Soaring Misty Skies

by wonderboltshackler98

Rating: teen
Tags: Romance, Adventure, Human, Comedy
Length: 4006

A simple crush, blossoming between future speedsters, or something more? Involving Soarin & Misty~

Who knows, maybe I'll throw in some definitely sexy encounters just for y'all. Anyone up for some secret watching, possibly classified as spying?
Who knows?~ ^_^

Published 1970-01-01 00:00:00 UTC
Last updated 2012-07-21 05:14:02 UTC

Backtrack the tracks

Misty Skies, commonly known as Misty, walked down the hallways of Las Pegasus Middle School, home of the first Wonderbolt, like, EVER. Grinning, and with a slight hop in her step, she slid up next to her best friend, Spitfire, and leaned against her locker. Studying her motions, putting books away and grabbing her bag, and asked casually, “Hey Spark, got any idea what you’re doing?” She raised an eyebrow as the flame-headed looker glanced at her with a sizzling grin that probably made guys fall all over themselves. Not that Misty cared. Much.  With a orange-eyed look in the general direction of the jock group, Spitfire spoke in her general, smoky voice, “Whatcha mean Misty? I was just getting my books for my next class.~” Rolling her eyes, Misty crossed her arms and waited until Spitfire sighed, smirking over at her in part annoyance, part admiration. Misty read her like a book, always. “What? A girl can’t skip class for a day?” Biting back a smile, Misty stood firm. “Oh, a day, is it? You’ve only skipped every Wednesday for the past month. What’s up? Oh, is it a boy?” Smile finally coming through at Spitfire’s blush, Misty squealed adorably, making several people turn and look at them as her yellow wings sprung out in excitement and she hopped in place. “Oh! It is so a boy! You should really see your face, your blush is so cute it’s almost-“ quickly cut off by a hand belonging to the now-nervous redhead, Misty stopped, smiling sheepishly as the hand was removed from her face. “Sorry Spark…you just, never really…show any interest in guys, that way, so I assumed you weren’t interested that way.” Soon after saying this, Misty’s own face turn a bright shade of pink as Spitfire laughed, holding her stomach as Misty fiddled with her icy-blue hair, bright aquamarine eyes looking anywhere but at her. Grinning largely, the burnt-orange eyed teen put a hand on her shoulder, speaking quietly but laughter lacing her voice, “Lesbo, huh? Well, I keep my options open, but anyway. Yeah, it’s a guy, but yah can’t tell anyone, alright? I’m trying to lay low for awhile, since this guy’s a bit quiet. I’ll introduce you two later, but, right now, I gotta go.” Looking around, the flame-headed girl grinned and walked away, soon disappearing in the crowd. Watching her go, Misty spoke a bit too quietly, “Alright…I’ll see you later, Spark…” Still spellbound, Misty stood in place awhile before taking a small step forward, and immediately getting pulled into the swarm. Letting out a small yelp, the petite teen tried to maneuver her way free, but instead rammed right into a rock-hard chest. Letting her books drop in surprise with a small gasp, Misty didn’t have time to see the person she just slammed into, mumbling an apology, she bent down and began gathering the papers, the crowd suddenly dispersing around her. With a small sigh, she reached for her library book on the art of spins and tricks of flying, and instead met a larger, clearly male hand. Frowning, she looked up, straight up into the deepest green eyes she’d ever seen, and blinked. With a grin, the jock commonly called Soarin, said in a voice she knew she shouldn’t like, “Uh, here’s your book. Misty, right?” Blinking again, she worked her mouth, but nothing came out. Darnit, what was wrong with her? He stood, and held out his hand to her when she didn’t speak. Pausing a moment, she grasped it and he pulled her up, and she nearly gasped again at the speed of it. “Oh, yeah…my name’s Misty. Yours is…Soarin?” Raising an eyebrow, clearly amused, the blue-haired jock nodded, and held out his hand again. It took her about five seconds to realize that he didn’t want to hold her hand, but was holding out her book. Blushing embarrassedly, she awkwardly took it and held it to her stomach protectively. With another grin, he opened his mouth to say something, but was cut off by one of his buddies, one with spiky dark grey hair and shades, who said in a joking manner, “C’mon Soarin! We’re gunna be late for track practice. Let’s go!” Blinking stupidly, Misty kept looking at him, until he finally tore his gaze from hers and yelled back, “Alright, alright, I’m coming goofball. Well, it was nice bumping into yah Misty.” She blushed again, looking down slightly when he gave her another charming grin, she spoke softly, “Yeah, um…sorry about that. Nice to…meet you too?” Trying for a smile, she was sure she came off looking like beauty pageant contestant with too much gunk on her teeth.

He simply gave her a grin, and then walked off to his buddies, her gaze following him the entire way. Letting out a small sigh as the butterflies in her stomach vanished, if only slightly, she glanced at her watch and eeped, making a quick dash for her classroom, a certain green-eyed gaze following her similiarly to her own a second earlier.

Shaking her head, Misty cleared thoughts from the memory, frowning. She stretched her arms over her head with a slight grunt, her icy-flame hair up in a ponytail as her wings fluttered lightly, buttery-yellow color glinting gently in the sunlight as she folded them in again, bending over and getting into the running position, aware of everybody’s eyes on her and the competition. Sucking in a deep breath, she exhaled slowly, clenching her hands, and unclenching them again. Blue eyes forward, she narrowed them and felt the silence ensue, on edge as she waited for the whistle. Leaning forward slightly, tense, she waited, the quiet almost suffocating her. Opening her wings slightly at the click from the whistle, right before it would scream, she grinned.

“PHEEEEEEETT!!”

Bolting from her stance, Misty flew straight out into the cool, clear air. Grin growing, she placed her hands before her in the diving position, and streaked ahead of the other school’s competitors. Wanting to shout in jubilation, she simply let the wind push against her as she flew back down, then flipped around and through the cloud hoops set up in the course. Spinning around a column designed for such, she whipped around obstacles, narrowly avoiding the small hurdles. She then flipped smoothly upward and her grin faded slightly, replaced by a confident smirk, carefully hiding the nervous, awkward girl she was way back when. With an inward sigh, she pushed those thoughts aside, pumping her wings faster and in smaller strokes as she continued upward, soon feeling the air start to thin. She then proceeded to close her wings in, and turned facing downward, soon spinning into a torpedo spiral, whipping past some straggling fliers still going upward. She smiled, sucking in a breath, waiting as the tension grew, seeing the audience hold their breath as she neared the ground, when she finally opened her wings, catching the air and then zooming for the finish, smile growing as she neared it, hearing the stands pound and scream in excitement, she dipped down lower, and then caught herself in a smooth stop, finally realizing her own short breaths, and the sweat dripping down her sides and face. Noticing the flame-headed striker sprinting for her, Misty grinned, opening her arms and hopping up into the arms of her best friend ever.

“I…I did it!” Spitfire smiled back, hugging what air she’d managed to gather, right back out of her with a laugh. “You sure did! Hey, now we are so going to celebrate this!” Nodding absently, Misty’s eyes grew slightly distant and her friend frowned, waving a hand in her face. Nothing. Glancing back over her shoulder, she saw why with a grin, putting an arm around her shoulder and pushing her in the direction of a certain blue-haired stud who had won second place, just after Misty. Soon realizing their direction, Misty gasped and desperately tried to plant her feet into place on the cloud grounds of the coliseum, grimacing and shaking her head. “Spark! You know I can’t talk to him, especially not right, when I just…”- Cutting off, suddenly right in front of him, she tried to smile. He glanced over, and, recognizing them, Soarin gave an easy grin. “Hey guys. Nice race back there, by the way, Misty.” Turning his marvelous green eyes toward her, Misty felt herself blush. Spitfire rolled her eyes when Misty said nothing, and knocked her in the back of the head slightly, making the speedster sputter a moment.

“Oh, thanks Soarin. You did pretty good too.” Getting her usual confidence back, if only slightly, Misty smiled at him. He chuckled, rubbing the back of his head with a sigh, rolling his eyes good-naturedly. “Thanks. Although, I could never compete with you. You fly way faster, which reminds me…you coming to the Wonderbolts show this Saturday? Everyone’s going.” Blue eyes widening, Misty grinned and nodded quickly, wings soon fluttering as if they’d never been racing, nearly lifting her off the ground. “Of course! I’ve never missed a show, and I don’t plan to start now. Anyway, I assume you’re going, too?” Nodding, he smiled back, nearly missing the gag Spitfire gave at his next words, which he returned with a glare. “Well, I was…wondering if you…wanted to, maybe, sit with me?” His usual confidence wavering for a moment, his smile weak as he looked at her. Blinking a moment, Misty nodded, and then her smile grew to epic proportions, almost hurting her face. “I’d love to!” Gaining his smile back, he nodded, looking slightly relieved as he walked off to join his friends, who he said something to, in which they all cheered loudly, (Maybe a bit too loudly, in her opinion. But, whatever.) and they all grinned, shuffling him off to the showers.

With the grin still on her face, Misty turned around and squealed, soon hugging the living crud out of poor Spitfire, who was laughing.

Don't remember what takes you away

Waking up from the dream with a gasp, Misty Skies sat straight up in bed, breath frosting slightly in the cool, winter air. Glancing out the window of her cloud home, she ran a hand through her icy hair, biting her lip until she was sure it was bleeding. Shaking her head, she pushed off the soft covers, certain she wouldn't get any more sleep that night. Simply sitting there for a moment, Misty sighed, putting her face in her hands as she tried to ignore the dream and memories assaulting her. Giving a groan of annoyance, she stood and walked out of her spacious room, covered in faded Wonderbolt posters, random pieces of clothing, and sometimes, a piece of pizza or a soda can. Sighing again, she walked quietly down the hall through a puddle of moonlight spilling in through a window from Luna's moon, and into the kitchen, where she barely glanced at Spitfire, who snored on the couch, hugging a pillow and a piece of popcorn on her head, the rest strewn about the floor messily. Giving a soft giggle, Misty tossed a blanket over the speedster, and walked to her fridge, searching through the meager contents absently. Closing it again, she plopped onto an armchair and crossed her arms over her chest, gazing at nothing in particular. With a frown, she tried to remember the last time she'd had that dream, which made her shake her head slightly, not caring enough anyway. Startling her out of her reverie, a soft voice whispered absently, "You shouldn't even try to guess, in my opinion. I think it was the pie from last night, again, in my opinion." Looking over at Spitfire, Misty grinned. "You have popcorn in your hair, you know."

Raising an eyebrow, Spitfire spoke again, obviously hiding a frown, "Don't try to change the subject. I know you dreamed about that race again,-" at this point opening one eye and glancing over at the embarrassed woman on the armchair, Spitfire smirked slightly, continuing.-"because, every time you do, you get up, go to the fridge, when you know damn well you aren't hungry, and then come and sit on that chair trying to figure out where it went wrong." Sitting up at this point, the redheaded woman looked over at her with sad eyes, and finally sighed, holding open her arms, which Misty readily ran into, choking on a dry sob. Patting her back softly, Spitfire closed her eyes, speaking softly. "Misty...I know, that you won't want to hear it, and won't believe me, but...I think, and Cloudchaser and Flitter too, we all think you should move on...maybe it won't get to you as badly then." Grimacing at the stiffening of her friends body, Spitfire inwardly sighed, and waited for the explosion that had happened whenever she brought up the subject to Misty. Surprising her, Misty said softly, almost brokenly, and the sounds tore at Spitfire's heart as she listened. "I-I...think you're right. I should have...let it go a...long time ago Spark..." Using the childhood nickname, Misty felt better, and sat back to look the surprised looker in those orange eyes of hers. "I mean really, at least...at least it could've been worse. I guess." Spitfire doubted this a little, but slightly agreed, because for the first time in almost three years, she was starting to see life in those gorgeous aquamarine eyes she adored so much. Wanting to give a whoop, Spitfire merely grinned and squeezed Mist's hand, saying softly, a bit hopefully, "How about we go see the Wonderbolts show this weekend?"

Misty grinned, and did a loose loop around Spitfire as they flew towards the Cloudsdale Coliseum, holding her ticket to the show in her pocket of her soft yellow practice shorts, wings beating hard as they easily flew past other people, whooping and laughing as they spiraled and flipped through them with barely a thought. "Hey Spark, got any idea how slow you are today?" Returning Spitfire's good-natured sticking out of the tongue with a teasing grin, Misty raised an eyebrow. Spitfire rolled her eyes, and pulled up next to her easily, grinning back as she said, "Slow, is not in my dictionary. Hey! I heard that the Wonderbolts got new members, and are even now holding auditions!" Blinking in surprise, narrowly swerving a crowd of straggling elderly winged, Misty glanced at Spitfire, who returned her gaze with an an almost fangirl squeal. No, Misty corrected herself with a giggle, not almost. Spitfire's grin grew, as she looked at Misty again with an expectant gaze, which the Icy-headed woman rolled her eyes, knowing what she wanted. "I dunno Spark, I mean, there'll probably be tons of people there, and we'll stand in place for hours, in Celestia's sun! I doubt that we'll even-" cutting off at the flat look from her friend, Misty widened her eyes as Spitfire merely motioned behind them to the many people gaping at them and said quietly, "We've been racing since we were tikes, and do maneuvers without a thought that so many people are even now trying to compete with." Misty held her tongue for a moment, wanting to argue at the maneuver thing, but she knew all of it was true. Simply flying in silence for at least ten minutes, Spitfire herself flying in loopy circles, bored and trying to hide her anxiety at her friend's answer, who's opinion she held to her heart. When she heard the words, she dropped straight out of her loops and fell right onto their owner. "We are so getting into there. OOF!"

Spitfire was hopping in place as they held their spots in line, her golden wings beating slightly as she grinned. "Oh, thankyouthankyouthankyou! I also heard they're next week, so we should get here around 7:00, especially if they start at 8:30, because, who doesn't wanna have time to see them and get some good points in before they see our awesomeness? I mean, really..." Misty mostly tuned her out, smiling to herself and taking a look around her with her gaze betraying nothing of how she felt. Which was, if anyone was wondering, freaking nervous. This was where it all happened, anyway, and she- cutting her thoughts off there with a small scowl, Misty looked back at Spitfire, finally noticing they were at the front of the line. She must have moved up without noticing it, she decided as she handed her ticket to the dude who gave her a stiff nod, immediately dismissing her, which she ignored, mostly caught up in her thoughts as she took Spitfire's hand and was lead past the sights and sounds, straight into the coliseum.

Misty's wings fluttered in excitement as she gazed around the magnificent structure, glancing at Spitfire with a bright grin, who returned it readily. "Every time I see it...it's like new." Spitfire said wistfully, her eyes practically glowing as she looked around the beloved place that housed so many races and activities. They both quickly joined in with the rest of the crowd to flying to their seats in the stands, both of them jittery as little kids at their first show. Misty nodded absently when Spitfire mentioned getting some snacks, and sat back in her seat, content to daydream for awhile. Closing her eyes a bit with a soft sigh, she nearly screamed aloud when she heard a whistle blow, her eyes flying wide. Sitting back up with a soft gasp of protest, she barely registered the Wonderbolts crowding near the starting line and nearly bypassing one of the taller of the group, who's dark blue windblown hair made her suck in an almost painful breath. Although he wasn't facing her, she was almost positive that if he turned around, here would be a set of deep green eyes to go with that hair.

Spitfire came back, thinking about if there was possibly a bacon-flavored popcorn flavoring out there, and if so, she was going to worship Celestia herself and cry over life's beauty. With a soft snort, she shook her head. Opening her wings and flying up towards her seat, she cringed at the loud screech of the whistle, and looked towards the field, her smoky orange eyes landing on a familiar head of blue hair, which she cursed under her breath at, making the old woman she was passing give her a dirty look. "Well look who's not deaf. Guess you're the new 1% hun." Shaking her head, she scanned the crowd and flinched visibly as she finally saw Misty, inevitably, staring straight at the possible Soarin. With an inward sigh, she sped through the crowd and sat down silently next to her, almost jumping straight out of her seat when she felt her friends hand touch hers. Gaze jerking towards her, she was met with surprised blue eyes, who's owner said quietly, almost amused, but not quite. "I was just reaching for the popcorn. Chill out Spark, I told you I'm over it." With an audible sigh of relief, Spitfire grinned, and shrugged absently, basically throwing off "What didyah expect?" vibes all over the place. Chuckling, Misty tore her gaze away and looked back at the track, trying to ignore the man she knew was in the middle, and almost managing it.

Almost.

A different point of view

Soarin gazed over his teammates with a practiced eye, looking for any problems, hindering items, or imperfections. He smiled slightly when he noticed one of the females, Echo, or more known as Fleetfoot, returned from her practice, and blinked over at him, her pale green eyes glazed over slightly as she seemed to study him before smiling in recognition. He nodded back, whispering slightly, "You're late?" He saw her blush, and it reminded him of a similar blush, from long ago, but shook it away. No use getting distracted now. She spoke softly, shrugging, "I wanted to get some extra time in. Nothing big." He simply nodded, lingering on the thought that that was all he did lately. Talking less and less until he was some old pinecone with no voice, just a strong neck. He raised an eyebrow, did pinecones even have necks? Whatever, he shook his head, scattering the thoughts and continuing down the line. He smirked as he came to the end, no imperfections visible. He nodded to the group, -again, the pinecone came to mind,- and they dispersed to their starting positions. He turned around and gazed at the crowd, smiling slightly again, until his gaze whipped to two females that were laughing loudly and messing around. He frowned, and studied them, noting their hair, Flame-themed, and an Icy-streaked, were a bit too familiar for his comfort. His frown deepening, her felt himself cross his arms, and resisted the urge to fly up and demand they behave. He tried to ignore the thought, and his gaze once more swung the the blue-haired one, making his stomach flutter for some reason. It was only when she looked up, showcasing bright aquamarine eyes on that gorgeous, seductively innocent face, and his jaw dropped in surprise.

It couldn't be.

It was impossible! She wouldn't come back here, not knowing he would be here. Soarin's thoughts turned sour as he mentally cursed, once again pushing thoughts aside. He sighed, looking back up and blinking as she waved at him, almost knocking him back on his ass with that dazzling smile of hers. He pinched his arm a bit, to ensure he was awake and grinned when he realized her was. He waved back, and his gaze fell to the red-head next the beauty of his nightmares and dreams. She raised an eyebrow, smirking a little, and he chuckled to himself. Good ol' Spitfire. His gaze going back to Misty, he noticed her looking the other way and ran his gaze down her body, over her ample chest, delicately dipped waist, and sinful flare of her hips that lead down deliciously golden thighs, and he stopped himself there, noting that his gaze caught somewhere it shouldn't. Swallowing and looking the other way, he cursed himself. Great. Not only did he have to do a performance that required extreme concentration and speed, as well as athletic ability and cunning turns, he had to do it all with a now rock-hard boner. He sighed, and gave himself one last glance before walking back to his teammates. It was time to begin the show.

Soarin lined up next to his team, Echo flanking on side, and Thunder Strike on his other. He assumed the starting position and felt his wings open slowly, in unison with the others as the stadium grew silent, waiting, watching their every move. He merely smiled, not betraying a speck of nervousness as he leaned forward in anticipation, his muscles taut as he waited for the starting bell.

...

...

"BRRRRINNNGG!!"

Soarin and his team shot off like rockets, their wings beating furiously against the sky as the flew upward and out, swirling around each other and sometimes even back flipping and spinning over their team members. Soarin sucked in a breath, feeling his wings beat faster as they all changed direction and he pulled ahead of the others. Gritting his teeth, he flexed his arms and flew faster, when he suddenly changed direction and spiraled through the loop of his mates and pulled through the firework display at the end. They all grinned and raced around in a spiraling tornado-like fashion, and then bursting apart as they landed in front of the fans, grinning and waving. Soarin landed smoothly, almost artfully, and chuckled, feeling his wings ache from the effort, and wiped some sweat from his brow, his gaze seeking out a certain blue-haired woman in the crowd and winking at her, which she simply rolled her eyes and smiled at.

Thinking to himself, Soarin mentally patted his own back."Not a bad day, bro. Not a bad day."

Time to hit the showers.