Summer on Fire

Shuffling covers aside, you slowly woke up, curtains thankfully blocking the morning sun. Stretching on the soft bed, you blink sleep from your eyes, scratching your rump slowly. It certainly was a lot more comfortable than waking up on the lumpy old couch.

Pressing against you, you felt Spitfire's furry form against your body, warm and soft under the covers. Her flank was cradling your morning wood tightly, her tail fluffed out against your thighs. She shifted slightly and rubbed against you. You sigh and nuzzle her neck gently. She turns and gives you a light kiss. She obviously had been awake for a while.

You knew she loved doing that. For some reason, she could spend the whole morning just curled up against you. “Morning, rookie.” She said cheerfully.

“Morning.” You said, still a bit groggy from sleep. You ran your hoof along her body under the covers, watching her grin as she pushed her body against your hoof.

She smoothed your mane out, rubbing your neck gently as she stroked your head. You knew you didn’t have time for anything more than a kiss. She had work after all. Spitfire gave you another kiss on the side of your muzzle, before sliding out of bed and getting ready for work.

You watched Spitfire out of the corner of your eye as she came back from the bathroom. Working her officers uniform over her wings carefully, she buttoned it up, smoothing it down over her crisp white dress shirt.

“I have to hurry off to work unless I want to be late. There’s still some stuff to make pancakes in the kitchen if you want to take a shot at it. Maybe you’ll have better luck.”

Sitting up in bed, you stretch fully, watching her finish knotting her tie, before cinching it neatly around her neck. She walked over, and you lean forward as you meet her for a kiss. You can tell she just brushed. She did every morning, after all. You hold her to you, hooves rubbing her neck softly. You had grown a lot more confident in these matters lately.

Breaking away, she gave you the look again. That half lidded seductive gaze that made you wait all day long just to see her again. She didn’t have to say a word as she walked out of the apartment. The door closed hard as she hurried out, and you were left with in silence.

It had been a fun few weeks. You had never really felt like this before, but you guessed this was what falling in love with a mare was like. Nearly every given minute of the day you thought about her in some way. Sometimes it was just a passing pony that shared her coat color. Other times you would see a lingerie ad or some other provocative sign, and you’d find yourself almost blushing, remembering some forbidden act you had done.

Flipping the covers off your body, you hopped out of bed and headed for the living room. You saw the making of pancakes, but thought better of it. You always felt like a brick after eating those things. You used the bathroom, combing your mane quickly as you thought of a place nearby to catch a bite to eat. They had some kind of breakfast parfait with yogurt, berries and oats that was pretty awesome. Better yet, they made a good cup of coffee.

Must be some kind of quirk you picked up from her. You absolutely craved a cup of black coffee once you woke. It was even better after a morning cuddle session. Walking out into the hallway, you locked the door behind you, and hung a left, heading for the stairs. Maybe that was another thing you picked up, too. You were using the stairs more and more, even when Spitfire was sure to not be watching. It had gotten a lot easier, even the part where you had to go up.

It was also a nice place to just be alone with your thoughts. For at least a few minutes every day, you could just think to yourself. Nopony used the stairs, after all.

When you reached the small cafe, you ordered your coffee and parfait. You ate quicker than usual, looking forward to the day. Spitfire had finally promised to let you do the whole Wonderbolt routine with her today. It was a pretty long set of tricks, but she was impressed with how much stronger you had gotten, and figured you were ready for it.

You stepped out into the clear summer day. As you took off, you were afraid and excited, your body almost feeling electric as you flew towards the academy. It was a difficult set after all. But you knew with Spitfire flying with you, you’d be okay.

As you arrive at the Amphitheater, you see the Wonderbolts already going through their routine. Blaze and Soarin’ were working on some tricks as Spitfire watched intently. Flying over, you settled down next to her, watching the show. You noticed she was already wearing her Wonderbolt uniform, apparently ready for some stunt flying. She flashed a grin at you, brushing her tail and flank against yours playfully.

It was amazing watching the pair. Blaze always took the lead, sending subtle motions to her partner, signaling him when to follow. They were practicing loops, working on matching speed and altitude carefully. You almost became dizzy as you followed their graceful arcs. Blaze was trying to buzz the ground as closely as possible, looking over at Soarin’, beckoning her partner to match her. She suddenly pulled up with him in close pursuit, trying to match her ascent and speed as closely as possible.

You could see Soarin’ concentrate as Blaze streaked higher and higher. His wings beat in powerful thrusts as he caught up, and for one moment, the both of them flapped their wings in synch, cutting the wispy morning clouds, wrapping back down to earth in a stomach dropping dive. They landed easy this time, gently making a four point landing, grinning wildly at one another. They clapped wingtips together, and strutted over to the grandstands.

“What’d you think of that, Spits?” Blaze said, obviously pleased with herself.

“Not bad, not bad. Soarin’ started out a bit low, but you guys pulled it together at the apex that time. You’re getting faster every day, Soarin’.” Spitfire said.

The blue pony blushed. “It’s not easy keeping up with her. She might be faster than you, Spitfire.”

Spitfire smirked at Blaze. “Hm. Maybe.”

Blaze seemed to ignore her, looking over at you. “What are you doing here kid? You planning on pretending to be a Wonderbolt again?”

Trying to find the right words, Spitfire breaks between you and the other yellow mare. “Hey, he’s an honorary cadet, remember? He’s got promise, you’ll admit that at least Blaze?”

“Maybe.” She looked at you, her gaze scrutinizing. “He’s still just a kid though. He’s gonna have to do something more impressive to get anywhere around here.”

“Just sit there and watch. I’ve been working with him a bit. Let’s see what you have to say after this.” Spitfire trotted away from the two ponies, reaching into her nearby saddlebag. She tossed a yellow and blue bundle at you.

Unfurling it, you noticed the familiar design of the Wonderbolts. Spitfire watched you unroll the present, smirking. “No…it’s not mine, if that’s what you were thinking.”

You held up the stretchy spandex. It was a real Wonderbolt Cadet uniform. Resembling the actual uniform the full-fledged members wore, this one was merely the upper vest, designed with the Wonderbolt lightning bolt in bright yellow going up the chest and around the neck.

“I found one in a small size the other day. I figured it would fit you.” You hold the uniform gently at first, as if you were holding some fragile thing in your hooves. It was just spandex, but as you held that uniform, it felt like the most precious thing on the planet.

“Try it on.” Spitfire said softly.

You almost didn’t want to. You wanted to take it and go home and frame it, or lock it up somewhere for safe keeping. Carefully, you pulled the thin material open, pulling it over your head. It stretched easily to accommodate you. Shimmying it down around your body, it fit like a glove. You pulled it on all the way, your mane poofing out wildly as you slid it down. Spitfire giggled, reaching over and smoothing it out slightly.

“It really suits you.” She said.

You looked down. Yes, you were really wearing it. You were fairly certain you weren’t dreaming. The electric yellow stripe caught the sun, shimmering lightly. Even just standing there, you felt faster wearing it. Like you could do anything.

Snapping you out of your daze, Spitfire motioned towards the open field. “Don’t go getting a big head just because of that uniform, rookie. We’re going to take it slow, okay? You’re still in training after all. Don’t start thinking you’re a Wonderbolt just yet.”

Nodding to her, you felt a tingle of excitement and fear through your spine. Spitfire had been working with you, but you never had anypony watching before. And you never had chained all the tricks together into an actual show. You felt nervous as you watched for her queue to start. She looked over, and those fiery orange eyes melted that lump of fear away. Your muscles tensed, and your heart fluttered as you were overcome with a sense of pure exhilaration.

She took off slowly, giving you time to catch up. With just a few strokes of her wings, she had sailed effortlessly above you. You struggle at first, reaching her. Spitfire catches you for a brief instant, holding your hoof with hers. She looks at you, her face aglow with confidence. She motions to her left, and suddenly she’s gone, speeding away into the sky with dizzying speed. Shaking yourself to your senses, you speed off after her, trying to get into place.

The yellow mare is hurtling in a wide sideways arch, sailing back at you. You carefully judge her speed and plot a path to meet her. Spitfire doesn’t let up on her speed and she nears you. The breakneck speed would have intimidated you a couple months ago. But now your senses are sharp as a razor, as your muscles tense. She’s closing fast now, her steely gaze fixed on yours as the pegasus bears down on you. At the last moment, you angle a wing sharply, turning your axis quickly. She does the same, and your hooves meet, all four meeting one another in midair. You can feel her weight press against you for a moment, before you push off and sail away. Your adrenaline is coursing through you now as you pull off the first trick successfully. You allow yourself a confident grin, as you locate Spitfire in the sky, and set up for the next.

You meet her in the sky, flying nearly wingtip to wingtip. She meets your gaze briefly, before looking ahead and accelerating, driving you faster. You lag behind slightly, and start circling her, as she starts making slow lazy loops of her own. Watching her speed carefully, you start alternating loops in midair, mirroring her own movements as you circle each other. You allow yourself a brief moment of elation as the force your own movement takes over, carrying you through the next loop as you stretch your wings out fully.

Spitfire circles closer to you, as you bring your loop in tighter. She bears down on you as you get closer and closer, almost growing dizzy from the tight loops. As you reach each other, your speed carries you through the final movements. Spitfire is looking at you intently, her form silhouetted by the early noon sun, and the green grass as she spirals into you. You flap your wings quickly for an instant to meet her, and her hoof finally finds yours effortlessly. She holds it gently, and for a brief moment you’re almost dancing with her in midair, the lingering centripetal force driving you together. You can almost feel her mane against your body as she breaks away, setting up for another stunt.

The both of you had done this next one almost religiously for weeks. Spitfire started gaining altitude slowly, having you bring up the lead behind her. You flapped furiously, trying to gain as much altitude as possible. You knew Spitfire made this looks easy, but to match a Wonderbolts ascent was harder than it looked.

Looking back at you, she gave you a confident grin, her eyes narrowed through her flight goggles. You spurred yourself on, trying to catch the elusive mare. Clouds are whipping by as you gain altitude quickly, ascending to a dizzying height. You see the Captain briefly, silhouetted by the sun as she turns quickly, immediately starting her descent. Without losing a beat, you go after her, trying to match her blazing speed.

As you fall, you watch her closely. A slight glance is all she needs to send, before you start angling in towards her sharply. You veer closer than seems rational, neatly flying by her at the last moment, angling yourself just right to slip by her. You make a lazy turn back in towards her, and find her again, waiting for the next signal as you both keep falling to earth.

She gives a slight nod, and you bank in again, adrenaline taking over as you watch the ground hurdle towards you. You’re banking in towards her again as you grow mesmerized, suddenly concerned at your altitude, worried you won’t have the clearance to finish the next pass. You have no time to react as you feel a sharp jolt of pain in your wing, throttling you around in midair, knocking you into a solid mass of falling pony. The breath is knocked out of you, and you succumb to gravity, falling limply as you try to force your wing back into action.

The only thing you can see as you spiral out of control is the ground, coming up closer to you at a frightening speed. Any attempt to move your hobbled wing seems pointless, as you try to flutter helplessly on your remaining wing. A fear creeps into your throat, choking you slightly as you realize the worst possible outcome. You curl up tightly, desperately trying to protect yourself as the ground comes frightfully close. Just as the grass comes into focus, you’re aware of a yellow and orange form barreling into you. Your chest is pushed tight at the sudden impact; the world turning over in your eyes as something hits you just meters from the ground. The blue sky fills your vision, as you feel yourself thrown into the air. You land hard on your back, completely dazed and high on adrenaline. Wiggling your hooves, you find yourself bruised, but otherwise okay.

Righting yourself, the first thing you see are Blaze and Soarin’ racing towards you. You wanted to yell out to them. To tell them you were okay.

But it was then that you saw it. A dug out trench in the earth, caved in from impact. Grass pushed aside, you followed it, the fear welling back into you as you saw the crumpled form of Spitfire at its head. Immediately trying to fly to her, your right wing buckles, still not able to support any weight. Floundering slightly, you find your hooves, racing over the grassy field to her.

As you near her crumpled form, you breathe a sigh of relief as she stirs, trying to pick herself up from the dirt. Your heart nearly breaks as she stumbles, the proud pony falling to her knees as she tried to get up. She sees you nearing her, and gives that same fearless, confident smile. As you approach her, you’re unsure of what to even do. Spitfire keeps looking up at you, her face caked with blood and dirt from her fall.

“That was bucking stupid of me…” She says softly, wheezing slightly. She’s trying to get up again.

“Just stay still…” You whisper, finding your voice is suddenly far away. Your vision clouds as tears start running unbidden, wetting your muzzle.

She tries to get up again, her rear left leg buckling, obviously injured. The Wonderbolt curses, before eventually settling down into the dirt. Her breathing seems labored as she looks up at you again. She forces a smile. “I thought I told you rookie…not to cry….”

“I’m sorry…” You say softly.

“It’s okay…this one time…” She says, before resting her muzzle of her front hooves. She doesn’t say another word. Blaze and Soarin’ arrive, racing from the bleachers. Concerned looks on their faces, they start to tend to the injured mare. You can only look on as the surrounding Wonderbolts treat her.

The only thing you could think about, watching them load her onto a stretcher and carry her away, was why you couldn’t stop crying.

Sheepishly, you turned the corner at the Cloudsdale clinic. Wing bound in a bandage, you glance through the door, the sight inside cutting you deeply. Spitfire was on her back, front leg bandaged at her side, and a still bloodied wing bandaged tightly to her side. She had taken the impact exclusively on her left side. Pebbles and stones had gouged her coat, and a patchwork of blood red pinpricks covered her. You fought back tears as you looked at her laying there.

Soarin’ and Blaze followed behind you, bringing you to see the injured Captain.

“Look kid, you don’t have to beat yourself up over this.” Blaze said.

She was wrong. It was your fault completely. You had messed up, and Spitfire had sacrificed herself to save you. You were completely helpless again. Looking down, you realized you still wore the cadet uniform. It hurt to wear it now, suddenly a symbol of some hidden shame.

“Just go talk to her. She’s not going to blame you.” Soarin’ suggested. He opened the door, ushering Blaze and you inside before closing it behind him. Spitfire stirred at the sudden sound, glancing over at you. Her orange eyes are soft and accepting.

It just makes you feel worse.

“Hey rookie. You doing okay?”

Her concern for you while she lay there cut you deep. Swallowing through a dry mouth, you walked over to her slowly. Her marred body almost made you want to cry. You couldn’t even think of anything to say. Moving next to her hospital bed, you simply rested your head against her side, burying your head against her soft fur. She cradled you to her with her good hoof, stroking your mane back. Tears started flowing, wetting your muzzle.

“Shhh. It’s alright, kid. It’s alright…” She kept stroking your head, comforting you as you wet her side with tears.

“This is nothing, you know? I’ve been in worse scrapes than this before.” She pulled your muzzle up, looking into your eyes. You sniffled miserably, trying to staunch your crying. “Did I ever tell you about the time Blaze and I took on a Hydra when we were cadets?”

“N…no…” You stammered, trying to keep your crying in check. Wiping your muzzle on a hoof, you laid your head down on her soft side, listening to her.

“Well we were out on a routine patrol. Blaze was backing me up as we were checking out the Galloping Gorge. The fog was so thick, you could barely see your hoof in front of your face! Blaze had said we should have gone back for the night, but I was going to be damned if I let our Sergeant find out we missed a patrol again.

“So into the gorge we went, my dumb behind leading the way. We were doing okay, and by that I mean we hadn’t hit any walls in the fog. I was concentrating on the canyon walls when I should have been watching the ground. Suddenly, a very ornery hydra had clipped my wing, shearing off three of my primaries! Imagine my surprise when I tried to flap my wings for some altitude, and all I did was falter in midair like an overweight turkey!

You found yourself cracking a light smile, even though tears still were streaming down your face.

“Well ol’ Blaze here, she came flying in like a thunderbolt. She put herself under my damaged wing, and flew me out. Just as we were about to escape, that beast snapped her tail up in its maw, cutting most of it clean off!

The idea of a tailless Blaze was pretty funny. You reached out a hoof, hugging Spitfire as you blinked away tears.

“Imagine the look on our Sergeants face when we limped back in the early morning, me completely out of action, and Blaze blushing as she hid her exposed flanks!”

“Hey!” Blaze shouted over. “That’s getting a bit personal, Spits…”

Spitfire was chuckling lightly. She stroked your mane once more, before holding your muzzle up so she could see your face. “The point is, rookie, we all make mistakes. I was older than you when that happened. I was practically a Wonderbolt. I should have known better than to fly through that canyon late at night through that fog.

“You made an easy mistake, and clipped your wing as you flew past me. Could have happened to anypony. I made a decision to save you from that fall, and I don’t have any regrets, okay? I don’t want you to have any either.” She held you tight with her good hoof. “I got a badly sprained leg, and a torn muscle in my wing out of the deal. In return, I was able to save your from that fall. If anything, I won that gamble, right?”

You looked up from her yellow fur, nodding slightly.

“I don’t want to hear you blame yourself for it again, okay? Wonderbolts don’t blame themselves or others for something. When you’re up there, a split second might mean the difference. You just act, and have no regrets. Okay rookie?”

Her orange eyes had turned steely and determined again. She meant these words more than anything, you could tell. It was all you could do but nod in understanding.