Chapter 3: Her Imperfect Motives

If Twilight had the ability to laugh at the moment, she would have had a good chuckle.

An hour ago, her little dragon had assured her that, despite her realization that she was a mare who had feelings for another mare, she was still loved. He still loved her… supported her. He had once again been her little rock, her worry stone that she had rubbed for comfort. He had stood by her.

Once again, she had used Spike.

Just about an hour ago, she had told him that the mare who had made her realize that hidden part of herself was the very same one whom he had been crushing on hard since the day they’d arrived in Ponyville.

She took a heavy breath.

It had been going so well…

Twilight stared across the soap-strewn floor. A sardonic statement that was floating around in her mind, trying to find some way to make her grin or chuckle, or do anything, really.

Spike had spent the last hour sobbing. Well, he had spent the first fifteen minutes sobbing. Wailing, actually, now that her mind had calmed enough to let her begin categorizing things properly. The next fifteen had been just the regular sort of crying that one associates with children who have had their hearts broken.

The last half-hour had simply been interspersed moments of sniffling, if her ears had heard correctly.

The sarcastic statement flipped through her conscious mind once again, begging to be recognized. Twilight slowly lifted her head off the floor, and her mane fell out behind her in long tangles. She let her eyes search her immediate surroundings. She blinked some of the tears from her eyes as she surveyed the lonely part of the floor with which she had become so intimately acquainted over the last hour.

To her right sat the ruined remains of her cuckoo clock, the little bird still staring at the ceiling forlornly, lamenting the loss of its perch and longtime living accomodations. The floor shone with all of the soapy water that had gone spilling from the bucket, the bar of soap itself slowly sliding along on imperceptible currents, drifting along aimlessly like a cruise ship whose captain had only just looked up from his Sudoku to realize he was navigating the wrong ocean.

Twilight ran her hoof across her face, and then let let her eyes fall on the door to Spike’s refuge. As she did, the sardonic statement flew through her mind once more, and finally her conscious mind gave up and let her ponder it, lest the thought become depressed.

Today, for the first time, I admitted to somepony, to someone, that I’m a mare who has feelings for another mare, she thought, her face remaining impassive as she studied the door. But I’m lying here… hoping that it’s Spike who comes out of the closet.

The statement took a bow and departed her thoughts. She let it pass quietly, and then moved closer to the closet door.

“Spike?” she whispered.

Something shifted on the other side of the door, and there was a bump followed by a rubbery squeak. In her mind’s eye, Twilight pictured him placing one of her winter boots over his head, using it to shield himself from the sound of her voice and whatever words she was about to say.

Despite the inherent ridiculousness of such an image, Twilight did not laugh.

“Spike,” she said, leaning her head against the doorframe. “I know that you are upset. I know that… that you must feel like I’ve deceived you, betrayed you. Of course I know how you feel about Rarity. It means the world to me that you trusted me with that secret. You know that I would never use my promise against you. That would mean the end of our friendship and I–”

She stopped herself, not risking dragging Pinkie into the situation. Things were already complicated enough as they stood.

“You still there?” Spike asked, his voice detached and cold.

“Y-yes,” she answered. “Yes, I was just thinking about Pinkie.”

“Humph!” he muttered, the door nearly drowning his words. “Why? What brought her into this? Did she suddenly develop feelings for my doggie bed or something? Is she was eloping with my blankie?”

Twilight lifted her hoof, afraid that it would get wet with the sarcasm that was dripping off of him and flooding out from beneath the door.

“No, Spike,” she said. “Please, you’re being im–”

She caught her tongue. Careful! she thought, scolding herself.

“–possible. We… we have to talk about this,” she said. “Please, Spike, I know that this must be a surprise to you, but… but you have to know that. I, that I think Rarity is beautiful.”

“No, really?!” he said, a new trickle of sardonicism flowing from under the door. “I never noticed! Do you think she’d look good on a T-shirt?!”

She put her hoof across her face. She didn’t like being on the receiving end of the snarky part of him, of his seemingly endless supply of cutting remarks that he had learned over his short life.

“Spike,” Twilight said, trying to ignore his tone. “It makes me happy to be near her. When… when we nuzzled, it was the first time that it felt real to me, like it was something that could last forever…”

“Oh, is that a fact, Twi? That’s great, I’ll sign you up for the ‘I Like Getting Nuzzled by Rarity’ newsletter!” he cried, his voice so loud that she could hear the loose coat hangers chiming in the closet. “I’m the editor. I print it off every Tuesday! You’re welcome to submit articles!”

The gentle trickle of sarcasm became a great rushing river, a metaphorical Maresissippi flowing from beneath the closet door. She imagined that she saw the great White Soap Bar Liner R.M.S. Titanic Friendship Failure sailing merrily across the living room floor in the mixture of his snarky words and the soapy water, unknowingly approaching the iceberg of her strained relationship with the baby dragon.

It was an iceberg that looked suspiciously like the top of the basement stairs. That wasn’t a good place for a bar of soap at all, metaphorically or physically.

Her magic reached out to move it someplace safer when a single pained sob once more came from behind the closet door. Her heart went heavy again, and she leaned closer to the space between the door and the frame again, once more whispering to the child within.

“I-I tried to think of the best way to break it to you, Spike,” she said, trying to find the happy medium between a whisper and being loud enough to be heard through the door. “That’s why I made it a game…”

“Oh? So, I won? Best prize ever!” quipped the muffled voice behind the door.

Twilight pressed her hoof to her forehead, and then continued.

“Spike,” she whispered, hoping that the dragon on the other side of the door heard her words. “Spike, we have to talk about this. We need to come to an understanding or… or I’m going to keep hurting you.”

The door went remarkably silent.

“Spike,” she said, quieting her voice further still, forcing him to listen, “I have something that I need to tell you. The reason why I needed to tell you this is because I did something to you. I did something that I’m not proud of. I need to admit it to you, and we… we need to move on from here. We need to deal with this. You can’t… we can’t hide from this.”

The door maintained its silence. At least he wasn’t sobbing anymore.

“When Rarity and Sweetie Belle were here, you were very happy. I-I think that you did very well. You were a gentledrake to them the whole time, and I’m very proud of you. B-but, Spike, I… when I began to feel this way about Rarity, when I began to fall in love with her…”

There was the sound of something heavy being thrown against the inside of the closet. She ignored it and pushed on.

“When these feelings for her began, I was confused. I felt myself become more and more attracted to her. I did everything I could to make sure that you wouldn’t notice, even though I slipped up from time to time. I was afraid that you would notice, because something… because I was afraid that something like this would happen!”

She waited for a snarky comment to lift from behind the closet door. She was a little more than surprised when none came. She took a deep breath, and then continued her explanation.

“I wish… I wish I could say that I was worried about you finding out, but the truth, Spike, is that I was feeling something very different about you at the time. I was feeling something terrible and awful. I felt something that I’m not proud of…”

There was a little sound of something shifting against the door. In her mind she imagined Spike turning to the side, pressing his ear up to it to hear her better. She desperately hoped that the part of the dragon that had always shown concern for her, be it from making her breakfast or sending desperate pleas for help off to Princess Celestia when she was going through fits of compulsive insanity, was still at work in him… that she had not broken his trust so completely.

Because, she knew, it was about to be tested.

“Spike?” she asked gently, resting her forehead against the closet door. “Do you remember the picnic, the one that Rarity and I went on? Well…”

---------------------------------------------

“Awww, shucks!”

“Sweetie Belle! Such language!” Rarity said, more than a little disappointment in her voice. “You knew that today was the day that the four of us were planning on having a picnic at the millpond! I’m surprised that you didn’t keep better track of which day your little dance would fall on!”

“On the other hoof, Rarity,” Twilight said, gathering a few more items to take along on their outing, “this could be a great opportunity for Sweetie Belle to use one of her natural talents in the pursuit of her cutie mark while under adult supervision and in a controlled environment and away from any flammable materials or explosives.”

Rarity looked back at Twilight, and after a moment she took the meaning of Twilight’s implications.

“Ohhhhh! Oh, yes! Indeed… Sweetie, my darling little sister, do forgive me! I hadn’t realized what a great opportunity this must be for you,” Rarity said, running her hoof up and down the back of the upset little filly. “Of course you must take this chance to shine! You must! You must!”

The face of the filly brightened, and she turned to lay her head against her sister as the two shared a little nuzzle. As Sweetie sat there, the white of her coat resting against that of her sister, almost disappearing into the similar shade, Rarity lifted her head back towards Twilight.

The unicorn gave the alicorn a little wink, showing that she understood Twilight’s meaning. A little sheltered giggle passed between them.

In Twilight’s head, this little interaction became something more. It became proof that she and Rarity could interact on so many levels. It showed her that they understood each other in a way that her other friends, no matter how dear to her, simply did not. Not to mention, of course, the butterflies that went through her when Rarity winked at her. Not to mention the way that Rarity’s giggle chimed around in Twilight’s perceptions, making her heart flutter. And, of course, not to mention the way that these new feelings made her blush slightly… enough that she felt the need to turn her head and hide the evidence from her friend.

“I still wish I could go on the picnic with all of you,” Sweetie Belle said with a sigh.

“Well, Sweetie,” Twilight said, lowering her head to the filly, “there’s still a lot of summer left, after all. I’m sure that we can find some more opportunities for picnics in the future.”

“Really?” the filly said happily, her trademark squeak accenting the word.

"Well of course, dearest!” Rarity added. “I hardly think that this should be the last time the four of us go on an outing!”

The four of us…

Twilight’s nose wrinkled a little, and a frown flashed across her face before she could quell its appearance.

She looked back to where Rarity sat with Sweetie Belle. The unicorn had produced her brushes once more and was in the middle of tidying her sister up before sending her off to the dance. Twilight watched the two, listening to Rarity’s voice, watching the way that the unicorn gently ran her combs and brushes across the little filly’s mane, the way the aura of her magic tenderly traced her sister’s coat.

Twilight stood there watching, envying. She let her mind replace Sweetie’s form for her own. She listened to Rarity’s words, obviously meant for Sweetie, encouraging the filly to do her best, and convinced herself that they were meant for her.

Twilight let her eyes close, and immediately she felt herself washed in the vision that her imagination had been presenting her.

Rarity stood over her, running her brushes through her mane, across her tail, along her coat. They felt so good… they felt good because they were laced with Rarity’s magic, the very aura of the unicorn tracking along her body, finding the little places that lifted tiny ticklish gasps from her.

Her ears no longer registered Sweetie’s name. Instead, whenever a little giggle lifted from the filly, in her mind, it became her giggle, reacting to Rarity’s touch. Whenever Rarity said her sister’s name, in Twilight’s mind it became her own name, and the soft sound of it made her lift her nose, drawing in more of Rarity’s perfumes as she thought of the combs and brushes making their way across her coat.

She imagined the brushes leaving caring, affectionate strokes across her, ones that made her stretch her legs out, made her lift her face as the feel of Rarity’s magic trailed down her neck.

Twilight imagined herself slowly going to the floor, Rarity gently dragging the combs across her shoulder blades before finally rolling over onto her back. Twilight imagined rolling her head across the pillows as Rarity’s weight shifted on the mattress. Rarity spoke her name gently, whispering “Twilight” as the brushes made small, perfect, tiny circles across her chest, her barrel, her stomach, her…

“Twilight?” called a small voice, speaking to her from the other side of the daydream. The vivid pictures that her imagination had been draping across her raced away, and as Twilight slipped back into herself, she found Sweetie Belle looking up to her innocently.

“Y-yes, Sweetie?” Twilight asked, trying to hide her blush.

“Do you promise that we can go on a picnic again sometime this summer? I really, really wanted to go,” Sweetie said, her voice breaking a little.

“Of course. I promise. I promise that we’ll go again sometime very soon, before the boutique opens. Then it will be just the four of us,” she said, leaning her head down low enough that she had to look up to Sweetie to make the promise, the alicorn princess supplicating herself before the filly.

The four of us…

Twilight felt herself frown once more. She hid it as quickly as possible.

“Alright, dearest, you must get ready!” Rarity sang, her voice filling the room. “You’ll have to be off soon.”

“Wait a second, Sweetie is leaving?” called another voice, this one coming from the kitchen. “Humph! It would have been nice of somebody to, you know, tell me that before I made all of these sandwiches… and potato salad… and macaroni salad!”

“I’m sorry, Spike,” Sweetie said, rolling out of Rarity’s forelegs. “There’s this dance for all of the kids at school… a Summer Get Together Dance. I forgot all about it.”

“Well, okay, I guess,” he said, appearing a bit deflated. In a moment his expression returned to normal, and he looked back to the filly. “You wanna take some to the dance? You know, to share and stuff?”

“Why, Spike!” Rarity called, trotting across the room to pat him on the head. “That is simply a marvelous idea. How communal of you. Isn’t he just the most thoughtful little drake, Twilight? Isn’t he just something special?”

Twilight watched as Rarity drew her hoof across his frills, complimenting the whelp.

Something she did not like went through Twilight’s heart as she watched the little hearts appear over Spike’s head, as she saw the goofy, love-struck expression fall over the boy.

“Yes," Twilight answered. "He is."

“Bye, Sweetie,” Spike said, placing the containers in her saddlebag. “Have fun, okay?”

“Thanks, Spike!” she sang, her trademark squeak filling out his name.

The filly ran to her sister, running her face across the older mare in a series of warm nuzzles. Twilight had begun to picture herself in Sweetie’s position once again when the filly came running to her.

It was a quick hug, but it was genuine. “You promise, right Twilight?” Sweetie whispered.

“Of course,” Twilight said, returning the hug. “You have fun at the dance, okay?”

The filly grinned a broad grin and then leapt out the door. She quickly trotted down the street to where the school stood as though awkwardly awaking from summer vacation. Around it the happy sounds of fillies and colts enjoying lemonade, dancing, and ice cream cascaded through the summer sun.

Good, Twilight thought, that’s one out of the way.

Twilight shuddered to a stop, her rear legs literally sliding across the floor at where her thoughts had gone. She was instantly ashamed that she would feel such things, and her mouth hung open.

Still, it didn’t stop her from pressing on with her plan.

Yes, a plan had developed in her head, a way to finally spend some time alone with Rarity. The second that Sweetie had suddenly remembered the dance, a window of opportunity had flown open in front of Twilight.

Opportunity had knocked, and a green-eyed monster had answered.

Twilight turned to watch Spike bringing items for the picnic out of the kitchen and into the living room, the happy smile across his face showing that he too was looking forward to going on this picnic, that he too was looking forward to spending time with Rarity.

She watched as his hands folded together, and how he lifted them to rest his head upon as Rarity asked him trivial little things like: “What types of sandwiches have you prepared for us, Spike?” and “Have you set aside my favorite picnic china, Spikey-Wikey?”

Twilight listened as he breathed responses, whispering them with terms like: “milady” and “Yes… Rarity”, the whelp drawing out her name out in a fog of contemplation and adoration.

Twilight’s teeth ground together.

Spike’s crush on Rarity. In light of her new feelings for her unicorn friend, it had become problematic.

Meaning, of course, that she’d grown envious of Spike’s feelings for the beautiful mare. Love makes ponies do crazy things, and for a princess who had once gone running around Ponyville in a fit of adorable insanity when she had been facing a late assignment, something like love can make one do and feel very, very crazy things indeed.

Things like feel jealousy for a child who was drifting on an innocent crush. Things like become resentful at the little hearts that spilled out of him whenever he spoke with Rarity. These observations, once seen as cute and endearing had, in the light of her new feelings, begun to draw emotions from deep inside Twilight that she did not like but which she did not silence.

When the month had begun, she had responded to his crush the way she usually had. She had rolled her eyes and giggled. Now she was staring daggers at him and sending him to bed early. She had begun making excuses for him to leave the room when she and Rarity could be together.  She had begun distracting him when he had stared at Rarity more than he should… more than she thought he should at any rate.

Twilight shook herself out of her thoughts. Her mouth fell open once again. She was utterly startled by where her thoughts had once again taken her. Was she really envying her little assistant, the boy who had been by her side all of this time? Was she really begrudging him a childhood crush, one that she had known about all of this time?

Twilight shook herself. Twilight, what are you doing? she said. Spike thinks the world of you, and this… this is how you’re thinking of him? As competition? Twilight! No! Bad Twilight Sparkle! He’s trusted you, and now you’re going to…

Denunciations of her plan, of the way she’d been enviously eyeing Spike’s adoration for Rarity, of the way she’d become more and more resentful of his puppy love as he helped her with her projects here in the refuge of the library.

What’s wrong with me? said the better angel of her nature. Love makes us do strange things… but don’t I love Spike, too? Hasn’t he always been there for me?

Still, it didn’t stop her from pressing on with her plan.

She looked up to see Spike standing near Rarity, the implements of their picnic standing around him, all seeming to be ready for their outing.

As she watched, Rarity ran her hoof through Spike’s frills, complimenting him on his choice of color-coordinated napkins or some such frivolity. She heard his happy sigh lift from across the room, and once more a lovestruck expression went across his features.

A single sliver of magic escaped her, making something erupt in an unseen spark of magic behind Rarity and Spike.

“Hey, Twi? Are ya ready for the picnic? Are we ready to head to the millpond?” Spike asked his oldest, and best, friend.

“I am, Spike,” she said sweetly. “The question is, are you? Did you finish all of your chores?”

“Yup!” the dragon said, a look of self-congratulatory confidence sitting on his features. “I got ‘em all done nice and early so that I could get everything ready for the picnic!”

“Are you sure?” she asked, painting uncertainty into her voice. “Did you mop the bathroom?”

“Yup!” he answered.

“Did you stock the writing desk?” she asked, keeping her tone even, awaiting her chance.

“Paper, ink, quills, and wax seals!” he said, counting each one on each of his claws.

“Very good, Spike,” she said. “And how about the banisters? Did they get polished?”

“Yep, they… wait, what?” the dragon said, going from confident to shocked in the space of moments.

“The banisters?” she said. “They were on the list. The lanterns still look low on fuel, too. Did you fill them? They were on the back of the list as well.”

“The… the back?” he said, his voice going quieter. “I-I checked...there wasn’t anything on the back. I checked…”

“I’m sure that if you checked right now, Spike, you’d see that there were chores to do on the back, too,” Twilight said, forcing herself to look stern, as though she were rightfully indignant at his laziness.

She watched as Spike gave a little shake, and then leapt towards the wastebasket.

“No… no, I checked. I’m sure I did. I’m like super-sure that I did,” he said pulling out wads of paper, desperately searching for the list he had disposed of earlier that morning. In a moment he found it, wadded up as it was, and lifted it to his eyes.

Twilight watched as he slowly flipped it over, as though fearing what he would find on the other side. His eyes fell across a group of chores that he had been absolutely, utterly, completely sure had not been there that morning. She watched as he winced, and then his eyes went wide.

He had been sure that there hadn’t been any chores listed for him on the back. He had been absolutely sure…

…and he had been right.

Until Twilight’s magic had found the note buried in the garbage can, there had been nothing on the back. He had completed his tasks. Yes, he had grumbled about them, as he was generally inclined to do, but he had dutifully accomplished them as he always had.

Her magic had made a new list appear there, the words gathering on the crumpled paper as it sat in the wastepaper basket. Now, Spike ran his eyes over the list, not believing what he saw there.

He had been so sure.

“Twilight,” he said, looking back at her, waving his arms through the air. “I-I… whoa, I don’t know what happened! I had been so super-positive sure!” he said, some panic in his voice.

“Is that the truth, Spike?” she said, raising her eyebrow and cocking her head, playing the part of a pony regarding him dubiously. “Or is it possible that some little dragon decided that he wanted to cut corners so that he could get ready for a picnic instead? Some dragon, say, who has told me fibs before?”

Spike’s expression went ashen.

“N-no, Twi, no! I promise! I promise that I thought that I had done all of my chores! I was sure of it!” he said, looking deep into her eyes. “I swear! Cross my hearts and hope to die, stick a–”

Twilight’s hoof went over his mouth. No need to drag Pinkie into this.

“Very well, Spike, I believe you. If you say that you didn’t see them on there, then I believe you,” she said, letting her expression softened. She gazed down at Spike, watching as signs of relief came over him as well.

“But,” she said, maintaining her even tone, “these chores are your responsibility, and whether you saw them or not, they are yours to do. I think that, instead of coming on the picnic, you should stay here and finish them.”

The room was silent, apart from the distant cuckoo clock, the one she had brought downstairs to entertain Sweetie Belle. After a moment, a sort of whine rose around them, and a little dragon begged his case.

“No, Twi, please! I-I can do them when we get back, can’t I? Please? It was a mistake, and I… I made the lunch for all of us. Can’t I come, please?” he said, folding his hands in front of him.

“Spike,” she said, putting her stern face on once more, “I’m sure you did a wonderful job making the food for the picnic, like you always do, but these are your responsibilities, and if I were to let you off the hook…”

Spike’s face turned to Rarity, and he looked at her with loss, seeing his chance to spend some time with his ladylove falling away.

“Please, Twilight, please!” he said, falling to his knees in front of her. “I’ll do double my chores tomorrow! I’ll… I’ll do double chores for the rest of the week! Please, please, please just let me come on the picnic! I’ve been looking forward to it since forever!”

“Spike,” she said, curtly. “I have to stand firm on this. You made the mistake, you have to take responsibility for it.”

What did you just do?! her conscience screamed. What did You. Just. Do?!

Twilight watched as Spike looked at Rarity once more, and then the whelp fell in front of her, grabbing her legs and pleading with her.

“Please, Twilight! Please! Haven’t I been good all this week? Haven’t I been good all this month… ever since Rarity and Sweetie came? I’ve tried to be extra-helpful for them, too! I really have! Please, Twi, please let me come…”

Another voice added itself to the scene, floating over the both of them.

“Twilight, darling, I must admit… isn’t it a little harsh to keep poor Spikey-Wikey away from the picnic?” Rarity said, approaching the two. “I mean, he did prepare–”

Twilight turned her eyes towards Rarity. There was no turning back now. He is my ward to discipline as I see fit, her eyes said. Please do not contradict me in front of him.

“Oh,” Rarity said, understanding the glare. “I see.”

Twilight turned her face back down to Spike, looking at him as he clung to her forelegs, his eyes watering as he stared back up to her in petition.

She felt something slide around inside her uncomfortably, gnawing on her guts. I’m really doing this. I’m doing this to Spike. I’m lying to him. I’m hurting him just so I can…

That better angel of Twilight’s nature, the one who had been protesting this whole horrible act, found itself thrown to the ground, trampled beneath the emotions that were flooding through the alicorn.

“Spike,” she said, keeping any emotions from entering her voice. “I’m very surprised at you. You know better than to act this way. You aren’t acting like my Number One Assistant right now. You are acting like a little baby dragon…

…you’re acting immature.”

The title fell through Spike, making him recoil. She had called him that in front of Rarity. She had said that in front of the pony who he desperately wanted to see him as mature – as capable.

Spike curled into a little ball, the crumpled chore list in his hands.

“I’m sorry, Spike,” Twilight lied. She pressed her nose down on top of his head in a quick, sterile, emotionless nuzzle… one devoid of any genuine feelings. “Be a good baby dragon and finish your chores. We won’t be long.”

Her magic gathered up the components of the picnic. She turned towards the door, hiding it from the other two occupants of the library.

What did you just do? her crumpled angel asked. Why? Why? He loves you...

“I was so sure,” Spike whimpered. “I was so sure.”

“Goodbye, Spikey-Wikey,” Rarity breathed. “Do your best, and we shall see you soon.”

Spike could not reply. He could not bring himself to look at the beautiful mare… could not stomach her seeing an immature creature sitting there…

“I don’t understand,” he whispered, his voice breaking across the words. “I was so sure. I-I was so sure…”

Rarity joined Twilight at the door, and together the two mares passed outside.

“He’ll be alright,” Twilight said, nodding to Rarity. “He likes doing his chores, and it’s an important lesson for him to learn. We'll have him with us on our next picnic. There's a lot of summer left.”

“I… I suppose you know best,” Rarity said, returning the nod.

Twilight hefted the picnic supplies, and then they began making their way through the streets of Ponyville.