“Where do you think he’s run off to?"

Applejack shrugged. "No idea. I woke up this mornin', and the bed was empty. No note, no nothing." She sported a frown as she nursed her black coffee.

The two of them had engaged in light conversation, lounging in Sugar Cube Corner's front dining room.

Pinkie Pie sighed at her place behind the counter. She tapped idly at the cash register, head in one hand, opening and closing the machine in boredom. "That's too bad. I don't think he should be running around, what with his condition and all."

The southerner paused, raising her eyebrow. "You realize he can move around just fine? He can't use magic anymore, but Spike's all right otherwise."

Pinkie Pie snorted, wrinkling her nose. "I meant the whole 'cornered by women wherever he goes' thing."

Applejack shrugged in return. "I dunno. He's a red-blooded teenager. The novelty of that sorta thing must be real—"

The door flung open, and a haggard-looking young man wearing a hoodie bolted through the door. He slammed the door shut, darted forward, and grabbed a chair, propping it against the door.

"What in tarnation?" Applejack yelled, starting from her seat.

The young man pulled down his hood, revealing a bloodily-scarred face with verdant green hair.

"Hide me," he begged.

Two sets of eyes widened, even as Pinkie dashed over the counter and slung the formerly missing young man over her shoulder.

"Spike?!" Applejack said incredulously. "What in blazes happened to you?"

"I'll tell you when it's safe!" he called back to her as Pinkie ran up the stairs.

"Gummy, cover for me!" she yelled.

"*gurgle*"

Applejack sighed, grabbing her hat and following her friends up into the loft.

"Eat." Pinkie commanded, handing a pastry to the heaving youth.

Spike stared at the baker. "Pinkie, how the hell am I supposed to eat a double-decker cake?"

"Like this!" She reached a hand out, plucked a handful of chocolate and vanilla marble goodness, and forcefully pushed it into his mouth. "Shh, it'll be okay." She sucked in her breath when her fingers passed into Spike's mouth. "That's right, take it all you filthy—"

"Pinkie!" Applejack nearly shouted, wrestling the other girl's arm away. "Land sakes, girl, give 'em some space!"

The other girl pouted, but complied, pulling her fingers away.

Applejack turned to Spike, who was still coughing the food down. "Now, would ya mind explainin' just how you went and got yourself all cut up?"

"Agh frg ohb huh bhg," he mumbled through the mess in his mouth.

The apple farmer rolled her eyes. "Wanna try that again? A little clearer this time?"

Spike paused, then swallowed the bulge of food. After a series of coughs, he said, "I fell on a wolf."

Applejack and Pinkie Pie stared at him incredulously. "Come again?" the farmer asked.

Spike sighed, sitting back on Pinkie Pie's bed. "I got up this morning, went to the stairs, tripped down the stairs, and fell on a wolf sitting in front of the stairs."

"What was he doing there in the first place? And how do you get up first thing in the morning and trip down the steps?"

Spike glared at her. "Probably the same way someone would leave their shirt and boots right in front of them."

Applejack winced. "Oh."

Spike threw his arms out in exasperation. "Why the hell do you even have spurs? You don't ride anything!"

Pinkie Pie cocked her head, leaning back on hands. "What exactly was it doing there in the first place?"

The green-haired man shrugged, crossed his legs, and fell back on the bed. "I put an ad online in the personals. I was supposed to be meeting someone for a blind date—figured that appearances wouldn't get in the way. Turns out that a 'BBW' doesn't always mean what you think it does."

"But you're freakishly strong!" Pinkie exclaimed. "How is it that you got roughed up by one big-bad wolf?"

Spike snorted. "Have you seen where we live, Pinkie? Fluttershy literally lives right next door to some of God's ugliest children. Super strength doesn't count for much here."

"How does a wolf even type on a computer?"

"Really carefully?"

"Ah don't get it," Applejack muttered. "If ya gave as good as you got, then why exactly are ya hidin' out here?"

Spike stared at her. "Wait, you thought that I won?"

"What d'ya suppose all the ruckus out there is about?"

Sweetie Belle and Scootaloo simply shrugged. The Crusaders were staring blankly out the side of their treehouse, transfixed by the yells and, to their surprise, howls emanating from the town.

"It's probably just another monster rampaging through town," Sweetie Belle muttered, resting her chin on outstretched arms.

All three Crusaders started when the door to their treehouse burst open, and a haggard-looking young man staggered through, hoodie cinched tight around his face and a tuft of green hair matted against his skin.

"Hide me." he begged.

"What the hell is wrong with you?!" Apple Bloom screeched. "You bustin' in here like that nearly gave me a heart attack!"

"Who did you manage to piss off this time?" Scootaloo pondered.

"Wanna make out?" Sweetie Belle chirped. When the other three glanced at her, she simply shrugged. "Priorities."

"Look," Spike said, panting, "I can explain how I pissed off the townspeople later, but I need to lay low for a while. Can you guys help me out?"

Apple Bloom crossed her arms stubbornly. "Why come here? Isn't there anyone else dumb enough to let you hole up with them?"

Spike frowned. "Well, there's not exactly a lot of options for me here, what with the mob and all."

Scootaloo started, eyes wide. "What—"

But Spike continued. "Besides, I already tried Zecora's, but that didn't end well."

Spike dashed through the Everfree Forest, glad for the momentary silence. Few members of the mob were willing to follow him into the dreaded home of so many of nature's abominations. They were more than content, to his displeasure, to wait him out.

The green-haired youth sighed. His dealings with the citizens were postponed for now, yes, but he had only traded one trouble for another. Newfound strength or not, the Everfree Forest was still home to countless perils.

His only hope lay with Zecora.

Spike sighed in relief when he laid eyes upon the familiar hut. He bent over, panting—for he hadn't rested since he started running—then knocked on the door and awaited her response.

Sure enough, the dark-skinned alchemist answered the door in a matter of moments. A smile graced her lips as she recognized his familiar face, one that she hadn't seen in a matter of years.

"Ah, a friendly visage graces my eyes! Tell me, what occasion warrants this surprise?" She stepped aside from the doorway to allow him into her humble dwelling.

Spike smiled. "It's great to see you, Zecora." He frowned. "I'm sorry to ask a favor the first time I see you after so long, but is it okay if I hang out here for a few hours? Things are pretty heated back in town."

The enchantress's eyes narrowed appreciatively, tracing mildly up and down his physique, concealed as it was. "But of course, you may spend as long as you need. If there are any complaints, you shall not hear them from me."

Spike's smile returned bigger than before. "You're a lifesaver, Zecora." He paused as something caught his eye. "What's that over there?

Zecora followed his gaze, 'ah'ing when she met the object of inquiry. "Ah, it is a simple mixture I made, containing hayseed and orange. More obscure ingredients are employed also, but—"

Zecora paused, a look of horror dawning on her face. Then, her mouth twisted into a hard, cruel line.

"Get the fuck out of my house."

"And that was the end of that," Spike muttered.

Apple Bloom huffed. "Ah still don't see why we should help you. You aren't exactly at the top of my 'favorite people' list, at the moment."

Spike had to resist rolling his eyes. "Cut me some slack, okay? We were literally caught with our pants down, and Applejack was on the warpath." He slumped to the floor of the treehouse, rubbing his temples.

Scootaloo stared at him indignantly, crossing her arms over her orange tank top jersey. "Are you serious? Apple Bloom gets some stank on the hang down, but you cut me off? I thought we were friends!"

"Not best friends," the teen on the floor grumbled.

Sweetie Belle looked close to tears as she looked to her red-haired friend. "You made nookie?"

The young farmer shifted awkwardly in her pale yellow flannel shirt, looking anywhere but at Sweetie Belle. "It doesn't even count, we didn't get to—"

"You promised!" Sweetie Belle screeched, throwing her hands out to the side.

Spike's eyes widened in alarm. "Wait, promised what?" He scrambled to his feet, quickly reevaluating his options.

Sweetie Belle sniffed, wiping her eyes with her arm. "The girls and I promised each other that we'd all have our first times together." She looked at Apple Bloom witheringly. "It was supposed to be a mind-blowing orgy, but someone didn't want to wait."

Spike raised an eyebrow at her statement. "Why on Earth would you want to do that? Losing your virginity is supposed to be private and sentimental."

Scootaloo snorted. "Like that stopped you."

Spike winced.

"And besides," Sweetie Belle continued, "they say you always remember your first times, and who they were with. Apple Bloom and Scootaloo are my best friends! Who else would I want to become a woman with?"

Spike opened his mouth to reply, but stopped. Sure, he thought, I remember Lyra and Bon Bon, but I didn't exactly know them either. He rubbed his hair back with his palm, loosening his hoodie. When's the last time I even talked to them?

He was absorbed enough in his thoughts to start when Scootaloo snapped her fingers directly in front of his face.

"Snap out of it, Princess." she said, frowning. "We're not done with you just yet."

His eyes lost their unfocused glazed, then narrowed back into a sour stare. "Well? My fate is in your hands, Crusaders," he said mockingly.

"I'm gonna be straight with you."

Spike looked up, and Sweetie Belle and Apple Bloom both stopped their petty squabbles.

Scootaloo's face was serious; she had the air of someone who needed to say something, but was having trouble putting it into words. She rubbed her palms together.

"I appreciated our little... heart-to-heart the other night." She combed her hair back, puffing her cheeks out in exasperation. "I think you really needed to let go of some stuff, and Celestia knows its been a while since a guy has even looked at me."

Scootaloo leaned back on the wall next to Spike, cracking her fingers together and tapping her sneakers—a show of habit, Spike figured.

"But all that aside," she continued, as her voice gained a flinty edge, "I think you've been looking at this the wrong way." The purple-haired girl glanced down at the man next to her. "You are a strong person, Spike, I know you are. We know you are," she said, nodding to her two best friends. "But between you and me, you aren't going to make people feel better just by making them feel better, get me?"

Spike nodded slowly, but said nothing.

"From what I understand, Twilight's acting weird—weirder than usual, anyway, Rainbow Dash is on a guilt-trip, and Apple Bloom isn't exactly glad to see you right now."

"Ah didn't say that." the girl interjected.

"Well you didn't have to, now did you?" Scootaloo replied.

Apple Bloom glared daggers at her friend, but remained silent.

"Getting back on topic," Scootaloo said, nestling down next to her silent friend, "and I know I'm the least qualified person to talk to you like this, but someone has to." She rested a hand on his shoulder. "Being handsome, or chivalrous, or kind is great and all, but that's nothing new for you." She smiled a half-smile at him. "Having a bomb-ass dick doesn't hurt either—"

Sweetie Belle sucked in her breath. "You saw his—"

"-but I don't think just knowing how to please a woman is enough. It's not enough to just have amazing sex with whoever you want either, even if you're a good person on the inside and out. Maybe for a boy, but it's not enough for a man."

Scootaloo was staring him dead in the face. "Are you the same boy as four years ago, Spike?"

He met her stare with resolve that he was just now starting to feel. "I'm not."

"Are you a man?"

"I am!" he said, fists clenched.

"Then don't just sit on your ass and wait for things to change for the better!" Scootaloo shot to her feet, adrenaline racing to her head and fueling her words. "Stand up and kill the whiny little bitch in yourself! Stand up and be a man!"

"I will!" he yelled, rising to his feet in a feverish fit of emotion.

Scootaloo looked up at him, beaming. "Now start with me!" she yelled, to the shock of her two friends who, until that moment, had been transfixed by her awe-inspiring speech.

"I WI—wait, what?" Spike looked at her incredulously. "You can't be serious."

"I'm entirely serious!" she said, still smiling. "I said I would be straight with you, so I am." Her tone turned slightly more serious as she stepped around the room of the treehouse. "We've known each other since we were kids, yeah?"

Spike nodded, though his face was marred by skepticism.

"We played together, we did dumb shit together," she shrugged. "We kind of grew up together, if you squint."

Apple Bloom simply rolled her eyes.

"And I wasn't just spouting crap back there, either." Scootaloo rolled on the balls of her feet, hands in her pockets. "We have to stop being kids someday; on the outside, at least." Now she was the one avoiding eye contact. "I...always thought you were handsome. Even when we were kids."

Spike's eyes widened, and he uncrossed his arms. "Really?"

Scootaloo nodded. "And I don't want to pressure you or anything: I know...everyone else so far must have been at least a little pushy." She made a point of darting her eyes at Apple Bloom, who simply looked in another direction. "And I know Apple Bloom and Sweetie Belle will agree with me to let you lay low here for a while, regardless of what you say."

Sweetie Belle pouted, but said nothing.

His walls were dropping, they could tell, but he still hadn't agreed yet. "How is this any different from what happened with...everyone else?"

"It's symbolic, for one," Apple Bloom said, finally speaking up. "We're not women, like Twilight," she seemed to spit. "Once we do this, there's no going back to being little girls."

Crusading for orgasms? cried out Spike's inner smartass, a comment he wisely kept to himself.

"So don't feel...obligated, or anything, I guess," Scootaloo said, finally raising her eyes to meet his, "but it would mean the world to us," she swallowed, "to me."

Sweetie Belle remained quiet, but stared intensely at Spike, awaiting his answer.

The green-haired young man was silent for a few seconds more, then smiled weakly. "I guess...but we'll have to be quiet."

Sweetie Belle let out a long-held sigh, and started unbuttoning her blouse.

"Finally. We've only been waiting, like, four months now."

Spike tried not to let it go to his head when the Crusaders sighed at the sight of his stomach.

Really, he did.

"Who's first?" he asked. He was barely able to get the words out of his mouth before Sweetie Belle tackled his legs, knocking him back onto his behind. When he looked up, her fingers were already reaching for his zipper.

"No, that's fine, Sweetie Belle." he said sardonically. "Just go straight for the gold. Guys don't need foreplay, after all."

"I just wanna see it!" she squealed. Spike noted that her voice still cracked, something he found oddly comforting.

"Goodness gracious, Sweetie Belle, pull yourself together!" Apple Bloom growled. Her hands pried the other girl's invasive fingers away from Spike's pants. "There's an order to these things!"

"What?" Sweetie Belle said impatiently. "Why can't we just get to the good part?"

Apple Bloom sighed, running a hand over her face. "Because, like I said, there's an order to how you do these things."

Sweetie Belle huffed. "You would know," she muttered under her breath.

"Look here," she said, using her familiar authoritative voice, "Spike's more than just a dick and some muscles, right? Mostly, anyway." She ignored his glare, on principle.

"Yeah, so what?" Sweetie Belle chirped, still impatient.

"So," Scootaloo said, joining in, "it's an outright crime just to let the rest of his body go to waste." She pushed the other girl out of the way, despite her protests. "Besides, it's my turn anyway."

"But—"

"My kickass speech, my turn." She leaned forward eagerly, straddling Spike's lap. She groaned as his fingers traced their way around the bare skin of her hips. "Rough hands," she muttered distractedly.

"Dragon."

His lips moved to Scootaloo's neck, kissing vigorously at her collarbone. Her groaning intensified, and her grip instinctively tightened around Spike's chest. "Harder," she ordered, clutching at his hair.

Spike complied, using one hand to caress her thigh, the other to knead the modest flesh just beneath her sports bra. Slowly, gently, he bent over to lower Scootaloo onto her back, paying her body its due respects all the while. He loomed over his partner, whose arms wrapped insistently around his neck.

Without warning, Spike's mouth darted to meet hers, drawing the two into a long, deep kiss. One swift movement from Spike's hand later, and her shirt and bra passed over her hands, dropping the smaller girl onto the floor.

"Sorry," Spike murmured, closing the distance between the two. Her black shorts and sneakers her only remaining clothing, Scootaloo shivered, staring wide-eyed at her partner with terrible anticipation. Her body glistened with the beginnings of a hot sweat, and tensed under the unabashed gaze of her friend. The pale tan of her body accentuated her physique in all the usual places, Spike noticed, except for the tan lines where her bra would be.

She had the body of an athlete, that much he could tell. The makings of abs, and a distinct 'v' forming near her hips, all but concealed by her shorts. Her breasts were practically nonexistent, but that had never been much of a priority for him.

"So are we going to do it, or what?" Scootaloo said, growing impatient, despite her heavy breathing. "What are you doing right now anyway?"

Spike grinned, his mischievous side once again rising to the surface. "Aggressive foreplay."

He pinned Scootaloo's arms above her head, grinding his hips into hers, their bare chests gliding across each other. Scootaloo squealed—squealed?—into his mouth, giddy in regard to his forwardness.

They broke apart for air, and Spike noticed that her lips had blushed red from their kissing.

Eyes lidded, he placed two of his fingers before her lips. Scootaloo hesitated for a moment, uncomprehending, before slowly taking them into her mouth. After the passing of a few moments, and after stealing another kiss to the corner of her mouth—"Mmh!"—he removed them, then positioned his fingers above her shorts, snaking them through the bundle of black denim and into her—

"MMH!" Scootaloo yelled into his mouth loud enough for his teeth to rattle. As soon as his fingers hit their mark, Scootaloo's back arched, eyes shut in surprise. Her hips writhed around his hand, clenching and unclenching at random. She continued moaning helplessly, back arching on instinct and toes curling inside of her shoes.

His fingers caressed her sensitive flesh obsessively, massaging her labia and tracing the insides of her thighs. His thumb rested just above, flicking across her clit, guided by her reactions.

Scootaloo's eyes rolled backwards, her body still in shock at being finally, finally being touched for the very first time. Her free hand clawed at the floor of the treehouse while Scootaloo herself was too busy to even understand all the things being done to her.

Never one to miss an opportunity to tease a friend, Spike pressed even further into Scootaloo's mouth, and, once making sure of the fact that her eyes were closed, looked up at Sweetie Belle.

She was panting, face red with embarrassment from seeing her friend in such a state, as well as no small part of impatience. She gasped silently when Spike looked directly up at her, flinching when the bastard had the nerve to wink at her.

At the pressure on his chest, Spike glanced down. Scootaloo, face red and eyes half-lidded, pushed against his heaving muscles. Her legs, wrapped around his waist, went slack.

"Take it out," she breathed.

Spike blinked. "Once I put it in—"

"It'll hurt, I know." Scootaloo interjected.

Still, he hesitated. "Scootaloo..."

"Sometime today, please!" Sweetie Belle yelled, clutching the fringes of her dress.

Spike rolled his eyes as he unzipped his jeans. "So much for the usual pomp and circumstance," he muttered.

Sweetie Belle and Scootaloo both stared, wide-eyed at the unveiling of his member.

Apple Bloom wasn't as impressed.

"Ah distinctly remember you tellin' Applejack that it was eleven inches." She smirked. "What, did you fall on it?"

*whap*

Apple Bloom twitched, rubbing the stinging mark on her cheek. "What just happened?"

"Fun fact," Spike said, ignoring Scootaloo's dinner plate-sized eyes. "Transmogrification is a form of magic."

Apple Bloom stared at him, bewildered. "But you're a cripple!"

Spike shrugged. "Dragon magic, yeah. But I picked up a few cantrips here and there."

"So you slapped me with your penis?" she said, incredulously.

"But eleven is a bit...unwieldy," he said, grimacing. "Depending on the person, I can change my size. And seeing as how I actually like Scootaloo and don't want to break her in half..." he let the statement hang in the air.

"How the hell is that fair?" Sweetie Belle barked. "It took me years to lift a stupid pencil with my mind!"

Spike shrugged. "I'm still a beginner, but dragons are usually more powerful than humans. I guess you could say that body alterations come to us easier than others," he said, casting his memory back to one of his more terrifying birthdays. "Besides, it's too draining to be used practically."

Scootaloo did little to hide her boredom. her head resting on her upraised fist. "So, are we fucking, or what? 'Cause we have things to do today, believe it or not."

Spike reached for her shorts, yanked them below her ankles, and tossed them over his head. Scootaloo started to kick off her shoes, but Spike stopped her. "Keep them on."

Slowly, he lowered himself to align with her slit, bracing himself against the floor with one arm. He twitched when he found her opening, but managed to keep himself from plunging into her right away. A slight push forward with his hips was all it took to slip his head inside of her.

Slowly...

Slowly...

Scootaloo started when his dick finally came to a stop, halted by the thin wall of flesh. In an uncharacteristic show of assertiveness, she thrust her hips upward before she had time to reconsider. Her legs constricted around Spike's waist, impaling her even deeper on his member.

Spike shuddered, giving himself time to adjust to the tightness of his friend. Considering the fact that Scootaloo was the smallest of any woman he'd been with, and a virgin as well, he figured that he shouldn't have been surprised. Even so...

"Why...aren't you...moving?" Scootaloo managed to say between gasps of air. Her normally stiff purple hair clung matted to her forehead, and her muscles spasmed irregularly at the unfamiliar intruder resting at her loins.

Spike gritted his teeth, before pulling out of her as carefully as he could, much to his partner's dismay. "Get on top of me," he said before she protest. "So I don't hurt you," he clarified.

Swiftly, she got out from under him, just as Spike turned to rest on his back. He heard a rustling of cloth, and when Scootaloo came back into his vision, she came wearing his hoodie. The dark cloth went to her narrow hips, covering her like a robe, save for a lone trace of skin that extended to her burgeoning womanhood. The sight of his friend in his clothes inspired a familiar bout of possessiveness in Spike.

It must have shown on his face. Scootaloo smirked as she knelt to straddle his waist. "That's better." Her hands moved to grasp at his shoulders, and she shuddered as she felt his strong grasp on her bare hips. His member slipped inside of her again, this time with less hesitation. Scootaloo groaned, but waited for the movement to stop.

Only when he had bottomed out, his head pressed messily against her cervix, did Scootaloo start to move. Her hips lifted, reluctantly emptying itself out, before swallowing up her partner's manhood again. Despite the initial sharp pains that accompanied her penetration, Scootaloo continued to work her hips and down, relishing the feeling of being stretched. A powerful heat moved in her womb, and before long, a horribly lewd thwap accompanied their movements, followed by soft grunts on Scootaloo's part.

Gradually, their pace increased until the purple-haired girl was falling onto Spike's member with speed sufficient enough to nearly wound her. Her moans grew with the frequency of their thrusts, aided by the unrelenting grasp of her ass by her partner's sinfully coarse hands. She gasped endlessly, panting out his name whenever she could remember to speak. Spike's intense but steady bucking into her left her lean ass red from the constant attention. With each joining of their hips, it became harder to separate; the ferocity with which she gripped him was almost painful, to Spike's delight.

Scootaloo was nigh-on yelling now, eking out curses as her orgasm slowly began to build in the bottom of her stomach. The colossal feeling welled inside of her like a wave, slackening her movements with its rapidly rising pressure, until Spike was the sole one moving. He felt the familiar clenching of his balls, along with the heat gathering in the center of his body, but he banished it to the back of his mind, determined to put it off for as long as possible.

The young athlete on top of him was close, he could tell; her small, lithe body was locking up, and all she was able to do was sigh into Spike's ear, arms clenched on top of his chest and legs pinching his waist like a vice.

At long last, her orgasm hit, slamming into her loins and setting her body on fire. Scootaloo's small frame convulsed on top of Spike as her lips clenched almost frantically at his member. She cried out, curling into a ball on top of Spike as something like electricity spread throughout her. It took all of his determination and a fair bit of his stubbornness to not finish inside of her; he still had two Crusaders to go, and he had no intention of stopping now.

The heat in Scootaloo persisted for a few long moments, curling in her toes and throbbing in her womanhood, for moments more. Eventually, the fire left her, and she collapsed on top of Spike in a tangle of sweaty limbs. A natural post-intercourse glow settled about her as she managed to slide off to the side of her partner, breathing heavily to catch her breathe.

An indulgent grin was on her face as her chest heaved. "So...that's what that feels like..." she said. "I think I can trade walking every now and then for one of those."

Spike laughed, barely sweating compared to his friend, but said nothing.

Scootaloo's breathing settled, and after a while, she rolled over, draping her bare leg over his waist. "You didn't finish."

The green-haired young man shook his head. "No, I didn't. I think that right now, it's better to build up so that I can keep—"

"I want one of those!" Sweetie Belle yelled, plomping down on Spike's chest and smooshing Scootaloo's face away.

"Give me a few—" Spike said, before being interrupted with an energetic face positioned directly in front of his.

"ROUND TWO ROUND TWO ROUND TWO!" she yelled, ripping off her blouse to reveal a white satin camisole.

Spike's eyes widened, until he settled with a sigh. "Round two..."

She cheered.