The hairs on the back of Rainbow Dash’s neck stood on end, even as she drove her fist into Gilda’s stomach.

Why do I get the feeling that this is going to end badly for me?

She yelped as she was plucked up off of the ground, before being thrown headfirst into a wall decorated with expensive wines.

Dash forced herself not to scream at the feeling of glass digging into her skin. Instead, she focused on the sounds of the voices she heard as she struggled to climb over the counter.

“I leave you alone for one night, and you get your half-naked ass handed to you by some midget in skinny jeans?” A huff. “You can forget about getting laid, Gilda.”

Rainbow Dash could practically sense the embarrassment and anger that Gilda felt being talked down to, and noted how the air tasted…red.

She finally managed to pull herself over the counter, frozen as she recognized a most unwelcome face from her ever-increasing rogue’s gallery.

“You!” she rasped, woozy from blood loss, adrenaline and—she was reluctant to admit it—fear keeping her awake.

“Yeah,” Garble snarled, smoke snaking out of his nostrils, “me.”

Applejack let out a heavy sigh as Cheerilee walked back down the path into the town. She turned, facing Big Macintosh and Apple Bloom, who were both waiting lazily on the stairs.

Applejack smirked as she dug into her back pocket, pulling out a twenty and slapping it onto Apple Bloom’s outstretched palm.

“Heh, Ah had my doubts, Apple Bloom, but you really came through. Who woulda thought getting’ your family laid would be so easy?” She laughed, surprised at her younger sister’s handling of the situation. “By golly, that there’s a Batman gambit if Ah ever heard of one!”

Big Mac chuckled softly, reliving the moment when Applejack had dragged Apple Bloom home for “punishment.” Cheerilee had been so panicked when his younger sister had seen her cuddling into him; it took all of his measurable strength to keep from coughing up a lung at her antics.

Apple Bloom blushed, basking in the praise of her sister. “Sucks, AJ, twasn’t hard at all! After all, what’s family for?”

“Now, you should know that I enjoy the sight of two chicks slapping each other’s shit as much as any other guy,” Garble explained, “but I tend to draw the line when anything other than Garble Jr. is ramming into my girl’s stomach.”

The patrons of the bar hadn’t taken too kindly to the red-haired jerkass who had flung one of their best and brightest into shelves of alcohol, but their attempts to intervene in the fight quite literally blew up in their faces.

Great, Dash thought to herself as she backed up towards the door. Millions of guys that Gilda could’ve run into, and it has to be one of the ones that wants to spit roast me. She gulped, cradling her unresponsive arm—apparently she had been thrown harder than she thought, seeing as how it was dislocated—as she tried to focus despite her blood loss.

Garble stopped his walk forward as his head cocked as he sniffed the air in front of him. “That’s weird. You smell like…coal. Coal and sweat.”

She froze as she saw his muscles clench in anticipation. Crap, that’s right! He may want to snap me in two, but if he gets ahold of Spike—

The doors to the bar swung open. “Dash, I think we might be in trouble!”

Well, fuck.

Garble’s eyes widened in recognition of the green-haired teenager in front of him, before snarling. “Spike!”

Spike coughed, snapping his fingers awkwardly. “…Grumble!” he finally said, wincing when the foul-tempered young man glowered at him.

“It’s Garble, you little piss-ant! I was picking splinters out of my back for weeks because of you!”

“You got what you deserved, Garble.” Which is a stupid name, by the way. “You and your crew should leave while I’m still feeling nice.” He folded his arms, frowning when he saw Rainbow Dash stalk up to him, covered in cuts.

“Don’t make threats you can’t back up, Spike. Just have Scootaloo run and get Twilight before this goes south.”

Spike’s eyes flashed a dangerous green, steam rising from his ruffled hair. “Contrary to what you believe, I’m more than capable of taking care of myself.”

Rainbow Dash frowned, but backpedaled out of the bar, realizing a lost cause when she saw one.

“Fine, tough guy, but don’t come crying to me when Gilda’s boy-toy slaps your shit backwards.”

“Thanks for the vote of confidence,” he muttered.

Garble snorted as he stalked towards the green-haired youth. “You’ve got a lot of nerve, shrimp. Waltzing in here like you own the place, claiming the members of my hoard, and forgetting my name after the hell you put me through?” He cracked his knuckles, flexing as he exhaled smoke from his nostrils. “You’re going to beg for me to kill you after I’m done here.”

Having learned early on in life to tune out threats after having lived so long with Twilight, Spike picked out the only bits of the conversation that he deemed interesting.

“What do you mean I ‘claimed the members of your hoard’? And how far is that stick up your ass that you had to be a misogynist on top of a red-blooded cu—”

“Enough!” Garble cut him off, steam rising from his hair.

“…nt.”

“I guess I’m not surprised at your ignorance, considering that you’re as much a failure as a man as you are a dragon.” The red-headed young man grinned when he saw the simmering look on Spike’s face. “Even you should know that dragons get stronger depending on the size of their hoard.”

Spike flashed to the disaster that was his birthday seven years ago. Yeah, don’t remind me.

Taking his silence as a cue to continue, Garble added, “What you probably didn’t know is that we get even stronger when we add people to our hoards.”

Spike raised an eyebrow. “How the hell does that work?”

Garble shrugged. “It’s magic, I ain’t gotta explain shit.”

Rolling his eyes, Spike posed another question. “How exactly do you ‘claim’ someone else?”

“Anal insemination,” Garble elaborated, appearing fairly disturbing with his casualness. “It’s an instinctual action for half-dragons to take, since we’re fertile to the point of ridiculousness. And since pretty much anything that runs through our bodies is saturated with long-term aphrodisiacs, it’s not that hard to do. That’s part of why we choose to live in seclusion.”

Spike’s eyes widened as he took into account this fairly important information that Princess Luna had neglected to tell him.

Okay, so first there was Bonbon, then Lyra, then Bonbon again…heh, talk about best night ever.

Garble coughed awkwardly as he saw the green-haired young man laugh perversely and wipe drool off of his cheek.

Then there was Twilight, then Derpy, then Rainbow Dash and Gilda’s harpies.

Spike’s grin slowly widened as he took into account his advantage.

“So, let’s say I scored with some jackass’s harem, how strong would that make me?”

Garble snorted, waving his hand distractedly. “Three’s not bad, but for a wimp like you, it’d only make you about twice as strong as you were before. Without any proper training, you’re barely even a thre—”

His sentence was cut by Spike’s fist finding itself lodged in his face.

“Son of a bitch!” Garble curled into a ball on the ground, cradling his nose.

Spike flexed his fingers, excitement apparent on his face when he realized that he didn’t even remember moving one foot in front of the other.

“Holy crap, this is just like in Naruto!” he exclaimed.

“Ugh, you have terrible taste in entertainment!” moaned Garble from his place on the pavement.

Rainbow Dash and Gilda gaped from the sidelines. “I couldn’t even follow that,” murmured the white-haired fury.

Spike laughed as he pelted Garble out the door, still marveling over his abilities. “Who would’ve thought that loads of sex would give you superpowers? It’s almost like—” his eyes widened as he recalled a comment that BonBon once made. “Like Celestia’s gifted me with the strength of ten whores!” He laughed at the irony of the situation.

“Now, what was that about making me wish I was dead?”

Twilight sighed as she listened to her friend about her ‘discovery’ upstairs.

“That’s a relief. Earlier this morning, we were talking about the day he left, and he seemed really upset about it.”

Twilight paused in her discussion with Rarity.

“Do you hear something? I could’ve sworn that I—”

“SHORYUKEN!”

Both women stared, wide-eyed, as a red-headed young man careened through one open window of the library, and out the other. They started as Spike dove through the exact same window, wearing only his pants and a heavily scorched shirt.

Rarity sipped her tea calmly, not batting an eye as he exited the library through a window on the opposite wall.

“I think he’s taking it rather well.”

“Afternoon, Pinkie Pie!” Spike called out as he swung the door to Sugar Cube Corner open.

“Heya, Spike!” she called back. “What can I getcha?” She was tending to the stove, pouting when the pilot light refused to work. A filled cake pan was off to the side, forgotten.

“Actually, I was wondering if I could help you out,” he commented, moving over to the stove.

“Aww, thank you Spike!” she exclaimed, pinching his cheek with one hand and making baby faces at the irritated teenager. “Aren’t you just the most considerate widdle thing?”

Spike winced as he slowly removed Pinkie’s hand from his face. “Er, yeah.”

He looked over, eyeing the pan of batter. “Here! Let me cook that for you.”

Without waiting for a response, Spike took in a deep breath and lit the pan of batter of with a burst of flame. Pinkie Pie’s eyes widened when he ceased the stream of fire.

The cake was completely cooked, without a scorch mark or blemish to be found…

…not to mention that it smelled fairly enticing as well.

“Okay, forget what I said earlier.”

Garble picked himself up off of the pavement, wiping a thin stream of blood from his cheek.

“I’m not just going to kill you,” he said, snarling. “I’m going to bite your fingers off one by one, and then I’m going to rape you on a bed of nails and rub your wounds with salty lemonade.”

Spike winced. “That sounds...excessively violent.” He paused. “And rehearsed.”

Garble shrugged, a dangerous grin on his face. “Avis is a fuh-reak.” His grin dropped, and the hairs on the back of Spike’s neck stood at attention. “But I digress.”

The red-haired man let out a burst of flame with such intensity, Spike quickly had to return fire—literally—so that the library behind him wouldn’t be engulfed in flames.

A bright flash of light obscured his vision, forcing him to close his eyes to avoid any lasting damage. Upon reopening them, he flinched at the sight of the murderous-looking man lunging through the fire and flames, killing intent radiating off of him like heat from a furnace.

It was a moment or two before Spike realized he had been struck to the ground, and was being pulled along the hard, cold road by his hair. He grunted in pain, clawing out in vain at his captor.

“I bet you think you’re real clever, don’t you?”

Garble had dragged him up to his feet, before slamming a flaming fist into the side of Spike’s jaw.

Spike yelled in agony, so deep in pain that couldn’t tell if that was his bones burning, or his skin crunching.

“You think that claiming women and being a smartass makes you strong? You think you’re above the rest of your kind, like some sort of ‘man about town’ who knows how to get what he wants?”

A fierce knee to the gut, and Spike knows by the sudden cold in him that something permanent and unquestionably terrible has been done.

A cruel, malicious smirk crossed Garble’s face, as if nothing else could convey the malefic intentions he had for the victim dangling in his grasp. “You think you’re the only one?”

The red-haired bastard opened his mouth wide, wide enough for Spike to see the spark that comes before a burst of flame.

Struggling, he drew on the alarmingly low amount of magic in his own body, and—upon finding that it was too cold to be ignited—opened his mouth, shouting a flurry of sparks into Garble’s mouth.

The taller man coughed and wheezed as the sudden explosion in his mouth scorched his throat, causing him to double over.

Having nothing left to keep himself running, Spike collapsed onto the cobblestone road.

“So, is there anything else I can help you with?”

Pinkie Pie shook her head rapidly, grinning as she decorated the gorgeous looking cake in front of her. “Nope! That’s it for today.”

Spike rocked back and forth on his heels. “Are you sure there isn’t something you’re forgetting?” Pinkie Pie looked at him questioningly. “Something that involves you and me…?”

Pinkie’s face was blank for a moment, before lighting up in a red-faced grin. “Spike, you dog!”

He froze immediately. “Pardon?”

“See you around, stud.” She winked at him playfully, chuckling as she turned back to lovingly tending to her sexy, sexy cake. ” Maybe when we’re older, huh?”
Spike hung his head, face-palming as he realized that Pinkie Pie had completely misread his intentions. Alright, he thought to himself, so Twilight, Rarity, and Pinkie Pie haven’t remembered my potentially last day as a conscious person. Not so bad. He walked out the door, considering the possibilities. Then again, they may just be planning me a surprise party!

He was so deep in his thoughts, he almost hadn’t heard Pinkie Pie call out from the kitchen.

“Who knows, maybe you’ll let me lick some batter off of you?”

Spike had to cover his face in embarrassment when some of the patrons in the front room chuckled at his expense.

Spike woke to the sound of beeping.

Ugh…kill it with fire…

He realized the irony of the statement a little late.

The grip around his wrist that he hadn’t realized was there tightened.

“Spike? Are you awake?”

That sounds like Twilight, he noted.

“No…” he wheezed.

He winced when he felt her fingers flick him across his forehead.

“Oh, thank goodness you’re all right!” cried a soft voice from beside him.

Spike realized that he didn’t know how many people were in the room. Finally opting to open his eyes, his heart nearly stopped when he found eleven pairs of eyes trained on him.

Donotpissyourselfdonotpissyourselfdonotpissyourself

Princess Celestia sat at the side of the bed, cradling Twilight’s hand in her own.

She looked as if a great weight had been lifted from her chest.

“You gave us quite a scare last night, Spike.” She stroked Twilight’s hair gently, comforting her student while addressing the young man in the hospital bed. “How are you feeling?”

Spike winced when he tried to speak, feeling that his throat was cold and dry. He swallowed before replying. “I feel like there’s a chunk of ice in my gut.”

The alarm he felt at the weakness of his voice—he hadn’t said, he had croaked—must have been obvious, because the Princess had winced and he had heard Twilight choke back a sob.

“Your fire sac broke, dearest.”

Spike’s eyes widened when he realized that Princess Luna was in the room as well—scratch that, behind him, apparently holding him in her lap protectively—combing through his hair with her fingers.

“During your…altercation,” she choked, “you lost your ability to use your fire, as well as most of your strength. It will return with time, but for the moment…” she trailed off.

“We almost lost you, my young friend.” Spike started again—I swear, I’m on this side of a heart attack these days—when he realized that the voice belonged to Fancy Pants.

“Not to sound ungrateful,” he croaked, “but what are you doing here?”

“Well, when they had you moved to Canterlot, I was called in to perform your operation.” He smirked good-naturedly as Spike twisted his head in confusion. “I’m a surgeon in my spare time, you see.”

Spike tried to shrug. He slowly realized that his body wasn’t responding.

“Why can’t I—”

Luna interrupted him, saying “Your operation was a painful one, Spike. Debilitating, actually. The only areas of your body that weren’t suffering from intense agony were your forehead and left arm. We had to magically paralyze most of your body so that you wouldn’t be crippled in pain.”

Rainbow Dash spoke up from the corner of the room. “It’s my fault,” she muttered. “It was a bad idea going out like that in the first place.” She stared down at the cast on her arm, unwilling to meet anybody’s eyes. “We should’ve gotten out of there as soon as Gilda’s crew showed up.”

Scootaloo, who was standing at her side, said nothing.

No, it wasn’t your fault. I was being stupid and stubborn. Spike opened his mouth to say as much, before he was interrupted again.

“No, Dashie, it was my fault.” All eyes turned to Pinkie Pie, whose hair had flattened to a depressing shade of greyish-pink.

She looked up at Spike, her tear-streaked eyes wobbling pitifully. “Twilight told us about your birthday. About why you went to Canterlot.”

Oh.

“I-if I hadn’t forgotten about it, then you never would’ve had to go away, and you wouldn’t have gotten beaten up so badly!” She stopped just short of bawling, burying her face into Applejack’s shoulder. “You needed real friends,” she sobbed, “and all you had was me.”

Spike wanted nothing more than to get up and embrace the poor girl, but he realized with aggravating clarity that the severity of his injuries would not allow it.

“We really do feel terrible, darling.” Rarity spoke up, rubbing her hands together nervously. “It’s just, ever since that day, everything about us just changed.” A pause of silence passed, as six pairs of eyes connected, all arriving at the same definition of what she meant. “Could you ever forgive us?”

The green-haired teenager felt an explanation on the tip of his tongue, grasping at the back of his mind. Something he knew that would explain all the craziness that had happened between him and his closest friends.

He realized that his former crush wasn’t taking his silence as a good sign.

“No, Rarity, of course I can, it’s just…” It’s on the tip of my tongue!

“All of you, I mean—” He was tripping over his words, trying to work out speaking—babbling, really—and thinking at the same time.

His head was a shambles, trying to think of something to say that would pacify them, trying to make sense of something that would pacify him as well.

I swear, Garble must’ve punched out the part of me that can rationalize well.

His eyes widened, mouth forming a small ‘o’ as realization struck him.

Garble. Claiming. Dragons. APHRODISIACS.

“Everything about us just changed,” Rarity had said not a couple of seconds ago.

It clicked into place as Spike realized the colossal fuck-up that may have been entirely on him.

Sweet bearded Celestia fuck me with a diamond cestus!

“…what?” replied the titular ruler, a blush lining her cheeks as she tried not to imagine visually what he had just said.

The room was dead silent.

“Did…I say that out loud?”

Applejack stared straight into his eyes. “Eeyup.”

“So what you’re saying,” Twilight replied for confirmation, “is that when you cooked Pinkie Pie’s cake for her, you accidentally imbued it with aphrodisiacs that made us more aggressive and sexually active?”

“Pretty much,” Spike confirmed.

"And this somehow never happened before when you used it on other foods, why?" she continued.

"Puberty?" he suggested, shrugging.

“And you’re forgiving us for years of neglect and forgetting about your possibly last birthday as a conscious person for who-knows-how-long?” Pinkie Pie added, her hair slightly less limp than before.

Channel the Princess, Spike reminded himself, which wasn’t so hard when she was right next to him.

“Shit happens,” he said, shrugging.

Twilight gave him a look that said, You’ve been hanging around Rainbow Dash too long.

He gave her back a smirk that said, I know.

“I don’t get it,” squeaked Sweetie Belle from her place on Rarity’s lap. “If only you guys ate the horny cake—” Rarity slapped her on the hand, “then how come so many people wanted Spike so badly?”

Princess Luna interjected, “The dragon-blooded people are naturally attractive, young one. It’s an adaptation developed to keep their race alive. Pheromones and natural fitness have a heavy hand in determining their mates.”

Sweetie Belle perked up in excitement. “Oh! So dragons are kind of like those vampires from that book!”

Princess Luna narrowed her eyes, petting Spike’s hair as she calculated a response that wouldn’t crush the young girl’s spirits. She leaned down, whispering into her young charge’s ear.

“Would you mind terribly if I struck her?”

“If you do,” he whispered back, “no more massages for you.”

“Zounds,” she cursed.

“So…everything evens out?” asked Rainbow Dash, shifting sorely from her place at the end of the bed.

“Depends.” He grinned weakly. “Do you guys think you can forgive me into inadvertently turning you all into sex-crazed maniacs?”

Celestia choked on her slice of cake. “I’m sorry?! When did this happen?”

Fluttershy smiled wanly in response. “I’m sure we can put it behind us,” she said.

Spike’s smile reached his eyes as he turned his head to face his oldest friend. “Still friends?”

Twilight leaned in close and pecked him gently on his cheek, her age-old What am I going to do with you smile on her face.

“Always.”