After Dash’s proclamation, the rest of the group gave a knowing smile to one-another, save for Rarity and Fluttershy. The tailor rolled her eyes.

“A lady does not get blitzed, Dash,” Rarity lectured, giving a small push to her curled hair. “She simply becomes more comfortable.”

“Yeah, whatever,” Rainbow said with a wave of her hand. “Last one to the bar pays!” She bolted from the group, headed straight for the bar.

“What?!” Rarity squeaked out. “Come, Jacqueline! I refuse to let that ragamuffin have one dime of our own!”

“On it, sugar!” Applejack called out with a nod, assuming a sprinter’s position before disappearing in a proverbial puff of smoke, leaving only Twilight, Pinkie, Fluttershy, and Spike in their wake.

“Oh yeah,” Spike said to the rest present. “The other place said our drinks were covered by the king. I’d guess this casbah is the same sort of deal.”

“Well I’d hope so,” Twilight laughed, wiping away some sweat from her brow. “I’m slower than all of you.”

“I guess we can just walk then,” Fulttershy quietly said, looking to the others. “Shall we?”

“Right behind you! We’re gonna have you sing the Equestrian anthem in your underwear before the night’s over!” Pinkie exclaimed with a snorting laugh, giving a friendly pat to Fluttershy’s back.

Fluttershy squeaked just in time for Pinkie to grab her hand. “Not again…”

“Ready for some quality time that we’re more than likely going to forget in the morning, Spike?” Twilight asked, resting one hand on her hip while the other extended towards him. “Nothing screams fun like getting drunk for the first time with your big sister you know.”

He grinned. “Sure. Though I hope I do better than the first time Dash got drunk.”

“Everyone hopes they do better than Dash’s first time… and every time afterward,” Twilight laughed, taking his hand. “Now come on.”

They walked over to the bar, where Dash sat, a shot glass in her hand and a broad grin already plastered on her face.

Spike sat down next to Fluttershy and glanced at her. “So… I know you drink sometimes. Is there anything that doesn’t taste.. uh, strong? But looks manly,” he clarified. “I don’t want to drink something real blue or pink or something.”

“Well, um…” Fluttershy said tapping her chin as the barkeep brought her a martini. “Johnny Walker is pretty good, but that might be a bit too strong for you; you only started drinking today.”

“Oh.” He put a hand to his chin as he looked across the counter at the line of bottles. “I didn’t know there were this many choices.”

Fluttershy nodded and took a small sip of her drink. “Oh, you wouldn’t believe,” she said softly before she pointed over to Rainbow. “And if it’s any consolation, she’s only had a shot of what I mentioned earlier.”

“So something weak, but still manly. Hmm…” He looked once more at the older woman. “How is vodka?”

“Winter Palace is a very strong drink,” Fluttershy explained. “The first time I drank it I woke up the next morning without my bra… and most of the rest of my clothes.”

Coming from her, that was a strong drink. Normally Fluttershy was exceptionally prude. Spike went back to the drawing board. “What about a long-island iced tea? I hear those are good.”

“They taste good, but it can knock you on your rear if you’re not careful,” Fluttershy shrugged, turning slightly red. “You don’t want to know what Twilight tried to do to me after four of them.”

“I knew those diagrams weren’t just for reference,” Spike said, putting a fist loosely into his palm. “Ok, any other suggestions? Maybe I should just go for a glass of wine. That wasn’t too bad earlier.”

“Wine is always a safe bet,” Fluttershy smiled, placing her now empty glass in the counter, “Unless you’re Rainbow, I remember one time she had about twelve glasses…” Fluttershy shuddered at the thought. “Those poor men… they never stood a chance.”

“Alright. Let’s just go with wine.” He brought his hand up, drawing the barkeep’s attention. “A glass of wine for me, and a refill for my friend here.”

“What type of wine, sir?” the barkeep asked, already in the process of making another drink for Fluttershy.

Spike paused. “Uh…” He looked over to Fluttershy in a near panic. “What type?” he urgently whispered.

“Point Noir, 1936,” she whispered back. “The rain and sun were perfect that year.”

“Point Noir, 1936,” he repeated to the man, letting out an audible sigh of relief.

“Excellent choice, sir,” the barkeep said, pouring Spike a drink from a bottle underneath the counter, then handing Fluttershy her own.

Spike looked down at the drink and it’s reddish-purple tint. A lot more reasonable in color than the cosmopolitans he had seen Rarity indulge herself in before. He held out his glass to Fluttershy. “A toast,” he said.

“A toast,” Fluttershy repeated, tapping her glass on his, causing a small ringing noise to chime momentarily, “but what are we toasting to?”

“Crap. I should've thought of that first.” He chewed on his lip, then nodded. “I guess to friends and the future.”

“To friends and future,” Fluttershy repeated once more before taking a drink alongside Spike.

He took a swallow, feeling the drink slide down his throat. It was a little different feeling than the drink the king had offered, stronger, with a sort of burnt finish that, while strange, still had a good taste to it.

Spike looked at Fluttershy. Fluttershy looked at him. After a moment, he grinned, letting out a pleased hum of satisfaction.

“Oh Goddesses help me.” Fluttershy smiled cutely, resting her head in her palm. “I’ve made another wine-o.”

“I’ll know who to blame if I end up on the streets homeless in five years time,” Spike replied.

“Well that’s not very polite to say.” Fluttershy grinned back, playfully slapping his shoulder. “You can go out and mingle with the others, I’m probably boring anyway.”

“You’re not boring,” Spike said quickly. “You’re just quiet.” Rising, he nodded. “But I think I will try and hunt Twilight down. Yell if you need me.”

“Spike, if you hear me yelling tonight, then something’s gone horribly wrong,” Fluttershy rose her glass his direction. “Just be careful about how much you drink, last thing we need is another Rainbow.”

“You got it.” He took a few steps away and glanced across the room, stretching his neck as far as he could to find Twilight. The boy considered calling for her, but decided he was the center of attention in a bar already today, calling attention to himself now would be borderline suicide, so he took to walking around the room in hunt for her.

A good minute passed and Spike was still unable to find Twilight. Which he found very odd on account the balcony they stood on lacked ample places to remain hidden, sure there were crowds, but Twilight wasn’t Rainbow’s size, she couldn’t just dip in and out of the groups without her head at least popping up once. He let out a frustrated sigh—things like this usually happened when he was younger and a lot more naive, but it seemed that those two forces were still a factor in this case. He almost gave up and made his way back to Fluttershy when something unique caught the corner of his eye.

Normally he wouldn’t pay much mind to it, but whatever it was was just so enticing he couldn’t help but follow it. His eyes followed it until they came to a stop near an open corner of the balcony. Curious, Spike’s eyes traveled along the object until he realized just what it had been connected to the entire time, and she made Spike’s heart nearly jump out of his chest.

She was a woman with at least ten years on him him, and older than his friends by years too, in the twilight years of her twenties. She had been blessed with violet hair that spilled down to her shoulderblades, its position and color reminded him of Rarity’s so much that it hurt, and clear brown, earthen skin; lighter than Applejack’s mixed bloodline, but darker than his own.

Drawn to her more than any woman he had seen before, he continued to study her body. Her blue eyes were as beautiful as the midday sky. Her mouth, with full lips so perfect that they appeared to be sculpted on by an artist, rather than grown by nature. Full, sensual breasts that nearly matched Applejack’s size stood out proudly on her curved body and nearly swallowed a low-hanging pendant around her neck. Her oversized breasts were held back by a piece of violet cloth that matched her hair and tied around her back, while her bare stomach made him dizzy. It was perfect. Smooth, feminine. He didn’t know why, but he’d almost call it something like graceful, a far cry from Pinkie’s slight muffin-top, or Applejack’s washboard abs. Her exposed skin continued almost dangerously south, before it was mercifully stopped by a sarong, one of her dark thighs peeking out from below where she had tied the cloth in a knot.

Spike swallowed, entranced at her and the gentle chime the dozens of thin bracelets she wore on her wrists made when she adjusted herself slightly, the way he was struck dumb and held captive by her, well, everything, reminding Spike of the first time he and Twilight had met Rarity all those years back, when he was still nothing more than a child.

Any other day, and he would of ran in a blind panic away from her. Or stand exactly where he was right now, paralyzed with indecision. But he knew if he didn’t approach, he’d regret it, and, in a sense maybe, he’d be going against everything he was trying to become. Swallowing, he took one step forward, then another, his stomach twisting itself so tightly into knots that it was cramping, but he swallowed his panic, albeit barely, and moved in closer.

When he arrived near her, he realized with disdain that she stood above him, clearing him by almost half a foot. That alone made him nearly draw back in embarrassment, but he pressed forward another step, praying that she wouldn’t think he was a child not even worth a reply.

“Nice night,” he blurted out, heat turning his face almost crimson. Smooth opening, you dumb shit, he thought, already sort of wanting to curl up into a ball and die.

“Indeed,” she replied, slightly surprised that someone had spoken to her. “Lady Luna has certainly outdone herself hasn’t she?”

“Yeah,” Spike agreed. “I guess she’s apologizing for how hot Celestia made it today,” he said, nervously chuckling.

“I suppose,” she laughed, but only out of courtesy, Spike assumed. “I really see no issue, if you have lived here your entire life the temperature doesn’t really bother you.”

“I guess you can tell I’m an out-of towner, huh?” he asked. Swallowing, he offered his hand to her. “Spike. My, uh, name, that is.”

The woman looked at his hand for a moment, once more surprised at the gesture, but soon gave a warm smile that made Spike’s heart melt. “Amira,” she said, accepting his hand, the simple gesture almost enough for Spike to fall over.

“Pretty.” He paused. “Uh, your name is pre—I mean, you’re pretty too, but, uh…”

Amira couldn’t help but giggle at his stuttering, charmed in a way by his clumsiness. “Spike,” she said, forcing him to stand at attention, “it was Spike, right?”

“That’s right, A-Amira.” He rubbed at the back of his neck, taking a deep breath, forcing himself to calm down.

“Such a unique, yet simple name,” she nodded, looking into his eyes. “But simple as it may be, your name betrays your true self.”

“Betrays it?” he repeated, blinking.

“The names of most dragonkin are difficult to pronounce,” Amira explained. “Yet you have taken a simple name, one that shows humility, you could very well fool a normal person with that name if not for your eyes.”

“My family died when I was a baby, I don’t know what my real, uh, draconian name would be. Spike’s what Celestia always called me because when I was in her care my…” He held a finger up to his hair, and lifted a strand up. “It refused to comb down, from what she told me.”

Once again a warm smile greeted Spike, but this time there was a strange sense of kinship in her eyes, almost as if she completely understood exactly what he meant. “You are the one then,” she said placing her hand on his shoulder. “The one Celestia raised and then gave to her protege?”

He looked at the hand on his shoulder and did his best to calm himself down, instead focusing on Amira’s words. “I am.” Spike looked back up into her eyes. “I didn’t expect anyone to really know me, though.”

“Celestia spoke very highly of you on my visit to Equestria some years back,” Amira nodded. “It was as if I were listening to any mother speaking of her son.”

“I don’t deserve that kind of praise, but Celestia’s too kind to not give it. I don’t remember much of before Twilight taking me, but I do remember Celestia never stopped smiling.” He paused. “Sorry, I’m rambling a bit. I just haven’t really thought of that for a long, long time until you mentioned it.”

“It’s good to dwell on the past from time to time,” Amira replied. “As for the rambling, I don’t mind at all, it is nice to finally speak with someone, so I can get my mind away from certain things.”

Spike exhaled. “I understand. Sometimes a single thought can eat at you. I’ve been having that problem as of late too. I’m just lucky I have people I can talk it through with. Even if they’re kind of the problem.”

“Oh?” Amira said, her interest peaked. “The ones you confide in are the reason for your troubles? That’s certainly a conundrum.” She soon took a seat on the chair behind her, forcing Spike to use every last ounce of his willpower not to look down. “I hope I don’t sound imposing, but I would like to hear about this peculiar issue, would you take a seat so we may discuss?”

Spike complied instantly, sitting down and looking at anywhere but her. “I think I’m stuck in a rut. Maybe,” he said. “It’s, like, I see all my friends with their own dreams and ambitions and when I was younger, they were just vague ideas they were reaching for. Well, now, their dreams are within arms reach, and all I can do is watch them go off.” He swallowed. “And I’m scared they’ll forget about me. I know they say they won't, and I know they won’t, but a part of me just refuses to see that.”

Amira sat there, completely perplexed at the vast wealth of personal information devulged to her on a curious whim. “Well, I certainly didn’t expect such an open explanation.” She smiled, placing her hands in her lap. “You are a very trusting dragonkin Spike.”

“Maybe,” he admitted, frowning. “There was a man earlier that I told a lot to as well, considering we had just met. I, I don’t know why I’m saying all of it,” he admitted. “I guess where I’m from, I knew everyone, so I could afford to not shut my mouth.”

“Perhaps,” she nodded, looking to the still rising moon, “but your openness isn’t the issue, you fear that as time continues to pass you shall remain, while those you love continue on, do I have the gist of it?”

“Yeah.” He nodded after a moment. “It’s like, they have things and aspirations they want to do outside of our friends. I’m…” He narrowed his brow, glancing at the rising moon. “My aspiration is to take care of them. I don’t have a goal outside of that for myself.” He licked at his lips, still gazing at the night sky. “Which is… I wish I did, but nothing’s ever really drawn me in, I guess. And I realized something, kinda: Even with their own goals in mind, they still don’t really need me. I’m just a crybaby little brother that they can’t get rid of.”

“I’m sure you’re far more than that to them, Spike,” Amira said, tilting her head to one side. “All evidence I’ve heard points to the exact opposite.”

“I know. It’s just hard not to think that way. It’s just one of those things always on the back of my mind, like, if I screw up too much, what’s stopping them from ditching me?” He rubbed his hand. “It’s dumb, I know, but it’s what I feel.”

“My father once said that there always comes a moment in life when we doubt we will ever mean anything to anyone,” Amira said knowingly. “But that moment comes to pass when you see something that reignites the fires within your soul.” She leaned toward Spike, placing her hand on his shoulder once again. “You just need to find that something.”

“Your father sounds like a wise man,” he said, honestly a little envious. He never had anyone he could really call a father figure. If he really stretched it, he could maybe say Twilight’s older brother, Shining armor, or Applejack’s older brother Macintosh, but getting advice from one involved him being around and free from his military duties, or when it came to Mac, getting the quiet man to talk was like trying to squeeze water from a stone sometimes. He saw the hand on his shoulder once more and blushed hard, feeling the blood pumping in his temples.

“He taught me many things,” she said, removing her hand from his shoulder, “but he can’t dance to save his life.”

“Is that what you are? A dancer?” Spike questioned, looking down again at her bare stomach.

“In a sense.” Amira shrugged. “As in I know how to. Do you know how to dance?”

“Only a little,” he admitted. “Rarity taught me how to do some basic ballroom dancing when I was younger.”

“Dancing is a wonderful way to take your mind off the present,” Amira said, standing up and forcing Spike’s eyes to fall directly on her chest. He quickly averted, but in doing so he failed to see the woman extend her hand in his direction. “Care to join me?”

“Me?” he asked, unbelieving, actually taking a moment to glance behind him in confirmation. “Uh, yeah. Sure, just… if it’s anything too fancy, you’ll need to lead.”

“I’ll try not to confuse you.” Amira laughed, taking his hand. “Are you ready?”

“Sure!” Spike agreed instantly, the conversation with Amira going better than he could ever have hoped.

“A hidden enthusiasm makes itself known,” she giggled. “Hopefully it remains, I do enjoy it far more than your sadness.”

“I do too,” he agreed, smiling a little at her laugh. “And I’m normally not the kind of guy to think about stuff like that too hard, but I guess it just all hit me at once the past few days, you know?”

“I understand, there are always times that one contemplates their lives extensively.” Amira smiled once more and cocked her brow as she gave Spike a playful tug on his hand. “But are you done stalling? The dance floor is starting to fill.”

“Oh! Yeah. Let’s go,” he said, quickly nodding before she could change her mind.

Amira slowly lead Spike to the dance floor, making Spike somewhat regret his decision. He really didn’t feel like making an ass out of himself in front of everyone, but most of all he didn’t want to embarrass himself in front the beautiful woman leading him there. He already assumed that he had no chance with her, she was way beyond his league in his opinion. He just wanted to have these next few minutes to go by as good as they had when he began talking to her, and doing something foolish would have ruined the entire experience.

“Now,” Amira said placing her hand on his hip as traditional ballroom music began to play. “Your friend taught you enough for at least one complete dance, correct?”

“I, I think so, yeah,” Spike tepidly agreed, his hands hesitating inches away from her body before he swallowed, swearing inwardly once more at his height as he took a more feminine position in the dance, reaching up to her shoulder while her hand rested near his hip. “If it’s a slower song I can manage.”

“I don’t think that will be an issue,” Amira nodded, taking one of Spike’s hands and holding it. “Shall we begin?”

He took a step forward, coaxing her back and continuing in a simple, albeit at least functioning box step, mentally timing his steps to flow in time with the music and doing his best to distract himself away from her scent, one of honeysuckle and cinnamon.

“How am I doing?” he questioned, glancing up at her face for a fleeting moment, before retreating to the safety of their hands. “Not up to snuff compared to what you’re used to, I bet.”

“You’re doing just fine,” she replied, taking her hand off his hip for a moment so she could make him look at her once more. “When dancing it’s best to simply let the music flow with you.”

“I’ll try to remember that,” Spike said, nodding like it was the best words he had ever heard. After a moment, he gathered up the courage to ask her a question: “What made you want to dance with me?”

Amira smiled, releasing her grip from his hand and placing her now free hand on his jawline. “Allow me to ask something in return Spike,” she said, staring him square in his eyes. “What have you thought about since I asked you?”

“Asked me what?” Spike questioned, caught off guard at her touch on his face.

“To dance of course.” Amira laughed. “Have the troubles that plagued your mind once made themselves known?”

“No, nothing like that,” Spike countered. “I’ve just been thinking about how to not look stupid in front of someone as—oh.” The realization hit him like a train. “That’s why?”

“Yes,” Amira answered, leaning into Spike closer. “As I said before, dance is a wonderful way to forget your present troubles.” Without warning, she pressed her beautiful, full lips on his forehead, catching him completely off guard. “Now shall we continue to ease your troubled thoughts?”

He tightened his grip on her hand briefly at the kiss, embarrassed at the action and surprised at it as well. “I-I mean, yes. If you want.”

“Of course.” Amira nodded, setting herself up so they could continue. “You may lead.”

He offered another embarrassed smile and did just that, guiding her through another simple dance maneuver, only this time, gathering the courage to give her a small dip. A surprised laughed escaped her lips as Spike brought her back up, her smile making him more confident by the second. Minutes passed and the two were still on the floor, completely lost in the music as they swayed in step with the beat.

“You led me to believe you weren’t able to dance well,” Amira chimed, coming back up from another dip. “You’ve done very well thus far.”

“You gave me confidence,” Spike honestly answered. “I don’t know how you’re able to do that so well.”

“Perhaps that confidence always resided inside you,” she retorted, smiling widely as they spun around slowly. “You simply may have needed the right person to set it free.”

“You really know how to give a guy a big head,” Spike replied, his own smile matching hers. “Your mind is as beautiful as your body.” He winced a little in embarrassment at his words, but after a moment, his damn foolish grin returned.

“Quite the charmer too I see.” Amira grinned as the music began to die.

“A charmer would just tell you what you want to hear. You said I was honest earlier,” he replied.

“Indeed I did.” She nodded, staring him in the eyes once more. “And when it comes to appearance, you certainly have been blessed yourself.”

“Maybe if I wanted to attract underage girls. I look too much like a boy.” He let out a tsk. “I mean, I have to look up at you if I want to see your eyes.”

“Size means nothing, Spike,” Amira said, running a hand through his hair. “The exterior does help, no one can deny that fact, but what truly matters is one’s heart.” Her hand slowly traveled from the top of his head, past his ear, across his jaw line and finally resting under his chin. “And from what I’ve seen, yours is quite beautiful.”

That seemed to actually disarm him. He felt a small sting of tears at her words and he smiled up at her with a childlike enthusiasm. “Not as beautiful as yours,” he replied, without a trace of doubt.

Amira smiled once again, but this time pulling him into her body. Spike normally would instantly become tense at such an action, but in the short amount of time they had spent together he seemed to have just felt right to him. Without a moment’s hesitation Spike wrapped his arms around her waist, feeling for the first time just how soft her skin felt. It seemed even smoother than the fine silk that covered the rest of her body.

“Amira…” he trailed off, mesmerized by her touch, her feel, her words, everything.

“Spike,” she answered as her hands traveled up his back. “You’re—”

The music picked up once more, but this time it was completely different. Instead of sounding like the Equestrian waltz, like Spike was familiar was used to, it sounded something he would have actually expected from this region, and the part that seemed to unnerve him was that the pace was quickening. Spike’s eyes traveled to Amira’s face, her eyes were in the direction of the band and her lower lip was sensually being held between her teeth. Soon enough she looked back down to him, ending her embrace by placing her hands on his shoulders.

“You showed me how you danced.” She beamed, standing tall with otherworldly confidence. “But allow me to show you how we Saddle Arabians dance.”

Amira gently pushed Spike away from the dance floor, much to his dismay, but before he could object he saw a few women dressed in the same fashion as her took the floor as well. Not that it really mattered to him, his focused remained on Amira and the sound of the drums that started to pound faster with every second.

“I’ve never really done anything like this before,” he stammered out in a blind panic, his nerves getting the better of him as he continued to stare at Amira. “I-I mean I’ve seen tapes, but, I don’t think they’re accurate—I know I’m not that—”

“What are you speaking of?” Amira questioned. “In Saddle Arabia, the women dance.”

“You mean dance dance. Oh thank the gods,” Spike muttered under his breath.

Amira placed Spike on a chair near the dance floor and with a quick twirl she returned to the floor, flanked by women that almost matched her beauty. Looking to either direction they nodded at one another before looking straight forward, or in Amira’s case, square into Spike’s eyes. Suddenly the music stopped, prompting a confused look from Spike, but in an instant the drums sounded again Amira and her fellow dancers struck a pose that nearly stopped his heart. Their arms shot into the air as their backs arched, leaning back as if they were in the throes of ecstasy, their breasts amplified by the act. Amira trailed a finger down her chin, in between her cleavage, then to her bellybutton, never taking her eyes off of Spike. She let a hand cross from her stomach to her side, smiling all the while.

Those to either side mirrored the action in perfect unison, but Spike was far too concentrated on the one directly before him to give them a second thought. The music quickly began to begin again prompting Amira and her counterparts to move in unison. The silk that trailed along her body flew into the air with every movement, amplifying the sheer awe of the spectacle. Every beat of the drums prompted Amira’s hips to move in the most seductive of ways, side to side, back and forth her body swayed, each time becoming even more alluring with every position.

Spike only absently realized his jaw was open. Yet he made no attempt to shut it, wanting nothing to break the spell she had cast over him in her sublime beauty.

The drums continued to beat, and Amira continued to dance, sweat beads starting to form on her stomach, some even trailing down to the lower half of her dress. Taking the transparent scarf that was wrapped around her neck she began to use it as a makeshift flag, further emphasizing every movement she made.

“Amira,” he breathed out, swallowing at her every gesture, every small action.

Amira suddenly approached him, as if she had heard his silent calls of longing. Her body continued to flow with the beat as she glided towards him, stopping only when she was within an arm’s reach. Allowing Spike to take in every single sensual, beautiful detail of her body in motion.

His head throbbed as he stared at her, drunk off the poetry she wrote with her body. He let out a small, pleased moan at the woman, desire obvious on his face as he briefly shut his eyes in order to remind himself to breath. He self-consciously crossed his legs, letting himself have at least an ounce of dignity as she turned him into mushed clay.

Taking advantage of the moment Amira flung her scarf around his neck, wrapping the loose end around her other hand she effectively controlled where his attention would lay. Her back arched once again, this time pushing her chest what seemed like mere inches from Spike’s face. Again while he was distracted, she slid onto his lap as the music suddenly stopped.

Looking to Spike squarely in the eyes as sweat dripped off her body, Amira’s heavy breath washed over Spike’s face. There came, for a brief moment, a green spark to his cat-like eyes. Without his normal hesitation, Spike’s hands reached forward, resting on the woman’s knees and the erection he so desperately tried to hide earlier showed, making a small tent under the fabric of his pants. He breathed out a lustful pant and bit at his lip with teeth that seemed slightly sharper than moments before as his hands wandered upwards, to her thighs.

As quick as it came, it left, the emerald spark gone, instead replaced with the wide, innocent eyes of the boy again. He looked down to where his hands sat and apologized, blushing. Then, once he noticed his engorged shaft, and how it was resting dangerously close to Amira’s womanhood, he froze, his apologies dead on his lips at the shock and embarrassment.

“I…” he finally stammered out, the first word that came from him to make sense.

“Don’t be...” Amira sighed, dragging a hand through his hair before resting it on the back of his head.

“That was… amazing,” he said, refusing to look anywhere but her eyes as he caught his breath. A part of him was starting to think he got more of a workout than her when it came to the dance. “You’re amazing.”

Amira’s free hand slowly traveled to his chest, resting only when her hand fell on his fast beating heart. “As are you,” she said leaning into him again. “As are you.”

He ran on instinct, reaching up to put his hand on her back, the fact she was dangerously close to him and the fact that his manhood still refused to retreat back briefly forgotten as he held her, for the moment his lust for her body sated, and instead came a longing for companionship. For her to speak. For him to know her.

“Amira…” He weakly smiled, bravely taking to running his hand gently across her shoulders. “Just saying your name’s nice, Amira. Your family made the right call.”

“No one has ever spoken so highly of my name before,” Amira sighed, pausing inches away from his lips. “It’s most pleasing that I can bring you happiness by a simple word.”

He swallowed deeply, staring at her lips. Spike felt the maddening urge to kiss her, but at the same time refused. It was naive, childish even, but he didn’t want a kiss like that to be a lusting one. He wanted it to be something really worthwhile, something that was a connection between them, a promise. So instead, he blushed and turned his head, offering his cheek to her.

Amira tilted her head with a knowing smile before quickly, yet gently, placing her lips on the cheek presented, sending a wave of warmth through Spike’s body. After her lips parted from him, he turned to face her yet again, only now his entire face was flushed red with embarrassment.

Spike let one more wave of courage come to him and he quickly blurted out, oblivious of his surroundings. “Can I do the same?”

A brief laugh came from Amira’s lips before her eyes fell squarely on his once more. “Of course,” she nodded, presenting her cheek to him.

He smiled up at her and leaned forward, giving her soft cheek a delicate peck, realizing after the fact that he could taste the salt of her sweat on his lips. And he loved it.

“S-Spike!” a familiar, yet heavily slurred voice called out, ripping him off of cloud nine like a harpoon. “Spike!”

He froze, looking as helpless as a drowning man, before turning to glance towards the voice. A part of him debated on keeping silent, just to see if the voice would pass.

“Spike!” the voice called again, this time accompanied by the sound of a chair falling over and a glass tipping onto the counter.

He grimaced, finally accepting the end. “Yeah?” he called out.

“Help me!” she slurred out. “I-I made a horrible mishtake!”

“G-get Applejack to help!” he countered. “I’m in the middle of something.”

“She left with Rare ten minutes ago!”

“Fluttershy?” he asked, desperately trying to cling to the moment with Amira.

“She’s tha problem!”

“Twilight?”

“Jus’ help me!”

“Pink—oh who am I kidding on that one?” he said to himself. Spike looked once more at Amira. “I need to go help my friend. Can you wait for me?”

“I will.” Amira nodded, rising to her feet. “Go to your friend, she seems to need you in more ways then one.”

Spike shot up. “Yeah, I’ll go. And I’ll be right back.” He took off, nearly running through the bar to find Dash.

When he finally found Rainbow his eyes almost popped out of his head at what he saw. She was on her back, fighting off a certain pink haired woman who was no longer wearing her shirt, or undershirt for that matter.

“What the—” Spike put a hand up to his forehead and took a few steps around, looking to see if anyone caught on. “Guys. Really? Here?”

“Don’t jus’ stand there!” Rainbow slurred, briefly reaching a hand in his direction before throwing back in its former position to block Fluttershy’s drunken affections. “Help!”

Spike quickly took her hand and pulled, tugging desperately at Dash to pull her away. “Fluttershy, stop,” he ordered.

“S-she’s so… hot,” Fluttershy stuttered, wrapping her arms around Dash’s waist. “I want to… my mouth…”

“No you don’t,” Spike argued. “You’re just really drunk. You know Dash isn’t into… what you’re into,” he finished, scratching at his nose. He looked at her, the sight of her nearly nude doing nothing to him, it having happened before in the past, and Spike thinking of her as much of a sister as Twilight really killed any sort of eroticism he could be feeling. “How did you even get this wasted? Weren’t you supposed to be controlling yourself?”

“Rainbow was so sweet…” she replied attempting, and failing, to take off Dash’s pants. “She got me appletinis!”

“Man, where’s Twilight when you need her?” Spike swore, reaching to grab Fluttershy and pull her off.

“I didn’t think it’d get that bad!” Rainbow suddenly blurted out. “I thought it wasn’t that much!”

“Come on, Fluttershy,” he instructed, looking around once more. Thankfully, the few remaining patrons were lost in a scenario much like the one Fluttershy and Dash found themselves in, and paid both of them no mind. Thank the gods this wasn’t out in the streets, though. “Not while we’re in Arabia, please.”

“I only put three shots in her drinks!” Dash continued, ignoring Spike completely. “One-five-one isn’t even strong!”

Spike had no idea if it was or not. But he could guess. “You’re so stupid. I should just leave you like this,” he snapped.

“No!” Rainbow pleaded, desperately grabbing at his arm. “I’m so sorry! Sorry! Okay?!”

“And how will you make it up to me?” Spike asked.

“A hundred bits!” she said desperately. “or two hundred! Jus’ help!”

“Ok.” He cleared his throat. “I think I saw Twilight looking for you earlier, Fluttershy.”

“T-Twilight?” Fluttershy said, popping up to her knees. “R-really?”

“Completely.” He nodded. “I mean, I think you should just put on your shirt, hunt her down, and get somewhere quiet where you won’t cause trouble.”

“M-my shirt?” Fluttershy said looking down to a bright blue frilly bra. “Oh my goodness!” She immediately wrapped herself up in her arms, squishing her bulbous mounds to the point where they nearly popped out all together. “I need to leave… right now!”

“P-put your shirt on at least!” he begged. “I don’t want anyone to get any ideas around you!”

“R-right…” Fluttershy nodded, looking around the area, unsteadily reaching around in an attempt to feel for her missing shirt.

“Just…” he sighed, moving to her shirt then putting it over her head, guiding first one arm, than the other. A quick reach around her to pull her hair free, and Spike gave a satisfied nod. “There.”

“Thank you Spike,” Fluttershy smiled, wrapping her arms around his neck. “Where would we be without you?”

He returned the smile, giving her a small pat on the stomach. “I don’t know,” he honestly replied. “But it couldn’t be anywhere good.”

Fluttershy slowly staggered to her feet, using Spike as a post to balance. “I guess we should be going,” Fluttershy tried to take a step, but she nearly fell over, in fact if not for Spike acting as a post, she would have fallen flat on her face. “B-but maybe you could takes us?”

He looked over to where Amira still waited for him, then back to the two drunk women. Finally, he sighed. “Yeah. I’ll take you girls to your room. Just… give me a sec, alright?”

“We’ll be here,” Fluttershy nodded, plopping onto a seat. “Take your time.”

He turned, moving back to where he had been moments before with the foreign beauty. “Amira,” Spike called out.

The call of her name brought her attention to the young man making his way to her. The smile on her face only grew with each step he took towards her, until finally he stood before her. However her smile became a concerned frown when she saw that Spike seemed to not share her enthusiasm.

“Something troubling you?” she asked, placing her hand on his shoulder.

“I have to leave. My friends are pretty out of it. I’m not sure if they could make it back without my help,” he answered, looking down at his feet.

“You’re friends are very fortunate to have you, Spike,” Amira nodded, looking over to the two women he assumed were the ones in question. “Especially now.”

“Is there any way I can see you again?” he asked, a small tinge of desperation in his voice.

“Of course,” Amira answered, placing a hand on his head. “All you need to do is find me.”

“Where?” Spike questioned.

“You’ll know when you see it.” She nodded, giving him a quick wink before she turned to the entryway. “It was truly wonderful meeting you Spike.”

“You too… Amira,” he answered, giving a weak, half-hearted wave her direction.

Amira silently waved back before exiting the casbah with a handful of others, leaving Spike to stand alone in the middle of the empty room. He really wished she wasn’t so cryptic with him, but he did expect something along those lines coming from her.

“Spike!” Rainbow called out, bringing him back to the real world. “You ready yet?!”

“Yeah.” He stared after Amira until she was gone from his view, then turned back to his friends. “Let’s go.”