Taken by Surprise

by SaddlesoapOpera

Rating: everyone
Tags: Spitfire, Original Character, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Soarin, Other, Romance, Fleetfoot, Slice of Life
Length: 6390

The sky’s the limit for the Wonderbolts. What happens when a Wonderbolt wants more than the sky?

Several years have passed. Soarin has achieved fame and success as a Captain of the Wonderbolts. It’s a rank he’s held for a long time. Maybe too long. As the realities of the future ahead of him weigh on his mind, he discovers that he isn’t the only Wonderbolt thinking about what comes next.

Third Place Winner, Mana's Wonderful Wonderbolts Writing Contest

Published 2018-02-06 20:30:07 UTC
Last updated 2018-02-06 20:30:07 UTC

Unready

Soarin came to a landing on the only cloud in sight and pushed his flight goggles up on his brow. The view, as always, was pristine. Rolling emerald hills sat etched in vivid relief by the lengthening shadows of the late afternoon. The slowly setting sun shone hot on his dark mane and warm on his jumpsuit-clad back after the day’s workout. The moment stretched, drawing his slow, satisfied sigh out to join the gentle westerly breeze.

And then the cloud exploded.

“SURPRISE!”

Soarin tumbled off the edge and into spiralling freefall. The splendour below reeled and whirled until he braked with his wings and shot back upward with three quick beats.

His chalk-white comrade was waiting on what remained of his landing spot, her flight suit and blonde mane damp with cloudstuff and her lilac eyes bright with mischief. “Heya, Clipper!” she chirped. “Gotcha good, huh?” She giggled.

Soarin frowned, but his scowl soon broke into rueful chuckles. That mare’s simmering energy was infectious. “Heh. Yeah, Surprise. You got me. Again.”

She reclined on the ruined cloud and flicked her tail. “Yeah, it’s pretty much an art, sneaking up on fellow ‘Bolts. Nopony counts by threes like us.”

At the mere mention, Soarin’s head and eyes moved to perform the clock-face sweep. Checking his three o’clock, his six, nine, and back to twelve. Ever since he earned his nickname, he’d tried to keep up the habit.

“Well, anyway,” Soarin said as he awkwardly perched on a stray puff of cloud, “what’s goin’ on? What were you doing hiding in there?”

Surprise grinned. “Waiting for you.”

He smirked and chucked her shoulder. “C’mon!”

She slid a little closer to him on her larger patch of cloud and lowered her voice. “Maybe I wanted to see how heavy you are.”

“You, uh … you what?” A blush warmed the bridge of Soarin’s nose.

She leaned closer still. “Uh-huh. ‘Cause, you know…” Closer and closer. Soarin felt her warm breath tickle his face. All at once she drew back, and her eyelids and voice raised again. “... I wanted to see if you pass weight for your promotion eval!” She giggled again.

Soarin let out his breath and rolled his eyes. “Uhgh, don’t be shocked if I don’t, actually. General Coriolis is, like, a huge …” He counted by threes. “ … stickler about regulations. She’s totally merciless. One button outta place during formal dressage, one slip during skills tests, and she dumps you to the end of the line.”

Surprise slowly nodded. “Uh, she’s a toughie, yeah. But I bet you can do it! I mean, lookit me! I nab one more bump and we’ll be the same rank, Captain. Better order me around while you can!” She saluted with a smile.

“Ha ha. At ease.” He spread his wings and hovered as his little cloud-lump finally broke apart. “Okay, I better head back to wash off and put on a fresh flight suit. Don’t wanna give the General an excuse by being late!” He turned and took flight.

“Yeah, okay,” Surprise said to his back. “I’ll … I’ll see you around.”

Once Soarin was a dot on the horizon, Surprise kicked the broken cloud to bits and flew off with a heavy sigh.

The General’s angular shadow stretched out across the lofty mesa that was home to the Wonderbolts HQ. Her eyes stayed cold sky-blue as the dusk turned the horizon golden, and her charcoal-grey mane was a saw-blade silhouette with the backlighting. Every piece of her uniform was proper and pressed or polished. Museum-ready.

She spoke the instant Soarin came back into view in the distance. “Captain Soarin, front and centre.” She made no particular effort to be heard over the whistle of the wind.

“Ma’am!” Soarin responded immediately. He banked away from the track and surged forward for a landing two paces in front of the mare. He stiffened and offered his best salute, pushing up his goggles at the same time.

Coriolis responded with a half-effort flick at her brow. “At ease.” She picked up a clipboard of detailed notes, which ensured that Soarin was anything but at ease. “Captain, I see this is our third time having this conversation, now.” She looked up from the notes to pierce him with her stare. “You don't give up easily, do you?”

Soarin swallowed hard. “Wonderbolts never give up, Ma’am.”

She sniffed derisively. “That’s true. But they also have the common sense to tell the difference between difficult and impossible.”

“Permission to speak freely, ma’am?” Soarin’s eyes narrowed.

Coriolis went back to looking at her notes. “Granted.”

“We aren’t even having this talk in your office. You made up your mind before the tests started. Didn’t you?”

She stabbed him with her gaze again. “What are you insinuating, Captain?”

“You’ve got a copy of my files right in front of you. You know what I’ve done. What I can do. So, why? Why do you keep blocking me?” He realized his voice and wings were raised; he lowered both. “... Ma’am.”

The General set down the clipboard and shook out her wings. She took a slow, deep breath before speaking. “Yes, I do see what you can do. And what you can’t do. You want to know why I won’t make you a Colonel? It’s because you don’t DESERVE it.” She stepped closer, hoofsteps clicking on the paved track, and stared him down. “There’s more to being a real leader than goofing around at the Grand Galloping Gala and signing autographs for foals. Your flight skills are excellent, you make a well-liked squadron leader and you react quickly in a crisis. None of that makes you qualified to help shape the future of this organization and its reputation. You do fine work in the field — you’re staying where you belong.” She turned away from him. “Dismissed.”

Soarin gritted his teeth and stayed silent until he could speak without shouting. “Ma’am. Yes, ma’am.” His salute, and then his takeoff, sliced the air like a blade.

The officers’ mess was well populated for a weekday, with the balmy late-summer weather stirring up more interest than usual in cold cider and warm togetherness. Pegasi in duty uniforms, bodysuits, or nothing but goggles chatted and laughed and toasted in twos and threes, but Soarin sat alone, perched on a stool at the bar with his black tie loose and his eyes locked on the frothy reflection in his mug.

He only noticed the new arrival next to him when she spoke up.

“That Ponyville stuff smells great, but I hear it works quicker if you drink it.”

Soarin’s ear twitched. “Colonel.”

Spitfire was as primly uniformed as Coriolis, but where the General made it seem cold and aloof, the Colonel was simply an exemplar of everything a Wonderbolt aspired to be. She couldn’t help it. Might as well ask Fleetfoot to ease up on a straightaway.

She touched a wing to his upper back. “Turned down again, huh?” The bartender delivered her a glass of rainwater chilled with hailstones. With an early duty rotation the next morning, Spitfire wasn’t drinking. She gave the mare a nod of thanks and tipped her five bits.

Soarin took a long pull from his mug. Earth Ponies could be slow and stubborn and belligerent, but they made damn fine cider. He let out an apple-scented sigh. “Yeah, it’s not happening. It’s not GONNA happen. She’ll never approve it. She hates my guts.”

His comrade’s eyes darted aside for a moment. “She doesn’t hate you.”

“Oh, come on, Spits! You can’t even look me in the eye when you say that!”

Spitfire sighed this time. “You can’t let her get to you like this. This isn’t you.”

He bashed the bar with a front hoof. “Yeah? What IS like me? Goofin’ around? Chasing pies?” His wings sprang wide. He tilted back and forth, lolled his head and rolled his eyes while putting on a clownish exaggeration of his coastal accent. “Hay dudes! It’s like, totally me, Soarin! The funny one! Woops, looks like the Wonderbolts only recruited me as a joke! Hurr hurr hurrrr!”

The display turned heads; Spitfire smoothly took to the air and helped ease him back down to his stool. “Okay, Clipper. Easy does it. You won’t make Colonel any quicker if you end up in the stockade.”

Soarin settled down and drooped until his forehead pressed against the rounded edge of the bar. “What am I doing, Spits?”

“You’re getting promoted.” She said it with flat confidence, like a statement about the weather or the time of day. “Next time for sure.”

He sat up again. “Dunno if I believe that, but thanks.” He picked up his mug and held it forth. “Next time.”

“Next time.” She clinked her glass on his mug.

The bartender went to open a window to let in the cool evening breeze. As soon as the way was clear a yellow and blue blur rocketed through the hole and sent her tumbling.

“WOO-HOO!”

Bar napkins and toothpicks and coasters swirled in indoor dust devils from the wind-shock of Surprise’s sudden arrival and even more sudden stop. She stood on the bar between the two officers. “Oh my stars! Soarin! Spitfire!” She squealed and bounced in place. The other Pegasi further down the bar picked up their glasses and mugs to keep them from spilling.

Spitfire chuckled. “Gee, let me guess, Surprise — you got some good news?”

Surprise squealed at an ear-splitting pitch and volume. “I made it! I finally made it! I got the promotion!”

“Good for you,” Spitfire said with a warm smile. “We could use some positivity right now.”

The pale mare leaped off the bar and turned on her hooves to face the pair. Her painfully wide grin faded a little. “Aww, Clipper. I guess you, ah, I mean she didn’t …” Surprise stirred a hoof in a circle.

“Still a Captain,” Soarin said. “Third time’s not always the charm, I guess.” He drained his mug.

Surprise sighed and sagged, like a dirigible deflating, but her boundless energy soon resurged. She perked up and locked her gleaming gaze on the stallion. “Well, then we’ve got even more reason to celebrate with me, doncha think?”

“How do you possibly figure that?” Soarin gave the empty to the bartender, whose purple mane was still mussed from the shocking arrival earlier.

Surprise leaned to and fro as she replied. “Well-ll-ll … you aren’t gonna celebrate NOT getting promoted, so you’ve got nothing else planned. And the best time to do something fun is when you need cheering up, isn’t it? It’s like the Colonel said — you need some positivity! So, let’s go cheer you up!” She lunged and spread her wings, snatching Soarin out of his stool like an owl seizing a field mouse.

Soarin wriggled in her warm and surprisingly strong grip. He’d heard that she had some Earth Pony ancestry somewhere in her lineage, and he believed it. “Wh-What? Go? Go where?”

She giggled coyly. “It’s a surprise.”

Soarin gave a pleading look Spitfire’s way, but the Colonel just smiled and nodded. “Bring him back in one piece, Captain.”

“Will do, Ma’am! WOO-HOO!” She took off like a shot, hurling herself and Soarin back out the open window with hairsbreadth clearance on every side.

By the time Soarin squirmed out of the hold and took flight next to Surprise, they were past stratocumulus height and still climbing. Wind roared around them. He tapped his right ear, and a small gemstone trinket’s communication enchantment crackled to life. He waved at Surprise and gestured at her ear, and she likewise awoke her trinket. “Check-check? Where are we going?” he asked.

“Loud and clear! And I already told you!” Surprise’s chirping voice was thin and tinny coming through the little jewel. She looked up and ahead once more, and poured on the speed.

Soarin pumped his wings and followed. If nothing else, the workout helped take his mind off his troubles.

They climbed and climbed, past the anvil-top peak of a column-like cumulonimbus, up to where the only clouds were ragged, barely tended streaks and ribbons. Surprise alighted on one of those thin, wavering sheets, and patted the flimsy surface next to her.

Soarin cautiously came in for a landing; the thin, spongy cloud made his unsteady perch earlier that day feel as sturdy as the Cloudaseum. “Okay, so, what are we up here for?” He suppressed a shiver. Surprise had a flight suit, but his duty uniform did little to fight off the chill.

“Just look,” she said. “Any minute.” She sidled up closer to him, and draped her wing across his back. She focused on the vast view below them. Even Canterlot Mountain looked tiny at that altitude, and the evening’s long shadows had pooled together.

While Soarin watched, the Princesses finished the evening’s work. The sun vanished below one horizon, and a rich, hearty harvest moon peeked up across from it. The last shreds of daylight still drowned out the stars, leaving the sky a smooth dark blue. Soarin tried to look at it, but Surprise pushed his head down again with a hoof.

Little by little, the shadowed land lit up. Sparkling expanses of cities and meek little clusters of towns, dotting the dimness with countless points of light.

“Everything’s upside down,” Surprise whispered. “Sky’s a deep blue ocean. All the stars are on the ground.” She hugged him with her wing and pressed against his side. “It’s b-beautiful, huh?”

“Yeah …” Soarin turned to look at her. “Surprise? Are you … crying?” He gently dabbed a tear off her cheek with a hoof. “All this time, I dunno if I’ve ever seen you–”

Surprise sniffled and softly chuckled. “I’m just so ... so relieved. I’ve never brought anypony up to see this with me. Upside down world was my special place. I was saving it.”

“Saving it for what?”

She leaned to nuzzle against his neck, and stroked his wings with hers. “For you, silly.”

Maybe Soarin really was a goof. Only then did years of playful pranks, close talking, and joking flirtation crystallize. All those years, always seeing her smile when she looked his way. “That’s why you’ve been pushing so hard to catch up to my rank. You like me.”

Surprise giggled, nodding as she nuzzled. “I like you.” She drew back to meet his eyes. “Do … do you like me?”

With the shock of realization, several ciders, and thin atmosphere all rattling his brain, Soarin found himself disarmed by the simple question. He looked at Surprise. Took her in the way he’d taken in her special, secret view. Her dawn-bright mane and cloud-white hide. Those wide purple eyes, so eager to pick magic out of mundanity. Her fogging breath, sweet from her madly high-calorie diet. And that boundless, effortless lust for life that kept her gleeful while facing disasters and dragons.

“Y’know what?” he said. “I think I do!”

She tackled him with an ecstatic squeal. The cirrostratus carpet bulged down ominously under their weight. He hugged her, feeling her warmth. Her brightness.

The cloud burst and they fell. At their altitude, though, it would take minutes for it to become risky. They had time. He held her tighter and let the howling wind take his peaceful sigh as they streaked toward upside down world’s starry sky of city lights below. It was dark now, but maybe there was still some sunshine left.

Surprise spread a second layer of red currant jelly onto her already heaping slice of bread. The sticky mess shone like a cache of gemstones in the daylight. She dropped the knife back into the open jar to clear her mouth for speaking.

“What, really? She just, like, showed up?” She picked up the bread and its precariously wobbling jelly pile and devoured it in one slurping bite. Somehow, despite being out of uniform, she didn’t spill a drop on her pristine hide.

Soarin nodded. He swallowed a smaller bite of his own somewhat less overloaded sandwich. “Yeah! I think she might have washed out of the Academy way back in the day, but she definitely wasn’t a reservist. She was just … there … when we rallied. It’s fine that she was, though. I remember racing against her when I was a colt. I’d never seen anypony so fast. She even beat Fleetfoot! If it wasn’t for her vision problems, she’d probably have my job by now!” He laughed and rubbed the back of his neck with a hoof.

Surprise looked out at the bucolic splendor of Ponyville below; from the height of their cloud picnic spot, the obsidian trenches left over from Princess Twilight Sparkle’s battle with the demon king from Tartarus looked like ink scratches on a map.

“Don’t sell yourself short, Clipper,” she said without turning his way. “You were there with her. You, Spits, Flatfoot and a bunch of green recruits, against a magic-eating monster. That’s pretty brave…”

Soarin joined her at the edge of the cloud and looked down as well. “I guess. It’s just what we do though, right? Like, Crash saved my life before she even applied to the Academy!”

Surprise stifled a giggle. “Right, when a dressmaker freaked out in freefall and knocked you out cold.” She offered a wry smirk. “Okay, maybe sell yourself a LITTLE short!” She nudged him and giggled louder.

The sound pulled a laugh from Soarin as well. He mussed her unruly mane with a wing. “Hay…! That mare kicks pretty hard, okay? My jaw clicked for a week!”

Surprise got her giggles under control with no small effort. She turned to face him. “You know, Captain’s a pretty good rank. I’m really happy with it.” Her eyes darted aside for a moment. “And who knows if the General will ever change her mind? Right now, though, you’re here, I’m here — maybe you should just … take a moment?”

Soarin frowned. “You think I should give up? Seriously?”

Her blush showed vividly on her white face. “N-No! Not like that! I just mean, this wouldn’t have happened any other way. And we both haven’t had a special somepony in our lives ever since joining up. You don’t have to stop reaching …” She reared up and strained to stretch her front legs way up high. “ … but appreciating what you’ve got is important, too. So, maybe just take a minute to rest your legs and enjoy the view?” She sat back down with a smile. “It’s a pretty nice one, isn’t it?”

Soarin looked down at the landscape, and then back at the amethyst eyes locked on his. Back at that bright, irresistible smile. “Yeah …” he said as he smiled back. “It is.”

The next morning, Soarin cut two full seconds off his lap time during his morning workout. His grin was so wide that the wind half choked him when he hit a new top speed.

A day later, Fleetfoot threw a bar of soap at his head when he wouldn’t stop singing in the shower room.

A day after that, he cheerfully bobbed his head to a tune nopony else heard while he held back a trainee’s mane as she heaved into a bucket after a failed spin on the Dizzytron.

Two days more, and he tensely trotted in place on a cloud until he caught a distant flash of golden mane and let out a shrill whistle to catch Surprise’s notice. She glided down to him and bounced up off his cloud without stopping. He leaped into the air and joined her on a wide, leisurely tour around Wonderbolts HQ airspace.

They climbed and dived, banked and arced, flying for the love of flight with no crisis to meet and no time to beat, chatting about everything and nothing.

“... But it had been INSIDE the pineapple the whole time!” Surprise giggled her carefree, contagious giggle. “As soon as the top came off, it jumped right out!”

Soarin joined in on her giggling. “Well, I guess that’s one way to impress a Princess!” He craned his neck to nuzzle against hers. She nuzzled back so their warm cheeks touched until they had to part to correct their flight paths.

They flew a lazy spiral around the Academy mesa, and then trotted to a stop on the grassy field near the runway. Surprise lifted her goggles and turned to face him. “Hay, uh, I wanted to celebrate us having such a great time together. So, I … I got you something.”

Soarin pushed up his goggles as well. “Yeah? Awesome! What is it?”

She let out that lovely giggle again. “You know how this works by now!” She briefly covered her eyes with her wings and wiggled her eyebrows.

“Ha ha, okay, okay. I gotcha. It’s a surprise.” Soarin closed his eyes. “So, is it right here, or do we–”

She kissed him.

Soarin’s eyes snapped wide, but then slowly closed again as she embraced him, legs and wings, and they fell to the emerald lawn.

Fifty yards above, Spitfire smiled and nodded in approval.

Next to her, Fleetfoot grimaced. “Uhhgh. Like they weren’t insufferable before.”

Spitfire chuckled. “It’ll be good for him. For both of them.”

“Uh huh. Sure.” Fleetfoot rolled her eyes, but her scowl was softening.

Unsteady

Bright and early the next day, Soarin ran the tightest, most brisk and efficient introduction to evasive flight he ever had. Driven by excitement about the next chance to spend time with his new special somepony, the Captain whirled around obstacles and dodged hazards with textbook grace and precision. He streaked back to the waiting group of trainees and panted to catch his breath.

“And that’s all there is to it!” he said cheerfully. “Any questions?”

“Um, can we maybe see that again?” a lime-green mare asked with a cautious raise of a hoof. “But, like, about HALF as fast?” The rest of the group murmured in agreement.

Soarin rubbed the back of his neck with a hoof. “Oh! Heh heh, guess that was a little hard to follow, huh? Maybe I rushed it a bit. All right, lemme give this another try for you.” He arced around to the starting position and took off again, this time at a smooth, leisurely pace.

With the relaxation of slower flight, Soarin’s mind began to wander. He saw Surprise’s smiling face in the shapes of clouds. He heard her lilting giggle on the wind. How had he gone so many years working so close to her without ever noticing how vibrant, how joyful, how in love with life that bouncy blonde beauty was? If only he’d–

His right wing clipped an obstacle pole and he lurched into a spin. At low speed it shouldn’t have been a problem, but before he could correct his yaw the rotation smashed the side of his head into the edge of a wind generator on the obstacle layer below. Soarin heard the distant sound of cracking glass, and then a high-pitched ringing in his ears. White-hot sparkles danced across his vision.

He landed heavily on a cloud still further below, and by the time he got his bearings the trainees surrounded him. He waved off helping hooves and got up with only a little bit of wobbling.

“Oof, w-well, I guess that makes a good lesson, too — no matter how easygoing the situation is, something can always potentially go wrong!” He chuckled and then gingerly touched the darkening bruise on his head with a wing. “Tell you what … while I clear my head, let’s talk about something a lot of civilians don’t even know about: Wonderbolt nicknames! For example, does anypony have a guess about why they call me Clipper?”

This time, the whole group raised a hoof.

After the lesson, Soarin took a slow, cautious flight to check his coordination. He could glide straight, and shifts of altitude didn’t make him dizzy; it seemed he’d escaped any serious harm from the impact. He arced around to aim for an open landing field near the Academy proper, but as he got within twenty yards a piercing whine of feedback made him brake to a hover and slap a hoof to his ear.

“Ow! Shoot, comm musta broken in the crash!” He tilted his head and tapped it to try and dislodge the damaged trinket. The motion changed the timbre of the noise, and all at once it crackled and quieted and he heard Surprise’s voice — watery and warbling as if echoing from down a well.

“ … means to me, Ma’am. I won’t let you down!”

“I wouldn’t have approved you if I thought you would.” Although the General’s sharp voice had sliced through the distortion, it took Soarin a moment to recognize her because of her tone: Warm and gentle.

“Thank you, Ma’am. I guess I’m still just a little shaken because I cut it so close on the evaluations.” Surprise chuckled anxiously.

Soarin raised an eyebrow. He stayed silent and drifted closer to the Academy building with a few noiseless flaps. The voices became a little clearer.

“You cut it more than close,” Coriolis said with a smirk. “To be honest, though, those evaluations are really more like … guidelines. There’s more to promotions than numbers. The Wonderbolts represent the best of the best among Pegasi. In many ways, we’re the public face of the entire tribe. Ponykind is united under the Princess — ah, Princesses. They set the standard. We need leaders like them — mares like them — in charge. We need to promote the right kind of Pegasi. Do you understand?”

“Yes, Ma’am,” Surprise said gravely. “I understand.”

Soarin dropped down to alight on the building’s front walk. He staggered and flapped to stay on his hooves. “Can’t be …” His breath came in shallow gasps. “Just can’t …” He tilted and shook his head, and the hissing, cracked gem finally fell to the ground. His hoof dropped with the corners of his mouth; the impact crushed the ruined jewel.

A few moments later, Surprise came trotting out in a crisp duty uniform fitted with brand new Captain’s bars. She perked up on sight of him.

“Oh…! Hay, there! How’s it going? I’ve got the evening open — you wanna go grab a hayburger?” She smiled her perfect, pearly smile.

Soarin shook out his wings. “I don’t think so.”

She stepped closer to him. “Is everything okay? You look upset. Are–” He jerked aside and turned away when she tried to nuzzle his neck. Her brows furrowed. “What is it? What happened?”

“I …” He kept his back turned. “I don’t think this is working out.”

Surprise’s ears and tail drooped. “What…? How can you say that?” Her eyes shone as she sniffled. “Wh-Why?”

A quiver ran through him. He finally turned to face her with a steely glare. “Maybe I’m just not the right kind of Pegasus for you.”

The mare’s eyes went saucer-wide. She touched her ear, still fitted with the trinket. “You … you were listening?”

“I was listening.” He scowled. “Were you EVER planning on telling me how the General feels about me? Heck, about ALL stallions? About how she was putting me through a hurricane while you got clear skies?” His eyes narrowed.

Tears wet her cheeks. “No … Soarin, no! It’s not like that!” She pressed forward. He drew back. “I didn’t know! Nopony knew! We almost never talk about evaluations!” She choked on a sob. “I d-didn’t realize until last week!”

“Last week? This whole fun time we’ve been having, you mean? And just now, while you two were laughing it up? Guess it makes sense to sit back and ‘take a moment,’ when you can get promoted at the drop of a feather!”

“Soarin, please ...” Her bottom lip quivered.

He paused for just a moment, but then his scowl deepened and he nudged past her to enter the headquarters.

Surprise turned and reached out a hoof after him. “Wait! Where are you going?”

Soarin’s ears pinned back. “I’m going to go give Coriolis what she’s wanted from me all along.”

The door closed behind Soarin, cutting off the caress of the summer breeze and the sound of Surprise’s sobs.

Spitfire hissed in a breath as she eased down and back into a metal tub full of equal parts water and ice cubes. She let it out little by little as her tension eased. When she spoke, she kept her eyes on the ceiling.

“He didn’t say anything to you?”

Nearby, Fleetfoot’s blue hide shone with sweat as she stood in a locked stance with weights piled on her outstretched wings. She breathed in quick, shallow puffs, and it took several to get enough air to answer.

“Nngh … nope. You?” She lifted both left legs and balanced on her rights.

Spitfire shook her head. “The General turned him down three times — maybe he’d finally had enough?” She slipped lower for a moment, until only her nose and mouth poked up from the frigid surface, and then rose up again, shivering.

Fleetfoot switched pairs of legs and kept balancing. The weights wobbled slightly. “Yeah. Not like he set any Academy records, boss. Some Ponies peak early. Whatcha gonna do?” She took a few more breaths, and then lifted all four legs to hover for a moment on Pegasus magic alone.

“He was fine yesterday,” Spitfire mused. “He worried me, in the mess last week. But then Surprise made her move, and it all seemed …” She flexed her wings under the water. “If something happened, why didn’t he come to me?”

Sweat beaded on Fleetfoot’s forehead. She dropped back down to all fours and then carefully set the weights down on a bench. “Don’t lose any sleep over it,” she said as she shook out her wings and rolled her neck. “Lots of Ponies tap out of the ‘Bolts. Happens all the time. Even to a Colonel’s wingpony.” She nodded at the row of lockers. “I’m gonna suit up and do some laps while I’m still warm. You wanna go to Pinion’s later? Grab some drinks?” She raised an eyebrow. “ … Get in a brawl?”

“Maybe another time.” Spitfire submerged again, and heaved a sputtering sigh.

Fleetfoot shrugged. “Suit yourself, boss.”

Soarin wiped his face against the raincloud, trading hot sweat for cooler mist. He leaned to one side and peered down at the red stallion staring up at him. “That good, Mac?”

Big Macintosh hoofed at the rain-damp soil and then nodded. “Eeyup. Thanks.”

“No problem. Just doing my job.” He shook condensation off his wings. The grey-green coveralls he wore weren’t as sleek and form-fitting as a flight suit, but they were still treated to keep him dry. Soarin realized the hefty Earth Pony was still looking up at him. “ … Something else need watering?”

Mac shook his head. “Eenope. Just didn’t expect you to be covering for Rainbow Dash now that she’s spendin’ more time with you an’ yours.”

“They’re not my … I’m actually …” He sighed. “Point is, you’ll get used to it. I’m not going anywhere.” He looked up at the boundless blue sky and the blazing golden sun. “Not anywhere.”

His customer shrugged. “Fair ‘nuff. Granny’s bakin’ pies day after next. There’ll be one set aside for ya.”

Soarin nodded. “Thanks.” He pulled back to grip the cloud and then moved on with a few casual wingbeats. The rest of the work day passed calmly and predictably. Bust clouds or bring clouds. Stir gusts for a sailing race, quiet breezes for an outdoor wedding. He could have done it all in his sleep. Sometimes, it felt like he did.

It was another two days before Soarin’s regular meetup with Spitfire at Pinion’s, and the awkward conversation that would ensue if she even still showed up. In the meantime, he needed dinner.

He landed near Ponyville’s town square and trotted through the crowds going about their simple daily business. The gravel still felt odd under his unshod hooves. He soon came to his bistro of choice and took a seat on a miniature haystack at an outdoor table. Within moments a menu slipped onto his table, offered by a server behind him. He glanced down at the same seven appetizers, six entrees, and four desserts he’d seen last time.

“See anything you like…?”

Soarin turned so suddenly in his seat that his spreading wings knocked the glass of water off his table. “What are you doing here?”

“Uh, s-surprise?” She was in full server’s uniform, with her wind-mussed mane smoothly brushed back. She hovered before him with her head low and her eyes bouncing between avoiding eye-contact and helplessly stealing glances his way.

“Not funny.” He frowned.

Surprise alighted and folded her wings. “Not a joke.”

“What do you mean? You’re … you really …?” His eyebrows raised. “Did you resign, too?”

She nodded. “I barely graduated from the Academy. I was never going to be the next Firefly. Or even the next Spitfire!” She chuckled weakly. “I stayed because of you. Chasing you kept me going. I don’t want fame and glory. I don’t want to leave my name on the Wall. I just want you.”

Soarin’s ears drooped. “Surprise …”

Her eyes shone. “I’m so sorry, Soarin. The evaluations came, and I was so close, finally. But then you told me how it went, and I realized what the General had been doing. And I … I messed up.” She hung her head. “But now I did my best to fix things. I picked you over the Wonderbolts, and even if you don’t want to be with me that’s still true. I don’t want the sky, if I can’t fly it w-with you!” She shuddered and hid behind her wings to sob.

Soarin drew close and pulled her into a hug. “Everything’s upside down,” he whispered. “The sky’s all gloomy land … because my sunshine’s here on the ground.”

Surprise threw herself against him and hugged and laughed and cried and peppered his neck and shoulder with kisses. “I’m s-sorry!” she whimpered. She pulled back to meet his eyes. “I … I love you, Soarin.”

He stayed still and silent for a long moment, but then he slowly cracked a smile. “You know what? I love you, too, uh ...” He stared flatly. “Wait a sec. Everypony just calls you Surprise. I fell in love with you without even knowing your real name!”

She leaned in to whisper by his ear and then pulled back again. “Well…? What do you think?”

He chuckled coyly. “I think I understand why you go by Surprise!”

She laughed and playfully swatted at him until they hugged all over again.They kissed, wings caressing wings, and a shiver of enchantment stirred straws and napkins and hay into dust devils around them. Nearby, at an unserved table, a stallion tentatively raised a hoof, but the mare he sat with gently pushed it back down and shook her head.

When Surprise finally broke the kiss, mussed and misty and red-eyed with emotional overflow, Soarin raised an eyebrow. “You said you did your best to fix things. How? I hope you didn’t stir up a big scandal. Spits would be crushed …”

Surprise shook her head. “Oh, nothing like that. I just got in touch with a friend of a friend, to see about taking care of stuff on the down-low.”

His head tilted. “What do you mean?”

She let out winsome, wonderful giggle. “You know how this works by now!”

He took her hoof in his. “Yeah … I think I finally do.”

Go

General Coriolis was arranging forms and papers into perfect piles on her desk when a firm knock at her office door broke the orderly silence. She frowned. “Come.”

The door glowed golden, like summer sunshine. It opened, and the sunshine flooded the room.

“Princess Celestia …!” The General leaped from her chair and hurried around her desk to snap to attention and salute, stiff as a statue.

The Princess waved a broad wing downward. “At ease.”

Coriolis was anything but as she dropped her hoof. “I wasn’t notified of any inspections or audiences. To what do I owe the honour?”

Celestia sat down and folded her wings. “Oh, this isn’t exactly a formal visit. More of a … personal matter.”

“Ah, what do You mean, Princess?” In close quarters, the Alicorn’s faint magical aura really did feel like direct sunlight. Coriolis felt sweat bead on her forehead.

A crystal decanter in one corner glowed with magic and unstoppered itself, and two empty snifters rose up before it. Celestia nodded at them. “Shall we?”

Coriolis swallowed despite a suddenly dry mouth. “I don’t usually when … ah … yes. Of course, Princess. As You please.”

The Princess stood and strode over to the corner. The decanter poured two generous portions of aged pear brandy. “I received a letter today. Rainbow Dash relayed it to me from a friend of hers on the squadron.”

Coriolis straightened her perfectly straight tie. “I see.”

The decanter stoppered itself and returned to its proper spot. “Rainbow was entrusted with safeguarding the Element of Loyalty for a time — did you know that? I trust her implicitly in such matters.”

The General nodded silently.

Celestia turned to face her. The filled glasses hovered on either side of her. “Considering what the letter brought to my attention, and what I’ve learned since then, I believe you and I need to have a talk about history.”

“History, Princess?”

Celestia nodded. “You’re quite concerned about the good reputation of the Wonderbolts, aren’t you? About preserving their legacy?” Her ears pinned back very, very slightly. “Well, so am I. I knew General Firefly. Personally. I know better than anypony alive what the Wonderbolts stood for, and stand for.”

One of the glasses floated within Coriolis’s reach. When she took it, the other raised into clinking range.

The General smelled the heady, sweet vapours of the brandy. She raised the glass. “Wh-What are we toasting, Your Highness?”

Celestia smiled demurely as crystal met crystal. “Your retirement.”

THE END