Sweet Apple Winter: An Apple Jack and Soarin story

by Boomstick Mick

Rating: teen
Tags: Slice of Life, Romance, Comedy
Length: 9907

Jealousy, mistrust, and sabotage are imminent when the fates of a certain Wonder Bolt and a Certain Cowgirl intertwine.

Another season - another love story.
There are many things that may be detrimental to a relationship: a jealous friend, an overprotective sibling, a vindictive former lover, a demanding military career. All of these may seem daunting for a relationship, but then again, Soarin and Apple Jack are the type who relish a good challenge.

Published 1970-01-01 00:00:00 UTC
Last updated 2014-01-16 21:17:16 UTC

Soldier boy

The frigid winter skies of the region in which Soarin was currently stationed made the task of flying without clothes far too uncomfortable for him, and wearing his flight suit in civilian territory was only asking for trouble. He knew from experience that it would only take one observant enthusiast to notice him before he'd be mobbed by fans - no matter how stealthy he tried to be. Instead, he adorned a pair of dark-tented aviator shades and his old Air Corps jacket: a brown leather bomber's coat with a fleece lining around the collar that he was issued in the military. His dog tags, which he rarely removed, jingled and clanked in a chiming metallic cadence around his neck as he lingered in in the air above the vast farmland of Sweet Apple Acres, searching for that golden blonde country lass who's gift for baking the holy grail of apple pies made her the only pony he looked forward to seeing whenever Spitfire would drag him to that horrid, mind-numbing gala every year; having to mingle with those sycophantic, pretentious snobs who - Soarin swore - could get high from the fumes of their own flatulence - was a small price to pay so long as he could end those nights with the after-flavor of one of those pies dancing on his taste buds.

It was true enough that the pastry-loving stallion could obtain an apple pie from many of the fine bakeries or stands within Ponyville or the town of Cloudsdale above, but there was just something about THESE particular pies that this southern belle bakes that made them stand out. He could not say what it was that made them so special: It could be the vanilla she adds in the crust to give it that extra kick of flavor, or the spicy cinnamon she adds to the filling that tantalized the stallion's senses, or perhaps she's been illegally dosing them with every addictive substance under Celestia's sun to drum up repeat business. He didn't know what it was, nor did he care. All he knew at that time was that he couldn't start the first day of his new assignment in Cloudsdale without one.

Soarin eventually found himself hovering above the quaint-looking two story homestead of the farm. The thought of ringing the doorbell did cross his mind, but it was early in the morning, and he didn't wish to be a nuisance to the farmgirl or anyone she resided with.

Maybe it was a mistake to come here so early, he thought to himself. Maybe she has a stand or a shop in town that I may have overlooked.

His ears suddenly twitched and adjusted like little satellites when they picked up a dull thud resonating in the distance. With a few powerful flaps he increased his elevation and scanned the direction from which the noise resounded. After several moments of silent observation, Soarin noticed a section of leaves amid the sprawling canopy rustling with another thud. Could that be her?

Soarin soared above the canopy toward the location of the clamorous thumps until he was directly over the rustling tree that had captured his attention. He then slowly descended hoofs-first and sank through the foliage, evading the thick boughs with relative ease, and brushing passed the switches and twigs until he breached the thick green vegetation of the treetops. He landed soundlessly on the orchard's floor where he was greeted with the tired gaze of a large, muscular earth pony standing near a wagon full of barrels, some of which were filled with freshly bucked apples.

A few awkward moments went by as they silently traded fixed stares. "Hello," Soarin finally said, breaking the uncomfortable silence.

"Good ta meet ya," The large stallion politely nodded before turning around and lumbering his way to the base of tree. "What brings ya to our farm, flyboy?" he asked before striking the tree with a powerful one-legged kick that rattled the hanging fruit from their branches. Soarin was impressed by the stallion's power and precision as he watched all but one apple land in the barrels surrounding the tree.

"This is Sweet Apple Acres, isn't it?" Soarin asked.

"Eeyup," the red earth pony replied tersely before picking the lone apple from the ground by it's stem and tossing it in one of the wooden containers with the others.

Soarin approached him and politely extended his hoof, which the large pony took while the pegasus continued. "I'm looking for a mare: golden coat, long yellow mane, You know her?" Soarin could suddenly feel the earth pony's grip becoming tighter as the edges of his eyes sharpened into a suspicious glare.

"May Ah inquire as to why ya might be lookin' for mah baby sister, sir?"

"Oh, so she's your sister?" Soarin responded cheerfully, oblivious and unwary to the hulking stallion's agitation. "In that case you must know where she is. The faster you can tell me where her stand is, the faster I can get my mouth around that sweet pie of hers!"

Soarin's ambiguous comment was answered with the large and heavy hoof of fraternal fury, sending his glasses flying as the force from the large hoof sent him reeling back. "Okay..." The battered pegasus said after he ran his tongue along his rows of teeth to confirm that they were all accounted for. "I admit that I could have worded that better..."

"Big Mac, what have ya done!?" came a southern-accented voice from off in the distance. The voice sounded familiar to the battered stallion, but he couldn't confirm that it was actually who he thought it was until he had his senses in check. The ringing in his ears gradually went away as he focused in on their heated conversation.

"You obviously didn't hear what he said before Ah had to smack him," the large earth pony insisted.

"Ah don't care what he said; you should know better than to just take a swing at someone just cuz they offended you!"

"Sis, let yer big brother talk! Once you hear what he just said, you'll probably wanna smack him, too!"

"Ah don't care what he said; there's no excuse for hitting someone unless it's out'a self-defense, and Ah saw YOU raise yer hoof first!"

"He just referred to himself as her big brother - that must be her," Soarin concluded before he wiped the blood from his throbbing lip. He shook his head a few times and focused his eyes to get a better look at her as she continued to chide her older sibling. Upon his inspection, the first thing he noticed was how fetching she was without that gala dress hindering the view to her lithe figure.  Soarin surreptitiously scanned her from head to hoof: Everything from her flaxen hair that shimmered in the morning light with the intensity of a platinum fire, to the dip in her back, to her golden tail, to her lean, yet curvaceous hind legs. No wonder her brother feels like he needs to be so protective of her - she's a stone-cold fox. It wasn't until the farmgirl looked back at him that he realized he had let his mind wander. His eyes that had been fixed on her ass instantly darted away. He quickly looked to the sky and tried to play himself off as if he was scrutinizing the weather; his facade, he imagined, must not have been very convincing as his view of the sky was blocked by the dense vegetation that made up the roof of the surrounding orchards.

"Sugarcube?" the farmgirl called out to him in her smooth southern drawl. "Is there somethin' wrong with yer wings?"

"Oh, shit." Soarin looked back, and sure enough, his wings which protruded from his jacket stood erect from his back, stiff as stone, and nearly hard enough to bludgeon an ursa to death with. "Just airing em out," he lied with a sheepish chuckle. "You know how it is."

"We ain't got wings, so - no - we don't know how it is," the farmgirl's brother spat before his younger sister gave him a hard elbow to the chest.

"Big Mac, Ah done told ya to be nice!" The golden mare then approached the wounded stallion and gently placed a hoof on his face. He felt a slight burn in his cheeks when she leaned in to inspect his swollen lip.

"Wow, Ah'm impressed," the farmgirl said with a relieved smile.

"I know, right?" Soarin chuckled. "Even with a split lip, I'm fucking gorgeous!"

A corner of the farmgirl's mouth stretched into a half smile as she rolled her eyes. "Sugarcube, yer some kinda corny, ya know that?"

"Yeah, I'm a real jackass," Soarin laughed as he shyly rubbed the back of his head.

The other corner of the farmgirl's mouth stretched until her restrained smile finally gave way to an adorable giggle that warmed the winged stallion's heart; even those little hyuks of hers had a southern drawl laced into them.

"What Ah was tryin' ta say," the mirthful cowgirl forced through her chuckles, "was that Ah'm impressed with how quick ya'll recovered from takin' a lickin' from mah big brother. Ah was almost afraid to look at ya - Ah could hear the impact his hoof made on yer face from where Ah was standin'."

Soarin laughed. "I'm fine; his punch had nothing on it. Actually, his hoof felt kind of soft." He then turned to give the hulking brute a smirk. "He must moisturize."

The farmgirl snorted before breaking out into another fit of that cute laughter of hers.

The large red stallion barred his teeth in anger at Soarin's statement. "Ah think it's time fer ya to fly off'a mah land the same way ya came 'for ya get hurt, ya little wise-ass," he growled.

"As soon as I get what I came here for," Soarin retorted before turning his attention back to the gold-toned country girl. "Miss, I don't suppose you have a pie you can sell me?"

"Sorry, surgarcube," the farmgirl shrugged, "mah stand ain't open yet. Ah usually sell mah apples and baked goods at mah stand on stirrup street in the afternoon, though. Are you new in town? Ah don't believe Ah ever seen ya around. How do you know about mah pies?"

"Yeah, I'm new..." Soarin quickly fabricated a fib, not wanting to disclose his identity. "I have a, uhm, a friend - who told me you bake the best pies in Equestria. I'm some what of a connoisseur of pie, so I was looking forward to trying one of yours."

"Oh, well, who's yer friend? Maybe Ah could give ya a discount."

"I don't think he would appreciate me discussing him while he's not around," Soarin lied. "You see, he's one of those paranoid types. Thinks everything is a conspiracy against him. Poor guy."

"Ah'm not sure if Ah know anyone like that," the farmgirl replied with an inquisitive expression.

"Yeah, he kinda keeps to himself. I don't mind paying the full price, though." Soarin became fearful that this girl was beginning to smell his bull shit. He decided to change the subject before he could dig his hole any deeper. "Hey, you wouldn't happen to have the time on you by any chance, would you?"

The cowgirl squinted as she looked up at the sky through a ray of light in the canopy. "Judgin' from the sun's position, Ah'd say it's around ten... It's definitely after nine, but that's all Ah can really tell without a clock."

"You can extrapolate the time from looking at the sun's position?" Soarin asked in amazement. "That's a neat trick."

"Yeah, well, when ya spend a lotta time outside ya pick up on things like that. Ah don't normally wear a watch, cuz it'd just get all scuffed up in mah line of work."

"Sounds sensible," Soarin nodded before before a startling realization set in. "Wait, did you say it was past nine?"

"Yeah, ya got somewhere ya need to be?"

"Oh crap, I'm going to be late on my first day!" Soarin urgently unfolded his wings and crouched into takeoff. "I'll be back this afternoon for that pie. Stirrup street, right?"

"That's right, sugarcube. I'll be sure to have a fresh one just for you."

"Sounds nice," Soarin smiled. "It was nice meeting you, miss..."

"Applejack. And Ah'm sorry if yer first experience here at Sweet Apple Acres wasn't a pleasant one." Applejack then turned to her big brother who stood with a glare fixed on the winged stallion. "You say yer sorry, Big Mac."

The large earth pony turned away and huffed a steaming puff of air from his nostrils.

"It's alright," Soarin replied with a roguish grin. "Getting to make the acquaintance of a sultry southern beauty such as yourself more than made up for it." Soarin lingered before taking off, wanting to see how the farmgirl would react. There was a slight fear in the back of his mind that he may have just offended her with his capricious come on.

"Well, look at you tryin' ta be all smooth-like," she giggled as she coyly swirled the tip of her hair around with a hoof, the faint blush lines on her cheeks and muzzle gradually intensifying, further accenting the white freckles between her eyes that dotted her face like an adorable little constellation.

...Damn, that's cute...

"Ah guess ya should probably get to where yer goin', huh?"

That line snapped Soarin out of his stupor. "Yeah, I should probably be heading out now. I gotta get to work."

"Too bad, cuz I'd like ta hear some more of them corny pick up lines of yers," She chuckled.

"Corny? Who are you calling corny? I'm a poet!"

"Sure ya are," she responded. "Sultry southern beauty... Sounds like a Luck Brian song."

"Yeah, well if you'd like to hear some more of my corny quips, I'll think of some real zingers while I'm on duty."

The farmgirl seductively turned her head in a confident-looking, sideways smirk. "Can't wait to hear em - Ah don't believe Ah got yer name, though."

"Just call me whatever you want," Soarin replied in the hopes that she wouldn't press the issue.

"Okay..." The farmgirl gave him a thorough look over, taking note of his military-issued jacket, the aviator shades, the dog tags around his neck, and the military-style take off stance he was crouched in. "Soldier boy."

"I like it," Soarin responded approvingly before he took off toward the floating city of Cloudsdale. "See you this afternoon!" he yelled back to her.

"I'll have a fresh pie baked just for you. Don't be late, soldier boy!" Applejack yelled back with an enthusiastic wave.

"That girl is the absolute embodiment of adorableness," Soarin sighed before pushing her out of his mind. Right then, on to business.  He gradually accelerated and tore through a thick layer of cloud cover, leaving a large hole in the white blanket from where he had breached it. The drag wind that the speedy stallion created had pulled a section of the cloud along with him, creating a white jet stream to follow in his wake as he sped toward the floating town of Cloudsdale in the distance.

The academy below Soarin was bustling and lively with eager pegusi who longed to earn the right to be bestowed upon the sought after title of "Wonderbolt." Soarin took in the sight as a powerful and sentimental sense of nostalgia washed over him. To him, it was just like the military training camp he had grown so fond of in his past career in the Air Corps. "Another fine day in this man's Corps," was what he said every morning to his recruits when he was a drill instructor. "Sir! A fine day, indeed, Sir!" Is how they'd always reply. He couldn't say that here, though. This was not the Air Corps. This was an academy. Still though, that didn't mean his cadets would be treated with any less stringency than his recruits did. His cadets were second year Senior students, and if they wanted the title of Wonderbolt, he was going to make them earn it.

Soarin's train of thought was abruptly brought to an end when he suddenly collided in mid air with another pegusis. The two flailed momentarily as gravity pulled them down, but they both skillfully balanced themselves out with a few flaps.

"Sorry about that," the female pegusis said. "I was practicing a new trick and I guess I-- oh...my gosh....oh, my gosh...ohmygoshohmygoshohmygoshohmygosh!"

How many bumps and bruises am I going to have to endure today? Soarin rubbed his head before looking at the clumsy pegusis that had just hit him. Her wide, round magenta eyes were locked on him with both her hooves over her mouth as if she was in a state of shock. She looked familiar to him, but he couldn't quite place the name and location where he had met her before; he felt stupid for not being able to remember her with more clarity as a rainbow colored-mane wasn't exactly a dominant genetic trait among ponies. "I hope this doesn't come off as rude, but do I know you?"

The cerulean mare's iridescent mane bobbed up and down as her head rattled in an enthusiastic nod. "You danced with me at the royal wedding. I also hung out with you after the young flyers competition. Raindbow Dash, remember? The totally wickedly-awesome incredibly cool sonic rainbooming badass?"

Now Soarin recognized her; cockiness of that level was incredibly rare. "Ah! Dashie, good to see you!"

"So, is it true, then? You're going to be the instructor for the seniors this semester? There were some rumors flying around the academy the whole morning that Rapidfire was going to be the seniors' instructor, but I had a gut feeling it would be you." Rainbow Dash asked with her eyes practically overflowing with excitement.

"That's right, Dashie. I hope you brought your A game if you're one of my students. I have already put together a few lesson plans that will prove to be harsh, but they will be effective in whipping you all into Wonderbolt material. You can argue with me over the my methods,  but you can't argue with the results they have produced."

"Yeah, I already know all about that," The rainbow-maned mare said with a dismissive wave. "You used to be a drill instructor. Whatever. I'm TOTALLY ready to take whatever you dish out at me! The only thing I'm really worried about is if anyone will be able to keep up with me."

"How did you know I was a drill instructor? I don't believe I've told you that."

"Are you kidding? I know EVERYTHING about you! I'm, like, your BIGGEST fan! I know everything there is to know about all of you guys. I even know things about the Wonderbolts that not even YOU know yet, Like, for instance, your future captain... SPOILERS: It's totally going to be me!"

Soarin cocked his eyebrow and tilted his head in a quizzical smirk. "You sure seem confident,  Dashie."

"Heh, what can I say?" Rainbow Dash ran her hoof through her hair with a cocky grin. "I'm kind of a big deal, in case you hadn't heard yet."

Soarin began to wonder how in the world the weight of this mare's ego didn't weigh her to the ground when another pegusis suddenly came in from out of nowhere. He rudely wedged himself in between Soarin and Rainbow Dash with his hooves on his flanks as if he hadn't even noticed him.

"Dashie, what's up? It's been a while. I hope you're ready for me to mop the clouds with you, because I've been training. Your ass will be mine this time around!"

"It's funny you should mention my ass, Thunderlane." Rainbow Dash chuckled. "There will be a lot of opportunities for you to stare at it when we race this year. In a way, I kind of envy you."

The ashen grey pegusis scoffed. "Don't flatter yourself. I'd rather be staring at Spitfire's. Man, I can't believe she's not our instructor this year; I'm going to miss that sweet little ass of hers. She's so hot when she raises her voice. I sometimes found myself messing up on purpose just to get her to yell at me, even though it took every ounce of concentration I had to keep my wings down."

"Let's refrain from talking about the captain in such a disrespectful way," Soarin put in with his eyes narrowed, realizing he was liking this Thunderlane less and less with every sentence he uttered. "She'd unscrew your head and shit down your neck if she heard you talking about her like that, and I just might do the same."

The grey pegusis turned about to face Soarin with an insufferable, condescending sneer on his face. "Well, look what we got, a white knight," he said before shoving him back. "Piss off, newbie. This part of the courtyard is for the senior members."

"Thunderlane, maybe you shouldn't put your hooves on him..." Rainbow Dash cautioned.

"What's he gonna do about it?" Thunderlane scoffed at her before turning back to Soarin, who's mood was now less than fair from a combination of missing out on breakfast and the grey stallion's utter display of insolence. "Oh, knock it off with the thousand yard stare, tough guy. I've seen it all before - you're not intimidating anyone. And do you think you're some kind of badass flying around with your little Air Corps jacket and dog tags? I'm going to bet you bought em at a surplus store." Thunderlane reached out and ripped the tags from around Soarin's neck, snapping the clasp from which they hanged. "Tell you what: I'm feeling generous today. You're new, so I just might decide not to kick your ass for speaking out of line when a senior is present, mister..." He held the tags with Soarin's name engraved across them to his face and his ashen grey mug quickly turned ghostly white.

Soarin's eyes narrowed. Never once in his career as a drill instructor had he ever allowed a recruit to disrespect him, and he would be damned if he was about to let this pissant cadet get away with it now. His drill instructor instincts clawed and clamored from within until they were ready burst forth.

Soarin ever so delicately took Thunderlane by the collar and pulled him uncomfortably close, to the point where the grey pegusis could feel his hot breath on his face. "Would you like to know another reason why you shouldn't try to kick my ass, cadet?"

Thunderlane just continued to stare back at him dumbly.

"I see you're too Celestia damned stupid for your oratory functions to operate while you're pissing on yourself, so I'll just go ahead and break it down for you, if that's okay with you, of course."

Thunderlane slowly nodded.

There was an eerie silence, like the calm before the storm. The quite before the epic war.

"Because my hoof will end up so far up your ass, your breath will smell like glue for the rest of your natural-born life!" His powerful and  resounding roar of a voice was loud enough to capture the attention of all the pegusi in the academy's yard below. Even a few civilian pegusi flying over head stopped dead in their wings to observe the situation.  "I will tear you limb-from-limb and mail your parts back to your family piece-by-piece to avoid the additional shipping charge of a bulk package! Your wings, your legs, your head, and all of your organs! The only piece of you your family will not be receiving will be your ass! I'll mount it to a plaque and hang it above my desk in my office so I can continue to give it a thorough kicking when ever the mood should suit me! And if you ever talk about my captain again I will gouge out your eyes and skull fuck you, then I'll drag your ass to Spitfire so she can have a turn!"

The ashen grey pegusis' eyes widened as he whimpered and ducked his head in between his shoulders like a frightened turtle.

Soarin shoved him back and held his hooves out to him. "Now, my tags, if you'd be so kind?"

With wide eyes and chattering teeth the cadet nodded and held the Master Sergeant's tags out with a shaking hoof.

Soarin snatched his tags from Thunderlane with a quick swipe and inspected the chain. Once he was satisfied that the clasp was not damaged, he turned his scowl back at the insolent pegasus in front of him. "Lucky you, they're not damaged. You got anything else to say to me, tough guy?"

Thunderlane swallowed nervously before he answered. "Words cannot express how sorry I am for— I-I didn't know. I was not able to recognize you without your flight suit, sir! P-please don't tell the captain!"

"Get out of my face. Get in formation. And wait. If I find that you've been bullying any of the new students, I will bully you right back."

Soarin watched as the humbled stallion turned and made his way toward the formation line on the court yard below with a chastened frown.

"I tried to warn him," Rainbow Dash shrugged. "Pay him no mind, sir. He's thinks he's the top dog of the academy since he made senior. I'm not sure why he tried to act like that in front of me since my scores are so much higher than his."

"Too bad for him. I'm the alpha male of this pack of dogs now," Soarin replied while glowering down at the retreating pegusis. "He just went from top dog to bitch in ten seconds flat."

"Good one," Rainbow Dash chuckled in amusement.

Soarin shrugged off Rainbow Dash's compliment. His irate outburst just put him in drill instructor mode. He decided that it was time to start earning his pay before looking to Rainbow Dash with a serious frown. "Dashie, would you mind rounding up the second years for me? I have yet to familiarize myself with my cadets. Spitfire was supposed to introduce me to them, but I showed up late, and she's got her own company to deal with.

"Yes sir!" Rainbow Dash replied with an eager salute before zipping away with a rainbow blur following in her wake.

Soarin descended toward the formation line where Thunder lane awaited him as he watched Rainbow Dash gather his cadets from all around the campus grounds. It wasn't long before she returned to him with a line of young pegusi of all shapes and colors following behind her. "Outstanding, Rainbow Dash! Quick and responsive; Very efficient!"

"Quick and efficient is what I do best, sir," The cocky mare replied proudly as she took her position next to the grey stallion in the center of the line.

"Teacher's pet," Soarin could hear Thunderlane whisper to her. "Better to be his pet than his bitch," Rainbow Dash replied, not even bothering to lower her voice.

It took every ounce of willpower in Soarin's body to keep himself from laughing out loud. Her wits are just as quick as her wings, Soarin thought with an amused grin.

Now then, how do I go about this? Spitfire was supposed to show me the ropes, but I ended up being late. I've trained thousands of soldiers, but these are cadets. What to do...? Soarin watched as his cadets all stood in formation, staring at him in awkward silence. Guess I'll just do this the only way I know how...

The students of the academy remained attentive as Soarin calmly adjusted his shades. The metallic chime of his aluminum dog tags clanking against his chest was the only sound that could be heard as he slowly paced up and down the formation line. His eyes meticulously scanned each of them from head to hoof from behind his dark lenses, scrutinizing each of them. When he made his way to the end of the line, he turned and paced toward the front while he opened with his introductory lecture he had written and recited for the recruits back at his old training camp.

"Over a thousand years ago, Princess Celestia came to the warrior race. The pegusi. And she said unto them: 'I wish to build a nation in which the three Equine races shall be unified. Give to me your sons and daughters, and I shall make them the backbone of my military, so as to preserve our way of life and protect my people. In return, I offer you the air space over my kingdom, in which you may build your cities and join your economy with mine. I will equip your soldiers with the weapons and armor of the likes you have never seen, forged from my most skilled artisans and smiths.' And the pegusi complied. Our princess now had herself a military that was and still is keen of wit, and fleet of wing, ready to defend her and her nation at all costs. That was the day the Air Corps was born, and from the corps, the Wonderbolts. Every Pegusis is a natural born soldier, but one out every thousand of those soldiers is a true warrior - and one out of every thousand of those true warriors is a Wonderbolt, and only the very BEST of their lot will actually become one. That is who I am looking for! Do I make myself clear?"

"Sir," Soarin's company responded.

The Master Sergeant stopped dead in his tracks, surprised that these second years had not been taught the the proper way to respond when being addressed by an instructor. "Sir? Sir what? What does that even mean? Are you making an observation that I am a sir? I'm afraid your response is confusing me. From now on when I address you you will comply with yes sir, or no sir. I happen to be a little hard of hearing, so you'd better say it loud enough for me to hear you!"

"Yes sir!"

"Bull shit, I can't hear you! You can do better than that!"

"Yes sir!" The cadets yelled powerfully.

"Outstanding!" Soarin replied with a sharp nod. "For those of you who are not aware, my name is Soarin: Vice captain of the Wonderbolts, and Master Sergeant in Celestia's Royal Air Corps. One of you has already made the mistake of confusing me for a first year, and I would hate for that to happen again, eh Thunderlane?"

Thunderlane rolled his eyes and shook his head with a chagrined frown as hushed cackles broke out in the group around him.

Soarin loudly cleared his throat, bringing the mocking laughter at the ashen grey stallion to an abrupt halt. "As I was saying," he continued, "I started my military career in the airborne infantry. When I made sergeant and my reenlistment papers were signed, my MOS was changed to drill instructor. It was not long after that when Spitfire had taken notice of me and invited me to try out for the squad of the greatest flyers in all of Equestria, neigh, the world. I took to the tryouts with a group of others just like you. They were fast, but I was faster. I had the good fortune to have spent the last few years in the infantry; it kept me in shape. The training and conditioning I had received while I was in the infantry was what made me stand out from the others. Spitfire noticed that I was the best of them. She singled me out and challenged me to a race, and after beating my ass like a looter in a riot, she welcomed me aboard - and all of that has lead me up to this point. It is now MY turn to decide who among you will be a Wonderbolt. Who among you will make the cut? Will any of you make the cut? Time will tell. You can give me all the bravado you want, but in the end, your performance will be what determines your future. Have I made my point perfectly clear?"

"Yes sir!"

Soarin smiled and turned away from them. "Good. Now that the introductions and opening statements are out of the way, what say we begin the day with some light PT? I'm thinking eight laps around the cloud course should get the blood pumping."

"You call that light PT?" An unknown cadet groused as the others groaned complainingly. "Spitfire never made us do that!"

"Who the fuck said that?!" Soarin sharply whipped around to face them. "There will be no whining! No complaining! No bitching! From

now on any complaints shall be taken as a request for additional PT! I'm going to tell you all the golden rule right now. The one commandment: Do not fuck with me! As long as that one golden rule is acknowledged, we'll all get along great. Hell, we'll be skipping in the clouds while shitting rainbows. We'll be singing "oh, what a beautiful morning" out of our asses. We'll need the mirthful smiles surgically removed from our faces. But if you fuck with me, you will know misery beyond boarders that you even knew existed! So, how 'bout it? Does anyone feel like complaining?" The Master Sergeant watched the seniors silently trade perturbed expressions with each other.

"No one, huh? Well, alright. Let's go. Let's see who can keep up with me." Soarin turned again and spread his wings. "Oh, and by the way - whoever finishes last will have the privilege of flying an additional lap, so let's try not to lag too far behind."

Cutie Mark Trap Setters

It had taken some time, patience, and plenty of profane, vulgarity laden threats and pep talks, but Soarin was finally getting his students up to snuff with his standards. He was discouraged at first as they were seniors and didn't even know basic drill commands, but by the time the first day at the academy was over, the Master Sergeant had his soldiers singing old Air Corps cadences while flying in a tightly-formed and well-synchronized flying V as they traveled back to the academy from their flying route.

Dinkleberg, Dinkleberg, the bane of my life

He burned my house down, then he fucked my wife

I dragged him out his home to shoot him dead

He looked up at me and this is what he said

Howdy there, neighbor, you're a sight to see

So nice you'd stop by to kill me

Your gun seems empty, but hey, that's fine.

I've got my gun on me, you can borrow mine.

I took his gun and I aimed for the head

Pulled that trigger and that bastard was dead

I got no one to blame, and I hated that the most

So he came back just so I could blame his ghost

Oh, Dinkleberg. Dinkleberg.

Fuck that guy. Fuck that guy

In his ear. In his ear.

In his eye. In his eye.

"Alright, ladies," Soarin said. "This concludes another episode of sing along with Soarin. We're over the academy grounds now. company halt!"

Soarin, who was at the directing point of the flying V stopped instantly while the others flew passed him until the last two members were lined symmetrical with his position. They then stopped, then neatly broke the V at the two opposite ends and neatly formed a hovering formation line before they all descended to the ground and landed soundlessly to await further instructions.

"Good form," Soarin critiqued with a nod. "I have to admit that I had my doubts about you all this morning, but you have all learned quickly and efficiently the proper military etiquette you will need to become Wonderbolts, but don't pat yourselves on the back just yet. This is only the tip of the iceberg. Tomorrow we are going to start the real training. Make sure to consume plenty of carbs for breakfast - you'll need every ounce of energy for what I have planned for you. You will all meet back for formation at 0900 hours. Tardiness will not be tolerated, do I make myself clear?"

"Yes sir!" His company replied resoundingly.

Soarin clicked his front hooves together and stood strait at attention. "Salute!"

With one sharp and synchronized motion, everyone in the line brought their hooves up near the edges of their eye brows.

Soarin nodded approvingly before returning their salute. "Dismissed!"

The cadets all sighed and relaxed their postures before numerous indistinct conversations broke out among them. A few of them made their way to the dorms while some of them went about with their business with other activities or plans they had for the remainder of the afternoon. Whatever they did after academy hours was none of the Master Sergeant's business. As long as they were all in their dorms before curfew he could care less.

Soarin performed a quick, one hundred and eighty degree turn on his hooves and made his way toward the exit of the academy grounds. His acerbic drill instructor persona slowly dimmed out like a dwindling flame as he was now able to relax and let his mind wander about more pleasant things. The mental image of that attractive mare holding that steaming hot pie out to him was all he needed to reinvigorate himself. His brisk trot accelerated to a rapid gallop until he had made his way to the edge of one of Cloudsdale's dropping points. He kicked off the ground with his hind legs and dove head and hooves first from the cloudy platform while keeping his wings tucked in. Soarin closed his eyes, relaxed every muscle in his body, and enjoyed the therapeutic sensation of falling at terminal velocity with the soothing sound of the rushing wind all around him. Any lingering stress he felt from his day was suddenly released with a deep, relaxing zen-like breath as the icy air whipped his mane and tail.

The plummeting stallion opened his eyes upon breaching the sprawling layer of overcast beneath the city, and he could now see the fading, orange glow of the sun dipping below the mountainous terrain in the distance. He looked to the ground below him and saw the spherical blurs from candle-lit street lamps, which traced brilliant red and amber-colored flickering dots throughout the roads of the charming little hamlet.

This little town, Soarin thought, has a charm to it that you just don't see in the large neon-lit metropolitans that housed the stadiums and arenas he had performed in. "I'm beginning to see why some would prefer small town-living over the hustle and bustle of those overpopulated concrete jungles," Soarin soliloquized as he appreciated the serene atmosphere. He spread his wings and slowed his rapid descent toward the expanding town until he landed softly and soundlessly in the center of a dirt road. As he looked around for someone to ask directions from, a familiar electronic noise captured his attention. He turned and noticed a structure near him that was lined on the outside with arcade cabinets, one of which seemed to be in use by a child sitting on a stool. He quickly recognized the game the young colt was playing by it's sound. It was a game that he was a frequent patron of when he himself was a colt.

"I'm impressed," said Soarin to the boy as he approached him. "Most of the young ones don't bother with these old games. They always seem to have their muzzles buried in the shooters with those fancy 'realistic' graphics."

"Not really a big fan of shooters," the colt responded in a nasally voice without taking his eyes from the screen. "I like the new games, but these old games are better. They're difficult to master; you actually feel like you've accomplished something upon beating them. Plus, I think eight bit music is catchy - it helps me focus."

"Is that right?" Soarin asked as he studied the child's game play style, quickly taking notice of the boy's quick and fluid platforming skills. "Mega Mare two, huh? You know, this was my favorite game when I was around your age. I hope you acquired the bubblegun on Aquamare's stage."

"The bubblegun?" The colt scoffed. "That's the most useless weapon in the game."

"You won't be thinking that in a minute. You're on the last stage, right?"

The kid continued on with the conversation between his frustrated grunts, the furious mashing of buttons, and the up beat eight bit music. "Yeah, I think. I have never beaten it, so I can't really be sure. I always end up making my way to this stage, but that freaking alien at the end always kills me. My mom says she beat this game blindfolded when she was my age, but I'm starting to think that's a lie. This game is next to impossible. I actually had an easier time on my first play through of Changeling's Souls."

"He can't be beaten without the bubblgun," Soarin insisted.

"Mister, quit trolling me," replied the skeptical colt.

"What does that even mean? I'm not 'trolling' you. Just use the bubblegun on him and you'll see."

"I'm not about to take advice from some middle-aged guy I don't even know. I'm on my last bit here, and if I have to go another night with my mom gloating over me that she's beaten this game blind folded I seriously don't know what I'll do. Now go away and let me focus."

"Middle-aged? Ouch..." Soarin grimaced at that comment. "Kid, I'm a young, spry twenty something, okay? I'm not middle-aged. And your mom sounds strange."

"Whatever!" The colt waved his hoof dismissively. "Look, I'm on the last guy and I need to focus. Did you need something?"

"I just want to know where stirrup street is. And hurry it up, I'm losing daylight."

"Stirrup Street? Just follow the dirt road behind us going east and it will be the second road on you left. If you turn right it turns into Rein Road."

"Head east, then turn left on the second road," Soarin confirmed. "Got it. Thanks, kid." The adolescent didn't respond. He only bit down on his lower lip and narrowed his eyes in concentration while the glow from the arcade screen lit his facial features as if it were a hypnotizing light. The focus in his amber-colored eyes intensified as there seemed to be nothing else that existed in his world but him and the game. As ornery and stubborn as this child was, Soarin decided that he liked him. He smiled and fished a bit out of his coat pocket, then set it down on the edge of the cabinet's screen.

"Kid, I know you don't know me, and you probably think I'm just some square 'middle-aged' stallion, but trust me, use the bubblegun on the alien. If you get killed in doing so, the next continue is on me." The colt once again made no response. It was as if the game had completely entranced him.

Soarin shrugged, turned, and made his way down the road toward the East, passing the first road and turned left on the second. His stroll had finally lead him to a vacant wooden stand, behind which stood barrels of fresh apples and a glass case stocked with piping hot baked goods. He looked around and was surprised to find that the stand was completely unattended.

"Surely, that girl has more common sense than to just leave all of this unattended..."  Soarin noticed a coffee can at the edge of the counter. He tipped it and noticed that it had a substantial amount of money inside. "Who just leaves their business's revenue out on display like this?"

"Gotcha!" A triumphant voice from behind the stand suddenly yelled.

Soarin jumped back in surprise when two young fillies, a tawny-colored pegusis, and an ivory unicorn jumped onto opposite edges of the counter top then leaped down to the ground to flank him. He looked back and noticed another filly directly behind him. This one was a little red-headed earth pony.

"You look mighty surprised, mister," The earth pony said.

"Yeah," the unicorn added. "You almost look scared."

"You've been caught in the act," chuckled the pegusis.

Soarin cocked an eyebrow. "Uh... And I would have gotten away with it if it weren't for you... meddling fillies?"

"You're darn right, we did!" The three fillies exclaimed in unison.

"Hand over all the bits you took from mah sister's tin!" Demanded the redhead with an accusing hoof pointed at the stallion. "Or

we're gonna hand you over to the authorities right after we kick yer butt! Sweetie Belle, get the tape recorder."

"It's already on," the unicorn responded.

"Your sister?" Soarin asked. "Is Applejack your sister?"

"We're asking the questions!" The pegusis barked. "We want a recorded confession, apology, and oath that you will never steal

again, but you will hand over the stolen money first. Speak clearly so the recorder can hear you!"

Soarin looked back and noted the small recording device on the counter. "What are you three suppose to be?"

"We are the cutie mark private investigators!" Said the ivory unicorn.

"We're investigating a string of mysterious thefts, if you must know." The red-headed filly put in. "Mah sister's tin has been coming up light almost every day for the passed few weeks. We think some sticky-hooved thief is snatching money from the tin while her back is turned with customers. And since we saw you messin' around with her money, that makes you the prime suspect."

"Did you say 'cutie mark private investigators'?" Soarin asked. "None of you seem to even have your cutie marks yet."

"That's all about to change," The unicorn replied. "Once we get you to confess we'll be professional private investigators. I guess it was only a matter of time before you'd be caught."

"I didn't come here to steal anything, I just wanted to see Applejack and get my pie she made for me."

"Oh, why didn't you say so?" Asked the red head. "Girls, he ain't the thief. Mah sister told me he was comin'."

"But that was our best ambush yet!" The ivory unicorn groaned as she kicked the dirt.

"Ah know, Ah know, we'll get the thief next time, girls." The red head stated as she made her way behind the counter. She returned to Soarin with a metal box. "Mah name is Apple Bloom, by the way. Over there is Sweetie Belle and Scootaloo."

"Nice to meet you," Soarin said. "Is my pie in this box?"

Apple Bloom nodded. "Mah sister told me to give it to you, just in case you get here before she gets back. She's keeping it in this oven box to keep it fresh for ya."

The filly unlatched the clasp from the box with a sharp metallic click and lifted the lid. Tendrils of steam lazily wafted from the pastry within the container's confines and Soarin was instantly captivated by its sweet aroma. Something about this pie seemed different to him: There were several unidentifiable flavors intermingled with the cinnamon and the apple that enhanced its scent. The hungry stallion began to salivate as he attempted to restrain himself.

"Wow," Apple Bloom said, "This ain't just any apple pie: This is mah sister's award-winning sweet and spicy apple butter scotch pecan pie." The red-headed filly placed her face in the path of the steam and took in a generous whiff of the sweet pastry. "Mmmm-mmm. She ain't made one of these in a long time. She must have went through a lot of trouble to obtain all the ingredients to make this. Ah think ah even detect a hint of vanilla in the crust; she really went all out for you, mister!"

"H-how much?" Soarin stammered while his body went into tremors, his pie lust further intensified by Apple Bloom's tantalizing description.

"She told me not to charge ya," Apple Bloom informed. "Go ahead and dig in. Ah think we got a few plastic forks and knives in the stand if ya don't want to wait until you get home to—"

Soarin didn't wait for her to finish her sentence. As soon as he heard all he needed to hear, he dove headfirst in the metal box and began his ravenous assault. Flecks of apple pie gore spattered and smeared the insides of the of the container as he tore the flaky flesh away from its top with one bite. The three fillies watched him in a combination of amazement and horror.

"Look at him go..." Sweetie Belle said.

"Poor thing never stood a chance..." Scootaloo added.

Soarin could hear them, but he paid them no mind. He continued to work his taste buds around the bits of apple, savoring the sweet butter scotch flavor within the hot, gooey filling as the ground pecans seemed to add a crunchy and pleasurable texture to the pie's innards that the stallion found greatly to his liking. He stopped, lifted his head from the box, and pulled in a deep breath before exhaling a pluming dioxide and steam-addled breath into the cold air before slamming himself headfirst back into the iron container to finish what was left of the pastry.

"I feel like we're watching something we really shouldn't be watching," commented a thoroughly disturbed Sweetie Belle.

Scootaloo's eyelid twitched. "Rainbow Dash once described to me the feeling one gets when they see something that cannot be unseen. This is one of those things."

Apple Bloom turned her horrified little eyes from the scene and faced her fellow crusaders with a traumatized pout in her face. "Hey, girls, do y'all remember that movie we saw where the mare was tied down to the table and the zombies came and—"

"We remember!" Sweetie Belle and Scootaloo both exclaimed as they huddled together.

Soarin lifted his pie-smeared faced from the box, and with his craving sated, he fell over on the ground and enjoyed the state of euphoria he was now in. Everything around him seemed more vivid, more lively than before. Colors were brighter, and he could swear that he could see sounds and hear sights. "That girl is absolutely beautiful. If I could use some kind of culmination of magic and science to take the amazing taste of that pie and transfer it into an image of something that equally stimulates the eyes as it did the tongue, the image would be that of your sister. That emerald-eyed minx! That golden-haired goddess!"

Sweetie Belle was the first to speak in concern for the stallion's queer behavior. "Mister, are you feeling—"

"SSSHHHHH!" Soarin cut her off with sharp shush with his hoof placed over his mouth. "Piiiieeeeee!" He whispered.

The ivory filly cocked her head sideways with a perplexed look about her. "Okay, then?"

The pie-intoxicated stallion relaxed until his irises shrank back to their normal size, and the world slowly but surely reverted back into its normal, boring and drab self. "Damn good pie," he whispered before jumping back up to his hooves. "I really wish Applejack could have been here to give it to me. Where is she right now, and when is she coming back?"

"She's had to pick up a cousin of ours from Appaloosa at the train station, and she placed me in charge of the stand until she gets back." The red head stroked her chin with a pensive hoof. "The way you was talkin' about mah sister makes it sound like ya like her."

Soarin gave her an absent-minded nod. "I do. Why do you think I want to see her?"

"Oh, so does that mean yer gonna ask her out?" Apple Bloom asked.

"Probably not. I think she's cute, and she's fun to be around, but I have a demanding job which requires me to travel a lot. All I can really do is make the most of my time while I'm here and see her whenever my schedule allows me the opportunity."

"Are you gonna at least tell her ya like her?" The filly persisted.

Soarin had to think about that one for a moment. "Probably not. What would be the point? By the time Winter has passed, I'll be back on the road and I'd have to leave her behind."

"But that sounds so sad and lonely!" Sweetie Belle lamented sympathetically. "What is it you do for a living that keeps you from having a home?"

"I'm a Wonderbolt." Soarin blurted before clapping a hoof over his mouth.

"A Wonderbolt?!" The crusaders cried in unison.

What the fuck did I just do?! Feeling like an asshole, Soarin face-hooved with a fury that nearly knocked himself unconscious. He looked up and noticed the little orange pegusus approaching him. All he could do was back away from her while pleading with her to keep her voice down. "Hey kid, keep it down. Look, I lied, alright? It was a joke. Just a stupid joke."

"I don't think so." Scootaloo approached him with a knowing grin on her face. "I thought you looked familiar. I was thinking it for a while, but now I'm sure of it! Even without your flight suit your figure tends to stand out from the others, and the metro way you style your mane, and that psychedelic state of ecstasy you fall into after eating a pie... You're Soarin, aren't you? Rainbow Dash has, like, a billion pictures of you all over her room. Pictures of you in and out of your flight suit, so I know what you look like without it. She has even saved every sports and military related magazine you've been on the cover of or were talked about in. I cant believe it's actually you!"

"My hair is metro?"

"So he really IS a Wonderbolt, then?" Apple Bloom asked with wide, amazed eyes that constantly shifted back and forth from Soarin to Scootaloo.

"Definitely!" Scootaloo looked back and confirmed with a confident nod. "Rainbow Dash was all crazy with excitement before she left for the academy in Cloudsdale this morning. She said that there had been some rumors circulating that Soarin would be the senior instructor, and here you are. Crusaders, do you all know what this means?"

"What?" Apple Bloom asked.

Sweetie Belle and Scootaloo both rushed to their flummoxed friend and yelled, "Soarin of the Wonderbolts has a crush on your sister!"

"Ladies, please keep your voices down!" The flustered Wonderbolt pleaded while he desperately thought of a way to liberate himself from the situation in which he now found himself. He tried to think of a lie that would be convincing enough, but he was a terrible liar, and nothing was coming to mind. He thought of maybe taking to the sky and never returning to Ponyville, but he might never see Applejack again. Soarin continued to mull over his evacuation plan while the three fillies excitedly conversed with each other over the possibility of him being a possible candidate for Apple Bloom's brother in law when a familiar voice made him jump.

"Who's got a crush on me, now?"

Soarin's head whipped around, and standing before him was that golden goddess of his. "Hey, soldierboy!" She said with an enthusiastic and energetic smile. "Ah was afraid Ah was gonna miss ya today. Ah see ya liked mah pie." She said with a big smile while pointing to Soarin's pie-smeared face.

Oh Celestia, fuck me...

"You alright, sugarcube? Yer lookin' like yer seein' ghost riders in the sky..."

"Y-yeah, I'm fine..." All was silent for a brief moment. Soarin weighed his options at that point. He knew the three loud-mouthed fillies were going to blow his cover. He knew they would most likely feel it necessary to tell the whole town about him. He once again tried to come up with a lie to counter whatever they might say, but he had nothing.

looks like retreating like a coward is my only course of action.

Before he spread his wings he stopped to look mournfully upon his goddess one more time to thank her for the pie, but she caught him off his guard when he turned and saw her standing so close to him that he could practically feel her breath. She reached out and wiped some of the residual pie filling from the stallions face, and ever so delicately lapped it up with her tongue.

The provocative and stimulating image was all too much for the Wonderbolt to bare. His wings shot out erect from his sides like switch blades and remained stiff as petrified wood, paralyzing them and temporarily disabling him from taking flight.

Stupid sexy Applejack!

"Sis!" Applebloom yelled. "Yer never gonna believe—mmfff"

Soarin, with no idea of what to do, seized the little filly and placed his hoof over her mouth to silence her. The subdued filly fidgeted and managed to pull her mouth away from Soarin's hoof. "What's wrong with you, Soarin?" She said in a hushed tone. "Don't ya like mah sister? Just tell her ya like her. It'd be the coolest thing in the world to have a Wonderbolt as a brother in law!"

"Kid, it's not as easy as all that," Soarin answered.

"What are ya doin' to mah sister?" Applejack interjected.

"Nothing!" Soarin insisted. "I just uh—"

"That girl is absolutely beautiful. If I could use some kind of culmination of magic and science to take the amazing taste of that pie and transfer it into an image that equally stimulates the eyes as it did the tongue, the image would be that of your sister. That emerald-eyed minx! That golden-haired goddess! Damn good pie. I really wish Applejack could have been here to give it to me. Where is she right now, and when is she coming back?"

Soarin and Applejack stared so silently at one another that each could swear they could hear the other's heart beating.

"Nice one, Sweetie Belle!" Apple Bloom cheered before liberating herself from the befuddled stallion's grip and scurrying to meet her friends near the stand.

When the shocked stallion looked at them, he noticed Sweetie Belle holding in her hooves the tape recorder she intended to use to record their impromptu interrogation in regards to Applejack's stolen money. "How's that for a confession?" She said with an insufferable giggle before Apple Bloom and Scootaloo hoof bumped each other.

With a dry throat the Wonderbolt turned his head to the blonde mare in front of him.

"Th-that tape... It was doctored, right?" She asked in a quivering voice.

"Nope," answered Apple Bloom, grabbing Soarin and Applejack's attention. "He said that not five minutes ago, sis. He likes ya. Guess y'all better hurry it up and get to makin' a little niece or nephew for me to play with."

"Applebloom!" The blonde mare cried out in a mortified tone before pulling the brim of her hat down over her glowing red face.

Soarin shifted his glance back to Applejack, who kept her face hidden away from him. He turned his head to the three little spectators as their eyes beamed wide with anticipation.

You... Little... Shits...