The thing Soarin could never understand about Spitfire was the fact that she blamed him for his actions. He'd kissed Rainbow Dash, sure, but it wasn't his fault! In fact, given a do-over, he probably would have refused do it and walked away. Okay, that might be a lie. But it still wasn't his fault. They'd been sitting at a cafe in Cloudsdale, having a totally unsuggestive lunch, when Dash had asked innocently if they could kiss. He'd though, sure, Spitfire wasn't around. What could it hurt? Unfortunately, Dash's idea of a kiss was a complete make-out session in a public, outdoor cafe. So, yeah, about ten other ponies saw and somehow word had gotten back to Spitfire within the five minutes it took for him to fly back to the academy. She had been been pretty angry about it, but in an eerily calm way. The way she was when she was too upset to freak out. Because if she freaked out then, someone was likely to end up dead.
He had stopped in his tracks when he'd seen her standing there with the look on her face. He just about wet his suit at the bolt of fear that zinged through him. She never wore that look unless she was about to use the Locker.
Spitfire had checked to make sure no one else was around before grabbing his mane and dragging him like a sack of leftover hayburgers into the locker room. Her locker was already popped open, so she had clearly thought out the punishment.
As she tried to shove him inside, Soarin had protested. "You can't be serious! You can't leave me in here!"
But Spitefire was stronger, as surprising as that might be. She nudged and pushed him into the locker and clicked the door closed on his nose. "It's just for a couple of hours while I get my mane done. No hard feelings?" Then she had trotted out and left him crammed up against her papers and miscellaneous junk.
Hearing her hoofsteps fade out of the room, Soarin sagged to the bottom of the tiny space, trying to get comfortable. He hated the way it smelled in there, always musty. He suspected she'd left some food in the locker at one point and forgotten to properly clean the cracks out. Though, that would be kind of a big health hazard, so he doubted someone as rule-kissing as Spitfire would do that. Besides, they'd all been ordered to clean their lockers at the beginning of the week.
Then he remembered that he was stuck in a locker.
He sighed. "Why do I let her do this to me?" He tried to peek through the vent slits in the little door, but they faced down, so all he got were glimpses of the tile floor. I'm not a colt anymore. I've got to show that girl who's boss. Well...actually, she's the boss. He sucked in a lungful of air from the vents, then scooted deeper into the locker and maneuvered his legs around so he could put his hind hoofs to the door. "I'm not going to let her trap me in here anymore," he muttered decisively. With a grunt, he kicked out. THUD. The door remained closed, but it had budged. He coiled up and kicked again, praying the door would open this time so he wouldn't break his legs on it. POP. The door swung open violently, hitting its neighboring locker with a jarring bang. Soarin tumbled to the floor, panting.
With a smile of relief, he brushed his mane out of his face and sat up. "Well, what do you know! I escaped! I shoulda tried that years ago."
He laid back on the floor and stretched languidly, easing his cramped back. It was so quiet, he could almost imagine he was snug in bed, getting some well-deserved rest. If the floor had been softer, he might have fallen asleep right then and there. For a few moments, he just closed his eyes and relished the silence and cool tiles. Nice alone time, since most everypony else had gone out to the track to practice. Then a little noise made his ear twitch. He opened his eyes and found himself staring into two sea green orbs.
"Aaah!" he gasped.
"Hey, Soarin!" Misty Fly grinned. She didn't seem the least bit uncomfortable with standing over him like she was. "Whatcha doing laying around for?"
He smiled nervously. "Whew, I thought you were Spitfire. What are you doing, Misty?"
She picked up one hoof to wave around while she talked. "I was practicing, but I got thirsty and came in for a drink, then I saw you over here and I was like, 'what's he doing?' So I came over and here I am." She backed off and let Soarin sit up.
"So where's Spitfire?" he asked.
Misty Fly wrapped a foreleg around his neck and made a dramatic gesture with the other one. "She's getting a makeover!" Then she took a bunch of his mane in her mouth and started to pull. "Come on! I want to show you my new tricks!"
She lead the wincing Soarin out of the locker room by his hair, and all he could think to say in his astonished condition was "okay." That was how he ended up watching Misty Fly do various loops and spirals over the ground for almost an hour straight. He wasn't particularly impressed, seeing as he was a captain himself and could do everything she was showing him and more. But he wasn't one to crush someone's dreams while they thought they were showing off. Still, he was relieved when she finally touched down in front of him and pushed her goggles up. "Whatcha think?"
"Amazing." He managed to keep most of the sarcasm out of his monotone voice.
She beamed. "Aw, you're too kind!"
He rolled his eyes. "Thanks, but I kinda gotta go."
"Well, thanks for your time, buddy!" She ruffled his already messy mane and walked away smiling.
Soarin watched her leave and shook his head. The crazy mare. He turned towards Ponyville, thinking he might just be able to grab a snack before he would have to return to Cloudsdale. He wondered what he was supposed to do when he got back. Hide? Get back in the locker and take his punishment so Spitfire wouldn't become even angrier at him? Take a nap? (That last choice was so tempting.) He dragged his hoofs as he entered the village, frowning deep in thought, until a shriek jerked his head up.
"YOUR MANE!!" A pearl white unicorn mare he knew as Rarity was gaping at him in horror. If she hadn't just stated the reason, he would have assumed there was a giant dragon behind him that she was scared of.
"My...mane?" He'd know it was messy, but from her reaction he guessed he must have underestimated just how messy.
Rarity launched forward and latched on to one of his forelegs with one of her own. "Come with me! This is just dreadful. I simply must help you with your disaster of a mane." She pulled him directly into the boutique Soarin hadn't noticed they were in front of, and shut the door before he could protest. She then planted him in a salon chair and began levitating various hair care tools. Sinking into his seat, Soarin had a feeling she wasn't going to let him leave anytime soon. Sigh.
He wasn't gonna lie, having somepony massage and trim your mane is very relaxing, but for two hours? Rarity had been fluffing, gelling, and snipping his mane with vigor, but now, even she was starting to despair. She moaned and threw down her scissors. "Oh, this is just awful! I can't do anything with it!" Her shimmering magic surrounded Soarin and lifted him from the chair.
"What-" he started to exclaim.
Rarity clopped over to the front door and heaved him outside, slamming the door behind him. "Get out of my sight!"
"Oof!" He slid across the grass, then sat up groggily. He hadn't been given a chance to see how his mane looked currently, so he twisted and tried to see it on his neck. Okay, so she'd smoothed it down and straight-trimmed it almost like Twilight Sparkle's mane. "Uuh..." He grimaced.
A burst of baritone, almost bored sounding laughter made him look up. A big red stallion he knew as... um... He searched his brain for a second... Oh, yes. Big Mac. Big Mac was looking at him and chuckling.
Soarin pouted. "What's so funny?" he muttered, although he was pretty sure he knew what.
The larger stallion cleared his throat. "You look like Twilight Sparkle," he said honestly.
