Getting On Like a House on Fire
Being a Wonderbolt wasn't exactly how Rainbow Dash had once dreamt it would be, but the long road to the blue and yellow had tempered her expectations. Mostly. The nickname incident could've gone better, though at least she'd been able to convince a certain alicorn that while it was a valuable lesson on the importance of communication, nopony needed to write a letter to anypony about it.
Dash's friends were another aspect of her life she hadn't foreseen, and being a hero was even less like she'd expected than being a Wonderbolt. Even after giving her jewel back to the Tree, she was still the Bearer of Loyalty as well as the Element itself. Twilight had tried to explain how that worked to her once; neither had wanted her to try again afterwards. The point was that since Twilight's map might decide Dash's awesomeness was needed somewhere in the world at any time, she couldn't station herself in the Wonderbolt barracks. Still, she made up for that by giving it her all every practice.
Spitfire certainly seemed to notice. By the end of the week after Dash's disastrous first show, the captain gave her a nod as they entered the locker room, where the rest of the team already was. "You did well out there, Crash."
Dash didn't even wince; she just stood up straighter, despite the muscle aches. "Thank you, Ma'am!"
"Oh! Rainbow!" Surprise trotted over, already out of her uniform, highlighting her uncanny resemblance to Pinkie Pie, if Pinkie were bleached, winged, and about half as thick, rock farmer build swapped for hummingbird-like agility. "You flew off for Ponyville before we could tell you to wait last week! You missed the best part about Fridays!"
Dash smirked. "What, Carbo Load actually made something edible in the mess hall?"
"Spoken like somepony with regular access to earth pony cooking," said Blaze as she walked into the locker room, distinguishable from Spitfire largely through voice and the yellow in the captain's mane. "Don't know how you stay skinny as you do."
Spitfire nodded. "I remember that care package from the Academy. Had enough calories to keep most ponies going for three days."
"And it's not that," said Surprise, bouncing in a very Pinkie way. "It's—"
"Okay, 'Bolts, gather round." A white-coated, black-maned pegasus mare moved to the entrance of the locker room with a clipboard held in one wing, her mark a rag polishing a statue. "Time for the roundup!"
"Yes!" Surprise pumped a hoof. "You are gonna love this, Rainbow."
Dash gave a shaky smile. "Honestly, I'm not sure how much awesome I can take today."
The stranger shook her head. "Don't worry," she said. "I don't think anypony would call this awesome."
"More like hilarious," said Surprise.
"In a sad sort of way, yes." The mare offered a hoof to Dash. "Publicity Stunt, head of Wonderbolts PR."
Dash bumped it. "Rainbow Dash. But you probably already knew that."
Publicity nodded. "Oh yeah. Best Young Flier, multi-time savior of Equestria, general doer of the impossible. By all rights, you should be a household name, but the gossip columns aren't big on ponies actually doing well. Of course, that's where I come in. Every time these jokers get knocked out by a flailing unicorn or decide the best plan against a magic-sucking centaur is to fly towards his mouth, I'm the one who makes them look good anyway."
"And every week," said Spitfire, "Ms. Stunt tells us what the tabloids claim we've done, the better to prepare us for the inevitable questions."
"When Wind Rider tried to cast himself as the victim, I'd already sent out a press release detailing his dishonorable discharge hours earlier. A few rags still tried to run the story, but the truth was firmly on record."
"He wouldn't..." Dash's face fell. "He would, wouldn't he?"
Several Wonderbolts nodded. "Would and did," Soarin' sighed. Dash slumped further.
"Well, this should cheer you up. The tabloids didn't have anything to go on this week, so they really outdid themselves in making up horse apples. Let's see, now." Publicity took the clipboard in hoof. "The Sun says Surprise is the Bearer of Laughter's sister, banished from the family rock farm for the crime of being born with wings."
Several Wonderbolts snorted, including Surprise. "Wow," she said, "They're really reaching there. A 'rock farm'? Usually even the tabloids save that kind of thing for April Foal's Day."
"No," said Dash, "they really do have a rock farm. I've been there."
Everypony turned to her. "They do?" said Surprise.
Fleetfoot shook her head. "How does that even work?"
Dash shrugged her wings. "Heck if I know. Pinkie's whole family is weird. Most of them are just rock-focused in their weirdness."
Surprise beamed. "I really do need to find time to swing by Ponyville."
"I'm telling you," said Dash, matching her expression, "if you and Pinkie touch, I'm pretty sure something will explode."
Publicity Stunt cleared her throat with the force of a distant thunderclap. "Getting back on topic, according to the Stalliongrad Pronkda, Misty Fly is secretly a stallion."
"Oh yeah," said the thinnest, most streamlined mare in the room, "I'm just really good at hiding it."
Soarin' rubbed his chin. "It would help explain how you can belch entire Hearth's Warming carols."
Misty gave a smug grin. "Lung capacity, my good stallion. Lung capacity."
"Besides, the Pronkda's one to talk," said Spitfire. "We've had 'mares' from Stalliongrad in the Academy who didn't even bother to shave their beards."
Dash tilted her head. "But... gender doesn't doesn't matter in the 'Bolts."
"You know that. I know that. Apparently Stalliongraders don't. What's next, Pub?"
"The Turnip's reporting that all pegasi are actually earth ponies on strings."
"Isn't the Turnip a gag paper?" said Dash.
"Yeah, but that doesn't stop some ponies from taking it seriously." Publicity rolled her eyes. "One genius even asked Princess Luna what it was like being lost in her sister's couch cushions for a millennium."
Dash winced. "Yikes."
Publicity nodded. "Moving on, the Spur says Silver Lining is using witchweed."
The stormcloud-coated stallion rolled his eyes. "Because boosting my wingpower a little is so worth molting every feather on my body in a few months."
"And we don't test for that kind of thing at all," said Spitfire.
"Right?" Publicity turned back to the list. "The Royal Enquirer claims that Blaze is a clone of Spitfire."
Blaze barked out a laugh and shook her head. "Okay, Pub, I'm curious. Putting aside how ridiculous that is, how are they explaining the whole 'different cutie marks' thing?"
Publicity cleared her throat and tilted up her muzzle. "According to the esteemed arcane scholars at the Enquirer, a young, unmarked Spitfire was dragged into the Everfree Forest by some cult and forced into a magic lake. Apparently they wanted to make some kind of personal air force."
"They just keep getting more and more ridiculous."
"The magic lake's real though," said Dash.
Everypony turned to her again. "Seriously?" said Blaze.
"Seriously. Had to round up, like, fifty Pinkie Pies and make them watch paint dry."
"You gotta be kidding me."
"Nice thing about life in Ponyville, it's rarely dull."
Fleetfoot smirked. "No kidding. Anything else, Pub?"
"Just the one." Publicity nodded at Spitfire. "Cap, you're going to love this one. Midnight Star, 'The Steamy Latest on Soarin' and Spitfire."
The entire room burst into laughter, save for Rainbow Dash. Misty Fly nudged her. "C'mon, rookie, don't tell me you actually thought they were a couple."
"No! Of course not!" If anypony asked, the heat in Dash's cheeks was a delayed reaction to the day's practice.
"It's okay, Dash," said Soarin'. "We get that a lot."
"Comes with being the most prominent, highest ranking mare and stallion in the outfit," said Spitfire. "Stand together in enough photos and ponies start to read more into it."
"So, uh, why wouldn't it work?" The wing fidgeting was just a cooldown exercise for preventing cramps. Same for Dash's eyes darting from side to side. Eye cramps were the worst. "You know, just out of curiosity."
Spitfire nodded, one corner of her mouth tugging up. "Of course. Well, besides the fraternization bylaws—"
Soarin’ straightened up, head high, wings out, eyes closed. “Wonderbolts Hoofbook, Section 3, Subsection B, Paragraph 4, Sentence 2.” He relaxed and smirked. “‘Don’t.’”
Spitfire snickered. “Not exactly verbatim, but that’s the gist. Besides that, Soarin’s not exactly my type. Guy’s got zero ambition." She gave him a nod. "No offense.”
“Uh, some taken. I mean, I am second-in-command of the top stunt flying team in Equestria.”
“Yeah, by seniority. You coast on talent so much, you might as well be part albatross. Just because you can get away with eating whole pies doesn’t mean you should.”
Soarin' sighed, rolling his eyes. “Come on, Cap, don’t start this again.”
“All I’m saying is that you could learn something from Rainbow Dash. If anypony else could manage a Rainboom—“
“Okay, I get it!” Soarin' groaned, moving to his locker.
“All I'm asking for is a little actual effort. Is that so much?”
Soarin' came to a halt before turning back to face Spitfire. “Oh, I’m sorry, Captain. Why don’t you bend over so I can see how thick the stick up my rear should be?”
Dash gulped. She looked around. Several other Wonderbolts were filtering out of the room as quietly as they could. Publicity Stunt was nowhere to be seen. “Uh, guys?”
“You really talking that way to your commanding officer, Clipper?” Spitfire had the same low tone that usually meant trouble for something when coming out of one of Dash's friends.
“My CO? No. The mare who left me keeping a hospital bed warm because she was dumb enough to try to get the Bearer of feathering Loyalty to change teams during the Equestria Games qualifiers?" Soarin' stepped closer, making a point of looking down at Spitfire. "Maybe.”
She took flight, giving herself the high ground. “I didn’t see you coming up with any bright ideas after that dragon canned us!”
He matched her altitude. “Neither were you!”
Fleetfoot chuckled at Rainbow’s side. “Nice work, Crash. Now they’re gonna kill each other.”
Both glared at her. “Shut up, Flatfoot!”
She stiffened and saluted. “Shutting up, Ma’am, Sir.”
The locker room went silent. The stragglers trickled out, nopony making eye contact with Spitifre or Soarin’. After a few minutes, only they and Rainbow Dash were left.
Dash coughed into a fetlock. “Uh, sorry.”
“It’s okay, Rainbow.” Soarin’ sighed. “I think we needed that.”
Spitfire nodded. “Didn’t know you were still sore over the Games qualifiers.”
“Little bit, yeah.” Soarin’ offered his hoof. “We’re cool now?”
“Well, I do still think you could apply yourself more.”
“And I still think you need to stop smuggling Califoalnia redwoods under your tail.”
Spitfire smirked “Well, that’s normal for us. I’d say we’re cool.” She bumped Soarin’s hoof, then turned to Dash. “I trust that answers your question.”
Rainbow gulped and nodded. “Yes, Ma’am.”
“Good. Now head to my office. Happy as I am to have you on the team, it's long past time we hash out how we're going to handle what you've told me about Princess Twilight’s coffee table.”
Dash saluted, standing a little easier. “Yes, Ma’am.”
That night, Rainbow Dash lay on her bed, her eyes pointed at the ceiling but seeing nothing. Finally, she turned over, opened the drawer of her nightstand, and extracted a thick sheaf of paper. She stared at it for the better part of a minute.
Finally, she put back Daring Do and the Totally Awesome Threesome, shrugged, and said, "Eh. Still my headcanon."
