Conversions
-Disclaimer: Hasbro owns all recognizable characters, most unrecognizable characters, and no, I'm not profiting off of this.
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Dots at the edge of the paper slowly grew in number as a young dragon took his time looking for words. He wanted this to sound mature, educated, clear and eloquent.

A difficult feat when his extended vernacular was mostly second-claw or pulled from comic book context.

"Dear Twilight"

A letter was hardly difficult to begin, but truly starting it brought his mental gears to a halt. Did he tell her why he left? Explain what he felt? Describe the three ponies he'd hired to take his place?

"Dear Twilight"

What he felt was a maelstrom, his thoughts falling as drops of rain amidst the winds of confusion.

"Dear Twilight"

That was why he left. He needed some time to drag it down to something he could figure out. Everytime he felt like he was getting a handle on himself, something new would pop out of the woodwork and throw everything back into turmoil.

"Dear Twilight"

Hiring his own replacements had been an entirely separate nightmare. Not to mention doing it under a very tight time table and getting everything else ready. He'd been lucky, more so than he'd care to admit, in finding three ponies who would actually meet his expectations and had the right temperments.

"Dear Twilight"

Just the right mix of patience, grounding and motivation. Too much or too little of any of those would be disastrous in serving Equestria's youngest Alicorn.

"Dear Twilight.

I miss you."

Spike set the pen down. He'd have all day to figure out the rest.

----

Water, flour, yeast, eggs, honey, oats and cheese and so many other things Spike didn't want to think about.

He'd passed though. He had a job. He had to be up at an hour even Celestia complained about, but he had work.

Mixing dough, kneading it, baking it, keeping track of jam and jelly supply at the counter and a whole host of other small things.

Spike had noticed something though.

Not a single dragon had entered the store. He hadn't even seen any pass by the storefront window.

Spike hung up his apron, caked and smeared with enough raw materials that it too could be baked in one of the ovens. With how good it smelled, he'd bet no pony would even complain about the apron in the middle.

"Throw it in the washbin, Spike. We'll have a fresh one out tomorrow." Said Mr.Lemon's voice from behind the dragon.

Spike still didn't know his first name.

"I must admit, you surprised me. Dilligence, little dragon" One hoof rubbed the top of Spike's head next to his frills. "Pony and dragon alike need more of it, I say, but you've got it in spades."

The pony levitated his own stained apron off, cleaner than the dragon's though that hardly said much, and threw it into a large cloth bin at the end of one counter. Spike unhooked his apron and did the same.

The old pony was much less harsh after a full day of work. Maybe he enjoyed a full day of work, or perhaps he was simply happy to have a quarter of his work split off.

Brash as he was, arrogant as he could be, Spike knew he hadn't taken even half of an experts work load.

"Say, Mr.Lemon? I was wondering something." With enough flour on him, the pony looked like a paint instead of a solid brown and at first glance was less intimidating. His eyes, though, were sharp as ever.

"Well help me clean up while you talk then. Can't have the missus at home dilly-dallying all night." A broom was pushed into the dragon's claws while a bucket was filling itself under a sink. Spike immediately went to work sweeping the flour, dust and countless other things into a pile.

"I saw a pair of unused rooms upstairs. I was uh... I was wondering if I could rent one?" Spike got quieter near the end of his request, the look in the stallion's eyes was intense.

"Not liking it in Dragon Town, are you?" That was, Spike felt, an accusation.

"Couldn't find a place to stay there." Spike pushed the broom a bit too hard, flour rising into the air. "Sold my gemstones for bits in Baltimare and well wouldn't you know it? Dragon town dragons don't want bits."

"No." Mr.Lemon said, a curious quality to his voice. "They don't."

"So I've got a bank account full of money accepted everywhere in Equestria. In Yakyakistan. In the Crystal Empire. Even all the way over in Griffinstone! And it's no good." Spike looked to the sizable pile he'd built up, mirroring the frustration that had built up in his voice.

"If you haven't been staying in Dragon Town, where were you sleeping?" The unicorn's voice was softer now, something in it reminded Spike so strongly of Fluttershy that the coals in his chest went cold.

"The Thorny Rose over on West Pillar street. It's cheap and the beds are clean." But not so cheap that they'd rent out his room while he was out. Spike thought he knew the difference between cheap, and cheap.

"Three bits." The stallion's voice was sharp. He wasn't negotiating.

"What?" Spike paused, kneeling on the floor with a dustpan in claw and looked up, confusion clearly written across his face.

"Three bits off your hourly wage. Instead of ten, you'll get seven. Both upstairs rooms are yours, but I expect you to keep the entire upstairs clean, my office included. But one thing you'd best keep in mind." The stallion bent low, his eyes level with Spike. He could smell the honey and oats baked into the bread they'd shared for lunch.

"No. Parties."

----

Elsewhere, on a train heading north, a pink pony screamed.