Back Stories, chapter 1: the Drake, the Unicorn, and a Ring.

Time frame: 6 years, 5 months, 14 days until Day One.

Manehattan was always a bustling place. But during fashion week, it was even busier, teeming with up-and-coming designers coming in from all of Equestria, though most of them would leave disappointed. One unicorn, however, was quite positive that she would take home first prize; her name was Rarity. And plodding steadily alongside her were Spike, her fearsome dragon bodyguard, and Apple Bloom, who had become Rarity’s apprentice two years ago.

“Spike, hurry up darling. We don’t want to miss the registration.”

“Right, I’m going as fast as I can,” Spike grunted, once again having to carry all of the luggage. That was okay, though. Even though he was only slightly taller, he was at least three times stronger than the ponies, so it wasn’t that hard. In fact, he really only had one problem. “Sweet Celestia it’s cold here…”

“Aw, c’mon Spike don’t be such a baby! It’s not that cold.”

“Apple Bloom, I’m a reptile. That means I’m cold blooded,” he countered, giving the young mare a deadpan glare. “Hey, Rarity, aren’t we supposed to meat up with what's-her-name soon?”

“Coco, dear. Her name is Coco Pommel. But, indeed, we are meeting her at the hotel later. She’s such a dear, paying for our suite like that,” the dressmaker said cheerfully, practically bouncing with energy. Spike didn’t know Coco that well, so he couldn’t say much about her. Rarity, however, seemed to be rather close with the mare.

“Yeah, that place is pretty pricy. What I wanna know, is how anypony can afford it. I mean, 400 bit’s a night…”

“Bloom, dear, I believe you’ve never met Coco. She runs a successful fashion company here in Manehattan. She’s got more than financial stability, she’s practically anchored down!" she practically sang. Spike loved when she got excited like this. When she was happy, so was he. While Rarity didn’t return his affections, he was just happy that he could be near her, happy that she relied on him, and happy that he could help her.

They were coming up on the building now. It was the same as it always was. Almost.

“Target sighted. Clear shot presented. Proceeding to eliminate.”

Spike saw it first. A massive bolt of arcane energy flying straight at Rarity’s head. It seemed like it was moving so slowly… Spike realized that everything had slowed down. But that wasn’t important. Dropping the luggage, he rammed his shoulder into Rarity, and forced her out of the way.

“Spike! What are you d-” she said, never finishing the sentence. What she was seeing warranted no words. Only her scream was heard as she watched the drake fall to the ground, the arcane bolt blasting through his shoulder. She recognized the type of spell; it was toxin magic. It was intended to infect the victim‘s body, ensuring a slow death for those as strong as a dragon. It would have been quicker for a pony…

He felt himself drifting into the dark. This was it, huh? Too bad. He would’ve liked to marry her. But dying for her was okay by him. A lot cooler, too.

“Spike NO!!"

>X<

“I’m sorry miss, there’s no cure for the spell. We’ve searched through every file we have, and we can’t find anything that even remotely resembles this.”

“Idiot doctor! You’re just not looking hard enough! If that dragon dies, I will own your sorry plot!”

Who was shouting? It almost sounded like… No way. She was way too ladylike to be that vicious. But then, she did have a bit of a temper didn’t she? Rarity always was pretty feisty when those she cared for were in trouble. Wait… hadn’t he died? What’s more, where was he? White walls, white ceilings, curtains… he was in a hospital. So he was alive... That was good.

“Ma’am, you need to calm down! No, don’t go in there!” somepony with a funny accent ordered. Yeah, because Rarity always listened when she was angry. He let himself chuckle a bit, as he struggled to sit up. Funny, he couldn’t use his right arm. It just kind of hung there like a limp noodle.

“I’m going to see him, and nopony, not even the police, is going to stop me!” she shouted, as the curtain was violently yanked open. Even if he hadn’t heard the shouting, just looking at her would tell him that she was distraught. Her face was twisted and snarling, and her mascara had run down her muzzle and onto her neck, and her nose was slightly runny.

“Hey now, there’s a hell of a face to wake up to. What’s got you so worked up?” he said, smiling at her. Obviously, she was upset about him, but whatever. Small talk and stuff.

“You Stupid MULE OF A DRAGON!!! YOU… you could’ve… you could’ve died….” she said, all but whimpering the last part. Her expression changed radically, from rage to sheer despair. Her brow un-furrowed and her lips started quivering and she sniffed heavily. “You… Idiot… it was supposed to hit me…”

“Psh, you know I couldn’t let that happen,” he said softly, still smiling at her, trying to make her feel a little better. But it obviously didn’t work, as she lurched forward and threw her forelegs around his neck, careful to avoid the bandaged shoulder, and burst into heaving sobs. “Hey, easy now. I’m alive, right?”

“Maybe not for long. You’re sick, or rather, poisoned. Most ponies would be dead in your position,” the doctor said, choosing this moment to intrude on them. “And judging from the blood samples we took, you’ve not got very long. A week at best.”

“I see. That, uh… That really sucks.” Spike stated, his voice somewhat shaky. “So, did they get the attacker?”

“No sonny, he got away. Chased him down six blocks, but the tricky bastard still got a way,” a stallion said from off to the side. He wore a police uniform, and had a thick mustache. “Names O’Shire. Chief of police." He held out his hoof for a bump, which Spike slowly returned.

"Chief, did you get any identifying features?" he asked, stroking the rarity's mane, in a vain attempt to sooth her.

“Short of a curved horn, and a blue tail, none. Sorry, boy-o,” the chief said, removing his hat. “Fiend wore some tactical lookin’  gear. I’d wager they were a professional.”

“Then Rarity’s not safe. Can I request a police guard?” he said, standing up, gingerly letting the pale mare go.

“O’ course ya can, but it wouldn’t do ya no good... Cuz we were plannin on providin one anyway,” he said with a hardy laugh. “I’m sorry, that’s not funny. But you two will be under constant surveillance.”

“That’s good to know.”

>X<

Three days later:

Spike was returning from another night of wandering the city. He had come to accept that he was dying. Why fight it? He was now content to live his last few days in peace. He briefly stopped to look at himself in a window. Celestia, he looked like shit. Eyes sunken in and bloodshot, cheekbones showing through his scales. Those once shining purple scales were now dull and faded, and some had even started falling out. His proud spines had grown soft and most had broken. That was okay. They would disintegrate a few days after he perished anyways. Couple all of this with his attire, a black trench coat and a wide brimmed fedora, and he looked like a regular creeper. Or maybe junkie? Didn’t really matter. Looking like shit meant you looked like shit, no matter what kind of shit it was.

The wound on his shoulder started to burn. It wouldn’t have been surprising, if he were alone. He often felt that sensation when the wound was stretched the wrong way. But he wasn’t alone. There was a green mare standing obstinately in front of him, with a red aura glowing around her… curved… horn… She had a blue tail, too. Her cutie mark was a sniper scope reticule. Had black saddle bags on.

“Sorry, beast, but you won’t get in my way again.”

“Pretty bold, not wearing full gear… Funny thing is, I was just thinking about you. Why’d you do it?”

“Bits. Twenty thousand.”

“That’s pretty hefty.” he replied, falling to one knee. “Wonder- hhhnnng- who can- hah- afford that?”

“Like I’m going to tell you. Nice try though. You’re going to die without ever knowing who wanted Rarity dead.” the mare responded with a smirk. Pretty smart.

“Well, ah, can I get your name?” he asked, finally keeling over to the side.

“I suppose I can give you that. My name is Sharp Shot.” She proclaimed proudly.

“And that's all I needed,” Spike stated, standing back up. She looked flabbergasted. “Your specialty is poisons and toxin spells. Your one of Manehattan PD’s most wanted. Oh I know all about you, now. Been doing my research.”

And he had, too. But he had done more than read through old police reports. He had been investigating. Designers and tailors had been disappearing all over the country, and every lead he got pointed right back to this little unicorn. It had been easy enough to get her bank account information, too. Hundreds of thousands of bits transferred in over the last two months. The time frame corresponded perfectly to the deaths in the fashion industry. Only one question remained. Who was she working for?

Sharp Shot started backing up, intent on running away, but she was stopped by a claw wrapping around her horn. Spike understood that breaking her horn would be a fate worse than death for her. That was good; it might give her a bit of incentive.

“This horn fits well in my claw.”

“No…”

“Maybe I should take it?”

“Celestia no…” the assassin whimpered, as she felt the claw tighten.

“Sorry, the Princess can’t help you now. But you can help yourself,” he said, maintaining a wickedly blank expression. He started to apply a bit of force in the direction on the horn’s curve. “Here’s the deal: you tell me where the boss is, and I don’t break it.”

“You’re bluffing!” she screamed, tears welling in her eyes.

“That's the funny thing about these curved ones, right? They look pretty cool and all, but they’re way more likely to break than a straight one,” he whispered to her.

CRACK!

The sound was deafening in the silent street, as the first hairline crack formed across the protruding bone.

“She’s in the warehouse district, building twelve! Please! Let me go! I’ll give up all the bits I ma…”

SNAP!

“Should’ve answered sooner.” he said, snatching her saddle bags off, then started walking away.

“But… I answered… before you broke it… you’re… a monster…” the mare whimpered, then burst into tears, and collapsed to the ground.

“Maybe I am..." He turned back to the now broken mare. "Here's the thing, Sharp. I didn't start this... but you can bet your plot I'm finishing it.”

>X<

“This notebook, it’s got everything we need!” he said, holding up the little booklet he had gotten from Sharp Shot’s bags. “Dozens of jobs, all commissioned by the same pony.”

The chief sighed, and looked at the book. Sure enough, there were at least 37, all by the same name. “You’re sure about this Polomare pony?”

“Yes! A few years back, she ruined herself, with this stupid scheme of hers. Once Coco Pommel started telling ponies, she got blacklisted. Couldn’t get any business. It only makes sense!” he said, practically shouted. He wished he could say he hadn’t expected this from Suri, but he had. She’d been willing to do whatever it took to get ahead. Lying, cheating, stealing... Why should murder be any different for her?

“I suppose…  t’would explain all the disappearances across Equestria. But ya didn’t have to break that poor mare’s horn,” O'Shire said, looking forlornly at the broken unicorn in the cell.

“She brought it on herself. Now, we have a deal, right? I go get Polomare, and Rarity never hears a word of it?”

“Aye. The deal stands. Just, be careful boy-o,” the chief said, giving the dragon a bulletproof vest. “Should stop some mild magic too.”

“Thanks,” Spike replied, slipping out of his coat, then donned the vest, and redressed himself. It didn’t stand out too much. That was good.

>X<

“Looks like Sharp Shot failed. That’s too bad. She was a damn good assassin,” the pink mare said, scurrying about in the middle of her temporary residence, namely, warehouse twelve. The building was cold, and the humidity was wreaking havoc on her hair. But it wouldn‘t be a problem for long, because it was about time to get the buck out of town. “And of course it had to be Rarity, that stuck up bitch. Why can’t anypony ever do their job right?”

Of course, she was talking to herself. After all, there was hardly anypony willing to work for her, not after Coco’s betrayal. She was supposed to be next. But the real question was, how did that stupid dragon figure out the assassins identity? It was the tail, had to be. Suri had told her to hide it. But no! don’t listen to your employer! Do it your own way, stupid mare!

Suri grunted loudly as she pressed down on her suitcase, forcing so many unnecessary articles of clothing into it. With a satisfying click, it clasped shut. That was good, now she only had a few more to pack. She wouldn’t get the chance.

“Well, heya there Polomare. Planning a vaycay? You should let me help with that,” he said from the front, leaning against the door frame. “What’s wrong? You seem surprised.”

“I… I am surprised. I thought the police would be coming,” she said, calmly backing away towards a small bag on one of the crates. It had a small knife in it. Maybe she could…

BANG!

The bag fell out of her reach, having been shot off the crate. He casually stepped in, holding at his side a revolver handgun. “The police might’ve come. But they can’t get their hands dirty like I can. They want this whole ‘dead fashionista’ thing kept under wraps. That’s were I come in. I take you down, and the whole thing gets swept under a rug.”

“But… you can’t do this! You’re…” she trailed off, as the drake reached her, and put his gun to her head.

“You know,” he said, nonchalantly pulling the gun back and glancing over it's length. “These things are griffin made, and I'll tell ya, they're pretty buckin hard to find. Searched like, five pawn shops to find it. Only got three shots, too. Well, two now, but you get the idea.”

“How are you not crippled by the poison?! You should be on the ground, writhing in pain!” she shouted, backing up into a crate.

“Oh it’s very simple. That spell isn’t new, it’s been around for years. There’s a cure spell and everything!” he explained, then burst into a throaty laugh. “You seem a little scared.”

“You’re going to kill me!” she screamed, as tears began streaming down her muzzle.

“Nah. You’ll be hobbling for the rest of your life in prison, but besides that, you’ll be fine." He paused, and leaned in close to the criminal. "Now, RUN.”

She did as she was told, and bolted for the door, and almost made it, until a loud bang and a brutal pain in her left foreleg caused her to fall on her face, and tumble several times. She had been so close... Another dozen hooves, then she could’ve turned the corner and got away. Instead, she lay with her front half out the door, and her rump inside.

>X<

Rarity stood watching as Suri flopped halfway out the door. It looked like a nasty tumble. What was going on? She had been on her way over to warn her about the  fashion killer after doing some research, but two loud bangs had made her stop. Was she too late? It seemed that way, with the blood pooling around her foreleg. She looked straight up at Rarity.

“Please… Help me…” she whimpered.

The unicorn galloped up, but stopped short when her old rival was abruptly dragged back inside with a scream. She took a deep swallow, mustering some nerve. “Suri…?”

“Suri Polomare, I‘m afraid this is the end for you!” That was… No.

“Spike? Is that you?” she asked slowly rounding the corner into the door. She gasped, horrified at what she saw. Spike, snarling, stood with his foot on Suri’s shoulder, and in his good hand, he held a revolver pointed at her head. “SPIKE! What in Celestia’s  name are you doing?!”

“R-Rarity! It’s not what it looks like!” he shouted, dropping his gun and taking a step towards her. “Please, listen to me…”

“No! It... it was you all along, wasn't it? The frequent vacations... the interest in weapons... you were the fashion killer...” Tears started streaming down her face as the dragon took a slow step forward, prompting the love of his life to clumsily back out of the door. “I… I… I hate you… you monster”

“Rarity PLEASE!” too late. She was gone, galloping away as fast as her legs would carry her. Spike turned and face his quarry. “Suri… This is all your fault.”

“Oh don’t pin this on me. You could've arrested me without shooting." she sneered at him through her pain. "YOU overdid it."

“Doesn’t matter. Once your wound is bound, I’m dropping you off with Chief,” he said, pulling a roll of bandages out of his coat pocket. “I should’ve killed you, Suri. I should have told the chief you fought back, and left me no choice.”

“Why didn't you?" she asked, as the drake lifted her foreleg and began wrapping it in the cream colored cloth.

“Because Rarity would've hated me for it,” he said simply, and tied off the bandage.

“Funny how that worked ou- agh!” She was cut off by a hard punch to the forehead.

“Shut up bitch.” he commanded, and finished the binding. He hoisted her up and carried her to a nearby carriage.

“Hey, you got her! Nice work,” the driver, an enthusiastic cadet, proclaimed as the drake unceremoniously dumped the criminal into the a large trunk, and shut the lid.

“Shut up and drive. Quickest route,” he said blandly, climbing aboard.

“Right-o Detective.”

>X<

Rarity stumbled into the police precinct her eyes darting back and forth, looking for O’Shire. “Where’s the Chief?!” she screamed, tears still streaming down her face.

“Easy lass, I’m right beside you. What’s got ya so worked up?” he asked, gingerly placing a hoof on the distraught mare’s shoulder.

“It’s Spike! He’s the one who- Mph!” the chief smushed his other hoof against her mouth.

“My office.”

>X<

“So… He’s not the killer?” she said, wiping her eyes for the hundredth time. “He was… He was working for you…”

“Exactly,” the Chief replied, scratching his forehead with  a hoof. The had both explained their situations to one another, and they had finally, two hours later, come to an understanding. The poor lass had been so upset, that she couldn’t process rational though. But now, here they were.

“Were is he now?” she said, her voice hoarse from crying.

“Don’t rightly know, ma’am. Said something about Baltimare, though,” the Chief replied, taking a sip of his coffee.

“Oh Celestia, I need to find him!” she exclaimed, and barreled out of the office like a buffalo.

“Yeah, so, you're welcome, ya ungrateful mare.”

>X<

It was early in the morning before she finally caught him

The boat was almost in, and he tapped his clawed foot impatiently. “For Celestia’s fat flanks, can’t that tub get here any faster?!” he growled, drawing some stares from the ponies around him.

“Gee, sir, Quite a colorful phrase there,” the papercolt said, as he handed out newspapers to the waiting crowd.

“Can it foal. I’m SO not in the mood,” he said, glaring at the colt, making him recoil from the anger in his eyes.

“Well, you may have lost the love of your life, but that’s no excuse to be rude to a young entrepreneur,” a silky voice said from behind him. He knew who it was. He didn’t want to look at her, so he stared at the river.

“Why are you here?” he said after a few agonizing minutes.

“Why, I came to apologize. I should’ve stayed and listened to your side of the story. I jumped to conclusions, and I’m sorry…” she said, gently placing a hoof on his good hand. He moved it out of the way and used it to scratch his bandaged shoulder. “I care about you, Spike. Immensely. You’ve always been there for me, even for the most trivial tasks...”

“And? Spit it out!” he snapped, drawing the full attention of the crowd. "My boat's almost here."

The mare sighed, and stepped up beside him, but he still refused to look at her. “I often find myself wondering, ‘What if he gets tired of being denied? What if he fell for another, younger mare?’ And every time I think about it, it tears at my heart like an angry cat. The thought of you leaving was always so hard to imagine… but now that it’s happening…” she stopped for a minute and pulled something out of her small bag. “I can see now that it was all my fault. So I want you to have these. I… I was going to give you the big one after fashion week was over, but I suppose you should have them all.”

She levitated two small black felt boxes in front of him. He grabbed the biggest one and flicked it open. He grit his teeth. “It's an engagement ring.”

“Indeed.”

“You think…” he turned on the spot and glared at her hatefully. “You think you can just go accusing me like that, buy me some trinket, and that'll make it all go away?! I don’t think so! You done bucked up Rarity! I’ve had it! I’m tired of chasing you around like a lost puppy! I'm… just, done. It's over.”

Her face sunk. Of course he was sick of it. Who wouldn‘t be? She certainly understood the sentiment. “The receipt is in the other box,” she said dejectedly and dropped the box of two wedding bands on the ground, before turning to trot away. Didn’t matter if they got damaged now. He hated her now, and it was all her fault. Why would he agree to marry her at this point?

He picked the box up and carefully examined the slip of paper. “A month ago? Explain.” His tone was still sharp and angry, but he sounded like he was calming down a little bit.

“I’ve been… locking these feeling of mine away for a couple of years, now. Feelings for you, Spike. At first, I did it because you were young. Far too young to be with an older mare like me. But you reached maturity soon afterwards. I still kept them hidden away, but it was out of fear. What in Equestria I was so afraid of, I’ll never know… I can tell it’s still there, because it’s telling me to run away. But now, I’m more afraid of losing you, Spike. Please… Don’t leave me…” she whispered the last part, a few tears rolling down her face, and a soft smile formed on her lips. Spike suddenly realized she wasn’t wearing make up, or eyelashes, and her mane was straight. It was natural. It floated violently in the river’s strong breeze, showing that there wasn't any product in it at all. She hadn’t taken time to get ready before being seen in public. But somehow, she was still the most beautiful mare in the world. And it occurred to him, that she was serious. If the rings were from a month ago, then she couldn’t be doing this just to make him feel better.

“You hurt me, Rarity," he said, pulling the engagement ring out of its box, and slid it on his claw. “I could just throw this in the river. But I won’t. In time, I can forgive you. Not now, but in time. But I want you to know, I will always love you, Rarity.”

“Oh… Spike! I love you too! So very much!” She hollered, throwing her forelegs around his neck again. This elicited an ‘awe’ from the onlookers.

Things were going to be a-ok for the drake and the unicorn.

>X<

It would happen, that ‘in time’ would pass in a couple of months, and they soon married. It was a lavish affair, expensive decorations, cake, and even pricier wine. They said their I do’s Spike carried his new wife out to the carriage, and they rode away to their new home together. And more importantly, as Rainbow Dash had so crudely and accurately suggested, their new bed.

Suri Polomare was now serving life in prison, charged with soliciting murder and resisting arrest, while Sharp Shot was sentenced to death for committing the murders. Her face had almost seemed relieved upon hearing the ruling. She had died just after giving Rarity and Spike her blessings in marriage, four weeks prior to the ceremony.

All of the money she had made from Suri was transferred into Rarity’s bank account, and they live comfortably for a long time.

Spike was required to attend physical therapy with and old Neighponese doctor named Hikari, until he could fully use his right arm again, as Sharp Shot’s spell had destroyed a large amount of his muscle. It would come to pass, that Spike learned far more from the old doctor than just how to use his arm, but that is another story, for another time.