A Lovely Apology

by PresentPerfect

Rating: teen
Tags: My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Rainbow Dash, Comedy, Filthy Rich, Rarity, Romance, Scootaloo, Spitfire
Length: 6368

Spitfire decides to make up for an embarrassing mistake by inviting Filthy Rich out for a night on the town.

After she winds up inside the wrong cake, Spitfire needs to reclaim her honor as a Wonderbolt. What better way than by showing Ponyville's wealthiest resident -- and most eligible bachelor -- a night on the town? With maybe a little revenge on the side.

Part of the Crack Pairing Circleship Collab. Also a standalone story of the Whiskverse! (Familiarity with Whiskverse or CPCSC not necessary.)

Cover art by C-Puff!

Published 2013-10-21 03:30:02 UTC
Last updated 2013-10-21 03:30:02 UTC

A Lovely Apology

Through the cardboard, cake, and one too many white Stalliongradis, I thought I heard my cue.

"Surp--" I'd have been a little more enthusiastic if it hadn't taken me three separate tries to slam my hoof through the box top. Some idiot, probably Soarin, had taped the damn box shut. As the one who talked me into this lame stunt, he could have at least gotten the setup right.

Outside, I thought I heard somepony ask, "Is that cake moving?"

And then I breached the box and finally felt cool air that didn't smell like frosting and crumbs. I burst up through the cardboard and the cake and spread my wings, shouting, "S'prise!" Being drunk helped with the volume.

And then, keeping my eyes closed so I could actually get through this ordeal, I began to sing.

"Happy biiiirthday to you!"

And writhe. Did I mention I was writhing?

"Happy birthday tooo youuuu!"

I must have gotten frosting on my hooves on the way out, because I could feel myself rubbing it all over myself. Ugh, that wasn't part of the plan.

"Happy biiiirthday, Priiiiincess--"

Somepony, most likely one of those hunky and imposing royal guards, the ones who all look the same and never react no matter what you rub in their faces, cleared his throat loudly. I got the feeling I should stop. I opened one eye, and then the other, and then they nearly fell out of my head.

"This ain't the palace," was all I, in my alcohol-fueled genius, could think to say.

I was outside, for one.

For two, standing all around me were a bunch of little fillies. There were a couple of colts, too, but they were all sitting, fidgeting with their front hooves and watching the ground.

Fuck me sideways.

The filly nearest my confectionary prison, a pink earth pony wearing a frilly dress and a gaudy tiara that marked her as the birthday girl, snorted. Then giggled. Then the whole crowd of fillies began laughing. Hard. The colts remained mute.

As for me, I turned redder than my cutie mark and sank back into the cake. Soarin, you're gonna get it.

A Lovely Apology
a My Little Pony: Friendship Is Magic fanfiction
by Present Perfect

"Mister Rich, once again, on behalf of the Wonderbolts, I want to officially apologize--"

"No need, Miss Spitfire. Three official apologies were quite enough."

He was very studiously not glancing through the crack in his bathroom door, behind which I was toweling off after borrowing his shower. It was a nice shower: adjustable flow head, massage settings, chrome fixtures. Nice bathroom, too.

"Then let me personally--"

"Again, no need." Despite the afternoon's little fracas, he sounded nothing but calm and genial. "I get the feeling we were both dupes in this little charade. I'd much rather just put the whole thing behind me than deliberate on who was or was not at fault."

"Me too," I said quickly, and poked my head out the door. "And you're right that I was set up." I scowled. "I should've known Princess Luna's birthday is tomorrow. I feel pretty stupid for letting my squadmates trick me like that. Rest assured, somepony's getting KP for at least a week when I get back to Cloudsdale." I sighed. "And also rest assured, had this been a legitimate appearance, I would have been in uniform, made an aerial entrance," I spread my wings for emphasis, "and been sober."

"I take it you've done this before then?"

I couldn't help it: my cheeks turned red. "Two years ago. Princess Celestia seemed to like it. Had to be flat off my ass drunk to get me to do it then, too."

He lifted an eyebrow. "I wouldn't have thought you susceptible to stage fright."

I looked away from him. "Only for things like this." Deep breath. "Anyway, I still want to do something to make up for it."

"Really, Miss Spitfire," he said in that same slow, deliberate tone, "I'd think the, er, personal embarrassment you suffered would be penance enough."

I cleared my throat and leaned against the door frame. I looked cooler that way. "Be that as it may, Mister Rich, I insist you let me do something to make things up to you and your daughter."

He gazed steadily at me for a couple moments, then gave me a lopsided smile. "Very well, Miss Spitfire. I know a mare defending her honor when I see one. But you needn't worry about Tiara." He closed his eyes and shook his head. "She's not a big Wonderbolt fan and I doubt there's much she'd want from you. Plus she'll be spending the weekend in her room."

"I gotcha," I said, not getting it at all. And then it clicked. Daddy always did say I was a featherbrain.

"Wait, why'd your daughter want a Wonderbolt at her birthday party if she's not a fan?"

His turn to be embarrassed. He glanced down at the floor, his mouth pulling tight, and coughed twice. I know a stallion caught in a deception when I see one.

"Revenge, Miss Spitfire, I'm sorry to say."

Still a bit of a featherbrain. "Can't say I follow your contrail there."

He looked me in the eye, and I could see pain tugging at the edges of his face. "Diamond Tiara has... shall we say, a less than friendly relationship with some of her classmates. One in particular is a Wonderbolts fan, and my Diamond thought she might get a rise out of the filly if she could tell her the Captain of the Wonderbolts had been at her birthday party."

Wow. That's pretty devious for a filly. No wonder I hate kids.

"Needless to say, when the truth came out, I was a tad upset." He lifted his chin just slightly. "I do not tolerate that sort of behavior under my roof."

"Sounds to me like she's a bit of a hoofful."

He nodded. "At times, yes."

I nodded along with him as a smile broke over my face. "Then I know just the thing you need, Mister Rich: An evening to relax and somepony to talk to."

He cocked his head, obviously considering what I meant. "Go on..."

I walked over and put a hoof on his shoulder. "Get your nice duds together and I'll show you a night on the town."

"You mean... a date?" It was obvious he hadn't expected that.

"You're not married, are you?" I hadn't noticed any mare in the house. No sense in being forward.

He cleared his throat. "Um, well... no, I'm not married."

I nodded and grinned. "Then it's a date! Pick you up at seven!"

Ponyville's not a great place to be stuck for any length of time if you feel like doing things. Despite some recent additions, it's still just a two-horse Canterlot suburb and pretty podunk when you get right down to it. Plus, there was always the danger of running into Rainbow Dash. I'm pretty incognito without my Wonderbolts getup, but if there was anypony I'd expect to recognize me, it'd be her.

Not that I minded the attention normally. She's pretty cute, and I admire her spirit and loyalty to her friends. She reminds me of me. But right then, a squealing cadet was not at the top of my list of ponies to meet. The pony who was worked in a carousel.

Mister Rich had given me the address of Ponyville's first, foremost and only fashionista so I could pick up a decent dress for our date. As I stood outside the building, glancing first down to the scribbled note that told me where it was and then back up at the place, I couldn't help but wonder whether whoever had designed the boutique wasn't just a little sick in the head. Or entirely nuts.

The sign in the window said OPEN, so I gave up on the gawking and let myself in. Just as soon as the bell rang above me, the shop's proprietress gave me some canned spiel about things being unique and chic, further cementing my negative opinions on fashion designers.

Just looking at that one, I could tell I was in for an afternoon of primping and fussing. With her pristine white coat and her perfectly styled purple mane, I had her pegged as a prima donna from the moment I laid eyes on her.

And then it hit me: I knew this pony. I knew her, and she wasn't exactly high on my list of ponies I'd ever wanted to meet again. I had to make a decision: hide behind my best crowd-pleaser smile and pretend she hadn't almost killed me once, or let her know who I was and see where that got me.

I chose the greater of the two evils.

"Hi there, nice to see you again!"

She gave me blankest stare I think I've ever seen from a pony. "You seem to have me at a disadvantage. I'm terribly sorry, but it would seem your name has slipped my mind."

"Ah, you'll remember it eventually. So, send any pegasi plummeting to their deaths lately?" They don't call me Spitfire for nothing.

The look on her face! Her perfectly positioned designer glasses fell off her nose, her jaw dropped open and she just stared at me. And when she finally figured out that she could talk, it wasn't in the practiced and measured voice she used when I came in.

"Spitfire?"

"The one and only!"

In a flash, she was on her knees in front of me, babbling like a fanfilly and hugging my legs, switching back and forth between profuse apology and awestruck glee. Just one more thing I hate about fashion ponies.

"I can't believe you're here! First can I say once again just how sorry I am that I almost sent you and two of your teammates to untimely deaths, to say nothing of myself? Oh but whatever brings the captain of the Wonderbolts to my shop? I really can't apologize enough, you understand. The way I acted was dreadful! Spitfire is in my shop! Wait till I tell Rainbow Da--"

I shoved my hoof in her mouth. It didn't stop her from talking, but at least I could get a word in.

"Rainbow Dash doesn't need to know I'm here." I sighed. "I accept your apology and would appreciate it if you acted your age. I need a dress and was told this is the place to come in Ponyville."

"Oh, but of course!" Instantly, she was on her hooves. "For a formal engagement, no doubt. The upcoming Gala perhaps? Or maybe you're looking for something stylish but comfortable to lounge in between flight shows? I can only imagine after being in that garishly tight suit -- no offense to your designer, darling -- that having something wearable but breathable is a luxury!"

"Actually," I said, "I'm going on a date tonight. I just need something that'll look good for a night on the town."

I could see the gears turning in her head. "A date? Here in Ponyville? It must be in Ponyville. Why else would you stop here on such short notice?" She paused and looked me straight in the eye. "If you don't mind my asking, it's not with Rainbow Dash, is it?"

"No," I said quickly. "Uh, why do you ask?"

"Well, it's just that she's a very good friend of mine and I'd hate to think she's given in to some sort of fillyish crush and compromised her chances of joining the Wonderbolts." Then, turning her head, she added, "That is, assuming your group has rules against members fraternizing."

I rolled my eyes. "You're too clever for your own good, you know that? No, it's not with Rainbow Dash, it's with Filthy Rich. He's the one who suggested I come here."

The moment that left my mouth, I knew I shouldn't have said it. And in moments, I knew too that I was standing in the presence of not only Ponyville's Premiere Fashionista, but Ponyville's Premiere Town Gossip as well.

"Mister Rich?" Her hoof fluttered to her chest. "Heavens, I never would have guessed! And he sent you to me? How thoughtful!" She began trotting around the supply area of her store, gathering up items from the shelves. "Why, it's good to hear a pony his age is getting back into the dating scene! Not that I'm judging, mind. You're a pretty mare even if one disregards your fame, and it's no surprise you'd catch his eye. It's just been rather a while since..."

She stopped then, blinked a few times, then shook her head. "Well, nevermind. Any chance to design for a Wonderbolt is worth it!" She flashed a grin at me.

"Actually..." I drew in a breath. "It was my idea. Kind of a long story." I let it out. "Would prefer if you kept this all under wraps. And I just need something off the shelf, kinda in a hurry."

Her face crumbled and collapsed. "Very well, I'll respect your privacy. I won't mind giving up one of my samples either, not to somepony like you. I know I've got a thing or three that will look just smashing on you!"

I had to marvel just a bit at her sense of coordination, all those pieces and parts just floating back where they belonged at the same time. Then she moved over to the mannequines in the show area, browsing her own wares.

"Oh, and Spitfire? If you don't mind a little advice..."

I looked at her. She was gazing at me without giving away any emotion, quite the change from how she'd acted since I entered.

"Yeah?"

Her eyes searched the floor for a moment before locking onto mine.

"Don't bring up his wife."

I left a few bits lighter and one dress richer, having insisted that, if not for the dress, I should at least pay to keep Rarity's mouth shut. She really wanted nothing more than to give me a free dress as some lame continuation of her apology, but I ain't into charity, at least not out of uniform.

I couldn't complain about the dress, either. It just so happened that she had one in Wonderbolt blue, something she called a "tan-gair-ah" with an open back and lots of fringe over the croup. I'm not what you'd call knowledgeable about fashion, but I don't mind having an opportunity to look sexy, and I had to admit, I made that dress look hot.

With a good hour or so to kill before date time, I found myself a nice cloud to sit on. Hopefully it'd keep me out of the public eye, let me ponywatch a little, maybe catch a quick nap. I drew the cloud around myself a little more and spied on Ponyville at large.

I don't get to do this much. Usually when I'm watching large numbers of ponies, it's through flight goggles or a chain link fence, and they're all cheering for my team. Here, everything was peaceful. Ponies were working, playing, just doing... normal pony stuff. I got a weird tugging feeling in my chest at the notion and distracted myself from it by listing off all the ponies I could see.

There was the Mayor, headed back to City Hall. And a mailmare; she must have a long route. A couple of fruit vendors out in the market area. Fluttershy, that pegasus that Rainbow Dash was praising after the tornado, led a herd of rabbits down the street. What a sight.

Ah, and speak of Discord, there was Rainbow Dash too, watching a little orange and purple filly balance on top of the fountain in the town square. I couldn't figure out what they were doing at first. Then the filly jumped off the fountain, buzzed her wings for about two seconds, and faceplanted in the dirt. Dash picked her up after a second and said something to her, then crouched down, flaring her wings.

Flying lessons? I had you all wrong, Rainbow Dash.

I watched the filly try again. And again. And again. She didn't improve at all. As old as she must've been, with wings that small, she'd be scrambling to catch up with her peers for the rest of her life, no doubt. But I'd never seen a softer side on Dash before. It actually made me feel uncomfortable, like what I was watching was way private and meant only for them, and I was an intruder, albeit a distant one. As much as the filly -- Rainbow's kid sister? -- tried and failed to get some hang time, Dash never seemed to get impatient or yell at her.

"Keep it up, kid," I whispered, feeling myself get caught up in a textbook Cutiemark moment, "you'll go far."

Then some damnfool idiot bucked my cloud.

"Whoa, s-sorry, I didn't see you there!"

I spun midair and retrieved my dress, then looked over to my antagonist, a grey and blue stallion with a ridiculous mohawk. He opened his mouth to say something, then his eyes got wide. I cringed, waiting for it.

"Hey... aren't you Spitfire?"

I put on my best horseapple-eating grin and threw my right foreleg up into my face. "That I am! Oh wow, would you look at the time? Two hairs past a fetlock, haha! Gotta jet!"

I tossed the dress up and threw it on while speeding off toward Filthy Rich's house.

It was a nice restaurant. Not a nice-for-Ponyville restaurant, but a genuinely nice one. Nice décor, perfect mood lighting, decent menu selections. They even had a house band, a trio of violin, lyre of all things, and flute, played by a white unicorn I swear looked familiar. All the right touches, in place as they should be and not just pretending to high culture. Rarity had the same deal going for her, when she wasn't being obnoxious and clingy. Maybe I'd had Ponyville wrong for a while.

Filthy "Just Call Me Rich" Rich had of course suggested the place, and I got the feeling that it was out of a genuine enjoyment of the spot, not just because he had the bits to go there regularly.

"It's the music," he said languidly. "They always have the best players here."

I'd quickly come to realize that he spoke slowly because he was always carefully choosing his words; definitely not the sort of pony I'd want to get into a heated debate with. I suspected a certain feistiness that had not so much dulled with age but been reigned in with experience. Inside, Filthy Rich was still a fighter, but he had enough years under his belt to know when to let it show. For the same reason, he never seemed to be in a rush to speak. I felt like a foal in comparison, and it had nothing to do with him being the same age as my dad.

Who I shouldn't be thinking about during a date.

Of course, in trying to take my mind off him, the only thing I could think about was Rich's wife and Rarity telling me not to ask about her. I mean, I was participating in the conversation and all, but it was just inevitable that every now and then, the mind would wander.

It started eating at me. What happened to her? I could only assume she died, but under what circumstances? I mean, I guess losing your wife is gonna be pretty traumatic no matter what, but so traumatic that everypony in town knows not to bring it up? There were only so many explanations for why something is gonna gain that kind of status.

Over salad, we talked about his business.

Soup was about my shows.

The entrée was eaten in between snippets of politics and weather management.

I couldn't wait any longer than dessert. I made sure not to overdo the wine just so I didn't go total featherbrain on him.

"So," I said resolutely, "we've talked a lot about ourselves tonight, but not really about... ourselves. Y'know?"

"You're going to ask about my wife, aren't you?"

I stiffened just a bit. He said it calmly, without missing a beat, like he was accepting a grim fate or something. Rarity's warning flashed through my head, but I'd already made my decision. Clear skies for steady flight.

I nodded. "I was warned not to, but that just got me curious, y'know? I'll apologize if it's--"

"No need, Miss Spitfire," he said, raising a hoof. He chuckled, eyes on his dessert. "Was it such a big to-do that it's become town legend?"

What the hay was that supposed to mean?

He sighed. "Well, the short story is she left me, about, ohh... Let's see, Diamond Tiara was four, so that'd be almost five years ago now." He shook his head and chuckled again, not that I had any idea what there was to chuckle about. "Don't worry, Miss Spitfire, I've since gotten over it. There's no chance of hurting my feelings for having brought it up."

With a loud breath, he leaned back in his chair. "If I can trouble you with the long story, well...

"I married a Canterlot unicorn who I met at a business convention one year. I loved her because she was beautiful; she loved me because I was rich." He rubbed the corner of his eye. "I've always had a bit of a weakness, a blind spot if you will, when it comes to the fairer sex.

"When I brought her back to Ponyville, well, she didn't take too kindly to our surroundings. She wasn't a noblepony, but she'd still grown up in the lap of Canterlot luxury and decadence. You know what I mean, right?"

I did.

"I think..." His brows knitted together. "I think we only had Diamond because she was hoping for another pony like her to give her something to look forward to in her life. She got the daughter she wanted, but she was..." He swallowed and looked at me. "I'm sorry to say, she was disappointed Diamond Tiara wasn't a unicorn."

I couldn't imagine that. Then again, I'd grown up among pegasi; race had never really been an issue in my family, and likely never would be.

"After a while, she just got sick of not living the glamorous life she'd always wanted," he continued. "She filed for divorce, but I got lucky." He laughed. "The courts sided with me on account of her not wanting to take care of Diamond. She got a modest alimony and I didn't have to sell my house." He laughed again; it sounded bitter, like coffee.

"So I've always doted on my daughter, on account of her mother never really cared for her." He smiled at me. It made him look like he'd smiled enough to be tired of it. "I know it's not the best way to parent. She's mean to her classmates because she inherited her mother's disposition and she's spoiled because I allow her to be." He closed his eyes. "But I can't help it. I'd do absolutely anything for Diamond Tiara, and she knows it."

I gave him a lopsided grin. "I dunno. You sure laid down the law this morning."

He shook his head. "Most likely, she'll talk me out of it in a day or two." He sighed and slouched in his chair. "She always takes advantage of that blind spot of mine."

He sat like that, looking drained and used, for a good minute before I put my hoof on his. He opened his eyes, and I smiled at him.

"Y'know, I would have given anything to have a stallion like you as my dad," I said with a wry laugh. "All I ever wanted was to be his little princess, but instead I got to be Private Spitfire in dad's personal army." I grunted. "And nothing I did was ever good enough for him. Of course, if I'd been spoiled any, it would have gone straight to my head and I'd've been a worse little horseapple than I was."

He laughed softly at that.

"The minute I was old enough to fly away from home, that's exactly what I did. I worked my flank off to be the best flier I could be so the Wonderbolts would take me in, and..." I stopped, feeling weirdly exposed all of a sudden. "There might be another reason why your ex wanted to have a foal, y'know."

He leaned forward. "What's that?"

"Low birthrates and all." I waved a hoof at the far wall. "Any married couple is expected to have at least one kid. So your wife probably felt a sense of duty on top of everything else.

"Me?" I jabbed myself in the chest. "I never wanted that. Dad would have loved nothing more than to see me settle down and give him grandfoals, and I sure as sugar wasn't about to saddle myself with some rowdy rugrats just to make him happy. Joining the Wonderbolts was one way of making sure I wouldn't have to deal with that, at least not until I retired. Being preggers ain't exactly the best way to stay in top flying condition, you know what I mean?"

We shared a laugh. I wasn't quite done, though.

"Can I make a confession?"

"It seems to be the theme of this evening," he said, smiling.

"I hate foals."

He laughed at that.

"No, seriously, I do. I don't ever want my own, and I don't wanna deal with other ponies' either."

"But surely you've got foals for fans, right?"

I nodded. "Yeah, but that's different. With a fan, you say hi, you ask their name, you give 'em an autograph or a photo op, you listen to their dreams and give 'em a few words of encouragement. And then. They. Leave."

His laughter grew warmer.

I jammed one hoof into the other. "When it comes right down to it, more often than not, the adult fans act like foals more than the actual foals do."

"I can believe that, yes indeed." He nodded slowly, still smiling. "So you were a bit peeved at showing up at a filly's birthday party for more than one reason, I'll wager."

"Absolutely." I tapped the table with my hoof. "Now, I dunno about you, but I've got a pretty new tango dress on and I ain't tangoed in it yet. So how's about you and me cut a rug, sunshine?"

He raised an eyebrow. "Dancing? I don't know, Spitfire, these desserts look awfully wonderful."

I snorted. "We've been spending more time bellyaching than eating tonight. They'll be fine." I stood and offered my hoof to him. "C'mon. I'll bet we can get those three to play something a little livelier."

We did. The unicorn on flute turned out to be my kind of mare, overjoyed at the idea of playing something other than soothing mood music. Rich and I weren't the only ones to partake of the opportunity, but I dare say we were the coolest couple on the dancefloor.

Despite getting off to a creaky start, Rich proved himself to be a pretty capable dancer. I won't say I'm any slouch myself, but I definitely learned at least something from him. It was fun, though, just letting myself relax and become movement. That's what flying is like when I'm just trying to have fun, and I've always thought of dancing as flying on four hooves. We went three rounds until Rich claimed age necessitated he take a break. This beauty cajoled him into one more dance.

The rest of the evening passed well. No more politics, no more bellyaching, just two new friends having a good time and sharing a night together. By the time we ended up back at his place, the moon was headed for the horizon.

"Did you have a good time?" I asked.

"Absolutely, my dear," he said, "and your apology is one hundred and ten percent accepted!"

I had to laugh; I'd had so much fun, I'd almost forgotten about the reason why we did this in the first place.

"You know," he said, "I might have to start doing this more often. It's been a while since I had a mare in my life, and I think I proved to myself tonight that I'm not too old for dating."

"You're only as old as you feel, Rich," I quipped. Then I wrapped my arms around his neck and gave him a soft peck on the lips. "Not to mention you're a complete gentlestallion and you'd knock some lucky lady off her hooves."

He turned bright red and cleared his throat several times. I laughed and grinned at him.

"C'mon, you deserved that! Just like you deserve to treat yourself now and again. If your daughter's mom doesn't wanna be a mom, then you should think about giving her a better one."

"One step at a time, Miss Spitfire," he said, clearing his throat one more time and adjusting his tie. "Well, ah, I suppose I should bid you a good night and all..."

"One more thing, if you don't mind, Rich." I put a hoof on his shoulder, as he was turning toward the door already. "I'm gonna be staying in town overnight. I've got a room at the inn lined up, don't worry. But I have a little plan I'd like to try out tomorrow morning. Would you care to join me for breakfast so I can get your input?"

He blinked a few times, obviously considering what I said. "What sort of plan?"

I couldn't help smiling. "Just a little something-something to teach your daughter a lesson she won't likely forget."

I couldn't be sure he'd be up for that kind of thing. After all, he was the doting father. But if the little rugrat who started all of this didn't get some kind of comeuppance, I couldn't be sure I'd be able to live with myself.

"Well, it's a school day, but..." He smiled. "I'll see what you've got planned."

Breakfast was decent, hearty rural fare, and he insisted on paying for his half, which I didn't mind at all. More importantly, I got a little more background on the whole birthday fiasco. Putting two and two together, I figured out just who it was I'd seen Rainbow Dash training the other day. It was time I gave my second-biggest fan in Ponyville a visit.

Not to mention somepony had finally gotten wind that I was in town and the press were starting to creep up into my space. I'd have to make this quick.

Airborne, I followed Filthy Rich and Diamond Tiara to school. I had to keep a holding pattern for about ten minutes, during which time just about all the students and their parents had noticed me. If any had recognized me, I couldn't tell, but I was still a spectacle nevertheless.

At last, I saw what I was looking for: an orange earth pony with purple mane leading a filly who resembled her, save for the addition of wings. I had to wonder if the filly was maybe Rainbow's niece or something; that mare was definitely not much older than me.

I waited until mom and daughter said goodbye. Then I dove.

Wonderbolts aren't supposed to use the smoke contrail while out of uniform, but what are they gonna do, fire their captain? I came screaming in for a three-point landing right next to the filly, who just about spit her bit. Priceless.

"Hey there, kiddo," I said, "your name Scootaloo?"

Her eyes got huge. Like, not kidding, as big as her entire head. All the other fillies and colts were gathering in a ring around us while her legs began to shake.

"Spuhh, Sp-Spuh, Spuh--"

"Spiiiiit..."

"F-Fah-Fah-Faaah-haaah--"

"Fiiiire. Spitfire. That's me!" I gave her one of those crowd-pleasing grins.

"...Knows my name?" She finished with a squeak.

I rolled my eyes. "I might've had a little help." I punched her lightly in the shoulder. "Hey, I know you got important school stuff to do today, but are ya interested in getting a little flying lesson from the Captain of the Wonderbolts?"

I projected my title so all the foals gathered around would get what was going on. The fans had already identified themselves by their animated chatter, and at this point, the others got excited too. Well, all except a certain pink filly in a tiara. I kept my eye on her.

"This is a once in a lifetime offer, kid," I continued. "Better strike while the pegasus is hot!"

She all but vibrated into the air. "Yes!"

"Well, c'mon, what're we waiting for then?"

I scooped her up onto my back, and just like that, we were airborne. At first, I tried to treat it like an actual lesson, describing my techniques as I rolled and spun. But she was just having so much fun, it didn't seem worth it to waste my breath. So instead we had a good time looping and weaving, her hanging on for dear life and gleefully screaming her head off the entire time.

"You can't fly yet?" I had the nerve to ask at one point.

"No, but I'm trying! My wings are too small still; Rainbow Dash says I'm just a late bloomer."

Gosh, that was adorable.

"You know, I was a late bloomer too."

"What, you? No way!"

"Yeah way!" I flipped over, laughing. "Last in my class to get a cutie mark. My dad threatened to kick me off the cloud if I didn't start flying by the time I was ten! He almost did it, too!"

I flipped back over and she gasped. "What did you do?"

A smile spread over my face and I took a deep breath. "I became the best flyer in Equestria!"

The Buccaneer Blaze isn't nearly as impressive as it used to be. We've added tricks to our repertoire that are way flashier, louder, you name it. Still, it's a tradition for a reason, and it's pretty darn tricky to pull off. Just trust me when I say, if you're along for the ride on one, the effect is a lot greater.

"Or at least I was," I continued, "until a certain rainbow-haired pegasus showed me up!"

Scootaloo got real quiet then, and I noticed we weren't alone in the air. Sure enough, speak of Discord and he'll appear, there was that rainbow showup, flying right beside me and looking fit to burst.

"Spitfire?" she squeaked. "I heard you were in Ponyville, but I couldn't believe it! What are you doing here?" She did a double-take. "And why are you flying with Scootaloo?"

I laughed. "I noticed you two flight training yesterday and thought I'd give her a few pointers. Y'know, as a supplement to your excellent regimen."

There was a split second where Rainbow Dash looks like she might actually be insulted. Then her mouth curls up and her hooves fly up to her face and she lets out that horribly annoying fan squeal that is only cute coming from her.

"Oh my gosh, Scoot, you're getting a flying lesson from Spitfire!"

Scootaloo imitated the squeal. Okay, that's two ponies it's cute from.

"Oh my gosh, Rainbow Dash, I know!"

Then they did it together and it stopped being cute. I cut them off.

"Just make sure you don't let Diamond Tiara forget about this, Scootaloo, okay?"

"Huh? Why would--"

"Hang on!"

I turned groundwards and came in for a long, stylish landing. All the schoolfoals clapped and cheered and a whole passel of fillies rushed over to congratulate Scootaloo. Rainbow Dash started babbling at me, but I scanned the crowd for two ponies in particular. I found them as a mare who sounded like she was most likely the one in charge declared the "excitement" to be "over now" and started ushering foals inside the schoolhouse to a chorus of groans.

Rich stood next to his daughter, encouraging her to follow her teacher. I didn't have any time to waste: I picked up and zipped over to him. Before he could say anything, I grabbed his tie, planted my lips on his, and gave him a long, wet one. At least one pony whistled.

When I was done, I turned around and smacked him with my tail. The foals started snorting, then giggling, and then the whole class started laughing.

"Thanks for a good time last night," I said loudly. I laughed as jaws dropped and gave Rainbow Dash a wink. Then I took to the air ahead of the cloud of ponies with paparazzi written all over it that was coming my way.

As I left the Ponyville schoolyard, I could hear two ponies behind me.

One was a spoiled little filly withering under the laughter of her classmates, crying, "Daaaaaddyyyyy!"

The other was a certain multicolored pegasus, shouting, "What in the hay was that?"

I laughed and flew off. After all, I had a Princess's birthday to attend.

Author's Note

My apologies to the hardcore SpitRich shipper out there. It was never meant to be. :(

So this is part of a little project created by a bunch of authors who met at Bronycon this year. The idea was simple: take a pairing generated by random number and ship them with pony 1 as the POV character. Then the next writer gets pony 2 as their POV and a new partner for them. Repeat ad infinitum. The stories aren't related otherwise. I'll post a journal about them just as soon as I can so you can read the others!

You know, I think this is the first story I've actually posted (though not the first I've written) to use the "new"-style title format. You'll be seeing that a lot more often, though I sort of switch between the two as I feel befits whatever story I'm working on.

Thanks to Cold in Gardez and Golden Vision for feedback.