Great Conversationalist

A warning for strict Rarity/Spike shippers, turn back now. A small Twilight/Spike story that actually doesn't have much Twilight, I wrote it quickly in a night because . . . well I felt like it and it seemed to work better short. Regardless this has moved into a romance genre, but it's not large enough to merit its own story, so consider yourself warned.

Yada yada Lauren Faust, yada yada Hasbro, yada yada two strike law.

Enjoy the shortness.

At first all he felt towards the owl was animosity, it stemmed from a fear of being replaced. One cave misunderstanding and speech from Twilight later and he warmed up to the noctua, in retrospect running away may have been a bit melodramatic. Owlowiscious had immediately disappeared the very next night and remained unseen for long periods of time, usually only showing up for the colder Equestrian nights. Spike would have a bowl of pellets waiting beside the windowsill on these nights, prepared for the owl's arrival, which soon became clockwork and predictable. This night was no different, with Owlowiscious showing up at eleven on the dot, Spike leaning on a table with a lantern in his left hand.

"Hey," Spike greets, closing the window to keep in the heat. Spike being awake while Twilight was asleep, it was so rare it belonged to the supernatural, but not tonight. Owlowiscious quickly digs his beak into the bowl, clearly starving. The dragon uses these nights to clear his mind of burdens, well a particular burden. "So . . . it's great to see you again." He stutters, it's always hard to get the conversation rolling but he manages. "You look good." Owlowiscious glares at him from over the bowl, drastically tilting his head to the left. Spike sets the lantern near the bowl of pellets, giving his arm a much needed rest. "Well . . . I think I've figured it out."

"Really?" He imagines the owl saying, which at first he considered odd but has grown to accept, much like the owl itself.

"Yeah, I can't pretend this doesn't exist, no matter how hard I try."

"No, you can't." He replies.

"But I'm sure they'll go away sooner or later." Spike claims, voice full of doubt. "I mean it happened with Rarity, it could happen with Twilight." Yes, these conversations always focused on that particular pony, though there are several subjects emerging from it. All those clichés, they were true, and while he could rant on and on about how he finds himself staring at her when she's not looking or how he always wants to be close to her he'd like to spare this owl all the minor details and just stick to the big picture.

"If you really believe that than why are you down here with me and not upstairs in your cozy bed?" This is followed by absolute silence, during which Spike acknowledges how sad this scene is.

"Well it's not like I have options here, either I tell her or I don't." He can already picture what would happen if he didn't keep his feelings bottled up, admittedly it is all pessimistic visions of the future. One instance has Twilight both firing him and kicking him out of the house, at which point he'll have to wander Equestria until his untimely demise at the hands of some unavoidable force. Granted this might be worst case material but it's still a possibility. On the brighter side of his mind is the small chance that things would work out and he'd get the feel-good movie ending, get the girl and all that nonsense. Sadly there are several reasons for that being labeled a 'small chance', even if one were to ignore the species and age difference.

He could easily swipe the age one though, after all he was a baby dragon, but in pony years he was . . . well he might actually be younger in that regard, now it seemed worse. "Why was it so much easier when I had a crush on Rarity?" He asked the owl.

"Because it was only a crush." Owlowiscious claimed, confusing Spike.

"And this is?" He leans closer to the bird, hoping all of his problems will be solved by whatever the owl has to say. He knows they won't be though, by the end of the night it'll still come down to two options, to tell or not.

"Love." It's rare that one word can have such a large meaning, but in this case it does. He could list a number of things he'd love; he'd love to be a colt, he'd love to tell Twilight everything, he'd love to . . . to . . . to just hold her close and never let go. These are the things that are only possible in dreams, and as far as he's concerned that's where they'll stay.

"Twilight says I don't stand a chance with Rarity, what's that supposed to tell me?" He asked, pushing away from the notion of love.

"Jealousy, possibly."

"In my dreams maybe." He laughs, and on the thought of dreams, "Thanks Owlowiscious, it was nice talking with you." Spike grabs the lantern and turns to the stairs, distraught over having made no true progress this night. "I'll see you soon." The light from the flames disappears as Spike ascends to the next level of the tree. Standing at the base of the second flight of stairs he blows out the lantern and places it against the wall. It's easy enough to walk up the eight steps to their room, and the one thing Ponyville has that Canterlot doesn't is starlight, which will be enough to guide him to his bed. Twilight is asleep in her bed, looking cozy and happy and all around peaceful.

His imagination runs wild with a braver version of him waking her up and passionately kissing her, but it'll never go that far. In fact he's certain it'll never leave his mind, unlike that secret crush he told Twilight and Pinkie Pie of. He stands there for what feels like forever but is actually only two minutes, just staring at her in what can only be described as fear. Not the first thing to come to mind admittedly, but it's there nonetheless.

He'd drag his feet on the way to his bed if the claws didn't scrape against the floor. If he's lucky he'll have more blissful dreams of an alternate reality where he and Twilight are more than friends, and if he's really lucky it'll come true someday. He's never been a big believer in luck though, and he's not willing to bet on a future where everything goes the way he wants it to. The night's filled with dreams that will be remembered long after he's awake.

Twilight's no longer snuggled up in her bed, which is neatly made with the edges of the blanket tucked under the mattress. A clock on the wall shows how late he is for work, which makes for a good jolt of energy. He rushes downstairs, tripping a few times but immediately regaining his balance. He nearly runs into Twilight, who's looking between a book and a scroll, a quill levitating over the latter. The pony greets him with a smile that melts his heart. "Did you sleep okay?"

No."Yes, I slept great." He lies, faking a yawn for her.

"Good, Owlowiscious was here and I didn't want to wake you." She explains as Spike walks towards the kitchen, craving gems for breakfast. "By the way, I know." She reveals, to vague for his comfort.

That dirty little owl, he stabbed me in the back! Spike believes, until realizing that the owl only had the capability to say one word and anything else was just his mind. Calm down Spike, this is probably just one of those sitcom misunderstandings. "About what?" He says, crossing his claws.

"That you put out food for him." He gives a sigh of relief from the kitchen out of Twilight's sight. "It was sweet of you." She loves him, it's in her voice and eyes. It's clearly not as much as he loves her, but it's enough.

For now anyway.

A/N: Told you it was short, I'm proud to call it mine though.

Have a great night, and an even better Samhain (Halloween), hope it's as fun as you imagine.

See you soon,

E.

(Insert evil laugh, maybe some lightning in the background, hands rising from graves and all that)