Missing Equipment

Tempest stared cross-eyed at the carrot taped to the base of her horn. She couldn’t think of anything more ridiculous to put atop it. “Pinkie Pie,” she said, “thanks… but no thanks. Can I go now?”

Pinkie, holding a dripping paintbrush in her mouth, tilted her head in confusion. If Tempest were in the mood for it, it probably would have looked adorable. Her mouth opened around the brush—

“And before you ask, no. It’s not the wrong shape.”

Pinkie’s mouth closed for a few seconds. Then it opened again.

“Nor is it too long or too short, too wide or too narrow, too soft or too hard, or any other singular trait which could be solved by replacing it with a different carrot. It’s just a bad idea. Period.”

She groaned and lit up the fragments of her horn. The carrot vibrated, then blasted off her horn, pulling shreds of tape in its wake as it rocketed across the room. It hit the wall of Sugarcube Corner and stuck there, quivering above a wastebasket full of other failed carrots.

Pinkie’s mouth fell open, letting the brush splash into the canister of plum paint below. “How’d you know what I was gonna say?” she whispered, eyes wide with shock. “Oh my gosh, does having a broken horn give you super special psychic powers?”

“No, it probably does not do that.”

“Does it unlock the super crazy world-ending magic hidden in the dark corners of every unicorn’s mind?”

”Maybe a little?” Tempest sighed through her nose: this was probably better than Pinkie running away in tears at the sight of her. Probably. “Mostly it just aches, sometimes. And looks bad—”

“Is that why your fireworks look so cool?”

Tempest stopped. “Huh?”

“You know, that crazy firework thing you can do. It looks great! Actually, can I book you for a ‘World-Hasn’t-Ended’ party?”

She couldn’t help but chuckle at that. “Sounds fun, but not if it’s within the next month. And now I really have to go,” she said, crossing to the table where she’d been eating breakfast before Pinkie had pulled her over for her 24-carrot idea.

“Aww, really?” Pinkie pouted, which seemed to be the only negative emotion she could express. Not sadness, just poutiness. “Where ya headed, Fizzlepop?”

“Don’t call me Fizzlepop.”

“Where ya headed, Tempest?”

“Your princesses have me doing some sort of military training tour. It’s apparently the reason I’m not in moon jail for a millennium, or whatever else they’d do to me, and I need to head for Canterlot now.” Tempest slung her bag of essentials over one shoulder. It had everything she owned, save for her armor; that she always wore, every waking moment. It was unchanged from when she’d invaded Equestria, save for the removal of the Storm King’s emblem. Old habits died hard, but with this armor, so would she.

Pinkie tapped her chin. “Hm. That’s really funny.”

Tempest raised an eyebrow, and Pinkie elaborated: “Rainbow Dash said she had to do some important Wonderbolt stuff, and she’d be away for a while, and she was gonna be at the castle tonight. Probably just one o’ them coinkidinks!”

It was not one o’ them coinkidinks.

“Her?” Tempest and Rainbow Dash shouted in unison, each one jabbing a hoof at the other from opposite walls of Celestia’s throne room.

Celestia nodded gravely from her throne. “Fizzlepop, you are—”

“Tempest.”

Celestia halted mid-speech, frowned, and began again. “Tempest, you are in many ways uniquely qualified to train our armies to shore up our defenses. However, in the crucial area of being nationally trusted or liked, you are at an unfortunate disadvantage. Which is where you come in.”

She now turned to face Rainbow Dash. “As a multi-time national heroine and Wonderbolt, you have the trust Tempest lacks. Together, you two are Equestria’s best chance to learn to defend ourselves against whatever new threat may arise.”

“Yeah, okay, I get some of that.” Rainbow Dash rolled her eyes. “Everyone hates her, but they love me, so she needs me. That part makes sense. But why do I need her to tell me how to be awesome?”

Tempest chuckled. “You know I could beat you in a fight with my eyes closed, don’t you?”

“Ha!” Rainbow Dash took a step forward, teeth bared. “I could kick your flank with both wings tied up!”

Tempest stepped forward as well, looking down her nose at the upstart Wonderbolt. “I’d like to see you try.”

“How would you? You just said your eyes would be closed.”

“Enough.”

Celestia’s voice wasn’t even that loud, yet it shook Tempest in her armor. She and Rainbow Dash both stared at the princess, although Tempest felt a whole lot less cowed than Rainbow Dash looked. It was hard to be intimidated by Celestia after having personally rendered her into stone.

Celestia’s frown was incrementally lower, but her composure was otherwise unharmed. “I didn’t call the two of you here so you could learn to get along. I called you here to receive an order, and to carry it out faithfully.” She strode off her throne, lifting two sheets of paper, which floated toward Rainbow Dash and Tempest. “This is your itinerary. Your first assignment is here in Canterlot, in two days’ time: use the intervening days to figure out how best to teach our Royal Guard.”

Rainbow Dash took her paper in one hoof, looked at it for a few seconds with wide eyes, then shrugged and slipped into her saddlebags. Tempest concentrated and grabbed the paper in her magic; it hung in the air for no more than a second before vibrating and catching fire, burning to ash in a moment.

Celestia smiled ruefully, and her horn lit up again, pulling a spare itinerary from near her throne to give to Tempest. Tempest sighed, then took the paper in hoof (like she should have done in the first place). Of course she had spares.

Tempest examined the itinerary with a deepening grimace. “Is something the matter?” Celestia asked.

“You’ve got us traveling nearly every day. Every two days, at best.” Tempest glowered up at Celestia. “This is a slave schedule.”

“You’re the one who showed us that an attack can come at any time. We need to train our forces as quickly as possible. I know it’s a lot to ask—which is part of why I’m not asking—but I wouldn’t have assigned you to this if I didn’t think you were capable, Tempest.”

Tempest shrugged. “Yes, Celestia.” To her side, Rainbow Dash grimaced, and turned to leave.

“Another thing,” Celestia said, and Rainbow stopped and looked back around. Celestia’s expression was much warmer now than it had been a minute before. “I said I didn’t call you here to learn to get along, and that was true: the mission takes priority. Even so, however, I hope you’ll find friendship on this journey together.”

Rainbow rolled her eyes. “Oh, duh.”

Celestia looked at her, one eyebrow raised. Rainbow Dash continued, “Look, I know how this works, okay? We’ve got a chaos god playing O&O weekly with Spike and Big Mac at Twilight’s castle, down the hall from the dictator’s room!” She turned on her hoof and stomped toward the door of the throne room. “I get it! We’re gonna be great friends, and there’s nothing I can do about it!”

She stopped, presumably for dramatic effect, just at the doorway. “Just don’t expect me to rush the whole friend-making thing.” Then she took to the air and flew out.

Celestia shook her head. “I can’t say I didn’t expect that.”

Now that it was just the two of them alone, Tempest bit her lip. Turning Celestia into a statue was easy, but asking this of her might be harder.

“Tempest, you’re free to go. A Royal Guard will show you to your room while you’re at the castle.” Celestia tilted her head. “But I get the feeling you have a question to ask me?”

Tempest looked down at the ground, and closed her eyes. “Yes. You probably know what it’s about, too.”

“Yes.”

Tempest squeezed her eyes shut a little harder, feeling the old familiar scar bunch up on one eyelid. Then she whipped her head up and opened her eyes, staring pleadingly up at Celestia. “The Storm King said he would do it once he had all your magic, and he was lying, but maybe not about everything, right? So can you do it? Can you restore my horn?”

Now, Celestia’s expression was somber: eyes downcast, mouth frowning. “I do not know. I will ask Twilight and her student—two of the most ingenious spellcasters in a millennium. If it can be done, they are the ponies to figure out how… but I cannot promise success.”

Tempest hung her head, sucking in breaths through her teeth. It hurt to hear that.

Hurt ponies sometimes regressed to reacting on instinct.

Celestia paused for a moment, and then spoke gently, reaching out a hoof in Tempest’s peripheral vision. “Tempest, you are more than just your disability—” Her hoof touched Tempest’s shoulder.

Tempest grabbed Celestia’s foreleg and started swinging, and then stopped herself mid-movement, just before she could send Celestia slamming to the ground. She hurriedly let go after a moment, backing away as quickly as she could. “Sorry! Sorry, you kind of snuck up on me there!”

“How did I sneak up on you?” Celestia raised an eyebrow, with what might have been amusement under different circumstances. She rubbed her pulled hoof with evident discomfort. “We were having a conversation.”

“I’m sorry, really sorry, I.... I’ll just go.” Without a further word, Tempest trotted away.

The next day’s walk to the training grounds, for just the two of them to prepare, was done mostly in silence. It was a loud silence, though. The kind that just demanded to be heard. Rainbow Dash was being as blaringly silent as she possibly could.

Finally, Tempest could no longer take it. “What?”

The silence quieted down as Rainbow Dash glared at her. “You hurt a lot of ponies I care about.”

“I know. Sorry.”

“Like, all of them. Twilight and the girls, Scootaloo, the Princesses… my tortoise wasn’t fed on time because I was out saving the world, I had to take him to the vet to make sure he wasn’t hurt… so yeah, pretty much all of them.”

“Your point?”

“The point is,” Rainbow Dash said, as they rounded a corner and entered the wide courtyard, “don’t expect us to be besties anytime soon.”

“Good. You’re grating, I don’t like you, and I think you’ll be superfluous to this mission.”

Rainbow raised her eyebrows. “Wow, that’s blunt.”

“I’m known for being blunt.”

Rainbow Dash slammed into the ground, Tempest’s hoof on her throat, for the fifth time. “Come on!” she shouted almost immediately, which meant she’d at least learned to avoid getting the wind knocked out of her. “I was flying, how’d you even do that!”

“Without needing a horn. That’s how.” Tempest allowed herself a smirk; she was coming to enjoy seeing Rainbow sprawled beneath her. “Yet you keep needing your wings to last more than five seconds.”

“No fair.”

Rainbow tried to roll over onto her front. A jab of Tempest’s hoof stopped her. “Never, ever say that,” Tempest hissed. “Fights aren’t fair. First rule.”

“I know, I know, I know,” Rainbow grumbled, pushing Tempest’s hoof away and getting onto her hooves. “So are you gonna show me how to counter that thing you do, or do you just wanna beat me up some more? Because if that’s it then I’m leaving.”

Tempest gritted her teeth. “I’m not doing this for fun.”

“Really?” Rainbow frowned. “If I was as good at anything as you are at fighting—and I am, and the thing is flying, ‘cuz hoo boy, I am great at flying. Like, the best ever. Er, where the heck was I?”

Rainbow searched for her train of thought as Tempest rubbed the bridge of her nose with a hoof. “Oh, yeah,” Rainbow said. “The point is, if you’re awesome at it, you might as well love it.”

Tempest turned around and walked away, and counted to ten in her head. She hoped she wouldn’t need to keep counting.

“What?” Rainbow Dash said behind her.

Superfluous and annoying. “Nevermind,” Tempest said, turning around. “Now, here’s how you counter that strike….”

A day later, Rainbow Dash still couldn’t beat Tempest in a fight, or last longer than twelve seconds.

Which put her head and shoulders above the Royal Guards, none of whom could last four.

“Really?” Tempest called out, at the Royal Guard lieutenant who was doubled over wheezing in front of her. “I’m a cripple and I’m beating you! How can your pride take this, to be thrashed by somepony with a broken horn?”

She heard scratching behind her, and glanced back to see Rainbow Dash standing in the dirt, looking away from her and whistling innocently. As is universally known, this was the least innocent thing that can be done, but Tempest didn’t have time to think about it.

“Listen up, rookies,” she said, staring long and hard at the other trembling, bruised guardsponies. “If you couldn’t beat me now, how do you expect to beat the next invader? Should I chop off my legs too? Just keep dropping appendages until you finally get a win?”

More scratching from behind her, and she whipped her head around in time to see Rainbow Dash dragging a hoof through the dirt. Rainbow Dash looked up, saw her looking, and flinched—but then motioned with her head to come over. With gritted teeth, Tempest complied.

“What is that?” she said as she approached. Rainbow Dash hurriedly kicked more dirt on top of whatever she’d scored out of the ground, but before it was wiped out, Tempest made out what looked like tally marks. She frowned, but this was a question for another time.

“Look,” Rainbow whispered, “are you sure you’re not enjoying this? Because trust me, beating the snot out of them isn’t gonna help them learn any faster. They get enough of that every time an invasion rolls through, and they still kinda suck. And we’ve had, like, a bunch of invasions.”

Tempest frowned. “My way works.”

“Sure, on the Storm Troopers, maybe! This is Equestria, remember? We do it different here.” Rainbow rolled her eyes. “Look, you’ve done a great job playing bad cop, okay? Now it’s my turn.”

Rainbow trotted past Tempest. “All right, everypony, listen up! We’re gonna start with some basic combat drills first, before we get into the crazy one-on-ones again. Line up in a big row in front of that wall!”

As the ponies complied, Dash zipped into the air. She came back down a second later with a foreleg-full of cloud, which she deposited at ground level. She repeated this several more times, until there were about a score of low-lying cloud bundles. “These,” Rainbow yelled, tapping one with a hoof, “are gonna be the invaders! Now, did you see the part where there’s more of them than there are of you?”

“Y-yes, ma’am!” The dozen-or-so guards shouted out an uneasy chorus.

“Which means you’ve gotta work together! Take down each foe quickly, and move on! Don’t let any of them reach the wall behind you! Ready, set, and, go!”

Rainbow Dash jumped up, behind all the clouds, and flapped her wings until they became a blur, sending forth a blustering wind. The clouds—the invaders—moved forward at the speed of an easy jog.

With throaty cries, the guards charged. They were athletic enough, but uncoordinated; and contrary to Rainbow's instruction, most of them spent far too long on single clouds, several almost reaching the wall behind. However, some of the ponies got the idea to pair up, enabling them to pulverize each cloud more than twice as quickly as a single pony could, and with this innovation the guards were able to triumph. They hooted and hollered at their victory.

Tempest resisted the urge to berate them on celebrating such a minor achievement—not even two-on-one odds against them… but it was better than nothing. She eyed Rainbow Dash, eyebrow raised. Maybe not completely superfluous.

Rainbow turned to direct another drill, and Tempest raised an eyebrow. Not to mention, not too hard on the eyes. She glanced up at the hair and frowned. Most of her, anyway.

“Where are we going?” Tempest asked.

“Canterlot Carousel. I wanna chat with Rarity. So, are you a blank flank or something?”

Tempest glanced at Rainbow Dash, eyes narrowed, as they stopped before a Canterlot thoroughfare to let some carriages pass. “What?”

“Er, sorry, I don’t know the PC term for it. Er….” Rainbow’s eyes screwed up in concentration. “Would you describe yourself as ‘cutie mark disadvantaged’?”

“PC?”

“You know, like how Princess Celestia would say it. PC.”

Tempest sighed. “Why do you care?”

“Full disclosure: Spike and I have a bet.” Dash winked. “I say you’re, uh… mark challenged, he says you’ve got a cutie mark, and there’s twenty bits in it for me if I’m right. Of course, it doesn’t count unless one of us, well, sees the evidence.”

Tempest grunted. The carts didn’t seem to be stopping so she bent her legs and leaped, going right over to the other side of the street. She set off at a trot, but Rainbow Dash flew behind her and kept pace. Tempest growled and looked behind herself. “I’m not showing you my flank so you can win a bet.”

“Come on, I’ve never seen you out of that armor! Do you even wash it?” Rainbow groaned. “Whatever’s hidden under there, it’s gotta be really bad, right? Because you don’t have any problem showing off your horn, and you’re super hung up about that.”

“I am not hung up about my horn!” Tempest yelled, and sparks flew from the bone in question. Suddenly the crowd around them dispersed, giving the two a wide berth.

Rainbow rolled her eyes, flying upside-down ahead of Tempest and looking backward at her. “Puh-leez. You bring it up more than everypony else combined. I was keeping count, you know.”

“That’s what the tallies were?”

“Final count was twenty six.”

Tempest fought off the urge to do something that would land her in jail, like unleashing a magic burst and obliterating the nearby area. Or just running around, suplexing ponies at random. Both seemed maddeningly tempting. “Where are we even going, anyway?”

“Like I said, Canterlot Carousel. I thought I could pop in and bug Rarity, and maybe get you something.”

“Get me something?”

They turned a corner and came upon a cylindrical building, like some giant gaudy cake. How Canterlot.

A bell dinged as they entered the store. “Welcome to Canterlot Carousel, where every dress is chic, unique, and magnifique!” said not-Rarity. In fact, Rarity was nowhere to be seen as Tempest looked around the boutique: all she saw were shoppers, and one tall blue unicorn with an orange mane behind the desk.

“Aww, Sassy Saddles!” Rainbow’s eyes were wide. “Oh, no, is Rarity not here! Aww, man, what a bummer! And we came all this way!”

“It was a five minute walk,” Tempest muttered.

“Oh, what a horrible shame,” Rainbow cried out, “to come all this way for nothing!”

“But Rainbow,” Sassy said, “Rarity’s never here on Wednesdays. She’s in Ponyville. Don’t you know—”

“Sassy-shut-up-before-you-ruin-this-for-me,” Rainbow hissed, and then said, “Oh, well, while we’re here, we might as well get something for Tempest! How about—”

She zipped away in a rainbow blur that blew back Tempest’s mane. The moment Tempest had readjusted it, Rainbow came back with another gust. “ A hat!” Rainbow yelled, holding what could only be described as… a hat.

Well, okay. If pressed, Tempest could probably say that it had a wide crown and a wider brim, and was tan in color. A bit cowpony-ish, if anything. “Try it!” Rainbow said, slamming it onto Tempest’s head, then whisking a mirror in front of her. Looking at her reflection, Tempest couldn’t help but notice how it covered her broken horn.

She gave Rainbow Dash a level stare. “Seriously?”

“Yeah, it looks great on you! And look, what a coincidence! It totally covers… your… horn.” Rainbow petered off as Tempest’s stare wore her down. “Okay, fine,” Rainbow finally said, rubbing her neck, “it’s mostly because of the horn. I thought you’d like it.”

“Like it?” Tempest clenched her jaw. “I don’t look good in hats. So don’t try to get me any gag gift.”

Rainbow’s jaw hung open. “Gag? You think this is—after I actually—” Then, she shook herself and narrowed her eyes. “That’s not a gag gift.”

She yanked the hat off Tempest’s head, sped away for a second, and then returned with something infinitely worse: a giant ten-gallon construction that appeared to be made entirely of confetti and feathers. When Rainbow slammed it onto her head, Tempest’s neck actually hurt.

“This,” Rainbow declared, “is a gag gift.” She turned to Sassy and threw a sack of bits onto the counter. “Bought it, it’s done, keep the change. And happy early Hearth’s Warming,” she said to Tempest.

Tempest stared back as much as she could, with all this fluff in and around her eyes. It was on. What exactly was on, she wasn’t sure, but something definitely was.

“What a day!” Rainbow yawned as the two of them ambled into their suite of rooms in Cloudsdale, after a full ten hours spent training the Cloudsdale Wonderbolt division in not being terrible. “Man, it is weird being the one supervising Spitfire. I feel like the world’s upside-down or something!”

“You’re flying upside down.”

Rainbow blinked. “Oh, I am! Huh.” She spun around in the air, forcing Tempest to duck, and landed on the non-cloudy floor—an important accommodation, as Tempest’s cloud-walking spell was as dubious as any other piece of magic she could do, and she didn’t need it giving out in her hotel room. “Welp, I’m wiped out. Gonna hit the hay for a while, and then we can grab dinner or something?”

Tempest grunted noncommittally, and walked to her own room as Rainbow walked to hers. Wait for it.

“Yo, uh, Tempest?” The voice was from Rainbow’s room, right on cue. “There’s a box on my bed. It says, ‘From Tempest’. What’s the deal?”

“It’s a gift. From Tempest. Which is to say, from me.” Tempest rolled her eyes as she sank into her mattress: how could she have to explain this? Was there some sort of inverse correlation between smarts and butt tautness? “Maybe you should open it.”

Tempest heard the sound of paper ripping, and then one of Rainbow’s trademark zooming sounds approaching at high speed. And then, of course, a loud voice right in her ear. “Gray mane dye! This is awesome! This is just what I need for my Daring Do cosplay! And here I thought it was gonna be a gag gift! Thanks!”

Tempest groaned: this was not the plan. “Hey,” Rainbow said, backing off a bit, “What’s up?”

“I was just thinking,” Tempest replied, rolling over onto her back, “that as long as we’re concerned about the eyesores on each others’ heads, you might like it if your hair wasn’t the loudest thing in the room.”

Rainbow took a step back, the excitement draining out of her face. “Oh. Okay. I guess you got me after all.” She put on a grin, obviously forced. “Darn it! I guess I’ll have to get even with you!”

Tempest squinted. “We are even. I just got even with you.”

“Oh, we’re not even.” Rainbow chuckled joylessly. “We’re definitely not even.”

Without warning, Tempest sank halfway into the clouds of Stratusburg.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa!” Rainbow yelled. Before Tempest could do anything about it, Rainbow had her armor in her teeth, straining and heaving with her wings as she pulled her back up to cloud level. “Are you okay?”

Tempest grunted. She tested the clouds again, and for now they seemed to be holding, although sparks flew from her hooves with each contact. “I’m fine,” she muttered.

“See, this is why I said you should have the guards cast the spell on you.” Rainbow’s face wasn’t so much worried as exasperated. “I don’t need us to be training, and then to have to go and rescue you because your magic’s shorted out!”

“Why wouldn’t you want that? We both know you need every chance you can get against me.”

“You keep telling yourself that.”

“I don’t need to tell myself anything. The facts tell it.”

“I’m getting better every day!”

“You’re up to half a minute.”

“Still!”

“Maybe you should spend more time practicing if you want to really improve.”

“You think I need more drilling in my life? Yeah, no.” Rainbow shivered herself, and then seemed to remember something. “Oh! Speaking of practice.” With one wing she opened up her saddlebag and pulled out a box, wrapped in paper with a bow around it. “I thought you might like to have this. Come on,” she said, holding back obvious sniggers. “You’re gonna love it.”

Tempest sighed, then grabbed the box in one hoof and ripped off the paper with her teeth. Inside was a book with bright colors, cover art that appeared to have been done in crayon, and the title “My Very First Spellbook” across the top.

She gritted her teeth and tossed it over her shoulder.

“Hey, hey!” Rainbow jumped for the book and caught it before it hit the clound. Ground. Cloud-ground. Whatever in Tartarus they called it here. Tempest shook herself, feeling a stress headache coming on.

“You can’t just throw this away!” Rainbow called out. “It’s a gift! I kept the dye, you kept the hat, that’s how this works!” She held it out to Tempest.

“Fine,” Tempest said. “I’ll be sure to hold onto it real tight.” She grabbed it in her magic. As she expected, it took no longer than a second for it to vibrate free and fling itself sky high. “Whoops,” she said, eyes locked with Rainbow.

Rainbow groaned and zoomed off to catch it again.

“Uuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuugh,” Tempest ughed.

“How—” Rainbow Dash bonked her head against the wall “—can—” bonk “—one—” bonk “—platoon—” bonk “—be—” bonk “—so—” bonk “—stupid?”

“Ugh.” Tempest rested her forehead against the wall opposite Rainbow’s. It was cool to the touch. Maybe it would make her headache go away.

“You know we’re gonna have to stay an extra day to finish teaching ‘em, right?” Rainbow Dash groaned, leaning her side against the wall. “How are we gonna tell the Princess that we’re missing our schedule because an entire city’s defense force sucks?”

“Well, look at the bright side,” Tempest said, grunting when she meant to chuckle. “Maybe you could take the extra day and get another five seconds on me.”

The effect was immediate, as though Tempest’s words were a lightning rod, and Rainbow’s ire the lightning. “What are you saying exactly?” Rainbow said, rounding on her.

“What I’m saying is….” Tempest stopped, and tapped her chin. “Actually, let me put it this way.”

She rummaged in her belongings for a few seconds before pulling out a larger box. “For you,” she said, offering it to Rainbow.

Rainbow snatched it without wasting any time, and ripped the paper to shreds. Inside was a “Fun and Fitness for Foals” weight set, advertised as having weights up to ten pounds. They were brightly colored and padded.

Rainbow glared first at the box, then at Tempest. “What in Tartarus is this? Are you saying I’m weak?”

“Numbers don’t lie, Miss ‘Thirty-Five Seconds’ Dash.”

“Oh, that is it!”

Rainbow jumped up, zipped to the window, yanked it open, and blasted into the night sky so quickly that the curtains were pulled through behind her. Tempest didn’t react, other than crossing the room to lay on the couch. It was closer than her bed. Not that she was physically tired, but her brain needed a break from the same repetitive nonsense. Over, and over, and over….

She stayed like that, staring at the opposite wall and stewing for several minutes, until Rainbow blew back through the window with a box in her hooves. “Here!” she yelled, and tossed it at Tempest, who caught it in one hoof.

The box said “For a Very Special Pony” on the cardboard part, but there was a clear plastic section to let her look inside.

And what was inside was a long, purple phallus with a fabric harness attached.

She stared at it for a few seconds, then stared up at Rainbow. “What’s this for?”

“It’s so you can literally go fuck yourself!”

Rainbow made a sound somewhere between a groan and a shout, then turned around, flicking her tail out, and stomped toward her room. She was blushing, too. Tempest took a moment to assess the package….

“No,” Tempest said, “it’s not.”

Rainbow stopped, one forehoof leaning on the wall next to her bedroom. “Trust me. It is.”

“No. If it were a dildo, yes. But you bought me a strap-on.” Almost without thinking about it, Tempest opened the box and removed the strap-on. “This isn’t to use on your own. This game takes two players.”

Rainbow was blushing, as if the sun were setting on her pretty face. “What are you talking about?”

“Rainbow Dash.” Tempest got up from the couch, looking over her shoulder at the pegasus behind her. “I don’t like you, and you don’t like me. But I think we can agree that we’ve both got a lot of stress to burn off.”

She turned around, just as she finished affixing the strap-on to her crotch. It jutted obscenely beneath her, and she felt it brush against the armor on her belly. “So how about we do just that. My room, five minutes. Be there.”

Without waiting for a reply from her beet-red, stammering counterpart, she turned tail and entered her room, closing the door behind her. It was good that Rainbow hadn’t followed her in, because the first step to getting ready to truly wear the strap-on would be to take it off: her armor was in the way of a truly stress-burning experience. With the slow care of experience, she removed her armor piece by piece.

Last to come off was the piece on the flank. As she pulled it off and stored it, her cutie mark was revealed: a spear point, broken off the shaft, in front of a burst of color.

As she re-affixed the strap-on, the door opened, and Tempest let out a breath she hadn’t known she was holding. Well, not literally holding. More like a breath of the soul. “Hey,” Rainbow said, creeping into the room, looking a lot less antagonistic than before; Tempest felt herself relaxing at the sight. “So, um, about what you said….”

“Yes?”

“Yes. I mean, yes, I’m up for it.”

“Good. I think we’re going to enjoy this.”

Without further ceremony, Tempest grabbed Rainbow and tossed her onto the bed, as easily as throwing a pillow. “Hey!” Rainbow started, and then stopped as she blushed, and stared at Tempest’s crotch. “Oh, sweet Luna.”

“It’s nice, isn’t it,” Tempest said, reaching back with a forehoof to rub the strap-on, feeling it press and grind against her own marehood.

“Actually, uh… I owe Spike twenty bits. And I’m wondering why you were ever hiding that.”

Tempest realized she was staring not at Tempest’s crotch, but at her flank—specifically, her cutie mark. “So, what does that mean?” Rainbow asked, as Tempest turned toward her. “You’re good at fighting?”

Tempest mounted the bed, and stepped forward until she was atop Rainbow Dash. “Tonight,” she whispered, “it means the same thing it has every day we’ve fought. It means I’m going to pound you until you beg for mercy.”

Rainbow’s face went so red, Tempest could hardly believe it had ever been blue. “Oh, boy.”

To Rainbow’s credit, she lasted longer in the sheets than she did in practice.

But not by much.

“Oh, wow,” Rainbow gasped, her chest heaving as she lay next to Tempest, both of them drenched with sweat. “Oh, wow. Stress, definitely burned off.”

Tempest chuckled, slowly bucking her hips against the strap-on, just because it felt nice. “I’m glad you feel the way I do. Now can you please get out of my bed?”

Rainbow rolled over to look at her. “What? You don’t wanna cuddle, or whatever else is supposed to happen after sex?”

Tempest imagined laying beside Rainbow Dash. Just being next to her. Totally exposed, unprepared for any strike. She winced. “No, I don’t think so.”

Rainbow pouted. It didn’t look like a jokey pout; if anything, it looked almost hurt, and Tempest was reconsidering her decision, just before Rainbow shrugged. “Okay, fine.” She pulled herself out of the tangled-up sheets and got gingerly on her hooves, and walked carefully to the door.

At the door, though, she stopped. “So, what are we?”

“What?” Tempest asked.

“I mean, I don’t think we’re girlfriends, right? I’m pretty sure we’re not even friends. So, like, what do we call the thing that's between us?”

“How about….” Tempest smiled. “Rivals? With benefits?”

Rainbow smiled back. “That works for me. G’night. Gonna kick your ass tomorrow, Fizzlepop!”

She walked out of the room and gently closed the door. Tempest sighed, relaxing into her sweat-covered bed. “Don’t call me...” she mumbled, quietly enough that Rainbow didn’t hear. She didn’t bother finishing it: there wasn’t any point.

She ground the strap-on against the sheets, appreciating the feeling for a while longer, then pulled the sheets off and undid the device. However, as she grabbed it with her hoof and made to return it to its box, she hesitated, an idea crossing her mind.

No, that would be stupid.

And yet.

Tempest walked to her room’s bathroom, still holding the strap-on, and slowly pressed it against her forehead.