After getting up late, Rainbow Dash had wished me farewell and soared off into the brilliant mid morning sun. She spent a good deal of her morning training for an upcoming Wonder Bolts tryout to be held the following month. She practiced the Buccaneer Blaze, the Fantastic Filly Flash, and a couple more that she had yet to name. She worked up quite a sweat with her practice, and it glistened in the sunlight.
She stopped practice around midday, grabbing a quick lunch. She rested on a cloud in the lazy afternoon sun, chewing on her sandwich as she watched the town below go about its business. Finishing her sandwich, she rolled onto her back, shifting her attention to the errant small clouds drifting across the sky. It looked like the cloud factory had some time before it would be ready for the night's storm, so she let herself doze off, cradled by the cloud's soft cotton.
She was woken by Pinkie Pie passing by, and they spent some time catching up and shooting the breeze. Dash had to let Pinkie know that she had weather duty tonight, so she wouldn't be able to go pranking. It did not stop them, though, from devising a few clever schemes to be carried out at a later date. Having kept an eye on the sun and sky, Dash noticed it was time to go off and assemble the evening's thunder storm. She said her goodbyes to Pinkie, then took off at top speed to the cloud factory.
It was busy and hectic work. Rainbow had to coordinate dozens of Pegasi and half a dozen cloud machine crews, and not all of the Pegasi or crews entirely listened. By the skin of her teeth, she kept the crew from messing up the storm beyond repair. The repairs, though, would take a highly skilled hoof that only Rainbow Dash could provide. She lowered her flight goggles and set to work, getting the thunderheads properly repositioned and the gaps in the cloud cover filled. Eventually, everything was to her satisfaction. The storm work had partially washed her from earlier, but the lightning so close at hoof had left the smell of ozone clinging to her mane and tail. With the thunderstorm fully underway, she flew home.
Getting back to the smell of cooking pasta, her favorite dinner at the end of a long day, she followed her nose into the kitchen to find me hard at work putting the finishing touches on the sauce and garlic bread. She asked what she could do to help, but I told her that I was essentially done; all that was left to do was serve and I was not going to let her do that. This was my treat to her, after all.
I had set up the table in the dining room with our best table cloth and place settings. A candle stood lit in the middle of the table flanked by two wine glasses, and a bottle of her favorite white zinfandel sat in an ice bucket nearby. As we entered the dining room, I put a classical violin piece on the turntable. She made her way over to the table, and I pulled her chair back from the table for her.
“You don't have to do that for me,” she said, blushing slightly.
“It is my pleasure, Miss Dash,” I replied with a shallow bow.
I served up the dinner with all the chivalrous grace I could muster. I ignored her bluster that she didn't need all this “girly stuff”, her bashful smile betrayed her true feelings. I knew she liked being treated like a Princess if it was just us, when there was no one to impress. She had already made a lasting impression on me.
Dinner proceeded marvelously. My cooking was, if not the best, well executed and nothing was botched. Rainbow humored me, and lauded it with compliments, even though I knew full well it wasn't my absolute best work. We compared notes about our days, commiserating each others defeats and celebrating each others victories. We talked about her newest trick, and I offered what pointers I could and all the encouragement under the sun. I had learned early on that Dash was shaken fairly easily, but could do anything if she had the support of a loyal friend.
Some time later we finished the bottle of wine, and I bussed the table. Or tried to, Rainbow insisted on helping even though I had made it clear that tonight was my treat to her. I didn't mind, it meant I got to spend more time with the mare I was crazy about. We washed together, I scraped and scrubbed and she dried and stored. Every time I passed a dish to her, she made a point of brushing her hoof against me. I almost didn't want to let go of them, just to feel her touch a little longer.
After the dishes were cleaned and the leftovers tucked away in the fridge, we retired to the living room. I lit a fire in the fireplace, and we both sat on the rug in front of it. We watched the fire crackle, felt its relaxing warmth. Outside, the storm raged futilely against the roof and windows, unable to touch us in the safety of each others arms. With my arms wrapped around her, my face was full of her polychromatic mane. Every breath I took brought the light scent of sweat and ozone. The fragrance fit her perfectly, it was the fragrance of a talented, hard working mare and one I had come to recognize and love as hers.
As the fire burned lower and the rain hammered down its steady pattern, I felt Rainbow's breathing grow deep and slow; she had fallen asleep in my embrace. I lay content, watching the fire burn down, feeling the rise and fall of Rainbow's chest. Every breath brought her smell, and reassured me of her presence even as I closed my eyes.
Sleep found me shortly thereafter, holding my Rainbow Dash close.
