Immature

Cover Art Vectors By:

AdvanceFiction

Hombre0

blackgryph0n

Written by The Descendant

Editors:

Argon Matrix

Kalash93

Chapter 1: The Scent of a Mare

“Shoot,” Twilight whispered, lifting her head once again. She drew more of the sweet scent of the mare’s perfume, of the intoxicating scent that drifted around her.

“Shoot,” Twilight muttered, making sure not to let the word float too far out of the bedroom. As she swam in the aroma, she looked to the bed where the beautiful mare had lain. She let the bucket of soapy water lower to the ground outside the door, putting aside her purpose for entering the room… and instead she simply stared at the bed.

Twilight thought of the mare’s eyes fluttering open in the morning, greeting her as she woke the pony. Twilight thought of the gentle curves of the mare’s body as she stretched and rolled side-to-side upon the bed, making little cooing sounds as she awoke.

“Shoot,” Twilight repeated quietly. She thought of the mare leaving the bed, her stunning silhouette standing out amid the rays of morning sunlight that came streaming in through the bedroom window.

Twilight looked at the abandoned dresser. A few days prior, it had been covered with a line of neatly arranged combs and brushes, perfumes and powders.

Twilight’s memories sang with the image of the mare that had stood in the cascade of sunlight, humming a little tune. The brushes had run through her mane, pulling out even the slightest imperfection until the curls once more bounced in their prescribed places.

“Shoot,” Twilight whispered again, letting the lingering scent of the mare catch in her nostrils, letting it excite her senses.

The guest bedroom stood empty now, but each of these memories of awakening their guests sat upon her heavily. After waking the older mare, after watching the lady prance and hum and sing in her boudoir, Twilight had been filled with an unfamiliar emotion, one that only grew when they had shared the space.

One morning, as the delicate perfumes had lifted around the room, a realization had struck her.

It had frightened her, made her jump in place. She had tried her best to hide her reaction, to keep it in check as she had watched the older mare wake the filly.

How tender she had been with her little sister. How happily she had woken the child with a kiss. That had stuck with Twilight. She had felt the slightest pang of jealousy as she had watched the mare guide the brushes over her sister’s mane with long, delicate strokes, carefully lifting away any tangles.

Twilight’s mind had betrayed her. It had made her think of how nice it would feel to be awakened by the kiss of the mare each morning, to have the mare gently draw her brushes across her mane, her tail, her…

Twilight had left the room, a bright blush across her face.

Now, a week after their departure, Twilight stood in the room once more. She drew deep breaths, trying to capture whatever traces of Rarity’s perfume still remained.

"Shoot,” she said aloud. “Shoot, shoot, shoot, shoot, shoot!”

Twilight gave an exasperated sigh. Her head sank down until it rested against her chest.

“Shoot,” she repeated one last time, watching as the white bar of soap floated around in the bucket. “I’m in love.”

A month ago, Carousel Boutique had fallen victim to a fire.

It had been large enough to send a pall of black, acidic smoke across Ponyville, causing no small amount of panic in everypony who saw it. At once their friends had gathered Sweetie Belle and Rarity into embraces, holding the pair and assuring them that all would be all right.

At that moment the fireponies had thrown the charred remains of Rarity’s anxiety sofa out of a second story window and into the street. It had promptly shattered into kindling and velvet scraps. Spike had caught her as she’d swooned and fainted away.

Happily, the damage was not as bad as it could have been.

Yes, the carpet and drapes all had to be replaced, but the insurance covered that. Yes, Rarity had lost a fair number of her creations to the flames, but only old stock. Yes, Sweetie Belle had learned that she would not earn a cutie mark for discovering new bathroom cleansers, but her eyebrows had grown back beautifully.

Twilight and Spike had offered their small home to the two forlorn ponies.

Much to Spike’s delight, Rarity had agreed.

Sweetie Belle, who had been assigned to live with Rarity during her parent’s annual re-enactment of their honeymoon, had been less than thrilled about spending the time living in a library.

Although Twilight had insisted on spending some quality learning time with her newest tenant, the atmosphere around the library had become far more… open, almost liberated, than before. She had taken awhile to realize it, but having Rarity there, and Sweetie Belle, made everything more… alive.

The days had not passed without incident, of course.

More than one pony that had come to the library in the pursuit of knowledge had found themselves assailed by the seamstress. Most who had come in search of information had left with new coats, dresses, and entire wardrobes.

On the other hoof, fashionable ponies that had come in search of the exiled fashionista had accidentally left wearing new ensembles constructed from expired magazines, discarded books, and mixed periodicals. The designs had been quite the fad among the more literate hipsters of Canterlot during that fashion/reading season.

The summer that Rarity and Sweetie Belle had spent living in the library… it had been a happy time.

And, when Twilight thought back on it, she saw all of the little things that had added up to her realization.

It had felt good, listening to Rarity hum her little tunes. The sound of the unicorn’s voice had become a melody that Twilight had floated in, literally pausing whatever she had been doing at the time to listen as Rarity said trivial things. Just to listen…

It had felt good, watching Rarity carry herself with her elegance and grace. Twilight had found herself pausing to admire Rarity’s body more and more, taking in the sight of her friend.

It had felt good, the little physical contacts that she had made with Rarity. Twilight had found herself letting Spike go play with Sweetie Belle instead of washing the dishes, just so that she could brush beside her as she’d placed dishes in the cupboard. She had leaned ever so gently against the mare as they’d sat on the rug, watching the children play. Twilight’s breath had escaped her when Rarity had given her a little nuzzle, congratulating her on some small discovery.

Rarity’s touch, her scent, her voice… these had begun falling through Twilight in ways that she’d never imagined that they could, that she had never thought that a mare could bring from her.

Those feelings rolled around inside of her in ways that she fought to gain control of, place somewhere where she could rationally examine them. She had felt crushes before, but this was no crush. This was love, and there is nothing more irrational in the world…

…and it scared her.

It scared her because the world was an unpredictable place. It scared her because it had unraveled in front of her, draping uncertainty and confusion around her.

What will my family think? she had asked herself. What will Princess Celestia, the girls…

…most importantly, Spike.

Twilight forced herself out of her reflection. The memory of what she had done to Spike, what she had done to the little boy who loved her, lashed at her with guilt, fighting with the euphoric feelings for a place in her conscious thoughts.

It was in the pursuit of those happy feelings, to discover what they meant, that she had wounded Spike.

And now she prepared to damage him again.

“Shoot,” she said one last time, and then left the guest bedroom behind. The memories of Rarity’s time there followed her, clinging to her as she made her way back out into the library.

“Spike?” she asked the room at large. “Spiiiike!”

“Yeah?” he said, appearing around the corner, only just leaping in time to avoid stepping in the bucket of soapy water. The colorful apron that Rarity had made for him a year ago was wrapped tight around him, and a duster sat in his hand. “What’s up, Twi?”

Twilight’s eyes fell across the apron. She imagined Rarity carefully sewing it together, humming happily as it took shape. She remembered Rarity presenting it to Spike, and the great, warm hug that he had given her in thanks. The thought of it made an emotion rise up, one that…

No, she had already hurt Spike that way before. She would not do that to him again.

No, she thought to herself, you’re going to hurt him in an entirely different way, aren’t you?

The thought knocked her out of her contemplation. She looked down to see Spike still standing before her, looking up to her with an arched eyebrow.

“Hello, Twilight? Anybody home?” he said, putting one of his hands on his hips. The rubber glove squeaked a little as it slid across his scales. His other hand lifted the duster, and he tickled her beneath the chin.

Twilight gave a little giggle. “Sorry, Spike,” she chuckled, “I got lost in thought for a second.”

“Whattcha thinkin’ about, Twi?” he inquired, leaning forward on the duster as though it were a cane.

The graceful, elegant curves of Rarity’s body shot through Twilight’s mind. The unicorn’s light, lilting tones and the flash of her eyes lingered in her perception.

“Ummm, something,” Twilight said, her eyes shifting back and forth. “Sooo, what are you doing?”

“Heh,” he answered, “the chores… like you told me to. Like you tell me to every day, Twi.”

“Oh. Oh! Oh, yeah,” she said, realizing that it was a rather stupid question. She chuckled a nervous chuckle before turning back to her little dragon. “Well, how about you take a break, okay? Or, well, how about you just take the rest of the day­–”

“Done!” Spike called, tossing the apron and rubber gloves across the room and into a laundry bin. “Three points!”

“–off,” she concluded.

Spike smiled, and a certain subtle happiness seemed to settle over him. Just a simple thing like that had been enough to bring her great little guy some contentment. Such a simple thing had made some joy bubble through him.

Twilight tried to reply to his big, toothy smile. Although she tried, all that she could force onto her face was a sort of subdued, subtle grin.

You’re going to hurt him, she told herself. Again. You monster.

“So, Spike, is there anything you’d like to do today?” she asked, fighting to keep the grin plastered to her face.

“Huh, well, actually I was kinda thinking about…”

“Play a game! That’s a great idea!” Twilight answered, placing her hoof over his mouth. The whelp stared back at her with more than a little surprise, but eventually his demeanor settled into one of resolute acceptance.

Yes, Spike, she thought, we’re going to play a game. It’s not going to be easy for you, and I’m sorry. I’m very sorry for this, and for what I did to you before. You didn’t deserve that, and I’ll try to find some way to make it up to you, I swear. But, Spike, right now, we’re going to play a game. Here are the rules…

Twilight looked back at Spike. Her hoof was still pressed over his mouth, silencing him as she prepared herself for the next part. He was actually leaning forward against her hoof… looking quite bored, truth be told.

Here are the rules, Spike, she thought. This doesn’t end until I’ve told you everything. This doesn’t end until anything you feel is laid on the table. And, Spike, no matter what happens next, I promise that I won’t call you immature…

Immature. Her face wrinkled. That was the word of the day… the word to avoid.

The last time, she had used that word as a weapon. Now, she disarmed herself.

He was a boy, just a few years into his double digits. How should he react to what she was about to do? If he wailed, if he screamed, if he started to cry, well… who’s to say that wasn’t the normal, healthy way for a child his age to deal with the pain she was about to cause him?

Twilight startled herself.

Please don’t wail, Spike, she thought. Please don’t scream, please don’t cry…

Twilight’s eyes came back open. An unusual sensation was going down her foreleg, starting at her hoof. Spike still sat with her hoof across his mouth, eyeing her, and only then did she realize what he was doing.

“Blegh! Spike, did you just lick my hoof?!” she said, lifting it from his face and wiping it across the thick, braided rug.

“Oh, c’mon!” he replied. “My lips were falling asleep! Anywho, what kind of game–”

Twilight’s hoof returned to his mouth, silencing the little drake once more. She pressed against him gently just enough to let him know that she had something worth listening to.

“Spike,” she began.

“Mmmumph?” he answered from behind her hoof.

“Spike… I know something you don’t know!” she said in a singsong rhythm, one that sat around the room happily. Yet, a noticeable taste of melancholy was wrapped in the tones.

Spike’s eyebrow arched again, and as Twilight lifted her hoof from his lips once again, his look of puzzlement remained.

“Spike,” she said, braving the words, “I… I have feelings for somepony. Guess who.”

Spike stood there blinking at her for a few moments. Eventually, his arms folded across his chest and he gave a little smirk.

“Yeah, cute, Twi,” he said. “Not much of a game. You’ve only been having me send letters to Brash Entry since we got back from that ape-world place on the other side of the portal…”

Twilight rolled her eyes. “Spike,” she said, “you know that’s not his name.”

“Who, Cash Empty?” he said, smirking wider. “Mash Gentry?”

She swung her head back and forth, disapproving of his little game even as she tried to hide her smile. It was a game that he’d been playing ever since he’d smiled up at her after they had come back through the portal, ever since he had seen her blushing in the presence of a young Crystal Guard stallion.

“So, you finally gonna confess to Gash Supplementary?” he said, more than a little sadness hanging in his voice, surprising her with the ring of remorse that went through his tone.

Despite wondering where it arose from, it wasn’t enough to excuse his poor phonemic choices.

“‘Gash Supplementary’, Spike? That’s a new one… not your best, either,” she said, looking at him dubiously.

“Hey, there are only so many words that rhyme with ‘sentry’, Twi,” he said, shrugging his shoulders. “So,” he continued, a sigh present in his tones, “you want me to start writing the letter?”

“No,” she said with a chuckle. “No I don’t. You guessed wrong, Spike. Go ahead, try again!”

“No, wait, really?” he said, surprise spilling out of him, pooling at his feet. “You’ve… you’ve been all googly-eyed at his name ever since we got back, how can… You stood by the freakin’ mail box three days in a row waiting…”

Spike lifted his hands, and his head shook back and forth.

“Bwaahh?” he squeaked.

“Well,” answered a blushing Twilight, “I-I came to realize, Spike, that I don’t really have much in common with­–”

“Crash Assembly!” he called, smirking even broader than he had before.

She rolled her eyes. That had been the worst one yet.

“–and I’ve come to think that my crush on him had to do with the hormones that were rushing around in the body of that odd creature I became on the other side of the mirror. So, basically,” she added, “it was a matter of body chemistry, one that was strong enough to leave emotional consequences when I returned to Equestria. Basically, it was just the hormones. Teenage hormones… you see.”

Spike’s hands settled on his hips, and he looked up to her with a smarmy grin.

“What?” she asked.

“Twilight,” he said, “that’s so high school…”

Twilight gave an exasperated groan. As she watched Spike laugh at his own joke, a wicked smile went over her face.

“Oh, really?” she said, drawing the words out. “I hardly think that I’m the only one who brought back some traits inherent to the species they became on the other side of the mirror, Spike.”

Spike stopped laughing. “I’m down to one doggy biscuit a day, Twi. I swear!”

“Oh, I wasn’t talking about that, my little puppy,” she said, her lips curling into an unwholesome grin. “I was talking about how you took a great big sniff of–”

Two clawed hands immediately pressed themselves against her lips, the dragon taking his turn to quickly silence the mare.

“You said you wouldn’t mention that again!” he cried, abject horror sinking through his expression.

He leaned farther into her face, his hands still pressed to her lips.

“It was just the one time!” he shrieked.

He danced about in place, anxiety coasting around him.

“W-we settled out-of-court!”

“Okay, okay, Spike,” she said as her magic lifted his hands. She chuckled a little as the dragon held his head, remembering the consequences of his canine conniption.

“Oh jeez, the gardening… so much gardening… Roseluck still looks at me funny…”

“Okay, well, getting back to the topic of me having feelings for another pony,” she began again.

“Sooo much gardening,” he answered, shuddering a bit. “So. Much. Gardening.”

Twilight waited for him to recover. After a few long moments they returned to staring at one another, Twilight still trying to move the conversation towards the hardest part, towards the reason for this whole façade.

“So, it’s not him,” she said, a sigh lifting from her.

“Good, I’m glad,” Spike said.

“W-what?” Twilight answered, her sigh catching in her throat, making her sputter. “What… what do you mean by that?! He wasn’t a bad guy at all, it’s just that…”

“Think about it, Twi,” Spike said, lifting a finger. He drove it into the palm of his other hand as he made some very interesting points.

“He was a handsome, blue-maned stallion. He looked good in a uniform, and had a military career. He was cool... really cool, with like guitars and music and stuff. He was a nice guy, really. He wasn’t into books or history or science or anything smart like that.”

He looked back up to her with a knowing glare.

“Really… think about it, Twi. Could you have been trying any harder to date Shining Armor?”

Twilight’s eyes went wide, and the room suddenly seemed to flip over, or perhaps it was just her stomach… most of her internal organs, actually. Little sounds of disbelief came from somewhere inside her throat as her eyes fell down into tiny pinpricks of purple.

There was a splintering sound, and little chunks of wood seemed to fly about in her perception.

Spike sighed, and then walked over to her and lifted her jaw back into her head. It had gone crashing through the floorboards and into the basement. “Yeah,” he said, moving the carpet over the hole that her mandible had left in the floor, “kinda creepy when ya think about it, huh?”

Twilight’s body gave a full shudder.

“W-well,” she said, fighting her way back to rational thought, “t-that certainly explains why Cadence has been looking at me funny for the last few months…”

Little sounds of discomfort floated around the room. The two cleared their throats. The dragon twiddled his thumbs, and the alicorn looked at the fireplace.

“Plus…” Spike said in a small voice, breaking the silence.

“Plus?” Twilight answered, lifting her head to look at him.

Spike stood up, and with a little resolve he told her a truth that he had been hiding.

“He wasn’t good enough for you, Twi,” the dragon said, forcing the words to come, revealing a secret that he’d been keeping to himself since the day that they’d returned home. “He didn’t deserve you anyway. He just wouldn’t have been good enough for you, Twi, I think… so, yeah…”

Spike stood there for a second, running his hand up and down his arm. It didn’t last long before he was wrapped in a pair of forelegs and pulled into a deep hug.

“Oh, Spike!” she said. “Don’t feel that way!

“I’m not saying he’s a bad colt, Twi. He seemed great, but… not great enough for you, is all,” Spike said, sinking into her embrace. “I-I want you to have somepony very, very special is all. Somebody who can see how special you are…”

Twilight lowered her head over him.

Don’t put me on a pedestal, Spike, she thought as she held him. I’m just a pony, after all, alicorn or not, and I have somepony who I want to be able to reach me.

“Thank you, Spike, that means a great deal to me. The pony that I’m thinking of… is very special. Wonderful even, and I hope you approve when you find out who it is…”

I really, really, really hope you approve, she thought, or this could be murder.

“That’s great, Twi,” he said softly, placing his head against her chest. “That’s really great.”

Moments drifted by, and Twilight thought about Spike’s words.

Yeah, this is going to be murder. This will kill him.

“Hey, Twi!” he said, bouncing in place. “So, wait, if you really are done thinking about him that way…”

He chuckled a little, and Twilight knew what was coming next.

Oh, Celestia… a joke.

Spike picked up the duster, holding it like it was a microphone. He twirled it around a little, as though he were a Las Pegasus lounge act.

“If you’re done with your crush on him then…”

Twilight looked at him unsurely.

“Wait, wait, you’ll like this one,” Spike chuckled.

Twilight didn’t have much confidence in the statement, but she waited patiently.

“If your crush is already over, then I guess…”

Spike winked.

“…he was just a flash in the pan!”

Twilight’s groan could be heard in the streets outside the library.

“Thank you, thank you!” Spike said, taking a bow. “Don’t forget to tip your wait staff!”

And I promised myself I wouldn’t call him immature during all of this, she thought, watching him bend once again. Still, he was in a good mood. Maybe now was the time to broach the topic once again.

“Yes,” she said, looking for his reaction, “it was just a crush, Spike. It’s over now. It wasn’t anything special. Just like all crushes, it’s passed, right? Crushes are just silly little things… don’t you think?”

Spike stopped in the middle of his bow, shuddering to a stop. The little drake looked back over his shoulder, holding his pose as though he were in the middle of a dance step. His gaze hung in the air, directed at Twilight.

There was a look of betrayal in his eyes, a rejection of her words.

“No,” he said, looking at her like she should know better than to say such a thing. “No, I don’t think that crushes are silly, Twi. I really don’t…”

“Oh,” Twilight answered, letting the word slink across the room.

She watched Spike as he peeked beneath the carpet, staring at the hole her jaw had made. The way he had looked at her when she had said that crushes were silly… that expression hung in her thoughts. Of course Spike wouldn’t think crushes were silly… especially not his crush.

Especially not his crush on...

I overplayed my hoof, she thought. This is going to be so hard for him.

“Twi?”

Twilight returned her gaze to the dragon, and she saw a smile slowly break across his face.

“Ummm, this new stallion, the one you have feelings for...”

Stallion. He had said stallion. She didn’t correct him.

“…are you really, really sure that he’s a great guy? Are you sure that he’s as wonderful as you think he is?”

"Yes, Spike,” she answered, “the pony who I have these feelings for is wonderful. They are warm, creative, friendly, and generous. Actually, it is somepony that I’ve known as a friend quite awhile…”

“Oh!” he said as a smile crept across his face. “That’s cool, I guess.”

Twilight winced inwardly. He had missed her hints.

Wonderful, just wonderful…

She watched as he scooped up the duster once again.

“Alrighty!” he said. “Let’s play ‘Who Wants to Date my Mother-like Sisterly Very Best Friend Thing!’ ” Spike waved as though he were a quiz show host, holding the duster up to his face and smiling broadly. “Let’s meet our contestants!”

Twilight chuckled a little as Spike brushed his frills back, looking the part of a greasy dating show host.

“Is it Big Mac?”

“No, Spike it isn’t,” she answered.

“Caramel?”

“Oh, no…”

“Lucky?”

“Who?”

“You’d know him if ya saw him, Twi,” Spike said. “Guess not, huh? How about Comet Tail?”

“Afraid not.”

“Davenport?”

“Isn’t he a little old for me?” she asked, creasing her face.

“Hey, I don’t judge,” Spike said.

That’s good, she thought, one of the many fears that were accompanying this conversation rearing up in her mind. I hope you mean that, Spike.

“Oh!” Spike said, “Is it Joe? It’s Joe, right?!”

Twilight was a little taken aback by the whelp’s enthusiasm. Spike had known Joe for a great long while. Apart from the Lord Protector of the Nursery, Joe had been the first stallion outside of her family that she could recall Spike opening up to.

“Sorry, Spike,” she said, lowering her voice. “Joe is really nice and all, but he’s not the pony that I’m thinking of. Besides, I hear that he’s quite happy with his marefriend, Allspice.”

“Yeah, I suppose so,” Spike said in a defeated tone. “I think it would have worked, though. Plus, you’re prettier than Allspice.”

Spike jumped a little, as though surprised by his own words.

Twilight was a little surprised herself, but as the blush sat across her assistant’s face, she smiled at him once more. She leaned forward, nuzzling to him as she giggled happily. “Thank you for saying so, Spike. It means a lot to me that you think I’m pretty.”

“Heh, what can I say?” Spike answered, rising up on his tiptoes a bit to answer her nuzzles. “I call ‘em as I see ‘em, Sister.”

As Spike settled back onto his feet, he tapped the duster against his head, and then scratched the top of his head with the handle.

“Uuuumm… oh. Oh, no, Twi, you aren’t thinking of that doctor, are you? That… that wouldn’t work out well,” Spike said, shaking his head. “That guy doesn’t seem to know where, or when, he is half the time. He’d drive you nuts…”

“No, no it’s not him, she said, putting emphasis on the last word. She was becoming frustrated. She needed to know, before anything else, how Spike would feel about…

“Thunderlane?”

“No, Spike… I…”

“Too bad,” he said with a shake of his head. “Rumble and I could have hung out more.”

She listened as Spike said a few more names, all stallions, and as he did his words slowed, and he scratched his head more and more.

“Hugh Jelly?” he said, seemingly scraping the bottom of the metaphorical barrel.

“Eww,” Twilight said. “Really?”

“That’s all I’ve got, Twi!” Spike said, lifting his arms, signaling his surrender. “Jeez, we… we really need to meet more stallions. Yeah…”

Spike flipped the duster from one hand to the other.

“So, I give up,” he said. “You win, Twilight. Who is the lucky stallion that you’ve got your eye on?”

“Well, Spike,” Twilight began, “I’d… I’d like you to consider something…”

Spike flipped the duster from one hand back to the other, doing so over and over. “Yeah?” he asked, his attention seeming to be divided between the duster and his caregiver. “What’s that, Twi?”

Twilight took a deep breath.

The world was not a predictable place. A month ago, Princess Twilight Sparkle had thought that she’d known herself very well. She had thought that she had, over the course of her two decades, learned all that she’d truly needed to know about herself. She’d known who she was, and she’d been comfortable with that.

Then Rarity had arrived, bursting into her home, their home, and settling new feelings and sensations through Twilight as completely and unexpectedly as the mountains of fabric and sewing supplies that had followed along in the fashionista’s wake.  

Now, she sought to broach these feelings to Spike. These new feelings, ones she had never felt for a mare before… these feelings that were washing back and forth through her whenever she imagined the slow, grace-filled motions of Rarity’s walk, or the flash of her eyes, or the tones of her voice. These were what she needed to share with him first. The revelation of who it was would have to come second.

She trusted Spike, and the world was not a predictable place.

Equestria was in many ways idyllic, but she knew it was folly to assume that it was perfect. Certainly, it was more open and accepting than most of the other nations on Equus. The ponies that made up the majority of its population had proven themselves open to differences of all types. For Ponyville, this seemed doubly so. They, after all, had no problem accepting an adorable little dragon as one of their own.

But… unhappy things still lingered. Some things do not change easily, and animal reactions to certain traits still lingered in the backs of some minds. She had heard the whispers during her life, and the hard, unmoving prejudices of some of the more calloused minds still harbored some unspoken biases.

Now that those whispers and jokes applied to her, she suddenly found them louder and more threatening.

What will my family think? she had found herself thinking. What will Princess Celestia think? Will… will the girls still feel comfortable around me?

The more that she had thought about it, the more she had begun to scare herself, the larger the problem had become. She had found herself thinking about all of the times she had seen two mares walking together, close by one another, or two stallions leaning against each other…

…and her mind swept back through the streets, searching for stares in the crowd, trying to see if any harsh, judging eyes were following behind the pairs of ponies.

The world was not a predictable place. That she knew. It was a lot scarier when you began to imagine whispers and stares following you, judging you for a part of yourself over which you had no control.

She trusted Spike. Like so many other things, it had to begin with him.

It had to begin with the dragon whelp that had been a part of her life since the day she’d hatched him. It had to open with the child she had nursed through tummy-aches and molts.  It had to start with the boy who had slept in his own little basket at her bedside for a decade.

If he didn’t accept that part of her…

“Spike,” she said, hiding a gulp, “w-what would you say if I said that… that the pony I have feelings for, the one who I can’t stop thinking about, well… if it isn’t a stallion?”

The duster went clattering to the floor, nearly falling down the hole that Twilight’s jaw had created.

Spike had missed the catch as he had thrown the duster from one clawed hand to the other, fumbling with it at the implications of her words.