Dog Nonce

by forbloodysummer

Chapter 1: You could always try googling it, if you're not sure what 'nonce' means?

This is just what I needed.

Even in October, the early afternoons in Barcelona were pleasant, and Sunset loved nothing more than spending half an hour sitting out on her patio with a coffee and a cigarette. Though she’d woken from her siesta on the sofa a quarter hour before and already made it halfway through her coffee, she leaned her head back in her chair with her eyes closed, still dozy.

The coffee had been the most essential thing for adjusting her body clock to the new time schedule, getting her back to a productive state after sleeping for a couple of hours at lunch. Most people in her office didn’t bother with siestas anymore, but one did not simply move to the Mediterranean and not embrace a wonderful tradition like that. They almost made her hate mornings less. Maybe she’d have time for another smoke when she was done, to be finished on the walk back to work. For now, though, her hands were busy.

Spike moaned languidly beside her. She knew it was just what he needed, too.

Sunset wished she could provide more than her gentle ministrations, that she could give him all that Twilight’s little robot dog had, the one built just for Spike, but… He’d been too enthusiastic with it, the poor robot hadn’t made it, and it wasn’t like there was anyone around who knew how to fix it. Not anymore.

But the change of scenery really had been just what they both needed: a chance to start afresh, an ocean away, to build a new life which wasn’t defined by an absence.

And when Spike was pent up – as was perfectly natural as a frequent occurrence for dogs – all Sunset had to offer was her own assistance. She remembered their early trysts as purely mechanical, where Spike had a build up of pressure, and she lent a hand to ease it. But, well...

Grief was complicated. And confusing. Also, Sunset rolled her eyes to herself, I am really good at oversimplification and stating the obvious. Of course it was complicated and confusing. Of course nothing could have prepared her for it. And they were both hurting. They both felt the hole where a person used to be.

And, since they’d each loved Twilight, they each knew what the other was going through, in a way that separated them from her wider circle of friends. That gulf had been there long before Sunset and Spike moved continents. Perhaps that was part of why they had to.

But even then, with a new start in a new land, Sunset hadn’t expected that she and Spike would find comfort in each other. Not just mere companionship and friendly affection, but love. A deep connection far beyond pet and master, or friend and friend.

It was that love which had made her throw caution to the wind and embrace the notion of performing such an intimate act outside. She was in her own garden, of course, but perfectly visible if someone in an overlooking house happened to glance outside. As might be expected, the thought did give her a bit of a thrill at the risk of being caught.

But mostly it brought a weird blend of defiance and relaxation. She and Spike were in love. It didn’t matter what anyone else thought, and she wouldn’t be pressured or shamed into hiding how she felt. So what if some student or legal aide saw them from a window? They might even learn something, Sunset grinned, thinking of how she’d honed her caring but efficient technique.

“Mmmm, yeah, I love it when you do that,” Spike said, as if prompted by her thoughts. There was a growl in his voice, a huskiness no human could match, and it let him add a dominance to their dalliances unglimpsed in his demeanour the rest of the time. “Maybe try a little deeper,” he added more softly into her ear.

Sunset had almost laughed, the first time he’d tried that voice, but was held back by the fluttering it caused in her. Having since embraced it, she quivered all the more when Spike used it on her, and never hesitated to give him what he asked for with it.

“Ooh, yeah, that’s it,” Spike encouraged. In those moments, she could almost forget that he was still a child, sinking into how he commanded her. Even if, at other times, he used his literal puppy dog eyes to remind her how young and vulnerable he was, and how desperately he needed her love and affection. Yeah, he wasn’t above playing up whatever he had to when he wanted certain things of her.

And right now there was even more that he wanted, with how he started pawing at her! That was always a reliable sign that Sunset wouldn’t need to work her magic for much longer.

With that as her cue, she looked into Spike’s eyes before kissing him on the lips, hurriedly leaning in closer to him and taking his tongue into her mouth. The meaty flavour of the lamb pouch he’d had for lunch flooded her senses as she pushed to give him the most overwhelming experience she could at the crucial moment.

There we are.

And then it was over, as Spike gradually relaxed against her, and she pulled back to gaze into his eyes again. His were a little glazed, and he breathed heavily, still recovering from the journey he’d just ‘arrived’ from.

And what a journey they’d both been on. He’d gone from a canine as plain as any other – if much cuter – to the first dog ever to talk, bonding with his master in ways most dogs could only dream of. Which had turned to ashes of grief, and a promise of a new beginning, before finally he reclined against a young lady on a patio in Barcelona. And that young lady? She’d started out a pony. Soon after, a pony princess-in-training. Then the falling out with Celestia, the mirror, and the iron fist she’d ruled a school with for four years. A new princess, a battle, a flood of redemption, flashes of heroism. Love. Loss. An escape to halfway across the world, a fresh start, and a second chance at love. What a journey, for a girl not yet even 21.

“You’re such a good bitch of mine,” Spike said, reaching up to cup Sunset’s face with a paw with a truly satisfied look on his face.

“Mare, if anything,” Sunset laughed, shaking her head at the compliment for the hundredth time. After a few moments, she pulled away and dragged herself to her feet, knowing how easy it would be to stay there with Spike for the whole afternoon if she didn’t, and the amount of trouble that would cause at work. She gathered up her coffee cup in the hand that needed less washing, threw Spike a cheeky wink, and made her way inside.

“Nah, I got it right the first time,” he called after her, sounding so smug she could practically hear him sprawling out even more slothfully on the patio chairs behind her.

Maybe he was right. Did it matter? Not at all. Their life together was what it was. And what mattered was that, for the first time in a long while, both of them were happy. My name is Sunset Shimmer, and I am a dog nonce.

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