”
Spike frowned at the stallion’s condescending tone. He walked to the desk and tapped his new friend on her shoulder.
“There a problem, Octavia?” he asked.
“Spike, hello,” she greeted tersely. “This fellow says they overbooked my room. They gave it away to somepony else a bit before I got here.”
Spike looked at the clerk harshly. “Well?”
The concierge lifted an eyebrow condescendingly. “We did indeed give the young lady’s room, for which I’ve apologized, but it is our policy to overbook in case of cancellations.”
“And there’s a reason you can’t give her another room of equal quality?”
“Because we have no rooms, of any quality, I assure you. It doesn’t happen often, but none of our reservations canceled this weekend, so we are fully booked.”
Spike’s frown deepened. “Well, can you provide her a refund so she can at least book somewhere else?”
“I’m afraid because of the nature of her reservation, we cannot authorize a refund until Monday,” the stallion informed them. “We will need to verify it with the travel agent, and I’m afraid that the manager who negotiates such… bargains… is out for the weekend. But first thing Monday you may expect him to make the arrangements.”
“Monday is too late!” Octavia snapped. “I don’t have enough on me to cover the cost of a last minute booking somewhere else.”
“I’m afraid there’s nothing I can do,” he replied with a bow.
Octavia sat heavily and slumped in defeat. “Suppose I’ll be sleeping on the beach this weekend…
“Give her the key to 403,” Spike ordered the clerk. “That’s my room. The package I was paying for was for two occupants anyway, just add her as my guest.”
Octavia looked up. “What? Spike, no, I couldn’t.”
Spike gripped her shoulder gently. “Hey, it’s a really big room, and that’s what friends are for.”
She gave a watery, nervous smile and nodded to the concierge who was already amending the guest ledger and retrieving a spare key. He passed the key to Octavia and ordered the bellhop, a bored-looking unicorn teenager, to take her luggage to the suite.
“Still up for dinner?”
***
Spike and Octavia sat in a dimly-lit lounge a little down the road from their hotel. They’d been in the process of arguing over where to eat when Spike had noticed a sign advertising live music. The restaurant wasn’t very packed for dinner hours, but that was fine with them. The live music had turned out to be a marvelous grand piano that sat on an elevated stage in the center of the restaurant. Sadly, the pianist had only played a few songs before announcing her break.
Octavia poked at her salad lazily, spearing a tomato at the end of her fork and dragging it through the dressing. Across from her Spike was rooting around in his satchel for something, his soup untouched.
“Aha,” he proclaimed silently. “Found you, you tasty little things.”
Octavia watched as he produced a small pouch and upturned the contents over his soup. Octavia’s jaw dropped when she saw that what she had thought were croutons were in fact gems of various type, size, and quality.
“Why are you doing that?” she asked.
“Taking this appetizer from drab to fab,” he replied. He grabbed a spoon and dug into his potato and gem soup. He chewed away happily, grinding the gems in his mouth loudly like ice cubes.
“Wow,” Octavia muttered. “I had no idea dragons could eat gems.”
“It’s one of our favorite treats,” he informed her. He opened his mouth and gave her a good view of his teeth. They weren’t the broad, flat teeth of a pony; they were little dull points. “Dragon teeth. Mine aren’t sharp like a full grown dragon’s, but they’re made for grinding up stones. I can chew diamonds like they’re rock candy.”
Octavia blinked at that information. She knew that dragons could grow very large, and that Spike was very young for a dragon, but she realized that she really didn’t know how old he was.
Spike sipped from a glass of the wine he’d chosen for their dinner and noticed Octavia giving him an odd look.
“I know that look,” he said with a sigh. He held up the glass and gave it a little swirl. “You’re wondering if I’m old enough to drink this.”
Octavia cleared her throat sheepishly. “I… I may have been wondering, yes…”
“Well, I am,” Spike replied patiently. “Twilight hatched me when she was six, and she’s a stone’s throw from thirty now, so you can do the math on that.”
“But for a dragon you’re…?” she asked hesitantly, taking a sip of her own glass.
“An adolescent,” he explained patiently. “But really, size doesn’t mean much to dragons in terms of age. The size of a dragon is determined mainly by the size of his treasure hoard. I don’t hoard, and so I grow at a… I suppose you could call it an organic pace, rather than a magical one. I probably won’t be getting another growth spurt for another twenty or thirty years, and it probably won’t be a big one.”
“But if you hoarded…?”
“I’d probably be as big as our hotel,” he said with a nod. “By any other definition I’m an adult. And let me tell you, I’ve met other dragons; I’m more mature than dragons five times my age.”
Spike nodded to the sommelier that appeared to refill his glass. “Or so I’ve been told, anyway. Personally I think a little immaturity is an important part of a well rounded adult.”
Octavia relaxed a little and smiled. “Well, I think you’re very mature. I’m sorry if I offended you.”
“Don’t be, you didn’t,” Spike said with a wave of his spoon. “It’s not like there are many dragons in Equestria. You were just curious. What kind of librarian would I be if I got upset at somepony who only wanted to satisfy her curiosity?”
“Even so,” she said. “It has to be tiring to constantly have to explain that to ponies.”
“I’m used to it,” he answered with a shrug. “Just comes with being a weirdo dragon that prefers living with ponies to other dragons.”
“You’re not weird, you’re… unique.”
Spike’s smile faltered for just a moment, just enough that Octavia had nearly missed it.
“You’re the second pony who’s ever called me that…” he confessed wistfully as he drew little circles in his soup
“Who was the first?”
Their conversation was interrupted by a loud clatter and shouting from the kitchen. Every pair of eyes in the restaurant looked to the kitchen doors, where a moment later the pianist emerged, stomped angrily to the front doors, and walked into the night in a huff.
“Guess there won’t be any more music,” Octavia sighed sadly.
Spike grinned. He picked up his soup bowl and gulped it quickly before wiping his mouth politely and placing a clean cocktail napkin over his wine glass to indicate that he was coming back.
“Where are you going?” Octavia asked as Spike strode confidently through the kitchen doors and emerged a minute later, the grin on his face having grown a few degrees.
Spike pulled out the piano bench and sat down. He cracked his knuckles loudly, wiggled his claws exaggeratedly, and played the extended version of a piano piece by Chubby Cheetah called Gentle Shores.
***
Octavia laughed with abandon as she leaned heavily on Spike. Her face was flush with alcohol and her tie had been half-undone at some point in the night.
“I can’t believe you knew how to play that song,” she slurred for the tenth time that night.
“I can’t believe you asked me to play it six times,” Spike laughed. He reached behind him to close the door and flick on some lights, removing his support of his drunken friend for less than a second.
In that second Octavia swayed dangerously from side to side. One of her legs buckled a little and she corrected too hard, coming to a crash atop Spike. She giggled in fits as the small dragon tried to squirm out from under her.
“Come on, let’s get you to bed,” Spike sighed once he was back on his feet. He looped his arms under Octavia’s forelimbs and hefted her onto his back, her back hooves dragging across the carpet as he carried her to the dark bedroom.
“Oh, moving fast, aren’t you?” she tittered. “But I’m not complaining.”
Spike almost tripped over his own feet when Octavia nuzzled intimately into his neck.
He cleared his throat and told her, “Yeah, let’s just worry about getting you some sleep, okay?”
He successfully hauled the sloshed mare to the bed and helped her climb in. He got on the bed with her, removed her bowtie, and tucked her in tightly. He sighed as he watched her curl up in a tiny ball under the covers, barely taking up a fifth of the enormous bed.
He turned and started walking to the living room when he felt her shifting on the mattress. A pair of arms wrapped around his chest and pulled him tight.
“Where are you going? Not going to sleep in the bed with me?” she cooed.
“I’m going to go ride the couch tonight,” he informed her.
“Why ride the couch when you could ride me?” she purred.
Spike blushed hard and pried himself free of her grip. He turned to glare at the drunken mare and tell her what he thought of her behavior, but the sight of her face made him lose his nerve.
She’d been all giggles and sexy purring the whole way to the bedroom, but her face showed none of that playfulness. Her eyes were bright with falling tears, her lips pulled in a watery, scared smile.
“Please don’t leave me here by myself… We don’t have to do anything, just please don’t let me sleep here alone…” she begged quietly.
Spike sat with his back to the headboard and held her head in his lap while he stroked her mane.
“Just get some sleep, okay?” he whispered. “I’ll stick with you until you drift off.”
She sniffled wetly and wiped her nose against the comforter.
“You think I’m gross, don’t you?” she asked sadly. “’Get a few glasses into old Octavia and she’ll fall into bed with anypony’.”
“You’re just drunk,” Spike soothed. “It’s not the real you.”
“How do you know?”
Spike shrugged. “I’m a good judge of character.”
“That’s really stupid…”
Spike stroked her mane gently until he heard her breath fall into a steady rhythm. He lifted her head and slid out, tucking her back in and tiptoeing to the edge of the bed. He walked to the living room and closed the door slowly, leaving it open just a crack.
With an exhausted groan he leapt up onto the couch, burying his face into the cushions so he wouldn’t have to get back up to shut off the lights.
***
Spike sat on the balcony with a newspaper and a mug of coffee, the remains of his breakfast on a room service trolley set to the side. The gentle sea breeze rustled his paper, but he wasn’t really reading it. He was thinking about the odd mare that had walked from the bedroom directly into the shower without a word.
That had been an hour ago.
She had seemed… distraught at the prospect of having to sleep alone. Spike knew that alcohol sometimes brought out things that ponies didn’t want to show to others. She had been hiding some sort of pain this whole time, he’d seen intimations of it that first night on the train when they’d been talking about Twilight, and a little of that had seeped to the surface with the help of the drink.
Spike couldn’t help but wonder if maybe her reasons for impulsively leaving Ponyville had been the same as his own.
“G-good morning,” Octavia stuttered as she stepped onto the balcony to join him. Her hair was damp and messy from her shower. The hotel’s white cotton bathrobe was pulled tight around her.
“Mornin’,” Spike smiled and gestured to the seat across from him. “Thought you’d drowned in there. Breakfast is getting cold. I took the liberty of ordering you some oatmeal and scrambled eggs.”
Octavia trotted to her seat and started eating. “It’s good,” she muttered with a wince at the volume of her own voice.
Spike poured her a large glass of water. “Water, too. Lots of water. It’ll help your hangover.”
Octavia nodded. “A… a friend of mine used to drink like that sometimes… she always just had a big greasy plate of hash browns.
“That only helps if you do it before you go out,” he informed her as he poured himself another mug of coffee. “Your blood sugar is low and you’re dehydrated. Just take it slow.”
“I’m already feeling better,” she told him around a mouthful of egg. “You seem to be handling your hangover okay.”
“Because I’m not,” he explained. “Dragon tolerance is legendary. There’s more alcohol in the breast milk that baby dragons suckle on than in a whole cask of whisky.”
Octavia coughed some oatmeal that went down the wrong pipe. “Wait, dragons breast feed? Isn’t that a mammal thing? I thought dragons were reptiles and also you’re messing with me aren’t you?”
“I might be. Or maybe dragons are just weird.” He waved his claws in her face like a stage magician entertaining children. “Maybe you’ll never know, oooooo~”
“Tease…” she said with more amusement than malice. “But you’re really not hungover?”
“I didn’t even get drunk,” Spike admitted.
“That’s kind of amazing…” she commented.
Spike stared out at the ocean while Octavia finished her breakfast.
“Did I… embarrass myself much…?” she asked after a short while.
Spike turned towards her and grinned at her bashful demeanor. She was leaning over her nearly empty oatmeal bowl, hiding her face behind her hair, which was now drying and poofing out in a tangle in the cool salty breeze.
“You were fine,” he lied. “Got you into bed and you fell right asleep… you didn’t even snore.”
She sighed in relief. “I can’t believe I drank that much… I never drink like that…”
“You’re on vacation, don’t worry about it.”
“You’re too nice,” she grinned. “Speaking of… you should have just let me take the couch. This is your room, and I can’t imagine that the sofa was more comfortable than the bed.”
Spike sipped his coffee to hide a smile as bitter as his drink. “A gentledrake would never dream of such a thing, milady.”
“Gentledrake, you say?” she teased. “Well, we can swap out tonight: I’ll take the couch.”
“Ouch,” Spike winced exaggeratedly. “You’re wounding my drakely pride.”
She frowned. “Well you’ll at least have to let me pay for half the cost of the room when I get my refund,” she insisted with a wag of her spoon. “I was planning to tell you about that yesterday, but we got sidetracked.”
Spike raised an eyebrow.
“I mean it,” she insisted. “You may be a gentledrake, but I’m no charity case. I’ve my own pride to consider.”
“Okay, okay,” Spike soothed with his claws held up defensively. “You’re twisting my arm, but I won’t fight you on that if you won’t fight me over the bed thing.”
“Deal,” she answered with a grin.
By the time she’d finished eating Octavia felt better enough to help Spike polish off the coffee. She excused herself to freshen up for the day.
“So did you have any plans?” Spike asked once some time had passed. He raised his voice enough for her to hear him inside the room.
“I was going to go check out the breakwater,” she called back. “What about you?”
“I was thinking about just being lazy at the beach,” he answered.
Octavia stepped back out onto the balcony in a bright yellow sun dress with a green sash holding it in the middle. Her hair was tied back in a long braid. “Well, I’d love some company, if you’re up for it.”
Spike stared until Octavia’s blush let him know he might have been staring a little too long.
“Oh, uh, sure, I’d love to,” he stammered. “You look great, by the way. No bow tie today?”
“I’m on vacation so I’m letting my hair down,” she said, strangely happy that she could get a little rise out of her friend.
Spike lifted a claw and pointed at the back of his own head, where Octavia’s mane had been braided.
“Metaphorically down, anyway,” she said with a roll of her eyes. “I bought a thing for braiding a few years ago but I never used it. I thought this trip would be a good opportunity.”
“One of those weird loopy hook dealies?” Spike asked.
“Well yeah,” she responded. “I can’t exactly braid my mane with just my own hooves. We earth ponies may not have magic or those dexterous little wings, but we do have our ways.”
“True enough,” Spike chuckled. “Let’s go check out what the big deal is about this lagoon.”
***
The concierge had been helpful, for once, and given directions to the small lagoon when they’d described what they were looking for. The main beach in Lunar Bay was a straight shot downhill from the hotel, but to reach the lagoon they had to take a turn off the main road and hike down an unmarked path.
They found the path tucked away behind a shop selling tacky jewelry made from seashells. The path led into the woods, and was meant to take them in a round about way to their destination.
“This is really lovely,” Octavia commented as they walked through the evergreen forest.
Spike took a deep breath and exhaled. The air was a lovely mix of the salty sea air and the sweet musk of tree sap.
“Seriously,” he sighed happily. “I love the smell of pine trees. Totally didn’t think I’d be going for a hike in the woods on my beach vacation.”
He stooped as he walked to pick up a fallen pinecone. “Think if I took one of these back with us it’d grow in the Everfree Forest?”
“I’m sure your sister would love that, considering we’re not even supposed to bring back fruit,” Octavia chuckled. “Bringing a foreign tree species to Ponyville… She’d probably have you sent to the moon as an eco-terrorist.”
“Oh, demigods,” he whispered. “You’re joking but she might actually do that!”
Octavia paused at his reaction. “R-really?”
“Nope,” he smiled as he tossed the pinecone into some bushes. “Well at least not for long.”
Their stroll through the forest didn’t last long. The treeline cleared abruptly as the dirt path veered off into a field of wild flowers that crept right to the edge of a short cliff. The trail ended in some heavily weathered concrete steps leading down to the sand.
Spike peered down the steep incline of the stairs and shook his head. “That’s like a five yard drop. You’d think they’d at least put up some rails so you don’t fall off here.”
“Forget about the stairs,” Octavia said. “Look at the view!”
The cliff overlooked a small cove that curved gently, perfectly, into a half circle, like a giant had pressed a hoof into the earth. A barrier of stones stretched from one end of the mouth to the other, breaking the waves that crashed against them, letting the water seep in gently to form an artificial lagoon.
“Let’s go, Spike!” Octavia cheered as she began descending the stairs.
“Hey, be careful!” Spike warned her as he followed. “I don’t trust these steps.”
Octavia broke into a run as soon as she hit the sand. She ran right to the edge of the water and let the muted waves gently lap at her hooves. She gasped as she realized that little fish of all colors and variety were swimming around the lagoon in schools.
“There are fish in there!” she cried in excitement to Spike, who’d finally managed to catch up to her.
“There must be open channels under the barricade that let smaller fish in and keep big ones out,” Spike surmised. “That’s a pretty good design. Bet this would be a fun place to bring foals if it weren’t for that widowmaker of a staircase. That thing’s probably why there’s nopony else here.”
Octavia smiled brightly and walked from the water’s edge. She pulled her dress off and folded it, weighing it down with a small bag of bits that had been tucked in her sash.
“What are you doing?” Spike asked.
Octavia ignored him and ran into the water, kicking it up in great big splashes as she ran.
“Be careful,” Spike warned her. “There might be something dangerous in there.”
“Oh, please,” she scoffed with a splashy stomp of her hoof. “You’ve been such a wet blanket since we got here. And this is almost literally a big kiddy pool. What, are you afraid of the ocean?”
“Not a chance!” he declared. “Just… there might be dangerous stuff…”
“Like what?” Octavia smirked and looked down at her hooves where some of the little fish had gathered enough courage to investigate the intruder.
“Like… like crabs… and lobsters!”
“You eat diamonds and breathe fire,” she taunted, “and you’re afraid of a little pinch?”
“Not afraid, just cautious!”
Octavia’s eyes widened. “Oh my gosh, you’re not kidding! You took a vacation to the beach with no intention of getting in the water, didn’t you?”
“I like the beach, okay?” he admitted. “Just not the ocean so much…”
Spike looked away pointedly and dug one of his feet into the sand in embarrassment. He looked back when the sound of Octavia’s splashing drew nearer. She stopped a few paces away and grinned mischievously at him.
“Whatever you’re thinking, you stop thinking it right now,” he warned.
She lifted a hoof and skimmed it gently over the water in little kicks in his direction. “What? Am I thinking of something? I don’t think I am.”
“You better not…” Spike narrowed his eyes.
“Better not what?” she asked, kicking the water a little harder.
“You better not splash me. Do you even know how dirty sea water is?”
She held up a hoof and watched the water fall from her coat in a steady stream. “Looks clean to me.”
“Octavia,” he warned.
“Spiiiike~” she sang.
Spike turned to make a break for the stairs but Octavia’s lunge was too fast for him. She wrapped her arms around him and dragged him kicking, screaming, and laughing into the water. She grunted as she spun around and tossed him a few paces into the lagoon.
Spike popped out of the water with a frown. “What if I didn’t know how to swim!?”
“The water’s not even to your waist,” she pointed out. “I bet the deepest part of this lagoon doesn’t even come to your neck.”
“Even still,” he muttered.
“Oh, you loved it,” she laughed. “I know you could’ve gotten out of my grip any time you wanted.”
Spike blushed. He could have gotten away from her if he’d wanted to, but he hadn’t.
They stared at each other for a long, silent moment before Spike slapped the water with a claw, sending a splash of sea water into Octavia’s face. She scowled and slapped water back. They went back and forth, splashing water and gently shoving one another until they both wore themselves out and crawled their way to dry land.
Spike and Octavia sprawled out on the sand, panting heavily but unable to stop giggling. Spike flipped onto his back to bask in the sun’s warmth. As a dragon, he loved the warmth of the sun, and sunbathing had been the thing he’d most been looking forward to on this trip.
Next to him, Octavia had dug her back into the sand, digging a cool little hollow for herself to rest in.
They sunbathed together in silence, enjoying the distant sound of the waves crashing against the breakwater.
“Thank you, Spike,” Octavia muttered nervously.
“Hm?” Spike replied sleepily. The warm sunshine and the cool sand at his back had begun to lull him to sleep. “For what?”
“For just…” she said, struggling for the words. She sat up and piled sand with her hooves nervously. “For being my friend, I suppose… I wasn’t quite sure what I was going to do on this vacation, I wasn’t even sure I’d have fun, but I’ve thoroughly enjoyed sharing this with such a wonderful new friend.”
Spike sighed as he sat up and scratched the back of his neck. “I actually know what you mean. I had no idea what I’d do once I got here. The whole plan had just been getting out of Ponyville.”
“Because of Rarity?”
Spike blinked. “What?”
Octavia was staring out over the water sadly.
“I’m sorry if you didn’t want me to know, but…” She bit her lip nervously. “You were talking in your sleep on the train. You said her name. She’s done work for me, and I’d heard rumors about the two of you… seeing each other… and you’d mentioned wanting to get out of town.”
She turned to him with an apologetic smile. “I kind of put it together,” she murmured half apologetically.
Spike frowned. He hadn’t realized he’d let that much slip, but decided to come clean since it was out in the open.
“We were, and yeah she’s the reason I felt the need to leave town and clear my head,” he admitted. “I’d had a thing for her since like, forever; since I’d moved to Ponyville, actually. I barked up that tree for years. Then about a year ago she gave me a chance.”
Octavia scooted closer to Spike and leaned against him supportively while he told his story.
“Then she just… told me we were done,” he admitted sadly.
Octavia looked into his face and almost sobbed at his expression: it was sadness, but not the wet, naked sadness of fresh pain. Spike’s sadness was already a scar that throbbed when the weather turned bad.
“I saw it coming,” he said as he leaned forward and groaned into his claws. “I’d known she wasn’t happy for months. I loved her so much that it only made me want to try more… But then she just came out and told me that she wasn’t in love with me the way I was with her. And I think maybe she never had been.”
Octavia’s voice caught in her throat but she managed to ask, “Then why would she stay with you so long?”
“I asked her that. She said that she’d been trying to give us a chance, to give me one, but it just never clicked. She cried and she apologized, and she begged forgiveness for leading me on, but it all only led to one thing: she said she loved me, but not ‘that way’.”
“What’d you do…?”
“What could I do?” Spike asked. “I’d already given her everything I could to try to make her feel for me; there was nothing left to try. I loved her too much to try to make me stay with me, so I let her go. I had my shot and I just wasn’t good enough to hold on to her.”
Octavia’s heart broke a little at that admission. “No, Spike, don’t say you weren’t good enough…”
“It’s okay,” he chuckled sadly. “Like I said, I’d seen it coming. Anyway, that was a couple of weeks ago. I kind of locked myself up in the library and just read. My friends came to visit and try to cheer me up, but I told them I was fine. Twilight even came by to check on me, I think Pinkie Pie probably told her, so that was nice.”
“Did Rarity come to see you?”
“No. And I didn’t go to see her either. I didn’t even stop by to tell her that I was leaving town.”
Octavia leaned against Spike a little harder.
“Do you think you’ll still be able to be friends?” she asked nervously, as though she were afraid of the answer.
Spike picked up the tone of her voice and glanced at her out the corner of his eye. “Of course… just not right now. Maybe soon, but I don’t know yet.”
Spike let her digest what he’d said before asking the question on his mind.
“And you? Who broke your heart?” he asked bluntly.
Octavia flinched but collected herself quickly. “I guess I wasn’t the only one putting things together.”
“Yeah, and I figured your reasons for this trip weren’t that different from my own,” Spike explained with a light shove of his shoulder.
“My reason for coming here was a unicorn named Vinyl Scratch…”
Spike raised an eyebrow. “DJ Pon-3? The famous one?”
Octavia chuckled. “Yes. Though she only just recently, as she puts it, ‘blew up’.” She made little quote marks with her hooves around the phrase.
“She went to Mulelliard with me, if you can believe it. She’s a fantastic saxophone player, but honestly she can play most anything. I’ll never know what she sees in her electronic doodads, but most ponies seem to like that music, if her popularity is any indication.”
Spike reapplied some pressure to her shoulder to help steer her back on topic.
“Right, well… when we left the conservatory I got a job with the orchestra right away, which was great, but Vinyl wanted to try her hoof at being a DJ. She struggled in a lot of ways; artistically, yes, and of course financially. I let her room with me, and a lot of the time I was keeping her, so to speak. But she was my best friend and I was glad to help her… And at some point I started to care about her more than that…”
Octavia stopped to wipe some tears from her eyes and Spike put an arm around her silently.
“A few months ago she started booking larger and larger venues. Her popularity grew and she became famous. She started taking longer trips out of town, going further away… I felt like she was leaving me behind.”
“Is that why you were so upset about how Twilight and I drifted apart?” Spike asked.
“Yes, it was a little too alike to my own sad tale: to spend so much of your life and energy supporting somepony only to have them go so far that they seem to have moved beyond you…”
“She wouldn’t have gotten that far without you,” Spike said, hoping that she would believe the words from him.
“Anyway,” she continued, “I was scared of losing her. So about a month ago, I stupidly pressed the issue. She’d come back from a show and I was waiting for her in our living room. I sat her down and I professed my feelings… and I tried to kiss her.”
Her tears fell a little harder, but she was proud of how well she was comporting herself. Retelling this story only a week ago would have left her a sobbing wreck.
“She pushed me away gently, and then broke my heart. She told me that she’d been seeing somepony else, another DJ acquaintance of hers, and had been waiting to see how things went with him before introducing me. And even if she weren’t, she said she valued our friendship too much to gamble it on romance. I knew it was all just a lot of pretty talk for ‘I don’t love you like that’. I was angry, of course; hurt beyond words. But goodness, that didn’t stop me from giving her a few choice ones…
“After that she spent more and more time out of the little house we shared. Things were awkward and more than a little uncomfortable. I knew it was my fault, and I apologized to her. She accepted, but a week later she told me she’d found a place in Manehattan. She was gone within a few days… and I was alone.”
Octavia rested her head on Spike’s as he gave her an extra little squeeze.
“And that’s why I jumped at the chance to leave that empty house. It’s why I was glad to join you on this vacation. It’s why I thanked you for being my friend.”
She lifted her head and looked down at Spike. “Thank you for being lonely with me, Spike.”
Spike stood and wrapped his arms around the mare, who returned the hug with twice as much ferocity. They held each other in silence, glad in that moment to have their friendship to comfort them.
***
The blazing fire place cast a bright orange glow into the room as Octavia played her cello. Spike sat enraptured on the couch, eyes closed, a glass of wine swirling lazily in his grip. They had spent the entire day playing on the beach, building sand castles and chasing the fish around the lagoon. They’d returned to their room as the sun had begun to set, hungry and thoroughly exhausted.
They’d taken turns showering off the bits of the shore that had dried to their bodies, and Spike had ordered room service as a surprise. Once they’d eaten Spike had reminded Octavia of her promise to play a private concert for him. It was only fair, he’d argued, that she should play for him since he had played for her the previous night.
Spike opened his eyes to watch as Octavia displayed her mastery of her instrument. It was mesmerizing, the way her hoof danced across the strings, seemingly effortlessly playing a complex classical piece that would have been difficult even for a clawed species.
Octavia’s bow drew across the strings in one final, mournful note as the piece came to a close. Spike set his drink down and clapped vigorously.
“Brava! Brava!” he cheered.
Octavia bowed deeply, the way she would if she were playing for a capacity crowd in the Canterlot symphony hall. She blew kisses and bowed to an imaginary crowd while Spike jumped on the couch and hooted his praise.
“You’re so good,” Spike complimented the mare as she put her cello back into its case.
“You act surprised,” she laughed. “You said yourself you’ve been to some of the events I’ve played.”
“Well it’s a little hard to pick out one excellent player in an orchestra,” he grinned sheepishly.
“Very true,” she nodded. “And anyway, you’re no musical slouch yourself, mister.”
“I’m just an amateur. Sure I’ve been playing since I was a baby, but it’s just a hobby.”
“You have real talent, though,” she countered as she sat on the couch next to him and took a sip of her own glass. “If you’d dedicated yourself to it I’m certain you could have made a great performer.”
“I cheat.” Spike held up his claws and wiggled them. “These help a lot.”
Octavia reached out and took one of his claws in her hooves. She played with them experimentally, marveling at how they flexed and bent.
“I’ve never envied unicorns or pegasi their fine motor skills,” she muttered, “but I certainly would have loved the chance to try playing with a set of these…”
Spike pulled back his claws reluctantly. “We probably should turn in for the night,” he suggested.
Octavia looked at the clock and noted that it had indeed already passed midnight.
“I guess this is good night, then,” she stated simply. “See you in the morning.”
“G’night.”
She finished her glass in a final gulp and walked to the bedroom to crawl beneath the sheets.
Spike pulled a blanket off the back of the couch and wrapped himself up tightly. The fire was keeping the room warm, but he knew that it would burn out eventually and the room would get chilly.
“Spike?” Octavia called from the bedroom. “Can you come in here for a moment?”
Spike clucked his tongue in minor annoyance at having to leave his cocoon. He made his way to the bedroom door and looked in, the only light source being the fireplace at his back.
“What’s up, Octavia?” he asked. “Need a glass of water?”
Spike watched the shadowy figure of Octavia under the covers shift around as she adjusted her posture to sit up.
“You don’t have to sleep out there you know,” she informed him. “This bed is certainly big enough... and much more comfortable than the couch.”
“I… I dunno, Octavia…” Spike replied. The memory of a lonely, drunken Octavia trying to seduce him came to his mind.
“It’s just two friends sharing a bed, Spike,” she explained softly. “I trust you.”
Spike bit his lip and stared at the large, empty space on the other side of the bed. Octavia certainly took up very little of it. His back throbbed with the mild ache that came from sleeping on couches for a few days in a row, letting him know its position on the matter.
He climbed into the bed wordlessly, his back to the mare, and pulled the covers tight. His discomfort washed away in the soft embrace of the mattress.
“Good night, Spike.”
“Good night, Octavia.”
***
“Spike! Spike! Wake up!”
Spike opened his eyes and found Octavia’s grinning face inches from his own. He backed up in shock, smacking his head against the headboard.
“What is it?” Spike said as he shook the stars from his vision. “It’s way too early to be excited about anything.”
“It’s already almost nine o’clock!” Octavia chided. “Get up, you lazy dragon, and get ready!”
Spike narrowed his eyes but crawled out of bed and drug his feet all the way to the bathroom.
“What am I getting ready for?” he asked over his shoulder.
“It’s our last day here so when I was ordering us breakfast I asked the bellboy if he knew anything fun to do. He told me there was a tram that carries passengers to the boardwalk every Sunday!” she exclaimed happily. She was already digging through her bag for something to wear.
Spike’s groggy mind couldn’t parse what Octavia was so excited about, but it sounded like there might be a reason to her madness, so he just accepted his fate and went to his daily ablutions. Once he was finished, he dried off and walked into the living in time to see Octavia tipping the bellhop that had brought their meal up.
She’d put on an orange dress with white polka-dots, and redone her hair in the braid while he’d been showering.
“So what’s this thing you’re taking me to again?” Spike asked as he pushed their room service cart into the dining area.
“It’s the boardwalk a few miles away,” she explained. “It’s supposed to be like a little beachside carnival or sorts. Now hurry and eat or we’ll be late!”
“A carnival? Think they’ll have rides? I love rides.”
“I’ve never actually been on a carnival ride,” Octavia admitted through a mouthful of toast.
“Really? Not even like a tea cup ride or something?”
“I’ve only ever been to a few carnivals, and it was with Vinyl. She’s always been afraid of the rides; something about getting sick on them. But I’ve always wanted to try them, so this should be fun!”
***
Spike rubbed Octavia’s back gently as she leaned face first into the trash can, emptying her stomach of the breakfast they’d had only an hour before.
“Rides aren’t fun…” she moaned between hurling fits.
Octavia had spotted a large wooden rollercoaster before the tram had even gotten a half way to the boardwalk. Once the stallions pulling the tram along the rails had stopped, Octavia had already jumped out of her seat and began nudging Spike towards the ticket booth.
The ride had started well, with a lot of small, rapid dips and rises to get the blood going; Octavia had loved that. Once they’d reached the largest drop, however, her excitement had turned sour. She lost color with every inch the car climbed into the sky, and when the drop came Spike had had to cover his ears to drown out the piercing whistle of her screams.
She may have been a cellist, but she definitely had a singer’s pipes.
“I’m sorry I got sick,” she sniffled sadly into the trash can, her voice bouncing around the inside of the can and coming out in a robotic reverb. “You can keep going on rides if you want.”
“It’s not going to be fun riding them unless you’re with me,” Spike explained. “There’s lots of other stuff to do, though.”
She dropped back to the ground and wiped her mouth with the back of her hoof. Spike grimaced and pulled a kerchief out of his satchel for her to use.
“Really? You’re sure?”
“Of course I’m sure,” he answered with his biggest smile. “Anything’s fine as long as we get to do it together.”
Spike led the way through the crowded boardwalk. It really was very much like a carnival of sorts. There were rides, a haunted house, performers, games of skill and chance, and junk food vendors every few yards.
They sampled a bit of everything, except the rides, at least once. The haunted house had spooked Octavia so badly that by the end of it Spike had to carry her out in his arms. Her fear had made curl into a rigid little ball, which made her much easier to carry than in her limp drunken state, and Spike was very strong for his size.
While Octavia shook off the last of her terror, Spike had gone to a street vendor and ordered some food to refill her empty stomach. He came back with a carrot dog for her and something similarly shaped in a bun for himself.
“What’s that?” she asked as she took a bite of her lunch.
“It’s a fish dog,” Spike explained. He bit open a packet of tartar sauce and spread it over the tube of grilled fish.
“Oh, you eat fish?” she asked in surprise.
“Yeah, fish is good sometimes,” he explained. “A lot of ponies can’t digest it, so it’s harder to get inland. But in coastal areas like this you can get it pretty much anywhere. I figured I might as well have some before I leave.”
“Don’t dragons usually eat… meat?” she said in a harsh whisper.
“I’m hardly a normal dragon,” Spike scoffed with a mouthful of fish. “Aside from gems, I won’t eat anything a pony won’t. I wasn’t raised that way.”
Octavia chewed thoughtfully before further breaching what she felt might be a sensitive topic.
“Do you ever… wonder what it’s like? Meat, I mean.”
“I do sometimes,” he answered. “But I mean… I don’t hoard, so why should I give in to any of my other dragony impulses? I like to think I’m evolved enough that if I make a decision about something like that I can stick to it.”
“That’s admirable.”
“It’s not anything so special,” he countered. He finished the last of his meal and rubbed his stomach. “Still hungry… want some popcorn?”
Octavia licked her lips as the final bite of her carrotdog went down.
“Yes,” she stated simply. “Yes, I very much want popcorn.”
They walked down the boardwalk, searching for a popcorn vendor, when Octavia squealed gleefully and bolted for a bank of stands. Spike wound his way through the crowd to find her standing in front of a game booth with a number of very familiar looking plushies.
“Oh no no no no,” Spike told the smiling mare with a shake of his head. “We can play something else.”
“No, this!” she whined. She pointed at one doll in particular and bounced on her hooftips in barely restrained giddiness. “I want that one!”
Spike sighed in defeat.
A few years prior some toy manufacturer had decided to make the dolls to commemorate Equestria’s heroes; this, of course, included the Elements of Harmony and their pal Spike. Spike had been along on enough of their adventures and been in enough newspapers with them that he had earned a bit of hard won notoriety himself, securing the distinction of his own line of foal’s toys.
While he loved the idea of action figures of himself, and in fact owned a few, he wasn’t a fan of some of the cheap knock offs that you found in this sort of venue. And boy, was this a line of cheap knock offs: officially licensed Spike toys would never have a bright orange belly and green spots all over the back.
The doll Octavia wanted was the one of a miscolored Spike dressed as a knight with a plush sword and shield.
The game looked simple enough: there were little plastic lily pads in the center of a pool of water. Adjustable seesaws lined the counter with small mallets chained to each one. The object seemed to be to use the mallet and seesaw to flip a weighted rubber froggy into the lily pads, with certain ones being worth more points than others because of elevation, distance, or proximity to other pads.
He reached into his satchel with a grumble and slapped some bits on the counter.
***
It had already been dark out when the tram last had pulled back into town. Neither of them had been hungry, full as they were of junk food and snacks from the vendors at the boardwalk. Spike’s satchel had been full to bursting with souvenirs and prizes that Octavia had wanted.
In return for the presents, Spike had convinced her to try riding a Ferris wheel. She’d been reluctant, but had enjoyed the slow pace of it; she’d even asked to ride it twice more.
The two friends sat crammed together into a heavily padded deck chair on the balcony of their room, watching the reflection of the moon dance ethereally on the shifting waves.
“This place is really beautiful,” Spike muttered. “I’m glad I came here.”
“Me too,” Octavia nodded. She leaned into Spike and took one of his claws in her hooves the way she had the previous night. “I know I said it yesterday, but thanks for sharing this with me. I know I wouldn’t have had any fun on my own here.”
“I’m sure you would’ve found something to do,” Spike answered as he returned the pressure of her body against his with a little more of his own weight. He allowed her to manipulate his claws to satisfy whatever intimate curiosity she seemed to be holding.
“But it wouldn’t have been fun, it would have just been something to do,” she sighed.
Spike closed his grip on one of her hooves and turned to face her.
“Octavia…” he whispered. “I’ve… been wanting to say for a bit that… um… I think you’re really beautiful.”
“I think you’re very handsome,” she complimented with a gentle smile.
“It’s more than that, though,” he continued. “You’re so complicated. Like… you project this air of sophistication and grace, but you talk with your mouth full and you snore like a bear when you drink too much.”
Octavia’s face flushed almost luminescent.
“You said I didn’t snore!” she gasped.
Spike shrugged with a grin. “Eh, it was cute.”
“Oh, so you were only nice to me this weekend because I was cute?” she asked hotly.
“What!? No! I would’ve done it for anypony that needed somepony to talk to and also you’re messing with me!”
Octavia grinned, satisfied that she’d had her small revenge.
“I know you would have,” she giggled. “That’s what I find so… cute… about you. You know I was a little nervous of meeting you. I mean, a dragon living in Ponyville? That’s another part of the reason I never went to the library.”
“I’ve lived there for a long time, with only really that one slip up, and nopony got hurt in that.” Spike frowned at the memory of his little rampage through town a few years ago. They’d explained it to everypony and taken care of the damages, so nopony had held it against him. “Why would you be nervous of me?”
“It’s silly, I know,” she blushed. “But I was.”
“What changed your mind then?”
“You’ll be mad if I tell you,” she muttered.
“No I won’t, I promise,” he assured her.
“…it was when I walked in on you posing in front of your reflection on the train…”
“Okay, I’m not one to break promises, but I am a little mad,” he said playfully.
She gave him another little bump with her shoulder. “Shut up. But really, you were just so silly, how could I not want to meet such an oddball? You’re a great big ball of contradictions, and that’s what I like about you. Also, you’re smart. Let me tell you, intellect is very attractive.”
She leaned forward and gave him a light peck on the forehead without thinking.
Time stopped.
The mare and dragon stared at each other breathlessly, the world falling away, the distant swishing of the tides fading to nothing. They leaned into each other and pressed their lips together.
Spike’s heart felt like it would seize in his chest. His body came alive with an electric tingle at every point where it met hers. Her soft coat brushed against his scales as they both shifted positions to gain better access to the other’s mouth. Spike felt warmth gathering in his stomach, like the kind that he felt when he summoned fire.
Octavia pulled back to catch her breath. “This is a little crazy,” she gasped.
“Who cares?” he panted. “We’re on vacation, we can be a little crazy.”
He leaned back in to reconnect their lips when he felt her hoof press his shoulder and push back gently.
“What’s wrong?” he asked as she stood and walked to the edge of the balcony.
“We’re on vacation…” she whispered. She turned back to him with wide eyes. “We’ve been saying that a lot this weekend. Is that what this is? A vacation fling?”
Spike stood quickly and went to her side. “Of course not. We might have been more willing to take risks because we were on a trip, but that doesn’t change how we feel about each other. And it doesn’t have to stop. We’re going home on the same train, to the same town. You live down the street from me. It’s not like we’re going to opposite ends of Equestria.”
“But is it real?” she asked desperately. “We came here to escape our relationship problems back home, and they’re waiting for us when we get there. Was this just part of that escape?”
“I can’t believe it was,” he stated simply. “This feels right, and I don’t want it to stop.”
She shook her head sadly.
“We’re both on the rebound,” she muttered. “We won’t know how real this is until we’ve let our heads clear a bit… I think we need some time. Time to figure out…” she pressed a hoof to her chest and the other to his, “…what this is.”
Spike looked down at the hoof pressed to his chest and bit the inside of his cheek painfully in a vain attempt to hold in his frustration.
“Okay,” he answered finally, gently removing her touch from his chest. “If you need time I’ll give it to you, and I’ll think about it on my own as well, if that’s what you want.”
“I do,” she responded sadly. “It’s for the best.”
Spike turned and strode into the room briskly.
“Where are you going?” she asked with a slight panic in her voice.
“Going for a walk to think about stuff,” he answered calmly over his shoulder. “Don’t wait up, not sure how late I’ll be.”
He grabbed his satchel, emptied the contents of everything but his room key, and closed the door softly on his way out.
Octavia fell against the balcony rail as her emotions finally caught up to her.
***
Spike awoke to the sound of the alarm clock ringing angrily. He rolled off the couch and found the clock sitting on the table a few paces away. He hadn’t remembered setting that there.
The night before he’d gone out for a walk like he’d told Octavia, but he’d been out for hours just wandering the beach. By the time he’d returned Octavia was in bed; the blankets on his side had been pulled back welcomingly. He was entirely uncomfortable with the idea of sleeping in the bed with her now, and headed for the couch, only to find that Octavia had anticipated this and left a pillow atop a neatly folded blanket.
She’d apparently left the decision up to him.
Spike shut off the alarm and walked to the bedroom to check on Octavia. The bed was unmade and empty, and her bags, along with her cello, were gone. She’d left before he’d awoken and set an alarm so he wouldn’t miss their train.
He sighed and gathered his things, double checking to make sure he and Octavia had left nothing behind. He stuffed a few of the tiny soaps into his bag before heading downstairs to check out.
“Your companion already checked you out this morning, sir,” the concierge informed him. “She also left instructions to give this to you.”
The stallion bent beneath the counter and pulled up a sack of bits. Spike accepted the bag wordlessly and left for the train station.
The rail line’s policy was that any train that traveled for longer than a day would arrive at least a half hour early to allow passengers to get settled in. Spike had dragged his feet the whole way there, however, and arrived just as the final boarding was being called.
Aboard the train he made his way to first class. He stared at the door of the cabin that he’d shared with Octavia the trip over. He tried the handle but found it locked.
He swallowed the lump in his throat and knocked.
“Octavia? Are you in there?” he asked. “Can I come in and talk?”
There was no answer.
Spike stood in front of that door, certain that somepony was inside but not answering him. If it were a stranger, they would have just told him he’d had the wrong cabin and asked him to leave, so it was most likely that Octavia was in there and just ignoring him.
With a sigh he walked to the next cabin over and knocked before trying the door. It opened with a soft hiss to an empty room. He threw his duffel in the corner and sat heavily on the couch. A moment later a gentle knock came and he opened the door so the conductor could stamp his ticket.
Spike closed his door but didn’t return to his seat. He strained his hearing and listened for the gentle knock of the conductor checking the next cabin. He knocked twice, announced himself, and was allowed entry with the soft hiss of an opening door.
***
“It’s five in the buckin’ morning!” Vinyl shouted angrily as she opened the door. “What the hay do you want!?”
Her anger ran cold as she took in the sight of the mare on her door step.
“Tavi,” she breathed. “Oh gosh, sorry, I didn’t… I wasn’t expecting you, is everything okay?”
Octavia smiled sadly and adjusted her grip on her cello case.
“Yes, things are fine…” she answered carefully. “Are things… fine with you?”
“Yeah, pretty great I guess,” Vinyl said with a scratch at her neck. “What’re you doing here? I haven’t seen you in a while.”
“Can I come in and talk?” Octavia asked hopefully.
Vinyl nodded and relieved the other mare of the burden of her cello with her magic. Octavia shrugged her saddle bags off and set them down next to her cello by the door.
“So did you want something to drink? Maybe some of that gross tea you like? I have a whole bunch of it,” Vinyl explained nervously. She was already rushing to the kitchen but Octavia stopped her with a cough.
“No, thank you, Vinyl, I won’t take much of your time,” she explained. “How is, um, your coltfriend, Neo Lights?”
“Neon Lights,” Vinyl corrected. “We… broke up already… decided to stay friends.”
“Sorry to hear that.”
Octavia looked around the beautiful penthouse Vinyl now occupied. The silly mare had only lived in the penthouse for a month and it already had piles of discarded clothing, half eaten takeout containers, and empty soda cans everywhere.
“Sorry about the mess,” Vinyl apologized. She began shoving the various piles out of the way, behind the furniture and into closets. “I guess I’m still not used to picking up after myself…”
“Vinyl…”
“I mean I know you used to always get on my case about keeping clean, and I was like, ‘oh so what if it’s a little messy, I’m sure I’ll clean it before it gets too bad’, but look at this, I guess I sure showed me.”
“Vinyl…”
“I mean even I’m a little ashamed of how this place looks, I can’t imagine what it must look like to a neat freak like you.”
“Vinyl Scratch!” Octavia shouted with a stomp of her hoof.
Vinyl flinched and stopped her nervous cleaning.
“Just, please, let me say what I came here for,” Octavia begged as she stepped closer to the other mare.
Vinyl swallowed hard and nodded. She shoved some old t-shirts off the sofa and took a seat, nodding to the other end as an invitation to her friend.
“I wanted to tell you how sorry I was that I got angry at you,” Octavia said. “I had no right to expect you to reciprocate my feelings, your heart is your own, and I was foolish to let those feelings come between us.”
“I already forgave you for that,” Vinyl said.
“Did you?” Octavia asked. “You left, Vinyl. If you forgave me then why did you leave?”
“Because you were so sad,” Vinyl explained. “What was I supposed to do? Keep living there knowing I hurt you like that? It would’ve been so much easier to just tell you I felt the same way, because telling you the truth… it hurt me to have hurt you like that. But it would’ve been so much worse to lie to you.”
Octavia called to mind the story that Spike had told her of his romance with Rarity. Had Rarity faced the same decision and taken the opposite route?
“Don’t you see that what I’d been most afraid of was you leaving?” Octavia asked. “It’s why I held my tongue for years. It was why I was afraid to take the chance that you might say no.”
“I’m sorry, Tavi,” Vinyl croaked weakly. “I just couldn’t stay and see that look in your eyes, the one that said ‘you’re the mare that hurt me’…”
Octavia took a deep breath.
“No, I’m the one that’s sorry; this isn’t what I came here for,” Octavia explained. “I came here to tell you that my reaction to your rejection was immature, and I’m ashamed of how it played out. And I just wanted to tell you that no matter what happens from this point on, I will always be your friend, and I will always be here for you if you need me, so please, please don’t feel like you need to hide yourself from me.”
Octavia stood and began walking towards the door.
“If you ever need to talk to me, even if it’s five in the buckin’ morning,” Octavia explained with a sad grin, “I’ll always open the door.”
“Wait, Tavi don’t go!” Vinyl pleaded. “I… I miss my best friend… can’t you at least stay for the day?”
“Vinyl Scratch, are you trying to trick me into cleaning your house?” Octavia teased.
“What!? No!” Vinyl sputtered. “Look, I just… I want things to be okay… just stay for a day, maybe two?”
Octavia smiled. “Okay.”
“Great! I have a room made up for you and everything! Only clean room in the house, I promise! And I have your favorite tea and those weird soaps you like,” Vinyl gushed excitedly.
“You already had a room ready?”
“Well you always had one for me in your house, it just, um, seemed like bad luck to not have one for you in mine…” Vinyl explained with a blush.
Octavia trotted up and nuzzled her friend affectionately. “There will always be a room for you in my house as well,” she explained. “Yours is still the way you left it, in fact: full of garbage.”
Vinyl laughed and nuzzled back with tears in her eyes. She sniffled loudly and pointed to the bags next to the door.
“What’s with those?”
“I just got back from vacation,” she explained. “The train stopped in Ponyville but I paid to keep riding it all the way here. I wanted to talk about this with you.”
“Awesome, where’d you go?”
“Lunar Bay.”
“That place where that guy wrote that song you like?”
Octavia nodded. “The same.”
“Nice, did you have fun?”
“Well…” Octavia hummed and considered talking to Vinyl about Spike. “Why don’t we talk about that later? I want to hear all about the exciting life of the sensational DJ Pon-3.”
***
The little bell above Rarity’s front door chimed musically as a customer entered. She put on her best smile, because smiles made sales, and turned from the display case she was arranging to greet her guest.
“Welcome, come right this way, friend, and tell Rarity how she can help you today.”
“Hey, Rarity,” Spike said with a wave from the doorway. “Mind if I come in?”
Rarity’s heart stopped. “N-no, not at all, please, you’re always welcomed here, Spike.” She was careful to call him by his given name, with none of the multitude of endearing permutations of it that it had become reflex to use.
Spike strode across the room and went directly to the display she had been setting up.
“Your new design is fabulous,” he commented. “I’m sure it’ll make a big splash. I take it sequins are in again.”
“Sequins are never out, Spike,” she clucked. “But… did you really come here to talk about clothes…? It’s been… a while.”
“Yeah, it has,” he answered mysteriously.
“So… how was your vacation?” she asked, trying not to sound upset that she’d had to hear about his trip secondhoof.
“It was amazing,” he said. “I think I found a bit of the peace that I was looking for.”
Rarity blinked. She had not expected an answer like that. “That’s wonderful.”
“There is one thing, though.” Spike turned to her and looked straight into her eyes. “I need to ask you a question, and I need the most honest answer you can give me.”
Rarity shrunk under the intensity of his gaze. Her own pain over their break up still ached in her chest, and she feared where his question might lead. But she knew that if he needed her to answer something for him truthfully, she would do it. She owed it to him.
“Without question,” she replied with a resolute nod. She set her jaw and braced herself.
“I need you to tell me what it was like when we kissed.”
Rarity reeled back as though she’d been struck. She’d had no idea what he would ask, but she hadn’t anticipated something so intimate.
“Please,” he added. “It’s important.”
“W-well you were there, you know what it was like.”
Spike shook his head. “No, I need you to tell me what it was like for you. Describe it to me.”
“Oh, Spike, you know I’m no good with poetry, how can I describe such a thing?”
“I don’t need poetry, just the truth,” he urged.
“It was… nice… you were a very good kisser. It always felt… good, I suppose. I did very much enjoy the feel of your surprisingly soft lips, and the roughness of your tongue was quite exciting.”
Spike sighed tiredly.
“When I breathe fire,” he explained slowly, “I can feel it in my stomach. It’s this warmth that spreads all over my body and flows out of me, and even after the flames die, I feel a tingle on my lips where the magic, my dragon fire magic, left me.
“You know what I’m talking about, right?” he asked. “Twilight told me that it was the same way she felt when she used her unicorn magic. You know what magic feels like. Were our kisses ever magic for you?”
“I do indeed know that feeling you’re describing,” she answered, breaking eye contact in embarrassment and shame. “I’m sorry to say that no, it never felt like that when we kissed.”
“That’s all I needed to hear.”
He turned back to the dress and ran his claws along the hem, admiring the expert craftsmanship of Rarity’s sewing technique.
“Spike what is this all about?” she asked anxiously. “You’re being very mysterious. Did something happen?”
“I think so, I’m not sure yet… but I promise, as soon as I know for certain, you’ll be the first pony I tell.”
He released the dress and made to exit. As he reached for the handle he paused and turned to address Rarity again.
“I ran into Applejack on the way over here,” he explained. “She said she got some corn in a trade a few days ago and asked me if I wanted to help her grill it. We were going to invite the rest of our friends. I hope I’ll see you there.”
“Spikey,” she breathed. “Does this mean… are we okay…?”
“You’re my best friend, Rarity, of course we are.” He grinned at her sigh of relief. “But… maybe give it a little more time before we go back to Spikey-wikey?”
***
Spike kicked the brake on the ladder that slide along the library walls and climbed to shelve a large paperback romance. The romance section of the library seemed to be growing more by the week. All the kids in town were really into a new series about sexy Frankenhoof monsters, and he could hardly keep them on the shelf with all the reservations.
As a result he’d expanded the popular section to increase readership for a few less popular titles of the same genre, hoping to broaden the horizons of Ponyville’s youth to something other than kissy-faced zombies.
It had been nearly two weeks since Spike had returned from his trip. His friends had grilled him non-stop about the details of it, and he’d done his best to answer them without mentioning Octavia. Despite his efforts, they all seemed to realize he’d been holding something back. Rainbow Dash had been especially aggressive in her questioning.
Luckily Rarity had come to his rescue every time, letting their friends know that he’d tell them whatever he was hiding once he was ready. She always turned and gave him a wry little wink when she did so.
The bell on the front desk rang twice.
Spike gripped the sides of the ladder and slid down with the ease of years of practice.
“Welcome to the library, what can I help you find?”
Octavia stood at the counter smiling coyly. “I was hoping you had something in a How-To manual.”
Spike snapped his jaw shut and grinned. “Depends on what you’re trying to learn ‘How-To’.”
“How to date a dragon?” she asked.
Spike rubbed his chin in consideration.
“Afraid we don’t have anything like that. Is there anything else?”
“Well, how about a romance?”
“Got a title?”
“How To Date a Dragon?” she asked hopefully.
“Oh, well that we do have!” he answered with enthusiasm as he kicked the brake and started rolling the ladder.
“Wait, really?” she gaped.
Spike let go of the ladder and let it slide until it ran out of steam. “No, not really.”
Octavia chuckled. “You’re such a tease, Spike.”
“You love it,” he told her smugly.
“I really do.”
His face went hot at that admission. “So did… you have time to think…?”
“I did. And I worked things out with Vinyl,” she informed him. “And you? Did you think about… me?”
“I haven’t stopped thinking about you since that first night on the train,” Spike answered truthfully. “I’ve just been waiting for you to catch up.”
“Yes, yes, you’re very clever,” Octavia rolled her eyes. “You’re so wise in the ways of love.”
He strode towards her confidently and held her face with his claws. “Not wise, just confident.”
He leaned in and kissed her hard. She leaned into the kiss as well, moaning happily into his mouth. They broke apart after a moment held each other.
“That felt like magic,” Octavia whispered.
“Yeah, it did…”
A loud banging on the windows drew their attention to a gasping Rainbow Dash.
“I knew it!” she shouted triumphantly. “I knew there was something going on!”
She leapt out of the bushes and flew away in a trail of rainbows.
“Great, now everypony’s going to know…”
“If they get too nosey we could always go on a nice trip.” Octavia grinned wolfishly and leaned in for another kiss.