The inside of the car, fireproof hood, and the helmet all worked together to muffle the sounds of the crowd and the distant sounds of big-bore engines starting, revving, and dying again. A cool flow of air puffed against Rainbow Dash's lips inside the helmet.

The door of the car she was in opened.

"You good to start?" Soarin yelled, knowing Rainbow Dash would be hard of hearing.

Like an idiot, Rainbow Dash tried to nod. She couldn't. The straps on her helmet and neck brace kept her from moving her head more than an inch. She lifted a hand and gave Soarin a thumbs up. She watched through her visor as he circled to the front of her car, leaned over the hood and held a squirt bottle up to the throttle butterflies.

The same hand Rainbow Dash had used to give the thumbs up reached to a row of buttons and toggles where a sun visor should be on any normal car. This was not a normal car.

Fuel pump on.

Ignition on.

Someone beside her plugged a battery kit into the car and Rainbow Dash pressed the starter.

Five hundred and twenty-five cubic inches of big block hemi took a deep breath of air and misted methanol and coughed out its first eight breaths of fire.

With her foot on the transbrake, Rainbow Dash rolled forward once she saw Soarin and Fleetfoot retreated. She steered the front wheels through the water patch, but the moment her back ones hit it, Rainbow Dash's world came alive.

The engine twitched to the side as it tried to push a thousand horsepower through the torque converter, transmission, and differential. It quickly revved high, and the back end of the car was engulfed in smoke. Rainbow Dash didn't ease off, instead she took her thumb off the line-locker that kept the front wheels' breaks on. The car began to roll and lay a pair of thick, black rubber tracks down the track and over the starting line.

Rainbow Dash eased off the throttle, touched the breaks, and put the car into reverse.

Wearing the tightest shorts money could buy, and a blue shirt with a dragon curling around it, Fleetfoot waved Rainbow Dash backwards, guiding the big rear slicks of the car along the warm rubber path.

When Rainbow Dash saw the two white lights on the Christmas-tree flash twice she eased the brake back on and halted the car. She waited for Fleetfoot to check the throttle bodies on the engine, then she pulled her door closed. Only three things existed for Rainbow Dash at that moment: the lights of the Christmas-tree, the brake, and the track ahead of her.

Then a fourth thing intruded. Rainbow Dash leaned lightly on the throttle and felt the whole car twist to the right. She became connected to her car's engine in a way no other creature could connect. She was the brain controlling the heart of the beast. Car and woman were one.

One white light.

Two white lights.

Rainbow Dash held the steering wheel easily, her gloved hands locked in place. She started leaning her foot on the accelerator and her monster started to roar. More and more, louder and louder. Then there was a flash of amber in her eyes, and the world stopped. Rainbow Dash's foot leaned forward further and she jerked off the brake.

The car, like a cat, set its feet into the ground and pushed. One foot. Two feet. Three feet past the line and Rainbow Dash's foot was crashing to the floor. The three butterflies on the engine's air-intake were wide open and a loud whine was starting to build.

Fire poured from each side of the car, faster than any normal creature could see. Rainbow Dash could have counted the licks of fire from the car's exhaust, but she was too focused. The track rolled under her, faster and faster.

A light in front of Rainbow's face flickered red, and she punched a button. And then again, she jabbed the button again.

Almost screaming into her helmet, Rainbow Dash felt the rush as she slipped over the finish line and, as she had drilled, punched the chutes and started reaching for the brakes.

She was already past the timing lights before they managed to show her speed and elapsed times. The car was slowing down, and Rainbow Dash reached up and hit the switch to cut the fuel and ignition.

As her car rolled to a stop, Rainbow Dash watched Blaze hook the tow rope to the car and start pulling in the beefed up golf cart.

Gloves. Helmet. Fire-hood. Rainbow Dash's hair was free and she gave a yell of excitement. She had to keep her head a little to steer her car, but for the most part she just knew she had gotten to the end of the track first. She had won.

Someone opened her door and passed her the timing slip. Rainbow Dash's smile got even wider. "Five-five at two-sixty? Holy shit!" It was her best time yet, and she knew it was going to be one that was hard to beat.

She rolled through weighing and inspection, then Blaze hooked up again and pulled her back to the pits. The second her car was in a yellow-skinned valkyrie leaned in and pressed her lips against Rainbow Dash's.

The mix of smells, nitromethane and methanol, was like a drug to Rainbow Dash and Spitfire. The kiss lasted nearly two minutes (while the crew were already stripping down the front of the car).

Rainbow Dash sucked on Spitfire's tongue as her wife pulled back. "Did you see that?"

"Are you asking if I saw the hottest pro-mod racer in the world just blow away the competition in the semi-finals? Yeah, I saw the fuck out of that." Tracing her hand down Rainbow Dash's race-suit, Spitfire popped the restraints and pressed firmly at Rainbow's crotch. "The question is, do I let you out or get you off in the car?"

"Decisions, decisions." Rainbow Dash ran her tongue over her lips, tasting Spitfire's lips there. "Maybe you better let me out. Someone has to repack my chute."

Rainbow Dash took Spitfire's help to get out of her car. She could get out herself, but not without significant effort. Stripping the racing suit down to her waist, Rainbow Dash tied the sleeves above her hips.

Arching her back, Rainbow Dash felt her wings fluttering free again. She had learned to put the racing suit on over the top of them or her wings would poke through and she wouldn't be able to race.

She had realized that regular sports were not going to work for her. She could outrun any human on the planet, fly, and with her reaction times no one could compete against her. But here, on a thousand feet of blacktop, everything was about control.

"Zap pulled out of the last run, Rainbow. You got the win." Soarin, carrying a clipboard, walked up and passed it to Rainbow Dash. "All you have to do is a single pass and don't screw up."

Staring at the clipboard, Rainbow Dash's wings fluffed out and spread. "This. Is. Awesome! Wait!" She turned and looked at her car. "You remember that tune you came up with? The burnout one?"

Soarin's eyes went wide as saucers, and his grin widened.

"Yeah, let's run that and give these people a show!" Rainbow Dash held her fist out, offered to Soarin. She saw his eyes dart to something behind her. Rainbow started to turn but not before a pair of gold hands reached around her and clutched her boobs through the tank top she wore.

Spitfire leaned her head on Rainbow Dash's shoulder. "You mean to tell me you're gonna wrestle that thing for a full quarter of burnout? That sounds hot as hell! Let's get a camera in the car for it."

When Spitfire let got of her, Rainbow Dash turned and moved to the side and shoved Spitfire against the back of the blue Chevy-styled car. "What I want to do in the car shouldn't be filmed." She leaned over Spitfire and pressed her hips against her lover's. "But the pass should be fine."

"Pack your chute, make your pass, get your trophy and join me in the truck." Spitfire looked deep into Rainbow Dash's cerulean eyes.

Again Rainbow Dash was at the line. This time, however, she hadn't even done a burnout. It was customary for a car to just roll down the track in first, but she had no intention of that. A thousand dollars of race slicks would be almost gone by the time Rainbow Dash finished this race, but it would be a show the sponsors would love. She turned to the side.

"You ready to go on a wild ride?!"

She turned her head back straight and rolled forward into the staging beams.

Soarin rushed out and sprayed down the throttles with methanol, then gave her the thumbs up.

The lights flashed amber, then green. This was the part where the driver would ease off the brake and roll down the track. Rainbow Dash mashed the throttle down and her engine, normally forty-five-hundred horsepower, roared to life in the strange tune Soarin had come up with. Smoke started to pour off the tires, and slowly Rainbow eased off the locker and began rolling forward.

The car sped up, of course, but even by the eighth mile mark she was still spinning her slicks. As the car got faster, the steering became less of a problem, but the smoke building up in the cockpit was making seeing hard.

By the time Rainbow Dash realized where she was the finish line was a hundred feet behind her and she was screaming like a banshee. She didn't need the chutes, and the brakes didn't even start to warm up. Gloves, helmet, and hood were tossed to the side.

A gold figure in Rainbow Dash's racing team's colors hooked up the tow cable, but it wasn't Blaze. Spitfire opened the passenger side door and jumped in. Rainbow Dash's car had been built to take a second seat (the weight restrictions meant that any extra mass was perfectly fine). She leaned up and tapped the camera controls to stop it recording.

Rainbow Dash's eyes widened when Spitfire leaned across the roll-cage between them and started undoing the front of Rainbow's racing suit. "What are—?" Her question was answered when, with the suit pulled down to her hips, Spitfire leaned over further and sank her head between Rainbow Dash's thighs.

"Oh shit!" As Spitfire's tongue started lancing over her folds, Rainbow Dash tightened her grip on the steering wheel. Her fingers turned deep blue with the tightness thanks mostly to her lover knowing all the right places.

Spitfire nuzzled and lapped, and reached one hand over to start stroking Rainbow Dash's thigh. It was the least comfortable sex Spitfire had ever been involved with, but it was worth it. She heard the door open and leaned a little more over Rainbow Dash's hips.

With the door open, Rainbow Dash took her timing slip from the shocked woman. "Th-Thanks!" She quickly pulled the door closed again, just as Spitfire pushed her to a mini orgasm.

Trembling in her racing seat, Rainbow Dash's eyes almost glazed over. She tried to keep the car following Blaze's cart, but when Spitfire started pushing a finger into her she almost rolled off the side of the path leading to the weighing station.

By the time they reached the pits Rainbow Dash's body was trembling with her need for a full release and her cheeks were blushing at how many people had seen her mid coitus. When Soarin opened the door she yelled out in shock. "Close the door!"

"As if we haven't seen a newbie get a really happy ending at the first victory. Is she done with you yet or are we going to need a pry-bar to get you apart?" Soarin couldn't help but admire his boss' tenacity.

"F-Five minutes." Rainbow Dash managed to reach out and pull the door closed.

She didn't last another two minutes, let alone five.

Spitfire, finally, leaned up and off a panting Rainbow Dash's groin. "You had some stamina. All the sex is paying off." She tried to work a kink out of her back as she slumped back in the passenger seat.

"Well, if someone would work on a bit of foreplay I might be quicker off the line." Rainbow Dash pulled her panties back into place, her shorts too, and opened the door to climb out. As she did, however, she noticed something. "Uh, you left the camera running."

"It didn't see anything, it was looking forward." Spitfire shrugged and climbed out her own side. She did make sure to grab the camera. "Although I should probably delete the sounds of our… celebration."

Author's Note

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