Boundaries

by ZOMG

Rating: everyone
Tags: Spitfire, Drama, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Rainbow Dash, Romance
Length: 20691

There are certain rules every Wonderbolt has to follow so no pony can accuse them of cheating their way to the top, every prospect faces the same tests, regardless of who they are. Captain Spitfire seems eager to help Rainbow Dash along the way.

There are certain rules every Wonderbolt has to follow so no pony can accuse them of cheating their way to the top, every prospect faces the same tests and is expected to make it themselves. Fortunately, Captain Spitfire seems eager to help Rainbow achieve her dream and finally don the iconic blue and yellow of her heroes.

But come to think of it, why should Spitfire take that much of an interest in her?

Editing and prereading provided by Cryosite, Fahrenheit, Jondor, Melon Hunter, and Timaeus.

Special thanks to Fahrenheit for brainstorming with me!

Original artwork by yoonny92.

Published 2016-01-31 21:00:02 UTC
Last updated 2016-01-31 21:00:02 UTC

Chapter 2: Training

“You sure you don’t wanna take a break, Dash?” Twilight called from the finish line. “You’ve been at this for a while now!”

Though she gasped for breath, Rainbow shook her head. “Not… Not a chance!” she replied, her voice hoarse and throat stinging. “I can make this! What was my time on the last run?”

She watched Twilight heave a sigh and mumble something under her breath as she checked the stopwatch. “One minute, thirty-two seconds again, Dash! You were at thirty-one last time!”

A groan escaped her lips. “Oh, hit me with lightning! I’m going backwards!” She flopped onto the cloud and punched a hoof deep into the fluffy surface.

Spitfire’s stern frown came unbidden to the forefront of her mind. Sighing heavily, she reached into her uniform and pulled out her glasses, shaking her head as she slipped them over the bridge of her snout.

“Sorry, Dash. Looks like you’re still not ready. What a shame. Maybe next time, kid.”

Rainbow grit her teeth, grinding a hoof into the cloud base. “I’m going again!” she spat. “Reset the dang watch!”

The soft thudding of hooves made her ears flick. A hoof touched her back, right between her aching wings. “Rainbow, maybe we need to stop for a bit and let you take a breather,” Twilight said. “You’re doing well! Your control on your turns is getting much better!”

“Yeah. I know.” Rainbow sighed and pushed herself into a seated position. “Thanks, Twi. I just need to do it again. One more time, then I’ll take a break. I promise,” she added at the end, holding up a hoof to forestall an argument.

“Do you Pinkie Promise?” Pinkie’s voice asked from over her shoulder.

“Mother of Celestia!” Rainbow leapt into the air, her chest heaving. “Dang it, Pinkie Pie! You nearly gave me a heart attack!”

Pinkie giggled and fell back into the balloon basket, kicking her hooves in the air. “But I was right here the whole time, Dashie!”

By her side, Applejack and Rarity rolled their eyes and moved to avoid her hooves.

“You were a million miles away again, dear,” Rarity said. “Really, you’re doing well! But I fear you’re going to run yourself more ragged than Applejack during Applebuck Season. Er…” she trailed off, a sheepish grin crossed her muzzle. “No offense, Applejack.”

To her credit, Applejack just shrugged. “Can’t argue it. Look, Sugarcube, we’re all pullin’ for ya.” She stole a glance over the side of the basket to the marketplace below, where the townsponies watched Rainbow practice as they went about their day—a result of Mayor Mare’s special permission. “But ya can’t do your best if ya don’t stop to refill and breathe a little.”

“I said I would… after one more run.” Rainbow forced herself to stand, wincing at the ache in her legs. Really need to watch how I land, what’s up with me? “Okay, time me, Twi. I’m getting it back down to one thirty-one this time.”

Sighing, Twilight nodded and took the stopwatch in her magic. “Alright, I’ve got it reset. This time, try to watch your turn leading to that last ring. I think that’s slowing you down a little.”

Rainbow nodded and took a deep breath as she made her way to the line. “Yeah, I need to make it a little tighter. I’m still trying to blaze through the thing.”

She glanced over the course set before her, eyes flitting to each ring as she waited for Fluttershy and the Weather Team to finish reshaping and moving them back into place. Groaning, she brought a hoof to her forehead when she saw her friend’s work. “Fluttershy! I’m supposed to be flying through a ring! Not a cloud Angel Bunny!”

A sheepish grin crossed Fluttershy’s muzzle. She folded her hooves behind her back and, with a weak giggle, set about correcting her mistake. “Sorry, Rainbow Dash! I just thought you might like something cute to look at while you flew…”

“Just—” Rainbow bit her lip and took a deep breath. She waved her hoof. “Just leave it, Flutters. Thanks for helping.”

“O-Oh. Um, are you sure? I can change it back if you—”

“It’s cool. Gives me something to hit.” Before Fluttershy could question her, Rainbow crouched low. “Ready, Twi?”

Twilight nodded, trotting up to the line. “I’ve got it reset. On your mark…”

Her knees tensed up, ready to push off.

“Get set…”

Don’t start off blazing so fast I have to slow it down in the middle, she reminded herself. Try to use my momentum to carry me through the first few, then I can just zip through the middle portion.

“Go!”

With practiced ease, Rainbow Dash sprinted forward and kicked off the cloud base then pitched forward, diving low. She flared out her wings and pulled back, using gravity to give her the momentum needed to shoot off toward the first ring.

Her mane flowed with the wind, the friction ran down her sides as she banked right and upward to glide toward the second ring. The moment she was through, Rainbow hit a hard left, throwing all her weight into it so she could turn and loop through the third ring.

Keep it up! She looked out of the corner of her eye, sweeping wide after she passed through. She ignored every bit of her instinct telling her to flap to go faster. Don’t break form or you’ll lose all your speed! Keep to the game plan!

She had to make it to turn four, then get a few quick flaps in to pick up speed to carry through the more perilous turns five, six, and seven—each would come almost one after the other, even tighter than the first four.

Rainbow shot through the ring, giving a mental cheer as she punched right through Cloud Angel’s stupid face, and began a spiraling turn upward. Her ears pinning back against her head under the force, she came out of her climb and flapped her wings as fast and as hard as she could. Come on, come on, come on! she chanted, drawing closer to the ring with each flap.

Her eyes flitted ahead to the next three rings—the first of which was almost parallel to the fourth in line. Hard bank left after this one, then down-right, then down-left. Taking a deep breath, she passed through the ring and pitched her body to the left, arching her back to help make it sharper. Not yet, don’t come out of it yet!

Her lungs burned, screaming for breath.

“Just a little further,” Rainbow ground out through gritted teeth, pushing as hard as she could against the heavy raincloud—filled extra at her request. Though her wings ached, she kept each of her wingbeats steady, carefully maintaining her practiced discipline. “Just a few more, then we get a break,” she whispered to them, as if she could coax just a bit more energy out. “We’ve got this.”

“You sure it’s a good idea to fill these up so much, Dash?” Thunderlane asked as he flew backwards alongside her, his brows knitted together in concern. “I know Carrot’s field needs a good rain because we had that order fall through last week, but you’re looking awful red in the face right about now.”

Without turning to face him, she replied, “No, I’ve got it. I need to do this by myself, Lane.”

He folded his hooves over his chest. “You’ve been doing this ‘by yourself’ for the past few days, Dash. Not one to complain that you’re doing a little extra, gives me more time to spend with Rumble. But this—” he waved a hoof at Rainbow and her oversaturated cloud “—isn’t gonna fly for much longer.”

“Oh, come on, Thunderlane!” she whined, wincing as she struggled to keep her wingbeats steady.

Thunderlane simply raised a sky blue brow in reply, his jaw set into a stern scowl as if to say “I’m not playing”.

Of course, nowhe wants to be serious. Couldn’t get him to suck it up when he had the feather flu on tornado day a couple years back, can’t get him to stop flirting with Flitter during work hours, but he’ll hover nearby and baby me.

Though, in fairness, he wasn’t alone. And a quick glance over her left shoulder confirmed it.

The twins, Cloudchaser and Flitter, were nearby, feigning as though they weren’t quite finished putting the cloud into place they’d been working on for the past five minutes. Cloud Kicker and Blossomforth were done with their loads, but hadn’t gone to punch their timecards just yet. Instead, they were loitering just overhead, talking about, of all things, the weather they’d just put together while staring down at her with concern plainly written across their faces.

Rainbow sighed and stopped pushing her cloud. “You guys know why I’m doing this.”

“Yeah, we do. And we’re all pulling for you, here. Especially the Weather Team.” Thunderlane’s glare softened. He flew close, laying a hoof on Rainbow’s shoulder. “Everypony in town is pulling for you, Dash. But you can’t overdo this or you’ll just end up hurting yourself.”

Her ears swiveled back to lay against her scalp. She looked down and away. “You sound like the girls,” she mumbled.

“They might’ve mentioned that you’ve been pushing yourself harder than ever. I don’t even think we’ve had to come looking for you during one of your naps!”

“Because I haven’t been napping, you dork! I’ve been training any time I’m not working!”

His scowl returned, his brows knit together. “You’ve turned work into training, Dash. That cloud’s heavy enough that two of us should be pushing it—you’re damn lucky we’re not under inspection.” Snorting, he flicked his tail in irritation. “You’re gonna pull a muscle in your wings or shoulders, both if you’re really unlucky.”

With a frustrated huff, Rainbow let go of the cloud and put her hooves on her hips. “I’m not stupid, Thunderlane! I know how hard I can push my body, and how far I can go before I have to stop! We both went through the Academy together, I know the same rules about training as you!”

“Oh yeah? Which of us crashes and burns more often because of some crazy stunt?” Rainbow winced, rubbing a hoof against her leg. A moment of weakness Thunderlane capitalized on; he drew in close, jabbing her chest. “You’re only a couple weeks out from tryouts, I’m not gonna let you waste all the effort you’ve put in, or all the extra training with Spitfire you keep bragging about—”

“Wasn’t bragging,” she mumbled in weak protest. “Just sayin’.”

“You were bragging, Dash. It’s what you do. That aside, I’m not letting you throw that away. Of all of us—” he swept a hoof out toward the team “—you got the invite to a tryout. Don’t waste a chance because you hurt yourself pushing too hard like a rookie! I just want you to be smart about it!”

Rainbow opened her mouth to reply. A retort, a boast that a mare as awesome as her couldn’t possibly get hurt because of some basic training routine—something like that fresh on the tip of her tongue. But she stopped short, her ears perked up at the last bit he’d said; words that rang oddly familiar…

“It’s designed to make you be smart in how you use your speed—remember what we talked about? Using a little strategy in that?”

It clicked.

Spitfire wanted her head in the game just as much as she wanted Rainbow in peak condition. No stupid, improvised stunts, no blazing through a track without any rhyme or reason.

She took in a deep breath through her mouth and exhaled slowly. “Okay,” she said, placing her hooves on the side of the cloud once again. “I’ll be smart. This is my last cloud.”

Thunderlane raised an eyebrow. “Promise?”

“Promise. Just do me a favor, would ya?” Rainbow tossed her head toward her wings. “Make sure I keep an even pace going?”

His lips curved up into a small smile. “You got it, Dash. Now get your rear in gear! You’ve still got another fifty lengths to go, and I’ve gotta pick Rumble up from school in ten minutes!”

Laughing, Rainbow pushed against the cloud, her determination renewed. Be fast, be agile, be in shape, and be smart.

She’d call it something cool—the Four Be’s, maybe. Whatever she chose, it was her new mantra. Look out, Wonderbolts, a new rookie was on the rise.

Three… two… one… hard left!

Rainbow pitched left the instant she passed through the ring, arching her back to help tighten her move. She grit her teeth, the force of the wind seemed like it was trying to tear her coat from her body.

Today was supposed to be a joint practice with Spitfire, but an unexpected meeting scuttled those plans. Fortunately, the Wonderbolts’ Captain went ahead and kept her spot booked on the track for an hour and left her a stopwatch to use.

Solo practice was no substitute for working with a Wonderbolt, but any time on the track was good for her chances.

As soon as she saw the next ring come into view, she leveled out and shot off like a rocket, straight through the hardest turn and into a series of tight maneuvers to make it through the course.

Down right! Down left! She shifted her weight to make her turns, her wings stayed level and her heart pounded in her ears like a beating drum. Wide sweeping turn left, then sharp right, then pull up and corkscrew left, then loop up, and then into the last dive!

Her breathing was more stable. The ache in her muscles was nothing more than a dull burn, the sensation that came with pushing herself to the very limit spurred her on to new heights.

I can do it!

She banked wide, her eyes locked on the ring ahead of her. Rainbow waited patiently for the opportune moment, she’d only have a split second to make her move—if it came too early, she’d have to readjust and risk losing valuable energy and speed in the process. Too late, and she’d have to fight to come back against the grain of the winds rushing past her face, and lose all her momentum.

Fly smart, Dash. Don’t go late, but don’t be too eager to peel off, Spitfire’s voice echoed in her head, speaking above the adrenaline-fueled flight pattern. Use your momentum to your advantage, go when you’re angled and ready.

“Just a little bit more,” she told herself, eyes narrowing to peer through her flight goggles. “Almost…”

Go!

She shot forward like a bolt from a crossbow. The corners of her mouth tugged into a grin, her ears pinned back at the whistling of the wind. Her angle was a little tight, all she’d have to do would be time a quick roll and turn, and she’d be on her way.

Three… two… one… roll!

Tucking her wings in, Rainbow twisted her body to the right and rolled as she sped through the ring, using the added momentum to help her lean into a right turn and zip through the next ring.

Up-left corkscrew, now!

A difficult maneuver, even for her. The speed Rainbow was flying at made the task of pulling back and pitching her body to the left in time to climb and angle herself off toward the ring feel like Applejack or Twilight had taken hold of her tail and were pulling back as hard as they could.

Her smile grew into a cocky smirk. “Sorry, girls! Not holding this mare down today!” With an extra heave, she pulled back and began to climb. Gravity and friction began to work against her, bringing her speed down to little more than a brisk glide—the very part that Spitfire warned her about.

Don’t panic, just turn into it.

All it took was a little pitch to the left to get herself lined up, and then several quick flaps of her wings to get her speed back. Only a little bit of distance, she thought, her breath quickening. Make each wingbeat count!

Pushing those clouds had prepared her for this; steady beats of her powerful wings sent her zipping through the deep blue sky, straight through the second-to-last ring with plenty of speed.

And all the momentum she needed for her loop-de-loop and dive.

Rainbow leveled her wings, then arched her back, climbing once more into a wide arc. On a whim, she stole a glance to the landing cloud below, watching in mute fascination as it seemed to get smaller and smaller the higher she went.

Focus, Dash, Spitfire’s voice scolded, just in time for Rainbow to adjust and see the ring before her. You’ve got a circuit to finish.

“Got it, Cap,” she muttered, letting herself soar upside down through the ring and then entered an inverted dive.

A quick roll and tuck of her wings righted her posture. Rainbow leaned forward, streamlining her body for the falcon dive on the final leg. Wind streamed off her sides, a contrail began to form just inches before her nose.

This was it! The thrill of the flight! A race against time and her own limits! Just her and the track!

Whistling, a shrill ringing in her ears, the friction rubbing against her coat, and her mane flowing behind her like a trail of liquid rainbow! She almost longed for this dive to take longer! If they moved her landing cloud down a bit more on the trial, she could take a moment to enjoy the adrenaline rush.

Focus!

She blinked. The cloud base was just ahead, she’d nearly overshot it.

With a snort, she flared her wings and pulled back to slingshot herself toward the line. Rainbow shot passed it, landing into a gallop and running out her remaining speed until she could turn and make a brisk trot over to a fluffed up patch where she’d stashed her water bottle and stopwatch.

“Heh, too bad Cap didn’t see that one!” Rainbow said to herself as she took the bottle in hoof and popped the stopper.

Grinning, she pictured the awestruck look that would’ve flashed across Spitfire’s face—just for an instant, but more than enough to set Rainbow’s wings aflutter and bring a squeal to the back of her throat.

Blazing orange eyes would be wide open, as if trying to take in every bit of the circuit she’d run. Her ears would stand straight up and her wings would twitch, ready to unfurl and take flight herself.

Rainbow snickered to herself. “She’d be picking her jaw up off the clouds for sure!”

“No fooling’!” Soarin’s voice called from somewhere to her right.

Rainbow turned, grinning at the sight of the easygoing Lieutenant trotting toward her. “Afternoon, Lieutenant!” she greeted breathily, raising her bottle. “Out for a practice run?”

He snorted and shook his head, patting his officer’s uniform. “We don’t do practice runs in these unless we’re doing sudden combat drills, Dash, you know that. Or, you would—” he narrowed his eyes in a show of mock sternness “—if I could ever get you to memorize your darn handbook!”

Rather than fire off a retort his way, Rainbow simply gave a cheeky grin and began guzzling her water. She had to fight back a giggle at how he sighed and brought a hoof to his forehead.

“Speed demons,” he groused, shaking his head. “You, Fleet, and Spits, I swear.” With a quick skyward glance to the sun, as if to ask Princess Celestia why he’d been saddled with the trio of mares, Soarin fixed her with an expectant look. “So, don’t be coy, what’s your time?”

She blinked. “Huh?”

“Your time, Dash. Y’know, for the trial run you just did.” He pointed to the stopwatch she’d left laying in the patch of clouds.

The very stopwatch she’d forgotten to stop.

“Gah!” Rainbow dropped her bottle and snatched up the watch in her hooves, hitting the red button as fast as she could. “No, no, no, no, no, no, no! Dang it!”

The face read two minutes and twenty-seven seconds; a time she’d have to toss out because she’d neglected to hit stop before she’d sat herself down.

Groaning and bringing her hooves up to massage her temples. “Ugh! I had it! I know I did! Stupid, stupid, stupid!”

Soarin chuckled, patting her on the back. “It’s alright, Dash. You had a heck of a run. I’d go as far as saying you pull one like that at tryouts, and you’re in.”

Her ears flicked, Rainbow’s head shot up. “You mean it?”

“What? You think I’d blow smoke up your rump after all the stuff you’ve done for me?” He nudged her shoulder, grinning as he lifted a hoof and held it under his wing. “But, if you must have a definitive number…” With a little rustle, a black stopwatch dropped into his hoof.

Rainbow gaped, the corners of her mouth tugged into a full-blown grin. “You were timing me?”

“My part in the meeting turned out to be me walking in and telling the higher ups the Academy hadn’t been wrecked by the latest batch.” Soarin rolled his eyes. “Waste of my flippin’ time, but orders are orders. Anyway, Cap caught me before I left and asked me to time a couple of your runs for her. She didn’t say to tell you, but she also didn’t say not to.”

“Lieutenant Soarin,” Rainbow said, giving him her biggest and brightest filly eyes, “have I ever mentioned that you’re my favorite Wonderbolt ever?”

“You could stand to mention it more. Now, Cadet—” he playfully emphasized the word, glancing at his watch “—your time on that last run…” he trailed off, leaning in and turning an ear toward her for effect.

She sighed. “Really? Dramatic buildup on this?”

“We’re showponies, Dash. Get used to it. Oh, that run you just made? A minute and twenty-nine. Make it a constant.” Soarin stowed his stopwatch away in his uniform, a fond smile played upon his lips. “If you show Fleet, Misty, and I that in a week, I’ll be sending you to get fitted for a uniform and flight suit.”

The urge to squeal, to leap up, flare her wings, and bounce on the cloud nearly overtook her. Her personal awesome scale was very nearly cast aside in favor of the nigh unstoppable urge to do backflips through the air in front of one of her heroes-turned-friend-slash-mentor.

Instead, Rainbow restrained herself to a grin and nod. “Thanks, Lieutenant Soarin,” she said, unable to keep the sheer excitement out of her voice. “I’ll make sure not to disappoint you guys.”

Soarin nodded. “I’m sure the others’ll be glad to hear it. Good luck, Rainbow Dash.” He turned and made to walk away, but stopped after a couple steps, turning to glance over his shoulder.  Looking her up and down as if surveying her, he tilted his head to the side. “Y’know, other than the qualifiers, I never got to see you all-out train before today. The Academy was Cap’s little project back when you were going through it, I just ran the reserves through their paces once they came up.”

She stayed silent, blinking in muted confusion. Where exactly was he going with this? More appraisal for her hard work?

“Sorry, rambling. I do that a bit.” Chuckling, Soarin reached into one of his pockets and pulled out his standard issue shades. With a flick of his hoof, he opened them up and slipped them on. “Just thinking that I’ve never seen a prospect garner this much attention from her. You two spend a ton of time on the track together, these days.”

Rainbow shifted in place, rubbing a hoof against her shoulder. “She’s just pushing me, y’know? Just training.”

“I know. I don’t mean anything by it, Dash. Just noticed that when you’re here, you two are working out together. It’s cool.” He adjusted his shades, turning to walk away again. “Get yourself a good shower and head home, I’ll let Cap know how you did. She’ll be over the moon—well, in her own quiet way.”

“Yeah. Thanks again, Lieutenant.” She snapped a smart salute, earning a nod as he trotted.

Rainbow moved to pick up her water bottle, but stopped short. Soarin’s words still echoed within the depths of her mind.

“I’ve never seen a prospect garner this much attention from her.”

They had been training together quite a bit. Each day, Rainbow would rise to whatever challenge put in front of her, and Spitfire would critique and offer a few helpful hints to how she could shave off a few seconds, or fine tune a roll in that one part of the routine her form always slipped on.

And each day, little by little, Spitfire had started to smile a bit more, showing more of the friendly mare Rainbow met at the Best Young Flyers Competition and Grand Galloping Gala a couple years back, rather than the stoney-faced, gruff Captain of the Wonderbolts.

Spitfire did seem to Rainbow in higher esteem than a lot of the reserve candidates… Especially after that debacle with Wind Rider.

Maybe she—

Rainbow shook her head. With a little rustle of her wings, she snatched up her bottle and stopwatch. Don’t read too much into it, she scolded, trotting away and tossing her sweaty mane. Make the team first, then figure that out. It goes hoof-in-hoof, anyway.

Deep breaths. You’ve got this. Don’t hurl. Don’t hurl! Don’t you freaking dare—

Her stomach lurched. Rainbow Dash leaned over the bowl of her toilet and opened her mouth to empty the contents of her stomach.

—hurl. You’re such a pansy.

She groaned, wiping the back of her hoof across her lips and casting a baleful glare into the puddle of sick. “Ugh, that was horrible. Wait, carrots?” she asked, blinking in confusion. “Why carrots? Why is it always carrots? I didn’t even eat freaking carrots!”

Another wave of nausea hit her, she toppled sideways, only just managing to catch herself before she collapsed to the floor of her cloud house.

After weeks of rigorous training, the day had come. First, it had seemed like it was an entire lifetime away. The days crawled by, like a snail across the dusty trail leading into Ponyville.

Then, without warning, it was the week of tryouts. Time had sped forward, as if Discord snapped his fingers and made the hourglass of the world appear before him so he could shake it up and empty all the sand to the very bottom.

Of course, Fluttershy would swear up and down that he did no such thing. Discord was “reformed”, she’d say. He pranked and teased, but he would never do something so terrible as mess with somepony’s time.

Rainbow snorted, pushing herself to her hooves. Her legs trembled, her wings clamped firm against her side.

“Today’s the day,” she muttered, anticipation and trepidation mixing in her voice. The very day she’d been waiting for since she saw her first Wonderbolts show as a filly had come at last. It was her big day.

So why, then, did a part of her wish she could push it back just one more day? Maybe even two?

“Are you okay in there, Rainbow?” Twilight called through the bathroom door.

Sighing, she called back in a weak voice, “Yeah, I’m fine. Just ate something weird, I think.”

There was a moment’s pause, then the tinkling of magic. The latch clicked, the door pushed open to reveal Twilight Sparkle. Her lips curved into a tiny frown and eyebrows knit together in concern. “You look terrible,” she said.

Rainbow gave a mirthless laugh. “Gee, thanks. You really know how to make a mare feel good, Twi.”

“I try.” Twilight trotted forward and laid a hoof on Rainbow’s shoulders. She offered a kind smile. “Are you worried?”

“M-Me? Worried?” Scoffing, Rainbow waved a hoof at her. “Ha! Worrying is for losers! Worrying is for ponies who don’t have Captain freaking Spitfire’s eye! I mean, it’s just a lifelong dream, easily comparable to Rarity wanting to break into the fashion industry and stuff.” The hoof began to shake, searching for her shoulder and rubbing. “A-And it’s not like this could be my one and only shot at this, y’know! It’s just a silly tryout, right? Even if one wrong move could—”

A purple hoof pressed against her lips. “You’ll do great, Rainbow Dash,” Twilight said. There was no uncertainty in her voice, no sense of doubt.

Rainbow couldn’t help but ask. “B-But what if—”

“You’re going to do great, Rainbow. I know it. For all the reasons you just said, and because I’ve come to know you well enough that I know you deliver when it matters most.” Her deep purple eyes shone, her smile broadened into a wide grin. “And I know you’re going to go to that tryout and knock their socks off!”

“Socks aren’t a part of the uniform, they haven’t been since—”

The hoof pressed against her lips again. Twilight sighed. “Of course you become a history buff at the most inopportune time.”

She gave a weak smile. “Sorry. Just nerves, y’know?”

“Yeah.” Twilight returned the smile, giving a fond shake of her head. She pulled Rainbow into a tight hug, nosing against her cheek. “You’re going to do great, though. Just remember to breathe, pace yourself, and don’t lose focus.” She drew back and dropped down the floor, then turned to walk out. “Come on, everypony’s waiting on ground level to see you off.”

“Everypony, huh?” Rainbow ran a hoof through her mane and struck a pose, flaring her wings like she’d seen Spitfire do on a poster once. “Excited to see the Dash get her shot, eh?”

“As a matter of fact, yes. Mayor Mare and I spent half the morning arguing with Pinkie Pie. She wanted to throw you a pre-tryout party—whatever those are supposed to be.”

Snorting, she folded her wings and trotted over to meet Twilight. “Aw, you should’ve let her! I’d have loved to see it!”

“Sorry, but I thought it would be best if I didn’t let Pinkie fill you up with cake before your big tryout. I doubt it would go too well if you were feeling sick. Er. More sick than you just were.”

Rainbow gave a shaky laugh, her cheeks coloring a rosy pink. “Yeah. Right.”

The pair made their way outside, the warmth of the summer sun washed over Rainbow’s body like flowing water. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, letting it out slowly through her mouth. Today’s the day.

Unfurling her wings, she leapt off the cloudy porch and glided down to meet the gathered ponies, with Twilight following close behind. She touched down on the lush green grass, which tickled the bottom of her hooves for the briefest of moments before a pink and fuschia blur bowled her over, babbling at a mile a minute.

“Pinkie!” she wheezed, kicking her hind legs in a vain attempt to escape her friend’s clutches. “Can’t breathe!”

“Oopsie-daisy!” Pinkie released her hold and hopped to her hooves. “Sorry, Dashie! I’m just so excited! And nervous! I’m nervo-cited!” She pranced in place, giving a high-pitched squeal. “It’s here, it’s here, it’s heeeeeeeeeere! Are you excited? I’m excited! I can’t wait! You’re finally gonna do it!”

Rainbow chuckled and pushed herself up into a seated position. “Whoa, there, girl! I’ve still gotta go to tryouts! Then I have to make the dang team. We’ll party if I get in, okay?”

Pinkie jumped back, gasping and bringing a hoof to her chest. “‘If’? ‘If’? ‘If’ is not definitive! ‘If’ implies a chance of failure! That is not winner-type talk, Dashie!” She covered her ears, singing as loud and obnoxiously as she could, “Lalalalala! I do not hear this non-winning-type-Dashie-talk!”

Laughter rippled through the crowd. Applejack, Rarity, and Fluttershy stepped forward, each grinning as they approached.

“Ready, Dash?” Applejack asked, frank as ever.

She gave a stiff nod and crooked smile in turn. “Yeah. Just gonna go out and give it my all. And, y’know, hope I don’t make a fool of myself like I did for half the Best Young Flyers show.”

Rarity clicked her tongue. “You mean the same show in which you saved my life? Dear, this is your big moment! Your grand stage! You must take to the skies with all the fervor and passion with which you’ve pursued your goals, and—”

“Um, Rarity?” Fluttershy cut her off and pointed to Rainbow, whose smile grew rather strained. “I, um, don’t think that’s helping.”

“Oh. Well. Quite right.” Tossing her mane, she gave a sheepish grin. “You’ll do wonderfully, Rainbow. I believe in you.”

Twilight placed a hoof on her back. “And so do I.”

“Ooh! Me three!”

“I make four, Dash.”

“And—And me, too! So, um, five.” Fluttershy ducked her head, smiling shyly she whispered, “I’ve always known you could, even since we were fillies.”

With her friends surrounding her, each smiling and reaching to tussle her mane, nudge shoulders, or catch her in a firm hug, Rainbow ducked her head and bit her lip to hide a watery smile. “Dang it, you guys! I’ve got a rep, and you’re ruining it, and I just don’t even care!” She threw her hooves out wide, catching them all in a tight embrace.

Five mares giggled and returned the hug, holding her tight for a moment before they let go and stepped back.

“Go get ‘em, Dash,” Applejack said, tipping her hat. “Chase down that dream of yours as best you can, sugarcube. We’ll be waitin’.”

“Eager to hear how it went,” Rarity added.

“And ready to party!” Pinkie threw a hoof-full of confetti over the group.

Rainbow brushed bits of paper and streamer out of her mane, trying her best to hold back a broad grin. “Next time you see me, you’ll all be friends with a Wonderbolt—fully fledged, no more reserves! And there’d better be cider at that party!”

Applejack nodded. “You make it, I’ll make sure there’s a full barrel with your name on it.”

With an excited swish of her tail, Rainbow laughed “Best start filling it, then, farmer-girl! Once I make the squad, I’m gonna guzzle that cider before Pinkie tries to snag it!” She stopped, casting a quick glance at the mare in question. “Uh, Pinks? You don’t mind if I have you hold off on that party until tomorrow, right? If I make it in—”

“When!” Pinkie corrected, jabbing a hoof at her and fixing her with a wild-eyed stare.

“Right.” Rainbow gave a sheepish chuckle and considered what to tell them. Best keep the dinner thing to myself or Rares is gonna want to pick an outfit. Yeah-no. “Y’see, when I make it in, the Bolts have some tradition where they take the newbies out for drinks. And Cap says there’s no way I’m getting out of it.”

Pinkie beamed. “No problem-o, Dasheroo!” She winked, her grin growing wide enough to nearly split her muzzle. “That just means I get to make the party even bigger than before!”

Bingo. “Sounds like a plan!” Giving Pinkie a quick hoofbump, Rainbow took to the sky and gave a the crowd jaunty salute. “See you all later!”

Like a bolt fired from a crossbow, she took off, the wind rushed by her ears, drowning out the cheers and shouts of good luck. She closed her eyes as she climbed, her mind focused on her goal.

I’ve got this. Rainbow allowed herself a small, but confident smile. Her wings pumped faster and faster, excitement overriding any sense of worry or hesitation in her being.

She angled herself off to the northwest, flying over fields of green and rolling hills. Off her right side, she watched as Mount Canterhorn’s visage seemed to rise from the ground to greet her, as if the city she’d visited, and saved, with her friends were giving a silent salute as it shone in the bright sunlight.

Turning her attention forward, Rainbow arched back to climb above the first of a sea of clouds. If she looked close enough, she could already see some of them bearing the works of pegasus cloud-sculpting; shaping and moulding them into lavish houses for the pegasi, yellow light glowing from within. She could see mothers walking out with little foals carried on their backs, ready for school.

Her destination was a place those little ones could only dream of.

Rainbow soared above the tops of the cloud buildings, weaving to her right to allow the Cloudsdale Weather Team’s morning shift to fly out to send their shipments across the nation. She spared a nod to her fellow workers, though, mentally, told herself that they wouldn’t be her colleagues for much longer.

Up ahead in the distance, there was one patch of cloud sitting higher than the rest. One she knew all too well from weeks of training, and years spent falling asleep at night with the dream of calling it her home.

The Wonderbolts’ Skybase. Almost sacred ground for any pegasus who dared to dream big enough.

She almost didn’t feel her hooves touching down on the clouds, her feathers twitched with anticipation as she trotted into the locker rooms.

To her surprise, Spitfire was waiting for her. She stood, leaned up against Rainbow’s locker, her shades hung from the collar of her well-pressed officer’s uniform. Those brilliant orange eyes locked with Rainbow’s.

“Ready?” she asked, her voice low and gravelly as ever.

Licking her lips, Rainbow gave a single, resolute nod, not even daring to try to speak.

Spitfire nodded in kind, then pushed herself off the locker and trotted by. She stopped, glancing out of the corner of her eye. A small smile played upon her lips. “You’ve got Soarin’, Fleetfoot, and Misty Fly judging. Knock ‘em dead, Rainbow Dash.” Facing forward, she trotted passed Rainbow and through the open doorway.

With the locker room to herself, Rainbow let her eyes fall on the flight suit hanging up in her locker; the traditional blue and gold of the Wonderbolts greeted her, the form-fitting half-suit of the Academy Cadets and Reserves, and a pair of flight goggles were waiting.

She took a deep breath and placed a hoof on the suit, taking it off the hanger with a little rustle of her wings. “Showtime,” she muttered, slipping her right hoof into one of the leg holes. The uniform stretched and moulded around her leg, hugging tight against her form. Her left followed, then she pulled it over her head and, with a little tug, slipped it over her midsection.

Rainbow gave pause to fix her mane as best she could, grimacing at how the suit always made the ends stick up. “Rarity would have a fit if she saw,” she muttered. With great reverence, she lifted the flight goggles off their place on the hook and slipped them over her head, letting the lenses rest on top—the same way all the greats liked to leave them when they weren’t in flight.

Bouncing on her hooves, she took a deep breath and began to go through her stretches.

Deep breaths, she reminded herself as she slowly unfurled her wings to their fullest extent, then went through a few wingbeats. Don’t panic, don’t overthink it. Just pretend it’s any other flight, and leave it all on the track.

So many years spent dreaming of this day, countless hours spent training, all of it for this day.

Nerves? Nerves were for ponies who weren’t ready. Nerves were for ponies who didn’t eat, sleep, train, and repeat in the name of making themselves ready for the big time.

A grin spread across her muzzle. Rainbow folded her wings and crouched low, springing up, then landing nimbly on her hooves. She was more than ready, she was Rainbow freaking Dash—the most naturally gifted flyer in all the land, with drive and passion that made even her heroes stop and take notice. Not to mention a pretty dang awesome mare with some equally awesome friends backing her, all waiting for her to come home and tell them all about how she’d finally done it.

“I’ve never seen a prospect garner this much attention from her.” Soarin’s voice echoed, turning her thoughts to the very mare she’d made her bet with.

The cloud wall before her seemed to mould and shape itself into a perfect replica of Spitfire’s face, her lips curved into a smile, her eyes shining with pride and something else, as if she knew some great secret she was just dying to tell.

It was that same look she’d given Rainbow just two weeks ago.

Adrenaline pumped through her veins, her tail swished in excitement as she pulled the door open and stepped out into the warm sunlight again. She had to look down and smile at the way Wonderbolt blue and gold seemed to gleam in the light, like a shining star burning brighter, even in the day.

Ahead she saw them—Fleetfoot, Misty Fly, and Soarin, all seated at a table, which was adorned with a cloth bearing the familiar golden bolt and white wing crest. Curiously enough, Soarin was dressed in his Class A officer uniform, while Fleetfoot and Misty were in their flight suits, with their goggles at rest on their foreheads.

When she came into view, Fleetfoot offered a small, polite smile and nod, while Soarin favored a grin and a jaunty wave in her direction.

Her eyes darted left and right, scanning the cloud line for any sign of yellow coat and fiery orange mane. She found it a short distance away; Spitfire rested with her head in her hooves and shades covering her eyes, reclined on a patch of cloud she’d likely torn off or commandeered from the auto-cloud machine. Though her posture was relaxed, the telltale swishing of her tail and twitching of her feathers brought a grin to Rainbow’s face.

She’s looking forward to this.

“This is my time,” she whispered, trotting up to stand before them, awaiting their command.

As the highest ranking officer at the table, Soarin stood first, with a sheet of paper in hoof, followed by Fleetfoot and Misty. “Cadet Rainbow Dash,” he began, reading from the script,  “welcome to the Official Wonderbolts’ Selection Test. This is a comprehensive examination that focuses on testing four main aspects of stunt flying: speed, agility, teamwork, and endurance. The test, likewise, will be in four parts. You will be allowed a brief water break between the first and second, and third and fourth tests, along with a fifteen minute rest once you’ve finished the second test. First up is a straight hundred yard dash, which you’ll go through three times, taking your best score as your final.

“For your second test, First Lieutenant Fleetfoot will select one of the basic Academy stunt routines for you to run through. You’ll have one ‘practice’ run, which we’ll score you on. If you’re satisfied with that score, you can opt to keep it and move on, but most choose to take a second run at it. Downside is, you’ll be stuck with your second score in that event, so choose wisely. For the third test, we have two of our seniors, Staff Sergeant Rapidfire and Master Sergeant Firestorm on standby to run through a team routine from the Academy book with you; same rules as test two for scoring.”

He paused, his eyes flitted to meet hers. His lips curved into a knowing smile, his eyes danced with an almost challenging light.

Rainbow smirked right back at him, daring him to read it out.

Soarin happily obliged. “The fourth, and final, part is the timed obstacle course. You’ll only get one attempt at this one, Cadet, so your time is final. Rules for the times—”

A whistle made his ear—and Rainbow’s as well—flick. Four heads turned, in perfect unison, to face Spitfire. The Wonderbolts’ Captain lowered her shades to the bridge of her nose and raised an eyebrow at him, her brilliant orange eyes bored into his deep forest green, giving silent command.

“Er, right,” he said, rubbing at the back of his neck as he turned back to his script. “Sorry, normally Captain Spitfire reads this off. Your minimum time to make the team is one minute and thirty seconds. To make it as an alternate, the minimum is one minute and forty-five seconds.” Soarin placed the script down on the table and looked up to meet Rainbow’s gaze. “Do you understand the rules as I’ve read them out to you, Cadet?”

“Yes, sir!” she replied.

“Any questions before we begin?”

“No, sir!”

“Very good.” Soarin’s smile returned. He nodded, then sat down. “Let the test begin.”

Chapter 1: Incentive

Wind rushed past her ears, her mane whipped behind her like a rainbow colored flag in the middle of a hurricane. Rainbow Dash narrowed her eyes and went into a quick roll to slip through the last cloud ring, then made a hard bank down and to the right, shooting toward the finish line. A small yellow, orange, and blue dot stood on the cloudbase.

I can do this! I’m gonna make it! She flapped her wings faster. The wind trailed off her sides, like it couldn’t even stand touching her. The friction gripped and tugged at her coat like it was struggling to hold on.

Nothing could catch her, nothing could stop her from reaching her goals when she set her mind to it. Her friends, her family, they all stood behind her in spirit, their cheers echoing in Rainbow’s ears as she sped toward the line.

The yellow, orange, and blue dot grew as she drew closer and closer to her goal, taking on a more defined shape—fiery mane, wings as yellow as the shining sun, and a deep blue sport jacket worn proudly. Spitfire held one hoof out in front, glancing from Rainbow to something in hoof and back again, almost as if sending a silent command.

Rainbow could swear she heard her voice over the rush of wind. “Hurry up. Cutting it close.”

No! I’m gonna make it this time! She pushed forward, folding her wings against her sides to enter a sharp dive, like a falcon swooping down on its prey. Gonna do it! I’m gonna beat it!

The whistling in her ears, the rapidly approaching clouds, the adrenaline pumping through her veins as she pushed her body to the absolute limit to beat her target, all brought her to a high like no other—not even some of those crazy party drugs Vinyl told her about could even compare to this.

She was one with the wind—no. The wind was chasing her.

Rainbow gave a tight-lipped smile—a trick Spitfire herself taught her to avoid catching bugs—and flared her wings just in time to swoop over the cloud and cross the finish line. “Time!” she yelled as she went streaking by Spitfire.

Her hooves touched down on the soft cloud surface. Her lungs burned, aching for breath. Rainbow tore her flight goggles from her face and let them hang limp around her neck as she gasped for air. Somehow, the sleek, form-fitting flight suit—Wonderbolt blue and yellow—seemed to compress her insides, squeezing her like a tube of toothpaste. Every breath was a fight against the suit itself.

But she’d be bucked in the head if it didn’t feel good. Pushing herself, fighting to get that extra burst of speed in before her dive—the thrill of fighting her own limitations as a pegasus.

This is what it takes, she told herself, the corners of her mouth tugging upward. This is what it takes to be a Wonderbolt.

The soft thudding of hooves on cloud made her ears prick up. Glancing out of the corner of her eye, she caught sight of Spitfire dangling a water bottle near her shoulder.

“Nice flying, Dash,” she said smoothly. “Coming along pretty good. Take a drink, you’ve earned it.”

Rainbow shook her head. “What’s my time?”

Spitfire stared a moment, then sighed. “Just take a drink, Dash. We can discuss your performance in my office after—”

“Cap, please,” she cut in, desperation tinging her voice. “What’s my time?”

Another sigh. Spitfire glanced at her stopwatch. “You’re on the wrong side of the cutoff, Dash. You still need to shave a little time off to make it.”

Her heart sank. Rainbow lowered her gaze and closed her eyes. Don’t cry, don’t scream. She took a deep breath in through her nose and held it a moment, just like Twilight taught her. I have time. I have time to make my time. Slowly, she let it out. “How far off?”

“Not far at all, really. Three seconds. You’ve got two weeks before the time trial, and your scores in the stunt and coordination trials should hit right on the money if you keep what you’ve been doing.” Spitfire gave a chuckle. “And you destroy the straight sprint—it’s just combining speed with precision that slows you a touch.”

Groaning, she stomped into the cloud, burying her hoof deep within its fluff. “Lightning rutting—how? I’m going as fast as I can! If I go any faster, I might as well be doing a Sonic Rainboom!”

“Actually—” Spitfire held up a hoof “—that’s really not a good idea. With the speeds you’d be going to pull that off, I don’t know if you’d be able to make turns that tight.”

“I’ve done it before!”

“Yes, making one turn—you pulled up and then shot off. Look at the track, Dash.” Spitfire waved at the course, showing off how it weaved and dipped at odd intervals, forcing flyers to bank on a bit in order to make it through the cloud rings. “It’s designed to make you be smart in how you use your speed—remember what we talked about? Using a little strategy in that?”

Rainbow sighed and picked up the bottle. “Yeah,” she mumbled, popping the cap to take a long drink of cool water. Wiping the back of her hoof across her mouth, she looked up to Spitfire. “So what is it I’m doing wrong, then? I’ve been putting my weight into my turns like you said, but I still feel like I’m pulling too wide.”

Spitfire stayed quiet a moment, humming to herself. “Honestly? Your banks are fine, Dash. You could maybe stand to lead a little more with your head when you go into a turn, but your form isn’t the issue.” She turned away and looked toward the locker room across the cloud, then looked down at the surface. “If anything, you’ve just gotta really focus on this for a couple weeks. Work on picking your spots—you blaze through the first parts, then end up having to slow yourself down in the middle because the course gets a little jumbled around turn four. By turn six, you’ve lost the bulk of your speed and have to get it back for turns nine and ten, and then you end up hedging your bet on a falcon dive. It’s not bad, but it won’t get you the spot you want. The most I could do with your time right now is list you as an alternate.”

“An alternate?” she repeated, her voice shrill. “I—I—Come on, Captain! You said it yourself! I kill those other trials!”

“You’ve gotta pass all of the trials, Dash.” Her brows knitted together. “The hay kind of talk is this, rookie? I know you’re better than this—I know I taught you better than this half-effort, excuse-making load of horseapples.”

She shot to her hooves, a sharp retort on fresh on her tongue. But she stopped. Deep breath in, deep breath out.

Rainbow closed her eyes, focusing on the smiling faces of her friends and family, all waiting for her back home. Each of them wishing her good luck before she went off, telling her to do her best and leave it all on the line.

No excuses. This is my shot.

“I’m not trying to make excuses,” she said after a moment, hanging her head low. “I’m sorry.”

A hoof touched her shoulder, Rainbow turned to find Spitfire looking at her with a small smile, and an odd look in her eyes. “I know, Dash. I know. It’s tough, and our standards aren’t easy.”

“Don’t have to tell me twice,” Rainbow mumbled. “Just getting an invitation is a pain in the—” hearing Spitfire clear her throat, she turned to find the smile and fond look gone, replaced by a stern glare once again. She winced. “Er… ear?” she offered, forcing a smile.

Spitfire held her glare for a moment, those brilliant orange eyes boring into hers.

But as the tense seconds ticked on, her lips curved into an amused grin. “No,” she said, “you had it right the first time—it’s a pain in the flank, and rightfully so.” Her smile dropped, her expression serious once again. “We are expected to be the best and recruit the next generation, Dash. No breaks for anypony, whether they be nobles, national heroines several times over—” she broke off to nod to Dash, a gesture almost like a little bow of her head “—or the princesses themselves. We all went through it.”

There it was. The constant reminder, the subtle little push she always loved to give.

Everypony who wore the blue and gold went through it properly, and so would Rainbow Dash.

Ponyville did Winter Wrap Up the earth pony way, the Wonderbolts set the bar high and only took those who passed it consistently.

It was a small mercy Captain Spitfire took the time to help her, rather than foisting it off on a subordinate or scoffing and flicking her tail in Rainbow’s direction, leaving her with nothing more than a “Figure it out yourself, kid”.

Rainbow took another sip of water, then poured a bit over her head. “Alright, fine. I’ll pass your time trial.” She paused, a sly grin played upon her lips. “But when I do, there’d better not be any sneaky extra tasks!” she cried, thrusting the tip of the bottle at Spitfire as if it were a spear. “I’ve got a perpetually pranking pink pony friend on my side, and I’m not afraid to call in a favor!”

Snorting, Spitfire turned and flicked her fiery tail across Rainbow’s nose. “If you think you can out-prank the entire top squad, you and your little friend are welcome to try!” she crooned, looking back over her shoulder through half-lidded eyes.

A sharp intake of breath, Rainbow fought to keep her feathers from ruffling. That was the look—the look every red-blooded Bolts fan knew and dreamed about.

Orange eyes boring into them, a playful smirk, almost as though she were just daring them to try their luck and play along…

Just like the posters, Rainbow thought. When had her mouth gone dry again? She hastily took another sip of water, just as Spitfire laughed and began trotting toward the locker rooms, a little saunter in her step and a sway in her hips.

Her eyes bugged out as the water went down the wrong way. She sputtered and coughed, pounding her chest.

“You okay back there, Dash?” Spitfire called, her voice tinged with amusement. “C’mon, don’t go drowning yourself before you take a shower—you’d only smell twice as bad as a sweaty corpse.”

Unable to offer reply, Rainbow settled for a weak glare until her coughing subsided. Way to go, Dash. Minus fifty awesome points for inhaling water in front of the Captain of the freaking Wonderbolts. She wiped spittle from her muzzle, giving a sheepish grin. “Just took on a bit more than I could a little too fast.”

“Heh, rookie mistake.” She shook her head and tutted. “You’ll wanna clean that up before tryouts. If you make it, it’s our sacred duty to kidnap you for drinks afterward.”

Raising a brow, Rainbow bounded to Spitfire’s side. “Kidnap?” she asked, falling into pace. “You’re not gonna tell me ponies try to weasel out of it.”

“A couple, yeah. Usually, I send Fleetfoot to chase them down, and Soarin to sneak up and catch them. For you? I might make it my personal duty.”

Rainbow’s brow arched higher, a playful smirk crossed her muzzle. “Think you can keep up?”

Spitfire turned. “Make the team first, then try to run. See what happens.” With a snort, she cuffed Rainbow over the back of her head with a wing. “If you can make it past the edge of the cloud before I catch you, dinner at a restaurant of your choice is on me.”

A challenge from Spitfire? Dang right I’m all over that. “You’re on!” Her smirk broadened into a full-blown grin. “Hope you’ve saved up, Cap, ‘cuz you’re takin’ me to the top of the line!”

Another snort and a shake of her head. Spitfire didn’t dignify that with a reply, instead favoring to continue her brisk trot across the field.

Playing it calm and cool like always. Typical, and quite fitting for the Captain of the Wonderbolts.

Her thoughts flitted back to all the magazines, all the sports cards sitting in a box in her home. All images of the Wonderbolts’ greatest flyers, her heroes. And sitting at the top of that list were always the big officers. Commander Easyglider, Admiral Fairweather, Admiral Fairy Flight, and General Flash, all the pegasi who shaped the culture of the world’s greatest flight team.

Getting in was a feat in and of itself, but making officer put them at the very pinnacle of the team’s history.

Lieutenants Fleetfoot and Soarin were certainly up there—her top speed and his power flying made them both living legends in that regard. And why not throw in Misty Fly? Or Blaze and Firestreak? The entirety of the top squad could probably qualify for the Wonderbolts Hall of Fame if they decided to retire all together.

Spitfire, though, was different. She didn’t quite match Fleetfoot’s top sprint speed or the sheer power of Soarin’s wingbeats—but, really, who did? First Lieutenant Soarin had those ridiculously large things growing out of his back, a single flap and he was rocketing off—but when she took wing she didn’t fly through the sky.

She owned it.

Every bank, every dive, every flip or spin, Spitfire hit it hard and on the number, sending ponies in the crowd whooping with joy and stomping their hooves like a thundering herd. From a dead start, she took off so fast even Fleetfoot had to race to keep up and then make pace—what was it the Cloudsdale Chronicle said when she made her rookie debut? Ah, yes.

“When Spitfire hits the starting line, don’t blink. She’ll be done with her first lap by the time you open your eyes again.”

Sure, a bit of an exaggeration, but a younger Rainbow Dash ate it up and made sure to follow Spitfire’s career from her debut show, to her famous race in Saddle Arabia, to the breakneck speed she seemed to climb the rank to Captain of the top squad.

Spitfire owned the sky, and the Wonderbolts knew it enough to give her the rank despite her age. And she’d seen fit to offer Rainbow help to take that last step on her way to reaching her dream.

“I wanted you on our squad,” Spitfire had admitted in private, having pulled Rainbow aside after apologizing at the Equestria Games Qualifiers. “You’re Cloudsdale born and raised, Dash. By right, you should’ve been on our radar, but they went with the three top officers. Shouldn’t have lied to you or Soarin, and I’ll pay for that for a good long while, but I didn’t do it to hurt either of you. I did it because it’s my job to get the best ponies on Team Cloudsdale. But, like you said, Ponyville’s your home now, and I respect that loyalty. Good luck when we get to the Crystal Empire, Dash—” she’d stopped and grinned “—just get ready to eat my dust!”

The memory alone was enough to send the adrenaline rushing through Rainbow’s veins. Whether or not it had been intended, their private exchange stayed with her until the Games—every second she wasn’t working or helping out a friend with a problem, she was locked in training.

Just like when Spitfire came to her as she prepared for tryouts and offered help, Rainbow jumped at the chance. More time spent with Spitfire meant she was closer to her achieving her dream.

Not to mention time spent with one of her heroes-turned-friends.

Maybe I could stand to spend a little more time with her, she thought, glancing at Spitfire out of the corner of her eye. Not just training.

Dinner was on the table, albeit part of a bet if Spitfire paid for it. But if Rainbow offered…

A little voice in her head, sounding suspiciously like Rarity, pointed out that sounded awfully like the setup for a date.

Shut up, Rares.

It wasn’t a date. It would just be two mares sharing dinner, talking a little bit about the upcoming tryouts or whatever else came up.

Totally different. Especially if it was a sports bar and alcohol was involved.

Rarity’s stupid, knowing giggles sounded in her head. Naturally, Rainbow did the mature thing, stuffed the voice in a little mental box, and kicked it into the deepest, darkest recesses of her mind.

One more word out of you, and I’ll do… something unpleasant. To real you. Just shut up.

As they approached the door to the mares’ locker rooms, Rainbow stopped. “Hey, Cap,” she said, “er… got a question for you.”

“Oh yeah? Shoot.” Spitfire leaned against the wall, crossing one hoof over the other.

A hoof went to the back of her rainbow mane, rubbing at a patch that just seemed like it was out of place. “Do you think we could maybe grab dinner or something—I can pay!” she added hastily. “Just hanging out, y’know? Mare to mare.”

She cursed her inner Rarity to the depths of Tartarus. It had to be her fault, she was making Rainbow nervous somehow.

That was the only explanation she could find for the rambling. Rainbow Dash did not ramble in front of a fellow awesome pony. Minus fifty points again. C’mon, stop making yourself look bad!

“No,” Spitfire said.

Rainbow’s ears drooped. “O-Oh. Er, well, sorry to bother you. Just thought—”

A yellow hoof pressed against her lips. “I don’t mean ‘no’ as in ‘no, I don’t want to get dinner with you’. I mean ‘no’ as in ‘we can’t right now’,” Spitfire explained. “Not in the position we’re in.”

“Because of tryouts?”

“Bingo. Coaching you and letting you drink with us as a team is fine. But if you get seen with, say, Soarin, Fleet, or me alone?” She shook her head and snorted. “Command would have our hides, Dash; say bye-bye to your dream of joining the Bolts, and I’d lose my rank.”

Her ears laid flat against her scalp. “All that over dinner?”

“Nepotism isn’t something we take lightly in the Bolts. Anypony who gets in has to go through the process the same way we all did.” Spitfire turned to walk away, her orange tail flicked behind her almost dismissively.

Rainbow cringed, hanging her head. She rubbed a hoof against her shin, her gaze kept fixed on the clouds at her hooves. “Sorry, Cap,” she said, her voice barely above a murmur. “Didn’t think about that.”

Spitfire’s steps stopped. She took in a deep breath and held it a moment, letting it out slowly. “It’s alright, Dash,” she replied after a moment. “Just trying to keep both of us out of trouble. Doesn’t matter that neither of us would cut corners like that, all it takes is one pony saying something.”

Sighing, Rainbow raised her head and ran a hoof through her mane—why in Equestria did it have to be so stubbornly messy today?

She opened her mouth to reply, but shut it and just nodded. No way to argue the point. Ponies talked. A lot. Rumors flew faster than even her Sonic Rainboom could spread its color over the land.

Her hoof left her mane. She reached out for the door, the thud of her hoof on heavy wood jarred her out of her lapse.

Speak up. Thank her for training, Applejack’s voice echoed in her head. She could almost feel her friend giving her a little push. Remember your manners, and things will work out.

Sending mental thanks toward the real Applejack, Rainbow turned to call out to Spitfire. “Thanks for your help, Cap,” she said. “I appreciate it a lot. I really do.”

Spitfire stopped and turned, offering a small smile. “Anytime. It’s nice to work with a pony willing to take advice and apply it, not to mention one with your drive.” Nodding, the turned away. “See you tomorrow for our next session, Rainbow Dash. Remember, don’t be late or I’ll have you flying laps around Cloudsdale ‘till your wings fall off!”

A bark of laughter escaped her throat. That old threat, the same one Spitfire used to scream at hapless cadets who dared come in late on Reserve Weekends.

They were cool.

“Pfft! Only way I’m late is if you cheat and set your watch ahead!” she shot back, snickering as she pushed the door open and stepped inside.

The door closed behind her with a soft thud. Rainbow let out a long sigh, trotting over to her locker. With a twist of the latch, she pulled open the metal door and tossed her bottle inside.

The resounding crash, amplified by the tight quarters, made her wince and lay her ears flat, but felt oddly satisfying. A nice, private chance to vent her self-aimed ire.

Think before you act! Consider all ramifications before you make a push for something risky! She rolled her eyes at Twilight’s voice.

“Little late there, Twi,” she muttered, snatching her navy towel with her name written in gold stylized lettering. “Could’ve used that when I tried asking Cap out for…” Rainbow grimaced and slammed the locker door to drown out inner Rarity’s voice. “Dinner. Just dinner. Between two mares,” she finished lamely. “Shut up, Rares.”

So what if Spitfire was her favorite Wonderbolt when she was toiling away in lower ranks of Ponyville’s Weather Team, using her weather schedule and cloud pushing as her time to throw in a little bit of training with her work? So what if there were no less than three posters of “Cloudsdale’s Blazing Skydancer” hanging in her room?

Those were just the remnants of fillyhood idolizing, before she knew Spitfire the mare instead of looking up to Spitfire the Wonderbolt.

Rainbow still blamed the excited squeal and subsequent blush when Spitfire offered to train her on Fluttershy. The hastily added, “I—That’d be great! If you don’t mind helping, that is…” was especially her fault.

Just like Pinkie was to blame for the way she had to fly home as fast as she could so she had a little privacy when she bounced off the walls of her cloud house after Spitfire grinned and said, “I want the best on my team, Dash. Nothing in the rulebook says I can’t train you up as long as I abstain from the observing committee.”

If it’d been a dream, she would’ve cursed Luna’s name to the moon and back. That would’ve been way too cruel.

Taking her twine bag with soap and shampoo in hoof, she made her way over to the showers, her ears laid flat against her scalp as if to block out her friends’ voices as they teased her in her own mind. Something to say about how much they’d influenced her over the course of their time together, of course. The idea that they served as her guides, even when she was away.

With a flick of her hoof, Rainbow turned on the water, deftly stepping out of the way of the stream. Used to the chill of rain showers on her back or not, a cold shower after an intense workout ranked about a minus twenty on the awesome scale. Completely not cool.

Well, it was cool, but not cool.

Rainbow shook her head. Dear Celestia, I’m starting to argue my own wording. Twi’s getting to me.

She stepped into the stream, wincing at the sudden feeling of steaming water raining down on her head and racing down the back of her neck. A tiny moan escaped her lips as her muscles began to unclench and relax, loosening up under the constant barrage.

“Hot damn,” she mumbled, giving her wings a little flex to work out the aches. A contented smile played upon her lips as she arched her back and swished her dripping tail. “Nothing better! Full-bore, flank-kicking workout, and a nice, warm shower.”

“Can’t argue with that!” Spitfire’s voice called from out in the locker area.

Rainbow squawked, her hooves slipped and nearly sent her sprawling sideways. “C-Cap! You heard all that?”

Her ears flicked at the low chuckle Spitfire gave. “I just walked in, Dash. Only caught the bit about a nice, warm shower after a workout. Anyway, got a little proposition for ya.” The soft thud of hooves on soft cloud floor echoed, growing closer until the tip of Spitfire’s yellow muzzle poked around the corner. “Bit of an addition to—” Just as she turned the corner and came face-to-face with Rainbow, she trailed off, her eyes going wide.

For a brief moment, she stared, then looked away. “Er, sorry. Dunno why that caught me off guard,” she mumbled, leaning up against the wall and crossing her forelegs one over the other.

Oh, can’t pass this up! Rainbow thought with a grin. “Probably struck dumb by the sight of my raw awesomeness!” She whipped her mane and struck a pose—her wings flared out to fullest extent, a hoof held against the back of her head, and a winning grin on her muzzle, one from a certain magazine she’d seen Spitfire pose for a couple years back. “Can’t blame ya, Cap! It was only a matter of time since you spend so much of it training me!”

With a roll of her eyes and glance toward the ceiling, Spitfire shook her head. “Yeah, right. That must be it.” Though she was turned away, Rainbow was quite pleased to note an amused grin on her face. “Anyway, got a little alteration to our deal. Let’s call it a bit of incentive for you to hit your mark at the trials—extra incentive, that is.”

Blinking, Rainbow turned to face her fully, the steady beat of water upon her back rather than her head and neck. “More incentive than making it to the Wonderbolts?”

“I said extra incentive,” Spitfire replied, with added emphasis on. “Making the Bolts is your primary objective, this is just a little something to sweeten the deal. If you’re up for it, that is.”

Tilting her head to the side, Rainbow stepped out of the shower, water dripping off her sides as she moved closer. “Sweeten it how?” she asked.

“That dinner you were asking about?”

Rainbow’s ears perked up to full height, but Spitfire never saw it. “The one that can’t happen because it’d be nepo… nepo…” She furrowed her brows and shook her head. “Cheating. That one?”

“Yeah, that one.” Giving a little chuckle, Spitfire nodded. “Look, you are just outside the mark for the time trial. But you’re close. Hit the mark, and you’re in. If you shave off those three seconds you need, and you hit your marks on all the other trials like you have been, you’ll make the team.” She turned, her eyes locked with Rainbow’s. “Do yourself a favor and put in a little extra practice at home—see if you can get your Weather Team to help set up a course. You know the basic design, right?”

Nodding, Rainbow couldn’t stop the grin from slowly spreading across her muzzle. “Yeah, totally!” she said, her voice tinged with excitement. “I can have them help me whip it up no problem, and Twilight’ll help time me! Just gotta keep it outside town limits or above three hundred feet—and that’s if Mayor Mare—”

A yellow hoof pressed against her mouth. Spitfire’s eyes seemed to dance with amusement. “Alright. So, get that set up, run through it a few times when you’re off duty. Maybe do a little extra cloud pushing to get your endurance up, y’know? Every little bit helps.”

Another nod. She tilted her head back and brushed Spitfire’s hoof away from her mouth. “So, work a little harder to cut down my time and I’ll make it?”

“Bingo. If you cut off three seconds and make the team, I’ll let you take me to dinner and hang out with you after the tryout. Our team tradition of getting you plastered won’t kick in until you officially join at the ceremony, so that’ll be our little thing.”

“Er, Cap, won’t that make ponies think I cheated?” Rainbow pointed out. “If we hang out before the official thing?”

Spitfire shook her head. “The ceremony is a lot of pomp and circumstance—it’s really just for the cameras and all the fans. You’re a Bolt as soon as the judges say you’re in, but we wait until the ceremony for the big party.”

Beaming, she gave a little rustle of her wings. “Well, as long as we can’t get in trouble, I’m cool with it!” It took every bit of her self-control not to do a little prancing jig in place. Nope! Already lost enough points on the awesome scale! Play it cool in front of Cap, let it out at home. “So, mind giving me my time so I know what I’m working with?”

“Sure thing.” Spitfire reached into her jacket pocket and pulled out her stopwatch, holding it out for Rainbow to see. “You’re at one minute, thirty-two seconds. I need you at one twenty-nine to pass the trial.” She slipped the watch back into her pocket, offering a supportive smile. “Think you can pull it off?”

Rainbow opened her mouth to reply, something cocky and full of her usual bravado, but stopped short. Something about the smile was different. Not quite the typical smirk or silent approval of her captain.

Warm, holding a bit of fondness.

She took a step back, jolting slightly as she backed her tail into the stream. She’s pulling for me? Damn the awesome scale. She couldn’t help the bright grin this time.

Rainbow snapped a quick salute and puffed out her chest. “I’ll give it everything I’ve got and more, Captain!”

Spitfire stomped a hoof on the ground. “That’s what I like to hear!” Stepping forward into the shower, she laid a hoof on Rainbow’s shoulder. “I’m sure you’ve got this, Dash. Just keep at it on your free time and give it your all, here and at home. I expect to see you in our uniform soon enough.”

Without another word, she turned and strode from the locker room, leaving Rainbow alone with her thoughts.

For a moment, she stood in silence. Slowly, Rainbow let herself fall back to her haunches, holding her hoof to her chest and taking deep breaths to calm her racing heart.

Cap’s pulling for me. All my friends are pulling for me, she thought. Three seconds? That’s foal’s play!

“I’m gonna shave off four!” Rainbow leapt to her hooves, her wings ruffled up and all aches seemed to wash from her body. Ready to fly again.

Damn being tired, she had a dream to chase and a bet to win.

Chapter 3: Give It All You've Got

Never before had Rainbow noticed just how white the cloud base that housed the Wonderbolts Skybase was. Even whiter than the immaculate coat and soft downy feathers of Princess Celestia, they had an almost hypnotic, soothing effect, calling out to her with their siren song to just lay down and take a nice, long nap.

Her burning lungs, however, brought her back to reality. Rainbow shook her head, her matted mane whipped from side-to-side, sending rivulets of sweat to and fro like Winona after a bath.

No taking a nap. She forced herself to remain upright out of sheer defiance and force of will, tightly gripping the water bottle they’d given her. Tilting her head back, she brought it just a few inches above her mouth and squeezed, shooting a stream of precious water to wet her parched throat.

Every muscle and joint in her wings ached. Though, oddly enough, not in a way that begged for her to stop before she pulled a muscle.

Rather, it was the same ache that came with training and pushing her limits.

“Nice execution, Cadet,” Soarin called. “You turned a bit shallow on the lead up to that final dive, and you had to fix up your synchronization with Rapidfire and Firestorm a couple times, but it was a good effort. I’ll give it an eight out of ten.”

“I’ll give it a nine,” Fleetfoot said. “Onus on the lack of synchronization is on Rapid on that one, it’s his job to call out and get them set up, he went too early when he banked off, so Fire and Dash both had to adjust on the fly, so to speak.”

Soarin frowned, but nodded in reply. “True enough, this isn’t an officer’s test, so I can’t rate her on that. I’ll adjust to an eight and a half to compensate for Rapid’s error. Misty? Any thoughts?”

Drumming her sea green hooves against the table, Misty Fly hummed to herself a bit before answering, “I’ll go with Fleetfoot and give it a nine out of ten.” She glanced down at her paper, then back to Rainbow, smiling brightly. “So far so good, Cadet. Score of twenty-six on the team routine, twenty-eight on the single, and six seconds from a dead start on the hundred yard dash.

Rainbow placed the water bottle down on the cloud base and wiped her mouth with the back of her hoof. Three out of four tests down, and she was killing it. Just like she knew she would.

Stealing a glance to her left, she looked to Spitfire, trying to read the schooled expression and hidden eyes.

Still lounging on her cloud, yellow-coated ears stood up straight, craning to hear every word the trio of officers said. Spitfire met her gaze, purple shades met with magenta eyes. For a moment, they just stared at one another in silence; hero and fan, mentor and pupil, and, more importantly, friends. Spitfire’s expression was neutral, her mouth set in a thin line as she surveyed Rainbow.

Then, to Rainbow’s surprise, Spitfire nodded once and gave a small smile of her own. But as quickly as it came, it was gone, wiped off her face in favor of her neutral stare again.

Her wings twitched. Rainbow ducked her head to hide her efforts to hide the grin that threatened to split her face in two. A smile from Spitfire was good on any other day of the week.

A smile at tryouts meant they might as well give her the uniform. Rainbow was on her “A-game”, and they knew it. More importantly, Spitfire recognized it enough to break her stony, big bad captain stare in the middle of her break.

There was just one last bit to climb before she could reach the top of the mountain.

“Only thing left is the obstacle course,” Soarin said. “Like I mentioned earlier, you’re only gonna get one run with this test. Ready, Cadet?”

Rainbow stood up straight and snapped a salute. “Yes, sir! Ready and able!”

The trio of officers smirked, nodding in reply. “Good mare,” he said. “Step on up to the line, then wait for my signal.” They stood, trotting over to the line with her, each holding a stopwatch tucked in their feathers.

Confused, she tilted her head. She opened her mouth as though to ask, but caught herself.

Probably trying to eliminate the margin for error, Twilight’s voice echoed through her mind. That way, you won’t miss the mark because of one pony’s error in hitting the button.

“That’s actually a good idea,” she muttered to herself. “At least I’ll know they made sure to give me a fair shake if I don’t—” she stopped short, shaking her head. “No. I’m gonna make it. Not a doubt about it.”

She bounced on her hooves, stretching out her neck muscles and taking a few deep breaths. I’m gonna make my time, make the Bolts, and then I’m gonna get a trifecta of parties—from the team, my friends, and Cap. Grinning, she cast a look over her shoulder at Spitfire Hope she’s ready to empty the bank on dinner.

Rainbow stopped with her forehooves touching the checkered line. Closing her eyes, she drew in a deep breath through her nose, and held it a moment while she reflected on the course itself and the challenge it presented.

Sticking to her strategy was key. Don’t try to go blazing through, but don’t overthink the course itself.

I’ve got this. I own this track, and this sky.

Soarin barked out his order, “On my signal! Cadet, take your position!”

She crouched low and unfurled her wings, smirking as she waited, not for his permission to take the final test. No.

He was simply about to give her permission to show how she could dominate the sky, like a real Wonderbolt.

Just like Spitfire each time she took wing.

“On your mark!”

This is it. Time to do or die. She released her breath through her mouth, deepening her crouch, ready to spring forward.

“Get set.”

Rainbow opened her eyes. I own this track.

“Go!”

The very instant the word left his mouth, Rainbow shot forward like a cyan bolt, a short sprint to get her speed up before she leapt off the base and dove forward, folding her wings and letting gravity do the rest of the work for her as she counted down, waiting for the perfect moment.

With practiced ease, she unfurled her wings and pulled up, flying straight and true through the first cloud ring. Rainbow pitched up and right, arching her back to make a sharp bank as she spiraled up and through the second ring.

Hard left, now! She rolled left, sweeping out wide so she could watch out of the corner of her eye for the right moment to hit her spot. Rainbow let her momentum carry her through the ring, smirking to herself as she punched straight through Cloud Angel’s stupid face.

Eat it, you stupid rabbit! Rainbow angled her body for the upward spiral turn, the high clouds above her spun in her vision almost hypnotically, begging her to try to reach them.

Her goal was far more important though. There was a spot on the Wonderbolts with her name written all over it in their gleaming gold script.

Right across the locker room from Spitfire’s spot. Or perhaps next to hers, if she could swing it.

The banter would be fun, at least.

Focus, girl, Applejack’s voice chided her. This next part’s meaner ’n a copperhead snake!

“I got it,” Rainbow replied in a mumble. “Already at top speed for it.”

All that was left was to let herself fall again.

Rainbow arched her back, letting herself slip over the bottom of the ring like a pole-vaulter to aid in her downward trail, angling left to shoot through the narrow gap of the next ring’s sides. Unorthodox, perhaps, and certainly difficult to pull off for anypony else, but she wasn’t just “anypony else”.

Not to mention, it made her efforts easier for the next ring. All she had to do was make a slight adjustment, a little pitch to her right and a shift in her weight, and Rainbow had herself lined up to zip through with barely an effort.

Her heart pounded as she drew closer to the ring. She snuck a glance ahead, an almost manic grin split her face. She was having fun.

Damn the test, she could do this course all day. Speed, quick turns, wide sweeping arcs, daring loops, all culminating in a dive for the home stretch.

It was the course every race pony dreamed of.

Rainbow took a deep breath and closed her eyes as she leaned left, entering into that make-or-break turn; too early and she would go peeling off past the ring, too late and she’d have to fight against her own momentum to adjust her course. The timing had to be perfect, there was no room for mistakes!

Just the way she liked it.

She opened her eyes, staring straight at the ring as she counted backward in her head, waiting for her moment. Not yet. Just a bit more.

The instant she saw a hint of blue between fluffy white edges, she angled toward the ring and leveled off. Her turn carried her far enough to the right side of the ring so she wouldn’t hit the leftmost edge, but the gap was narrow. A bit too shallow for her liking.

Dang, still not perfect. Frowning, she furled her wings and did a quick barrel roll.

A feather brushed against the fluff. Her breath hitched in her throat, Rainbow’s eyes went wide.

Stay on it! Her friends’ voices cried in unison. Right turn, now!

Her body moved purely on muscle memory, leaning to the right just in time to shoot through the next ring. What next? It was a, um—Oh! Rainbow arched her back and angled her body to the left. Up left corkscrew climb!

It was just a lapse, nothing major. She was still on course, and had been making great time up to that point.

She just had to fight against the rushing wind, the friction trying to claw at her coat as gravity tried to pull every bit of her down to ground level. Her own body weight worked against her, holding her back as a wall of wind tried to slap her out of the sky.

Snorting, Rainbow gave a single flap of her wings. For a moment, she gave gravity the proverbial buck in the face and slipped through a crack in the wall of wind. Then, as it seemed to rally and join gravity in pulling against her, she pumped her wings as fast and hard as she could.

Get your speed back for this last leg! She narrowed her eyes, her brows furrowed in determination. Her gaze flitted from one ring to the next, noting the position.

Directly above, as she’d practiced, though perhaps a little bit higher. A big loop straight into a falcon dive to the finish.

Rainbow took a deep breath in through her nose. Gliding through the penultimate ring with wings outstretched, she slowly tilted her head back and let the wind catch beneath her wings. She let the current lift her into the loop, watching the ring closely to make sure she was on course.

Right on target! I’m gonna get this! Her world turned upside down, her rainbow mane fell and flapped against the rushing wind.

The grin returned, splitting her face in two. One last leg and she was home free. Send in the designers to fit her for a uniform, have an engraver work on her nameplate in the locker room, and call up her friends. Rainbow “Danger” Dash was already a Wonderbolt in her own eyes.

Getting a little ahead of yourself, kid. Spitfire’s voice scolded her, sounding a bit more amused than stern.

Laughing, as she passed through the final ring, Rainbow chanced a look toward the mare in question, her eyes easily catching the speck of yellow and fiery orange, and navy uniform against a backdrop of deep blue sky and fluffy white clouds, tiny as they were.

Something seemed a bit off, though. Spitfire wasn’t lounging as she had been when Rainbow started her course. She was sitting up, attentive, as though she were judging the performance.

Their eyes met.

Time seemed to slow to a crawl as piercing orange and deep cerise bored into one another. Somewhere in the back of her mind, Rainbow put two and two together, and realized that Spitfire had removed her shades.

There was no “playing it cool”, Spitfire made no effort hide her grin behind her typical cocky smirk or guarded smile.

Above the rushing wind shooting past her ears, Rainbow could almost hear Spitfire’s voice calling to her, as if flying alongside her rather than the little echo in her head. Coarse and gravelly, but with an underlying warmth, she seemed to whisper, “Bring it on home, Rainbow Dash.”

Her jaw set. Rainbow arched her back to come out of her loop, and dove, folding her wings tight against her side. Wind whistled by her ears as she shot toward the finish line, pulling against her mane and tail as if it were trying to tug her back.

Oh, no you don’t! Pinning her ears back, Rainbow brought her hooves together, like a diver springing off a board into the water below. The corners of her lips tugged into a smirk. I’ve got this! She leaned into her dive, streamlining her body as best she could, even going as far as snapping her tail so her entire body formed a straight line.

An arrow, bound straight for the finish line.

Closer and closer she came, until she could see the polished medals gleaming on the officers’ uniforms, and the glare of sunlight against their stopwatches.

A spark of inspiration hit her in mid dive. Rainbow held back a snicker as she unfurled her wings to catch the air and quickly pull up, changing her course from a steep dive to the cloud base and realigning herself to go shooting past the finish line at top speed, buzzing her favorite officers.

Again, her gaze flitted to Spitfire. Those brilliant orange eyes were wide and alight with amusement, she shook her head and slipped her shades onto the bridge of her nose, chuckling to herself.

Why not have a little fun at the end?

Rainbow shifted her eyes to the finish line, just in time for her to go speeding across like a bat out of Tartarus. Soarin, Fleetfoot, and Misty Fly each raised hooves to cover their faces, wincing at the wind whipping across their faces.

“Time!” Soarin called. He hit the stop button, then fixed Rainbow with a stern glare. “You’re lucky I can’t dock points for buzzing officers,” he said, a playful edge to his tone.

His threat did nothing to stop the wide, toothy grin spreading across her face. “Did I get it?” she asked, doing her very best not to bounce on her hooves. “I got it, right?”

Rolling his eyes, Soarin nodded toward the table. “Trot on over to the table, Cadet. We’re doing this officially, after all.”

A not so subtle reminder of where she was, and a way around simply telling her to curb her enthusiasm. Rainbow gave a sheepish chuckle. “Yes, sir. Sorry, sir.”

As Rainbow moved to stand in front of the table, the trio of officers each took their places beside their chairs.

After a moment’s pause, Soarin glanced at his watch. “I’ve got you down for one minute, twenty nine point four seconds, Cadet. Nice flying out there.”

Her heart soared. Rainbow let her wings flare to their fullest extension, her tail swished merrily. Oh my gosh, oh my gosh, oh my—

Hang on. Her grin faltered. Rainbow turned slowly to face Fleetfoot and Misty. They all have watches.

“One minute, twenty nine point nine on mine,” Fleetfoot said. She looked up from her watch and smiled. “Good flying, like First Lieutenant Soarin said. But that little brush against the cloud nearly cost you. That little stunt of yours at the end probably saved you.” Her smile turned wicked. “But buzzing us is still gonna cost ya later on, Cadet. I have a long memory.”

Rainbow cringed. Crud. That’s way too close. Nodding to Fleetfoot, she let her eyes fall on the last one to pass judgement. Her hooves trembled against the surface of the clouds as Misty Fly checked her watch, then raised her gaze.

“One minute, thirty point five,” she read.

Her heart sank into the pit of her stomach. “I didn’t make it?” she asked, a tremble tinging her voice.

“Like First Lieutenant Fleetfoot said, that brush against the ring cost you. I hit it as soon as you crossed the line. Sorry, Cadet, but you didn’t make the cutoff for—”

“Hang on a minute,” Soarin cut her off. “You can’t call it like that when two of us clocked her at twenty-nine and change, Second Lieutenant. You know dang well we take the average of all three times!”

Misty took a couple steps back, ducking her head. “I’m just saying! I had her a little high! It’s gonna push the average up!”

“Give us a minute to do the dang math, and we’ll see!” Fleetfoot snapped, stomping a hoof into the clouds. “Unless you just did all that figuring in your head, don’t call it. And even still, it’s not your call to make Second Lieutenant.”

Nostrils flaring, Misty stood up to full height. “Don’t talk to me like I’m—”

“Wonderbolts!” Spitfire’s voice rang out.

With a finch and a tiny yelp of surprise, Rainbow turned to find Spitfire standing just a few paces to her left. Her shades were in place, set beneath furrowed eyebrows, a stern frown marred her muzzle.

“Shut up,” she said, a hard edge tinging her voice, “and stand at attention.”

The trio fell silent, each snapping to attention and turning to face their commanding officer. “Yes, ma’am!” they replied in unison.

Nodding, she turned to Soarin and strode forward to stand muzzle-to-muzzle with him. “Lieutenant Soarin, as I have removed myself from the judging process due to personal reasons, you’re supposed to be the senior officer on this panel. In the future, I expect you to exercise more control over your subordinates.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he said, nodding stiffly. “Sorry, ma’am.”

“I don’t want your apologies, Lieutenant. Just do it.” She turned and moved to stand before Fleetfoot. “Lieutenant Fleetfoot, when a subordinate falls out of line, I expect you to address them with with professionalism, dignity, and the respect they deserve as a member of the Wonderbolts branch of the E.U.P. Do I make myself clear?”

Fleetfoot nodded once. “Yes, ma’am. It won’t happen again, ma’am.”

“See that it doesn’t.” Spitfire’s steely gaze fell upon Misty Fly, who bit her lip and looked down at her hooves. “Second Lieutenant Misty Fly.”

“Yes, ma’am?” she asked, her voice low.

“Look at me when I’m speaking to you, Second Lieutenant.”

Misty obeyed, her ears splayed back. “Sorry, ma’am.”

Spitfire flicked her tail. “You’re the youngest amongst us four, so I can understand a bit of eagerness on your part. That doesn’t excuse you undercutting Lieutenant Soarin by any means. Got it?”

“Yes, ma’am,” Misty replied.

“Good.” To Rainbow’s surprise, Spitfire turned to her. For a moment, her frown faded into a more neutral expression, she seemed to hesitate. Then, she raised an eyebrow. “I don’t mind enthusiasm,” she said slowly, “but you need to curb it a bit. Badgering an officer isn’t gonna fly, Cadet Dash. We may fly fast and hard, but when you’re getting graded or receiving an eval, you stand at attention, wait for your superior to give it, and speak when given permission.”

Rainbow flinched as though struck. “Yes, ma’am. I won’t let it happen again.”

Nodding, Spitfire turned and walked down the line, resuming her place at the left side of the table. She did a quick about-face. “Lieutenant Soarin, resume your assessment.”

Soarin snapped a quick salute. “Yes, ma’am!” He took a pencil in hoof and jotted down her times, wrinkling his nose as he worked out the average.

The scratching of lead against paper seemed to tickle at her ears. Rainbow bit her lip, trying in vain to control the shaking in her knees. It was all or nothing. Everything came down to a simple bit of math after a breakneck run through a winding course.

Somewhere in the back of her mind, she wondered if Twilight would be giddy or peeved that a pony’s dreams could hinge on an average.

“Well, I’ll be.” Slowly, a smile spread across Soarin’s lips. He looked up and placed the pencil down. “Average of one twenty-nine point nine three, even with Misty’s high number.”

“S-Sir?” Rainbow stammered, her ears pricking forward to take in his every word.

Rather than answer her, he turned to his fellow officers. “Lieutenant Fleetfoot, Second Lieutenant Misty Fly, the numbers are in. Care to confirm the final assessment?”

The mares peeked over his shoulders, their eyes darted over his work, then flitting to the scores written on their own papers. Matching smiles graced their features, Misty stepped back to take her place. “Confirmed, sir.”

Fleetfoot looked up and met Rainbow’s gaze, then winked at her. “Confirmed, sir,” she said. She stepped to the side, gesturing to Rainbow. “If you’d be so kind, our Cadet is waiting.”

With an amused snort, Soarin nodded. He walked around the table to stand within hoof’s reach of Rainbow, the tiny smile grew into a full grin.

“Congratulations, Rainbow Dash,” he said, his voice tinged with pride. “You’re not a Cadet anymore.”

A shuddering gasp escaped her lips. Rainbow brought a hoof up to cover her mouth. “I’m not? You mean I—” she broke off. Tears of joy stung her eyes. “I’m really a—”

Soarin held out his right hoof. “As senior officer on this panel, it is my honor and privilege to be the first to welcome you to the Wonderbolts, Rainbow Dash.”

Her breath came shallow, her heart raced like never before. Almost numb, she extended her hoof to meet his, giving a weak shake. “I’m a Wonderbolt?” she asked airily. She blinked and shook her head, whipping her dampened mane from side to side before meeting his gaze again.

His forest green eyes shone with mirth. Soarin gave a single nod. “You’re a Wonderbolt, Second Lieutenant Rainbow Dash, I should say since you went through the Academy and the Reserves. And a member of the top squad, with that time.” He winked. “You made it a little interesting by clipping that cloud ring, but you always had a flair for the dramatics, even at the Qualifiers.”

Rainbow bit her lip, desperately trying to hold back a squeal of joy, but the tugging at the corners of her mouth betrayed her. She closed her eyes a moment, letting her wings flare out. “Permission to hug and babble, sir?” she asked, voice straining with raw emotion.

Soarin chuckled. “Granted.”

As soon as the word left his lips, Rainbow jumped forward and wrapped her hooves tight around his broad shoulders. She stood on her hind legs, lifting him off the ground as she squealed and babbled “I did it! I did it! I did it! I did it!” and jumping about like Pinkie Pie on a sugar rush.

Twin barks of laughter and a snort from her left gave her pause. Rainbow cracked open an eye, peering at the remaining Wonderbolts. Each mare smirked back at her, eyes dancing with mirth and mischievous intent.

Somehow, she could see Spitfire’s eyes through those deep purple shades. Alight with mirth, her stare a telltale sign that Rainbow’s little routine wouldn’t be forgotten anytime soon.

With a sheepish grin, Rainbow released her grip on Soarin and stepped back a few paces. “Sorry, sir.” She coughed and looked to the side, but made sure not to meet Spitfire’s gaze. “Just a little excited.”

To his credit, Soarin took it in stride. “Not a problem, it happens all the time.” He gave a quick motion with his hoof, inviting Fleetfoot and Misty to trot forward to stand at his side.

Out of the corner of her eye, Rainbow noticed Fleetfoot snatch a clipboard and pen off the table before she made her way over, a rather official looking form held in its metal clasp.

Soarin’s voice called her back to focus. “Normally, this would be Captain Spitfire’s thing, but—” his gaze flitted to the mare in question, then to Rainbow again “—she’s given me the run of the show. As far as we’re concerned, the spot’s yours, Rainbow. There’s a bit of paperwork we’ll need you to sign to you get sworn in properly, then you’re all set. After that, there’s a big shindig with all the press and fans to announce you as our newest member. That’ll be sometime in the next couple weeks, so we’ll be in contact with you immediately after we firm up the date so you can invite friends and family. Any questions?”

“Uh, a couple, yeah. Er, I mean, yes, sir.” Rainbow ducked her head and gave a little flick of her tail. “How many ponies can I invite?”

“We’re pretty flexible on numbers, but don’t go inviting that entire town of yours,” Soarin teased.

“So, choose carefully?”

He nodded. “Yes, but your friends probably qualify as VIPs by now. Princess Twilight is a definite, there, and she could use a little pull to make sure the rest get invited as part of her ‘entourage’.” Chuckling at his own joke, he shook his head. “We try to tell ponies to keep it to a dozen, but it also depends on how many we’re bringing in. I’ll have more on that for you in the next week. Sound good?”

Bouncing on her hooves, Rainbow nodded. “Definitely! More than good! Great! One hundred percent, totally awesome!”

Fleetfoot laughed, then held out the clipboard. “Well, before you fly off and celebrate, I’m gonna need you to sign this so we can make it official. Look it over first, of course. It’s a pretty standard deal for a Second Lieutenant, but—” she gave a little waggle of her eyebrows “—making the top squad has some perks. Namely, salary and benefits.”

Rainbow took the clipboard in hoof and began skimming through the terms. A three year deal—pretty standard for a rookie—with a fifty thousand bit per year salary and full EUP benefits, including on base housing for when the squad was in season or training; definitely not bad. Quite a bit of a pay raise from where she sat with a weather pony job.

She bit her lip, looking out of the corner of her eye at Spitfire in search of approval.

Catching her look, Spitfire shrugged and smiled. “It’s your life,” she mouthed. “Your call, Dash.”

Hesitation gripped her. “I can still visit my friends, right?” she asked. “Like, when we’re not out on tour, I can go back and see them, right?”

Spitfire nodded. “Unless we’re on tour or you get grounded for discipline, you can visit. You just have to let us know, and be back for training since you’ll be full time.”

“You can also have tickets set aside for them,” Soarin added. “Same limits apply on seating, though.”

There it was, her only reservation gone.

Rainbow took hold of the pen and brought it to hover over the signature line. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. “I’m in,” she whispered, jotting down her name and the date. With a bright grin, she returned the clipboard to Fleetfoot, then glanced at Soarin. “So, about that uniform fitting.”

“One thing at a time, Second Lieutenant,” he teased, adding a little extra emphasis on her new rank. “That’s all part of the scheduling. Just do me a favor and keep next week open, and try not to have too many wild parties. It’d be a shame if we had to come bail you out of prison ‘cause you and those crazy friends cut a little too loose!”

Laughing at his own joke, Soarin turned to Spitfire and gave a salute. “Ma’am, with your permission?”

Spitfire removed her shades, then tossed her head toward the offices. “Get those papers filed, then head off. You’ve finished your duties for the day. Dismissed.”

“Yes, ma’am!” The trio replied in unison before leaping into the air and zipping toward the barracks like a bunch of foals after the final toll of the school bell.

“Subordinates,” Spitfire muttered, giving a roll of her eyes. “I swear, I’m in charge of herding cats sometimes, not running the Wonderbolts.”

Rainbow laughed. “Sounds like some of the weather ponies I work with. Thunderlane, I swear.”

“Ah, yes.” Orange eyes lit up in recognition. “Cadet Thunderlane. Oh, how many times we had to pull him out of a cloud—Soarin submitted a request for a commission system. Cheeky little punk.”

They shared a laugh at his expense, then fell to a rather awkward silence. Rainbow shifted from hoof to hoof, her wings rustling. “So…”

Spitfire offered a smile. “You did it, Dash. Three seconds shaved off your time, even if you cut it close.” She stepped forward and extended a hoof. “Welcome to the Wonderbolts, kid,” she said, fondness tinging her voice. “Been waiting a while to say that.”

Her words sparked something in Rainbow’s mind. With a laugh and a swish of her tail, she leapt forward to sweep her Captain—officially her Captain!— into a hug.

“Whoa, there!” Spitfire reared back and placed her hooves on Rainbow’s chest, laughing as she fended off the smaller pony. “You’re not hugging me until you hit the dang showers, girl! You smell like a wet dog!”

Snorting, Rainbow allowed herself to be pushed back, and dropped her hooves to the cloud base. “Oh, come on! I’ve seen you guys hug after a show!”

“Yeah, but I’m not in my Class A when we’re flying.” She waved her hoof toward the locker rooms. “Go clean up and think about where you wanna eat.”

Rainbow grinned. “Hope you saved up! I’m feeling like there’s a trip to Little Roam in our future!”

With a playful roll of her eyes, Spitfire turned away and unfurled her wings. “Only the best for you, Dash. Now, hurry up. I’m hungry, and we’ve gotta have a little chat before we go.”

“Oh?” Her ears pricked forward. “What about?”

“You’ll see. Go shower. I’m gonna get out of this uniform and grab my bit pouch. See you in a few!” Spitfire took off with a mighty flap of her wings, shooting off toward the Wonderbolts’ office building before Rainbow could press further.

Tilting her head, Rainbow stared after Spitfire’s receding form. She wrinkled her snout, then shrugged. “Can’t be anything bad,” she mused. “I’ve only been a Wonderbolt for five minutes!”

The thought alone brought forth a bubbling giggle and a merry swish of her tail. I’m really a Wonderbolt!

She couldn’t help it anymore. Rainbow leapt into the air, flapping her wings so she could turn into a mid-air somersault.

Awesome points, cool image, none of it mattered; she was a bonafide Wonderbolt, and no pony was going to ruin her mood!

Rainbow landed, bouncing lightly on her hooves as she touched down. With a spring in her step, she made her way toward the locker room, humming the Wonderbolts Anthem to herself.

As she dried her mane, Rainbow trotted out of the shower. The warm water worked wonders to chase away the tired, aching feeling in her muscles and wash away all the sweat.

Grinning, she shook out her mane and spared a cursory glance at her reflection in the mirror to check her style; colorful, windswept, and one hundred and ten percent pure awesome. Who needs all those fancy brushes and hair conditioners Rarity goes on about? Not me!

A small part of her still couldn’t believe it. All those years spent training, all those times Hoops, Shoot, and Score teased her back at Flight School when she’d told everypony her big dream, everything flashed through her mind.

Tornado Day, the Best Young Flyers Show, the Academy, the Equestria Games Qualifiers, taking Wind Rider’s spot, all leading up to a hard-hitting, take no prisoners training regimen with Spitfire herself.

“I’ve never seen a prospect garner this much attention from her.”  Soarin’s words still echoed in her memory.

Rainbow’s smile faltered. She wracked her brain, trying to think of any stories about prospects Spitfire had seen fit to take under her wing and train to get ready to make the squad.

None came to mind. Aside from the Academy, Spitfire didn’t hold anypony’s hoof—not that she’d done so with Rainbow, of course. But when it came to tryouts, she simply sent out invites, told prospects the test categories, and sat as senior officer on the panel.

She mentioned excusing herself because she trained me, Rainbow thought, bringing a hoof to her chin. But that still doesn’t answer why she did that instead of judging me like normal.

Rainbow stopped and shook her head. “Knock it off, Dash,” she scolded. With a flick of her hoof, she tossed her towel into her locker and closed the door. “If Spitfire felt like giving me a hoof, she had her reason for it.”

“Funny you should mention that.”

“Celestia’s crown!” she yelped, turning sharply to find Spitfire smirking back at her. “What is it with you and popping up behind me?”

Spitfire laughed and buffed a hoof on a navy Wonderbolts hoodie she’d swapped in for her uniform. “I can be pretty sneaky when I want, helps with keeping Cadets in line if you can get ‘em looking over their shoulder for the big bad Captain.” She reached up and pulled a second hoodie off of her back, then tossed it to Rainbow. “Put that on, it’s supposed to get cold tonight.”

Rainbow caught it, grinning at the Wonderbolts logo stitched on the front. “Hey, thanks!” As she went to put it on, she caught sight of a name written in gold lettering. “One of yours?”

“We get spares of our merchandise so we don’t go walking around looking scruffy. You’ll get a few of your own soon enough.” She narrowed her eyes and gave a playful smirk. “So I’ll expect that back, of course.”

“You kidding? This is staying with me, Cap!” Rainbow made a show of throwing it on and snuggling into its warmth. “I’ll be the envy of each and every one of your fans with this bad boy!”

“Heh, if you think you can outfly some of the rabid legions, you’re welcome to it. Jokes aside for a bit, we’ve still gotta have our talk.” Spitfire sat down on the bench, patting the space next to her. “Pop a squat.”

Curious, she raised a brow and tilted her head, but obeyed. She threw a leg over the bench and sat down, straddling so she could face Spitfire. “Sure. What’s on your mind?”

Spitfire’s smile grew strained, almost a bit sheepish. She brought her hoof up to rub the back of her fiery mane, flicking her tail. “Well, there’s a few things, really. Concerning the terms of our little bet and the tryout itself.”

Rainbow blinked. “What do you mean? I made it, didn’t I? And I shaved off those three seconds like I said I would.”

“Oh, yeah! You’re in, Dash, no doubt about that. It’s just, well—” her eyes flitted to the side, staring at Rainbow’s locker. “Think back a minute to what Soarin said at the start of your tryout, and then after they looked over your scores. Specifically, the obstacle course time. What’d he tell you?”

Bringing a hoof to her chin again, she tried to recall the full introduction. “I remember him telling me that I’d only get one shot at it, and he mentioned the same times you gave me a few weeks ago: one minute and thirty seconds or lower if I wanted to make the team, and one minute and forty-five or better if I wanted to be an alternate.”

“Yeah, that. You, um, may have noticed that I cut him off partway through.” Her eyes met Rainbow’s again. “This is going to sound bad at first, but I need you to hear me out, okay? I had my reasons for it.”

“Reasons for—c’mon, Cap, you make it sound like you guys pulled a fast one on me!” She couldn’t help but throw back her head and laugh, wrapping her hooves around her barrel. “I know you guys like jokes, but that one’s pretty weak if you—”

“It’s not a joke.”

Her laughter stopped. “What?” Rainbow perked her ears up.

Spitfire ran a hoof through her mane and sighed. “I lied about the times, and I got Soarin to do the same. You definitely hit the time requirement for top squad, but I deliberately had him give you that or alternate as your only options.” She held up a hoof to stop Rainbow from jumping in. “Hang on, I didn’t do it to be mean. If you missed the one-thirty mark, you’d still be a Wonderbolt. You’d just be on our second tier squad—not even gonna tell you about third tier, putting you there would’ve been a crime. Let alone actually listing you as an alternate.”

Rainbow felt the blood run cold in her veins, her ears splayed back and laid flat against her head. “What do—Why would you even do that? I thought this thing was make or break! I busted my flank for three weeks—”

“Just like I knew you would,” Spitfire said. She hung her head. “I know it was underhoofed, but I didn’t do it to be mean or make you feel like we could just toss your dreams in a trashcan.” Slowly, she lifted her head to meet Rainbow’s gaze. Those brilliant orange eyes seemed alight with passion and a hint of admiration. “I’ve watched you since Tornado Day, Dash. You do better when your back is against the wall and you think it’s all or nothing. I noticed a bit of it when I heard how you saved three other ponies and myself at that competition, and I caught glimpses of it at the Academy and Qualifiers. When it’s time to step on the big stage, you go big.”

“I ‘went big’ because this has been my dream since I was a filly! I ‘went big’ because I thought there was a narrow window to make it!” Rainbow leaned forward, glaring at Spitfire. “I came here thinking about how I was ready to fly until my dang wings fell off if it meant making this team!”

“Yes you did.” Spitfire nodded and poked her in the chest with a hoof. “That’s what I needed out of you today so you’d make top squad; everything you had and more. If you didn’t make it this time, we already had a spot in second squad waiting for you.” She sighed and gave a tired smile. “You’re not second squad material, Dash. You’ve never been second squad material, even back at the Academy.”

Rainbow’s nostrils flared. “You put me as a wing pony!” she cried. “You put me with Lightning Dust until I brought everything she did in front of you then tried to quit because I thought you endorsed that load of horseapples!”

She nodded again. “Yes I did. That one didn’t turn out to be one of my brighter moves, but I did it because I had to humble you a little. You came in flying like a Bolt, walking around campus like you were already one of us. Confidence isn’t bad, but I can’t have you hot dogging it in the middle of a show. Everything about the Academy is designed to put prospects under pressure like they’ve never seen. You came out of it with better character than I’d ever imagined.”

“W-Well, I, uh,” Rainbow stammered, her indignation dying with each admission. “I always grew up idolizing you guys. You guys are supposed to be the best flyers with all the best character and stuff!”

“Rainbow Falls incident notwithstanding, yes,” Spitfire said, sighing heavily. “The point is, I wanted you to just train hard and go, Dash. It was a little push to get you where I thought you belonged, and you did it.”

Rainbow bit her lip, her gaze went to the floor.

Was it the threat of being relegated to alternate that made her train hard enough to shave three seconds off? Every second of the past three weeks had been dedicated to beating that time so she could make top squad. Even their bet had been added incentive to make it so she could rub elbows with all the big shots without worry, and hang out with Spitfire like they were just a couple mares having a night out on the town.

Her head snapped up. I asked her out to dinner. “You said there were rules about separation of officers and recruits.”

“Officers and recruits, officers and members of lower tier squads, yes.” Spitfire nodded.

“Then dinner tonight hinged on me making top squad,” Rainbow continued, “I couldn’t hang with you if I were on second squad.”

Spitfire bobbed her head from side to side. “Not entirely, but we’d have to take a lot of care with that. We couldn’t get too friendly unless we had a bunch of other squad mates out with us.” Her lips tugged into a fond smile. “Doesn’t seem like we have to worry too much about that, though.”

There was a beat of silence.

Rainbow leaned back. “So, was all this training because you wanted me on the top squad or because you didn’t want to deal with a bunch of stuff if we got caught hanging out?”

“Yes,” Spitfire replied, without a hint of hesitation.

Another beat.

“I’m sorry?”

Chuckling, Spitfire swing her leg over the bench, straddling it so she could face Rainbow. “Do I want the best young flyer I’ve ever seen wearing Wonderbolts blue? Do I want her flying in formation alongside me on the top squad?” She snorted. “No question. I want the best, and I know you’re one of the best. I can be a very patient mare, but I also love being able to sit at a table with all the EUP head honchos, wave my hoof at our team, and dare them to try stacking up against our lineup. Call it selfishness, but I’m a competitor, just like you. Sometimes, I let that get the best of me, and it costs me.” She sighed and shook her head. “It nearly made you walk away. Twice.”

Rainbow worked her mouth, trying to form words. She struggled a moment until she settled on, “And the stuff about hanging out? Why’s that a thing?”

Spitfire raised a brow. “A thing?” she parroted, giving a short laugh. Though, it sounded decidedly more sheepish than mocking. “Aw, geez, this is where I cross the line from competitor to selfish. It nearly got me in trouble a few times.”

To Rainbow’s surprise, she caught sight of something unheard of: Spitfire’s ears pinning back, an embarrassed smile gracing her muzzle, and a hint of red coloring her cheeks.

“I had to be all official when I thanked you for saving my life,” she admitted. “The whole time you were out with us, I wanted to pull you aside and talk to you one-on-one, maybe get to know you a little better. I almost had a chance when Soarin decided he was gonna try to break his own pie-eating record on that bet with Firestreak.” Laughing weakly, she gave a shake of her head. “But then, you told me how you were planning to try out, so I had to swallow it down and give you the usual spiel.”

Rainbow started at the feeling of a hoof touching hers, looking down to find a yellow hoof brushing against it. She stared a moment. Her mind raced to try to make sense of things as she slowly lifted her head to meet Spitfire’s eyes.

Swallowing a lump in her throat, she asked, “S-So, what was the, um, not usual spiel?”

The hoof held hers tight. “I was gonna ask you something.” Spitfire closed her eyes and shook her head. “But you just had to ask first, and I couldn’t help offer you that bet. Really put me behind the eight ball.” She opened her eyes. “That said, there’s something else I wanted, and this time I don’t have a handbook to worry about.”

Before Rainbow could speak again, Spitfire leaned forward.

Soft, warm lips pressed against hers. She blinked, her breath caught in her throat as her mind began to work out the details.

Whoa.

Her eyes fluttered shut. Rainbow tilted her head to the side to deepen the kiss, returning Spitfire’s gesture with a tight squeeze of her hoof.

They drew apart. Spitfire beamed at her. “I think you can guess my question for yourself,” she whispered.

Her cheeks felt as though they’d been set ablaze. She tried to speak, but her mouth felt dry. “I—you—huh?”

“Eloquent as always,” Spitfire teased, leaning forward to nuzzle her. “I like you, Dash. I’ve liked you for some time now, and I’d really like to take you out to dinner now that I don’t have a bunch of rules stopping me.” She leaned back, ducking her head until her chin touched her chest. “That’s if you want to, I mean. You can say no, and things’ll be—”

Rainbow covered her mouth with a hoof and fixed her with a level stare despite her burning cheeks. “Neither of us can get in trouble for this?”

With a quick turn of her head, Spitfire freed herself. “We’d have to keep it under wraps until the big press shindig, but we’re good as long as I don’t give you the run of the place.”

“Would you?”

“Not a chance in this lifetime.”

“Good.” Rainbow stood and turned away to hide her smile. “So, dinner?”

Spitfire nodded. “Dinner,” she said, standing with her. “Although,” she mused, a sly grin played upon her lips. “I had a thought. How’s about another bet?”

“Another one?” Rainbow raised an eyebrow. “What’s the bet?”

“There’s a place in Little Roam called Papa Pizarro’s. It’s an old favorite of mine, nice and quiet, and I’m practically family with the owners.” Spitfire unfurled her wings and gave a challenging flex. “I’ll take off, you count to five, then try to catch me. I win and you have to help me do paperwork for a week.”

“Sounds like fun. What do I get if I win?”

“Glad you asked.” Spitfire closed the distance again, wrapping a hoof around her neck before pulling her into in another kiss.

Rainbow’s joints locked up, her wings flared out as though she were ready to fly. Smiling, she made to return it, only to find herself kissing air.

Warm breath tickled her ear. “You get as many of those as you want if you win,” Spitfire whispered. “Count to five, then come catch the captain, Rainbow Dash.”

Without another word, she was gone in a rustle of yellow feathers and a creak in the locker room door.

One.

Her lips curved into a broad grin.

Two.

Rainbow bounded over to the door and threw it open, watching Spitfire’s form receding into the deep blue sky. The words from that article detailing Spitfire’s rookie season sprang to the forefront of her mind: “When Spitfire hits the starting line, don’t blink. She’ll be done with her first lap by the time you open your eyes again.”

Three.

She unfurled her wings and crouched low, swishing her tail as she thought of the kisses she’d received.

Four.

Not to mention, all the ones she’d get soon enough.

Five!

She kicked off the clouds and rocketed into the sky, a full, toothy grin splitting her muzzle. Making top squad and scoring a date and kisses from Spitfire?

A winning day. As for the bet, Rainbow already considered it in the bag. After all, there were no obstacles to hamper her speed. On a straightaway, she’d take her chances against Spitfire anyway. With kisses on the line, she’d employ a dang Sonic Rainboom if she had to.

Those kisses are mine.