Dynamic Soarin'

by BlazzingInferno

Rating: teen
Tags: Slice of Life, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Soarin, Romance, Spitfire
Length: 2764

Soarin and Spitfire have a chance meeting at one of their old hangouts at the edge of Equestria. All’s fair in lost love and deadly racing, right?

Soarin and Spitfire dated once; it didn’t end well. On his day off he finds her at one of their old hangouts; a secluded spot on the edge of Equestria that’s perfect for tanning, talking, and the most dangerous type of racing. They’re going to settle the score, even if it kills them.

Published 2014-06-28 05:40:03 UTC
Last updated 2014-06-28 05:40:03 UTC

The Flame

Soarin couldn’t have asked for a better day off. The sun was high in the cloudless sky, the temperature was mild, and a light wind was at his back. According to every map the rocky terrain far below was called the badlands, to him it was the perfect place to get away from it all. Today it was just him and the skies; no fans, no duties, and no distractions.

He swooped over a familiar rock formation and dropped down into his favorite spot, a flat area nestled between huge boulders and a cliff’s edge. As his hooves touched the ground he took a deep breath of the dry air and listened to the howl of the wind. The valley beyond the cliff was always windy, and yet there was never so much as a breeze in this little alcove.

“Well well, look who’s here.”

His smile faded.

“What’re you doing here, Spitfire?”

“Same thing you are.”

He looked over and saw her spread out on a blanket. She’d traded her Wonderbolts uniform for a pair of sunglasses and a bottle of tanning lotion. She was almost never out of uniform, at least not in public. The sight of her glossy gold coat, fiery mane, and rippling muscles was as gorgeous as it was rare. Few ponies would ever see her like this. If only he wasn’t one of them.

“Do you really have to do that here?”

She tilted her sunglasses onto her forehead. “Do what?”

“Catch a tan in my spot.”

“Hey, last I checked this was our spot. We found it together, we share it.”

“That was back when there was an ‘us’.”

She scowled and rolled onto her stomach. “Let’s not do this again.”

He shook his head and found a patch of shade on the far side of the clearing where, thankfully, he couldn’t see her. If only he’d brought a blanket of his own, then he could take a nap or something. He’d come here to fly but now, with her around, he was stuck pretending to enjoy sitting on the rocks while his day off slipped away. Why did she have to ruin everything?

From here he could see an even less welcome sight; their old scoreboard. The overhanging boulder providing him with shade was covered in hoofwriting, and the white pebble that served as chalk was still waiting on a small outcropping. Everything was just where they’d left it the last time they’d been here. Not that they’d done much writing that time, of course.

“Can you believe the scoreboard’s still here?”

“There’s a reason they call this the badlands.”

“I still think we should make the cadets do a drill or two out here, it’d toughen them up a whole lot faster than flying laps around the academy.”

“That’d be great, right up until one of them smears their face all over the cliff wall.”

“Eh, I think the advanced cadets could handle it. I’d bet Rainbow Dash could…”

His mouth snapped shut and his eyes quickly followed. He could’ve named any other cadet and it would’ve been fine. Already he could hear her sunglasses clattering to the ground and the bottle of lotion rolling away. A moment later she was standing in front of him with clenched teeth on display.

“Don’t ever talk to me about her, not after–”

“After what? Nothing ever happened with her or anypony else and you know it!”

“You were always checking out other mares, even when I was standing next to you. Why don’t you fly back to Ponyville and ask Rainbow out right now?”

He threw up his hooves. “For the last time, I wasn’t checking her out. I never checked anypony out while we were dating. Maybe if you’d stop harping on me about it you’d understand.”

“Oh I understand perfectly: you’re the top stallion in the Wonderbolts, you can have any mare you want, and you love it.”

“All except the captain, apparently. You’re always watching other pegasi, I never gave you a hard time about it.”

“That’s called talent scouting.”

“And that’s exactly what I was doing! Just because you’re the captain doesn’t mean you’re the only pony who can spot pegasi with skills.”

“How about those cheerleaders at the Equestria games tryouts? Were you just ‘scouting’ them too?”

“Hey, that was all Fleetfoot’s fault; she kept saying ‘pose for the crowd’, ‘pose for the crowd’, ‘pose for the crowd’. So what do I do? I shoot the crowd a smile, wind up in the hospital, and you try to kick me off the team just so you can get one step closer your precious mares-only club.”

She backed him against the wall and spat words at him. “I don’t care who’s on the Wonderbolts, so long as they’ve got their eyes in the game and follow my commands.”

“So why’d you you let Rainbow Dash into the reserves? Why’d you want her on the Cloudsdale team for the Equestria games?”

“Stop talking about her! If you could’ve kept your eyes off her for one minute…”

“Oh please. You know you didn’t have anything to worry about. Besides, her ego’s even bigger than yours.”

“You’ve got us both beat there, every little thing you do is just to show off.”

“You know I’ve been gunning for a promotion, how else am I supposed to do that if I don’t impress the great Captain Spitfire?”

“And you know if I give you one it’ll look like favoritism. Fleetfoot’s been after my job for years, if I start handing out promotions to my special somepony the Earth Unicorn Pegasus Guard will be all over me.”

They glared at each other for a moment. Nothing ruined a day off like a well-worn argument. Finally he looked up at the sky. “You know what? You can have this spot and the Wonderbolts too, I’m out of here.”

“Good. Why don’t you take an extra day off and go see Rainbow Dash? Or go pick up somepony else along the way for all I care.”

“That’s not what I meant. I’ll turn in my uniform first thing in the morning.”

“Wait, you’re quitting the Wonderbolts? You can’t do that.”

“Sure I can, you’ll never have to worry about my ‘wandering gaze’ ever again, you won’t have to worry about seeing me at all.”

She stomped her hoof on the ground. “I’m not letting you quit.”

“I don’t think you can stop me.”

She glanced at their scoreboard above. “Want to bet on that? How about a little race and wager, just like old times?”

He raised an eyebrow and followed her gaze. Their old score was tied at six to six. The tie-breaker race, number thirteen, always sounded a little too unlucky, especially with such a dangerous sport. If he really was going to leave the Wonderbolts, what’d he have to loose?

“You’re on.”

The Game

Soarin watched Spitfire pace back at forth along the cliff’s edge. “All right, let’s go over the rules again, rookie.”

“Hey, don’t call me a–”

“Put a sock in it and listen up!”

He knew that tone, it was the same one that bullied new recruits into shape and sent prospective cadets home crying. She was cute when she tried to act mean.

Just below her hooves the wind howled mercilessly. “The game is called dynamic soaring, and it’s for expert flyers only. We’ll fly in and out of the high speed air to pick up speed, always in a circle, always counterclockwise. You try and flap your wings and they might get broken off. This is all about agility and precision timing; the wind gives you your speed, you have to control it. If you steer poorly or try to leave formation at the wrong time, you’re looking at a closed casket funeral. First pony to do fifty laps wins. Got that?”

He smirked. This was just like old times, all except for the make-out session that’d typically follow. “And the wager?”

“Let’s change it up; you name my terms, I’ll name yours.”

“Fine. If you win, I leave the Wonderbolts tomorrow morning. You never have to see me again.”

She walked up to him, put a hoof under his chin, and grinned. “If you win, then we forget about all the stupid stuff in the past and go on a date tonight. I guarantee it’ll be the best night of your life.”

“You sure you want to wager that?”

She nodded. “Doesn’t matter. I’m sending you back to the Cloudsdale weather team where you belong.”

They didn’t need to count to three, or even say go. For a moment they simply crouched on the edge of the cliff and, by unspoken command, dove into wind in unison.

Soarin squinted as the wind battered him. His instinct and experience were at odds here; one said bank left out of the wind, the other said hold steady and dive. Spitfire was right next to him, undoubtably fighting the same mental battle. They dove, rose, and turned in perfect formation. The sudden transition from speedy low-lying winds to the still air above strained wings and back alike. Regardless, they kept their circular flight path and dove back into the fray.

One lap, then five, then ten. Every rapid turn through the wind added to their speed, and every break into the still air hit their bodies harder. Pretty soon they’d eclipse the top glide speed of even the fastest pegasus. Pretty soon they’d be staring death in the face.

Light. Dark. Light. Dark. The windy expanses in the shadow of the cliff and the still sunlit world above went by in a blur. Soarin would’ve loved to time his laps, to know how many hundreds of wingpower he was pumping out without a single wingbeat. That didn’t matter though, all that mattered was the race.

He was going to win, he knew it. She’d slathered herself with lotion, that’d kill her aerodynamics and make for a miserable defeat. He wasn’t leaving the Wonderbolts, he was going on a date with their captain. The same captain that never saw his side of the story, the same captain that threw their relationship away out of meaningless jealousy.

Why were you ever jealous of Rainbow Dash, Spitfire? She’s fast, but she’s she’s not you, nopony else is. Why would I ever check out other mares when I’ve got you? Why couldn’t you ever see that? Why didn’t you ever see that I cared about you? All you ever cared about was which way my head was turned.

He blinked. Where was she, anyway? He couldn’t just turn around and look, not at this speed. If she wasn’t ahead of him, that meant she was behind him. A few more laps and he’d own that precious date she’d so foolishly offered up.

Why did she offer him a date, anyway? She could’ve wagered him a promotion, or even just a pat on the back. What would tonight mean? Would she really go out with him again? Did he even want her to? Sure they’d had some good times, most of them in a secluded spots like this one, but then there was the drama: promotion this, Rainbow Dash that. Why go through all of it again? Why put her through some stupid date that she didn’t even want?

Darn you, Spitfire. I guess I’m leaving after all. I hope you’re happy about it.

Light. Dark. Still air. Wind. He couldn’t just stop and call it quits, even though he wanted to. One feather out of place meant a fatal crash.

Light. Dark. He needed to break formation at just the right moment.

Wind. Still air. The window of time was less than a second wide, and getting smaller with every lap.

Then he saw her. Why was she sitting on the cliff’s edge? Maybe he’d miscounted. Had she completely lapped him without him noticing? Had he lapped her? If she pulled out early then he won by default. Was she stuck going on a date with him? He’d never convince her to back out of the wager, even if she was going to hate every second of the whole night. She’d probably hate him too, assuming she didn’t already.

Light, dark, light, dark. Too fast! It was a chance game now; tonight he either had a date with the captain of the Wonderbolts or with a mortician.

On three, Soarin. Ready? One. Two. Th–

The Winner

“Where… where am I? Who won?”

He was staring up into a brilliant white light.

“Soarin? You’re awake?” It was Spitfire’s voice.

“What happened? Where–ow!”

Simply trying to turn himself was an exercise in agony.

“Take it easy! Let me get the lights, hang on.”

The overhead lights went from blinding to a dim glow. He was laying in a bed. The small room around him was sparse and depressing in a way that only a hospital could be. Spitfire was seated in a chair on his right, and she looked terrible. Her mane was a mess and her uniform was wrinkled. She’d thrown ponies out of the academy for looking half as disheveled.

“I’m in the hospital?”

“What tipped you off, the lousy bed or the bandages?”

He glanced down at himself and frowned. His left side was covered in white cloth and medical tape. At least that explained why it hurt to move.

“So what happened?”

She smiled at shook her head. “You big blue idiot. You were in that wind for over a hundred laps. Do you know how fast you were going?”

“How fast?”

“The hay if I know. You’re lucky to be awake at all.”

“Just tell me what happened.”

She looked away. “You skimmed the cliff’s edge when you pulled out and smashed into one of the boulders. You left a whole lot of skin behind on the cliff face. You’re lucky you didn’t shear your wing off.”

He looked her up and down a second time. She looked just as bad as he felt, although thankfully she only sported one bandage on her right wing.

“Are you okay?”

She glanced down at her hurt wing and turned so he couldn’t see it. “Oh it’s nothing. I had to carry what was left of you back to civilization, I sprained a wing when I botched the landing.”

“You carried me back?”

“Of course I did.”

He bit his lip, one of the few parts of him that didn’t already hurt. “Thanks.”

“Fleetfoot’s loving this, by the way. With both of us grounded she’s running the whole show.”

“How long until we’re back up there?”

“I should be good to go by the end of the week.”

“And me?”

“The doctor said a couple months, maybe more.”

He frowned. “I guess that’ll make it easy to kick me off the Wonderbolts.”

“What’re you talking about? You won, I owe you a date.”

“I don’t want it.”

“What?”

“Just before I crashed I was trying to throw the race. I know you just wanted to bait me into the game, but you didn’t need to.”

“I wasn’t just baiting you.”

“Whatever. I don’t want a pity date that you’re not even going to like.”

She kicked the side of his bed and pain shot up his back. “Who said it’s a pity date! Soarin… I was trying to throw the race too. Why do you think I pulled out of the wind early?”

“Why would you do that?”

It was her turn to bite her lip. “Because… because I think we both want the same thing.”

“Us? A second chance?”

She nodded. “I do. We’ve got some issues, sure, but what couple doesn’t? That is if you want to try again…”

He attempted to nod and winced in pain. “I do. For the record, I never ever checked out another mare while we were dating, not even… you know who.”

“I know, I know… why does she have to be so good and so young? She’s going to have my job if she keeps it up.”

“Spitfire, it doesn’t matter. Nopony’s ever going to hold a candle to you, not in my book anyway.”

She smiled, something she hadn’t done around him in ages. “So, how about we start over?”

“What about favoritism? Talent scouting? Rainbow…”

She leaned forward and kissed him on the cheek. “We’ll figure it out.”

Author's Note

Dynamic soaring is a very real and very fast flight technique. Specialty remote control gliders have hit 498 mph.