Disclaimer: I don't own My Little Pony; Friendship is Magic!

Title: Bad Taste

Summary: Spike finds himself slipping into Starlight's gaggle of friends after a trip to buy some ink goes awry.

...

Spike had developed a passion for cooking young, shadowing the royal chefs in the castle when Twilight practiced her spells, and he had always been proud to have such an easy to please audience. Twilight forgot to eat, back in the day, though she was much better about it now, and had gobbled down anything he made with gusto. One time, she ate a burrito with a sapphire in it, hyped up on caffeine and no sleep. Spike has never been more amazed.

That being said, Spike is now the second-best cook Twilight knows. No one in Ponyville is reckless enough to compete with Pinkie Pie. Granted, she mostly made pastries, but pancakes weren't out of her skill range, so Spike had long been defeated. He could make a million omelets- it'd never beat her fluffy emerald waffles.

So Spike spent some mornings cooking just for himself. It's almost freeing- no worries about gemstones slipping into Twilight's- but still a bit lonely. He missed crunching and munching while Twilight sat across the way, nose in a book, floating far enough out of reach to avoid crumbs. But, hey, being a Princess comes first.

And then there's Starlight. A frown comes to Spike's face, unbidden. The mare appreciated and enjoyed what he made, of course, but she'd also made a habit of skipping big meals. Spike thinks the crystal table intimidates her. She still chows down, and often, perhaps moreso than Twilight in her student days, but she didn't seem to care what the food is so much as it's there and filling. Spike once caught her making a sandwich with soggy bread. Another situation had her chewing on dry oats with no sugar or honey, which is, in Spike's domain, bad taste. Practically forbidden, really. All those gross enslaved village muffins must've deadened her taste buds.

After he eats, Spike goes to his next biggest chore; cleaning. With a castle this big and full of reflective surfaces, it's easily the most challenging task he has. Thank Celestia for Twilight and the girls pitching in on the weekends. Spike washes the dishes, then mops the main hall, then dusts the shelves. Little things. One room at a time.

Spike's halfway through Twilight's room- folding the bedsheets to be washed, actually- when he notices the inkwells. There's only seven, whereas Twilight prefers an even ten. You never know when the mood will strike a letter or thesis, she likes to say; best to be prepared. A stack of parchment sits in a drawer nearby, along with a drying rack, should she feel the need to set them down for something.

The dragon contemplates the sheets. Clean bedspreads are important, but Twilight would rather have full stocks. He's a bit like her editor that way- fixing every little mistake around the castle, from missing inkwells to that one sink that only half formed in the downstairs bathroom. It grants them both piece of mind, that way. He can always leave a note for Starlight asking her to take care of the bedspread. Maybe the windows too, while she was at it.

One quick scale washing later, Spike enters the town with a basket. The sun glitters like a yellow button, holes full of paint that dripped and stained. Maybe he ought to stop using button metaphors.

The mare at the supply store knows Spike well- and not just because he's the only dragon in Ponyville- and quickly points him to the newest shipment of inkwells. He peruses a bit, finding the kind Twilight enjoys most, then pays. Three big jars of ink for the road, humming a little tune.

That's when things start getting weird.

Spike must've closed his eyes for a second- just one, really, to get a better grasp on the breeze- when a warm body smacks into him, or perhaps he smacks into it, and the dragon rebounds, hitting the ground with a thud. A loud, girlish scream makes him wince.

"You got it all over me, you scaly oaf! Ew ew ew ew ew ew eeeeeewww!"

"Trixie," Starlight says, offering a hoof to help Spike up. "I don't think ink stains deserve seven ews. More like three or four."

Trixie hopped daintily from hoof to hoof, soft blue fur splattered with black. She stuck her tongue out. "You try it some time!"

"Sorry, sorry." Spike dusted himself off; he, at least, had survived the downpour. "My fault."

"No kidding," she sniffed.

Starlight's horn glowed. Bit by bit the ink harmlessly left her fur, refilling the upended bottles. For an encore, they were corked and placed back into their designated basket. "There you go."

Trixie examined herself, then looked at the mare with awe. "You've got to teach me that."

"Maybe later," she dismissed, nudging the basket back into Spike's arms. "You okay?"

"Uh, yeah. Yeah, I think so."

"He's fine." Trixie stamped a hoof. "I'm obviously the injured party here."

"You're not bleeding, you're not broken- I think you'll be fine."

The magician swooned, falling onto Starlight's side. "Starrrrlight," she whined.

Starlight rolled her eyes, glancing fondly at Spike, as if to say 'she's always like this, you know?' Spike knew. "We're heading over to Maud's for a snack. Would you like to join us?"

"Me?"

"Yeah. I just figured... you're a dragon, the cave's full of crystals- you'd enjoy it, I mean." Her eyes darted from him to Trixie and back again. "I thought."

That's another thing about Starlight. She's a lot like Twilight in terms of nervousness. Only Twilight never made jokes about enslaving ponies and dark magic. Now that he really thought about it, they were really only complimentary on the surface. "Sure! I just gotta drop these off real quick- don't want any more spills today."

Trixie flicked her mane dismissively. "Didn't want the first one."

Spike gave an awkward laugh. Deep down, he'd already begun to regret accepting the invitation.

"...so I brought him along as an apology," Starlight concluded nervously, scuffing a hoof on the ground. "I hope you don't mind. I know you're not a big fan of strange ponies in your personal space."

"Spike's not a strange pony," Maud says crisply. "He's a strange dragon."

"You're right, you're right. Still, I'm sorry."

The earth pony shook her head. "Spike is alright."

"Uh, Maud?" Trixie magically held up a ladle of greenish substance from the pot on the table. "Not to sound uncultured, but... what is this?"

"Rock soup."

"Ah. I see. Rock... soup."

"It's almost time to put the rocks in, actually. Thanks for reminding me." Maud took the ladle into one hoof and stirred, once, then began painstakingly searching the cupboards.

Trixie stepped aside, ears back, with a smile that looked just a bit off on her face. "The Great and Powerful Trixie is allergic. To rock soup."

Maud gave the smallest shrug Spike had ever seen. "More for me and Starlight."

Starlight frowned at the pot but didn't look discouraged. "Do you have any salt?"

Spike resisted the urge to gag. It was just as he thought- all that equal sign village food had wrecked her taste buds. Nopony alive really liked rock soup. Maud had only made it so she could put off going to the market another day. Spike was certain that even Pinkie Pie, raised a rock farmer (the only ponies who actually made the stuff; Spike had only heard of it through recipes), had a deep, burning hatred for it. Hidden deep down. Somewhere. Maybe in her tail.

Still, he had to admire the view. The waterfall was a nice touch, keeping the cavern from feeling too quiet. Gemstones lined the floors, the walls, the ceiling- just begging to be studied Or, even better, eaten.

Starlight had taken the opportunity of the lull to examine the cavern as well, scratching her chin. "Maud, I have to ask- how stable is this place?"

"Pretty stable."

"Granted, I was curious to see if you wanted me to put up a barrier of some kind? Something that would ensure your safety, anyway."

Maud turned to her. "No."

Starlight looked at her, torn between hurt and acceptance. "Okay."

She paused, then rephrased. "Magic has been proven to affect the structure of rocks. I want to study them raw."

"Of course," she said warmly, thankful it was only a simple reason instead of an offense. "That's your whole job description. Still, if you need any help, be sure to stop by."

Trixie, nose just barely above the splash zone, was examining the pool of water under the fall, eyes narrowed. "Is this safe for drinking, you think?"

Maud moseyed on over to watch with her. "With enough sifting and boiling, I suspect it might be."

Spike knew it was bad to mess with another cook's craft but found himself at the cauldron anyway, tossing in hints of spices and seasonings he hoped might save the dish a little. Starlight watched him work, bemused.

"Looking back, I'm not sure this was the best idea," she said finally. "You must be bored out of your mind by now."

"And you aren't?"

"Not really, no," a loud splash echoed through the cavern. "Trixie never fails to make things more interesting."

"Is she really mad at me?"

"Honestly? I think she just enjoys being pampered. If a little ink gets her sympathy and hugs, she'll be more than happy to get inked."

"She can always just ask. For hugs, I mean."

Starlight shrugged, biting her lip. "We're not the most... emotive ponies, Spike. Not about feelings. By which I mean feelings, not friendship lesson feelings."

"I gotcha."

"Good. I hate when I ramble."

"Hate is a feeling," he pointed out.

"Hate is easy. I hate a lot of stuff. Like super noisy chewers and ponies who whistle when they breathe the wrong way and that one pony whose will is too stubborn to bend to your will with some simple brainwashing, so you have to get your magic out and do it yourself."

Spike gulped. "I- I didn't know that."

Starlight shrugged again, self-consciously. "The whistle-breathing isn't their fault, and getting mad at loud chewers doesn't solve anything. So why bother?"

"But... you can still complain. You do know that, right?"

"Oh, believe me. I complain." Starlight waved the notion away with a hoof, then changed the topic. "Well, I should really get going. I only came by to see if Maud wanted that barrier."

"What about the rock soup?"

"Maud can have it. I'm not the biggest fan of soups."

Spike glanced at the glittering gemstones. He knew that taking even one would get him in trouble, because Maud is like that, even if Starlight didn't. "Where to?"

Starlight hesitated, eyes flickering around the cavern. "Oh, you know."

"Do I?"

"Probably."

"Cool."

"I like kites."

Spike watched her magically adjust the string. There's probably an official name for said string, but he doesn't know it. "I know. You told Twilight 'n me a while back; when we found the ones stashed in your room." She said it was okay to clean it- how was he supposed to know she had a hobby?"

"I know, I just..." She shuffled awkwardly on her haunches. "I really like kites."

"You don't have to, like, prove that to me, you know."

"Sorry. Force of habit."

"I don't know much about kites, honestly."

"At the risk of sounding like Twilight- there's plenty of books."

"You won't teach me?"

"Once I get started, I don't really stop. S'better to just find a book."

"That seems to be a fairly common thing for us." Spike shuffled a bit closer; he'd lean on her, if she were Twilight or the other girls, but she's not and that would be awkward. Starlight had a very noticeable personal bubble he preferred to respect. "What got you into kites?"

Starlight blinked at him, then the sky. Spike noticed her cheeks begin to turn a darker color. "Oh, it's embarrassing now."

"Is this a feelings thing?"

"It absolutely is a feelings thing."

"Oh. Okay. I'm decent at feelings things. All that time with Twilight paid off. So, uh, if you want to get all mushy, it's okay."

Starlight's eyes flickered to him, then away. She gave an embarrassed grunt. "Oh, it's silly now. When I was just a filly, a bunch of the older ponies would go fly kites on the hill over my village, and I'd watch from my bedroom. I always wanted one of my own, and you know how I was with sharing stuff, so I read up on them. I finally got around to buying them in Ponyville."

"You could've asked your folks for one and gone flying yourself."

"I could've," she agreed, "but I didn't like going outside. I spent so much time cooped up- whenever I decided to get out for a bit, everypony would stare at me and whisper. So whenever I took a break from studying I'd watch out my window." She waved her hoof, like the movement could conjure up filly Starlight, spending all her time being bitter at the world as she peered out of her house at the other ponies. "I'd watch the kites and feel, well, jealous. I wanted to fly away from the village, like they did, and I wasn't sure I could. They could go wherever the wanted but still had an anchor to home. It looked... nice. But I didn't think that was there for me, you know?"

Spike watched as Starlight guided the kite through a sudden breeze. "Well, you got out. There's that, at least."

"And yet I obviously can't be trusted without somepony watching over me!" She kicked a chunk of dirt out of the ground, ears low. "Sorry, sorry- I'm getting snappish."

"No, no, that's okay. It takes a lot of courage to talk about stuff like this." He awkwardly patted her hoof, near where it bent. "When I was little, I grew up in the libraries of Canterlot. It was really stuffy and quiet, but I didn't mind. Everything was always changing- Twilight got better and better at magic, she grew, I grew, the guards switched and moved, books got re-stacked- but the library itself never did." He rubbed a claw in the dirt. "I still kind of miss it."

"It must've been hard; Twilight becoming a Princess."

"That was cool. I'm proud of her. But we lost the library."

"The castle has plenty of library room."

"But it's not a library. It's this big rocky hunk-a-junk that's a pain to upkeep."

"Change it back!"

Spike raised an eyebrow. "You can't really un-do a magic rainbow blast, Starlight."

"No, not you- though we can always work on that later." She tugged on the string with her magic. "Discord Draconequus, if you don't turn this kite back into its proper form immediately I'll-"

There was a poofing sound, followed by a scaly-furry mass settling in behind them. Spike flinched- the chaos being admittedly freaked him out, especially after he popped in on him in his sleep.

"What's the matter, Starlight?" He hummed, setting his chin on his lion paw."I thought you'd be fond of Sir Porks-a-Lot. It's a callback."

"We were having a conversation," she huffed, reeling the flying pig in. "Besides; wouldn't this work better on Trixie?"

"Yes, but I'm bored, and you were the first pony I thought of."

"Fluttershy kicked you out, didn't she?"

He brushed it off, examining his claws. "Something about a special delicate recipe." Discord squinted at him imperiously. "Shouldn't you be with the Princess of Feelwings?"

Spike's tail twinged. "I can be here if I like. After all; it's a nice day for kite flying."

"Discord," Starlight pressed.

"Fine, fine. Just let my hard work go unappreciated. It's fine." He snapped his fingers and the kite returned.

Starlight blinked at it. "You're being oddly complaint today."

"Yes, yes. It's almost as if I'm being written by someone not fitting of my typical antics." The Draconequus stretched with a groan. "So, is Spikey-Wikey here another member of the herd now?"

"The herd?" She asked.

"You're right- herd is much too boring. How about gaggle? A gaggle of secondary characters." He nodded to himself. "Yes, I think that fits nicely."

"I have no idea what you're talking about," she rebuffed.

"Face it, Starlight; you recruit oddities and redeemed villains like Pinkie Pie does pieces of taffy." Discord rolled, comfortably coiling around himself. "A gaggle of weird friends."

Starlight blinked at him, then stiffly turned back to her kite. "I'll... take that as a compliment."

Spike blinked at them both, the moment ruined. Starlight was back to her usual 'I don't do feelings' self, which was par for the course, and Discord was half-asleep watching the kite fly. He shuffled, awkwardly settling against Discord's side. This didn't feel so bad, really. Quiet, but not bad. Maybe a little nice, even.

"Can I try?"

Starlight passed him the string. "Sure! Go right ahead. Just try not to hit any trees."

Author's Note: I am increasingly pleased with Ms. Glimmer's Gaggle of Friends, and it'd be kinda neat if Spike got to join a new group of pals. Here we are!

-Mandaree1