A Pegasus Too Far

by stanku

Rating: mature
Tags: Slice of Life, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Thunderlane, Sad, Romance, Rainbow Dash, Treehugger, Fluttershy, Sex
Length: 14026

Ponies and polyamory make a natural fit only with well-engineered hinges. How can harmony grow amidst minds each wanting something different from the others?

The love affair of Dash, Fluttershy, and Thunderlane finds its final shape with only sharp corners available for everypony. New friction emerges as Tree Hugger and Helia add their own feelings into the mix that has been brewing for full eight seasons already.

This is my most personal story yet. It might be the last pony fic I’ll ever write.

I don’t expect this means much to you.

But I felt like saying it nonetheless.

Published 2017-05-07 13:20:01 UTC
Last updated 2017-05-29 22:08:50 UTC

I: Presence Filled to the Brim

A difficult to describe air of tranquility hung over Fluttershy's house. The way the last light of the setting sun hit the thatched roof, the manner in which the faint wind sort of slowed down near the walls – as if trying to eavesdrop – and, lastly, the evanescent music that caught you right at the edge of hearing over the riverstream. An air of tranquility. Nothing so becalming had ever stressed Rainbow Dash to such a degree.

The cool autumn air steamed as she snorted. She walked in.

”Hi Shy” she called out at the door. A turn of breath passed before she added, only a tad sharper, ”For you too, Hugs.”

As an answer of sorts, traces of moaning cascaded through the curtains covering the entrance to the living room. If sounds could have been described by tastes, this one would've been nothing sort of mountain salt for Dash.

”Don't mind me,” she yelled, way louder than was necessary for them to hear. The same thing could be said about the kick she gave to the door to shut it. ”Just passing through. Practically on my way home already. Just keep on doing... whatever you're doing...”

She marched into the kitchen while the humming moaning continued uninterrupted. Even there Dash could hear it clear as rain. The picture drawing itself on her mind was just as vivid. A floor flooded with pillows. Colored smoke everywhere. An aged gramophone playing a song like a dying... something. The whole shebang. And in the middle of it all, two bodies floating like clouds, mingling like clouds, breathing like flowers...

Dash blinked. The sandwich she had been making was but a ruin of mayonnaise and salad, for the force she had used to make it. Bleak yellow stains stared at her from the carpet. She made no effort to clean them.

”GoshdarnitwhaddadayIhad,” she exclaimed while striding through the curtains and crashing on a couch. Half of the sandwich disappeared at her first bite. A spray of crumbs spread on the room as she continued to speak and chew simultaneously. ”The batch of rain clouds arrived from 'Dale this morning, like planned. Except that some egghead had botched again and we got forty clouds instead of twenty. Figures.” She ceased chewing. ”Right? Am I right?”

”Yes,” gasped Fluttershy, eyes closed.

”Right,” said Dash, starting to chew again. ”So, you'd think we just send the extras back the boomerang way, yeah? The reasonable thing to do. But, I figured, why not –”

”Yes!” yelped Fluttershy again. Her back arched as her wings unfolded against the pillows, lifting her trembling, sweaty body like a gale. ”Yes, yes, yes, yes yes yes yes yesyesyesyessss...” She panted, squeezed her eyes tighter shut and tensed like a bow, only to unwind after a lengthy, highly girlish squeal which tenderly faded into a reverberating moan.

”Good...” said Tree Hugger, raising her head from between Fluttershy's thighs. ”That was goood, Shy... The vibes, like, soared there... Yeah, soared...” She licked her lips clean, then relaxed back against the foot of an armchair. Only then did her dreamy eyes turn slowly to Dash. ”Oh, hello D. How's the vibes been?”

Dash forced her mouth shut. ”You... you just noticed me?”

The pools of high lavendel didn't so much as stir. ”No, D, I didn't. What, have you been there for long...?”

Long enough, Dash almost replied. Instead, she looked at Fluttershy, who kept quivering like a pound of jelly. ”You heard me coming in, right?”

”Yes,” whispered Fluttershy after a moment. Little by little, her eyes cracked open. The characteristic, mountain lake-like clarity of them shimmered, as if cloaked by fine mist. ”At least I think I did... It might've been a dream I saw you in...”

Tree Hugger relaxed her front leg on the seat. ”Oh, that makes me so jelly... Drifting off like that, it's so rare, Shy... Congrats.”

Dash choked on her bread. ”You're... you're calling falling asleep during sex an achievement?!”

The look Tree gave her might've been called baffled, but the thing was that, at least for Dash, that was what she always looked like. ”What, you've never...? But I thought you two had been together for ages...”

”Just forget it,” spat Dash. She finished the sandwich in a few messy gulps, all the while eyeballing the light green mare like she had been one of Fluttershy's more extraordinary pets. ”So... You arrived today?”

Tree Hugger, with no care in the world, reached for a cup of greenish liquid, sipped it, and then relaxed her head back so that all that Dash could see of her face was a pair of nostrils. ”To town, yesterday,” she said.

A silence ensued. In Dash's mind, it demanded to be filled. ”And you're staying for how long exactly, this time?”

Tree's shoulder's vibrated. It took Dash a moment to realize she had shrugged.

”Fine,” Dash said, standing up. ”I expect you're sleeping here. Yeah, why wouldn't you. I'd tell you to make yourself at home, but you've done it already. And this ain't even my home. Come to think of it, can't see why I'm welcoming you anywhere then. Or why I'm still here, this not being my home. Got to go home. Bye.” The last words were uttered from the doorstep. Shortly, a swoosh came from the outside. And after that, nothing.

”What's her deal, anyway?” said Tree Hugger at some point of the evening.

”Hmm?” said Fluttershy. ”Oh, with Dash? Why?”

”It might just be me... but she did seem kind of tense...”

Fluttershy stared at the roof. The shadows had covered it and were gradually sliding along the walls like liquid. The deepest autumn had arrived. Enough to kill the light of day completely, but not so to replace it with fresh snow. Just like last year.

”I don't think she means anything by it,” Fluttershy said. ”She has these cranky days. Everypony does.”

Tree Hugger straightened her head, cracked her neck. ”Funny how she has them every time I'm around.”

”You've kept count?”

”You haven't?”

Fluttershy sighed. The prospect of standing up tickled at the back of her mind. There was still work to do, and soon it would be dark. She hated working in the dark, even with glowworms around. On the other hoof, never before had the pillows felt this soft. And her eyes were closing on their own already...

”I can talk about it with her,” said Fluttershy. ”Tomorrow, if that's okay.”

”However you want to handle it, Shy,” said Tree's voice from the kitchen. It always amazed Fluttershy how unnoticeably the pony could move. ”It's all between you and her.”

A waft of cinnamon, mixed with a spice she could not quite name, told Fluttershy her friend had returned with a fresh cup of the special tea. In a sense it shared essence with its maker. Fluttershy had once seen both calm down a tiger with a stick stuck to a paw.

”I know,” Fluttershy said. ”But I don't think she sees it that way.”

She felt Tree Hugger sit down next to her. The scent of her fur matched perfectly that of the tea. Fluttershy let her hoof climb over her friend's back, then come down to close her into a half-embrace. Lazy as that seemed, it was still the fullest touch Fluttershy had ever known. Presence filled to the brim.

”You want more?” asked the voice like a string-instrument.

Fluttershy couldn't help but giggle. ”You mean tea or... the other thing...”

”Everything.”

Fluttershy squeezed her tighter. ”I couldn't possibly ask for more. Not one bit.”

A hoof like the finest brush caressed her mane. ”You never asked for anything. I never offered nothing. It just happens.”

The hoof travelled down Fluttershy’s neck and side, spreading warmth. A hairline crack appeared between her moist lips. ”That's what you always say...”

”Never before, Shy,” came the answer. ”Never before, and never again. Presence shuns all evers. You should, too.”

The hoof dived between her thighs the same moment their lips met. By then it was dark already. By then Fluttershy didn't care.

Presence held its sway now.

***

Thunderlane stood unblinking as his focus drained through the grid of black needlepoints ordained in geometric harmony. There was a picture there. The deep-orange veins of rust snaked across and between the tiny holes, forming a network of scars on the chromed surface. An occasional drop of water broke through the grid like something alive.

“Oh, for sky’s sake…” said the familiar, raspy voice behind him. “Come on, Lane – there’s others waiting, and it’ll be even colder for them if you don’t get a move on.”

Thunderlane blinked. A moment later the few drops exploded into a flood which hit him straight to the face. As always in the autumn, the water was freezing.

He turned to look behind, but Dash had already moved into her own shower, where she was furiously washing away the sweat of the day. Many a pony would have missed it, but for Thunderlane it was clear that she was in a hurry. Well, that wasn’t to say a lot. Dash was always in a hurry. But more so today than usual.

He turned the water up so that the icy downpour covered most of his body. At least it gave him something else to think about.

“You guys, I’m going now!” called Dash by the door. “Last pony to leave, remember to tidy up. I thought bloody Tirek had cracked in the morning, the mess the showers were. Sharpen up, people! Like it or not, winter is coming. See ya!”

“See ya,” said Thunderlane, joining the chore of unsorted goodbyes that flew after her as she jolted away. Only, his farewell was more aimed at the shower wall. In the grand scheme of things, it made little practical difference. He resumed washing himself until he could barely hold the soap anymore for the shaking.

It was Thunderlane’s turn to be the last pony. The team moved the title in shifts so as not to encourage competition where peace was needed. Not that he terribly minded the job. Actually he preferred it, nowadays. Cleaning the soapy walls and floors, drying up the locker rooms, locking the doors – one could easily go through all that with not so much as a thought crossing their mind. Not as effective as a cold shower, but certainly more productive. And more healthy, in the long term.

Still, once or twice he caught himself drawing a soapy pattern very much like a rainbow with the mop…

....only to clean it up with a single careful stroke.

By the time he locked the door behind him, the sun was well on its way to greeting the horizon. The glow behind the treetops of Everfree lit every leaf – which were already dipped in all the shades between red and yellow – aflame. The sight obliged one to feel warm despite the chill.

“Hi,” said a voice. Thunderlane turned to it, the hopeful spark already shining in his eye –

“Oh,” he said. “Hi for you too. Forgot something in the locker? No problem, I’ll open it –”

“I forgot nothing,” said Helia. She leaned casually against a wall, casually brushed the azure scarf wrapped around her neck. All around she seemed like a pony who had thought very carefully about the true meaning of casualness. “I just, you know, happened to stick around… got nothing to do for the evening, really… sooo maybe you’d like, you know… go get a drink or something?”

“Sure,” said Thunderlane. “Who else’s coming?”

“Well… I am.”

Something in the way she said that poked a wall in Thunderlane’s mind. But it was a much-poked wall in the first place, so he let it slide. Especially when the road to the closest bar went smoothly and definitely without poking of any kind.

“You okay with Strutting Deer?” she asked as they walked down the main road.

“Not really,” he answered. “The deco is all too foreign for me.”

She gave him a sly smile. “I never thought you’d care about such things.”

“Why, because I’m a stud?”

“Because I’ve seen your room…”

“That proves nothing!” he exclaimed. “It’s just… Well, it’s my first own room. I like keeping it in the original condition as much as possible.”

She nodded knowingly. “Nostalgia does explain the soccer-and-dragon tapestry like nothing else.”

In counter Thunderlane first thought of making a biting remark about her room, but realized he had never been there. Which lead him to wonder when exactly had she been in his room. Try as he did, he couldn’t recall any such time.

“You ever thought of moving on your own?” she said. “I mean, my mother gifted me a stack of apartment notices when I turned 20.”

Thunderlane chuckled at that. “At this point, we’re so deep in each other’s manes, my mother and I, that separation would turn out more painful than coping with it. But every cleaning day I start looking for those shears…”

“How about the Blueberry Inn?” she suggested. “Haven’t been there for ages. Doesn’t Cheery still keep it going?”

“I wouldn't know,” Thunderlane said much too quickly. He coughed at Helia’s raised eyebrow and continued, “Uh, the Inn and I don’t agree very well. A long story. Not interesting. Deer will do fine, too.”

“How about my place?”

Thunderlane opened his mouth and only then conceived he had no follow up. The intense casualness radiating from her gaze definitely demanded one.

“Okay,” he blurted. “Uh. Yeah, why not. Let’s just, uh, drop in a shop first? I got no drinks on me.”

Helia waved a dismissive hoof. “It’s okay, I got plenty left over from team’s last party. I’ll never be able to finish them alone.”

“Always glad to be of help,” said Thunderlane, and immediately regretted the cheesy choice. But she only smiled at him. She often did, now that he thought about it.

Helia’s house was near the town centre; a literal stone's throw away from the town hall, if you packed enough punch. It was a two-storey flat, the upper part of which belonged all to her, she told. The view from the living room’s large window encompassed a handsome part of the town, all the way to the Apple Acres.

“Impressive,” said Thunderlane, admiring the sight. Behind him, a sharp hiss signaled an opened cider.

“Thanks,” she said. Via the reflection in the window, he watched her lap up the liquid foaming over. “It’s probably the nicest thing about this place. The rent’s killing me, and at winter the floor turns into an ice skate course. Thin insulation, see.”

Thunderlane started strolling around the apartment. “So, you just skate around the house then? Must be nice.”

“Sure, if you’re a penguin. Thick socks will have to do for me. Luckily, my grandmother quit smoking recently, so she has nothing better left to do for her hooves than knitting.”

The picture of Helia in kneesocks unfolded in Thunderlane’s eyes. He felt a lot warmer already.

“The fridge is packed full so help yourself,” called Helia into the kitchen where he had wandered.” There’s some leftover salad too, if you’re hungry.”

“Noted,” said Thunderlane, opening the fridge door. Alcohol certainly wasn’t lacking there, and the lettuce tomato salad practically begged to be tasted. But on the bottom shelf, something else drew his attention.

“Why do you have small metal balls in the fridge?” he asked while returning to the living room with a bottle under his wing. “In a chain?”

“I do?” said Helia. “Uhm… right, I do. Uh. For nothing, really. Just some… experiment I’m working on.” She flashed him a smile while chewing the end of her mane, probably to hide the traces of blush on her cheeks. A summer spent with Fluttershy had awarded Thunderlane with a knack for spotting fine signs of modesty. The pony contained enough material for a book on that front.

“Okay,” he said, and left it at that. He sat down on the opposite end of the couch.

For a while, neither said anything.

“This is a nice couch,” tried Thunderlane.

“It’s from my parents,” said Helia quickly. “Glad you like it. I love it. You wouldn’t believe the fun we’ve had, my sister and me, with it – I mean, it’s a miracle it’s still in one piece. This one time –”

And on she went. Thunderlane listened dutifully, with the occasional nod and smirk, although he couldn’t avoid the notion that she was grasping at straws insofar as topics were concerned. Who could honestly tell a tale so excitedly about an old couch? Clearly she craved to talk… either in general, or with me in particular, he deduced.

“– don’t you think?” finished Helia.

“Yes,” said Thunderlane after a brief moment of distracted panic. “Yeah, just like you said.” He shifted the pillows under him, and inched a little closer to the other end of the furniture. “You live here alone, you said?”

“Well, it kind of goes without saying,” said Helia. “I know it’s a lot of room for a single person, but the space wears out quicker than you’d think. Besides, I like living roomy.”

“This room seems empty enough,” said Thunderlane, waving around with a hoof. As he stopped, he had discreetly moved another inch on the couch. “Got a bedroom like a jungle, yeah?”

“In the good days,” she conceded. “In the bad ones, you wanna steer clear away from there. The socks alone would overcome you easily.”

“I don’t mind the occasional challenge,” he mused and added, “In bedroom or otherwise.”

The couch wasn’t that long, and Thunderlane had already covered over half its length. It seemed Helia realized this only now. She blinked, watched him up and down, and coughed into a hoof. “Oh. Good for you.” All of a sudden, the view from the window consumed all of her attention.

Thunderlane felt how something was slipping through his hooves. A sense of falling arose from nothing. For a pegasus, that’s one nasty feeling.

He slipped a hoof over her shoulder, leaned closer until her breath washed over his, closed his eyes…

“What are you doing?”

Thunderlane opened his eyes. Across the gap of infinity, Helia was staring back at him.

“I…” he began. He got no farther when Helia had already stood up.

“It’s getting late,” she said, walking over to the kitchen with not a glance dedicated for him. “Got work tomorrow. Bye.”

The door closed behind her quieter than a butterfly sneezes. For Thunderlane it was a gunshot next to his ear.

He got so far as to the next block before realizing what had happened, another three crossroads until he got what had really happened. He landed in front of the Sugarcube Corner, sat down on a bench there. The moon was not up yet, but the sun was long gone. Late night birds were busy opening their voices. Some passersby greeted him from a distance.

She’ll probably play it cool tomorrow, he thought. Oh, Celestia. She’s so going to play it cool on me tomorrow...

Why did I do it? What was I thinking? Did I read her all wrong? Did I read at all?

He felt ashamed. He felt ashamed of feeling ashamed. Shame was all his world, all the weight there was. The thought of breaking something had a dark, sweet ring to it. Broken things crave for company of kin the same as everything else.

Helia the script was not, on the whole, completely novel reading for Thunderlane. Of course she wasn’t. They had known for, what, since he had joined the team? Or before that? He had a vague sense that they had been on the same class in school, but that couldn’t be true – she was supposed to be older than him. Or was it the other way around?

I really don’t know anything about her, do I…? Not anything I wouldn't have thought of knowing, at least…

And still I tried to –

He slammed a hoof against the planks under him. If nothing else, that left a dent on the paintwork.

“Jeez, I wonder where that came from?” said a voice above him.

“Well?” continued Dash as Thunderlane’s stare stretched over ten seconds. “Got a stroke, or are you just glad to see me?”

“How long have you been there?” Thunderlane asked slowly.

Dash rolled her eyes. “Why does everypony have so hard time noticing me tonight ? Am I turning invisible or what?”

“What?” said Thunderlane.

“Never mind. Are you finally gonna make me some room down there?”

Without a word, Thunderlane moved over on the bench. Dash sat squarely next to him, stretched her limbs and wings before settling down. He could not help but notice how their hooves almost touched on the smooth wood.

“How’ve you been holding?” she asked.

“Fine,” answered Thunderlane immediately. “Fine.”

“Glad to hear,” said Dash. She leaned forward, exposing the wings folded over her back. Even in the dim, the sheer power and grace they emanated drew his attention like an explosion in the far horizon. “Me, not so much. Tree Hugger came to Fluttershy’s place today. Again. What, just last month she spent a week there! You’d think she had a house of her own to take care of. In a tree or somewhere.”

“Tree Hugger?” asked Thunderlane distantly, still mesmerized by the cyan feathery wonders. The insides of his hoof itched to touch them, if only on the shadow of an accidental brush. “Do I know her?”

“Suppose not,” sighed Dash. “No wonder. She’s not one to stick around. Comes and goes as she pleases. Like the wind. You can’t come to know a pony like that. Every time I see her, it’s like the first time.”

The question why exactly was she telling him all this crossed Thunderlane’s mind, but not noticeably enough to interfere with distraction that were her wings. Of all her magnificent features, those had always struck him as the most awesome. A metaphor of speed condensed into reality they were. Maybe just a little, tiny skim…

“What’s her deal with Fluttershy, anyway?” burst Dash, suddenly straightening herself against the bench right as Thunderlane managed to withdraw his hoof. “She tells me they met in a plant expo or something. An expo! That’s, like, meeting in a museum!”

“I’m not sure what’s wrong with–”

“Whatever,” snorted Dash. She paved the ground with a leg while staring into the autumn abyss. “What does she see in her, even?”

“Maybe you should ask?”

“Blah,” said Dash. She turned a sour look to him. “Should’ve known you’d say that.”

“Why?”

“Because that’s the buckin stand-up thing to say,” said Dash, sinking on the bench until her head was on level with Thunderlane’s hips. From the horizontal position, the magenta eyes stared at him mercilessly. “You’re the most stand-up pony I ever met. Straight as a plank. So why’d you lie to me just there?”

Thunderlane blinked. “Where?”

Nimble as a cat, Dash bounced up on all fours. “The whole punching of benches at night kind of goes against the definition of ‘fine’, don’t you think? And the thing in the showers earlier…”

Thunderlane’s ears drooped. “You noticed that, too?”

“Sure I did. I’m your coach, dummy. Among other things. So tell me: what’s up? For reals?”

He gave her a ghost of a smile. “You tell me. Coach.”

She looked at him in silence. She was better at that than many knew, he reflected.

“Well, I didn’t push you in the showers, and I’m not gonna push you now,” she said eventually. “Just know that you can always come talking to me, whatever it’s about. We got enough history for that much, yeah?”

“What if it’s that history I want to talk about?”

The words came out before Thunderlane could even hope to stop them. Now they occupied an eon’s worth of space between them, splattered for all the world to see in their naked muteness. He wanted to shovel the mess back up so bad the incremental ounce or two of dirt wouldn’t have made any difference. But first and foremost he only wished to throw up more.

“So why don’t you?” said Dash simply.

“Because… Because that’s something I can’t tell to a coach,” struggled Thunderlane. “And if that’s all you are for me anymore…”

Dash looked confused. “You’re saying that’s not enough? Being a couch?”

“I don’t know,” burst Thunderlane. Never before had he wished to be somewhere else and right here at the same time. There were things his soul craved to say but which his tongue couldn’t formulate, and things which his brain had spent weeks jamming to the deepest confines of his heart. “I don’t know what’s enough anymore… I know things are as they should be, like they used to be; but I feel there’s something missing… displaced… I see you practically every day, train with you, shower with you, and it's good, it’s all good. We’re friends. Good friends. And then I try to reach out a bit more, a bit further, and I feel… I feel you shut me down. And then I get this feeling you’re just a coach; just a friend. But for me, you’re something more. Always will be.”

He tried to smile softly at the end, but for the trembling couldn’t manage better than a silly smirk.

Dash on the other hoof had no trouble looking directly awkward. “Uh… Yeah, about that… Gosh. Not lying, you kind of got me speechless there…” She laughed shortly, rubbing the back of her head with a hoof. “Maybe… maybe we should figure this out later, yeah? It’s getting late. Got work tomorrow – for the whole week actually. Yeah. So… See ya?”

She was starting to leave. Something was slipping away. The déja vu made Thunderlane’s head spin. Her wings opened in rhythm with his half-hearted goodbyes; he wanted to reach out, grab her, hold her, make her see…

…But she was already always gone.

In the dim quiet of Ponyville center, a sound very much like a plank splitting in two echoed.

II: A Friend of a Friend

Seasonal shifts were always the busiest time for the weather team, but on many scales the jump between autumn and winter hit the peak and went right through to the other side of the rush o'meter. The reason for the extra hustle was nothing short of technical: it was in general a lot easier to add warmth than to take it away. To bring down the temperature in a controlled and correct manner demanded precision and a lot of effort, from organizing cloud patterns to adjusting the wind and so on.

Dash was always fond of calling her profession an art. Helia wouldn’t have disagreed, not as such. All things considered, the line between science and art hadn’t ever been that well-founded for her anyway. What bothered her was that Dash seemed rather less keen on seeing the issue from that perspective.

“You’re saying you still haven’t got them?” Dash was asking her.

Helia interrupted her calculations to raise an eyebrow. “If you want the math done quicker, you’re welcome to help anytime you want.”

Dash’s expression hinted that something big and hairy was on its way climbing up her throat. The word “math” often had that effect on her, as Helia well knew.

“You sure we can’t use the schemas from last year?” said Dash. Sitting on the desk coated with papers, she pulled one from under her for closer inspection. “I mean, it’s the same sky and all…”

Helia sighed lightly. “No, Dash, it’s not. Not on paper. There’s a thousand and one variables we can’t control out there, a million which we’re not even aware of, all changing every year, every second. The weather is a fine instrument: tune it wrong and instead of lovely music you get horrible garble.” She yanked a half-finished equation from under Dash’s bottom, only to notice that the ink had ran all over the paper. It was at times like these that she felt there was nowhere near enough coffee in the universe to keep her working.

“So what if we get a few digits off the optimum?” said Dash, landing on the floor. “You said it yourself: we can’t control everything. So why not go with the good old gut feeling, yeah? Like the real masters used to do it, back in the day…”

Helia scrunched the ruined calculation and tossed it into the bin. “You know, why not? Why not, indeed. Just go ahead, splatter some clouds around and call it a day, hmm? Never mind the wasted cumulus material, the bucked up air pressure ratios, the uncontrolled temperature shifts – the whole shebang! Buck it all!”

It was Dash’s turn to raise an eyebrow. “Hey, easy there. No offense meant.”

“Right,” said Helia, correcting her reading glasses. For a moment she simply stared at the opposite wall. “Could you go now, please? I’m kind of busy at the moment.”

Dash, with no care in the world, pulled a chair under her and sat on it wrong way round, right opposite to her. “Tell me about it.”

Helia grunted in frustration. “Didn’t I just? You can’t expect me to get anything done if you come here every other hour telling me to hurry up!”

Dash tipped the chair so it leaned against the desk edge. “Of course I can: this is just the first time it’s not working. Something’s up, isn’t it? And don’t tell me the schedule’s too tight, because it always is. So why don’t you try and tell me about it? No harm in trying.”

“It’s bit of a private matter,” said Helia after a while. “And I’m not sure if I’m comfortable sharing it with my boss.”

“How about with a friend?”

Helia studied her through a thick lense of dubiousness. There was no question whether Dash truly was a friend – there was probably nopony in town who could claim the contrary. And that was exactly the issue. Dash was a friend of everypony – not of Helia specifically. The real question then was, how much of “everypony” there was in her?

“I had a rough evening,” she said. “Nothing special there. Happens to everypony sometimes. I’ll be fine right as I get the work rolling.”

“Rough how?” pressed Dash.

Helia sprang up. “I told you, it’s private! Boss or no, you got no right asking me everything you please! What, you think it’s your duty, patronizing me all the time? That I need you solving my problems?”

“Patronizing?” managed Dash, who had almost fallen backwards on her chair. “What have you been drinking?”

“I got no time for this,” said Helia. She grabbed a wingful of paper from the desk and marched to the door without another glance at Dash. “I’ll be working from home this week. Goodbye.”

“Hey, wait!” said Dash, flying after her before she could bang the door shut. The corridor was narrow, but not enough so to stop her from intercepting Helia’s way. The fact hindered her progress not in the slightest. “Look, I’m sorry,” continued Dash while rapidly flying backwards down the corridor.” For whatever patro-thing you think I did. I’m sorry. Could you please stop now?”

To Dash’s great amazement, she did. She froze on the spot, staring right at her. “Thanks,” sighed Dash. “Now, how about we start fresh, yeah? In the fresh air, maybe? It’s almost lunchtime already: I can buy you a – “

“Helia?” said someone behind her. Dash turned, and saw Thunderlane carrying a box of flying goggles and staring at her just like Helia did from the opposite end of the isle. With the exception that, on second thought, they were actually both staring at each other, and she had been merely caught in the line of fire.

Thunderlane made a move forward. “Helia. Please, can we talk?”

“Guys?” said Dash, looking at him and her in turns. “What’s going on?”

Helia dropped the papers and vanished back into her office before they had hit the floor. By the time Dash and Thunderlane got there, the opened window and flapping curtains were the only sign of her.

“What was that all about?” asked Dash as she pulled back from the window.

Thunderlane made a face like a deer caught in the headlights. “Uh, why you’re asking me?”

Dash served him a hefty dose of the “You’re kidding me” look. He countered with his best blankness, which wasn’t much. Thus he was forced to add, “Anyway, about last night –”

“Don’t you dare change the subject,” she cut in. “We’re talking about Helia now. What’s wrong with her? Did you do something stupid?”

Thunderlane frowned. “You assume I’m at fault again?”

“I’m asking. And what do you mean, again?”

“You know all too well,” said Thunderlane, with a sudden chill in his voice that had nothing to do with the opened window. He shook his head low. “You never change, do you? I guess you don’t need to, when everypony else does that for you. Because you assume they do.”

“What are you on about?”

“Nothing,” said Thunderlane, turning around. “I’m going home for today. Bye.”

“Not you, too!” wailed Dash. “What, you all think this is some hobby or something? Winter’s coming, and we don’t got half the things done we need to! You can’t just –”

The bang of the door ended her sentence. Only later that day she realized it had been the first time Thunderlane had slammed the door on her.

Somehow, she suspected it would not be the last.

***

It had never been common for her and Dash to meet at the latter’s home, thought Fluttershy as she caught the first sight of the cloud house. However, such an arrangement had never been consciously established as far as she knew. There more she pondered about it, the more curious the matter seemed.

Curious was also the way how Dash’s home always looked better towards the end of the day than it did in plain sunshine. The sparser the light grew, the deeper the cloud appeared; as if only dusk could reveal its true colors. And colors there indeed were. All sorts you never thought of seeing in a rainbow.

At the door Fluttershy hesitated a moment. Dash never knocked on her door, but the fact made the reverse seem a tad more unnatural. On the other hoof, Dash always insisted she could march in whenever she wanted to. She herself did it all the time, after all.

I’ll just push the door open a bit and then –

Dash pulled the door open. “Oh, Hi Shy. What’s up?”

“Nothing special,” managed Fluttershy. “Uhm. Well, that’s not the whole truth. I thought we could maybe speak a little. Or were you going somewhere?”

“Nowhere that important,” said Dash. She stepped backwards, gesturing her to follow. “So, do you finally wanna join the team?”

“Oh no, I’m not here for that.” Fluttershy looked around the large hall that joined seamlessly with the even larger living room. The sight of the couch at the back made a memory arise in her, along with a tinge of blush. Had it really been only a year since she, Dash and Thunderlane had… played around here? Such a short time, such a long while…

“What then?” asked Dash, hanging the scarf she had been wearing back on the rack.

Fluttershy tore her eyes from the couch. “It’s about Tree Hugger.”

The corners of Dash’s lips plummeted. “What about her?”

“Actually, it’s not about her, but about you too. About how you act around her. It’s not very polite. I’m sure you’ve noticed yourself,” she added when Dash’s expression didn’t change.

“So what?” said Dash. She broke the eye contact while rising on her wings. “Yeah, we don’t get along so well. Big deal. Not everypony needs to come along.”

Fluttershy followed her fly over her and towards the kitchen. She walked after her while talking. “I would like you two to get along. You’re both my friends. Wouldn't it be nice, hanging together sometimes? Like friends do?”

“She’s not my friend,” said Dash as she crossed the threshold to the kitchen. The ciders on the fridge door clanged as she yanked it open. “And I’m pretty sure she doesn’t need to be. If you don’t like that, shucks. We don’t always get everything we want.” More clinging ensued the when she shut the fridge. “Take me: I want you to join the weather team. We’re in desperate need of wing power right now. Honestly, I can’t promise we can make the first snow come on schedule this year.”

Fluttershy watched her uncork the bottle and empty half of the contents in one go. She couldn’t recall a time before when Dash had been drinking while upset.

“You know I want to help you all I can,” said Fluttershy, following Dash back to the living room. “But you know weather management is not my strong point… I don’t do that well at team sports…”

“And I don’t do that well in tree hugging,” said Dash. She dropped from the air right on the couch and spilled some cider on the floor. “Oh for buck’s sake…”

Fluttershy studied her in concern. “Uhm… Okay then. I’ll do it.”

“Do what?” said Dash from the middle of wiping the stain with the edge of a rug.

“Help with the team,” said Fluttershy. “I’ll do it. Or I’ll try, at least. Could you then at least try coming along with Tree Hugger? For one day?”

Dash threw her an odd glance. “Haggling isn’t your style, Shy. Why’s this so important to you? Really?” Suddenly, her eyes grew wide. “Wait a minute: are you trying to hook us up for a threesome?”

Fluttershy made a face as if she had been stung. “No, Dash, I’m not. It’s not always about sex. Can’t you believe me when I say I would feel a lot better if you wouldn’t have to stop coming to my home every time Tree Hugger comes for a visit.”

Dash kept on eyeing her like a player judging the worth of a bluff, then withdrew into a deep frown. “Well, I’ve never said ‘no’ to you thrice. If this is so important to you, sure, I’ll do it. One day? I dunno if I can squeeze in that much free time though… Hmm, maybe I can. Cloudchaser’s been stalking an opportunity to show-off her deputy Captain’s badge since she got it. Maybe it’s time to let her have a real good taste at it.”

Fluttershy smiled. “I’m glad for you. For us.”

“Yeah, whatever.” Dash turned a sideways glance at her. “You know I was just kidding about helping the team, right?”

“Yes,” lied Fluttershy. “But I can try helping anyway. I don’t know if I’ll do more harm than good, though…”

Dash put down the bottle, crawled on the other side of the couch and waved her to come closer. When she did, Dash snatched her quickly by the neck and drew her over her. They piled atop each other like pillows.

“You’ll do great,” said Dash, still holding Fluttershy’s by the neck. “You know how I know that?”

“How?” giggled Fluttershy. She could feel how Dash’s other front hoof move to her thigh.

“‘Cause I taught you, dummy,” cooed Dash. And then she kissed her.

It had been a while since she had, and Fluttershy wasn’t completely ready, but her initial awkwardness melted away quickly. Soon, not a glacier would’ve lasted long between their starving lips. Fluttershy let Dash take the lead even as she lay under her, and the azure pegasus clasped onto her cue. Still holding her by the neck, Dash withdrew her tongue and started licking Fluttershy’s lips, cheeks – even dabbing her nose a bit. Her giggle stoked Dash’s hunger.

“Glad to see Tree hasn’t worn you out too much,” she said as she felt the wetness between her thighs. To Dash’s surprise, she saw her blush faintly.

“Yeah,” she muttered. Suddenly time returned, slow and ponderous. Dash made it fade by reaching a bit farther down with her hoof.

Skin passed over Fluttershy’s eyes. A shy moan cracked open her salivated lips, her chest trembling slightly against hers, her throat resting on her shoulder. Dash rubbed a cheek against the side of her neck, trapping the lucious mane in between. Despite the rough angle she worked a fine circle around her ever-wettening folds, tracing a pattern from memory and planting more kisses around her temple.

“You in a hurry?” Dash whispered to her ear while continuing to massage her pussy.

“No,” came the answer muffled against her shoulder. “Tree promised to take care of the animals tonight.”

“About time she made herself useful,” said Dash. “Just kidding,” she added when she noticed the sideways glance Fluttershy gave her.

“That wasn’t funny.”

“Yeah yeah, I’m sorry,” continued Dash with a hint of annoyance. “Relax a bit, will you? I’m kinda trying to have sex with you here.”

Fluttershy nuzzled against her, burying her face between the couch and the back of Dash’s neck. “I am relaxed. I just didn’t think your remark was funny. It’s you who got offended.”

For a flash Dash looked like she wanted to make another not that funny a remark, but her lips remained sealed. At least until they made it, via the arch of her back and rump, to her thighs. There she resumed adoring her fur with kisses, this time moving at an even slower pace. Gently she lifted Fluttershy’s leg, covering it with fondling touches. Fluttershy followed her through the cracks of her eyelids, occasionally blowing her mane out of the way.

Little by little, Dash’s timid kisses turned into slobbering sweeps travelling the course of Fluttershy raised leg. Dash always was big on legs, Fluttershy recalled as the cool, wet feeling spread along her thigh. For my legs, at least. The thought made her a little proud.

Continuing her slobs, Dash aligned their hips closer by intertwining their hind legs on the couch. With a wet, shy smack, the outer lips of their marehoods brushed against each other. A moan escaped them both. Dash pressed a bit forward, just enough to allow their folds to keep on touching a bit deeper. Fluttershy gave a low whine, eager to speed things up. Spread on her back, she had little choice but to let Dash dictate the rhythm, which took a turn towards leisure.

“You like that?” she asked while grinding her hips against her.

“Ah-ha…”

Dash smiled like a tiger. In one slow and smooth motion she pushed more. The pussy lips smashed together, exchanging fluids and pleasure both. Dash raised Fluttershy’s leg more while pushing with her hips, partly climbing over her. Fluttershy’s clit got caught between her labia, where it sank nicely. Fluttershy bit onto her mane, panting.

Wings on Dash’s back unfolded as she stretched over Fluttershy, studying her shifting expressions of passion like an eagle stalking prey and adjusting the minutiae of her movements accordingly. Lust glowed warm on her cheeks. The sweat that gathered on her brow glistened in the disappearing light. The air grew humid with both of their moaning.

“Faster,” gasped Fluttershy. “Faster.”

Dash obeyed after a blink. Usually it was she who had to beg to up the pace. Regardless, she doubled her efforts.

The couch shook. Air vibrated. Time unravelled.

And Fluttershy moaned. It was a short, high-pitched cry which soon subsided into low, intense purring. For a time the noise seemed to pass, but Dash’s humping fuelled it to new heights, where it remained until she reached her own peak. After that, they fell on one another’s laps, their cuddle a picture of serenity. From there, sleep led the way.

***

Roughly at the same time, Thunderlane was staring at the windows of a certain apartment, a stone throw’s away from the town centre. He’d stood there for the better part of an hour now. Countless decisions had been made, and equally many revoked, during that time. Light still burned behind the curtains of the large window; a few times he had spotted a silhouette walking behind it. Is this what I’ve become now – a stalker? Sooner or later, I have to knock on her door. There’s no way I can justify all this to myself otherwise.

In ten minutes, he found himself walking down the road away from town. That may not have been the path leading to justification, but it sure was safer in regards to salvation. Of what exactly, he had no idea.

Less than fully consciously, a tendency to drift towards Fluttershy’s cottage declared its existence. He could see the house already. It had been a while – closer to a year – that he had more than glanced at its inhabitant, or exchanged an everyday greeting. There had been no need for anything else. Right now there was.

The front door was open like always, but he did not step inside. The noises from the backyard advised him to try there instead. Walking around the corner, several opening lines made it past his mind. Each one started with something like, “Good evening, can we talk?”, or “Hey Fluttershy, you have a moment? I got a heartful of sorrow to spill.”

“Hey, Flutters’,” he started as he spotted the familiar straw hat among the bushes. “I was just in the neighborhood, and… oh.”

“Hi,” said Tree Hugger, raising her head. “How’s the vibes?”

“Uhh… the what?”

Tree Hugger blinked. It seemed to Thunderlane she hadn’t expected to be asked to specify the question.

“You know… the vibes.”

“Right,” he said. “Uhm. You must be Tree Hugger. I’ve heard about you – from Rainbow Dash. I’m Thunderlane, friend of a friend of your friend Fluttershy. Guess that makes us friends too?” he added when she remained quiet.

The dreamy smile deepend slightly. “You’re funny. I see you got good vibes going for you.”

“Thanks,” said Thunderlane uncertainly. “Is Fluttershy around? I kind of came to meet her.”

“She’s off seeing Dash,” said Tree.

“Oh.”

“You had something important?”

“No, not really,” he said after a pause. “Just wanted to… talk.”

Tree looked at him up and down. “You can talk to me if you want. ”

The first inclination of Thunderlane was to say yes. Then he realized how strange that was. He knew nothing of this pony, except that she had probably recently enjoyed something you needed a prescription in the apothecary. A strange air hung around her, and Thunderlane could swear he heard faint music playing every time she spoke. There was something in her to invite openness in others. And yet, she was a stranger to him.

“I can make tea,” she said.

“Tea would be nice,” Thunderlane conceded. Who knew, maybe Fluttershy would come home in the meanwhile?

They made it inside and into the living room, where Tree left him while she went to brew “tea that will make your vibes sing,” like she put it. Thunderlane was of a mind to believe her. If the odours trailing into his nostrils had anything to do with the aforementioned tea, he’d most likely be yodeling before the end of the night. The scent was sweet like sap, yet not at all sticky, if such a word applied to smells. Breathing it in made him lightheaded already with the first waft. It was the third that made him not care that much.

“You longtime friends with Fluttershy?” he asked when she got back, carrying a teapot and two porcelain cups on a tray.

“Dunno,” she replied. Purplish liquid, hinted with gold, streamed into the cups, the other of which she offered to him.

Thunderlane accepted it with a wingtip. “You don’t know? It has been that long?”

She blew the steam off her drink. “I dunno because I don’t keep track of such things. There’s no need, nor chance. Presence is all there is.”

Thunderlane watched her take the tiniest sip. He couldn’t decide whether the pony was genuinely eccentric or just messing with him. In any case, the tea smelled divine, so he took a generous gulp. It tasted of whispers.

“So… what did you want to talk about?”

Somewhere within him, another Thunderlane was bothered by the fact that her voice was now out of sync with her lips. The background music had also grown louder at some point, penetrating his ears even when she was not speaking. Or maybe she was, it was becoming hard to tell. In any case, he needed to have more tea.

“Things…” he started, the empty cup falling along with his eyelids. “Things… of love. Of glove, shove. Enough.” He chuckled gently. “Words are so funny today.”

She moved on the pillows like a cat, picking up the cup. Her thigh brushed Thunderlane’s as she reached over him. His skin felt unusually sensitive; it felt he could feel every caress of hair separately. The same went for his thoughts, which zipped past him, beyond him, forking and multiplying on their own. He followed the show with casual interest, an amused, random laugh escaping him as he spotted an especially clever crossroads.

“Love…“ said the music. “Love is alright. It’s alright.”

“Not always. Not ever always. Love is wicked grim. A Sin, tin, king. Especially her love. Huh.”

“Fluttershy’s?”

Thunderlane waved a hoof irritably. He could not see the room that well anymore, with all the colors and forms blocking his view. “No, no, no… not hers. Hers.”

“Ah, she. I get it.”

“She gets it every time,” he continued. “But she never gets me, right? I never get her. Gets. She’s getting away. Forever. Got to get her. Back.”

Somepony slipped next to his flank, pulled his hoof over themselves. Thunderlane didn’t mind. It felt so good to touch, to become touched, to become a touch. It felt so good, to have that again. Even if it was only a dream, like he knew it was.

“Getting gets you nowhere, Lane,” sang the music. “It got nopony nowhere never. Presence doesn’t get anywhere. That’s where you need to get. Get me?”

“I get you,” muttered Thunderlane. As on its own, his wings folded over the pleasant form by his side. Everything was so much closer now than it had ever been. There was no outside to him, to the room, to time. There was only the hoof on his chest, travelling down; the lips inches from his mouth, breathing him, letting him breathe.

“You like that?”

“Like… yeah…”

“Good… Don’t hold back, Lane… You are right where you want to be.”

There was kissing, he vaguely knew. It didn’t matter who was doing it: it felt amazing regardless. His arousal, usually centered around the nether parts, spread all over him, beyond him. The lips caressing him departed, but their taste lingered, shifted along his muscles, his wings, his everything. He was everything.

And he liked it.

III: Some Things Are Said as to Avoid Speaking

They say that, while sleeping, if you’re being stared at for long enough, you wake up. There’s many a cat-owner testifying for the truth of it. Still, Thunderlane had always had his doubts about the proposition. Loud noises, strong smells, touching, sense of falling – those would surely bring anypony awake. But mere gaze? How could it possibly work? Eyes did not in any way disturb what they saw, did they?

But when Thunderlane came around, hazily, he was certain only of one thing – something was looking at him. Something which made his skin crawl. He narrowed open his eyelids carefully, afraid of what he might witness.

Before him stood Fluttershy, looking down upon him. She had an estranged expression on, as if she had been looking at something she could not quite identify.

“Mgh,” said Thunderlane, and coughed weakly. His throat felt like it had been covered with sandpaper.

Fluttershy blinked, then left. Thunderlane reached after her with a hoof, tried to get up. The pillows scattered on top of him weighed like a house of bricks. He swallowed laboriously, and with discipline nurtured by experience of similar sorts of occurrences, went over the facts. There weren’t that many. He remembered lurking around Helia’s house, then leaving for somewhere (he prayed it had not been inside), then meeting somepony… and drinking tea… and kissing… Oh my Celestia…

Fluttershy returned soon with a glass of water. She offered it to Thunderlane, who accepted it mutely.

“Thanks,” he croaked after emptying it one go. He drew a deep breath. “Fluttershy, this is not what it–”

“You slept with Tree Hugger,” she said blankly.

“You… She… She told you?”

Fluttershy’s lips crunched. “I haven’t seen her today. There’s… other evidence…” A fine blush colored her cheeks as she turned them away from the pillows.

Thunderlane followed the evasion of her gaze. Evidence there was indeed – the sort you clean with mop and bucket.

“Oh shi–”

“It’s quite okay,” said Fluttershy, still looking away. “They were ready for washing anyway. No, don’t bother wiping that, it’s dried already… Yes yes, I understand, you didn’t mean it… Would you stop rubbing them already, please?”

Thunderlane ceased his feeble attempts at redeeming the immaculacy of the pillows. He itched to shove a couple down his throat, in the hope of the lucky chance he might choke to death. Ears drooping and tail stuck between his legs, he pulled himself up, aided by the demand for explanation that hung in the air like an elephant by a single hair of its tail.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I don’t know what happened, I swear. I came to meet you yesternight, but met Tree instead. She… she offered me some tea. After that… uh…”

A tinge of concern appeared in Fluttershy’s eyes. “How much did you take?”

Thunderlane shook his head. “I dunno, one cup?”

“A whole cup?”

“Yeah. I think. Why?”

“She didn’t warn you beforehoof?”

“No…?” he said, puzzled. “It was just tea.”

“Not the kind you drink a whole cup of in one go,” sighed Fluttershy. “Well, I hope you don’t feel completely awful now. The first time enjoying Tree’s special tea might be a bit… rough. She forgets to mention that sometimes.”

Thunderlane coughed. “Now that you mention it, it might’ve been a tad stronger than your average Earl May… But it still does not justify me, uh…”

“You don’t need to justify anything,” she said. “Why did you want to see me?”

“For my life, I can’t remember anymore,” he replied after a moment’s silence. “Must be the tea, heh. It probably wasn’t anything important anyway.”

“I see.”

For a time they looked away from each other, waiting for the other to say something.

“Would you like some breakfast?” she said. “I ate already, but if you want I can cook something.”

“Thanks, but I think I should be going,” he said. “Got things to do and all that.”

“Okay,” she said. Thunderlane could not avoid the impression of relief she gave out.

She walked him to the door, where he said, in passing, “Tree said you went to see Dash yesterday.”

“Yes.”

“Spent the night there?”

“Yes...”

“Ahha,” he said, in the tone you use when you are compelled to speak nothing.

As he left, she closed the door behind him.

He walked over the small bridge and to the other side of the stream, the course of which he stopped to follow. Leaves burning in all the colors of autumn trailed in the current, bumping into rocks at the shallow spots before zipping past as if in a mortal hurry. As such they appeared completely alien to him. A presence of mind quite unlike what he had ever felt occupied him, his thoughts, the tips of his wings. A presence of the present.

It shimmered at the edges though.

Thus he started looking if he could find it anew.

***

Around the same time in the weather team’s office, a window was narrowed carefully open from the outside. A pair of eyes peeked through the slip between the frame and the lowered curtains. Satisfied as to the clearness of the way, the pony opened the window fully, grimacing at the drawn-out complaint of the old, dry wood, then slipped inside the room. The midday sun was clouded, so the sparse light that made it past the curtains did little to illuminate the room. That was okay, for the pony knew it inside out by heart.

It was not quite right, breaking into her own office, Helia suspected. She would not be likely to alter her decision though, should fate have it that she repeat it. Little circumventing of rules (not even rules, but habits more like) was bound to be justified for everypony now and then. Dash did it all the time, after all. Considering that, Celestia would surely understand the occasional and extremely idiosyncratic–

The door to the office creaked. Helia ducked behind the desk, the drawers of which she had been searching. She heard how the door opened a little more, how somepony stood by it. There was a sigh. And then the door closed.

Helia counted thirty heartbeats before raising her head. When nopony seemed to be stalking behind the door, she resumed looking for the papers she had come to get. It took longer than she wanted, but soon she had them all in her file, which she tucked under her wing. Those secured, she climbed through the window again, mentally giggling at her possible future as a professional burglar.

It evaporated the moment she saw Dash leaning against a tree, eyebrow raised.

“Care to explain this?” she asked. “Or do I even wanna know?”

Helia chewed her lip, studying her hooves. First she was angry for being ashamed, then ashamed for being angry.

“You saw me climbing in?” she asked.

“Glitter did,” said Dash. “She told me. I went to the office to see if you were there. I then figured you not only want nopony to know you came – you didn’t even want them to know you were here. Makes me wonder…”

“It wasn’t you I was trying to avoid,” Helia said. “Not anypony in particular, just… everypony.”

Dash detached her flank from the bark. “Everypony, you say?”

“Are you really going to make me talk about it?” Helia groaned.

Dash looked her up and down like a player judging their next move. Dash was not a pony to treat conversation as a game all the time, Helia knew, but when she did, she categorically aimed to win.

“Lane hasn’t shown up today,” Dash noted.

Helia squeezed the file under her wing.

“There’s something going on between you two, isn’t there?” Dash continued. “Something sappy. ‘Cept that things got a bit too sticky lately, yeah?”

A sigh unfolded from the bottom of Helia’s lungs. Dash was not going to give up on this one. In any case, how could opening up to her make things worse?

“We met the other day at my place,” Helia said, rolling the file in her wings. “I invited him over after hours. To kill some time, nothing else. Guess he didn’t take it the same way,” she finished sourly.

Dash’s eyebrow inched upwards. “What, he tried to…?”

“Let’s just say I don’t want a coltfriend who can’t keep his hooves to himself.” She looked at the now smirking Dash. “Yeah, I like him. Sort of. He has his special kind of charisma. But after the other day… I don’t know. He made me feel… cheap.”

A burst of chuckle fled Dash, but she shovelled it back inside when she saw Helia’s expression.

“Sorry,” Dash said. “It’s just, uh… I never thought you were on sale in the first place, so to speak…”

“That’s all you got to say?”

“Hey, it’s not like me to share out relationship advice. I only want to be on top of my team’s troubles. Especially when it’s obstructing their work. The winter’s only getting closer.”

“I know. Why do you think I snug in here? I needed these charts to finish up the calculations.”

This seemed to satisfy Dash. Helia took it as a sign for an opening to leave.

“You can’t avoid him forever, you know,” Dash said behind her.

“I don’t intend to,” Helia replied, not turning around. “Only for the indefinite future.”

Dash watched her fly away and disappear behind some rooftops. It was funny, she thought, how you could spent years practicing with somepony, all the while learning really nothing about them. The problem was, it was too late to start now. Still, something needed to be done. She couldn’t abide disorder in the ranks on the threshold of the busiest season of the year.

As always with these things, somepony needed to budge. Aided by a nudge, no doubt.

***

Even in a village as compact as Ponyville it was difficult trying to find somepony of whom you knew nothing about. Not that Thunderlane was completely devoid of clues. For one, Tree Hugger didn’t struck him as a pony who would spent her days shopping for clothes, or leafing through books in the library. A yoga class, on the other hoof, or the herbal shop, sounded promising. It turned out they weren’t, but surely a visit to the market would produce results? And when that failed, there was no way she would not, at some point, return back to Fluttershy’s place.

At no point during his overflights did the question occur to Thunderlane of why exactly was he looking for this mare she had known for barely a night, when he was supposed to be in the team’s headquarters, working. It made as little sense to ask that as the answer would have made. This was something that had to be done, and that was all.

Right now he was flying above the road to Sweet Apple Acres. The orchard would offer an ideal environment for Tree, he knew. Those trunks were made for hugging and there sure was enough of them to last for a lifetime. He could already see her wrapped around a tree, squeezing love into the bark with those delicate, tender hooves of hers; bended slightly forward, accentuating the curve of her lithe back…

Like that, he thought upon seeing the familiar figure, not quite in the orchards, but by the meadow next to them. She appeared to be collecting flowers for her mane. That gave Thunderlane his cleverest idea of the day.

“Good day, you,” he said sweetly after a few minutes behind Tree Hugger. Upon her turning around, he stretched out a wing holding a couple of the rearer sort of flowers between the feathers. “You seemed to be missing these, heh.”

She looked at the flora, then at him. She accepted them, nodded, and turned her back again.

Only the breeze spoke afterwards.

“Uhm… You come here often?” Thunderlane asked eventually, circling to her front. “This your favourite meadow perhaps, heh?”

“They’re all my favourite,” Tree answered without looking up.

“I see. Heh.”

The mild wind had to pick up the thread of conversation again for several minutes. The sense of joy Thunderlane had enjoyed in the air started to flake. Smiling with only half a mouth now, he kept moving in the mare’s wake, competing for the eye contact against every plant she came across.

“Are you looking for something?” she said as her bent-over face almost bumped into his knees.

“Just a chat,” he said all too quickly.

“You’ll have to speak slower,” she continued, bypassing his feet. “Their hearing’s different than ours.”

“I didn’t mean with the flowers,” he said after some retuning of his comprehension functions. “I meant with you. You know, talk about things like the weather, food, music or, heck, I dunno, how about the fact that we had sex last night?”

Initially he had intended to soften that last part with another wooden ‘heh’, but the ghost of humour became honed away at some point during the enunciation.

She looked at him again now, expression unchanged. “Oh, yeah. Last night – it comes to me now. Good times. Good tea.” She gave him a tad deeper smile. And then dived her muzzle back into the weeds.

Thunderlane kept staring at the point her head had occupied but which now lead straight into the horizon beyond the hills. “You… you just now remembered that…? Remembered me?”

“Don’t take it personally, Lane,” said a voice behind him. “That’s how she always is. Detached. Loose. Smoky. Not much to grab hold of, really.”

“Oh, hi D,” said Tree, glancing above at the floating pegasus. “How’s the vibes?”

Dash rolled her eyes. “They’re solid, Hugs, solid. Anyway, I’d hate to interrupt your chat, but mind if I borrow Lane for a sec? No? Great.”

“She didn’t remember me,” muttered Thunderlane while Dash walked him farther from Tree Hugger. “She didn’t remember…”

“You two actually hooked up?” Dash asked with a smirk. “Hah! Finally you’re getting around! First Fluttershy, then Helia, now Tree… I wonder who’s next on Lane?”

Thunderlane said nothing.

“Anyway, I didn’t seek you up for that. Or actually I kinda did. This thing you have going on with Helia… I think it’s messing her up. And I don’t wanna judge or anything, but looks like it’s up to you to blink first here, if you know what I mean.”

A thin, plastic gaze turned from the distance to meet the hint painted on Dash’s features, and which he utterly missed.

“I mean you should apologize to her,” she added. “Good news is she’s not as upset as all that. A good old ‘sorry and please forgive me’ should do the trick. Maybe throw a week’s cleaning shift on the top to smooth it over.”

Amidst the heat of the day, Thunderlane began to tremble. Dash raised an eyebrow. “Hey, what are you–”

“I love you!” cracked Thunderlane’s voice like a whip made of glass. “I frigging love you! I love you I love you I love you I love you so much, more than anything; you and nopony else! You are my love – You are it!”

He grabbed her by the shoulder. “Why won’t you ever listen to me? That night on the bench – I tried to tell you; have tried for years, but you never listen; you never care to listen. You’re gonna listen now: I fucking love y–”

There was not so much movement than two moments collapsed on each other: one in which Dash’s hoof lay completely at rest, then another when it finished its eclipse, having just delivered a sharp slap at Thunderlane’s right cheek. In between the moments, nothing existed. On either side of them, the remnants of history and the future lingered, flapping in the easy wind like shreds of a letter with its meaning discarded.

He lay on his knees now, staining the leaves and petals with his tears, breath shattered by hyperventilation. She didn’t see nor hear him, for she had no eyes on her back and the swoosh of wind blocked all other sounds. He sat there with an aching cheek and a flaming heart, the ash accumulating in his mouth.

Such moments, such violence; such loath condensed in the slice of time you replay over and over and over, to highlight this by covering it, a piece of furniture curtained with dust

and it gets shorter every time

my god

every time.

***

Later that evening, when Fluttershy strolled down the peaceful mane street, she found herself with the premonition that the virgin frost would come early this year. She had no good reason to believe she knew that. After all, the weather team hadn’t scheduled subzero temperatures for another few weeks yet, and they tended to follow Celestia’s sun paths quite accurately. But plans were in the end but a more official name for wishes, which were ambiguous by nature. Nopony ever knew what they exactly wished for. If they did, there’d bound to be a lot less of wishing going around.

Approaching her destination, Fluttershy loosened the scarf around her throat slightly. It had been a while since she had last visited Blueberry Inn. Why did it always feel like the closure of a book to walk through that door? What was it in that place that made end seem so imminent? Had the walls absorbed so much sorrow over the years they now emanated some of it back, or was at stake a magnet for lugubrious folk? And were such metaphysics of emotion the sole luxury of those who came to the Inn to seek not the bottom but those who did?

Thunderlane sat by the counter alone, Fluttershy saw as she stepped in. At once she knew the situation was even worse than what she had gathered from Dash’s account – which alone had been grave enough. Even the light from oil lamps, not to mention the other customers, appeared to shun him. Behind the counter, Cheery gave Fluttershy a look of solemn concern and, alarmingly, deep helplessness.

“What happened to him?” the bartender whispered as Fluttershy walked closer. “I’ve never seen anything similar. Hasn’t spoken a word since he came; can’t get one out no matter what I do. Even offered him a glass with two drops of Big Blue One mixed in.” Cheery’s legendarily calm face twisted before the force of an inner storm crumbling everything she had thought eternal. “No effect. He gulped it like a sip of lemon juice. Two whole drops!”

Fluttershy swallowed. “There was an… incident earlier today. I should talk to him. Talking always helps.”

“That’s what I always say,” said Cheery. “Or used to say, anyway. I’ll keep an eye on you two. Just in case.”

In case of what, Fluttershy did not dare to ask. She drew a deep breath before pulling a chair next to the stallion. All the eyes and ears in the room revolved at their direction, she felt. For the whole trip here she had wondered what to say, what not to say, and why exactly she had promised Dash to go find Thunderlane to begin with. She had been so very upset, in the lack of a better word. Fluttershy had begged her to come along, but Dash had been so against it she–

“I used to hate you.”

Fluttershy blinked. “Excuse me?”

“Not all the time but in waves,” continued Thunderlane in a colorless tone. “Of all the ponies, I used to hate you. You had everything I wanted; the only everything I wanted. You had Dash, and she had you. You are so happy together. Sometimes still it makes me so sick. So envious. I feel wronged by your love. It should be mine, I used to think. I wanted that. Nothing but. Nothing but.”

Fluttershy listened him like a distant avalanche one isn’t quite certain they stand a safe distance from.

“Then the thing happened four seasons back,” he continued. “We got together, all three, somehow. I’ll never forget that summer. Nor the fall after. Nor today. Finally, it all came down to what happened today. It’s been long time coming; so long it felt we had already been over it. Now it's done. It’s done!”

Thunderlane threw himself upright, wings and all, ready to break something. It didn’t matter if it was wood or flesh, steel or bones, himself or others. Destruction reigned before him; a drive to annihilation until nothing remained but a will to do it all over again.

Or so he desired. Fluttershy could see it so clearly in the fragile, laborious crying he succumbed to, face buried in his hooves and soul covered in pleas heard only by her.

“Not alone; I don’t want to be alone; I don’t want to be alone. I don’t want… No… No…”

“You are not alone,” Fluttershy wanted to say. It didn’t feel right by him to do that though: not in the face of his collapse that testified to a belief of the exact contrary. Perhaps touching him would’ve been more appropriate, but that didn’t feel doing right by herself. The echo of I used to hate you still lingered in the air.

It turned out she didn’t need to do anything before a tinge of recomposure returned to Thunderlane. “To think… To think I’m this devastated for being friendzoned,” he said with wounded mirth while wiping his eyes. “What a joke, right?”

“Friendzoned?” Fluttershy repeated carefully.

“Read about it in this dating magazine of my mother’s. It means this… thing where people want different things from each other. To be just friends, or to be something… more. Seemed such a pathetic thing to complain about at the time,” he added darkly.

“More than friendship…? I don’t think I understand… What is it you’d rather have than friendship?”

For the first time Thunderlane looked at Fluttershy in the eyes. Neither blinked at the contact for several seconds.

“I don’t even know there’s a name for it,” he finally said, looking away. “She doesn’t care for me like I do for her, and not like I’d want her to care. Such a selfish thought, right? Is there anything more selfish, more arrogant, than wanting somepony to love you like you love them? I know there isn’t. My knowledge does not combat my desire. I’ve tried. Oh, I’ve tried… But ignoring it only lead me to what happened today…”

“What exactly do you think happened today?”

“I lost it,” Thunderlane replied in fresh tears. “I lost it. I went mad at her. I felt anger towards her. She shouldn’t have slapped me – she should’ve beaten me to pulp. She should’ve fired me from the team.”

“Are you sure it’s Dash you were so angry with?” Fluttershy continued after a pause. “Because to me it seems you’re more angry with yourself. With your own feelings; for not being able to change them.”

“Well, of course I shouldn’t wish to–”

He paused when her wing landed on her shoulder softer than a butterfly. “But you do. Denying it doesn’t change that you do. It’s not your fault for feeling that way.”

A tune of indeterminate origin drifted around the Inn. It approximated music, distinguishing itself from mere silence with a degree of intensity not unlike an interval. It was the indefinite suspense in the soft hollow between Fluttershy’s last words and the endurance of her wing’s touch.

“What should I do?”

“Detach,” Fluttershy said, letting go of him. “Take some time off the team. A holiday in Cloudsdale, perhaps?”

“That’s what Dash wants?”

“She wasn’t against it,” Fluttershy conceded, following some brief internal debate.

Thunderlane appeared to sag slightly, from relief or despair, Fluttershy could not tell. “Maybe it’s for the best. Yeah. Best for everypony. Maybe it’ll clear things out once and for all. Yeah.”

Fluttershy smiled faintly. Not long after she left, and to her joy managed to pull him along. The Inn had its purpose sure and secure, but too much of it could leave its mark. They separated near the central square, heading for their homes through the cool mists with quiet farewells and promises to see each other soon again.

“How did he take it?” asked Rainbow Dash immediately as Fluttershy opened her house’s front door. She closed it and settled onto the pillow sea of the living room before closing her eyes.

“You won’t be seeing each other for a while,” she said. “Like you wanted.”

Dash, standing in front of the window looking into the town, turned around.

“What’d you say to him, exactly?”

“Could you come here, please. It’s getting so late, and I feel so tired…”

For the first time Dash hesitated before this particular invitation. She glanced one more time at the city, it’s soft glow against the early fall darkness. Nopony seemed to be heading up the hill.

“You didn’t tell him what I told you to tell him, did you?” Dash said as she fell next to Fluttershy.

The buttercup wing uncurler to brush the cyan flank, not playfully, not longingly, but simply like a branch reaching for the sun.

“Did you really want me to? Really?”

Without noticing it herself, Dash’s feathers intertwined with Fluttershy, joining sky with a field of wheat. “I… I think I did. What he did… It wasn’t cool. Not at all. I don’t want to have that ever again. Not in my team.”

“You only know what you really want once you’ve had it. I suppose the same is true of what you don’t want.”

Dash stared at the dimming ceiling. There was something else on her mind still.

“Haven’t seen Tree today.”

“I think she left town,” Fluttershy said. “Seems like you just missed her. Again.”

“Fluttershy…”

“Yes, Dash?”

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

Epilogue

Thunderlane walked down the mane street from the central square with no particular regard for the chill creeping up the alleys. The first stars were already up, shards of icy light farther up than he could conceive. He wished he could fly to them.

Step by aerial step, or by whatever insignificant length one can deduct from infinity, his wish became closer to fulfilment. Soon the rooftops were left below him, anchored in the landscape stretching beyond the curve of the globe. Had there been clouds that night, he would have crossed them next. Still he kept going. Now the air started to sting in his lungs. Higher he flew, seized by serenity both inner and external. There was no wind, no bird, no obstruction of any kind up here. Only the stars and the moon greeted him, but from a distance equally vast as before. No matter how high he’d climb, their immeasurable beauty would always remain outside his reach. What point there was in continuing chasing it then?

As if relinquishing a dream, Thunderlane let go. For a turn of breath the momentum propelled him onwards, hung him in perfect balance, and finally handed him over to gravity.

Through his accelerating fall he kept looking at the stars. Funnily enough he didn’t feel like departing them.

In fact it felt he’d soon be finally embracing them.

Then he happened to look down.

Pure instinct took control. The shock portrayed by the nearing ground made his wings flex and turn his dead drop into a glide. It almost succeeded. He pulled desperately up, barely dodging a lamp-post before landing on the same road he had arisen from. The speed was too much for his legs to handle: his brief gallop collapsed into a violent tumble that ended against a front door with a bang.

By the time all the swear words he knew had rumbled off of his cracked lips, the door opened. Light spilled outside, casting Thunderlane in the limelight with all his bruises and dusty scratches.

“What in Celestia’s name?” he heard a voice say past the ringing of pain in his ears. The physical aspect of his suffering dissipated as he recognized the speaker.

“Well?” Helia demanded. “Are you going to explain yourself? Did you try to break in or just scare the life out of me with that racket?”

Gathering the pieces of his dignity, Thunderlane got up. Ignoring the many red signals his body kept transmitting into his brain went without saying for now. He swallowed, mindful to at least try and face the mare’s gaze, and said:

“I’m so sorry. Tripped a bit there. Didn’t mean any offense. Goodbye.”

He added that last bit half-turned, eager to bury himself in self-loath. He couldn’t even make it off the doormat when she said, with a touch less sharpness:

“Expecting me to believe that? Whatever happened to you, Thunderlane? You look like a herd of cattle ran over you. Look, you’re even limping!”

“It’s nothing, nothing. Gonna fix it home, no problem…”

Helplessly Helia watched the stallion stagger into the night. “I have some cold bandages inside,” she heard herself say.

Thunderlane stopped. Glancing at the doorway again, he noticed Helia was wearing kneesocks. They were a comforting shade of blue. Each had little silvery stars in the knitwork. Unlike the ones above, these looked neither distant nor cold, yet not any less beautiful for that.

“Are you… sure?” he asked.

“You’re a member of the team, hurt, it’s the middle of the night and I got nothing better to do than watch the fire go out,” said Helia firmly. “Yes, I’m sure. Now come on in already before you catch a cold on top of everything else.”

Wordlessly Thunderlane limped inside the house. To say it felt strange would’ve been nowhere near the truth. The cup of hot chocolate she offered him while tending to his bruises did nothing to melt the awkward sense of misplacedness swelling inside him. But it didn’t feel right to complain about any of it, either. So he let her fuss over him in peace, answered her questions as best as he dared to, and little by little started feeling like himself again.

“Thank you,” he said for the hundredth time. “All this, it’s so kind of you. All too kind.”

Helia rolled her eyes. “Yes, I think we’ve settled that already. A dozen times at least in fact, but who’s counting anyway. You just be glad you didn’t hurt your wings – Dash would bust a vein if one of her best fliers incapacitated themselves during the busiest season.”

Thunderlane took a long, long sip from his cup, then said:

“I like your socks. Go well with your fur.”

“Thanks,” replied Helia, her eyebrow raised. She filled the ensuing silence by packing all the bandages and medicine in their right places rather leisurely. When no other distraction presented itself she sat on the opposite side of the couch Thunderlane occupied, gaze keenly set on the last dying embers twinkling in the ashes.

“Well well, I think it’s getting late,” she said when she couldn’t bear the quiet anymore. “Duty calls tomorrow too, heh.”

“Actually I think I’ll be going away for a while,” Thunderlane grunted while getting up. Seeing her questioning look he added: “Visit Cloudsdale maybe. Or Canterlot. You know, a little holiday.”

“A holiday? During late fall? Are you out of your mind?”

“Am I not always?” he quipped, but without much spirit. On the door he said: “Thank you again. And sorry for the all the trouble I’ve caused. If there’s ever anything you need help with… Well, perhaps I won’t be able to make things that much worse, heh. Good night.”

He stepped out. The door started closing. Helia bit her lip. The moment slipped like an eel on skates.

“You could stay for a little while longer. Could you?”

The door remained narrowly open with no guarantee in sight there was anypony behind it anymore. Nonetheless she continued:

“I mean, if you really intend skipping town like that, you could at least spend the last night in good company, hmm? I still got a few ciders left. Who’ll help me finish them if not you?”

Frosty air seeped in, killing the last of the cinders. Helia listened, barely breathing. But there was nothing to listen to.

There was a sigh she did not know she had in her, a click of the lock that had never rang so loud, a living room at its darkest; a tenuous rap on the wood that made her jolt around and swing it open so hastily Thunderlane almost fell forward.

“Sorry,” they said simultaneously. Both chuckled shortly; checked each other’s eyes for signs only they could read and saw them aplenty.

“I would like that,” said Thunderlane. “Very much.”

And so, for that night and many more after, he did.