A Couple of Showponies

Chapters

Hey... I Know You!
Is Trixie Destined to be the Greatest Equine Who Has Ever Lived?
It's About Pushing Ourselves in The Right Direction
Everypony Deserves a Second Chance—Even a Third Chance!

Hey... I Know You!

“Great show, guys!” Spitfire yelled above the cheers of a still-riled audience; the Wonderbolts fans were always generous with their applause, but there had never been this much hoof-stomping and frenzied cheers before. “Keep performing like that and I'll knock an hour off of Saturday practice. Now shower up!” The fiery-maned pegasus turned to her co-captain, Soarin, and thumped his shoulder with her hoof. “Especially you. I bet I could smell you all the way from Canterlot!”

The pale blue stallion raised his foreleg, sniffed, and cringed, turning slightly green. “R-Right away, Spits... Ugh.” He saluted awkwardly and dashed off toward the stallion locker room, leaving Spitfire alone in the back stage of the stadium. The cheers of the crowd were dying down as the devoted fans were slowly heading home, but the yellow mare still felt the accomplished tingle of a job well done. Perhaps she'd been pushing the team a little too hard, but if it paid off it was well worth the extra effort. And it had paid off- even the newest, least polished tricks had been pulled off nearly flawlessly. And the small slip up from the newest full time member of the team, Lightning Streak, had gone unnoticed by most if not all of the show's attendees. Breathing a sigh of relief, Spitfire decided to skip the shower and reward herself with a warm bubble bath back at her hotel room.

Waiting a couple moments after the stadium fell silent to make sure no crazed fans were lingering (as she had learned to do every time from a couple bad experiences), the Wonderbolts captain exited the large stadium into a crisp Manehattan night. Luna's sky was extravagantly lit tonight, and the whole city seemed to be coated in silver. Shivering slightly, Spitfire made a beeline for the hotel, barely visible on the horizon. As fiery as she was, the mare was not a big fan of cold weather, and the warm orange glow from the windows of the buildings she passed made her bones ache with a longing for her warm bed back in Cloudsdale. But, she thought with a small smile, soon the winter tours will be over for the holidays and I'll be back home with my family... and my bed!

As she slowly descended in front of the hotel, she heard her name being called out frantically. Normally she'd avoid a confrontation this late at night in the middle of Manehattan, but the voice sounded oddly familiar. I'm sure I don't know anyone who lives here... Against her better judgment, Spitfire stopped and turned in the direction of the voice, ready to drop-kick an attacker back into the reign of Nightmare Moon.

“Spitfire?! It is you!” An azure-coated unicorn was enthusiastically trotting in her direction, tugging a small wagon behind her (with some strain, Spitfire noted).

“Er... Yep. It's me.” The golden mare reached into her saddlebag and pulled out a pen. “What can I do for you? Autograph?” She waved the pen slightly, fully prepared to jab it into this strange mare if she needed to.

The unicorn paused, looking terribly offended. “What? You don't remember-” she stood on her hind legs and waved her forelegs- “the Great and Powerful... whoa!” The blue mare lost her balance and plummeted backwards, knocking her head on the wagon still attached to her. Wincing, Spitfire trotted over and extended her hoof to this strange pony. “Ouch. Stupid wagon. Trixie will end you! You know not who you have wronged!” The mare took Spitfire's hoof and began to pull herself up. “The Great and Powerful Trixie will-”

Spitfire gasped and accidentally released Trixie's hoof, sending her back down to the grimy street. “Oops!” She grabbed the now dingy unicorn and helped her up. “I'm sorry, I just... You can't be that Trixie! The one from the Young Performer's camp back about... what, ten years ago?”

Looking appalled at the state of her coat, Trixie grunted. “The very same. Leave it to a pony as popular as you to forget her very best friend... for life.” Pouting for a moment, the mare shrugged and ran a hoof through her mane. “No matter! Surely you have more important things on your plate than remembering foalhood friends. It's not as though Trixie sent you countless letters or anything.” She turned back to her wagon, unhooking herself from it and giving it a stubborn kick.

Feeling her cheeks burn, Spitfire chuckled nervously and rubbed the back of her neck. “Heh... Yeah. I've had so much mail the past few years that I've just given up on reading most of it... Sorry.” The Wonderbolt shivered as the wind picked up, cutting through the thin cloth of her uniform. “You've got to come up to my room with me! There's so much catching up to do.” Grabbing her old friend's hoof, she tugged her towards the door. “Come on, I'll make sure someone takes care of your wagon for you.”

“If you insist,” Trixie replied, not resisting or letting go of Spitfire's hoof as they scrambled inside.

Spitfire hurried to the elevator, bouncing in place as she waited for it to reach the lobby. “C'mon, c'mon!” She mumbled, staring at the ticker above the doors as another pony, a mint-green unicorn, stopped beside the pair and snorted. Spitfire turned to see the mare shooting Trixie, who had her head low as she stared at the floor, a dirty look before grumbling “I'll get the next elevator,” and promptly turning on her heels and stomping off.

Before she could question her friend, a friendly “ding!” sounded and the elevator's doors opened, beckoning in the two mares. Trixie's head still hung low, and Spitfire gently nudged the blue mare. “You okay?”

Trixie yanked away from her and nodded. “Trixie is fine, thanks. Would you mind if Trixie jumped through your shower?”

“Er...” Spitfire glanced at the dirty spots on Trixie's fur from the multiple encounters with Manehattan's less than pristine streets. “Of course you can.” The friendly “ding!” sounded again, and the two stepped off on the 5th floor. Leading the way down the hall, the fiery pegasus hummed happily to herself. “Ah!” she exclaimed, fumbling about her saddlebag for a moment before yanking out a key card and sliding it quickly through the keypad in front of a large red door. “Room 517. Make yourself at home!”

While she waited from Trixie to finish showering, Spitfire stripped out of her oppressive (and stinky!) uniform and flung it on the floor. “Ahhh...” The mare plopped down on the couch, staring up at the ceiling as she thought back to the first time she'd met Trixie, who was one of her oldest friends...

*****

“Well, well, well. If it isn't the lame and cowardly Trixie!”

Spitfire rolled her eyes as the voice rang out through the playground, the surrounding foals abandoning their games of hoofball and hide-and-seek to investigate the small mob forming near the swings. “You're not helping!” the fiery yellow pegasus called out to Soarin, who was generally anything but helpful when it came to mediating peacefully, as he zipped over to the ever-growing crowd, turning his head and sticking out his tongue at her as he flew. A smirk crept across Spitfire's face as he turned back too late to notice the monkey bars directly in front of him. The pained “oomf” he managed to squeak out as he collided was enough to quell her annoyance momentarily. Still, she felt it was her duty to keep these rowdy brats under control- even if she was fresh out of the rowdy brat stage herself-, and so she stomped forward, parting the sea of young ponies to get a better look at the scene before her.

A small blue and green unicorn filly was standing over an even smaller blue unicorn whose eyes were wide with panic despite the look of pride she was struggling to keep on her face. This wasn't the first time she'd seen the larger filly picking on somepony else, but Spitfire was surprised to see the victim was... what was her name? Trixie! Yes, the small azure unicorn could be annoying at times, but she mostly kept to herself, standing around brushing her mane or playing with her teddy bear. It didn't seem completely out of the question that Trixie had said the wrong thing or pushed the bully's buttons, but regardless of the circumstances, it was her job to put an end to this.

Stepping forward and nudging the larger filly away from Trixie, Spitfire barked “Name?”

“None of your beeswax, Flame-Brain.” The obnoxious foal struggled to get around the older and larger mare, but to no avail. “This doesn't concern you. Go play with somepony your own age.”

Spitfire kept a straight face despite the powerful urge to knock the filly straight into Cloudsdale. “It is my business, I'm the oldest!” With a small rush of pride, the young pegasus stood a bit taller as she continued. “And besides, even if I wasn't the oldest, it's my responsibility as a decent pony to help someone in need.”

“Bleh bleh bleh responsible! Pffft!” The aqua-maned filly prodded Spitfire's chest with a hoof. “You pegasi are all the same: high and mighty until real danger strikes. That's when you can count on unicorns to stick around!”

“A bully and a racist?” Trixie snorted and admired her hoof, brushing a bit of dirt from her mane. “Trixie attracts the worst kinds of ponies, wouldn't you agree...?” she trailed off, motioning her hoof at Spitfire.

With a small smile which probably ended up looking more like a grimace, Spitfire nodded. “Agreed,” she replied before turning back to the offender. “But regardless of your personal beliefs, you need to be respectful or at least pleasant to other ponies.”

“You can't tell me what to do, you're not my mom!” The small filly puffed herself up, her tiny horn emitting a bit of magic.

“Yes, and Trixie is sure Spitfire's very grateful for that.” Trixie smirked and stood next to the fiery mare, looking up at her with a bit of awe in her large purple eyes.

The unicorn shot another glare at the pair before turning away and kicking a cloud of dirt at them. “Whatever,” she grumbled as Spitfire coughed. “Both of you combined aren't worth even a minute of my time.” With that, she trotted off, head held high, until she disappeared from view.

Shaking her head, Spitfire looked down at the unicorn by her side, her eyes still glued to the pegasus' face. “Erm...” Rubbing the back of her neck, Spitfire extended a hoof to the runt. “I guess you already know my name, but it's nice to meet you face to face. Where'd you hear about me anyway?”

Trixie took Spitfire's hoof and shook it gently. “And you must know my name now. Or what that foal Seafoam-” she shot a glance in the direction the bully had headed, “has chosen to call me.” She released the pegasus' hoof suddenly, jumping into a dramatic pose, her chest puffed up as she grinned. “But do not be fooled, fair maiden, for I am the Great and Powerful Trixie!” She looked up at Spitfire expectantly. “But who hasn't heard of you, that is the better question! Trixie is sure everypony here knows about the daughter of a Wonderbolt!”

“Oh.” Spitfire blushed slightly, lowering her head as a few foals glanced over at Trixie's overly-enthusiastic outburst. “Of course.” She stood and spread her wings, lifting a foot or so off the ground. Smiling down at the younger filly, she had to admit to herself that Trixie's exuberant attitude was somewhat charming. “So what was that little brat- I mean Seafoam picking on you about anyway?”

All at once, the enthusiasm faded from Trixie's eyes. She spat at the ground, her ears flat back against her head. “Some of the other ponies here doubt Trixie's awesome power. But they're foals for doing so!” The young filly kicked at the ground with a vengeance, a small tuft of grass flying through the air. A frown settled upon her face as she looked up at Spitfire. “Right? They're foals, right?”

“Well duh!” Landing softly next to Trixie, Spitfire grinned and laid her wing on the smaller pony's shoulders. “'You don't get accepted into the Young Performer's Training Camp if you're not the best of the best!' That's what my dad always told me.” She lightly nudged Trixie's side. “So what are you here to practice? What makes you so great and powerful?”

The filly's eyes filled with excitement once more. “Trixie is going to be a magician! The most powerful magician in all of Equestria!” Once more, several nearby foals paused to stare at the blue unicorn as she posed, standing on her hind legs and flailing her top half with a big smile. “And Trixie- I bet you're here to become a Wonderbolt, huh?”

“Maybe,” Spitfire replied, her eyes on the clouds as a small frown formed on her face.

Not noticing her companion's sudden change in attitude, Trixie smiled and hugged Spitfire's front legs tight. “Thank you for standing up for me. Trixie is- I am grateful to have found a friend who appreciates how great and powerful I am.”

Spitfire smiled down at the younger filly. “Someday they'll feel silly for doubting you. Now why don't you show me some of your tricks?”

Trixie's eyes lit up, and she nodded furiously. “Sure!” she squeaked. “Let me go get my teddy- I mean, let Trixie show you how to vanquish an Ursa Major!” Spitfire chuckled as she watched the little unicorn dash off, nearly tripping over her own hooves with excitement.

*****

Spitfire was suddenly shaken from the memory by the creaking of the bathroom door as Trixie glanced out into the living room. Spotting the pegasus stretched out on the couch, the blue mare trotted out of the room, a cloud of steam following her. Spitfire smiled at her friend, then realized the mare was staring directly at her rump. Blushing and covering herself with her fiery tail, Spitfire cleared her throat loudly. Trixie's eyes snapped up to Spitfire's, the situation dawning on her. “Oh!” she yelped, blushing just as brightly as the Wonderbolt. “N-No! Oh, it's not as it seems. Trixie was trying to see your cutie mark... I didn't remember what it looked like.” The unicorn groaned, covering her face with her hooves. “Trixie always manages to make a foal of herself these days!”

“Oh.” Sitting up to allow Trixie room on the couch, the yellow pegasus chuckled. “It's okay. And honestly, who doesn't want a piece of this?” When Trixie buried her face farther into her hooves, Spitfire squirmed uncomfortably. “Er, joking of course.” Still no response. “Um... Tell you what, I'll go make us some hot chocolate and you can catch me up on what you've been doing this past decade, huh?”

Taking the silence that greeted her as an agreement, Spitfire scrambled off the couch and padded into the adjoining kitchen. As she stood on her hind legs to grab the packets of cocoa from the shelf above the stove, she heard the door of the hotel opening. “What... Trixie?” Spitfire dropped down to all fours and trotted back toward the living room. “Where are you...” She trailed off as she noticed tears on her friend's face. “What's wrong?”

Trixie paused and sighed. “Trixie has not been as lucky as you. Trixie- I was a foal for thinking you'd want to be friends with a loser like me. Trust me, you don't want to hear about my life. You wouldn't want to be my friend if you did.”

Confused, Spitfire stepped toward her friend. “What? No, it can't be that bad. You're the Great and Powerful Trixie, after all!”

Wincing, Trixie shook her head. “Sorry for wasting your time, Spitfire.” The mare dashed out into the hallway, nearly colliding with another guest. “Watch where you're going!” Trixie nearly yelled as she frantically raced to the elevator, slamming her hoof into the down arrow.

“Trixie...” Spitfire started to follow her friend, but the unicorn shook her head.

As the elevator arrived, Trixie turned back to Spitfire, her cheeks glistening with tears. “Please leave Trixie be.” She stepped inside and the doors clicked shut, leaving Spitfire alone in the hallway with the guest who had narrowly avoided being knocked over. He snorted, turning away and ambling down the hall. Frozen in place, Spitfire watched the elevator's ticker count down to the lobby floor (4, 3, 2, 1...) before returning to her room, the tingly happiness from the night's show completely gone and replaced with something she could not quite understand. For a moment, she thought about just going to bed, but suddenly she had a different plan.

Throwing open her window, the pegasus zipped outside into the frosty air once more, scanning the street below for her friend. “C'mon...” Just as she was about to return to the safety of her warm room, a flash of blue caught her eye, and she dived down to the street. Easing the dive at the last moment, she landed directly in front of a still wet-cheeked Trixie and muttered “Hey,” quietly with a half smile. “Please don't go yet.”

Trixie looked away, kicking at the pavement. “Trixie left her wagon. She would have had to come back eventually.”

“Yeah, but I was worried you'd leave and I'd never find you again.” Spitfire sighed and looked down at the ground. “Look, you don't have to come back right now, and you don't have to tell me what you've been up to since we last met, but I want you to promise me that you'll meet me here tomorrow afternoon. We can go get lunch or something. My treat. Please, just... don't go like that.” Trixie looked unconvinced. “I know we haven't even seen each other since we were like... what, eighteen and sixteen? But I didn't mean for things to turn out that way. I just got so caught up with training and my family was always traveling... I won't make excuses anymore. I'd really like to better friends again. I want to make it up to you. And trust me when I say that I don't think that you're a loser, and nothing that you could have done will change that.”

“..f-fine.” Trixie trotted past Spitfire, flicking her muzzle with her pale blue tail. “Meet me in front of the hotel at 5pm. If you're late, Trixie will not hang about! Now farewell.” With a puff of smoke, the unicorn dashed off into the night, leaving Spitfire in a coughing fit.

“Trixie!” Spitfire croaked between coughs. “Your wagon!”

Slowly emerging from the shadows, Trixie grinned sheepishly. “Leave it to you to ruin Trixie's grand escape.” She cleared her throat and dashed down the road back toward the hotel parking lot, looking over her shoulder at the yellow pegasus. “5pm. Be there!”

“Okay!” Spitfire called out. Standing still for a moment, she repeated more quietly, “Okay.”

***

Luna's brilliant silver night was beginning to fade into Celestia's colorful morning as Spitfire finally fell asleep, dreaming a dream she would not remember in the morning, filled with fireworks and lights and a beautiful magician.

Is Trixie Destined to be the Greatest Equine Who Has Ever Lived?

Time for Spitfire always seemed to fly faster than she ever could, especially when she was spending it doing what she loved with the ponies she cared for most. And so she'd set off to practice that Saturday morning with high hopes, despite her half-asleep brain, thanks to the measly two hours of sleep she'd managed to get before some numbskull blasting something you'd hear at a DJ PON-3 concert at 5am woke her up. But shortly after arriving at the Manehattan stadium, she concluded that time could not have been going any slower. She knew it wasn't her lack of sleep that was killing her usual high energy- the Wonderbolt had often practiced and even performed on much less. Something else was distracting her, something blue with deep purple eyes and-

Spitfire collided face-first into Misty's side, sending the two of them plummeting down a few feet before they managed to right themselves, flapping awkwardly as the rest of the team chuckled. “Hm...” Glancing around for eavesdroppers, Misty leaned in toward Spitfire and muttered. “I hope you don't mind me saying so, Captain, but you haven't been doing so hot today- no pun intended. Something wrong?”

“Sorry,” the fiery pegasus replied, looking off to the side. “Nothing's wrong, I'm just thinking about a meeting I have later today.”

“Oh.” Letting out a sigh of relief, the cyan-maned Wonderbolt smiled. “Possible sponsor?”

Spitfire shook her head. “Not business related.”

Misty raised an eyebrow. “Ooo. I see.” Gently nudging the older pegasus with her elbow, Misty lowered her voice again. “Found a special somepony?”

Rolling her eyes, Spitfire nudged her friend back. “Nothing like that. She's just an old friend of mine from my days at the Young Performer's Camp.” Oddly enough, she found her cheeks burning at the question. Hoping Misty hadn't noticed- though the sly look on her face said otherwise- she continued, “I kept in touch with her for some time, but after I got accepted into the Academy...” She trailed off with a shrug. “You know how demanding it is.”

“I see.” After a quick stretch, the pale pegasus gave Spitfire one more playful nudge. “Well, I hope your completely platonic meeting goes exactly how you want it to. Even if you won't admit it's how you want it to go!” Before Spitfire could reply, Misty was off, looping through the air with that sly smile still plastered on her face.

No more accidents occurred, but Spitfire wondered how; after the short conversation with Misty, Spitfire felt that she could not keep her mind off of her feisty unicorn friend. Oh, of course I can't, she convinced herself. She was my best friend and I haven't seen her in ten years. Anypony would be distracted by something like that! Of course she had never thought of Trixie as anything more than a close friend... right? Truthfully the crushes of her teen years were long forgotten by now, but she was certain that the younger mare- as beautiful and full of life as she had been- had never caught her eye in a romantic way. Spitfire didn't usually fall for unicorns; they demanded cleanliness and a sophisticated air that a Wonderbolt like her- dirty, sweaty, unkempt- could never pull off. And besides, why ruin such a great friendship? Well, it had been great. Perhaps that was the cause of her nervousness. What if the friendship had run its course? She was certainly not the pony she had been at eighteen, and Trixie claimed things had not gone swimmingly for her... Shaking her head, the golden pegasus sighed and resumed her exercises. Whatever the circumstances, their friendship was worth a second chance.

***

Deciding the team deserved a small treat- and because if she flew in circles mindlessly any longer, she might explode-, Spitfire ended practice an hour early. Still, it was only 3:45pm, and Manehattan wasn't her kind of town to go exploring in, so she headed back to her hotel room to kill some time. As she threw her bag on the couch, she thought of joining it for a nap, but quickly reconsidered. A heavy sleeper, she easily imagine sleeping right on through to Sunday morning if she closed her eyes for even a minute. Her hotel room didn't offer a lot of exciting options though, and she soon found herself wandering into the bathroom for what she planned to be a quick shower. But the warm water was soothing, and it couldn't hurt to be in tip-top condition for her date- er, her dinner with Trixie. And so the next thirty minutes were spent lather-rinse-repeating until the Wonderbolt's coat smelled and looked cleaner than it had in the past six months.

Finally stepping out of the enticing mist, Spitfire glanced at the clock on the wall. “Still half an hour...” she mumbled to herself. Quickly running a brush through her mane (Has Trixie ever seen it brushed? she wondered), the mare decided to wait downstairs in case her friend arrived early. A bad idea, she quickly discovered, as every time even the smallest flash of blue passed by the lobby's double doors, her heart would jump into her throat. I'm being silly. Trixie will be here any minute now! But the clock read 5:09pm and there was no sign of the azure unicorn anywhere. Just a little late, she assured herself, for once thankful for a small group of Wonderbolts fans who pestered her with questions and autograph requests for a while. After they'd left for their rooms, she glanced at the clock hesitantly...

5:43pm. Spitfire's stomach clenched and she sighed, heaving herself up and heading for the elevator. She kept hoping to hear Trixie's voice ringing out “Sorry I'm late!” as she slowly trotted toward the lift, but there was nothing but the din of the lobby and the ever friendly “ding!” as the elevator arrived.

Disappointed and left with nothing to do, the showmare resigned herself to her hotel bed, flopping down and shimmying under the covers. Even though she was exhausted in every way possible, Spitfire could not even begin to fall asleep. She wanted to be angry at her friend for ditching her, but all she felt was guilt. “I should have offered to help her. I should have let her stay here last night. I should have known she wouldn't come back.” Tears stung her eyes. “Should have, should have, should have.”

After what felt like hours, there came a frantic knocking on the hotel room door. Spitfire bolted up, eager to race to the door and throw it open, but she restrained herself. “No, if she wants to stand me up, then I won't be welcoming her with open hooves!” she muttered to herself, wiping at her eyes and putting on her coldest expression. She stomped toward the door, scowling as she slowly creaked it open...

The instant she saw the blue unicorn, her resolve melted into a big goofy smile. She didn't know why; she had set out angry and she wanted to be angry, but something about seeing her old friend brought an indestructible grin to her face. “You're late,” she nearly purred.

“Tonight I am the Great and Apologetic Trixie,” the unicorn mumbled with a look of shame. “Trixie ran into some... complications... But as you said, no more excuses! Trixie is incredibly sorry, Spitfire. Trixie knows she has let you down yet again.”

“Well, I was pretty disappointed...” The pegasus felt that holding onto her negative emotions would not benefit either party, so she shrugged and hold Trixie's hoof with her own. “But you're here now, and that's all that I care about.” Gently guiding the mare inside and clicking the door shut behind her, Spitfire led the way to the living room. “What sort of complications arose? If you don't mind my asking.” She plopped down gracelessly onto the middle cushion of the couch, earning a small smile from Trixie.

“It's a rather long story, Spitfire,” Trixie grumbled, tugging lightly on the curl of her mane.

Spitfire gestured at the clock on the wall. “I've got so much time, it's not even funny.”

Snorting, Trixie stared at the pegasus with a small smirk. “Odd that such a popular pony would have so much time on her hooves. Don't you have some ridiculous party to attend? A signing perhaps?”

“Don't change the subject.”

Letting out a defeated sigh, the unicorn settled in next to Spitfire on the couch, grimacing at the worn out cloth- Spitfire hoped her after-practice stench had not lingered. “Fine, have it your way,” Trixie hissed.

With a hefty sigh, she began. “Trixie- I did not have the same luck finding work that you came across so easily... But I got by. At first I played small, unimportant gigs: foals' birthday party magic shows, things like that. But it left Trix- it left me wanting something more. I am the Great and Powerful Trixie after all. I wanted to be the best. I studied as hard as I could, even attended Celestia's school, but...” The unicorn trailed off. “I guess I'm a slow learner. I eventually took my show on the road, and those were the best few years of my life. Every town I stopped in loved my tricks, my magic, my light shows! Sure, I may have slightly exaggerated some of my stories, but what good showmare doesn't? And then,” her eyes narrowed, “I came across that wretched Ponyville and that horrible Twilight Sparkle. She just couldn't let me have my moment of glory. It's not as though I wanted to run the town. I just wanted to make a few bits and move on.” She turned to Spitfire, and her eyes filled with tears. “But no... That's not the worst part. The worst part... is that I couldn't even vanquish an Ursa Minor. Sure, Twilight Sparkle showed me up in front of everypony, but it was also my fault.” Trixie buried her face in Spitfire's shoulder, sniffling as she whimpered, “I'm not great or powerful.”

Patting her friend's back, Spitfire hummed to herself. “Well, that's not true. You are great and powerful. Vanquishing an Ursa of any kind is incredibly hard. Surely it's not that big of a deal that you couldn't manage it.”

Trixie froze, laying rigid in Spitfire's hooves. “Not a big deal...?” She yanked away suddenly, leaping to her hooves in front of the Wonderbolt, who could only blink in response. “I'm the laughing stock of every town I go to now! One simple mistake and everypony hates me! I can't work, I have almost no bits. Do you know why I was late today?” Tears were once more filling in her eyes, a couple of them sliding down her cheeks. “Because somepony spray-painted all over my wagon. My home. And there's no way I can pay to fix it. Not even a can of paint to cover it.”

After a brief moment of silence, Spitfire spoke. “I... I had no idea. That must be horrible, Trixie. I'm sorry this happened. I truly am.” Met with silence, the fiery-maned mare continued awkwardly. “Um... I'm sure I can help you!”

“Help me? You can't help me. Nopony can.”

“I could get you a job..." Spitfire paused, tapping her chin in thought. "Ah! You could be a part time act for the Wonderbolts. Or maybe you could do some special effects for our shows!”

Trixie sniffled, rubbing her nose with her hoof. “You'd... You'd do that for Trixie?”

Spitfire smiled, nodding as she tugged her friend into her lap and embraced her. “Of course I would. It's a favor for both of us: you get paid, and the Wonderbolts get an awesome new teammate! Besides, I told you I'd always be here to help you, and I don't intend to go against my word.”

“Spitfire...” Trixie locked eyes with the pegasus, leaning in closer. Her breath was hot on Spitfire's neck, and she couldn't help but want to sit still and let whatever Trixie was planning happen... But no! Trixie was a good friend and she would not ruin that for something so silly! Quickly pulling away and taking to the air above the couch, the Wonderbolts' captain let out a nervous, high-pitched laugh. “Anything for a friend!”

Looking down at the carpet, Trixie nodded. “Y-Yes... A friend.” After a painfully long moment of silence, the azure mare coughed and looked up at Spitfire with an uncharacteristically shy smile. “So, when do I start, boss?”

***

Though it took quite some time to get her to stop whining, Spitfire had finally given Trixie her schedule- she would have to be at practice every morning, the same as all the other ponies who played a part in the Wonderbolts' shows, to learn how to coordinate her fireworks and other effects with the moves of the Wonderbolts. Knowing her friend, she normally would have doubted Trixie would show up on time that upcoming Monday, but she could tell Trixie was eager to impress the others, and to regain her sense of self-worth. Working with the Wonderbolts was an honor, and an offer that Spitfire did not make often (not to mention an honor she probably shouldn't have bestowed upon her friend without checking with the others first). She knew Trixie would take this opportunity seriously. For both of their sakes.

Before she had left Saturday evening, Trixie had tossed a small, leather-bound book at Spitfire's hooves. “Photos from the Young Performer's Camp. Trixie thought you might enjoy a little trip down memory lane.” The mare had smiled, again with the slightest hint of bashfulness, as she headed out the door. “Just don't forget to return them; they mean a lot to Trixie.”

Now, Sunday morning, Spitfire lay sprawled out on the mattress, flipping through the pages of pictures and occasionally smiling. Most of them were simple memories, but vivid ones nonetheless- a picnic, a musical, magic shows (Trixie's favorite!), talent shows. However, the large photo on the final page caught the mare's amber gaze instantly- their graduation picture. Spitfire had been about twelve then, and Trixie, ten or so. And though it was nearly sixteen years ago, the details of that day were etched in the Wonderbolt's mind as clear as day...

*****

“Does my cape look okay?” The small unicorn filly ran in circles trying to get a better look at her homemade “cape”, which really wasn't much more than a towel with some gold star stickers haphazardly plastered onto it. Trixie had been so eager to make her own costume that she refused the help of both her mother and Spitfire, and though it was a bit of a mess, it was a mess Trixie wore with pride.

With a soft giggle, Spitfire nodded at the bundle of energy. “You look wonderful. But you'll have to hold still unless you want to be a little blue blur in the picture!” She ruffled Trixie's mane and grinned.

“Okay, Spitfire!” The filly froze and looked up at the pegasus with wide, awestruck eyes. “I can't believe we're already done. I can't believe I'm officially a magician!” She bounced a bit before catching herself and holding still. “And I couldn't have done it without you.”

Spitfire blushed, cuffing Trixie's ears with a hoof. “Nah, it was all you, kid. I just made sure you realized your potential. You were always great and powerful.” She glanced over at the approaching camera stallion. “Ah, now's our time to shine.”

The small unicorn tore her gaze away from the pegasus with a faint blush. "Okay, Spitfire."

*****

Just before the camera flash had blinded them, Trixie clung to Spitfire's shoulders and gave as mighty a bear hug as her tiny arms could manage. The camera stallion and the camp director hadn't been very happy- the rest of the attendees followed the rules and had remained stony-faced and stiff, but there, in the upper left-hand corner, was Trixie clinging to Spitfire with the most gleeful face the Wonderbolt could ever recall seeing on another pony. She could still remember how excited Trixie was to see her every day, how proud she was when her mom would come to pick her up- she'd exclaim “Say goodbye to Spitfire, my Wonderbolt friend!”; it was the first feeling of being a mentor that Spitfire had ever experienced, and the thing that convinced her that she could be a leader someday.

And she could still remember Trixie's concern as she asked on that final day “You won't forget me, will you?”

As Spitfire closed the photo album, she vowed to make up for lost time. For Trixie.

Her friend.

***

“I don't think you're even trying!” Spitfire hissed at Lightning Streak, who narrowed his eyes in determination, picking up speed as he zipped past the fiery mare. She smiled to herself; her team didn't just function under pressure, it thrived. As the captain of such an important and valued group of ponies, Spitfire did her best to preserve everyone's self-confidence and to keep them performing to the best of their abilities, and she had learned that the “tough love” approach was often very useful at achieving both.

Lately she was feeling particularly focused on the task at hand, as now one of her oldest and closest friends was always nearby, watching the team closely and preparing to act in complete unison with their every move. Trixie had really gotten good at synchronizing her fireworks with the stunts of Spitfire's teammates over the past few weeks, and today would mark the first show that incorporated the magician's light work into the performance. She was more than confident in Trixie's ability, though the unicorn looked like she might lose her lunch at any moment. Descending toward the nervous unicorn, Spitfire chuckled. “Your face is the color of Froggy Bottom Bogg.”

“Can it, Flame-Brain,” Trixie retorted, her tail twitching back and forth and her eyes glued on the pegasi above.

Spitfire lightly nudged her friend's shoulder. “You'll do fine. It's just like during practice.”

“Yes, only hundreds of ponies will be watching,” Trixie scoffed, her hooves kneading the ground below. “They will never let Trixie live it down if she fails.”

The Wonderbolt stretched her wing across Trixie's shoulders, nuzzling her cheek gently. “That probably won't happen. And even if it does, who cares? Everypony messes up sometimes, especially the newbies. Hay, even I still mess up occasionally.”

Trixie fixed Spitfire with a look of trust. “You're sure Trixie is ready?”

“Yes. Now c'mon, the audience will start arriving in ten minutes and we've got to get everyone set up.” Spitfire blew into her whistle, waiting for her team to cease practicing before gesturing toward the locker rooms. “Get suited up, everyone, we're about to get started!” She gave Trixie a quick kiss on the cheek before dashing off toward the mares' locker room.

***

There was a huge turnout for the Canterlot show- but then again, there almost always was- and the stadium was roaring with the sounds of an excited audience. Once more, things had been going extremely smoothly; Surprise had a small incident involving a messy dive, but she was uninjured and the show had continued flawlessly. The grand finale was next, an elaborate move which involved a heavily synchronized series of dives, twirls, and lots of fireworks.

As Spitfire got into position next to Soarin and Silver Lining, she squinted down at the floor of the open-roofed stadium, searching for her blue-coated friend. Unable to see clearly enough through her goggles, she shrugged and looked back to her fellow Wonderbolts. “You know the drill. Count of three. One... two...” A sound cue assaulted her ears. “Three!”

Immediately diving only inches away from Soarin, the pair began to spin and twirl around each other tightly, at times parting to loop up and back down, all the while dodging precisely aimed fireworks. They had practiced this stunt a hundred times, and Spitfire was more or less on auto-pilot.

It took her a moment to register the loud crack, blinding light, and smell of burning hair and feathers.

At first, she thought she had been struck by the firework, but she shortly realized that Soarin was no longer near her, but plummeting down to the stadium floor, gaining dangerous amounts of speed and leaving a trail of smoke behind him. She began to dive after him, though she knew she could never reach him in time. Spitfire's face contorted with horror as she noticed he was hurtling right toward a stand full of ponies. The fans were frantically scrambling away, but it was clear that some of them would not have the time or space to get safely out of reach.

Suddenly, a flash of blue came darting toward Soarin's falling form. Trixie! Spitfire thought, her hopes lifting as Trixie's horn began to glow a pant pinkish-purple. An aura surrounded Soarin, but the speed in which he was falling did not decelerate noticeably, if at all. Spitfire was now close enough to see the strained look on Trixie's face- she was giving it everything she had, but it clearly wasn't enough. Spitfire couldn't stand to see her friend and fans smashed to pieces, but she couldn't look away. She sent a silent prayer to Celestia as time seemed to stand still.

Seconds before impact, Soarin came to a screeching halt, his face still screwed up in preparation of the collision. For a moment, Trixie's face lit up with pride and relief. But it was soon replaced with a look of utter shame and horror: a unicorn stallion, who couldn't have been older than twelve, had wrapped his aura around Soarin's body at the last moment.

As the crowd erupted into cheers, Trixie backed away, her horn's glow fading as tears fell silently from her wide, pained eyes. As a paramedic raced toward Soarin, who luckily seemed mostly uninjured, save for many burnt feathers, the azure unicorn made a mad dash for the exit and disappeared from Spitfire's view. Pausing only for a moment to make sure Soarin was in good hooves, the Wonderbolts' captain took off after Trixie, hoping that she hadn't managed to get too far. Scanning the immediate surroundings, she let out a sigh of relief as she noticed her friend had barely made it down the street. “Hey, Trixie!”

“LEAVE ME ALONE!” Trixie turned and snarled at Spitfire, a look of pure anguish on her face.

“Trixie... please....” Spitfire approached her friend slowly, one step at a time.

“No! There is no recovering from this, Spitfire!”

Another step. “It's okay,” the fiery mare cooed. “Everything will be okay. Nopony blames you.”

“I blame me!” The unicorn sobbed, stepping back. “I couldn't even resolve the problem I caused! A problem a foal could fix! I'm weak and pathetic. You were wrong, Spitfire. How could you mislead me for so long?! I trusted you. I thought I could be somepony!” Trixie kicked at the air in frustration. “Well, that's simply not true!”

“Trixie...”

“If you have any respect for me, you will not follow me, Spitfire.” Turning away, Trixie lowered her head. “I have to get away from everything for a while.”

Tears falling from her own eyes, Spitfire stared at her friend. “Will you come back?”

But there came no reply. Darting away down the street, around the corner, and out of sight Trixie went. One of Spitfire's oldest friends, slipping away.

And for the second time, Spitfire did nothing to stop her.

It's About Pushing Ourselves in The Right Direction

A chuckle escaped Spitfire's muzzle as Fleetfoot and Misty tugged her towards the bar of the club the Wonderbolts were partying in tonight. “C'mon, cap!” Fleetfoot smiled, giving Spitfire an encouraging nod as the fiery mare chose a stool and plopped down unceremoniously. The bar was packed with only the most important of ponies, and yet no one caught Spitfire's eye as she glanced around the crowd. She did manage a half-smile as her teammates stumbled away, clearly enjoying the club and all the booze it offered them. They deserved it. But she didn't.

It had been months since she let Trixie run off, crushed by her failure in front of hundreds if not thousands of ponies. She hadn't caught even a glance of the azure mare since her departure. Spitfire had even resumed searching her fan-mail diligently, and continued to do so every time she stopped by her home in Cloudsdale. There was always an excuse for her frequent trips home: “I have to water my plants” or “I'm worried someone broke in” or even “I need to feed my cat”. She was allergic to cats, and she was pretty darn sure her friends knew that. But whenever she made one of her excuses, they were kind and accepting. They managed without her, but she didn't know if that made her feel better or worse.

Regardless, she always left home disappointed.

She wasn't quite sure why this situation had rooted itself so deeply into her mind, nor was she sure why it affected her so greatly after so much time. Spitfire was not a pony who clung to her problems or failures; if it was in the past, she didn't need to worry about it. But she still felt a guilty pang in her stomach whenever she saw the right shade of blue...

Spitfire had memorized that shade of blue; Trixie had never returned for her photos from the Young Performer's Camp. Spitfire had kept them for a lot longer than she intended, relieving the memories over and over with each viewing, as if they held some kind of time travel magic. Trixie had never asked for them to be returned to her, and Spitfire had never seen a reason to do so; the two saw each other every day thanks to Trixie's short-lived work as the Wonderbolts' effects mare. Another pang of guilt. Spitfire should have cherished the days that she got to spend time with Trixie, even if it was spent mostly at work.

After a quick glance over her shoulder to ensure her friends were out of sight, Spitfire pushed away from the bar's counter and trotted towards the exit, dodging dozens of drunk, giggling, writhing ponies along the way. She was grateful to see everyone was here to celebrate her team's accomplishments, but she knew that she would only spoil their fun if she stuck around. Finally arriving at the door, a rush of warm air flooded the lobby as she pulled it open and stepped outside.

As she ambled down the streets of... where was she again? She narrowed her eyes in thought but the name escaped her. Some small town... ugh. She barely had anything to drink and she still couldn't recall something as important as her current location. Such a lightweight, she thought to herself. Huffing, she tapped the closest pony on the shoulder. “Hey, where are we?” she grumbled.

“Er...” The pony, a dusty golden stallion wearing a brown vest and hat (and smelling strongly of apple cider) looked back at her in disbelief. “We're on 4th Street, ma'am.”

“No no no,” Spitfire hissed impatiently. “What town are we in?”

The apple-scented stallion's emerald colored eyes grew even wider. “Are y'feeling okay, miss...?”

Spitfire groaned and shook her head, rubbing at her temple with a hoof. “I'm fine, just tell me where we are, please,” she replied through gritted teeth.

“Well, we're in Aaaaaaaappleloosa, of course!” Standing on his hind legs and waving around his forelegs, the stallion shot her a wide smile. “Why, would ya like a tour?! We got apple trees, apple pies, apple fritters, apple-”

Thankfully, his speech was cut off by Soarin as he half-stumbled half-dashed through the crowd of ponies outside the bar. Spotting the yellow pegasus, he halted and shouted at the top of his lungs. “Spitfire! There's something weird going on at Ponyville! The town has been taken over!” The throng of ponies began to panic, scattering and shouting as they collided with each other. Spitfire sighed; Soarin didn't know the first thing about keeping things like this from the public. “Hurry!” he added as he took to the skies, headed towards the apparently endangered town.

“Well shucks, that don't sound too good, huh?” Unfortunately, the golden-brown stallion had not been one of the ones to scatter in fear. “Do me a favor, would ya? If ya see an orange pony with three apples for a cutie mark-” what a shock, thought Spitfire, more apples- “and she's in trouble, please make sure to get her out of it.” Spitfire felt this was an unnecessary request, seeing as she'd be saving everypony and not just ones who had friends that requested their safety, but she nodded dutifully all the same before taking off after Soarin.

Hey, at least it was something to do.

***

“It's no use!” Fleetfoot sighed, plopping down on the... force-field... that now surrounded Ponyville. “Whoever made this thing must have some crazy strong magic.”

“Who do you think it was, Spits? Nightmare Moon, maybe?” Soarin, still visibly drunk, looked towards his captain with fearful eyes.

“Don't be stupid,” Spitfire hissed, a headache pounding forcefully against her temples as she struggled to keep herself from snapping. “Nightmare Moon is gone, and even if she wasn't, what would she want with Ponyville?”

Lightning Streak ran his hoof over the dome as he muttered something. “Speak up, Lightning,” Spitfire ordered.

Jumping in surprise and blushing, he stammered “E-Er, I only mentioned that Twilight Sparkle lives in Ponyville, and she's, like, the p-princess's personal protege.”

Twilight Sparkle. Why does that name sound so familiar? Spitfire shrugged it off; if this Twilight Sparkle was important to the princess, certainly somepony else had mentioned her before. Still, there was a nagging feeling that this information was especially vital somehow. “Well, if Twilight Sparkle is in there now,” she pointed out, tapping the dome with a hoof, “then I guess they're in good hooves.” She felt uneasy about this situation, though. It tugged at her instincts and the memory tried to fight through the fog in her brain, but she just couldn't remember why Twilight was important...

“Well, should we go home then?” Fleetfoot asked hopefully. Her eyes were bloodshot and there was obvious desperation in her voice.

“Uh, well...” Spitfire flicked her tail, struggling to think through this grogginess. “You three can go home.” There was instant relief in Fleetfoot's eyes. “I think I'll stay here a while longer, just to make sure things turn out okay. Something doesn't seem right about this...” Shaking her head and immediately regretting it as her headache reminded her that it was still there, she added, “Besides, I promised some apple pony that I'd make sure his friend was okay.”

“I'll make sure everyone get's home okay, ma'am,” Lightning Streak promised with a salute. Spitfire couldn't help but smile; the young stallion was always the mother hen of the group, watching over his teammates and keeping them out of trouble. Sure he was less fun at parties, but he was a valuable asset.

“Thanks. You guys be careful now. If anything happens, I'll clue you guys in tomorrow at practice.” As her friends flew off- carefully guided by Lightning Streak's watchful eye- Spitfire settled herself in on top of the dome and rested her head between her hooves, surrendering to her thoughts.

Her first thoughts were of her team. They were brave, intelligent ponies, and each day she grew more and more proud of them. But at the same time, she was worried. She'd never wanted to be a leader until she thought about how many ponies she could inspire by teaching them what she knew. But her team... She'd taught them everything already. They didn't need her guidance to be great, not anymore. And now that her reason for leading others was wearing thin, she felt overwhelmed by all of her other duties. All the paperwork, all the sponsors, the signings, the meetings, the scheduling. It was driving her mad. This was made worse, of course, by the absence of Trixie...

Spitfire might not have been a perfect pony, but she cared so deeply for her friends that it hurt sometimes. Because of this, she often found herself giving more than she had to offer. Trixie had been no exception to the case. A job, stable income, a place to stay, a friend to talk with: Spitfire had given the blue unicorn all of this and more and still she wasn't satisfied. Trixie still ranted and raved about how far she'd fallen, and how she would never be good enough. It wore her down and in turn, it wore down the one providing all these things for her as well. Despite all the she had given to Trixie, when a problem arose, Trixie immediately turned high-tail and ran, never looking back. And Spitfire had not even tried to get her back. She had not even gotten to know her old friend again before she left; work had gotten in the way and Spitfire didn't bother to make more time. She was a useless friend. A horrible friend. An awful-

The Wonderbolt's pity party cut short as the dome below her seemed to evaporate. She would have been intrigued by this had she not been free-falling, plummeting towards the ground. In her tipsy state, it took her too long to right herself, and she hit the ground with a crack. Searing pain shot through her leg, and she realized quickly that she had a broken leg. Yelping with her attempts to stand, Spitfire laid her head down on the ground and sobbed. There was nopony nearby, and she would have felt like a fool crying out for help. She was a fool. Who had ever heard of a Wonderbolt who couldn't recover from a fall? Defeated (by gravity, of all things), Spitfire gave in to the warmth of sleep, her hurt leg throbbing as her brain slowly shut down.

***

It smells like apples.

Is that apple stallion back? I sure hope not. I don't think I could stand hearing about apples again. Ugh.

Lifting her groggy head from where she lay, the fiery-maned pegasus realized she was not on the ground outside Ponyville anymore. Well, not unless Ponyville had been turned into a large and comfortable bed. And if that was the case, then her leg...

Crying out, she gasped and instantly regretted trying to move the injured limb. Yep, the ground had definitely not been made of pillows and fluff when she hit it. Wincing, she glanced over at her leg and noticed it was still not dealt with. Swollen, maybe, but luckily the bone had stayed inside her body. It was far from the worst injury she'd ever received.

“Well, howdy there!”

The sudden voice startled Spitfire, causing her to jump and once again, strain her leg. “OW OW OW!” Spitfire screeched, taking to the air to keep weight off the useless limb.

“Oh, Celestia. Ah'm sorry!” The voice belonged to an orange mare, her messy blonde mane pulled into a ponytail haphazardly. Her wide green eyes stared up at Spitfire in horror. “Ah'll go get ya some ice an' call for a doctor!” As she turned to the side to exit the room, Spitfire caught a glance of her flank.

“Wait! Appleloosa!” she called, lowering herself to the ground as she held her broken leg tenderly above the ground. The earth pony backtracked, tilting her head to the side in confusion. “Your friend from Appleloosa. He's uh... brownish? And he wears a hat. A cowboy hat.” Spitfire felt so woozy from the night before. “He asked me to make sure you were okay.” The pegasus grinned like a madmare. “And you are. Yay.”

“Uh... right. Ah am. And that wasn't my friend, he's my cousin. His name's Braeburn.” The mare chuckled, extending her hoof towards Spitfire and immediately taking it back given the yellow mare's leg's current status. “Sorry. Ah'm Applejack. And Rainbow Dash told me your name. Spitfire. Sorry but Ah don't watch a whole lotta sports.” Applejack grinned sheepishly. “It's all apples apples apples over here.”

Spitfire groaned.

“Oh right, your ice. Be back in a flash! Hopefully a doctor will be here soon. Mighta been earlier if Trixie hadn't-”

“Trixie?!” Spitfire's head shot up. “As in the Great and Powerful Trixie? Trixie was here?”

Applejack looked puzzled. “Ayep. You know her too, huh? She the reason your leg is broken?”

“No! No of course not, she's my friend...” Spitfire had to admit, Trixie was partially the reason she was in this condition, but mostly that had been her own fault. “Is she still here?”

Snorting, the earth pony shook her head. “Naw, your little friend headed out pretty soon after Twilight showed her what's what. Though it ain't right to blame it all on Trixie, she was under some kinda weird ancient spell...”

Confused and sore, Spitfire let out some kind of exasperated grunt.

“Ice! Ah gotta get the ice. Ah'll be back before you can say lickity split.” Applejack dashed out into the hallway, her hoofsteps fading away as Spitfire struggled to make sense of everything. Trixie was here. Recently. She knew if she waited around, the doctor would have to set her leg and she'd probably be forced to rest... She had to go. Hm... Not in any shape to walk, but luckily you don't need legs to fly. Plus I did what I said I would; apple pony is safe. As quietly as possible, Spitfire creaked open the nearby window with her good leg and awkwardly shuffled outside. I have to find Trixie.

***

She wasn't sure how long she'd been flying. She wasn't even sure she'd headed the right way. But she was sure that she was glad Soarin found her and brought her to the nearest hospital, because she was close to blacking out from pain. Having her leg set had hurt, but the pain pills knocked it out the pain as well as her consciousness. A well deserved nap, indeed.

When she awoke, the first thing she saw was a ton of flowers. Dozens of ponies must have sent them in; it warmed her heart. As her eyes scanned over them, one bouquet caught her eye. A bouquet that was a certain shade of blue.

The tag read “Meet me at the hotel. 5pm sharp. Don't be late; I promise I won't be either. Not this time.”

***

Spitfire wasn't late.

When she arrived at the Manehattan hotel, she wasn't greeted by Trixie, though. A pale pink mare ran up to her the moment she stepped inside the lobby. “Spitfire!” she exclaimed, waving a piece of paper back and forth in her magic excitedly. “First of all, it's awesome to finally meet you! I'm a huge Wonderbolt's fan!” The unicorn beamed, raking her eyes over Spitfire with awe. “But, um.” She shook her head. “That's not why I'm here! Somepony sent me to wait for you to arrive. And she's up in...” She scanned the piece of paper in her grasp. “Ah! Room 517. She says...” She began to read off the card. “'Don't keep Trixie waiting.' Huh. I guess I should let you go then.” The mare looked disappointed.

“Uh... I have time for a photo, if you want,” Spitfire replied. She needed to get to that room, but the look on the young mare's face... She couldn't let another pony down.

After the photoshoot and short conversation, it was still only 4:52pm. Close enough, Spitfire thought as she hobbled up the stairs, too impatient to wait for the elevator. With her leg in a cast, she knew she was probably much slower than even the most rickety elevator, but she was too stubborn to wait regardless. By the time she reached the fifth floor, she was out of breath and sweaty. She fumbled around the pocket of her suit, searching desperately for the key card to her room. “Aha!” Shaking as she ran it through the scanner, Spitfire took a deep breath and opened the door.

She was immediately greeted by Trixie's lips on her own.

At first, Spitfire was tempted to embrace the moment. To sink into the kiss and enjoy something that she had been denying for a long time. But Spitfire had never been a pony to live only for the moment. If she went through with this, if she had a relationship with Trixie before she even really knew her...

No.

Spitfire pulled away, looking down at the floor. “Hello would have sufficed.”

Not getting the memo, Trixie rubbed her cheek across Spitfire's, nibbling at her neck. “But Trixie thought you deserved a very special hello.” The azure mare was practically purring, but she stopped when she noticed how badly Spitfire was shaking. “Hm? What's wrong?” Trixie pulled back and noticed the tears in Spitfire's eyes. “Did Trixie do something wrong?”

“Yes.”

Hurt, Trixie took a step back, holding a hoof in front of her chest. “Oh.”

Tired of beating herself up, tired of feeling guilty and hurt for the past three months, Spitfire exploded. “You left me! I gave you a place to live! I gave you a job! I gave you all my free time, and how do you thank me?! By leaving the second something goes wrong!” Spitfire sighed, a growl escaping her lips. “You don't bother to contact me for months, and then you think you can make up for it with a kiss?” The yellow mare knew she was being unfair. She knew she was being hurtful. And she didn't care. “I don't want you, Trixie. Not like that. I just wanted to be sure you were safe. And you are. So...” She gave a hefty sigh. “Leave.”

For once, Trixie didn't listen. “No, Trixie isn't going anywhere.”

“I'll call security.”

“Do what you must.”

Crap. Trixie had always been good at calling Spitfire's bluff. “Fine, you can stay. But we're gonna talk this out, like adults. Like platonic adults!” Rubbing her head and glancing down at her leg, she let out another sigh. “But not tonight. I'm too tired.”

After taking off her suit and quickly eating an apple (oh how she wished it wasn't the only thing in the hotel), Spitfire settled into her bed, snuggling into the freshly cleaned sheets. She was almost asleep when she felt them rustling. She cracked open an eye and spotted an azure figure sneaking into her bed, barely visible in the silver moonlight. “No,” she grumbled. “Couch.” The figure froze briefly and then retreated, back down the hall and into the living room. With a satisfied grunt, Spitfire rolled over. Try as she might, she could not manage to get back to sleep. It was so cold... It would be nice to share her bed with somepony. Somepony blue and beautiful and...

No.

Couch, she reminded herself. That's where Trixie belonged.

Definitely not in her arms.

Please, Celestia. Raise the sun early.

Everypony Deserves a Second Chance—Even a Third Chance!

A feeling of warmth and the smell of baking bread awoke Spitfire from her deep slumber. Lazily dabbing at a trail of drool hanging from the corner of her mouth, the fiery mare stretched slowly, tenderly avoiding moving her cast-bound leg too excessively. She was surprised to notice it felt much better already, but that didn't mean she was going to push her luck. Unable to ignore the rumbling of her empty belly, the pegasus slowly lifted herself from the overstuffed bed and, groaning with lingering sleepiness, limped her way down the narrow hall towards the kitchen.

Upon entering the room, she was once again struck by a strange feeling in her chest and a goofy smile on her face; greeting her groggy eyes was Trixie. The best kind of Trixie, too – most of the time the deep blue unicorn kept up her air of aloofness, always looking neutral and unattached, never lowering herself to the level of engaging with those around her. But now, with her mane sticking out in patches, her cape and hat long forgotten on the couch, her hips swaying slightly as she prepared her breakfast... this was when Spitfire thought Trixie was the most beautif - er, great and powerful. The magician was humming softly as she stirred some kind of batter in a large mixing bowl, unaware that Spitfire was in the room. The yellow mare made sure that the smile had disappeared from her face before she coughed, alerting the busy unicorn to her presence.

“Oh!” Trixie jumped a bit, nearly dropping the bowl from her magical grasp. Turning to face the new visitor, she gave a small, almost shy smile. “You startled Trixie. Good morning, Spitfire.”

Spitfire grunted in reply, turning towards the small oven and sniffing the air.

Sauntering over to the glowing oven, Trixie's smile broadened. “Cheer up! Trixie is making you a breakfast befitting Celestia herself.” Rubbing her hoof over her chest, the unicorn gave a small smug guffaw. “Trixie is not only talented in performing magic, after all.”

“Right.” Straining to look disinterested despite her aching stomach, Spitfire glared at her guest. “Don't think I've forgotten that we need to talk.”

Though her smile faltered slightly, Trixie kept up her cheerful facade. “Why, of course Trixie didn't forget. It's right at the top of her to-do list.” She turned her attention back to the mixing bowl, stirring as she continued. “Trixie simply thought you might enjoy a nice home-cooked meal first. Nopony likes to think on an empty stomach.”

Fair enough, Spitfire agreed, plopping down at the small hotel room's table and picking up a nearby magazine. She opened it wide, but she wasn't comprehending any of the articles inside. Her mind kept returning to the night before. Am I really sure I don't want a relationship with Trixie? Truth be told, she was always more attracted to mares than stallions, not that both didn't have their charms. But she'd never been with a unicorn; it seemed all too complicated, what with her constant traveling by flight... That being said, Trixie could resume working with the Wonderbolts and then... No, she thought. I'm getting ahead of myself. A relationship could ruin our friendship! But then again, their friendship seemed non-existent already. Sure, they'd been friends when they were younger, but they had just rekindled their friendship. Maybe the next natural step would be a romantic one. But could anypony truly love and be loved by Trixie? All she seemed to care about was herself, and if Spitfire did end up loving her, she had trouble believing the feeling would be returned...

“Slow reader, huh?” Trixie's voice made Spitfire flinch, realizing she'd been staring at the same page of the magazine for the past ten minutes or so. Coughing, she turned the page, burying her face deeper into the magazine to hide the slight blush on her face. Trixie smirked, setting a plate down in front of the blushing Wonderbolt. “Guess you'll have to finish that... enthralling article later, hm?” The unicorn set her own plate down and smiled across the table. “Dig in!”

Spitfire eyed her plate – it was filled with things that made her mouth water. Scrambled eggs, toast, pancakes. A fresh glass of milk gently floated over her head and landed in front of her, Trixie winking as her magic flickered off. Determined not to be swayed by the meal, Spitfire slowly took a bite of the pancakes.

Oh Luna, these are delicious. Spitfire's face melted into a silly grin, but immediately shot back into a stern frown when she noticed Trixie giggling. But I'm still angry! she reminded herself, begrudgingly taking another bite.

“Trixie dabbled in the culinary arts a few years back,” the azure mare commented, pausing to gulp down a bite of eggs. “When one is constantly on the road, sometimes between towns, she must learn to cook for herself.” Chuckling, the unicorn reclined in her seat a bit, staring up at the ceiling. “Trixie's mother often joked that her cutie mark should be a fried egg.” Her face fell a bit as she sighed. “Trixie- I suppose everypony doubted I was actually talented at magic.”

Groaning, Spitfire set her fork down, her eyes narrowing as she stared down the mare across from her. “I wish you'd stop doing that.”

“Hm? Doing what?” Trixie looked honestly confused, tilting her head ever so slightly as she met Spitfire's gaze.

Looking away from her brilliant violet eyes, Spitfire shrugged, busying herself with pushing the food around her plate. “I don't know exactly. Doubting yourself. Assuming everyone around you is doubtful of you too.” She found the courage to meet Trixie's gaze again. “That's not the Trixie I knew.” Allowing herself a small smile, she set her fork down once more and continued. “My Trixie... er, the Trixie I knew, she was talented and smart and she never doubted it. She was proud and incredible. She loved herself and everypony knew it.” Spitfire sighed. “Perhaps it was a little annoying at times, but at least you were happy. Not this... angsty angry shell of a pony you are now.”

Trixie winced, flicking her ears back as she shook her head. “You don't understand, Spitfire. I do love myself. It's everypony else that doesn't.”

“I love you.” Spitfire spoke without thinking, and quickly corrected herself. “I-I mean, er... You're my friend, and I care about you.” Flicking her tail nervously and blushing bright red, she added awkwardly, “I know the other 'Bolts share the sentiment.”

“May I ask you something, Spitfire?”

Snorting, Spitfire waved her hoof. “You just did.”

“Second question.” Trixie scooted her chair closer to the pegasus, scratching against the tile below, the sound screeching in Spitfire's still tender ears. Leaning in close, she practically whispered, “Why am I just your friend?”

The pegasus reacted violently, yanking away and lifting up into the air. “Ugh! You know, I have better things to do.” Today, she didn't actually have anything to do, but even listening to Soarin talk about his pie tin collection was better than being subjected to this. Landing a few feet away and stomping as well as she could with her injured leg, she grabbed her captain's suit from the loveseat and opened the door to the hotel. “Thanks for the breakfast. Hopefully you'll decide to stick around for dinner,” she grumbled, storming outside and slamming the door. The instant she was in the hall, the mare slumped down to the floor, resting her head in her hooves and groaning. She felt like crying, but she told herself she was stronger than that. Things could be so much worse, she reminded herself, slowly picking herself up after a few moments and trotting over to the elevator. Her hoof hesitated, hovering over the down button. She considered going back to her hotel, spending the rest of the day with Trixie... maybe even sharing a real kiss... “Y'know what? No.” Shaking her head, she vowed that she wouldn't let something as insignificant as an uncomfortable friendship ruin her day; with a determined smile, the Wonderbolt pressed the button and whistled cheerfully as she waited for the lift to arrive.

***

Left without a schedule due to her medical leave, Spitfire decided to return to Applejack's home. She knew her departure had been extremely rude, especially after all the orange mare had done for her in her time of need. Though there was a haze that the past few days had left on her memories, the pegasus still remembered what the large farm where she had spent the night looked like, so she set off straight for Ponyville, favoring her wings over the train. She had always enjoyed a long flight, anyway. Usually, her mind drifted off as her practiced body when into autopilot. There was nothing else in the wide wide world of Equestria that Spitfire loved more than flying.

In fact, she enjoyed the flight so much that the bright maroon of the Apple family's barn was visible before she even got fatigued. Touching down lightly outside the gate of the fence, the bright yellow mare trotted the length of the path up to the door, enjoying the beautiful apple trees (though the smell of apples made her a bit queasy, she had to admit). Before she could raise her hoof to knock on the door, it swung open into her face, bouncing off her muzzle painfully. “Ouch!” she exclaimed, more surprised than hurt.

“Oh... whoops! I'm real sorry, miss!” A tiny pale yellow filly looked up at Spitfire, bouncing in place; she seemed like she was in a huge rush to get somewhere.

“Er... that's okay.” Spitfire rubbed her nose, looking around the filly and into the house. “Is Applejack home?”

“Ayep!” The small filly turned back around and shouted, “Hey Applejack, there's a Wonderbolt here to see ya and I slammed the door into her nose so y'should probably do something about that!” Grinning sheepishly, the red-headed filly scooted past Spitfire. “Sorry to be in a rush, Miss Wonderbolt, but me and the girls got big problems, y'know?” She continued down the path, her tiny legs sprinting full force. Spitfire watched as she disappeared into a tree-house before turning back to the now open wide doorway and waiting patiently. She'd never been great with kids, but she supposed they were cute enough. I wonder if the filly is Applejack's. They look alike.

Soon enough, hoofsteps approached the door and Applejack came into view, looking exactly the same as last time Spitfire saw her, save for the addition of a brown hat. Just like Braeburn's, Spitfire mused. “Oh shucks, she wasn't kidding! Howdy again, Missus Spitfire!” Once again, the orange mare extended her hoof in greeting before remembering the condition of Spitfire's leg. “Oh right.” Chuckling, the mare opened the door a bit wider and stepped to the side. “C'mon in. Make yourself at home. Ah'll be right back.” Stepping out the door, she began to yell. “Apple Bloom, if you keep slamming doors into ponies' faces all the time, you're gonna be grounded for a month! And if Ah ever-” her voice faded as she walked toward the tree-house, leaving Spitfire alone in the living room. Well, alone aside from an ancient looking green mare.

“Well hello there, youngster,” the old mare said with a smile. “What brings you around here? Friend of my dear Applejack's?”

“Something like that,” Spitfire responded with a grin, stealing a glance at the mare's cutie mark. “Whoa! I know you! You're Granny Smith, right?” A bit of a history buff, Spitfire knew the founder of Ponyville was an apple farmer with an apple pie as a cutie mark, but she didn't know she still lived in Ponyville! Or that she lived at all, really...

Granny Smith's smile widened. “Darn tootin'! I'll be honest, I didn't take you for a scholar when you first got here. At least, not something as obscure as Ponyville history.” She beamed. “I'm pleasantly surprised. Applejack's lucky to have such a well-read pal.”

Blushing, Spitfire rubbed a hoof on the back of her neck. “Well, I don't know about all that...”

"Well, I do! I've know so many ponies in my days, and let me tell ya, youngin', I can always tell when somepony's got a strong mind." Rocking gently in her chair, the pale green earth pony smiled warmly. "Ponies like that remind me so of my daughter."

Spitfire did wonder just where Applejack's mother and father were; she hadn't seen them either time she'd been on the farm. Though to be fair, she spent most of her first trip passed out in a guest room. "Erm... Granny Smith, just where is your daughter anyway? I mean-"

Interrupted by the door slamming, Spitfire turned her attention to Applejack as she stomped her way to the living room. “Welcome back, Spitfire,” she panted, clearly out of breath after chasing Apple Bloom. “Ah hope Granny kept ya entertained while Ah was chasing my sister.”

“Sister?”

“Ayep, who'd you think she was?”

“Well... I thought maybe she was your foal.” Shrugging, she added, “You look alike. Don't know why I didn't even consider you might be sisters.”

Guffawing, Applejack shook her head. “Nahpe, Ah don't have no foals. Ah doubt Ah ever will at this rate. Too much work to do!" Chuckling and wiping at a tear in her eye, Applejack shook her head. "Nah, that there's my little sister Apple Bloom.” She glanced at the door, smiling fondly. “She's a hoof-ful, but Ah wouldn't trade her for anything.”

Nodding, the fiery-maned pegasus shifted her weight to her good leg awkwardly. “I know what you mean. I have two sisters myself. Only one of them is younger than me, though.”

Flashing Spitfire a quick smile, Applejack turned to Granny Smith. “Big Mac out working the fields? Ah wanna have a quick chat with Miss Spitfire before I head out for the noon shift.”

“Ayep.”

That was cute, the way they said yes, she had to admit. The whole family was cute. It made her ache for her own.

“Right, well c'mon, Spitfire. Mind if Ah call ya Spitty? Rolls off the tongue.” Without waiting for an answer, the orange mare tugged Spitfire down the hall. “Ah'm sure ya got some questions about Trixie? That's why you're here, right?”

Trotting alongside her, Spitfire shrugged. “Yes and no. Trixie is back at my place right now.” Applejack's eyes widened, but she waited for the Wonderbolt to continue. “I know I could ask her about what happened, but I might not get the truth. Or, at least not the unbiased truth. No, actually I came here to thank you for taking care of me. But if you have the time, I wouldn't really mind hearing about what happened with Trixie.”

“No trouble at all.” Applejack waved a hoof and turned into a room off the hall. “Have a squat on that there bed and Ah'll fill ya in.” Settling down on one end of the bed, Applejack began. “Well, Ah reckon Trixie was still sore 'bout being shown up by Twilight last time she visited Ponyville.” Spitfire raised an eyebrow. “Don't know 'bout that either, huh?” Applejack chuckled. “Ah'll give you the short version. Trixie showed up, claimed she could out-do anypony who challenged her, said something 'bout defeating some star-bear. Sounds weird, Ah know. But some foals decided to bring one o' them bears here for her to defeat, and turns out she couldn't do it. Luckily, Twilight could.”

Pausing, the blonde-maned mare shrugged, flicking her ears to the side as Granny Smith's rocking chair creaked from the living room. “Didn't see hide nor hair of her for some time, but Trixie decided she wasn't done with us yet. Came in and took over the whole dang town. Even beat Twilight in a magic battle.”

“Whoa, that's impressive. From what I've heard, Twilight is quite the powerful magician.” Spitfire couldn't understand where all that power came from if Trixie couldn't even catch a falling pony just months before. “Must have been training hard, huh?”

“Anope. Good of you to think fondly of your friend, but she cheated. Used some magical amulet thingy, uh... ain't sure about the details, but long story short it corrupted her and she turned kind... crazy. Made everypony her slave until Twilight came back an' outsmarted her. Made her take off the amulet and broke the curse Ah guess. Like Ah said, Ah ain't so knowledgeable 'bout magic.” Applejack leaned back on the bed, stretching her back. “That's 'bout when you dropped by.” Glancing at Spitfire's cast, she laughed. “No pun intended.”

Spitfire chuckled. “Gotcha. I guess that's all I needed to know.”

Applejack stood. “Well good, 'cause no offense, but Ah got a lotta work to do.” She glanced out the window. “Can't let Mac overwork himself again.”

“I understand.” Reaching into her pocket, she pulled out a scrap of paper. “First though, do you have a pen?”

“Well sure... One sec.” Applejack wandered down the hall, and Spitfire took advantage of the time alone to look around the room; it must have been Applejack's. On the wall over her bed hung a picture of a mare and a stallion smiling widely while two foals – a small orange one and a bigger bright red one – raced around them. Before Spitfire had time to wonder again just where Applejack's parents were, the pony in question returned, tossing a pen at the pegasus. “Think fast!”

Spitfire reached up to catch it, and it collided with her cast, bouncing onto the floor. “Ha! Oops,” Applejack snorted with laughter as Spitfire leaned down to pick it up, giggling herself. “Whatcha need that for anywho?”

“I'm going to write my address down for you. Soarin's been raving about your apple pies since the Gala. I figured you could send about, say, two or three dozen to me once a month and I'll use 'em as a reward for my team.” She winked, nudging the paper towards Applejack. “If you're up for it, I'll be happy to pay more than enough for the pies, since they are made by the pony who helped me out in a tough spot. Maybe we could even advertise your pies at our shows.”

“Shucks! Y'all don't have to do all that. But Ah certainly won't turn down your offer.” Applejack picked up the scrap of paper and put it in the drawer of her dresser. “Ah gotta get to work now. But one question, and pardon me if Ah'm intruding, but... Is Trixie your marefriend?”

Spitfire blushed, shuffling her good leg awkwardly. “N-No. Why do you ask?”

The orange earth pony gave Spitfire an odd look before shrugging. “No reason. Y'all would look nice together is all. Orange and blue are pretty together.” She paused. “Well, Ah'll be honest... Y'all would like nice together and all that but... Ah figured you must really love her to put up with somepony like that. No offense.”

“Trust me, Applejack,” Spitfire replied with a grin, “none taken.”

***

It was nearly 10pm when Spitfire made it back to Manehattan. She worried briefly that Trixie had left, but she reminded herself that she was supposed to be angry at the azure show pony anyway. Storming into her hotel, she froze when she noticed the blue unicorn was not in the living room or the kitchen. Her heart sank. Whatever, that saves me a lot of thinking. She shuffled sadly to her room, hoping to collapse and sleep for the next few days. As she entered the dimly lit room, she noticed a blue figure outlined faintly on her bed. She let out a soft sigh of relief, and stripping off her suit, climbed gingerly into the bed next to her unicorn friend.

Stirring, Trixie turned to face Spitfire. “Spit... fire.” Her body quivered as she stretched. “I'm sorry... I- Trixie will go to the couch.”

Before she could get up, Spitfire placed her hoof on Trixie's side.

“No. Stay.”

Though Trixie stayed on the far side of the bed that night, Spitfire was still kept awake by the butterflies in her belly. Tomorrow. she told herself again, I will have everything sorted out. This is nothing the captain of the Wonderbolts can't handle.

And as she lay awake, her mind drifted to Applejack's family, and in turn, her own. A pang of sadness replaced the butterflies in her belly as she remembered the last time she had seen her father. Oddly enough, it had also been the last time she saw Trixie face to face until recently.

*****

"Can you believe it, Spitfire?" Trixie, smoothing down her mane as she gazed into the mirror in front of her. "You're graduating high school! And leaving me all alone..." Trixie pouted, using her magic to bonk Spitfire on the head with her brush. "You had better write to me. Often."

A chuckle escaping her throat, Spitfire pretended to be wounded by the brush tap. "Oh, woe is me! You've slain me, Trixie, and now I can never graduate! I'll haunt the school for the rest of my life!" Spitfire flopped to the floor, rolling around on her back.

Fussing, Trixie nudged Spitfire to her hooves. "At least it'd give me a couple more years with you." Her eyes watering slightly, she put Spitfire's gown back in place. "Now stop being silly! You need to look your best for the ceremony." Trixie wiped at her eyes, returning to the mirror. "Horsefeathers! You've made my make-up run!"

Spitfire laughed, glancing at her own reflection in the mirror. "Why does it matter? You're not graduating yet."

Trixie flashed her a good natured glare. "Don't remind me." Giving her mane one last fuss, she set down the brush and shrugged. "Doesn't mean I can't make myself look nice." She admired her reflection in the mirror.

Trotting over to her best friend, Spitfire kissed her on the tip of her horn. "You look perfect. Now let's go!"

Spitfire turned away too soon to see Trixie blush bright red, her legs wobbling slightly.

*****

She made sure to stop the memory there. What had happened after that had changed both their lives forever, and not for the better. Glancing over at her sleeping friend, Spitfire wondered what had happened since they parted ways in high school. After the death of her father, she hadn't bothered keeping in touch with Trixie... or anypony really. But what she did know what that something had changed in Trixie. She hadn't pursued magic only because she loved it. She had always wanted to be the best, but now she was obsessed with it. Tomorrow... Yawn. Tomorrow I will make all of this right.

***

When Spitfire awoke, her room was once again empty.