The Ballad of Time Turner and Rainbow Dash: Are a Dragby dramatic_spoonChaptersWhat would Jimmy Buffett Do?HappyThe Waiting WorldBad and Beautiful and FreeWell, what the hell.What would Jimmy Buffett Do?Dash landed on a cloud and grinned at the scene in front of her: Cloudsdale bustled with activity as the factory shut down for the day. The mare passed several fillies and colts on their way back from flight school and stopped at the front door of a small, house. Dash pushed the door in, and entered. “Mom? Dad?” Dash called out, “You guys home? I got your letter.” An older stallion peeked out of the kitchen and smiled. The blue pegasus trotted out of the kitchen, his dulling rainbow mane tied back. “Hey Dashie,” he chuckled, “Early for once.” “Dad…” Dash sighed, “It’s my day off.” “Because you came in late, or an actual day off?” He chuckled again. “Dad, I don’t care what Fog Gun says, I don’t come to work that hungover.” “Kid, all I can say is you got my awesomeness and Streak’s alcohol tolerance.” Another voice responded from behind Dash. She spun around coming face to face with a pegasus mare: pink coat, wild blue mane and the same cocky smile Dash wore. “It’s not that bad, mom.” Dash rolled her eyes as the mare walked pass. “Kid, the first time I went drinking with your dad, he got hammered off of one Long Island Ice Tea.” “You told me it wasn’t alcoholic, Firefly.” He shook his head. “Yeah, yeah, keep making up excuses.” Firefly trotted into the kitchen and opened the refrigerator, “Want a beer, kid?” “Yeah, sure mom.” Dash replied, plopping down on the sofa. Firefly returned carrying two bottles and tossed one at Dash. She caught it and took a swing of beer. “So how’s Turner?” Firefly asked, “You put in the cloudwalkin’ seal for him? Because I gotta tell ya, I told that story to Wind Whistler and she thought it was hilarious.” “I got it done the day after,” Dash grumbled. “It’s one of the sacrifices you gotta make when you date an earth pony.” Firefly shrugged, “Besides, embarrassing date stories are important. You can tell’m to your kids or at family gatherings and stuff.” “More seriously,” Dash’s father interrupted, “How is he?” “He’s fine. Got some business back so he couldn’t come with me.” “Business about what?” “Pinkie made a bunch of duplicates of herself and they caused trouble, so he had to kind off take care of the repair budget.” Dash took a swing of beer. “…Kid, Pinkie is messed up.” Firefly paused, “I know she’s your friend and all, but this is bullsh-” “Oh, that’s right.” Dash’s father interrupted, “Heard about the stunt you pulled off at the Academy.” “…Time Turner nearly got killed.” Dash muttered. “Well…” He paused, “Yeah.” “Kid, love makes you do stupid ass things,” Firefly took a swing of her beer, “You shoulda kicked Lightning Dust’s ass for doing stupid shit like that.” “She can’t blow her chance by letting her emotions get the better of her, Fly.” Dash’s father countered. “Streak, sometimes you’re gonna find out that there are circumstances where it’s alright to kick the crap out of someone.” Firefly paused, “I mean, I was in Dash’s position and it was you, I know I would.” “Yeah, well…Soarin was there too.” Dash paused, “He’s dating Rarity.” “Isn’t she your age?” “She’s like six years older than me, dad.” Dash paused, “Soarin’s like eight years older than me.” “Hm.” Her father went back to cooking, “Well, at least the tabloids haven’t gotten to it yet.” “They try to keep it low on the radar,” Dash emptied her bottle, “Not good for either of them.” “Yeah, well…” Firefly drained her beer, “She’s lucky.” “You think so?” Streak asked, “There’s always a downside to dating celebrities.” “How would you know?” Firefly countered. “I dated you in high school remember?” Streak shrugged, “What’s that song? She wears high heels, I wear sneakers/ she’s Cheer captain and I’m on the bleachers.” Dash stared at her father in disbelief “…Dad, are you quoting a Swift Tail song?” “Why not? It’s catchy.” “Forget it kid,” Firefly shook her head, “Most midlife crisis involves younger girls and ridiculous expensive crap. Your Dad’s midlife crisis means listening to bubblegum pop crap that’s meant for teenaged girls.” “Dinner’s ready, you two.” Streak ignored her. The two mares flittered into the dining room. They settled at the table as Dash’s father placed a large pot on the table, and ladled out its contents. “…Ok, what’s going on?” Dash asked. “What do you mean?” Firefly asked. “You guys invite me home to talk about something and now you’re making Borsch,” Dash paused, “You only do that when you got important things to tell me.” “…Well…” Streak paused, “We do like Time Turner. He’s abit…” “Scatterebrained.” Firefly interrupted. “Your mother’s words, not mine.” Streak quickly clarified, “And…well…” Dash’s face froze in horror. “Oh Celestia, you want to meet his parents.” “Basically.” Streak shrugged. “Kid, if you want to make little flying babies with him, I want to know who the other grandparents will be,” Firefly dumped dried dill and chopped tomatoes onto her borsch. “…Turner’s parents are…Interesting.” Dash admitted, “I…I guess I can talk to him about it.” “Good,” Firefly shoved a spoonful of borsch into her mouth, “What kind of beer they do like?” “They’re more of wine ponies.” “What?!?” Firefly dropped her spoon, “Wine? Who wants to drink that stuff?” “…This is going to be interesting,” Streak sighed, pouring more sour cream into his borsch. --- Time Turner tucked the last of his papers into the manila folder and placed it in the drawer. Satisfied, he trotted over to the door and left the room. “Drinking again?” Raven asked, not looking up from her paper work. “Dash wanted to talk to me about something.” “Couldn’t you just meet at her place?” “After I nearly fell to death?” Turner shook his head, “No.” “And your place?” Raven continued on. “We like meeting at the bar.” “And I’m sure Berry like it too.” Raven muttered. “What was that?” “Nothing. Have fun drinking.” “Raven, one of these days, you need to go and loosen up a bit.” “Turner, I cover for the mayor and you. Someone has to be the serious one.” Raven muttered as he left. Turner continued down the road, heading towards the bar. “Hey Turner.” Somepony called out to him. Turner turned to see Big Macintosh and Cloudchaser. “Oh, Hello Mac, Hello Cloudchaser.” “Going to the bar with Dash tonight?” Cloudchaser chuckled. “…We don’t always go to the bar.” He muttered. “It’s Tuesday, of course you’re going.” The pegasus jokingly retorted, “Anyway, have a good time. Don’t get blackout drunk.” Turner rolled his eyes and walked off. He continued down the street, before finally coming up to Berry’s. He entered the bar and looked around: Dash sat at the bar, nursing a mug of something frothy and pale. To her left sat a chatty older unicorn: light brown mane, grey amber coat and a cutie mark in the form of a simple roulette wheel and a coin. “So anyway…” the older mare trailed off as she noticed Time Turner, “Oh there he is.” “Hello mother.” Time Turner sighed as he went over to the bar and took the seat next to Dash, “What brings you to Ponyville.” “I just felt like visiting my favorite son,” Turner’s mother placed her wine flute back onto the counter top, “Another.” “I’m your only son.” He sighed as Berry poured out wine, “The usual, Berry.” “Out of stout.” Berry’s muffled reply came, “Some accident with my supplier.” “Gin and tonic then.” “You know I don’t approve of gin.” His mother shook her head. “Mother, that was years ago. Before I knew my limits.” “What happened?” Dash perked up alittle, taking a swing of her ale. “He got into the gin and then the whisky.” His mother paused, taking another sip, “We found him hanging out one of the windows, trying not to throw up.” “…Better than mine.” Dash grumbled, “I don’t remember what I did, but my mom said they found me sleeping with my head in the toilet.” “As fascinating as this conversation is,” Berry interrupted placing the glass in front of Time Turner, “I don’t think this is something I want to hear.” “Sorry.” Turner took a swing of his own drink, “Something’s on your mind, Dash.” “What makes you say that?” “You’re less chatty than normal.” Turner retorted. “Well…” Dash paused. “Ah! I knew something was wrong.” Turner’s mother smiled, “Could I get an Aqua Velva?” “Gimme a moment,” Berry trotted off. “Well…” Dash looked at Turner as he took another sip of his drink. “My parents want to meet your parents.” Turner’s eyes bulged and he spat out his drink, dousing the unfortunate Berry in it. The bartender frowned as the gin dripped down her mane. “Pay your tab. Tonight.” Berry grumbled, as she trotted off in search of water and a mop. “I wouldn’t mind meeting them,” Time Turner’s mother broke the awkward moment, “I’m sure your father would too.” “Mother, Dad is…how do I put it nicely, never happy to do anything except grumble and stare at you with contempt.” “He’s your father, he always looks at people that way.” She turned her attention back to Dash, “Do they have any idea where they would like to meet?” “Dad said it would probably be better if it was somewhere on the ground,” Dash paused, “Outside of my great-aunt Rainbow, we don’t have a lot of earth ponies or unicorns in the family.” “Excellent! I’ll talk to Clagan, It can be at our house,” she paused again, “Hopefully they don’t mind, it’s a bit…well, nicer than what most ponies have.” “I’m sure they won’t.” Dash flashed a faked smile as Berry came back, mop in hoof. The mare held it out at Time Turner. “Clean up your mess.” Time Turner trotted around the bar and took the mop from the still grumpy mare. Berry set to work behind the bar and delivered an Aqua Velva to Turner’s mother. The giddy mare ignored it as she continued to prattle off about her preparations for the upcoming event. “Dash, do your parents know what they’re getting into?” Turner grumbled, “I mean, you’ve met my father and I’ve met your parents and well…” He shrugged, “I don’t think it’s going to work out too well.” “Turner, I don’t think anyone knows what they’re getting into.” HappyRainbow Dash and her parents flew through the sky. Firefly’s saddlebags bulged out and glass clinked together with every flap of her wings, while steam rose out of Streak’s bag. Dash turned her head, looking at her parents. “Remember, I like this guy. Don’t do anything stupid.” “I think it’ll go fine, Dashie.” Streak chuckled, “I hope we get there soon, I don’t want this end up warm.” “Kid, I don’t do stupid,” Firefly grumbled, “Hope they like Bourbon.” “Well…His mom likes cocktails,” Dash responded, “Like the really fruity, umbrella-y kind.” “What about his dad?” “I don’t know.” Dash shrugged, “I didn’t see him drink anything when I was at their house.” “…He’s not a teetotaler is he?” “No.” “Hell, then wh-” “…Dashie, are we almost there?” Streak interrupted Firefly’s response. “Yeah we’re almost there.” Dash turned her attention back to her surroundings. --- Time Turner slouched on the sofa before glancing up at the grandfather clock. “Not time yet,” He muttered to himself. “Sit up straight. And cease mumbling,” a stern, older voice ordered. Time Turner straightened out before looking behind him. An older earth stallion with a graying mane and dark brown coat frowned back. The older stallion trotted past Turner, revealing his cutie mark: an antique clock. “You never told me anything about Rainbow Dash’s parents,” he paused, “What is her father like?” “Bluestreak? Well… he’s…He’s a teacher.” “What does he teach?” “…Art?” “Hrmph.” The older stallion looked up at the clock again, “And her mother?” “Firefly is… an instructor.” “Both her parents are teachers?” “Sort of.” Time Turner paused “Which is it?” He snapped, “Either they both are or they are not.” “Dear, calm down.” Turner’s mother appeared bottle of wine in her aura, “I’m sure he has an explanation.” “She teaches at the Flight Academy,” Turner continued on, “She’s apparently was Wonderbolt material.” “And she’s teaching foals.” His father’s frown grew, “Hrmph.” --- “Kid, I know you told me they had money, but I wasn’t expecting this.” Firefly looked up at the home: two stories and spacious. Well-cared for and carefully maintained hedges lined the home and walkways, and a small flower garden sat at the side. “…Shit, I knew I should have gone with the more expensive bourbon.” She muttered, “Do they have a wine cellar?” “Mom, the last thing I need is for them to think you’re some sort of drunken lunatic.” “I take offense to the lunatic part.” Firefly grumbled. “Can we just go inside?” Streak interrupted Dash’s response, “I think being prudent would be a good thing to establish.” “Whatever.” Firefly rolled her eyes. The family trotted towards the front door and stopped. “Wow, they even got one of those little ‘Welcome please wipe hooves before entering’ mats.” Firefly looked down, “I thought those things were made-up.” “We live on clouds, we don’t usually track dirt everywhere,” Streak paused, “Although there was that one time when you let Dashie track the liquid rainbow everywhere.” “How was I supposed to know she tried bringing it home?” Firefly grumbled, “Who looks inside a Wonderbolt’s thermos when their kid comes home?” “You didn’t notice it leaking everywhere?” “Guys, can we not do this right now?” Dash asked, “Please act normal, this is the guy I like. Last thing I want his is parents to hate you.” Dash reached up and grabbed the door knocker, pounding it against the door a few times. Inside, Time Tuner perked up, and got off the couch. “Let me greet them,” Time Turner asked, “That way we can figure out how to do this.” “Hrmph.” Turner’s father grunted and trotted off. “Of course, dear.” Turner’s mother took a seat on the couch as searched for wine glasses. Turner walked down the hallway, pausing at the front door. As a second round of impatient knocking began, Turner opened the door. Dash flashed a smile before leaning over and giving the stallion a peck on the cheek. “Hey Turner, we’re not late are we?” “Hardly. Mother is working on getting the wine ready, while father is…” Turner trailed off and shrugged. “Hello Firefly, Bluestreak.” “Hey kid,” Firefly motioned to her saddlebag, “I brought bourbon, shoulda asked Dash first if your folks drink that stuff.” “Mother only drinks it if it’s mixed and Father prefers Whisky.” “…Well, too bad.” Firefly shrugged, “More for me.” Turner trotted back inside, followed by Dash. Firefly and Bluestreak lagged behind. “Firefly, please don’t do anything stupid,” Bluestreak paused, “I want this to go better than when my parents met you.” “That went fine.” Firefly grumbled “Says you.” “Look at this place.” Firefly ignored him, and motioned at the hallway: portraits of Time Turner and his parents sat on the walls showcasing various points of the stallion’s life. She paused on the last picture: a photo of Time Turner and Dash sitting at a fancy restaurant beaming at the camera. “They look happy in this one.” She pointed it out to Bluestreak. “I don’t have to look a picture to know my daughter’s happy.” He paused, “So I know that we shouldn’t screw this up.” “…Yeah.” “Hello again, Dash.” Time Turner’s Mother beamed at the pegasus as she entered the room, “Where are your parents?” “They’re…” Dash motioned towards her parents as they stepped out of the hallway and into the room, “Here.” “Hello there!” Time Turner’s Mother trotted over to Firefly and held out a hoof, “Fortuna.” “Firefly.” She took the offered hoof and shook. Bluestreak offered Fortuna his hoof. “I’m Bluestreak, Dash’s Fa-” he trailed off as Fortuna gave him a quick peck on the cheek. Bluestreak blushed as both Rainbow Dash and Time Turner slapped their foreheads and Firefly frowned. “Sorry,” Fortuna giggled, “habit of mine.” “Well, anyway,” Bluestreak coughed, “I brought moustalevria.” “I’m not familiar with what that is.” “Ah, it’s sort of like custard made with flour and grape must. My brother owns a Mavro Nimbus vineyard and makes wine,” Bluestreak paused, “Dashie, did we grab a bottle of wine from Uncle Smokescreen’s vineyard?” “Yeah, I got it.” Dash pulled the bottle from her bag, “Might have gotten a bit shaken up from the flight.” “Anyway, as I was saying, it’s quite good.” Bluestreak turned his attention back to Fortuna, “But it needs to stay chilled.” “Ah, please let me take it,” Fortuna’s aura opened Bluestreak’s saddle and pulled out a plastic container. She motioned for the two to sit, “Please, make yourselves at home, have some wine.” Fortuna left the room as Firefly placed the bottle of Bourbon on the table. Dash and Turner sat next to each other as Bluestreak hung up their saddle bags. Biting at the top of the bourbon, Firefly eventually pried the cap off and looked around the room. “Turner, you got any tumblers?” “In the other room,” the stallion got back to his hooves. Dash followed him getting off of the couch. “I’m gonna get some water. Don’t feel like drinking yet.” The two left the room as Bluestreak picked up the bottle of wine Fortuna had left and looked at the label. “Hey, this is from Smoke’s vineyard.” Bluestreak chuckled, “Looks like he’s doing pretty well.” Bluestreak poured some of the wine out into a wine glass as Time Turner’s father entered the room. The three paused, staring at each other. The edge of Time Turner’s father’s mouth twitched slightly as Firefly’s frown grew. Bluestreak placed the wine bottle down before standing up and trotting over. “You must be Turner’s father,” Bluestreak held out a hoof, “I’m Dash’s dad, Bluestreak.” “Clagan.” The stallion ignored the offered hoof and sat down. Bluestreak blinked before sitting back down as Firefly’s frown grew larger. “Firefly. Dash’s mom,” she motioned to the bourbon, “Bourbon?” “Is it whisky?” Clagan asked. “Bourbon Whiskey.” “Is it Whiskey or whisky?” Clagan asked again. “What’s the difference?” “Whisky is worth drinking. Whiskey with an ‘e’ isn’t. Clagan picked up the bottle, “Hrm.” “…Bourbon’s Bourbon. Who cares how it’s spelt?” “…Whiskey and whisky are very serious business. Not that I expect someone who likes cheap liquor to understand.” “Settle down, fly.” Bluestreak grunted as he jabbed his elbow into her side, “don’t do something stupid.” “I won’t if he doesn’t make me.” “Oh good!” Fortuna returned, beaming, “You’ve met my husband. Where did Turner and Dash go?” “They went to get some glasses for the bourbon,” Bluestreak replied, “I’m sorry to ask, but where is the bathroom?” “Down the hall, second door to the left.” “Thanks.” Bluestreak got up leaving Firefly alone. --- “Dash, are you sure you want to leave your mom in there with my father?” Turner asked as he opened a cabinet door and pulled out the glasses. “Yeah, why?” Dash asked, taking them from him. “Because…well, it’s your mom and it’s my father.” He closed the cabinet, “You know he’s a grumpy killjoy, and your mom is…shall we say short tempered?” Dash paused, nearly dropping the glasses. “Oh. Right.” She paused again as Turner stared at her, eyebrow raised. “…Well, I don’t hear yelling, so it should be fine.” The Waiting World“So…Firefly,” Fortuna broke the silence, “Dash and Turner tell us you work at the flight school?” “Huh? Oh, right.” Firefly shrugged, “Yeah.” “It must be so rewarding, working with such promising young fliers.” “Well…” Firefly shrugged again, “Mixed bag. Some of the kids are pretty good, some are pretty rough, and some are pretty hopeless.” “That’s a rather strong word to use, isn’t it?” Clagan interrupted. “Look, Everyone’s dream is to be a Wonderbolt, or part of the Royal Guard or whatever nonsense, right?” Firefly shook her head, “Not everyone can be, some folks do well enough to work in the rainbow factory, or snow makers or whatever. And then the kids who aren’t any good at flying…Well…” “He also mentioned you were almost part of the Wonderbolts yourself,” Clagan continued on. “Yeah. Almost made it.” Firefly sighed, “I don’t really want to talk about that, alright?” “Yes, dear,” Fortuna added, “something like that sounds like such a sensitive topic.” Before Clagan count respond, Dash and Time Turner returned with a tray of glass tumblers and ice. “Sorry, back mom. Brought ice incase you wanted some.” Dash flashed a grin as she sat back down. Turner also sat down, next to his mother. Firefly quickly dropped a few cubes of ice into a glass before topping it off with bourbon and taking a drink. “It’s good bourbon, you sure you don’t want any?” Firefly asked as Dash filled up her own glass. “I’ll stick to wine, thank you.” Fortuna lifted her own glass. “I’m not going to drink anything,” Turner chuckled. “I think I will help myself to some wine. I prefer whisky, but it appears we don’t have any.” Firefly scowled as the stallion poured a glass of wine. Dash jabbed her elbow into her mother’s ribs. “He’s doing it on purpose,” Dash hissed, “don’t let him get to you.” “Trying, kid.” She hissed back. Bluestreak trotted back into the room, sitting down next to Dash. “You have a very nice bathroom, are the counters slate or marble?” “Slate.” Fortuna responded. “Do you mind if I have some wine?” Bluestreak continued on. “Of course not, go ahead.” “Can’t help but notice that it came from Mesmerican vineyards,” Bluestreak continued, “Do you normally buy their wine or was this a gift?” “It’s a nice vineyard,” Fortuna took a sip from her glass, “It has that slight acidic flavor.” “My younger brother owns the vineyard,” Bluestreak chuckled. “You never told us that, Dashie.” Fortuna looked at the mare. Dash paused, bourbon halfway to her mouth. “Well…I didn’t think Uncle Smoke was that important to talk about,” Dash shrugged, “Beside I don’t drink wine, so I didn’t know what his grape thing was called anyway.” “Hrmph.” Clagan frowned, “Turner said that you are a teacher.” “Well…sort of.” Bluestreak paused, “I’m a historian.” “What era?” Clagan continued on. “Well I’m mostly focused on the Ancient Pegasi City states in the period before they’re united by Commander Hurricane.” “Ah.” Clagan paused, “Turner said you taught art.” “I dabble in art history too.” Bluestreak shrugged, “Mostly Dada.” “Pre or post Great Griffon War?” “Pre.” “Well that can’t be much of a history,” Clagan scoffed. “I disagree. There’s certainly very Dada aspects to the Anti-Art movement before the war.” Bluestreak countered. “Yes, but Dadaism isn’t well established until the war was well into the third year of the war.” Clagan retorted, “Obviously anything in the prewar situation that was remotely similar to Dada would retroactively become Dada.” “That’s where I disagree,” Bluestreak put his wine glass down, “See, if we want to argue Modern and Post-Modern, we have to take the pre-war situation into account. What passes off as Modern in the Griffon Empire is different than what the French or Ibexians consider Modern.” “Hardly.” Clagan scoffed. The two continued a lively, animated conversation as Firefly rolled her eyes and drained her glass. “Why don’t we go to the next room, so they can keep talking?” Fortuna suggested. “Yeah, whatever.” Firefly shrugged as she picked up the bottle of Bourbon. Fortuna’s aura plucked her own glass off the table, “Turner, Rainbow, would you mind getting dinner set up?” “No, we can do it.” Dash cut off Time Turner’s response. “Thank you dearie.” The two mothers left the room, while Bluestreak and Clagan continued to argue. Dash and Turner got up and returned to the kitchen. “Did she mention what you guys were serving?” Dash asked. “Why did you tell her that we’d set it up?” Turner ignored her question. “You really want to be in the same room with mom stories?” Dash countered, “I nearly fell asleep listening to Dad talk about Dodo.” “Dada” “Whatever,” Dash waved the thought away, “The point is; now we don’t have to listen.” “You really think your mom is going to tell embarrassing stories about you?” “It’s what parents do.” “So then, Firefly, how did you meet Bluestreak?” Fortuna asked, refilling her wine glass. “High School.” “Oh, High School sweethearts? How romantic.” “Yeah, it’s like one of those cheesy romance novels, with the tomboy and the shy, quiet guy,” Firefly drained her glass, “I hate those. Bluestreak likes them though.” “Really?” Fortuna chuckled as she poured herself another glass of wine, “I wouldn’t have guessed.” “How did you two meet?” Firefly changed the subject, “I mean he’s…” “Grumpy and conceited?” “I was gonna say-” “Asshole?” “Well…”Firefly trailed off, “Yeah.” “I’ve heard it plenty of times,” Fortuna smiled, “Why, the first time I met him, I slapped him.” “I can’t imagine why.” Firefly grumbled, taking another swing of her drink. “He can’t help it, it was part of his upbringing,” Fortuna paused, “His parents were both rather harsh on him.” “That doesn’t really excuse anything,” Firefly mumbled as she looked down at her glass, avoiding eye contact. “…True.” Fortuna shrugged, “Please be patient with him though, he takes time to warm up to people.” “…What do you think of my daughter?” the pegasus abruptly changed the subject, taking Fortuna back. “I beg your pardon?” “Dash.” Firefly turned her attention away from her alcohol and towards Fortuna, “what do you think about her?” “What the heck is this stuff?” Dash frowned. “Pitepalt. Sort of a dumpling, stuffed with onions, barley and some spices.” Turner began setting the table, placing several plates and utensils out. “And this thing?” Dash opened a jar of a reddish jelly “Lingonberry jam.” “And this one?” Dash lifted the lid off a pot on the stove, “its soup.” “Artsoppa, Yellow Pea Soup.” “And these roll looking things?” Dash lifted the lid off a large sauce pan, revealing it to be filled with rolls of cabbage, smothered a light grey sauce. “Kaldolmar in onion-butter gravy.” “A kaleidoscope?” “Kaldolmar. Rice and some other vegetables wrapped in cabbage.” Turner replied. “Why didn’t you just call it cabbage rolls?” Dash rolled her eyes as she began to spoon the rolls into a serving platter. “Because Cabbage rolls are part of a lot of different cultures, and this is a specific type. For reasons I’ve never really understood, my mother is very found of Gotlandish cuisine.” “Isn’t it all smorgasbords and ABBA?” Dash frowned. “ABBA is a musical group, not a food.” Time Turner paused, “How do you know ABBA?” “Dad dragged me to that musical about them. Mom was sick, so she made me go.” “Mama Mia?” Time Turner asked, baffled. “That was it,” Dash paused, “He likes the band.” “Dash is…” Fortuna paused, “Please don’t tell my husband this, but Dash is his worst nightmare. She’s the last sort of mare that my husband expected Turner to fall in love with.” “Really.” “My husband expected him to find a more…shall we say submissive mare? The first time we met her, Turner admitted he was expecting a fight to break out.” Fortuna paused, “It nearly did, for the record. I imagine she omitted that when she retold this to you.” “She mentioned it.” “Well…He’s warming up to her. He admitted she’s strong willed, and loyal. There are some things he still doesn’t like about her, but he’ll just have to get use to them.” “That’s nice, but it’s not answering my question,” Firefly paused, “What do you think about her?” “I like her. She’s not afraid to speak her mind, she’s protective, and she’s quick to rush in to defend her friends and lovers, and always does what’s necessary.” Fortuna took a sip of her wine, “That said, she’s impulsive and doesn’t always think things through. She can be lazy, but ponies can change. Did she actually drop out of Flight School?” “Yes. She got picked up by the Weather Team pretty quickly, so she got a lot of hooves-on work experience. She could probably go back and finish things up easily, tends to happen when you are Wonderbolt material.” Firefly shrugged. “And what do you think about Turner?” Fortuna asked. “Reminds me of Bluestreak when we started dating. Awkward, dorky, clumsy, but he’s got a good head and a good heart.” “…Well, I think we should check on the two of them, see how dinner is coming along.” Fortuna stood up, “if I drink any more I might be too drunk to enjoy it. Have you ever had Gotlandish cuisine?” “It’s all smorgasbords and ABBA, isn’t it?” Firefly drained her glass and slammed it on the table. Bad and Beautiful and Free“So that’s basically my opinion on the subject,” Bluestreak concluded. “It’s a very unorthodox approach.” Clagan continued on, “What do your colleagues have to say on the matter?” “Well, Professor Bitterbill covers the modern era, so he’s a bit more critical of my interpretation of Modernism.” “Hrm. A Griffon?” “Yes, but his specialty is Rus history,” Bluestreak paused, “It’s quite interesting.” “I would imagine so.” “But onto another topic, what do you and your wife do for a living?” “I’m a lawyer.” Clagan stated. “…Somehow I expected that.” “Fortuna works as a secretary. It’s not entirely necessary, but she was adamant about being more than just a housewife.” “Ah. Getting out and interacting with other ponies is always good.” Bluestreak refilled his glass, “Top yours off?” “No, I think that’s enough for now.” Clagan paused, “Fortuna had made Gotlandish dishes tonight.” “Beetballs?” “No, stuffed cabbage, pea soup, that sort of thing.” Clagan waved a hoof, “She likes it.” “Well…I’m sure it will be good. Usually I just cook Skyrosian. My mother owned a small little restaurant in Cloudsdale, so I grew up helping her.” “Hrmh. And you went into education over culinary school.” “Cooking is a hobby. Teaching and learning was a passion,” Bluestreak paused, “I have a wonderful student named Beachcomber who loves art history.” “And yet you let your own daughter drop out of flight school.” “We…” Bluestreak paused, “Dash is smart. She’s just not book smart. She passed all her physical test and most of the written ones…She has a good job as weather manager, she got a lot of on the job training with Fog Gun.” “I suppose it’s not that difficult.” “Weather is actually much more difficult to deal with than you think,” Bluestreak chuckled, “The difference between a gentle shower and a hurricane comes down to experience.” “..And she still expects to join the Wonderbolts with just ‘experience’?” “She got accepted to the academy. She’s one of the better recruits.” “And the history exam?” Clagan continued on, “Has she thought about how she will deal with that?” Bluestreak paused, “As much as I hate to use the phrase, we’ll burn that bridge when we get to it. She has very good friends, Twilight Sparkle is Princess Celestia’s prized student, after all.” “Being a student is one thing. Being a teacher is another, is it not?” “…True.” Bluestreak shrugged, “I met her once, she seems to be very smart, but not so good with other ponies.” “I would hardly know.” The two fell silent again as Bluestreak refilled his glass. “I like Rainbow,” Clagan paused, “Time Turner and Fortuna both think that I don’t like her. Some nonsense about how the only mares I like are submissive and quiet. She’s strong willed, unafraid to speak her mind, and most importantly, loyal.” “Well, she is the Element of Loyalty after all.” “It’s a very good trait. The world and times are changing and they need to make it theirs.” Clagan paused, “I’ll be dead soon enough.” “That’s a rather pessimistic way of looking at it, isn’t it? “Hardly. I have a well-paying job. I’m married. I have a son who has a decent job and is likely to become mayor in the future. He has a marefriend. All that’s left are the wedding and the grandson.” “Child.” Bluestreak chuckled. “What?” “Grandchild.” Bluestreak chuckled, “No guarantees about if it’s a boy or a girl.” “It should be a boy.” Clagan huffed. “I think that should be left to the two of them.” “Hrmph.” “I like Turner if that’s what you’re going to ask next.” Bluestreak ignored Clagan, “He reminds me of myself at that age.” “…” “And Dash is certainly her mother’s child,” Bluestreak paused, “…They say the quote “History Repeats” is bunk, but it certainly does a good job of déjà vu.” “Hrpmh. Bright Spear claims that that’s the problem with history.” “Of course. He’s a lawyer too.” Bluestreak chuckled, “Red Banner called it a Farce and then a tragedy.” “Of course the revolutionary would.” Clagan scoffed. “How did you meet your wife anyway? She’s so…” “Some would say ‘Opposites attract’, but that’s not really true.” Clagan paused, “I met her at a friend’s get-together. Needless to say, I left that party with a red cheek.” “…This sounds like a really bad romance novel.” Bluestreak shook his head. “It was.” Clagan sighed, “My parents did not like her, but I didn’t care at that point. I did tell myself I would never be like them and,” he paused again, “Here we are.” “I think the important thing is that they’re happy.” “True.” “Also, please try not to antagonize Fly too much,” Bluestreak placed his drink down, “She gets punchy.” “ ‘Punchy’.” “Yes. She once knocked out a Royal Guard because he was giving her a hard time,” he paused, “Fortunately, the charges were dropped.” “…Hrm.” Time Turner popped his head into the room, cutting off the rest of Clagan’s response, “Dinner is ready.” He informed the two before vanishing again. “Well then, I hope you don’t mind Gotlandish.” Clagan stood up. “It’s nice to try new things.” Bluestreak stood up, “I’ll be there in abit, I need to use the bathroom.” Clagan trotted off as Bluestreak headed back to the bathroom. “He seems nice enough,” Clagan mused, “Rainbow Dash obviously takes after her mother.” Clagan entered the dinning room; Fortuna continued to cheerfully chat, while Firefly sat across of her and ignored her in favor of her drink. Dash and Turner continued to set the table as Clagan took his seat next to Fortuna. “Bluestreak is in the restroom, but I think we can wait for him.” “He has a weird bladder,” Firefly grumbled, “Talking to people makes him nervous.” “Hrmph.” Clagan paused, “What’s that smell?” “What?” Time Turner and Dash paused, sniffing the air. Dash’s eyes suddenly widened as realization hit. “Oh shit, the arksloppa!” She spun around and zoomed back into the kitchen as Time Turner followed her. The door slammed open and then slammed shut. “…I think I’m going to check on them.” Fortuna stood up, and followed the two into the kitchen. As she opened the door, smoke began to pour into the dining room and snippets of an argument could be heard. “…I thought it was supposed to be served cold!” Time Turner protested. “It’s Scandinavian! Everything there is ice and snow and stuff! Who wants to eat cold soup there?” Dash countered, “I thought you were keeping an eye on it!” Turner’s response was cut off as the door closed, leaving Firefly and Clagan in the dining room alone. “…So then,” Firefly sat back up, ignoring her glass, “I guess we should bite the bullet and talk.” Well, what the hell.“So then,” Firefly trailed off, “I’m sure Streak had a lot to say.” “He did. I am sure Fortuna had plenty to say as well.” “Yep.” “Not all of it was good, of course.” Clagan chuckled. “Nope.” “You sound like an Apple,” Clagan scoffed at the memory of his client, “He was infuriating to speak with.” “I can imagine, Dash complains about her friend Applejack,” Firefly rolled her eyes, “Competitive.” “I would assume that she is friends with her fellow Elements.” Clagan paused, “That came out more mean spirited than intended.” “Really?” Firefly snapped back. “You do realize first impressions work both ways, yes?” Clagan continued on, “It seems that neither of us are doing a particularly good job here.” Firefly paused. Her mouth twitched slightly as she silently agreed. “So let us try this again,” Clagan cleared his throat, “I am Clagan, Time Turner’s father.” “Firefly. Dash’s mom. I’m not related to the one that founded the Wonderbolts,” she continued on, “My parents just named me after her.” “Ah. I’ve noticed that sort of naming practice tends to repeat itself.” “Don’t get me started on that,” Firefly rolled her eyes, “I wanted to name her Venus, but Streak insisted on his great-Aunt.” Clagan frowned, anticipating Firefly to continue on. “He obviously won that argument.” Firefly shrugged. “Why Venus?” “I like the name.” The kitchen door creaked every so slightly more open as the three ponies pressed up against it, listening in. Dash and Turner frowned at the story, momentarily pulling away to keep their voices down. “See? Embarrassing stories.” Dash grumbled, tossing up her hooves in disgust. “…I don’t know, I think you could pull off being a Venus.” Turner shrugged. “Remind me to tell the story of how we almost named you Sprocket.” Fortuna chuckled as she motioned for them to return. “So then, obviously Turner has spoken to you and your husband about us?” Clagan continued on. “Some. He was the bigger problem at the time,” Firefly traced her hoof on the lip of her glass, “Who cares about the parents if you don’t like the kid?” “…Valid point.” “Did they tell you about the whole Hearts and Hooves Day thing?” Firefly refilled her glass. “What is she talking about?” Fortuna whispered. “You didn’t tell them?” Dash hissed. “Well, I try not to talk about the times I nearly died.” he countered. “What Hearts and Hooves Day thing?” Clagan inquired. A malicious smile crept onto Firefly’s face as she continued on. “Dash decided to make dinner for the two of them at her place.” “Well that’s a typical romantic ge…” Realization dawned on Clagan, “she lives in a cloudhouse, doesn’t she?” “Oh yeah.” “She did have them enchant her floors?” “She had some of them treated.” Firefly’s grin grew larger, “He found out the hard way.” Clagan began to massage his temples. Inside the kitchen, Fortuna stifled a laugh. “Excuse me for a moment.” the mare giggled as she left through another door. After several moments, muffled, uncontrollable laughter could be heard. “Called it.” Dash grumbled. “Well in absolute fairness, I didn’t expect your mother to tell one of the stories about how I almost died.” Turner snarked back. “Just hope she doesn’t talk about the next one.” Dash muttered. “I think one ‘Your son nearly died’ story is enough.” Firefly downed another shot of bourbon as Clagan continued to massage his head. “He’s her first coltfriend, she’s bound to screw up from time to time,” Firefly shrugged. “Screw-ups don’t usually kill ponies.” He countered. “I know.” Firefly shook her head, “She’s trying, though. To get better, not trying to kill him.” she quickly clarified. “I would hope.” “Can I ask you something?” Firefly continued on, “Dash mentioned she had met you, but she didn’t tell me how that went.” “…And you want to know how it went?” Clagan paused, “It went well. We met at a very nice restaurant, although I think it was because Fortuna and Turner didn’t want me to complain too much.” “Might also have been to keep Dash from snapping.” “No, that almost happened anyway.” Clagan paused, “Although to be fair I think I deserved it.” “What did she do?” “…Well first she threatened to stab me with a fork.” Clagan began. “You did what?” Turner hissed at Dash, “Where was I when you did that?” “Bathroom.” Dash grunted. “But then again, I accidently insulted her friend, Butterfly.” Clagan conceded. “Fluttershy,” Firefly corrected, “They’re close, almost like sisters.” “Yes, well…I know that now.” Clagan paused, “How did your first meeting with Time Turner go?” “Good. For starters our house is treated so he didn’t fall through.” “…He went to Cloudsdale.” “We live there and Streak likes cooking. Dash convinced him it was safe, so…” Firefly shrugged. “And?” “Everything went well.” Firefly shrugged again, “He likes Skyrosian food.” “That’s good.” The tension continued to build up as Clagan frowned. “Both your daughter and husband mentioned you could have joined the Wonderbolts,” Clagan continued on, “But here we are. Why?” “…Pour me a drink.” Clagan obliged, topping it off. Firefly downed it and slammed the glass on the table. “Once upon a time, there was a smart-ass filly who thought she was invincible. This meant she did a lot of stupid stunts, took stupid risk and all that stupid kid stuff.” Turner and Fortuna glanced at Dash. The pegasus glared back. “So one day she decided she’s going to try and make a tornado, just to prove she could. And you know what? She did.” Firefly refilled and drained her glass before continuing, “And I had to save her. She had lost control of the tornado and had gotten stuck, so I had no choice but to dive in and get her. Tore up my wings pretty badly. Doctors said they’d heal alright, but I’d never be able to hit my old speeds again. Can’t do stunt flying either, just the basics.” “…I had no idea your daughter was s-” “It wasn’t Dash,” Firefly cut him off, “This was before she was born. Hell, it was before I got married. That stupid kid’s name was Spitfire.” The room grew silent again as Firefly pushed her glass away. “No more.” “I had no idea. I apologize, I was rather hasty in judging you,” Clagan paused, “I suppose this is going to be an interesting relationship.” “I guess.” Firefly shrugged, “Although ain’t it tradition for in-laws to sort of hate one another?” “Hardly.” Clagan paused again, “Fortuna, I know the three of you are listening in from the kitchen.” “Streak, you might as well come in,” Firefly called out, “You have a shy bladder, but it’s not that shy.” Bluestreak pushed the door open and blushed as he took his seat, “I didn’t want to interrupt.” The kitchen door swung open as Fortuna brought out a heavy pot and several bowls. Dash and Turner followed and quietly retook their seats. “It’s good to see that the two of you are at least trying to be friendly now,” Fortuna beamed. “Well, I still have one question for him.” Firefly turned her attention back to Clagan. “What’s the difference between whisky and whiskey-with-an-e?” “Virtually nothing,” Clagan chuckled, “Only Equestria uses the ‘e’ spelling, and it’s only called Bourbon if it’s made in certain regions of Eastern Equestria.” “So all that whiskey-whisky stuff was just you being a dick?” Firefly grumbled. “Basically.” Clagan shrugged. “I think they’re starting to get along,” Time Turner whispered to Dash. “Seems like it.” “Well then,” Clagan held up his glass, “To the future.” “I can get behind that, Streak pour me some more,” Firefly nudged Bluestreak while Fortuna levitated her own glass.” “Don’t you think you’ve had enough?” he frowned. “Last one, I promise.” “Alright then,” Bluestreak refilled his wife’s glass as Time Turner and Rainbow Dash raised their own. “Salut!”
What would Jimmy Buffett Do?Dash landed on a cloud and grinned at the scene in front of her: Cloudsdale bustled with activity as the factory shut down for the day. The mare passed several fillies and colts on their way back from flight school and stopped at the front door of a small, house. Dash pushed the door in, and entered. “Mom? Dad?” Dash called out, “You guys home? I got your letter.” An older stallion peeked out of the kitchen and smiled. The blue pegasus trotted out of the kitchen, his dulling rainbow mane tied back. “Hey Dashie,” he chuckled, “Early for once.” “Dad…” Dash sighed, “It’s my day off.” “Because you came in late, or an actual day off?” He chuckled again. “Dad, I don’t care what Fog Gun says, I don’t come to work that hungover.” “Kid, all I can say is you got my awesomeness and Streak’s alcohol tolerance.” Another voice responded from behind Dash. She spun around coming face to face with a pegasus mare: pink coat, wild blue mane and the same cocky smile Dash wore. “It’s not that bad, mom.” Dash rolled her eyes as the mare walked pass. “Kid, the first time I went drinking with your dad, he got hammered off of one Long Island Ice Tea.” “You told me it wasn’t alcoholic, Firefly.” He shook his head. “Yeah, yeah, keep making up excuses.” Firefly trotted into the kitchen and opened the refrigerator, “Want a beer, kid?” “Yeah, sure mom.” Dash replied, plopping down on the sofa. Firefly returned carrying two bottles and tossed one at Dash. She caught it and took a swing of beer. “So how’s Turner?” Firefly asked, “You put in the cloudwalkin’ seal for him? Because I gotta tell ya, I told that story to Wind Whistler and she thought it was hilarious.” “I got it done the day after,” Dash grumbled. “It’s one of the sacrifices you gotta make when you date an earth pony.” Firefly shrugged, “Besides, embarrassing date stories are important. You can tell’m to your kids or at family gatherings and stuff.” “More seriously,” Dash’s father interrupted, “How is he?” “He’s fine. Got some business back so he couldn’t come with me.” “Business about what?” “Pinkie made a bunch of duplicates of herself and they caused trouble, so he had to kind off take care of the repair budget.” Dash took a swing of beer. “…Kid, Pinkie is messed up.” Firefly paused, “I know she’s your friend and all, but this is bullsh-” “Oh, that’s right.” Dash’s father interrupted, “Heard about the stunt you pulled off at the Academy.” “…Time Turner nearly got killed.” Dash muttered. “Well…” He paused, “Yeah.” “Kid, love makes you do stupid ass things,” Firefly took a swing of her beer, “You shoulda kicked Lightning Dust’s ass for doing stupid shit like that.” “She can’t blow her chance by letting her emotions get the better of her, Fly.” Dash’s father countered. “Streak, sometimes you’re gonna find out that there are circumstances where it’s alright to kick the crap out of someone.” Firefly paused, “I mean, I was in Dash’s position and it was you, I know I would.” “Yeah, well…Soarin was there too.” Dash paused, “He’s dating Rarity.” “Isn’t she your age?” “She’s like six years older than me, dad.” Dash paused, “Soarin’s like eight years older than me.” “Hm.” Her father went back to cooking, “Well, at least the tabloids haven’t gotten to it yet.” “They try to keep it low on the radar,” Dash emptied her bottle, “Not good for either of them.” “Yeah, well…” Firefly drained her beer, “She’s lucky.” “You think so?” Streak asked, “There’s always a downside to dating celebrities.” “How would you know?” Firefly countered. “I dated you in high school remember?” Streak shrugged, “What’s that song? She wears high heels, I wear sneakers/ she’s Cheer captain and I’m on the bleachers.” Dash stared at her father in disbelief “…Dad, are you quoting a Swift Tail song?” “Why not? It’s catchy.” “Forget it kid,” Firefly shook her head, “Most midlife crisis involves younger girls and ridiculous expensive crap. Your Dad’s midlife crisis means listening to bubblegum pop crap that’s meant for teenaged girls.” “Dinner’s ready, you two.” Streak ignored her. The two mares flittered into the dining room. They settled at the table as Dash’s father placed a large pot on the table, and ladled out its contents. “…Ok, what’s going on?” Dash asked. “What do you mean?” Firefly asked. “You guys invite me home to talk about something and now you’re making Borsch,” Dash paused, “You only do that when you got important things to tell me.” “…Well…” Streak paused, “We do like Time Turner. He’s abit…” “Scatterebrained.” Firefly interrupted. “Your mother’s words, not mine.” Streak quickly clarified, “And…well…” Dash’s face froze in horror. “Oh Celestia, you want to meet his parents.” “Basically.” Streak shrugged. “Kid, if you want to make little flying babies with him, I want to know who the other grandparents will be,” Firefly dumped dried dill and chopped tomatoes onto her borsch. “…Turner’s parents are…Interesting.” Dash admitted, “I…I guess I can talk to him about it.” “Good,” Firefly shoved a spoonful of borsch into her mouth, “What kind of beer they do like?” “They’re more of wine ponies.” “What?!?” Firefly dropped her spoon, “Wine? Who wants to drink that stuff?” “…This is going to be interesting,” Streak sighed, pouring more sour cream into his borsch. --- Time Turner tucked the last of his papers into the manila folder and placed it in the drawer. Satisfied, he trotted over to the door and left the room. “Drinking again?” Raven asked, not looking up from her paper work. “Dash wanted to talk to me about something.” “Couldn’t you just meet at her place?” “After I nearly fell to death?” Turner shook his head, “No.” “And your place?” Raven continued on. “We like meeting at the bar.” “And I’m sure Berry like it too.” Raven muttered. “What was that?” “Nothing. Have fun drinking.” “Raven, one of these days, you need to go and loosen up a bit.” “Turner, I cover for the mayor and you. Someone has to be the serious one.” Raven muttered as he left. Turner continued down the road, heading towards the bar. “Hey Turner.” Somepony called out to him. Turner turned to see Big Macintosh and Cloudchaser. “Oh, Hello Mac, Hello Cloudchaser.” “Going to the bar with Dash tonight?” Cloudchaser chuckled. “…We don’t always go to the bar.” He muttered. “It’s Tuesday, of course you’re going.” The pegasus jokingly retorted, “Anyway, have a good time. Don’t get blackout drunk.” Turner rolled his eyes and walked off. He continued down the street, before finally coming up to Berry’s. He entered the bar and looked around: Dash sat at the bar, nursing a mug of something frothy and pale. To her left sat a chatty older unicorn: light brown mane, grey amber coat and a cutie mark in the form of a simple roulette wheel and a coin. “So anyway…” the older mare trailed off as she noticed Time Turner, “Oh there he is.” “Hello mother.” Time Turner sighed as he went over to the bar and took the seat next to Dash, “What brings you to Ponyville.” “I just felt like visiting my favorite son,” Turner’s mother placed her wine flute back onto the counter top, “Another.” “I’m your only son.” He sighed as Berry poured out wine, “The usual, Berry.” “Out of stout.” Berry’s muffled reply came, “Some accident with my supplier.” “Gin and tonic then.” “You know I don’t approve of gin.” His mother shook her head. “Mother, that was years ago. Before I knew my limits.” “What happened?” Dash perked up alittle, taking a swing of her ale. “He got into the gin and then the whisky.” His mother paused, taking another sip, “We found him hanging out one of the windows, trying not to throw up.” “…Better than mine.” Dash grumbled, “I don’t remember what I did, but my mom said they found me sleeping with my head in the toilet.” “As fascinating as this conversation is,” Berry interrupted placing the glass in front of Time Turner, “I don’t think this is something I want to hear.” “Sorry.” Turner took a swing of his own drink, “Something’s on your mind, Dash.” “What makes you say that?” “You’re less chatty than normal.” Turner retorted. “Well…” Dash paused. “Ah! I knew something was wrong.” Turner’s mother smiled, “Could I get an Aqua Velva?” “Gimme a moment,” Berry trotted off. “Well…” Dash looked at Turner as he took another sip of his drink. “My parents want to meet your parents.” Turner’s eyes bulged and he spat out his drink, dousing the unfortunate Berry in it. The bartender frowned as the gin dripped down her mane. “Pay your tab. Tonight.” Berry grumbled, as she trotted off in search of water and a mop. “I wouldn’t mind meeting them,” Time Turner’s mother broke the awkward moment, “I’m sure your father would too.” “Mother, Dad is…how do I put it nicely, never happy to do anything except grumble and stare at you with contempt.” “He’s your father, he always looks at people that way.” She turned her attention back to Dash, “Do they have any idea where they would like to meet?” “Dad said it would probably be better if it was somewhere on the ground,” Dash paused, “Outside of my great-aunt Rainbow, we don’t have a lot of earth ponies or unicorns in the family.” “Excellent! I’ll talk to Clagan, It can be at our house,” she paused again, “Hopefully they don’t mind, it’s a bit…well, nicer than what most ponies have.” “I’m sure they won’t.” Dash flashed a faked smile as Berry came back, mop in hoof. The mare held it out at Time Turner. “Clean up your mess.” Time Turner trotted around the bar and took the mop from the still grumpy mare. Berry set to work behind the bar and delivered an Aqua Velva to Turner’s mother. The giddy mare ignored it as she continued to prattle off about her preparations for the upcoming event. “Dash, do your parents know what they’re getting into?” Turner grumbled, “I mean, you’ve met my father and I’ve met your parents and well…” He shrugged, “I don’t think it’s going to work out too well.” “Turner, I don’t think anyone knows what they’re getting into.”
HappyRainbow Dash and her parents flew through the sky. Firefly’s saddlebags bulged out and glass clinked together with every flap of her wings, while steam rose out of Streak’s bag. Dash turned her head, looking at her parents. “Remember, I like this guy. Don’t do anything stupid.” “I think it’ll go fine, Dashie.” Streak chuckled, “I hope we get there soon, I don’t want this end up warm.” “Kid, I don’t do stupid,” Firefly grumbled, “Hope they like Bourbon.” “Well…His mom likes cocktails,” Dash responded, “Like the really fruity, umbrella-y kind.” “What about his dad?” “I don’t know.” Dash shrugged, “I didn’t see him drink anything when I was at their house.” “…He’s not a teetotaler is he?” “No.” “Hell, then wh-” “…Dashie, are we almost there?” Streak interrupted Firefly’s response. “Yeah we’re almost there.” Dash turned her attention back to her surroundings. --- Time Turner slouched on the sofa before glancing up at the grandfather clock. “Not time yet,” He muttered to himself. “Sit up straight. And cease mumbling,” a stern, older voice ordered. Time Turner straightened out before looking behind him. An older earth stallion with a graying mane and dark brown coat frowned back. The older stallion trotted past Turner, revealing his cutie mark: an antique clock. “You never told me anything about Rainbow Dash’s parents,” he paused, “What is her father like?” “Bluestreak? Well… he’s…He’s a teacher.” “What does he teach?” “…Art?” “Hrmph.” The older stallion looked up at the clock again, “And her mother?” “Firefly is… an instructor.” “Both her parents are teachers?” “Sort of.” Time Turner paused “Which is it?” He snapped, “Either they both are or they are not.” “Dear, calm down.” Turner’s mother appeared bottle of wine in her aura, “I’m sure he has an explanation.” “She teaches at the Flight Academy,” Turner continued on, “She’s apparently was Wonderbolt material.” “And she’s teaching foals.” His father’s frown grew, “Hrmph.” --- “Kid, I know you told me they had money, but I wasn’t expecting this.” Firefly looked up at the home: two stories and spacious. Well-cared for and carefully maintained hedges lined the home and walkways, and a small flower garden sat at the side. “…Shit, I knew I should have gone with the more expensive bourbon.” She muttered, “Do they have a wine cellar?” “Mom, the last thing I need is for them to think you’re some sort of drunken lunatic.” “I take offense to the lunatic part.” Firefly grumbled. “Can we just go inside?” Streak interrupted Dash’s response, “I think being prudent would be a good thing to establish.” “Whatever.” Firefly rolled her eyes. The family trotted towards the front door and stopped. “Wow, they even got one of those little ‘Welcome please wipe hooves before entering’ mats.” Firefly looked down, “I thought those things were made-up.” “We live on clouds, we don’t usually track dirt everywhere,” Streak paused, “Although there was that one time when you let Dashie track the liquid rainbow everywhere.” “How was I supposed to know she tried bringing it home?” Firefly grumbled, “Who looks inside a Wonderbolt’s thermos when their kid comes home?” “You didn’t notice it leaking everywhere?” “Guys, can we not do this right now?” Dash asked, “Please act normal, this is the guy I like. Last thing I want his is parents to hate you.” Dash reached up and grabbed the door knocker, pounding it against the door a few times. Inside, Time Tuner perked up, and got off the couch. “Let me greet them,” Time Turner asked, “That way we can figure out how to do this.” “Hrmph.” Turner’s father grunted and trotted off. “Of course, dear.” Turner’s mother took a seat on the couch as searched for wine glasses. Turner walked down the hallway, pausing at the front door. As a second round of impatient knocking began, Turner opened the door. Dash flashed a smile before leaning over and giving the stallion a peck on the cheek. “Hey Turner, we’re not late are we?” “Hardly. Mother is working on getting the wine ready, while father is…” Turner trailed off and shrugged. “Hello Firefly, Bluestreak.” “Hey kid,” Firefly motioned to her saddlebag, “I brought bourbon, shoulda asked Dash first if your folks drink that stuff.” “Mother only drinks it if it’s mixed and Father prefers Whisky.” “…Well, too bad.” Firefly shrugged, “More for me.” Turner trotted back inside, followed by Dash. Firefly and Bluestreak lagged behind. “Firefly, please don’t do anything stupid,” Bluestreak paused, “I want this to go better than when my parents met you.” “That went fine.” Firefly grumbled “Says you.” “Look at this place.” Firefly ignored him, and motioned at the hallway: portraits of Time Turner and his parents sat on the walls showcasing various points of the stallion’s life. She paused on the last picture: a photo of Time Turner and Dash sitting at a fancy restaurant beaming at the camera. “They look happy in this one.” She pointed it out to Bluestreak. “I don’t have to look a picture to know my daughter’s happy.” He paused, “So I know that we shouldn’t screw this up.” “…Yeah.” “Hello again, Dash.” Time Turner’s Mother beamed at the pegasus as she entered the room, “Where are your parents?” “They’re…” Dash motioned towards her parents as they stepped out of the hallway and into the room, “Here.” “Hello there!” Time Turner’s Mother trotted over to Firefly and held out a hoof, “Fortuna.” “Firefly.” She took the offered hoof and shook. Bluestreak offered Fortuna his hoof. “I’m Bluestreak, Dash’s Fa-” he trailed off as Fortuna gave him a quick peck on the cheek. Bluestreak blushed as both Rainbow Dash and Time Turner slapped their foreheads and Firefly frowned. “Sorry,” Fortuna giggled, “habit of mine.” “Well, anyway,” Bluestreak coughed, “I brought moustalevria.” “I’m not familiar with what that is.” “Ah, it’s sort of like custard made with flour and grape must. My brother owns a Mavro Nimbus vineyard and makes wine,” Bluestreak paused, “Dashie, did we grab a bottle of wine from Uncle Smokescreen’s vineyard?” “Yeah, I got it.” Dash pulled the bottle from her bag, “Might have gotten a bit shaken up from the flight.” “Anyway, as I was saying, it’s quite good.” Bluestreak turned his attention back to Fortuna, “But it needs to stay chilled.” “Ah, please let me take it,” Fortuna’s aura opened Bluestreak’s saddle and pulled out a plastic container. She motioned for the two to sit, “Please, make yourselves at home, have some wine.” Fortuna left the room as Firefly placed the bottle of Bourbon on the table. Dash and Turner sat next to each other as Bluestreak hung up their saddle bags. Biting at the top of the bourbon, Firefly eventually pried the cap off and looked around the room. “Turner, you got any tumblers?” “In the other room,” the stallion got back to his hooves. Dash followed him getting off of the couch. “I’m gonna get some water. Don’t feel like drinking yet.” The two left the room as Bluestreak picked up the bottle of wine Fortuna had left and looked at the label. “Hey, this is from Smoke’s vineyard.” Bluestreak chuckled, “Looks like he’s doing pretty well.” Bluestreak poured some of the wine out into a wine glass as Time Turner’s father entered the room. The three paused, staring at each other. The edge of Time Turner’s father’s mouth twitched slightly as Firefly’s frown grew. Bluestreak placed the wine bottle down before standing up and trotting over. “You must be Turner’s father,” Bluestreak held out a hoof, “I’m Dash’s dad, Bluestreak.” “Clagan.” The stallion ignored the offered hoof and sat down. Bluestreak blinked before sitting back down as Firefly’s frown grew larger. “Firefly. Dash’s mom,” she motioned to the bourbon, “Bourbon?” “Is it whisky?” Clagan asked. “Bourbon Whiskey.” “Is it Whiskey or whisky?” Clagan asked again. “What’s the difference?” “Whisky is worth drinking. Whiskey with an ‘e’ isn’t. Clagan picked up the bottle, “Hrm.” “…Bourbon’s Bourbon. Who cares how it’s spelt?” “…Whiskey and whisky are very serious business. Not that I expect someone who likes cheap liquor to understand.” “Settle down, fly.” Bluestreak grunted as he jabbed his elbow into her side, “don’t do something stupid.” “I won’t if he doesn’t make me.” “Oh good!” Fortuna returned, beaming, “You’ve met my husband. Where did Turner and Dash go?” “They went to get some glasses for the bourbon,” Bluestreak replied, “I’m sorry to ask, but where is the bathroom?” “Down the hall, second door to the left.” “Thanks.” Bluestreak got up leaving Firefly alone. --- “Dash, are you sure you want to leave your mom in there with my father?” Turner asked as he opened a cabinet door and pulled out the glasses. “Yeah, why?” Dash asked, taking them from him. “Because…well, it’s your mom and it’s my father.” He closed the cabinet, “You know he’s a grumpy killjoy, and your mom is…shall we say short tempered?” Dash paused, nearly dropping the glasses. “Oh. Right.” She paused again as Turner stared at her, eyebrow raised. “…Well, I don’t hear yelling, so it should be fine.”
The Waiting World“So…Firefly,” Fortuna broke the silence, “Dash and Turner tell us you work at the flight school?” “Huh? Oh, right.” Firefly shrugged, “Yeah.” “It must be so rewarding, working with such promising young fliers.” “Well…” Firefly shrugged again, “Mixed bag. Some of the kids are pretty good, some are pretty rough, and some are pretty hopeless.” “That’s a rather strong word to use, isn’t it?” Clagan interrupted. “Look, Everyone’s dream is to be a Wonderbolt, or part of the Royal Guard or whatever nonsense, right?” Firefly shook her head, “Not everyone can be, some folks do well enough to work in the rainbow factory, or snow makers or whatever. And then the kids who aren’t any good at flying…Well…” “He also mentioned you were almost part of the Wonderbolts yourself,” Clagan continued on. “Yeah. Almost made it.” Firefly sighed, “I don’t really want to talk about that, alright?” “Yes, dear,” Fortuna added, “something like that sounds like such a sensitive topic.” Before Clagan count respond, Dash and Time Turner returned with a tray of glass tumblers and ice. “Sorry, back mom. Brought ice incase you wanted some.” Dash flashed a grin as she sat back down. Turner also sat down, next to his mother. Firefly quickly dropped a few cubes of ice into a glass before topping it off with bourbon and taking a drink. “It’s good bourbon, you sure you don’t want any?” Firefly asked as Dash filled up her own glass. “I’ll stick to wine, thank you.” Fortuna lifted her own glass. “I’m not going to drink anything,” Turner chuckled. “I think I will help myself to some wine. I prefer whisky, but it appears we don’t have any.” Firefly scowled as the stallion poured a glass of wine. Dash jabbed her elbow into her mother’s ribs. “He’s doing it on purpose,” Dash hissed, “don’t let him get to you.” “Trying, kid.” She hissed back. Bluestreak trotted back into the room, sitting down next to Dash. “You have a very nice bathroom, are the counters slate or marble?” “Slate.” Fortuna responded. “Do you mind if I have some wine?” Bluestreak continued on. “Of course not, go ahead.” “Can’t help but notice that it came from Mesmerican vineyards,” Bluestreak continued, “Do you normally buy their wine or was this a gift?” “It’s a nice vineyard,” Fortuna took a sip from her glass, “It has that slight acidic flavor.” “My younger brother owns the vineyard,” Bluestreak chuckled. “You never told us that, Dashie.” Fortuna looked at the mare. Dash paused, bourbon halfway to her mouth. “Well…I didn’t think Uncle Smoke was that important to talk about,” Dash shrugged, “Beside I don’t drink wine, so I didn’t know what his grape thing was called anyway.” “Hrmph.” Clagan frowned, “Turner said that you are a teacher.” “Well…sort of.” Bluestreak paused, “I’m a historian.” “What era?” Clagan continued on. “Well I’m mostly focused on the Ancient Pegasi City states in the period before they’re united by Commander Hurricane.” “Ah.” Clagan paused, “Turner said you taught art.” “I dabble in art history too.” Bluestreak shrugged, “Mostly Dada.” “Pre or post Great Griffon War?” “Pre.” “Well that can’t be much of a history,” Clagan scoffed. “I disagree. There’s certainly very Dada aspects to the Anti-Art movement before the war.” Bluestreak countered. “Yes, but Dadaism isn’t well established until the war was well into the third year of the war.” Clagan retorted, “Obviously anything in the prewar situation that was remotely similar to Dada would retroactively become Dada.” “That’s where I disagree,” Bluestreak put his wine glass down, “See, if we want to argue Modern and Post-Modern, we have to take the pre-war situation into account. What passes off as Modern in the Griffon Empire is different than what the French or Ibexians consider Modern.” “Hardly.” Clagan scoffed. The two continued a lively, animated conversation as Firefly rolled her eyes and drained her glass. “Why don’t we go to the next room, so they can keep talking?” Fortuna suggested. “Yeah, whatever.” Firefly shrugged as she picked up the bottle of Bourbon. Fortuna’s aura plucked her own glass off the table, “Turner, Rainbow, would you mind getting dinner set up?” “No, we can do it.” Dash cut off Time Turner’s response. “Thank you dearie.” The two mothers left the room, while Bluestreak and Clagan continued to argue. Dash and Turner got up and returned to the kitchen. “Did she mention what you guys were serving?” Dash asked. “Why did you tell her that we’d set it up?” Turner ignored her question. “You really want to be in the same room with mom stories?” Dash countered, “I nearly fell asleep listening to Dad talk about Dodo.” “Dada” “Whatever,” Dash waved the thought away, “The point is; now we don’t have to listen.” “You really think your mom is going to tell embarrassing stories about you?” “It’s what parents do.” “So then, Firefly, how did you meet Bluestreak?” Fortuna asked, refilling her wine glass. “High School.” “Oh, High School sweethearts? How romantic.” “Yeah, it’s like one of those cheesy romance novels, with the tomboy and the shy, quiet guy,” Firefly drained her glass, “I hate those. Bluestreak likes them though.” “Really?” Fortuna chuckled as she poured herself another glass of wine, “I wouldn’t have guessed.” “How did you two meet?” Firefly changed the subject, “I mean he’s…” “Grumpy and conceited?” “I was gonna say-” “Asshole?” “Well…”Firefly trailed off, “Yeah.” “I’ve heard it plenty of times,” Fortuna smiled, “Why, the first time I met him, I slapped him.” “I can’t imagine why.” Firefly grumbled, taking another swing of her drink. “He can’t help it, it was part of his upbringing,” Fortuna paused, “His parents were both rather harsh on him.” “That doesn’t really excuse anything,” Firefly mumbled as she looked down at her glass, avoiding eye contact. “…True.” Fortuna shrugged, “Please be patient with him though, he takes time to warm up to people.” “…What do you think of my daughter?” the pegasus abruptly changed the subject, taking Fortuna back. “I beg your pardon?” “Dash.” Firefly turned her attention away from her alcohol and towards Fortuna, “what do you think about her?” “What the heck is this stuff?” Dash frowned. “Pitepalt. Sort of a dumpling, stuffed with onions, barley and some spices.” Turner began setting the table, placing several plates and utensils out. “And this thing?” Dash opened a jar of a reddish jelly “Lingonberry jam.” “And this one?” Dash lifted the lid off a pot on the stove, “its soup.” “Artsoppa, Yellow Pea Soup.” “And these roll looking things?” Dash lifted the lid off a large sauce pan, revealing it to be filled with rolls of cabbage, smothered a light grey sauce. “Kaldolmar in onion-butter gravy.” “A kaleidoscope?” “Kaldolmar. Rice and some other vegetables wrapped in cabbage.” Turner replied. “Why didn’t you just call it cabbage rolls?” Dash rolled her eyes as she began to spoon the rolls into a serving platter. “Because Cabbage rolls are part of a lot of different cultures, and this is a specific type. For reasons I’ve never really understood, my mother is very found of Gotlandish cuisine.” “Isn’t it all smorgasbords and ABBA?” Dash frowned. “ABBA is a musical group, not a food.” Time Turner paused, “How do you know ABBA?” “Dad dragged me to that musical about them. Mom was sick, so she made me go.” “Mama Mia?” Time Turner asked, baffled. “That was it,” Dash paused, “He likes the band.” “Dash is…” Fortuna paused, “Please don’t tell my husband this, but Dash is his worst nightmare. She’s the last sort of mare that my husband expected Turner to fall in love with.” “Really.” “My husband expected him to find a more…shall we say submissive mare? The first time we met her, Turner admitted he was expecting a fight to break out.” Fortuna paused, “It nearly did, for the record. I imagine she omitted that when she retold this to you.” “She mentioned it.” “Well…He’s warming up to her. He admitted she’s strong willed, and loyal. There are some things he still doesn’t like about her, but he’ll just have to get use to them.” “That’s nice, but it’s not answering my question,” Firefly paused, “What do you think about her?” “I like her. She’s not afraid to speak her mind, she’s protective, and she’s quick to rush in to defend her friends and lovers, and always does what’s necessary.” Fortuna took a sip of her wine, “That said, she’s impulsive and doesn’t always think things through. She can be lazy, but ponies can change. Did she actually drop out of Flight School?” “Yes. She got picked up by the Weather Team pretty quickly, so she got a lot of hooves-on work experience. She could probably go back and finish things up easily, tends to happen when you are Wonderbolt material.” Firefly shrugged. “And what do you think about Turner?” Fortuna asked. “Reminds me of Bluestreak when we started dating. Awkward, dorky, clumsy, but he’s got a good head and a good heart.” “…Well, I think we should check on the two of them, see how dinner is coming along.” Fortuna stood up, “if I drink any more I might be too drunk to enjoy it. Have you ever had Gotlandish cuisine?” “It’s all smorgasbords and ABBA, isn’t it?” Firefly drained her glass and slammed it on the table.
Bad and Beautiful and Free“So that’s basically my opinion on the subject,” Bluestreak concluded. “It’s a very unorthodox approach.” Clagan continued on, “What do your colleagues have to say on the matter?” “Well, Professor Bitterbill covers the modern era, so he’s a bit more critical of my interpretation of Modernism.” “Hrm. A Griffon?” “Yes, but his specialty is Rus history,” Bluestreak paused, “It’s quite interesting.” “I would imagine so.” “But onto another topic, what do you and your wife do for a living?” “I’m a lawyer.” Clagan stated. “…Somehow I expected that.” “Fortuna works as a secretary. It’s not entirely necessary, but she was adamant about being more than just a housewife.” “Ah. Getting out and interacting with other ponies is always good.” Bluestreak refilled his glass, “Top yours off?” “No, I think that’s enough for now.” Clagan paused, “Fortuna had made Gotlandish dishes tonight.” “Beetballs?” “No, stuffed cabbage, pea soup, that sort of thing.” Clagan waved a hoof, “She likes it.” “Well…I’m sure it will be good. Usually I just cook Skyrosian. My mother owned a small little restaurant in Cloudsdale, so I grew up helping her.” “Hrmh. And you went into education over culinary school.” “Cooking is a hobby. Teaching and learning was a passion,” Bluestreak paused, “I have a wonderful student named Beachcomber who loves art history.” “And yet you let your own daughter drop out of flight school.” “We…” Bluestreak paused, “Dash is smart. She’s just not book smart. She passed all her physical test and most of the written ones…She has a good job as weather manager, she got a lot of on the job training with Fog Gun.” “I suppose it’s not that difficult.” “Weather is actually much more difficult to deal with than you think,” Bluestreak chuckled, “The difference between a gentle shower and a hurricane comes down to experience.” “..And she still expects to join the Wonderbolts with just ‘experience’?” “She got accepted to the academy. She’s one of the better recruits.” “And the history exam?” Clagan continued on, “Has she thought about how she will deal with that?” Bluestreak paused, “As much as I hate to use the phrase, we’ll burn that bridge when we get to it. She has very good friends, Twilight Sparkle is Princess Celestia’s prized student, after all.” “Being a student is one thing. Being a teacher is another, is it not?” “…True.” Bluestreak shrugged, “I met her once, she seems to be very smart, but not so good with other ponies.” “I would hardly know.” The two fell silent again as Bluestreak refilled his glass. “I like Rainbow,” Clagan paused, “Time Turner and Fortuna both think that I don’t like her. Some nonsense about how the only mares I like are submissive and quiet. She’s strong willed, unafraid to speak her mind, and most importantly, loyal.” “Well, she is the Element of Loyalty after all.” “It’s a very good trait. The world and times are changing and they need to make it theirs.” Clagan paused, “I’ll be dead soon enough.” “That’s a rather pessimistic way of looking at it, isn’t it? “Hardly. I have a well-paying job. I’m married. I have a son who has a decent job and is likely to become mayor in the future. He has a marefriend. All that’s left are the wedding and the grandson.” “Child.” Bluestreak chuckled. “What?” “Grandchild.” Bluestreak chuckled, “No guarantees about if it’s a boy or a girl.” “It should be a boy.” Clagan huffed. “I think that should be left to the two of them.” “Hrmph.” “I like Turner if that’s what you’re going to ask next.” Bluestreak ignored Clagan, “He reminds me of myself at that age.” “…” “And Dash is certainly her mother’s child,” Bluestreak paused, “…They say the quote “History Repeats” is bunk, but it certainly does a good job of déjà vu.” “Hrpmh. Bright Spear claims that that’s the problem with history.” “Of course. He’s a lawyer too.” Bluestreak chuckled, “Red Banner called it a Farce and then a tragedy.” “Of course the revolutionary would.” Clagan scoffed. “How did you meet your wife anyway? She’s so…” “Some would say ‘Opposites attract’, but that’s not really true.” Clagan paused, “I met her at a friend’s get-together. Needless to say, I left that party with a red cheek.” “…This sounds like a really bad romance novel.” Bluestreak shook his head. “It was.” Clagan sighed, “My parents did not like her, but I didn’t care at that point. I did tell myself I would never be like them and,” he paused again, “Here we are.” “I think the important thing is that they’re happy.” “True.” “Also, please try not to antagonize Fly too much,” Bluestreak placed his drink down, “She gets punchy.” “ ‘Punchy’.” “Yes. She once knocked out a Royal Guard because he was giving her a hard time,” he paused, “Fortunately, the charges were dropped.” “…Hrm.” Time Turner popped his head into the room, cutting off the rest of Clagan’s response, “Dinner is ready.” He informed the two before vanishing again. “Well then, I hope you don’t mind Gotlandish.” Clagan stood up. “It’s nice to try new things.” Bluestreak stood up, “I’ll be there in abit, I need to use the bathroom.” Clagan trotted off as Bluestreak headed back to the bathroom. “He seems nice enough,” Clagan mused, “Rainbow Dash obviously takes after her mother.” Clagan entered the dinning room; Fortuna continued to cheerfully chat, while Firefly sat across of her and ignored her in favor of her drink. Dash and Turner continued to set the table as Clagan took his seat next to Fortuna. “Bluestreak is in the restroom, but I think we can wait for him.” “He has a weird bladder,” Firefly grumbled, “Talking to people makes him nervous.” “Hrmph.” Clagan paused, “What’s that smell?” “What?” Time Turner and Dash paused, sniffing the air. Dash’s eyes suddenly widened as realization hit. “Oh shit, the arksloppa!” She spun around and zoomed back into the kitchen as Time Turner followed her. The door slammed open and then slammed shut. “…I think I’m going to check on them.” Fortuna stood up, and followed the two into the kitchen. As she opened the door, smoke began to pour into the dining room and snippets of an argument could be heard. “…I thought it was supposed to be served cold!” Time Turner protested. “It’s Scandinavian! Everything there is ice and snow and stuff! Who wants to eat cold soup there?” Dash countered, “I thought you were keeping an eye on it!” Turner’s response was cut off as the door closed, leaving Firefly and Clagan in the dining room alone. “…So then,” Firefly sat back up, ignoring her glass, “I guess we should bite the bullet and talk.”
Well, what the hell.“So then,” Firefly trailed off, “I’m sure Streak had a lot to say.” “He did. I am sure Fortuna had plenty to say as well.” “Yep.” “Not all of it was good, of course.” Clagan chuckled. “Nope.” “You sound like an Apple,” Clagan scoffed at the memory of his client, “He was infuriating to speak with.” “I can imagine, Dash complains about her friend Applejack,” Firefly rolled her eyes, “Competitive.” “I would assume that she is friends with her fellow Elements.” Clagan paused, “That came out more mean spirited than intended.” “Really?” Firefly snapped back. “You do realize first impressions work both ways, yes?” Clagan continued on, “It seems that neither of us are doing a particularly good job here.” Firefly paused. Her mouth twitched slightly as she silently agreed. “So let us try this again,” Clagan cleared his throat, “I am Clagan, Time Turner’s father.” “Firefly. Dash’s mom. I’m not related to the one that founded the Wonderbolts,” she continued on, “My parents just named me after her.” “Ah. I’ve noticed that sort of naming practice tends to repeat itself.” “Don’t get me started on that,” Firefly rolled her eyes, “I wanted to name her Venus, but Streak insisted on his great-Aunt.” Clagan frowned, anticipating Firefly to continue on. “He obviously won that argument.” Firefly shrugged. “Why Venus?” “I like the name.” The kitchen door creaked every so slightly more open as the three ponies pressed up against it, listening in. Dash and Turner frowned at the story, momentarily pulling away to keep their voices down. “See? Embarrassing stories.” Dash grumbled, tossing up her hooves in disgust. “…I don’t know, I think you could pull off being a Venus.” Turner shrugged. “Remind me to tell the story of how we almost named you Sprocket.” Fortuna chuckled as she motioned for them to return. “So then, obviously Turner has spoken to you and your husband about us?” Clagan continued on. “Some. He was the bigger problem at the time,” Firefly traced her hoof on the lip of her glass, “Who cares about the parents if you don’t like the kid?” “…Valid point.” “Did they tell you about the whole Hearts and Hooves Day thing?” Firefly refilled her glass. “What is she talking about?” Fortuna whispered. “You didn’t tell them?” Dash hissed. “Well, I try not to talk about the times I nearly died.” he countered. “What Hearts and Hooves Day thing?” Clagan inquired. A malicious smile crept onto Firefly’s face as she continued on. “Dash decided to make dinner for the two of them at her place.” “Well that’s a typical romantic ge…” Realization dawned on Clagan, “she lives in a cloudhouse, doesn’t she?” “Oh yeah.” “She did have them enchant her floors?” “She had some of them treated.” Firefly’s grin grew larger, “He found out the hard way.” Clagan began to massage his temples. Inside the kitchen, Fortuna stifled a laugh. “Excuse me for a moment.” the mare giggled as she left through another door. After several moments, muffled, uncontrollable laughter could be heard. “Called it.” Dash grumbled. “Well in absolute fairness, I didn’t expect your mother to tell one of the stories about how I almost died.” Turner snarked back. “Just hope she doesn’t talk about the next one.” Dash muttered. “I think one ‘Your son nearly died’ story is enough.” Firefly downed another shot of bourbon as Clagan continued to massage his head. “He’s her first coltfriend, she’s bound to screw up from time to time,” Firefly shrugged. “Screw-ups don’t usually kill ponies.” He countered. “I know.” Firefly shook her head, “She’s trying, though. To get better, not trying to kill him.” she quickly clarified. “I would hope.” “Can I ask you something?” Firefly continued on, “Dash mentioned she had met you, but she didn’t tell me how that went.” “…And you want to know how it went?” Clagan paused, “It went well. We met at a very nice restaurant, although I think it was because Fortuna and Turner didn’t want me to complain too much.” “Might also have been to keep Dash from snapping.” “No, that almost happened anyway.” Clagan paused, “Although to be fair I think I deserved it.” “What did she do?” “…Well first she threatened to stab me with a fork.” Clagan began. “You did what?” Turner hissed at Dash, “Where was I when you did that?” “Bathroom.” Dash grunted. “But then again, I accidently insulted her friend, Butterfly.” Clagan conceded. “Fluttershy,” Firefly corrected, “They’re close, almost like sisters.” “Yes, well…I know that now.” Clagan paused, “How did your first meeting with Time Turner go?” “Good. For starters our house is treated so he didn’t fall through.” “…He went to Cloudsdale.” “We live there and Streak likes cooking. Dash convinced him it was safe, so…” Firefly shrugged. “And?” “Everything went well.” Firefly shrugged again, “He likes Skyrosian food.” “That’s good.” The tension continued to build up as Clagan frowned. “Both your daughter and husband mentioned you could have joined the Wonderbolts,” Clagan continued on, “But here we are. Why?” “…Pour me a drink.” Clagan obliged, topping it off. Firefly downed it and slammed the glass on the table. “Once upon a time, there was a smart-ass filly who thought she was invincible. This meant she did a lot of stupid stunts, took stupid risk and all that stupid kid stuff.” Turner and Fortuna glanced at Dash. The pegasus glared back. “So one day she decided she’s going to try and make a tornado, just to prove she could. And you know what? She did.” Firefly refilled and drained her glass before continuing, “And I had to save her. She had lost control of the tornado and had gotten stuck, so I had no choice but to dive in and get her. Tore up my wings pretty badly. Doctors said they’d heal alright, but I’d never be able to hit my old speeds again. Can’t do stunt flying either, just the basics.” “…I had no idea your daughter was s-” “It wasn’t Dash,” Firefly cut him off, “This was before she was born. Hell, it was before I got married. That stupid kid’s name was Spitfire.” The room grew silent again as Firefly pushed her glass away. “No more.” “I had no idea. I apologize, I was rather hasty in judging you,” Clagan paused, “I suppose this is going to be an interesting relationship.” “I guess.” Firefly shrugged, “Although ain’t it tradition for in-laws to sort of hate one another?” “Hardly.” Clagan paused again, “Fortuna, I know the three of you are listening in from the kitchen.” “Streak, you might as well come in,” Firefly called out, “You have a shy bladder, but it’s not that shy.” Bluestreak pushed the door open and blushed as he took his seat, “I didn’t want to interrupt.” The kitchen door swung open as Fortuna brought out a heavy pot and several bowls. Dash and Turner followed and quietly retook their seats. “It’s good to see that the two of you are at least trying to be friendly now,” Fortuna beamed. “Well, I still have one question for him.” Firefly turned her attention back to Clagan. “What’s the difference between whisky and whiskey-with-an-e?” “Virtually nothing,” Clagan chuckled, “Only Equestria uses the ‘e’ spelling, and it’s only called Bourbon if it’s made in certain regions of Eastern Equestria.” “So all that whiskey-whisky stuff was just you being a dick?” Firefly grumbled. “Basically.” Clagan shrugged. “I think they’re starting to get along,” Time Turner whispered to Dash. “Seems like it.” “Well then,” Clagan held up his glass, “To the future.” “I can get behind that, Streak pour me some more,” Firefly nudged Bluestreak while Fortuna levitated her own glass.” “Don’t you think you’ve had enough?” he frowned. “Last one, I promise.” “Alright then,” Bluestreak refilled his wife’s glass as Time Turner and Rainbow Dash raised their own. “Salut!”
