The Blessing in Our Stars

Chapters

I. What Tomorrow May Bring
II. Speed of Dash
III. Clouded Thoughts

I. What Tomorrow May Bring

The thinly-disguised scowl carving lines of irritation into Rainbow Dash's muzzle told Fluttershy everything that she needed to know: stargazing is going to be yet another addition to the list of activities that she considers lame. Despite herself, Fluttershy couldn't help but grin at the look on her fellow pegasus' face. Having the companionship of her oldest friend on a night like this was enough for her, she decided, and while it was a shame that she couldn't get her to appreciate the starlit beauty of the sky – beyond it being a nothing more than a mere backdrop for her awesome stunts, that is – at least Rainbow Dash was here.

Fluttershy let her neck loll slightly, allowing her head to lean into the gentle breeze and enjoying the light caress of the cool wind that flowed through the town in order to take the edge off of the balmy Summer night. Somewhere on the other side of Ponyville, she knew, a flotilla of their fellow pegasi would be beating their mighty wings in unison to create the calming wind that rolled through this idyllic corner of Equestria. She did not envy them this task in the slightest. Fluttershy was well aware that her natural talent for flying was about as strong as Pinkie Pie's ability to go unnoticed.

Returning her attention to the majesty of stars above, Fluttershy couldn't stop an appreciative sigh from escaping her lips. Thank you, Princess Luna, for the beautiful night you have gifted us. My only wish is that my friend could see it as I do.

Whatever thoughts were going through the mind of her cranky companion, Fluttershy thought it best not to ask. She didn't cancel. I could tell that she wanted to, but she didn't. I guess I just have to be grateful for that.

Rainbow Dash's attention was seized by an abrupt gust of wind wrenching provocatively at the leaves of some nearby trees; her expression changed, just for a moment, to a wistful look. It occurred to Fluttershy that Rainbow Dash had a lot in common with the wind: she was a teasing, impish spirit, a force of nature, one that tugged and pulled at everything just because she could. Just to generate a reaction. A pang of guilt stabbed at her as she contemplated her selfishness: she'd much rather be out there, rustling up a storm, than sitting here with me.

This little adventure had been borne out of a conversation Fluttershy had a couple of weeks ago; whilst returning a few books to the library, Twilight Sparkle suggested that Fluttershy should try expanding her horizons beyond animal welfare. After offering her opinion on a few topics that she might be interested in, the excitable unicorn had finally hit upon astronomy. After borrowing some books on the subject, Fluttershy's interest in it had been more than whetted, and Twilight was only too happy to educate her on the finer points of stargazing. “In fact,” she had said while setting up the telescope that habitually sat on her balcony, “there's going to be a meteor shower in a couple of days. It's going to be so bright that it ought to be visible even without a telescope. If the skies stay clear, that is.”

After checking with Rainbow Dash and discovering that today would, indeed, be a cloudless day, Fluttershy had put the notion to her friend that they spend the night on the hills outside Ponyville and watch the meteor shower together. Rainbow Dash had been reticent, to say the least – the prospect of sitting still for a couple of hours was not an appealing one to her – but she'd eventually agreed for the sake of spending some time with her best friend.

On a night as clear as this one, with no pollution – light or otherwise – to form a distracting haze, even the wispy cerise streamers of the Horsehead Nebula itself were visible with nothing more than the naked eye. One set of eyes watched raptly at the mesmerising vista of stars, the other was anything but, but the Element of Loyalty was not one to break a promise, something that Fluttershy was all too aware of.

Fluttershy, stretching her wings out and resettling them into a more comfortable position, gave Rainbow Dash a sidelong glance. Well, at least she's actually looking at the sky now, I suppose. Her memories drifted back to their childhood, to the horrible days of Flight School; Rainbow Dash had become her minder, almost an older sister, after rescuing her from some bullies. Perhaps their friendship endured because of their opposing natures? Maybe the headstrong pegasus appreciated the counsel of the timid one, even if she didn't always (or, indeed, ever) listen to her advice? Fluttershy shook her head slowly, her lustrous pink mane falling over her face. A gesture that was all too typical for her.

Maybe she feels responsible for me in some way? Fluttershy couldn't make her mind up as to whether that idea was sweet or patronising. I'm not exactly a kid any more, after all.

“Rainbow …?” Fluttershy said tentatively, nervously fidgeting with the hooves of her forelegs.

“Huh? What's up, Fluttershy?” replied Rainbow Dash, craning her neck until she was facing her friend. Her thoughts on what apocalyptically-dangerous stunt she could pull next week to make up for the tedium of sitting through this were cut-off abruptly. While she knew that there were doubtless much worse ways to spend an evening, camping out on some random hill in the middle of nowhere was a trifle dull to one so used to mane-raising action. Some ponies – Rarity, for instance – liked to put their hooves up at the end of a difficult day, relax with cocoa and the newspaper, but that had never been Rainbow Dash's style. Tranquillity was a nice place to visit, sure, but she wasn't quite ready to live there yet.

“You're bored, aren't you?” Fluttershy padded at the ground in front of her softly.

“No, of course not,” said Rainbow Dash a little too hurriedly, grateful for two things: that Fluttershy couldn't see the crease of her muzzle in the darkness, and that she wasn't voicing her lie to Applejack who would've picked up on it immediately and made sure that she lived to regret trying to be dishonest in the first place. “I mean, yeah, it's a change of pace for me, sitting still, but I don't mind.”

“Thank you,” Fluttershy said, her hoof reaching out to brush Rainbow Dash's withers. She decided not to press the issue any further; she'd given her the opportunity to leave and she hadn't taken it, so now they were committed to seeing this night through.

“Don't mention it.” Rainbow Dash gave her friend a quick glance before returning her gaze to the sky; yes, it was very pretty to look at it, but it was even better for flying through. To a mind not well-versed in such things, one point of blueish-white light was very much like any other. “We'd have gotten a better view in Cloudsdale, you know.”

“Yes, I suppose,” Fluttershy said slowly, her eyes narrowing slightly as a frown darkened her face.

“But here is good, too,” Rainbow Dash said quickly, smiling bashfully, not realising that their old home town was going to be a source of contention still. That so many bad memories lurked in Fluttershy's mind was, she supposed, not unexpected when one considered how timid she was, but Rainbow Dash had hoped that her friend had finally begun putting that painful past behind her after she'd emerged as a hero from their recent attempts at transporting water to Cloudsdale. The respect and admiration she'd earned that day had given her a bit of confidence, but it seemed that with every step forward that she made there would inevitably come two steps backward.

Rainbow Dash's thoughts quickly turned to the day of the race; once again, she was silently grateful to the darkness for masking her expression from Fluttershy, but this time it was because of a blush reddening her muzzle as she recalled her inept phrasing in terming it a race for Fluttershy's honour. During the relay, Fluttershy had been knocked from her cloud perch, but had somehow made a miraculous landing in Ponyville thanks to some butterflies that just happened to be in the right place at the right time. It sent a shudder through the core of Rainbow Dash's being to contemplate what might've happened otherwise …

After falling in love with the ground, Fluttershy had begged her parents to let her move there permanently; the local veterinarian, having been suitably astonished with her talent for animals, offered to put her up and take her on as his apprentice. Reluctantly, they'd cast aside their own hopes of seeing her join the weather team and supported their daughter in her new goal. Fluttershy had been adamant about maintaining her relationship with Rainbow Dash, however, and so they'd agreed that, for a few hours per week, the two of them would do something together. Each week, they'd alternate on who chose the activity, and the only rule was no backing out. Whether it was a butterfly migration, or cave-diving, or a visit to the Scariest Cave in Equestria, they had to see the day out completely.

Naturally, thought Rainbow Dash with a resigned smile, as they got older that sense of idealism had dissipated somewhat. They still got together once in a while, but more often than not one or the other had been forced to cancel because of the demands of their respective careers. In fact, she recalled, it had been some months since they'd even so much as exchanged a Hi to each other before Twilight Sparkle had brought them together as the Elements of Harmony. “Huh? Did you say something?”

“I said, They're beautiful, aren't they?” said Fluttershy, her tone a mixture of reverence for the sight above and amusement at her friend's inattentiveness, eyes briefly flicking upwards as the first of the meteors burned up in the atmosphere, creating delicate, tapering points of light across the night sky.

It was as close to pure enthusiasm as Fluttershy ever got, and Rainbow Dash felt a sense of shock at hearing her express herself for something other than a cute, fluffy animal. Her beryl eyes were as bright as crystal and they seemed to reflect the dancing starlight above. “Um, I suppose they're all right, if that's what you're into,” Rainbow Dash said, a surge of shame jolting through her for putting such a downer on her friend's obvious delight. “Uh, I mean, how can I enjoy the view up there when the one down here is so much better ...” Almost as soon as the words were out of her mouth, she wanted to suck them back in and eat them.

Pathetic. Obvious. Crass. That's what they'll carve on my headstone.

Fluttershy looked at her friend oddly for a moment, then her eyes darted back and forth across the landscape in confusion; during the day, when Celestia's sun bathed the town and the surrounding hills in a warm coating of honeydew light, it was certainly a treat for the eyes, but this side of midnight? Like most of Equestria in the dark, it made for a grim spectacle to Fluttershy's way of thinking. Luna's moon, pretty as it was in its own austere way, cast stark, threatening shadows everywhere. Even the most innocuous of objects was rendered sharp-edged, spiky and dangerous in the waxy light. If she'd been out here alone, Fluttershy knew that she'd have been too frightened out of her wits to enjoy the splendour above. “Uh, I guess it's just not my thing.” She could feel her ears flattening against the side of her head, fearing that she'd offended Rainbow Dash with her comment. Just when she was starting to open up to this, I go and put my hoof in it.

Much to her surprise, however, she heard Rainbow Dash trying to stifle a giggle by biting down on her hoof. “You're not still afraid of the dark, are you?” she asked teasingly between fits of laughter. Part of her was relieved that Fluttershy hadn't cottoned on to what she'd actually been implying, however.

“I'm afraid of a lot of things still,” Fluttershy replied, swinging a foreleg back and forth through the air distractedly, wishing that, just for once, she wasn't so transparent. If it had been anypony else teasing her, she might have been offended, but it was okay when it was Rainbow Dash. She meant well, in her own silly, frequently insensitive way. After a long moment of silence, she added, “If you hadn't agreed to come with me out here tonight, I would've sat alone in my cottage. I mean, not alone, the animals are there, of course, but … I'd have missed all this-” her hoof traced the arc of the meteors as they continued to rain down on the atmosphere “-so I'm grateful to you that you did.”

“It might not be a Pinkie Promise,” Rainbow Dash said, miming sticking a hoof in her eye, “but I still keep them all the same. I don't let my friends down when they need me.”

“I know that,” said Fluttershy, feeling a smile tug at the corners of her muzzle. Her friend was serious about loyalty, and it would have to be something pretty big to stop her from fulfilling her obligations to the ponies that she cared about most. “All the same, I know that this isn't very fun for you. I know you'd much rather be zipping through Ghastly Gorge, avoiding quarry eels, or practising the sonic rainboom, or-” her spiel was interrupted suddenly by something hard and cinnamon-tasting colliding gently with her muzzle.

“Stop, Fluttershy,” Rainbow Dash said firmly, not yet removing her hoof from her friend's lips for fear that she would start up again. She narrowed her eyebrows until she found an appropriately serious expression. “Honestly, there's nowhere in Equestria that I'd rather be right now than here. Yes, I'll happily admit that I would never have chosen this for myself, but it's never been about what we do together, but about being together. Right?”

A surge of emotion coursed through Fluttershy and, even with the knowledge that Rainbow Dash wasn't one for public displays of affection, she threw her forelegs around her waist all the same and pulled her in for a tight embrace. “Thank you, Rainbow Dash. You saying that … it means more to me than you could ever imagine.”

Smiling good-naturedly, Rainbow Dash found herself automatically returning the hug; the proximity and warmth of her friend were actually welcome, especially as the night wore on and got gradually cooler. She relaxed into the nuzzle, letting out a breath that she didn't even realise she was holding, shivering slightly. Filling her lungs up slowly, Rainbow Dash felt her nostrils being tickled by a soft, peaty aroma. It was an unusual scent for a pegasus to have, she knew, but the floral, lavender-like odour seemed perfectly in keeping with Fluttershy's more grounded nature.

“Mm,” Fluttershy said dreamily, dimly aware of that fact that Rainbow Dash's neck was rubbing softly against her own. “That feels good.” Almost immediately, she regretted having done so when Rainbow Dash, startled either by the comment itself or the sudden realisation of just how close together they'd gotten, broke out of the clinch and, flustered, scooted on her haunches back along the grass to where she had originally been sitting.

“I'm so sorry,” said Rainbow Dash, unable to prevent her wings from flapping open of their own accord in a fight-or-flight response, a panicked tone making her voice crack even more than it normally did. To Fluttershy, it was so strange to see and hear her friend being so … meek. “I, uh, I just … I guess I spaced-out there for a second.” She was flushing profusely, profoundly embarrassed by the situation that she had allowed to develop.

The nuzzling had been unintentional, Fluttershy knew that, but that hadn't stopped it from being any less pleasant, had it? “Um, I should be the one apologising, I think,” she said forcing a smile. “I didn't mean to make things so awkward with what I said just now. I was just, uh, really enjoying being close to another pony. It's not a normal state of affairs for me, you know?”

“Heh, yeah,” replied Rainbow Dash, folding her wings back into their customary position by her sides; her tension had evaporated somewhat, but her cheeks were still tinged with red. It was no secret amongst their friends that Fluttershy was rather inexperienced when it came to other ponies. Innocence – naivete, if you were being less-kind – coupled with her overwhelming timidity made it difficult for her to get close to anypony else, and even their own close-knit group often had trouble getting through to her at the best of times. “I mean, it sucks for you, but I get it.”

“That's okay,” said Fluttershy a little bit too quickly, not able to make eye-contact with her friend all of a sudden. She found that she was having trouble articulating her thoughts; part of her, most of her, felt shame at what had happened. What was so wrong with enjoying a hug with another pony? What was so wrong about her body being close to yours? Your necks touching, her breath on your skin? Fluttershy bit her lower lip, wanting to forget what had just happened. There was another part of her, however, one long repressed but insistent nonetheless, that was filled with other ideas.

Her wings could only envy the speed at which the thoughts were racing through the mind of Rainbow Dash at that moment, too; she was grateful not to be in the sky for once because she felt as though more and more of her body's resources were being diverted to cope with her adrenaline-fuelled musings, and that was an unusual situation for her to be in. Rainbow Dash exhaled sharply and watched, enthralled, as the breath seemed to crystallise in slow motion in front of her. Part of being a good friend is making them happy, and Fluttershy was so happy just then. Tartarus, I was happy, too.

“Is something on your mind, Rainbow Dash?” asked Fluttershy, studying her friend curiously.

“When is there ever?” Rainbow Dash replied, inwardly cursing herself for defaulting to her usual mechanism of trying to avoid a serious moment by deflecting it with feeble humour. “Only time something's on my mind is when I've crashed into it, right?” It's not like I haven't been thinking about it, about her, in that way, but c'mon. She's so innocent, so naïve, and to be honest I quite like having her that way. Some ponies deserve to keep their innocence intact.

A moment of silence passed between the two friends; whatever spark that might have been forming between them, both were well aware that it was now well and truly grounded. Dissipating into the cold, dark earth before it had a chance to become anything more than a weak jolt of electricity. And maybe it was for the best, Fluttershy thought, her chest feeling heavy with the weight of all the things that she wished she could say. “We, uh, maybe we should think about getting home?” she said, tilting her head in the direction of the welcoming points of light radiating from the cosy little village far below. The storm had come and gone. Hearth and home, a nice glass of warm milk, and a good night's sleep … and in the morning, we'll have forgotten all about everything that so nearly happened up here.

“Yeah,” Rainbow Dash said, nodding her head in agreement and feigning a yawn. “I'm bushed. Besides, you'll have to check that Angel Bunny hasn't pulled your cottage apart looking for your secret stash of sugar carrots while you've been out.” Despite having barely moved in the past couple of hours, it was with an easy grace that she pulled herself onto all four hooves. Fluttershy could only feel a sense of envy toward that toned, athletic body, forming as it did such a blunt contrast to her own.

Fluttershy knew that her cantankerous rabbit was probably fast asleep now, but it was sweet of Rainbow Dash to provide the excuse all the same. Letting her mane droop over her face as she stood up, she said, “Um, I'm really sorry if I've embarrassed you.”

Rainbow Dash opened her mouth to respond, but after a moment it was clear that nothing was forthcoming and she let it close again. What was there to say, really? They conducted their uneventful journey back to Ponyville in silence, walking all the way, and she did her best not to show her frustration at this. Fluttershy, for her part, had retreated back into her shell, and she was remaining a couple of paces behind Rainbow Dash which only served to increase her irritation; over and over, she cursed that one indiscreet comment that had, for a moment, threatened to change their entire relationship. “That feels good.”

She didn't want me to stop, Rainbow Dash's mind told her, sneaking a glance at her sluggish friend. I didn't want to stop either. If she hadn't said anything, if she hadn't made me realise who I was getting close to … if it had been anypony else, I wouldn't have had a problem, but I can't do that to her. Not my best friend. “Huh? We're here already?” she suddenly said out loud, blinking in confusion at the fact that they were standing right in front of Fluttershy's cottage. Whoa, just how out of it was I?

“I, um, I guess I'll see you tomorrow, then,” Fluttershy said, a brittle, though sincere, smile on her face as she opened the door. Suddenly remembering her manners, she added, “Uh, unless you'd like to come in for a drink first, that is?”

She's trying, Rainbow Dash realised, to put everything back to normal as soon as possible. Tomorrow, this'll be just another embarrassing memory for her. And that's for the best, isn't it? I should politely decline her offer, head home, and in a couple of weeks everything will be exactly the way it was. “You know, I really could use a drink,” she said, not even waiting for Fluttershy's leave before pushing past her and entering the dark cottage. It was fortunate that ponies were used to her being rude, otherwise she may just have felt a damn sight worse than she already did for just barging in like that.

“What can I get you?” asked Fluttershy, following close behind Rainbow Dash.

“Anything will be fine.”

“Okay,” Fluttershy said, heading toward the kitchen. She gestured to the still-darkened living area with a hoof. “Take a seat, I'll be back in a moment.”

While Fluttershy went to get their drinks, Rainbow Dash took the opportunity to light a couple of lanterns, the flowery aroma of the oil tickling her nostrils as the smoke wafted from the burning wicks; the living room was small and cosy, and the effect was only enhanced with a ruddy bronze glow warming it, with a couple of large sofas centred around the fireplace. She hoped that she wasn't causing any discomfort or annoyance to the menagerie of animals that made their home throughout the cottage, but it would have been even more awkward for them if she was to blunder into their dens whilst stumbling around in the gloom.

True to her word, just as she was settling into place on one of the sofas, Rainbow Dash heard Fluttershy's quiet, echoing hoofsteps on the hardwood floor naught but a moment later. Perched in-between her wingtips, she held a tray with two frothing mugs of amber liquid on it. The sugary sweet scent of the drink was the first thing that hit Rainbow Dash, and that sent her salivary glands into overdrive when she quickly identified the smell. “No way, is that …?”

“Sweet Apple Acres' finest,” said Fluttershy, confirming the suspicion with a happy nod of her head while placing the tray on the table in front of Rainbow Dash. It sent a merry warmth through her heart to see her friend looking so excited, especially after the trying events of the evening thus far.

“How were you able to get hold of this? I thought …” Rainbow Dash's eyes went wide, wondering what sorcery or blackmail Fluttershy had used to get Applejack to part with even one bottle of the secret supply of reserve stock that her family kept at the farm for special events.

“Do you remember when Winona got sick a few weeks ago?” Fluttershy asked, inwardly shuddering at the memory of the poorly collie and the fretful Applejack. In the end, thankfully, it turned out to be nothing too serious, though it had resulted in a lot of sleepless nights for all concerned nonetheless. “To thank me for helping her through it, Applejack offered me anything I wanted in return. When I told her about the night out we had planned, I asked her for a bottle from her reserve knowing how much you'd love it.” Her face turned bright red. “She, uh, she told me that if it had been anypony else asking, she would've said no.”

“Rarity's gonna be so jealous.”

“Why's that?” asked Fluttershy, a look of confusion on her face.

“She's about to have competition as the Element of Generosity. If it were me, I'm not sure I'd be able to part with even a single drop of this stuff.”

Fluttershy could only respond by turning even redder; those long, lonely nights spent caring for the sick dog had been totally worth it just to see that adoring look on Rainbow Dash's face. Hope flooded through her. I don't know what I was so worried about. We'll be able to put this whole sorry business behind us, no problem whatsoever.

Grabbing her mug, Rainbow Dash drank deeply, greedily, from it, letting out a satisfied sigh when she'd finished; as always, the apples were absolutely perfect. While she didn't know much about harvesting, she could say with some confidence that they had been bucked from the trees when they were at their ripest and stored before losing any of their flavour or bite. The cider itself was syrupy, crisp and sweet, and it flowed down her throat without ever once becoming sticky or cloying, nor did it have any of that irritating dryness that tended to linger on the back of the tongue when inferior produce was used. “Best. Cider. Ever!”

Fluttershy giggled around her own glass; she didn't have that same relish for alcoholic products that her friend did, though she certainly enjoyed her drink all the same. It made it all the sweeter to share it with Rainbow Dash, knowing that it made her so happy, especially after what she had gone through to get it in the first place. “Tonight wasn't so bad after all, was it?” she said, taking a small, quick sip, then placing her glass down in front of her.

Placing her mug back on the table, Rainbow Dash scratched the back of her neck with her hoof, a pensive expression creeping onto her muzzle. “D'you remember a few weeks ago when we were trying to get the water from the river up to Cloudsdale and it seemed like everything was going wrong at once?”

“I'm not likely to ever forget,” Fluttershy replied, shivering even though the living room had warmed up significantly thanks to the suffusing heat from the lanterns. Throughout her life, she'd been convinced that Fate was playing a cruel trick on her by giving her wings; an earth pony in the body of a pegasus, living in a world of speed and clouds that she felt no kinship for. The ground was where she knew she belonged, caring for the boundless nature that thrived there … just as she thrived in its company. Her parents, even Rainbow Dash, didn't really understand that, but they didn't need to. They supported her and that was enough. “I'm so sorry that we missed out on the record. If only I'd tried harder ...” Once again, her mane fell over her eyes, this time to hide the tears forming there. “I didn't want to let you down, Rainbow Dash.”

“Fluttershy, sh,” Rainbow Dash said softly, getting up from her seat and padding softly across the short distance between their chairs. She sat in front of her friend and looked deeply into her eyes. “It was not your fault that we missed out on the record. And you did not let me down at all. Don't forget, if it hadn't been for you we wouldn't have got the water up there in the first place!” While some ponies used modesty to deflect any sense of pride that they felt about their achievements, Fluttershy was motivated by the genuine belief that she'd done nothing that was worthy of praise or merit. She felt herself to be … inferior.

“I should've tried harder,” Fluttershy said in a small, fillylike voice. “Not for Cloudsdale, but for you. I wanted to … impress you.” She turned her head away from Rainbow Dash's inquisitive gaze at this remark. “Tartarus, I'm such an idiot. Putting my hoof in it again, saying something stupid.”

“You are not an idiot,” Rainbow Dash said, taking Fluttershy's hooves in her own. She tried to keep her sense of giddy delight at Fluttershy's little revelation dampened. The idea that she'd try to impress her with her flying was too cool. “But this isn't why I brought it up. I just wanted to tell you that … well, I wanted to thank you.”

“Thank me? For what?”

“For always being there for me, for us, no matter what. Chasing dragons, battling Discord, trying to force a river of water up into the skies … no matter what your fears, you've never shirked a challenge because of them. No matter how much you might have wanted to. It makes you the bravest pony in Equestria in my book,” said Rainbow Dash. “I love how hard you're willing to push yourself for the sake of your friends.” For me, she added silently.

The urge to cry intensified within Fluttershy at Rainbow Dash's heartfelt speech and she was about to bow her head to let her mane cover her face again, but her friend wasn't going to let her get off so easy this time; she brushed the long pink mane aside, and their eyes met and locked. “You don't have to hide from me, Fluttershy,” she said, tenderly stroking her mane. “Um, there's more that I've been wanting to tell you, and I dunno if now is the right time, but-”

“-It's okay,” said Fluttershy quietly, putting her hoof on Rainbow Dash's, looking down when she found herself unable to meet the intensity of her gaze for very long. Her throat felt dry and her chest heaved, but she managed to say, “Tell me.”

“Um, what I've been trying to tell you is that … in those moments when you conquer your fears ...” Rainbow Dash found it difficult to talk all of a sudden; she felt a lump forming in her throat, one that was threatening to push down all the words that she so desperately wanted, needed, to get off her chest before they made her burst. “When I see you in that split-second after you do something amazing, just before you convince yourself that it's nothing special, that anypony else would've done a much better job, that's when you look the most beautiful to me. Uh, I've had these feelings for you for a while now, but I've never said anything because I didn't want to screw up our friendship.”

“Rainbow Dash-”

Rainbow Dash held up a hoof to cut her off “-sh, just let me finish, okay? I dunno if I'll be able to get all of this out if I have to start over. “When we were hugging earlier, I thought, I hoped, that maybe you felt the same way about me, but that doesn't matter. You deserve somepony better than me, anyway. Somepony who understands that you're special, that will appreciate the wonderful pony you are on the inside and out. Somepony better than an egotistical flygirl with her head in the clouds.”

A long, ghastly moment of silence ensued; for a time, the only sound in the suddenly too-small cottage was their respective laboured breathing. Rainbow Dash chewed nervously on her lip, wishing that Fluttershy would say something, anything, even if it was just to reject her entirely. How would I feel, she couldn't help wondering, if somepony had come on that strongly to me, if they'd been that nakedly vulnerable? If this is what it's like for Fluttershy all the time, so unsure as to what the correct thing to say is, I can see why she prefers the company of animals. Rainbow Dash got the distinct impression that Fluttershy was looking to hide again, either behind her mane or preferably in another room in another house entirely.

When she finally did speak, it was so gingerly that Rainbow Dash had to keep her ears pricked attentively in order to catch everything. “Um, I don't know if you ever suspected it or not, but I've had a crush on you since we were foals.” She squeezed her eyes tightly shut and a took a few calming breaths to steady herself. “I guess, uh, that it was hero worship or something after you fended off those bullies for me. But as I got older … the butterflies I felt in my stomach every time I saw you refused to go away. I thought I was jealous of you at first, your confidence, strength and speed, but it didn't take me too long before I realised that it was something else entirely.”

“No, I never suspected that at all,” said Rainbow Dash, mouth agape, though she was amazed that she could speak at all after the bombshell Fluttershy had just dropped on her. “All this time we've been together, been friends, and you never once mentioned this. That must've sucked. Why didn't you say anything before now?”

“Have you met me?” asked Fluttershy sardonically, waving a hoof fitfully in the air while fending off the ghost of a smile creasing her muzzle. She dabbed at her eyes to wipe away some of the specks forming there. “You're the coolest, bravest pony in all of Equestria. I can barely even speak to ponies that I don't fancy, much less one that I do. Much, much less … well, that pony being you. All these years, I've had to bite my tongue to stop anything from slipping out.” Breathing in, Fluttershy felt lighter than she had done in months. Huh, I guess confession really IS good for the soul. “I just couldn't even conceive of the possibility that you'd be interested in me.”

That soft, lavender scent tickled Rainbow Dash's nostrils again as a few loose strands of Fluttershy's mane brushed against her snout. “Fluttershy, there are a lot of ponies out there that would be interested in you if you would just stop being so darned insecure. But.” She grinned broadly. “It's the fact that you can't see it for yourself that's part of the attraction. You're humble, sweet, brave, smart, loyal, kind and … and, you know, sexy.”

Fluttershy felt her muzzle cycle through every shade of red in the spectrum at that comment. She wanted to laugh at the ridiculous untruthfulness of it. She wanted to cry in happiness at the fact that Rainbow Dash had said it – and apparently meant it sincerely – all the same. “You think I'm s... but why?”

“You'd be hard-pressed to find anypony around here who didn't think so,” Rainbow Dash said, savouring the bewildered look on her friend's face. She looked great in yellow, adorable in red, and doubtless she'd even look amazing with a bit of blue on her. “C'mon, you're not so naïve that you haven't noticed how certain stallions look at you, right? Certain mares, too? Certain awesome pegasus mares?”

Shaking her head, Fluttershy could only look askance at such a notion. “I've never even considered it a possibility, to be perfectly honest with you. I've always figured that, if somepony was looking at me, it was because I'd just made a mistake and they were berating me. Or worse, pitying me.” Opening her eyes, the look she was getting now from her friend … well, she wasn't sure what it was, but it was neither pity nor scorn. It was both frightening and enticing, and she felt the old sense of inadequacy gnawing at her. I don't deserve somepony as perfect as you. “So. Uh, what do we do now that we've admitted our feelings for each other?”

“Now?” said Rainbow Dash, ignoring the thoughts that fought for the limited space contained within her mind; her most primal pegasus urges told her to rush into things with all of her speed and to worry about the consequences later, but through a tremendous effort of will she shunted those yearnings aside. Fluttershy was her oldest, dearest friend. She was special, and she deserved to be treated as such. She shook her head slowly. Too much was going on too soon. They needed time to reflect, to take stock of their feelings, but more importantly they both really, really needed to sleep. “Now we go to bed and we'll see what tomorrow brings, yeah? We go slow, we take things one day at a time.”

“Slow?” Fluttershy asked with a sly grin. “You? Is that word even in your dictionary?”

“For you, I'm willing to learn.”

“Thank you,” Fluttershy said, wrapping her forelegs around Rainbow Dash's neck gently, and pulling her into an intimate yet chaste embrace.

Reciprocating the clinch, Rainbow Dash replied, “For what?”

Planting a small kiss on the end of her friend's nose, Fluttershy said, “For coming out with me tonight, for being so understanding, for telling me how you felt.” She placed her lips against the surprised Rainbow Dash's; it was nothing more than a light peck, but it contained so much promise for more. “Most of all, for being my friend.”

Left slightly breathless by the kiss, Rainbow Dash took a moment to reply. “Same to you. You sleep well, okay?”

“And you. Good night.”

After a lingering hug, neither pony wanting to be the one to break the embrace, Rainbow Dash departed the cottage and took to the skies; all of a sudden, flying back to her mansion overlooking Ponyville seemed like too much of a hassle, so she decided to alight on a cloud situated nice and close to Fluttershy's home. Her mind was abuzz with possibilities and sleep was hard in coming so she settled for watching Fluttershy's shadow flit about the cottage, going about her nocturnal routine until the lights were extinguished.

When, finally, exhaustion overtook her a contented smile was locked onto the face of Rainbow Dash.

II. Speed of Dash

A measly blizzard is all that stands between me and my goal.

While the storm itself is very real, as the anticipatory goosebumps breaking out across my body will attest to, my ambitions are slightly harder to define. Slightly more ethereal, if I can be Twilight Sparkle for a moment. Every moment I lay idle, the further my body temperature drops until it's as good as demanding that I take action.

I hate storms.

No, that isn't entirely true. Actually, the complete opposite is the case: I freaking love storms; I love making them, and I love breaking them.

Even better is when I can safely view them from behind a solid chunk of glass; Celestia willing, with a mug of hot chocolate or a pitcher of Sweet Apple Acres' finest vintage firmly ensconced in my hooves (is it wrong of me to hope that Winona gets ill again so that Fluttershy has an excuse to demand another bottle of it?). Maybe a Daring Do novel, a fluffy pillow, and Tank's soothing company to complete the evening.

But this maelstrom is something completely else: an unnatural storm created by the Everfree Forest, and I am afraid to commit myself to it.

No pony's making me do this; this is a test that I set for myself, and there will be no punishment for failing, or if I choose to quit. Except that I'll be angry with myself, and my own self-recrimination is worse than any sanction anypony else could possibly mete out.

The best fliers are the ones who can deal with anything thrown at them, whether it's an out-of-control Dizzitron, or a little bit of pegasi-induced hail. The best Wonderbolts eat these situations for breakfast. I wouldn't be much of a Wonderbolt, even a reserve Wonderbolt, if I baulked at a little inclement weather, would I?

I'm the pony who makes the weather happen, after all.

Still, this is no ordinary storm, and I would be an idiot if I ignored the knot of tension wrapping around my stomach with a grip that's almost as icy as the frigidness forming a bitter sheath around me. Despite that, sweat is collecting on my brow, and I know that there's no turning back now. For an additional layer of difficulty, the muted blue of the sky is beginning to give way to an inky blackness as Celestia lowers the sun to allow Luna's moon to take dominance of the heavens.

If you were to ask any pegasus to describe their ideal flying conditions, chances are it would be the exact opposite of this: this horrible, relentless torrent that rails against me as I try to push through wave after wave of cascading squall. If I was a more imaginative pony, I would think of the storm as an alive thing; alternately trying to bat me back with claws made of thick jets of rainwater, or freezing me in place with a glacial breath from its exurgent lungs.

Tartarus, for all I know, it is alive and it is trying to eat me.

Lightning crackles, lighting up the sky with a beautiful waxen phosphorescence; my eyes shift slightly, and even I can't help but be awed by the multitudinous forked branches as they interweave and mingle into a brilliant whole. My entire world is made of a glowing, interconnected web of whitish-blue for a moment.

I push my fears aside. Twilight would patiently explain to me, using pie-charts and diagrams, that the electrical discharge travels at the speed of light, and a measly old pegasus only just about hits the sound barrier with a tailwind, but she's forgetting the most important thing:

I move at the speed of DASH!

The gloomy, cloud-filled skies are soon riddled with devastating bolts of silver, each one capable of enormous destruction if mishandled, and I dodge every last sizzling flash as if they are nothing more than so many strands of coloured gossamer fired from Pinkie Pie's party cannon.

My prismatic mane is slick with moisture, matted to my face, and I shake my head from side to side in order to clear the long, multicoloured strands from my field of view; the constant deluge has me dripping, and my body suddenly feels twice as heavy as it should. There's not much I can do about this, unfortunately.

Far more quickly than I expected, my wings begin to ache; they're sensitive at the best of times – they have to be, as one of their many jobs is to provide sensory feedback – and I've never been more aware of how fragile they really are than at this moment, but I ignore the pain and extend the feathery appendages to their maximum length.

This is not foolhardiness on my part; I'm trying to decrease the amount of surface area the wind has to attack me while I glide, and I switch to shorter but more powerful beats in order to maintain my altitude. The pain begins to fade somewhat, but the extra effort I'm having to put into flapping is weakening my muscles.

To add to my problems, I neglected my goggles; no matter how much dirty water I blink away, my vision doesn't quite improve. Fortunately, a pegasus has many other senses to call on – a quirk of evolution or part of our innate flight magic, you'd have to ask Twilight Sparkle about that – otherwise I'd be nothing more than a cyan-coloured smudge on the landscape of Ponyville. There are legends of blind pegasi who could operate just as effectively as their sighted brethren; while I've never met any, I like to think that the stories are true.

Maybe my entire life has been one of trying to recreate the stories of old.

In spite of what you may have heard from some of my contemporaries at flight school, I wasn't asleep the entire time; I was taught that you couldn't always trust your vision, especially with the umbra cast over the land with the disappearance of the sun, and you had to learn to use every ability in your arsenal to its fullest if you wanted to be the best. If you wanted to be a Wonderbolt.

It takes years of patient, painstaking training to unlock your body's full potential, and while I may be ignorant of a lot of subjects, this is what I know.

My exceptional hearing informs me that I'm beginning to hew a bit too close to the tops of the trees near Sweet Apple Acres, as the leaves are rustling ferociously in the howling wind and I can practically feel the greenery swishing, tickling, against my underside; my sense of smell confirms the location by helpfully informing me of the sugary-sweet scent of nearby apples, and my belly is only too happy to confirm this by rumbling loudly; I flick my tongue out to catch a slight taste of cinnamon, and even though it's diluted by the flurry surrounding me, it does at least tell me that an apple pie has been baked in the last hour.

Yeah, information like that can save your life.

As awesome as I am, I know in my heart that I'm not yet good enough for the Wonderbolts; all I am is a bundle of raw, untempered potential that needs seasoning. I'm aware of my flaws, though I'll deny having any if somepony else makes a point of mentioning them to me. I need to learn to reign in my excesses, to strive for greater self-control, but my fear is that by cutting out my aggressive streak I'll also be losing a part of what makes me who I am. No doubt there's a balance to be struck, but I'm not quite there yet.

Something, a new sound, cuts through the constant stirring of the foliage; it seems to be coming from the plains just beyond the orchard, and I execute a swift pivot in order to retrace my flight-plan. I can't quite make it out, being as it's so soft and gentle, but it provokes something within me. The plaintive, muffled sonance brings me down low as I search out its mysteries.

I'm almost hugging the ground now; I dodge the vegetation easily, even though I'm not really paying much attention to it. All my senses are trained downwards, trying to locate the source of the sound that had so affected me. It didn't take too long to spot the problem. I saw my friend.

She was propped-up against a tree.

She was crying.

Sadness. Distress. Powerful enough to be heard through a raging storm if you knew how to listen for it.

The first thing that pops into my head is how much she hates storms. I want to ask her why she's out here in this weather, but I'm still too far away; in fact, I hastily realise that she hasn't even noticed my approach yet. There are only a couple of things that could prompt her to take leave of her cottage in this downpour and I go with the most obvious. “Fluttershy,” I call over the gale, wincing slightly at just how much my voice is cracking with the stress, “who is it?”

At first, I think she hasn't heard me, but her head shifts slightly until her flowing pink mane is covering her face. It doesn't take me too long to figure out that this is her attempt at a response. I follow the slope of her head until I'm staring at her mud-covered hooves; nestled before her is the small, broken form of a white rabbit. “Oh, Celestia,” is all I can say, realising. “I'm so sorry,” I add, approaching her cautiously.

Fluttershy's chest is heaving, a combination of pitiful sobs and strained respiration; she's stiff as a board, too, and I have trouble dislodging her from where she's rooted herself against the sturdy oak.

I want to tell her that sheltering under a tree is just about the worst possible thing you can do when lightning is involved, but she knows that just as well as I do.

Now that I'm closer, I reach out to try and embrace her, to offer her some warmth, but she neither resists nor encourages my efforts. Her mind is still in lock-down mode from grief, and she barely even registers my existence.

I need to get her home. First, though, I hollow out a small hole in the ground near the base of the tree with my forelegs.

Despite having to half-carry/half-drag Fluttershy back to her cottage – I dryly note that she weighs a bit more than her slender frame would suggest – we make pretty good time, though both of us are drenched down to our hollow bones by the time we cross the threshold. I lead her to the couch and she sits/lies, her forelegs folding under her body, still lost in a catatonic state. Her normally radiant blue eyes are vacant and unfocused, and I feel a gnawing sense of anxiety beginning to build within me. “It wasn't your fault,” I try to tell her, but I'm not sure she's even capable of listening just now. Nonetheless, I persist. “Angel got spooked by the storm. You did the best you could.”

The living room is dark and I light some candles to provide us with a bit of illumination; it's eerily quiet, and I conclude that the rest of her menagerie have gone into hiding in their various burrows and bolt-holes to wait out the storm. A million different scents hit me at once; from the overpowering earthy aroma of Fluttershy herself, to the heady mix of odours that you would expect from dozens of different species living in close proximity to each other for extended periods: mud, grime, sweat, food, rubbing alcohol and pheromones.

Fluttershy has seen a lot of death; it goes with the territory, and while it affects her, it's never been quite this bad. I disappear into the kitchen, trying to remember where she keeps the tea, while my thoughts turn to Angel Bunny. He was more than just another critter to her, more than just a pet; they'd been together since that fateful day she'd fallen from Cloudsdale, and I found it incredible that the cantankerous old rabbit had held on as long as he'd had. He was one stubborn little hellion.

When I return a few minutes later, two steaming mugs in hoof, I see that she's still trembling, but it's not from the cold. I place the tea on the table and nudge one invitingly toward her, acutely aware of the fact that I'm entirely the wrong pony for this job. All I can do is offer a drink and an ear, but what she needs is empathy, sensitivity, and all that mushy stuff I'm not capable of giving her.

Maybe that's what ultimately kept us apart. Why we mutually-agreed that getting together would not be good for us.

I leave the room again, this time to fetch a towel; when I reappear, I'm alarmed that Fluttershy hasn't budged an inch, and in fact, I can barely even see her chest rise. I'm genuinely beginning to feel a cold sense of dread in my heart: that she isn't going to move ever again. The chill and the damp are bad enough, but it's the shock of what she's been through in the last few hours that worries me, and I'm wondering whether I ought to call a doctor, or at least Twilight. She always seems to know what to do, thanks to those infernal books of hers.

After clumsily drying Fluttershy off – I can't help noticing how ridiculous her mane looks when it's all frizzy, but the weather-beaten look does kind of suit her – I grope around her small bookshelf to see if there's something on how to deal with traumatised animals.

Well, ponies are animals, too. Right?

“Thank you,” a shaky, timid voice says. I turn to see Fluttershy take the mug of tea in her hooves, forming her muzzle into a pout as she blows on the hot liquid to cool it before taking a sip. “I'm really glad that you're here.”

I breathe a sigh of relief that she's finally snapped-out of her malaise. I abandon my search and sit cross-legged on the floor in front of her. Something about the shape of her lips nags at me, and I discern that it's because they're crinkled into the perfect shape for somepony to plant a kiss on them. “Don't mention it,” I reply, cursing my lecherous thoughts as a tremor of guilt surges through me. I can't help it. It's her.

We talk late into the night; most of the conversation revolves around Angel Bunny, of course, and there are numerous moments where I catch myself zoning-out. It turns out that there is a physical limit to how much one pony can take in about a tetchy rabbit before becoming sick of hearing about them. I happen to glance out of the window and observe that the storm is beginning to abate; somehow, I've managed to keep from saying anything stupid thus far, and Fluttershy has been too wrapped up in her remembrances to pay any attention to how intently I've been staring at her all night long. Or maybe she has noticed and is just too polite to mention it.

I need to get out of here, I realise, and soon. The thought of leaving her alone when she's most vulnerable feels like a dereliction of duty, both as her best friend and as the Element of Loyalty, but at the moment I'm finding that it's impossible to reconcile my desire to protect her with my more prurient interests. My mind is pushing me to a place I dare not go; at least, not now. It wouldn't be right.

It's my upbringing: I'm an animal, a beast of emotion, a creature ruled by its instincts far more than its rationality. It's what makes me great at what I do, but it also brings a lot of hurt with it, too. I learned long ago never to spurn any opportunities that present themselves, as you never know when you'll have the chance again.

The thought of someone taking advantage of Fluttershy turns my stomach; that it could be me shreds my soul in two as my competing natures war with themselves, neither side able to trump the other. I can break a storm, but I cannot break my own worst nature.

Fluttershy seems to sense the battle being fought within me and she says what is, perhaps, the worst possible thing to me at this moment in time. “You don't have to go.” She looks away, letting her mane fall over one side of her face. “Not if you don't want to, that is.”

I swallow, and the gulp seems incredibly loud in the semi-darkness, wondering if she's giving me permission to pursue her. No, she's not like that; she's still confused by grief, and she just wants a pal who'll be there for her. I'm running on auto-pilot, closing the distance to her, all the while making sure my gaze never wavers from hers. Something, some kind of energy – I don't know how else to describe it – passes between us. There's a slight shift in the atmosphere, as if everything has suddenly been coated with a thick layer of treacle and I feel like I'm having to dredge my unwieldy carcass toward Fluttershy from a great distance.

My demure friend doesn't get any closer, but she isn't backing away from my advance either; tentatively, I reach out with my forelegs and all of a sudden Fluttershy forces her body against my own. Her flailing mane tickles my nose as she buries her head in my shoulder, and an outpouring of emotion leaves my coat soaked for the second time that night. The sob lasts for a minute or two before she gets herself back under some semblance of control; she looks at me, or tries to, and I have to brush her hair out of her face in order to see her properly. Her eyes are wide and sad, slick with apprehension and tears; she's that small, awkward filly I first met back in flight school again.

We kiss. More correctly, I kiss her. It's nothing more than a gentle brush of my lips against hers; my mind casts back to the events of the Changeling invasion of Canterlot, and how, when I'd rescued her from a gang of attackers, her muzzle had been perfectly positioned for me to kiss her as I helped her back to her hooves. It had taken a supreme effort of will not to act on my more base impulses that day, too. She stiffens in my arms, and I feel a black mass of panic flow through me; her expressionless face tells me nothing, and I have no idea if she's simply startled by my actions, or if she's revolted by them.

“I'm sorry,” is all I can say, and it sounded so lame and hollow in that moment that, had I not just possibly lost my best friend, I might've laughed.

Fluttershy disentangles herself from my clutches, and all I can do is stare dumbly after her as she disappears into the darkness at the back of the cottage. I hear her hooves thunk on the hard wood of the staircase, and I can just about make out her form as she ascends. My wings quiver desperately, urging me to make my own escape; I'm just about to do so when Fluttershy pauses, halfway up, and primly asks, “Aren't you coming?”

When we reach her bedroom – it is the only area of the cottage that Fluttershy keeps free of occupation by her critters; it's the one place she can be alone, it's her sanctuary – her earlier resolve seems to disappear and she sinks mousily on to the bed, afraid to meet my probing gaze. I sit next to her, affectionately massaging a hoof along the gentle arch of her spine. There's a lot of rigidity in her muscles and my touch, contrary to what I was hoping, only makes her stiffen further. “It's okay,” I tell her. “You've been through a lot.” I'm a little disappointed by this turn of events, but I'm doing my best not to show it; the last thing she needs right now is to think that I'm angry with her for chickening-out on me, when really, I'm just frustrated with myself for thinking that allowing anything to happen under these circumstances in any way constituted a good thing. Truth be told, I'm a little disgusted at myself that I didn't put a stop to this sooner.

My self-loathing dies before it can fully take hold when Fluttershy surprises me by spreading herself across the bed; she isn't deliberately trying to hide anything from me, but her rosy tresses fall over her body, obscuring it from view. The manner in which her still-damp mane is clinging to her shape instils in me the notion of her as a present that I'm meant to unwrap. You can probably guess that I was the type of foal who wanted to tear the gift paper off as soon as possible to get to the prize contained within, but this time, I have a certain responsibility toward my friend and I'm acutely aware of the need to take things slowly.

“This is your first time, isn't it?” I'm not trying to embarrass her or make her feel inadequate; rather, I want her to feel comfortable with me. I want to be as understanding as I possibly can. If you expect your first time to be awful, it probably will be, especially if it's happening with somepony you barely know.

Her body flushes red and she nods, looking away from my earnest scrutiny. She probably thinks that I'm analysing her, searching out her defects, when all I'm doing is drinking her loveliness in like it's that first crisp bite of cider. Fluttershy's legs twitch slightly, and I suspect that she's considering hiding herself away from me, either with the covers or her own limbs, but I smile reassuringly at her and press my hoof softly against her cheek.

I take my time unveiling her form, treating it as a reward in itself; I've always found her attractive, and many's the time when my roving eyes have wandered over her graceful physique, and it's driving me crazy that I can't speed through this like I can and do with so many other things in my life. I try to quell the raging whirlwind that torments my mind; instead, I try to focus on the here-and-now, try to remind myself that Fluttershy's well-being is more important than my fervour.

As gently as I can, I position myself on top of her; her eyes widen slightly at the contact, and another blush tints her cheeks. I allow myself to enjoy her warmth, I inhale her potent scent, and a knowing smirk creases my muzzle when I sense the slight flutter of her wings as they brush involuntarily against my sides. I have my own under rigid control, but poor Fluttershy doesn't have a lot of know-how when it comes to this sort of stimulation.

For the next few moments, I do nothing; I want Fluttershy to get used to my weight, to my presence, and I allow her all the time she needs to come to terms with what is happening. This is so far outside her normal range of experiences that I'm amazed her mind hasn't shut down out of sheer confusion. A look crosses her face as I lean into her, one that is almost questioning, but I'm simply repositioning the solid bulk of my chest to avoid pressing down on her ribcage quite so much. The heat from her body is almost unbearable, and I have no idea what's stopping me from just taking what I want.

“What do I do?” she asks so quietly that even I have trouble hearing it. Her eyes meet mine and I catch sight of the play of emotions at work underneath the surface: there's trepidation, of course, but there's also … expectation. In defiance of her issues and fears, she does want this newfound intimacy between us.

My heart leaps to my throat when I belatedly realise the truth: she doesn't want to disappoint me. She wants to impress me. “D'you trust me?” I reply.

Fluttershy inclines her head, but if the crimson hue of her cheeks is anything to go by, she wants her mane to be concealing her face from my ogling again rather than plastered carelessly underneath her. Slowly, I push her hindlegs apart with my own until our pelvises meet; a gasp escape her lips, and I place an affectionate kiss on her nose. Hesitantly, she brings her lips to mine and I get the impression that some of her nervousness is beginning to lessen; as if to confirm my suspicions, she allows her back legs to open further until we are … joined.

I demand nothing more from her than she is willing to part with; my focus is on making this as memorable, as pleasant, for Fluttershy as I possibly can. When I think of it at all, my only regret regarding my first time is that I wish it had been with somepony who'd cared about me as more than just a piece of meat to be devoured; not that the encounter was entirely a negative one, but I can say with some certainty that it's a lot better when you're in the hooves of somepony who has your best interests at heart.

Our coupling starts off slow; her breathing is becoming a shade more laboured, turning to ragged pants as unfamiliar sensations surge through her body. Her creamy coat is soft and velvety against my rougher pelt, and my nostrils take in their fill of her lavender-suffused essence; it is an unusual fragrance for a pegasus, one borne from her long years of living on the ground and working with animals, and I can't help but find it curious and exciting.

We are no longer rational ponies in this moment; we are wild animals, and my need becomes more primal and urgent. My movements quicken, intensifying as my body appeals for more than than the tiny morsels I've been supplying it with; as my own mind turns inward, focused only on what it wants, I find I've become hardened to Fluttershy's escalating whimpers. By the time I become aware of her again, her entire body has gone rigid and a blood-curdling cry rends the stillness of the bedroom. I want to press my hooves to my ears, but the sound dissipates only seconds later.

She is soaked through with sweat; our fluids mingle while she struggles to regain her breath, and her body trembles weakly after the outpouring of such pent-up emotion. An instinctive desire to protect her overwhelms me; Fluttershy seems so frail, my overriding concern is to keep her safe. I pull the covers around us, keeping my legs entwined around her delicate form. Even with a post-coital glow suffusing her, she can't help but look … angelic. “Are you okay?” I ask. “Did you … was it all right?”

Fluttershy turns to look at me. There are tears in her eyes. This, I wasn't expecting. My hooves wipe away a trickle of wetness, but it's not long before a fresh flood has me realising the futility of my gesture. “Hey, sh, what's all that about?” I dearly hope it isn't something that I've done, that I've hurt her in some way.

“Am I … does this make me a bad pony?” she asks, chewing on her bottom lip softly.

“What? No. Why would you think that?”

“We're supposed to wait, are we not? For our Special Someponies?”

“Am I not special enough for you?” I reply, hoping to use a little levity to shine a light on the encroaching darkness. Fluttershy narrows her eyes at my mock-hurt expression and I quickly cotton-on to the fact that I need to take things a little bit more seriously. Special Someponies. It's a cute story when you're a foal – that there's one perfect being out there who is destined to be with you until the end of time – but that's before the realisation sets in that you're nothing more than a collection of barely-restrained impulses; wants and desires that need to be fulfilled, that crave satisfaction. That's probably a little more than my friend needs to hear right now. “Did you feel good?”

“... yes,” she admits a trifle reluctantly, looking away for a moment. There should be no guilt, no shame, attached to such an act, and it pains me that Fluttershy might actually hate herself for what she did. As if bringing such joy to somepony was something that you should feel guilty about.

“D'you have any regrets?”

“No.” Her voice is firmer. “I've wanted this, to be with you, for such a long time.”

“Then, that's all that matters,” I conclude, touching her nose with the tip of my hoof and making her giggle.

When she drifts off to sleep, her mind and body both totally exhausted by the events of the night, I'm left to ruminate on her words: I've desired Fluttershy for as long as I can remember, and to know that she's had similar feelings is heartening, but … what about tomorrow? Even with all of my razor-sharp senses, I can no more predict the future than Rarity can go an hour without primping her mane.

This closeness – and I don't just mean her warm, invigorating presence snuggled up against my side – this new-found intimacy of ours is not something I can easily give up; her feathery pinions are quavering once more, and I can only imagine the dream that has them in such a state. My ego would like to think that it involves me somehow, but for all I know, she's dreaming about manticores or orthroses.

Or a small, mischievous bunny.

Sleep comes fitfully at best that night; my mind is awash with thoughts of what could go wrong, but Fluttershy's reassuring presence in the bed reminds me that, sometimes, things can go right.

III. Clouded Thoughts

Rainbow Dash's dexterous, swift-moving hooves worked rapidly to make a peep-hole in the fluffy white cloud; once it was large enough, she poked one of her eyes through the gap and sought out her target. Even though she knew it was a physical impossibility for a pegasus to do so, her nerves were in such a shredded state of tension that she feared she might just end up falling through it. That would be embarrassing enough by itself, but the thought of accidentally revealing herself – of crashing right into herflight-path – would be even more ignominious. The repercussions of being discovered surveilling her … well, she dreaded to think what might happen.

Fortunately for her, the cloud that she'd chosen had a nice, marshmallow-y consistency all the way through to the centre of its considerable mass; other than the hole which she'd dug, it was the same as any other, and ought to go unnoticed by all but the most perceptive of eyes. My friends can tease me all they like about my ignorance, but when it comes to weather-phenomena I can bend and shape with the best of them. How to manipulate the minute drops of water that formed clouds was practically Flight School 101. Settling in to a more comfortable position, Rainbow Dash allowed the wispy folds to hug the contours of her body like a gossamer-spun duvet. Even her polychromatic mane and tail were hidden from prying eyes. To all intents and purposes, she wasthe cloud.

As unlikely as it was, though, the fear of being caught did send an enervating tingle throughout Rainbow Dash's body and she fought to stop herself from giggling at the dangerof it all. If she'd learned nothing else from perusing Rarity's romance novels whilst waiting for her to finish hemming her dresses it was that a little giddy thrill was good for the soul. Not quite as exciting as flying, of course, but definitely not without its charms. Being vulnerable, however, was something altogether different for her. It was rather more in tune with the pony that she was watching, in fact.

The show taking place in front of her alert cerise eyes was, to her mind, absolutely worth the concomitant risk.

Maybe it was Rainbow Dash's deeply-ingrained narcissism speaking, but ever since Fluttershy had cut her mane and tail shorter following Angel Bunny's death she looked even more appealing to her; the slick, spiky bangs did a much better job in defining the delicate curves of her face, anyway. On a more practical level, it also helped with her flying: without the constant worry of catching her overgrown tresses on something, she'd learned to cut loose a little. In private, of course.

What she thought was private, that is.

Only another pegasus had the senses required to keep up with the mesmerising trail of pink and yellow blurs as it performed stunts that would make even a hardened Wonderbolt gawp in astonishment. Fluttershy cut a beautiful, graceful figure as she whirled and wheeled and pirouetted, a colourful silhouette in the clear azure sky.

I've always known that you could fly, given the appropriate stimulus, but seeing you actually FLY takes my breath away. Rainbow Dash's mind cast back to the events of the hurricane and their attempts at redirecting the river of water to Cloudsdale; ever since then, she'd redoubled her efforts to force Fluttershy out of her shell, to take some pride in her heritage as a pegasus, but there was so much trauma from the Summer Flight Camp to work through. It had instilled in her an extremely reticent nature and almost a loathing of the act of flying itself.

Though she'd come through the events a hero, it hadn't taken very long at all for her old patterns of behaviour to reassert themselves; inertia, it seemed, was Fluttershy's biggest enemy. Going too long without adequate impetus made her retreat back inside herself until she was that same old doormat.

Rainbow Dash couldn't help but think about the events of a few weeks ago, when it finally seemed that their relationship had reached a turning point following the death of Angel Bunny; despite the night of passion that they'd shared, both of them had ended up feeling a certain amount of guilt in the following days their coupling and they'd quickly reverted to being just friends again.

Seeing that same passion writ large on her face once more – even if it was for slightly different reasons this time – made Rainbow Dash crave her; it was that same look that others had described her as having when she was performing, a heady mixture of focus and playfulness. With the close-cropped hair forming a frame for her features rather than hiding them away as was the norm, Rainbow Dash was left with the impression that she was seeing a creature who was tasting unbridled freedom for the first time in its life.

Once again, the icy grip of guilt gnawed at her, brushing its cold fingers along her spine until she was left shivering inwardly; Fluttershy had been coming out here, far away from the safety of Ponyville, in order that she might be able to practice in relative peace and quiet. She did not want anypony to see her screw-up, even her closest friends. She wanted to be alone, to work out her myriad complicated feelings on her own.

It just so happened that Rainbow Dash had been passing this way doing some flying of her own and had caught her in the act, so to speak; she quickly discovered that Fluttershy had been sneaking out here every free weekend she had to train, and – feeling something of an obligation toward her – Rainbow Dash decided to follow her in order to ensure her safety.

It was partly curiosity and partly fear.

Fear that she might have been meeting somepony else way out here and didn't want anypony to know about it, especially Rainbow Dash.

Not that it was jealousy as such, though she knew that she would have lamented what might have been if Fluttershy did finally end up with somepony else; despite all but admitting their feelings for each other, they hadn't made any formal commitment to be each other's Special Someponies, much as Rainbow Dash didn't believe in the concept. It would've been good for her to spread her wings a bit more – as it were – and gain a little bit more experience. Frankly, unless you counted all those little tea parties of hers, Rainbow Dash was pretty sure that Fluttershy had never been on actual date in her life.

Returning herself to the matter at hoof, Rainbow Dash shook her head free of these stray thoughts and refocused her attention on Fluttershy's elegant aerial ballet; her flight skills had come on leaps and bounds, and she wished that she could be more than a mute, passive witness to her growing confidence. Her biggest fear was that if she did reveal herself to Fluttershy now that it would undo all of her good work. Knowing that she'd been under observation all this time would more than likely make her retreat back inside herself.

You have no need to be so skittish around me, not after everything that we've been through. Even as foals, Rainbow Dash's attempts at kindling a love for the boundless horizons the sky had to offer had been met with blank incomprehension.

What little common sense Rainbow Dash did possess urged her to retreat back to Ponyville before she got herself in too deep, to let Fluttershy have these private moments, but a larger part of her was mesmerised into submission by those glittering beryl eyes, the radiant smile, the flushed cheeks … her gaze swept across Fluttershy's lithe body, taking in the rapidly working muscles, the beads of sweat clinging to her, her chest heaving with the effort and it all conspired to put the most sleazy of images in Rainbow Dash's mind. And that was palpably notsomething that she needed any help with.

She tried to find for herself a sense of shame and failed miserably; Fluttershy was pure and innocent, and didn't deserve to be somepony's sex-fantasy, but, well, they were way past that stage already.

Rainbow Dash's eyes tracked Fluttershy as she reached the apex of her rapid ascent toward the heavens; with a timing that impressed even her, she executed a deft pivot, beginning a steep dive with barely a wasted movement or a feather out of place. Rainbow Dash felt her eyes widen – both in shock and amazement – at just how much Fluttershy had improved lately. To have the stomach to pull off that kind of manoeuvre with so much confidence! That this same pony who had just so expertly turned in mid-air was also the one who had once been nicknamed by her bullies Klutzershywas just too much to believe.

Despite the fact that Fluttershy had already been attending Flight School for a year by the time Rainbow Dash had transferred there, her aura of intense vulnerability had always made her seem so much younger than all the others; young pegasi pretty much defined themselves by how fast or how athletic they were, and Fluttershy was neither of those and so she suffered heartily for it. Rainbow Dash knew that she had more in common with the bullies, and it was that realisation that made her so desperate to stick up for Fluttershy.

She didn't want to be one of them. Speed, prowess, the Wonderbolts, adulation of her peers … what did any of that matter when compared to making somepony happy?

In return, Fluttershy had never once chided Rainbow Dash for her lack of humility or her brashness; she'd supported her, even going so far as to cheer out loudfor her when she could summon up the voice to do so. Fluttershy knew that Rainbow Dash was going to be a great pony some day, and had stuck by her side long enough to become her staunchest ally in the process.

Together, they'd stood against the bullies; and while they didn't always win, they did at least always have each other's backs.

That was until the Sonic Rainboom had changed everything, of course, Rainbow Dash knew; Fluttershy had nearly died when, during the race against the bullies, she was sent tumbling over the side of Cloudsdale when somepony had barged into her. Miraculously, she'd survived, and had decided to move to the ground permanently. Rainbow Dash's skills had earned her a new level of popularity – and, indeed, infamy – and she'd suddenly found herself too busy to visit her closest friend.

Busy having too much fun! That realisation made Rainbow Dash wince.

All of that had changed, though, when Twilight Sparkle had brought the six of them together as the Elements of Harmony; rather than just picking up from where it had left off, Rainbow Dash had actually found her relationship with Fluttershy deepening as she developed a new appreciation for her insights. And gifting her Tank, of course. They spent more time together, not just when dodging dragons and parasprites as chaos reigned around them. She wasn't sure at what point it was that her feelings had deepened from like to love – though she often suspected that it was their near-kiss at the wedding of Twilight Sparkle's brother – but she resolved never to Fluttershy know.

Rainbow Dash knew that Fluttershy should've ended up with somepony who was more like her: somepony gentle, kind, tender and smart. With her head constantly in the clouds, Rainbow Dash knew that she could never give her all of those things that she needed.

And then, that fateful night under the stars had changed everything … Fluttershy had admitted that she'd been harbouring feelings for hersince Flight School almost.

“Rainbow Dash?”

Her introspection was brought to a screeching halt by those two softly-spoken words penetrating the dull haze of her mind; for half a moment, Rainbow Dash's first instinct was to be annoyed at having being discovered, but when she realised that shouldn't have been there in the first place she decided to blush sheepishly instead. Casting her eyes around, she noticed that her cloud had dissipated somewhat allowing her mane and tail to become visible. Her tail, she dryly noted, was swishing around excitedly thanks to Fluttershy's enthusiastic performance. A big, impossible-to-miss prismatic beacon set against the blue sky. “What are you doing here?” asked Fluttershy, as close to outrage as she ever got as her eyes narrowed at her friend's intrusion.

Busted. All Rainbow Dash wanted now was for the cloud that she was lying on to swallow her whole, but of course, that wasn't going to happen. Her heart was racing and her muscles tensed, and she briefly considered just bolting. Flying away solves every problem, after all. Fuelled with adrenaline, her wings prepared themselves for take-off, but she managed to quell them just in time. Those big doe-eyes of Fluttershy's would've made escape impossible, anyway. It wasn't quite a full-on, dragon-halting Stare, but it was just enough to render a fidgety pegasus inert. Rainbow Dash just stared at Fluttershy's eyes for a long time. They were so big and so pretty, she felt herself becoming lost in their arcane depths.

“Um,” was her eventual brilliant response. In the pantheon of witty retorts, it probably wasn't going to last long in the memory. All the blood had long since vacated Rainbow Dash's brain, and certain cruel jibes would have it that she didn't have a lot to spare in there to begin with; all the potential excuses and reasons sounded unusually hollow when she thought about them, and she rapidly came to the conclusion that – just as Applejack would no doubt insist – she would have to tell Fluttershy the truth.

“Were you-” she frowned, her scrunched, confused face entirely too adorable for Rainbow Dash's liking “-have you been spying on me this whole time?”

Swallowing down the lump that had formed in her throat, Rainbow Dash nodded dumbly. “I mean, not the whole time, but … well, for the past few weeks or so, anyway.” She awaited the expected angry outburst.

Looking perplexed, she simply asked, “Why?”

Her look was one of betrayal, tinged with slight embarrassment; Rainbow Dash found herself hypnotised by the slow beat of Fluttershy's wings, moving just enough to keep her in place, to keep her level with her friend as she demanded answers. Her entire demeanour spoke of barely-restrained agitation. She hatesthat was meant as a private retreat, even a form of meditation, had just become a public spectacle. The words were slow to form in Rainbow Dash's mind. Perhaps there just weren't any good ones? Fluttershy's impatience only grew the longer the silence kept up between them. “I just … liked watching you, I guess,” Rainbow Dash said lamely. Oh, great, that totally doesn't make me sound like a creepy psycho-stalker. “Uh, what I mean to say is, I've really enjoyed watching just how much your flying has improved these past few weeks.”

“Oh,” she replied. Despite her anger, her cheeks flushed thanks to the compliment.

“Uh, I know I have no business saying this to you right now, but I'm really proud of you, Fluttershy. I've always known what a great flier you could be, and it makes me so happy to finally see you living up to your potential.”

Looking away shyly, Fluttershy said, “You, uh, you really mean that? I'm, er, I've gotten that good?”

With a vigorous nod of her head, Rainbow Dash excitedly said, “Totally! You're even better than I ever imagined you could possibly be! That mid-air pivot toward the end was just amazing!”

It was one thing to receive a compliment, but it coming from Rainbow Dash – a pony that she'd respected and admired for almost her entire life – was something even more special. She was not nearly this fulsome in her praise, and knowing that she meant every word of it set Fluttershy's heart aflame with delight.

“It's so great to see you becoming this confident in your abilities.” Rainbow Dash took Fluttershy's hooves in her own.

“I-” Fluttershy couldn't meet her friend's penetrating gaze; she chewed on her bottom lip thoughtfully, wishing that the words she wanted – needed – to say would come easier to her.

“What is it?” asked Rainbow Dash as tenderly as she could. Once again, she was awe-struck by just how beautiful Fluttershy was; it had nothing to do with the clipped mane or the structure of her face, but it was simply a function of who she was: she was the epitome of natural grace. Her growing sense of assertiveness and desire to push herself had only served to make her even more attractive. Idly, Rainbow Dash wondered if their respective heartbeats could be heard on the other side of Equestria right now. The heady scent of Fluttershy's coat pricked at her nostrils and she inhaled it deeply, wishing that she could devour more than just her aroma right now.

“It was Rarity who gave me the idea,” Fluttershy said by way of explanation.

“Rarity?”

“She thought … we spoke a while back, just after our, ah, first night together-” she turned a fetching shade of crimson as the pleasant memories of their union came unbidden to the forefront of her mind “-and it was her suggestion that I go about improving my flying in order to, um, wooyou.”

“To woo me?” Rainbow Dash said, trying her hardest not to giggle at the choice of words. That was Rarity talking, all right.

Fluttershy nodded. “We, um, she thought that you'd only be happy with somepony who was able to keep up with you. So I've been coming here every chance I've had to try and improve my abilities.”

In her wildest imaginings, she could not have pictured Fluttershy saying something like that to her. “You don't have to proveanything to me, I hope you know that,” said Rainbow Dash, closing the distance between them until their chests were practically touching. She shook her head, picturing everything that her friend had done on her account, just to prove herself, just to … once again, just to impressher. Fluttershy's dedication put her own to shame, it seemed. “You're already perfect just the way you are. My perfect Fluttershy. I wouldn't change a single thing about you-” now that she was close enough to do so, Rainbow Dash snaked her forelegs around Fluttershy's waist and pulled her in close “-I like you. A lot.” It was only in that final moment of naked admittance did Rainbow Dash's confidence finally fail her and she croaked the words out, her typical vocal crackling becoming much, much more pronounced in the process. Beads of sweat prickled her brow as she awaited Fluttershy's response. One way or another, this is it.

A small kiss was planted on the end of Rainbow Dash's nose. Beaming brightly, Fluttershy said, “I like you a lot, too.”

Rainbow Dash uttered a huge sigh of relief and she planted an intense kiss on Fluttershy's lips; when they broke it after a moment for air, they were still connected by a filmy trail of saliva. With a suggestive grin, Fluttershy placed the tip of her hoof on Rainbow Dash's chin and said said, “Now … I think that you need to give me some more lessons, Rainbow Dash.”

Nodding with a silly grin affixed to her muzzle once she'd parsed the meaning of Fluttershy's words, Rainbow Dash replied, “It would be my very great honour.”