Spitting Fire

by Creed

Rating: mature
Tags: Drama, Fleetfoot, Spike, Spitfire, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Romance
Length: 4605

After her relationship with Soarin tanks, Spitfire takes a vacation to Ponyville with her teammate Fleetfoot. What will happen? And where does Spike fit in all of this?

After falling out with Soarin, Spitfire is down in the dumps. Fortunately, she has her teammate, Fleetfoot, to help her take her mind off Soarin. However, their lives are about to get more complicated. With Soarin on the run and a vacation to Ponyville in their future, anything could happen, even falling in love with someone who isn't even a pony.

Published 2014-06-20 21:00:03 UTC
Last updated 2018-02-05 00:36:41 UTC

Bad Relations

Bad Relations

“Soarin’!” a commanding voice shouted, her voice trembling with each word. “You joke of a stallion!”

“But, Spitfire she ju-”

“She just what, Soarin’?” Spitfire questioned inquisitively. “She didn’t just climb all over you and begin chowing down on you like that!” She pointed a hoof at Soarin, her eyes full of tears. “Y-you c-cheated on me again!”

“No, I didn’t!” Soarin shouted back. He watched as she fell on her couch. “She jumped on top of me without giving me a choice!”

“Oh,” Spitfire began as she stood back up, her face in front of his. She raised her voice with every word. “And your relaxed face with your tongue lolling out means you didn't have a choice?” She pushed the stallion to the floor and towered over Soarin' with a fierce look in her eyes. “You loved,” Spitfire said, before shoving her hoof into his stomach. “every…” She jabs her hoof harder into Soarin’s chest. “...bit of it!”

Soarin could only gasp as the tense mare removes her hoof from his chest. He saw it gently hover over him, dangling over his strained throat. The few seconds that ticked and tocked gave him enough time to regain his breath. He wished he could get away, but Spitfire's fiery gaze said otherwise. As if time slowed, he watched as she slammed her hoof onto his chords. “You have anything to say?”

The air flowed once again through Soarin's lungs. He began to cough due to the sudden rush of air. His lungs still burned from the intensity of her fire. “I-I love you.”

With tears in her eyes, Spitfire gets up, points to the door, and silently commands, “Get out.”

“Spitty, I-”

“GET OUT!” she shouted with all her might. Soarin, her best friend and her stallion, exited the room with his tail caught between his legs. She ran to the door and shouted, “And don’t you ever come back!”

She entered her apartment with a broken, heavy heart. She can't take his lies no more; this is the final straw. Nothing could bring them back together. Nothing!

The mare lets out a loud, blood-curdling cry and slams the door shut with a swift, powerful kick. She quickly locks it before scurrying over to her bed. In a fit of comfort and plush is where she sobbed, and hopefully where the pain and stress would end. The dams have been broken, and the levies never stood a chance. The pain now stains the sheets on her once comfortable bed.

This is the second time she’s caught him cheating on her with another mare. The first time Spitfire caught Soarin cheating, he was taking Fleetfoot for a spin. The two were on his bed ravenously rutting like two wild animals. When she caught him, she told Fleetfoot to leave, while Soarin’ was lectured about the whole ordeal. This caused them to break up for a while, the two living in their own separate apartment rooms, never to speak to each other in loving tones ever again.

That is, until Soarin came crawling back to her, begging for them to be in a relationship again.

Spitfire reluctantly agreed, telling Soarin to promise her that he would never cheat on her ever again.

He promised.

And now, she lies on her bed that they used to share, the promise now shattered like a mirror.

The memories they used to share: the flying, the kissing in the bathroom stalls after training so long in the hot weather…

...all of that was lies.

He left me out to dry.

Spitfire couldn’t help the tears that flowed out of her. She was alone, afraid, and heartbroken. All of this was caused by her lover's unfaithful desire.

As time flew by, the mare’s crying slowed. However, the pain took its place.

“Fucking Soarin,” she muttered in her soggy pillow. “Why did he do that to me?”

The mare popped off her pillow and sat up. She grabbed the pillow in her hooves.

“He knows I loved him to death,” she continued, ignoring her own question. “I mean, we’ve been friends since the day we first became Wonderbolts!” Spitfire said, hugging the pillow tightly to her chest. “Why would he do that to me?” She looked down at the ground, facing the window near her bed. “I just want to know…”

“Because he’s a cheater, that’s why,” a voice replied from outside her door. “Now can you open up? I think someone needs some help.”

Who in the hay is at my door?

“Go away,” Spitfire said, still clutching her pillow to her chest. “I don’t want to see anyone.”

“So, Spitfire, my Captain, and loyal friend, won't speak to me?” the voice behind the door announced, her tone of voice sounding annoyed. “Humph, such disrespect shown to a teammate…”

Spitfire facehooves and laid the pillow on her bed. She slowly walked over to the door, her tear-stricken face out to show.

“Fleetfoot, why are you outside my apartment room door?”

Spitfire heard a long drawn out sigh. “Because I heard your crying from down the hall and I knew immediately what was going on.”

“How did you know that?” Spitfire shot back.

“I don't know? Because I saw you yelling at Soarin with words only of the prophets of Discord would use…”

Oh no…

Spitfire approached the door and unlocked it. She cautiously cracked the door open to see Fleetfoot standing there. The teal Wonderbolt gazed right at her with a gentle smile on her face. “Howdy,” Fleetfoot greeted. “Can you let a poor mare in?”

Spitfire smiled. “Yes, you may.”

Fleetfoot moosied into Spitfire’s room, grinning all the while. When Spitfire sighed and closed the door, Fleetfoot’s grin immediately disappeared. “So, I guess he did the same thing to you?”

What?

Spitfire looked at Fleetfoot and raised an eyebrow. “What do you mean by that?”

“Well,” Fleetfoot begins. “Remember when he cheated on you with me?”

Much to the chagrin of Spitfire, she nodded, the memory beginning to appear once again.

Fortunately for her, it was popped in an instant.

“Well, he wasn’t just cheating on you…”

“WHAT?” Spitfire shouted.

“Basically he cheated on us both for a posh designer from Canterlot,” Fleetfoot explained. “Apparently, he was in a relationship with her before he even stepped with his two front hooves in the Wonderbolts.”

That bastard will never be remembered.

“So we were just his playthings?” Spitfire asked, holding off her seething anger.

Fleetfoot nodded and laid herself on the couch. “We were just his playthings…”

Since we’re on the same platform now, I might as well tell her...

“Fleetfoot, I have something to tell you…”

Fleetfoot ears perked up at this. “What?”

“You might want to get off that couch.”

Fleetfoot raised an eyebrow. “Why?”

“Soarin was rutting a groupie on it.”

In a split second, Fleetfoot jumped off the couch with a face of complete and utter fear for her life. “Is there any cum on my bum?!” Fleetfoot shouted anxiously.

Spitfire giggled. “Fleetfoot, you should be a poet.”

“Shut up, Fireball,” Fleetfoot said with a smirk.

Spitfire sighed as the dreaded nickname was uttered once again. Ever since the Wonderbolt tryouts, Fleetfoot called her Fireball after she attempted to perform the trademarked trick called “The Boom”. In short, she was supposed to gain enough speed to make a streak in the sky of fire and then turn at high speeds. Spitfire did succeed in making the streak of fire, but failed to make the turn, causing her to crash in a heap of hay and grass shavings. Luckily, she survived with a broken wing and a couple of rib fractures; it could’ve been worse.

After she crashed in the heap of hay, the team approached the scene to find out that the hay she landed in was on fire. When the team frantically began searching in the hay, they found her curled up in a ring of fire, unharmed by the flames surrounding her. When the pegasi used rain clouds to douse the flames, the team rushed to her aid. All this time, Spitfire was awake, laughing the whole time.

What a ball of fire.

“Don’t you ever call me that again, Fleetfoot,” Spitfire growled venomously.

“Yet you let me do it every time,” Fleetfoot chimed. “Besides, you have something else to tell me.”

“Ah-ha, right,” Spitfire scoffed, her voice trailing off. “Why don’t we go sit in the kitchen?”

Fleetfoot nodded and then looks back at the couch. “I am never sitting on your couch again…”

Spitfire giggled. The two walked into Spitfire’s kitchen and approached the table. Spitfire pulled out a seat for herself, while Fleetfoot took one across from her. As they both sat down and got comfortable, Spitfire began the conversation.

“So about my relationship with Soarin…”

Fleetfoot nodded and put her hooves on the table.

“I think he knows that we’re through for good. I can’t trust  a stallion who can’t even put his heart to his partner.” She shakily sighed. “I’m tired of being cheated on.” Spitfire leaned back in her chair and nervously twiddled with her forehooves. “And I just want a real relationship...”

Fleetfoot slightly tilted her head. “Well, what do you mean by a real relationship?”

Spitfire continued twiddling with her hooves, before she curled up into a ball. “Well I want somepony who isn’t as dense as Soarin," she muttered.

Fleetfoot smiled. “He is pretty dense…”

Spitfire chuckled. “Yeah, just like a lot of stallions,” Spitfire said while putting her hooves back on the table.

Fleetfoot giggled. “Well, you know how they are: denser than mercury and duller than any kitchen knife in the drawers. They’ll fall to the ground pretty hard.”

Spitfire and Fleetfoot begin to laugh loudly. After laughing for a couple of minutes, the two stand up and reach out to hoof bump from across the table. “We need to hang out more, Fleetfoot,” Spitfire says, gazing into her friend’s eyes.

“Right back at you, Spitfire,” Fleetfoot replied, looking at Spitfire.

Then, Fleetfoot moves her hooves away and smiles at Spitfire. “I got an idea, why don’t we go on an early vacation?”

“Early…” Spitfire begins, her eyes widening. “...vacation?”

Fleetfoot nods. “Exactly, we should go someplace where not many ponies go to…”

“And where would that be Miss Fleeter?” Spitfire says with a smirk.

“Oh shut up,” Fleetfoot says in annoyance. “You know that nickname is stupid.”

Spitfire frowns. “Not as stupid and embarrassing as Fireball.”

“Look,” Fleetfoot says, leaning back in the chair. “I’m sorry.”

Spitfire raises an eyebrow at this. “What?”

Fleetfoot sighs, “I only called you Fireball because I thought it was cool…”

Spitfire grins. “Are you pulling a Rainbow Dash on me?”

It’s Fleetfoot’s turn to raise an eyebrow. “What?”

Spitfire smiles, putting a hoof out to playfully tap Fleetfoot on the shoulder. “Oh don’t give me that look!”

Fleetfoot looks down. “I’m just sorry, I didn’t know it affected you so much.”

Spitfire sighs and gets up out of her chair to sit next to her. She carefully puts a wing around Fleetfoot. “It’s okay, but I don’t mind it as much as you think,” Spitfire begins, tightening her grip around Fleetfoot. “Besides, it allows me to call you Miss Fleeter.”

Fleetfoot looks up at Spitfire and playfully shoves her wing, causing Spitfire to lose her grip and fall over. Spitfire yelps as she hits the ground hard, but not without Fleetfoot. As Spitfire falls to the ground, Spitfire grabs the back left foot of the chair with her hoof and tugs, the chair slipping out underneath Fleetfoot. Fleetfoot notices the sudden lack of support and falls on her rump, colliding with Spitfire’s right wing.

The Spitfire and Fleetfoot look at each other, the blank faces meeting each other up close. The mares then smile, and pull their hooves out from underneath each other. In less than seconds, the room is filled with laughter, the sounds of the two tickling each other could be heard throughout the apartment. Spitfire versus Fleetfoot, a battle of epic proportions.

Spitfire swings a hoof around Fleetfoot’s neck and begins to rub along the side of her neck, causing Spitfire to chuckle lightly. As Spitfire concentrates on Fleetfoot’s neck, Fleetfoot responds by putting her hooves around Spitfire’s right wing, causing Spitfire’s wing to shoot up. Spitfire begins to giggle loudly, but cannot give up her fight. She begins swatting her wing around, attempting to stop Fleetfoot’s onslaught.

Fleetfoot sees the swift beating of Spitfire’s wings, a sign of a desperate attempt to stop her siege. As a counter, Fleetfoot slides her one hoof down Spitfire’s chest before shooting back up to rub her other wing. Spitfire’s left wing shoots up and begins to flap wildly, her screams of laughter increasing in intensity. Fleetfoot smirks and swings her back hoof over Spitfire, and stands above her.

Spitfire sees Fleetfoot’s left back hoof swoop over her side.

I can’t let her win.

In an attempt to stop the pinning, Spitfire rubs her leg against Fleetfoot’s thigh, causing Fleetfoot to look up and moan loudly. Fleetfoot casts her gaze down to Spitfire. “Spitfire, I didn’t know you swung that way.”

Spitfire blushes and throws her competitor off her. “No, just a tactical move to get you off me.”

Fleetfoot lands to the left of Spitfire, causing her to hit the dividing wall between the kitchen and the living room. She rubs her back with her hoof and looks down. Fleetfoot sighs and asks downtrodden,  “So you don’t swing that way?”

Spitfire raises an eyebrow. “Do you?”

Fleetfoot shyly nods. “Both ways…”

Spitfire eyes widen. “Well,” she starts, looking at Fleetfoot curiously. “That’s why you moaned.”

Fleetfoot continues to look down, her cheeks rosy like the color red, the various tints showing. “I-”

Spitfire puts her hoof on Fleetfoot’s shoulder. “It’s okay, I just prefer stallions over mares.”

Fleetfoot looks up at Spitfire. “So this doesn’t complicate things?”

Why would it?

Spitfire shakes her head. “No, it doesn’t,” She says, still glancing at Fleetfoot. Spitfire gets up off the ground and puts out a hoof for Fleetfoot. Her teammate sighs and grabs on the hoof. Spitfire pulls her up and the two return to their original seats. Once seated, the two simultaneously sigh and Spitfire begins the conversation. “So, where are we going, Fleetfoot?”

Fleetfoot looks down and says, “Ponyville…”

What?

“Pardon?”

Fleetfoot looks up and says, “You don’t know what Ponyville is?”

Spitfire shakes her head. “I know what Ponyville is, I just didn’t think I’d go there for a ‘vacation’.”

Fleetfoot rolls her eyes. “Well, I think if we’d go some place where no would expect us to go to,” Fleetfoot says with a smirk. “Besides, you can maybe catch yourself a stallion there.”

Spitfire rolls her eyes while Fleetfoot giggles at her. “It’s not funny,” Spitfire says while attempting to shove her teammate off her chair.

Fleetfoot smiles while dodging her Captain’s meager shove. “Was to me!”

Spitfire ignores her comment. “So, when are we going to Ponyville?”

Spitfire sees Fleetfoot twiddling her forehooves and nervously smiling at her. “Well,” Fleetfoot murmurs. “I didn’t get that far yet…”

Spitfire looks away from Fleetfoot, glancing over at the clock by the couch. “Oh,” Spitfire quietly says in reply. Spitfire looks back over at Fleetfoot, her eyes meeting her friend’s gaze. “How about tomorrow?”

Fleetfoot eyes widen and begins to nervously stutter, “B-but we can’t do that on such s-short notice!” Fleetfoot waves her forehooves around. “Remember last time when we did something like this? Our boss flipped two hundred tables in a row and it wasn’t even for a world record!” She stops her forehoof-flailing due to Spitfire glaring at her.

“Fleetfoot, I already told the boss about vacationing sometime soon,” Spitfire begins, waving her left forehoof in a circle as she speaks. “I haven’t taken a vacation in at least two years, so I definitely can take one anytime…” Spitfire grabs Fleetfoot’s hoof, which was twitching on the table. “It’s okay, we’ll be fine.”

Fleetfoot sighs and says, “Okay, let’s we’ll go talk to the boss tomorrow.” Fleetfoot stands on all fours and pushes in her chair. “I’ll see you tomorrow at the gates, then?” Fleetfoot asks cheerfully.

Spitfire gets out of her seat and nods. “I’ll see you then.” Spitfire trots over to the door and unlocks it for Fleetfoot. She opens the door, allowing for her teammate to leave.

“Night,” Fleetfoot murmurs, turning away from Spitfire.

“Night,” Spitfire says in reply.

With one final nod from Fleetfoot, the mare leaves Spitfire’s apartment, leaving Spitfire to her own thoughts.

“Ponyville, huh?” She says, quietly trotting over to the window. She looks down from her apartment highrise to see the vast landscape ahead of them, the hills rolling in the distance. “I wonder what it’s like this time of year…”

Spitfire turns and looks at her room.

“Guess I’ll do a little packing now…”

Meeting With Hell

Emotional Tension

Emotional Tension

“What do you mean we can’t go?!” Spitfire yells, slamming her forehooves on the desk in front of her. “I haven’t been on vacation in two years, boss!” She slides her hooves across the desk, leaning closer towards the desk.

“I’m sorry, Spitfire,” a more masculine voice apologizes. “But, we can’t have our team captain gone at this very moment.”

“Why, sir?” Fleetfoot says, interjecting for Spitfire.

“Because, Soarin is missing,” the stallion says as if the statement was a matter of fact.

“WHAT?” the two mares exclaim.

“You can’t be serious,” Spitfire says with a venomous tone. “That stallion…”

“What, Spitfire?” The boss begins, leaning forward in his chair, laying his two silver colored forehooves on his desk. “Do you have an idea on where this stallion is?”

Spitfire shakes her head. “No…” she says with an unsure tone. “All I know is that he left my apartment after he cheated on me.”

The silver forehooves slink back into the darkness. “He cheated on you again?” The boss questions, the noise of a chair creaking is all to be heard.

“Yes,” Spitfire says, her voice trailing off. She looks away from the desk and lands on all fours on the floor. “I am not accepting him back as my partner…”

Spitfire looks over at Fleetfoot, who is still standing behind her, her flight suit on. Apparently, it is required for those who want to talk to the boss to wear their flight suit. That is, unless you’re Spitfire.

Fleetfoot looks at Spitfire and sighs. Fleetfoot averts her gaze from Spitfire to her boss and sighs. “He’s hurt Spitfire twice now and she just wants to be away from that stallion at all costs.” She says. “Besides, he cheated on me too.”

The sudden movement of the boss’s seat causes the two to jump, the seat colliding with the metal cabinets behind him. The stallion gets up and steps out of the darkness.  His coat is like his hooves: silver. His mane, however, is slightly different, the shades of grey contrasts one another, clashing in ways nopony has ever seen before.

As he approaches the two Wonderbolts, Spitfire begins to hear her head speak volumes.

What is he doing?

Why is he coming this way?

This has never happened before!

He stops right in front of Spitfire and brings his head down due to the great height difference. “How long has this gone on for?” He says, his facial expression unreadable.

Spitfire opens her mouth to answer the question, but gets beaten by Fleetfoot to the plate. “Our relationship was for three months, sir.”

In seconds, the boss snaps to her gaze and stands before her. “And why was I notified of this at the last minute?” He says with an irritated tone.

“Becaus-”

“Who said you could talk out of turn, Captain?” He questions loudly, his emotions beginning to affect his being. “I…” he says, before groaning in despair. “Just leave my office, you two are on a two month leave.”

“Vacation leave?” Fleetfoot asks giddily.

The boss returns to his desk, the darkness taking him in once again. “No, I want to see if you can find him in Ponyville.” He slams his hooves on his desk, causing the two mares to jump. “Think of it as…” One hoof retracts into the darkness. “As a vacation with a mission…”

“Why do you think he’s in Ponyville, sir?” Spitfire asks.

The boss sighs. “I have a feeling he’d want to be as far away from Cloudsdale as possible.”

Fleetfoot steps up to the plate, standing right in front of Spitfire. “So you think Ponyville would be a good target?”

“Well, where else do you think he’d be?” The boss says in annoyance. “After all, he really loved the pie from that one pony from Ponyville.” The boss sits in his chair, the sound of creaking signifying that. “He would always try to find comfort in what he likes to eat.”

“True,” Fleetfoot says, backing away from the desk.

The two mares sigh simultaneously. The tension in the room is so thick, anypony could walk into the room with a knife, and the knife would snap into two.

“Alright, let’s go, Fleetfoot,” Spitfire says calmly. “Thank you, sir.”

With that, Spitfire and Fleetfoot leave the office, shutting the door politely.

Spitfire looks over at Fleetfoot and says, “That went well, didn’t it?”

Fleetfoot giggles. “Yeah, two whole months of vacation!” She grins at the notion. “Do you know how long that is?”

Spitfire grins back. “Yeah, one of our longest vacations in a while…”

The two walk in silence, returning to their respective rooms without muttering another peep.

This is going to be one hell of a vacation…

___________________________

Warmth.

Apprehension.

Irritation.

Want.

This is all the emotions to create a perfect rendition of Spitfire, who is feeling all of these at once. At the moment, Spitfire and her glorious friend Fleetfoot are riding on a train to Ponyville. After packing for the trip and leaving their apartments, the two set off to find transportation to Ponyville. This involved asking directions from several of the locals, who apparently were too busy fanboying and fangirling over them to even give them proper directions. As a result, they had to wander around the city, carrying their luggage on their backs.

It was the same old, same old.

After two hours of wandering, they ended up at the train station. After they walked up to the ticket window and bought their tickets to Ponyville, they had to wait for another twenty minutes for the train to arrive.

Those were the most grueling twenty minutes Spitfire had ever had to witness.

During those twenty minutes, she couldn’t get her mind off Soarin.

It was like every good memory of Soarin decided to enter her vicinity at once.

It was so bad for her, that she began tearing up. Fleetfoot saw her tear up and asked her what was wrong.

All Spitfire could do was mutter his name, before looking straight back at the tiled floor of the station.

Once the train was announced, they entered it, threw their things in, and took their seats. They sat next to each other in a booth. Spitfire had slid next to the window, staring out into the vast landscape ahead of them.

And this is where they are at present time.

Spitfire is still looking out, her facial expression depressed as anypony would be if they lost someone close to them.

Fleetfoot has had enough of it.

“Spitfire,” she addressed, her Captain snapping her attention to her. “Look, you can’t be so depressed right now, we have vacation ahead of us.”

Spitfire sighs. “Am I that easy to read?”

Fleetfoot giggles. “At some points, you’re easier to read than a picture book.”

“Shut up,” Spitfire says, folding her forehooves against her chest, her muzzle scrunching up.

Fleetfoot laughs loudly at Spitfire. “Spitfire, that face you just made!”

Spitfire sighs. “What am I going to do with you?”

Fleetfoot looks over and wiggles her eyebrows, much to the chagrin of Spitfire. “You could do a lot with me…”

Spitfire just groans in response.

“What? You don’t want to talk to me?”

“Hide me,” Spitfire mutters, her cheeks tinted as red as a rose.

“Oh, Spitfire,” Fleetfoot says. “I’m so hurt by your lack of acknowledgement!”

Spitfire giggles. “Okay, okay!” she says while putting her hooves out in front of her. “I give, I give!”

Fleetfoot smiles. “That’s more like it.”

Spitfire sighs. “Alright, I’m just upset about Soarin…”

“What about Soarin,” Fleetfoot begins, putting her hooves on top of the table in front of them. “Is bothering you?”

“Everything!” Spitfire snaps, the tears finally coming out. “First the groupie and now this!” Spitfire puts her hooves to her face. “Why did that stallion just leave without notifying HQ? Without notifying anyone on the team!” She sighs and grits her teeth, grinding them together out of frustration. “Knowing him, he’s probably drinking it away someplace!” Spitfire says.

She sighs and turns away from Fleetfoot’s gaze, looking down at the carpet in the middle aisle. “I just…” she begins to say, having trouble completing her thought.

“Just what, Spitfire?” Fleetfoot asks, her voice beginning to waver.

Spitfire shakily sighs. “I just... wouldn’t be able to bear it if he...he…” She says, her voice trailing off after realizing the worst possible outcome.

He could be dead.

He could be dead…

“Spitfire!”

“Huh?” Spitfire says, snapping out of her depressive phase.

She looks in front of her to see Fleetfoot no longer there. She panics and turns to her left to see Fleetfoot hugging her, her hooves wrapped around her midsection. “Spitfire, don’t think like that!” she cries, snuggling into her shoulder. “That big old dolt wouldn’t even have the balls to do that!”

She looks down at Fleetfoot and snuggles with her, wrapping her own hooves around Fleetfoot. “I know, it was just my brain thinking aga-”

“Snap out of it!” Fleetfoot says, hugging Spitfire tighter to her. “Soarin is stronger than that! He wouldn’t do it!”

“Fleetfoot…” Spitfire says, hugging her just as tight. “It’s okay, I know he wouldn’t do that…”

Fleetfoot looks up at Spitfire, the tears still in her eyes. “Why did you…”

“It’s okay…” Spitfire says, bringing a hoof to Fleetfoot’s mane. Spitfire begins to pet her friend’s mane, causing Fleetfoot to sigh and snuggle closer. “Don’t worry. Soarin is just trying to get away…” She says as she averts her gaze to the rest of the train car. The rest of the occupants, who have been watching the whole ordeal from afar, tear their gazes away and start their own conversations. Spitfire blushes, realizing that this little affair has roused the entire train car.

One of the train's managers comes from the car in front of theirs and approaches the two. “You ladies alright?” The stallion asks.

“Yes, we’re okay,” Spitfire responds while still holding Fleetfoot in her hooves. She averts her attention to the mare. “We’re just having a moment.”

The stallion nods. “Alright, just keep it down. We don’t want to have guests complaining,” He says, before turning around to head back to his car.

The two mares, who are the best of friends, now lie in shambles. Only remedy for their sadness is each other, the closeness keeping them together.

“Spitfire?”

“Hm?”

Fleetfoot gently nuzzles Spitfire’s neck. “Thank you…”

Spitfire smiles and returns the friendly nuzzle. “No, Fleetfoot,” Spitfire says, giving Fleetfoot a gentle squeeze. “Thank you.”

With that, Spitfire and Fleetfoot lie together as they watch the landscape pass by, their destination rapidly approaching...