“Hey! Wait up!” Rainbow Dash cried.
The little knot of girls walking down the sidewalk stopped and waited for her as she clambered off the school bus, then ran towards them grinning like an idiot.
“Someone’s happy about something,” said Sunset, with a smile.
“I found it,” Rainbow gasped, breathlessly.
“Found what?” asked Applejack.
“The Rainbow Wagon,” Rainbow replied.
Rainbow dug in her pocket, fished out her phone, and brushed a few dorito crumbs off it, then turned it around to show them.
“A van,” she continued. “Twelve passengers. Big enough for everyone.”
All five of the others peered closely at the photo.
“It looks a little… dingy,” Rarity said, finally.
“Well, yeah. It’s used,” she said. “Gonna fix it up, paint it, make it awesome. And then we can all go on a road trip to Las Pegasus!”
“Las Pegasus?” repeated Twilight. “Rainbow, that’s all the way across the country... “
Rainbow gestured dismissively. “Oh, you know what I mean. We can get out of this town and do something fun!”
“I like fun,” Pinkie chimed in.
They rounded a corner, and Canterlot High came into view. The building shone orange in the early-morning sunlight, and students were streaming towards it from all directions. But before the girls could get to school, they had to cross the parking lot, which lay between them and the building. Sunset wove her way between Principal Celestia’s minivan and Mr. Doodle’s two-seater coupe, leading the way towards the far end of the lot.
“How much is it, exactly?” asked Twilight..
“That’s the best part!” Rainbow cried. “It’s only six hundred dollars!”
Twilight blinked. “That's not very much,” she said.
“Well, yeah,” Rainbow shot back. “But I don’t need very much. Just something that’ll run. And besides, you can do a lot to a car with spray paint…”
“An’ where, exactly, are you gonna get six hundred dollars?” Applejack asked.
“I have it saved!” Rainbow replied, throwing out her chest. “Saved it up from my lifeguard job last summer. I have enough in the bank for the van, some paint and stuff like that, and some left over to do whatever we want!”
“Yeah, but—” Applejack protested.
Without warning, Rainbow gasped in surprise and glee. She pushed past Applejack and Sunset and broke into a run, but not towards the school. Instead, she made a beeline towards the far corner of the parking lot. There, parked in a spot behind a tree, stood a sleek, black motorcycle.
“Sylvia’s already here!” Rainbow called.
“Sylvia’s always here,” grumbled Applejack.
But Rainbow ignored her. Instead, she kneeled to inspect the bike: a low-slung chopper, with the handlebars way up in the air and the wheel way out front. The glossy black fenders and gleaming chrome were so polished they almost shone, and the black leather seats and studded leather saddlebags smelled sweet and warm. The curves of the bike were strong and powerful. Something about them felt almost animal, almost sexual--and yet, delicate lines of pink and green traced its shape, leaving behind little patterns of leaves and flowers. According to the chrome emblems on the fenders, the bike was a vintage Alicorn Imperial, a brand that Rainbow had never heard of--but then again, she hadn’t heard of many in the first place. The only other markings on the bike were its license plate and the name of its owner, painted in elegant cursive on the side of the gas tank: Sylvia.
“Jeez,” Sunset said with a smile, “just start making out with that thing already, why don’t you.”
“I’m not gonna make out with it!” Rainbow said, jumping to her feet. “Just… it’s an awesome bike! And I bet Sylvia’s awesome, too!”
“Yeah, yeah, we know,” said Sunset. “C’mon, we’ll be late for homeroom.”
The six of them turned and walked towards the school, Rainbow lagging behind and kicking at a rock on the sidewalk.
“It’s awesome,” she muttered again. “Bikes are awesome.” She sighed. "Bet Sylvia's pretty awesome, too."
That was the thing, though: no one knew who Sylvia was. Her bike appeared in the same parking spot every morning, and that was about all anyone knew for sure. Rumors swirled, though. Some said she was one of the teachers, the sort who never told students their first names. Some said she was one of those kids who was secretly loaded, waiting until the right moment to reveal her wealth. Some said she was Vice-Principal Luna, using an assumed name to hide her badassery. Some people claimed that they’d even seen Sylvia herself: tall, thin, clad all in slimming black leather and a full-face helmet, the perfect vision of a sexy biker babe in her element.
But no one knew for sure--and that was half the reason that the mysterious motorcycle was so tantalizing. If only she could...
“Oh, hey Fluttershy,” said Sunset, cutting into Rainbow’s reverie. "You're here early.”
Rainbow looked up. Fluttershy was sitting on the ground outside the front doors, her back against the wall, a spiral notebook open on her lap, and a squirrel nestled against her.
“I'm always early,” she said. “Got to make sure all the class pets are taken care of." She closed her notebook and stood. "How was the bus?” she asked.
“Fine,” Rainbow said, digging for her phone again. “But wait until you hear about my van!”
Fluttershy raised an eyebrow. “You bought a van?” she asked.
“No,” she said, “but I’m gonna! It’s absolutely perfect, it has enough room for all of us, and—”
Fluttershy took the phone and examined it for a moment. Then, she handed it back.
“When are you going to go look at it?” she asked.
“Today! Right after school!”
“I’d like to come,” she said.
* * *
“Here we are, Sweetie,” cooed Windy Whistles, as she put the minivan in park. “Just where you said it was.”
“Thanks, Ma,” said Rainbow, unbuckling her seat belt and leaping from the van. Or, she tried to, at least, until Mrs. Whistles grabbed her and pulled her in for a kiss on the cheek.
“Ma!” squealed Rainbow.
“You be careful, now,” said Mrs. Whistles. “You know how dangerous the internet can be…”
Fluttershy, in the back seat, undid her seat belt and slid out the side door. “Thank you, Mrs. Whistles,” she said. “We’ll be back in a few minutes.”
She walked to the sidewalk and examined the house skeptically. She was joined a moment later by Rainbow, who wiped sulkily at her cheek where her mother had kissed her. “You ready?” Rainbow muttered. Fluttershy nodded, but there was a hint of unease about the motion.
If Rainbow hadn’t been rather distracted already, she might have wondered why Fluttershy had insisted on coming along. True, they were best friends, and already spent most of their time together, but this sort of thing--driving out to the ‘burbs to buy an old van from some internet rando--didn’t exactly seem like Fluttershy’s idea of a good time. But Fluttershy hadn’t complained yet, at least, and Rainbow had other things on her mind.
They found the van around the side of the house, underneath an old oak tree. The second she spotted it, Rainbow squealed for joy and broke into a run--but Fluttershy walked carefully towards it, eyes wide and staring.
It was a big, boxy van, dusty and covered in leaves. The brown, striped paint hadn’t aged well, nor had the rusted steel ladder leading up to the cargo rack on the roof. Inside, Its red vinyl seats were dry and cracked, and brown shag carpet covered floor, walls, and ceiling. Fluttershy approached it carefully, then walked around it, hands clasped behind her back, inspecting every inch of it.
Meanwhile, Rainbow had already clambered up into the driver’s seat. She was jerking the wheel back and forth and stomping on the pedals in turn like some insane racecar driver. Eventually, she noticed Fluttershy making her careful circuit towards the driver’s side door, and opened it a crack.
“Isn’t this just awesome?” she cried. “Think of all the places we could go, Fluttershy! We could—”
But Fluttershy didn’t respond. Instead, she pulled Rainbow’s door open the rest of the way, then poked her head inside. She stared at the console for a moment, pressed her mouth into a thin line, then stepped back out again.
Rainbow watched her quizzically as she walked to the front of the van, squatted down, and poked her fingers in through the grille. Whatever she was looking for, she apparently didn’t find it, because she stood back up and walked slowly towards the passenger door. She opened it, then climbed in and sat. She sniffed the air once or twice and made a face.
Rainbow flashed a broad grin. “So what do you think?” she said. “Awesome, right?”
Fluttershy looked down, then crossed her hands in her lap. “I don’t think you should buy it,” she said quietly.
Rainbow hesitated for a second, then grinned broader. “Aw, c’mon,” she said. “It’s not that bad. Just a good wash, some vacuuming, and one of those little pine trees, and it’ll be good as new!”
“No,” she replied, shaking her head. “It’s really not a good buy.”
“‘Course it is!” Rainbow cried. “It fits my budget perfectly!”
“No, it doesn’t,” Fluttershy insisted. “There’s still a lot of work it needs.”
“Aw, c’mon,” Rainbow said. “What has you so sour? Really?”
Fluttershy took a deep breath, set her jaw, then looked Rainbow in the eye. “It’s an ‘86 Cimarron Caravan with close to a million miles,” she said, her voice quiet, yet firm. “The tires are worn out, the tags are expired, something’s wrong with the radiator, and it smells like a racoon made a nest out of your wiring.” She knocked on the dashboard. “This thing deserves to go to the junkyard, not your driveway.”
“Junkyard?” Rainbow yelped.
“You’d be better off saving your money for an actual car,” Fluttershy continued. “Something that won’t break down the second you get it home.”
Fluttershy’s quiet earnestness gave Rainbow pause--but only for a second.
“It's not that bad,” she said brightly. “And, if it does break down, I’ll just fix it! Can’t be that hard, can it?”
Fluttershy opened her mouth to reply, but Rainbow was already vaulting out the door again.
“C’mon,” she said. “Let’s find the guy, give him his cash, and get this baby home! Rainbow Wagon, here we come!”
Fluttershy sat by herself in the car for several seconds after Rainbow had left. She glanced around the interior, trying not to notice the cracked windows, the worn seat belts, the threadbare carpet, and the telltale raccoon droppings. She sighed heavily, then clambered out after Rainbow.
* * *
The day had barely even started before it went all wrong.
“No no no no no!” cried Rainbow. She banged frantically on the dashboard of the Rainbow Wagon as smoke billowed out from under its hood.
She had worked hard over the weekend to get the Wagon all fixed up for the first Monday of its career. Like she had told Fluttershy she would, she had washed it, vaccumed it, wiped down all the seats--she even had a New Car-scented air freshener hanging dutifully from the rear-view mirror. But most exciting of all, she had painted the van, all by herself! It wasn’t perfect, of course--she’d run out of sky-blue spraypaint before she could cover the whole thing, and the rainbow stripes were a little crooked, but those were little things, right?
The plan had been for Fluttershy to meet Rainbow at her house early that morning, which she had done. Then, the two of them were going to drive around and pick up the rest of their friends, making it to school with time to spare. But the two of them hadn’t made it to the end of the street before the Wagon started rattling.
Rainbow bailed out of the driver’s seat, then ran to the hood. She tried to pull it open, but it wouldn’t budge--not until Fluttershy leaned over and pulled the release, anyway. Rainbow yanked it open, and a cloud of thick, white smoke billowed out. Rainbow stumbled backward, coughing, then tried to banish the smoke by waving it away.
When the smoke finally started to dissipate, Rainbow leaned over the engine compartment and searched frantically for something wrong. But to her, the engine looked like nothing so much as the black, bloody entrails of some fantastic beast, laid bare for her to read: coiling tubes, glistening metal, and steaming pipes, all trying to tell her something in a language she didn’t know existed until about thirty seconds ago. Rainbow’s breathing started to come in short, ragged gasps, as her chest fluttered frantically up and down.
But then, Fluttershy, still sitting quietly in the passenger seat, rolled her eyes. She unbuckled her seat belt, opened her door and climbed out. She strode to the front of the car, put her hands on Rainbow’s shoulder, and shoved her out of the way.
Rainbow stumbled two or three steps to her left, then turned and stared. Fluttershy stretched, cracked her knuckles, then, without further ado, thrust her hands into the belly of the beast.
“Radiator’s busted for sure,” she said. “That’s all the smoke. And the engine was sounding funny, too. Wouldn’t be surprised if the carburetor needed cleaning...”
As she continued her litany of curses against the stricken creature before her, Rainbow’s mouth fell open. Fluttershy worked her way carefully around the entire engine compartment, running her hands along belts and hoses, feeling carefully before grasping any of the metal. Her motions were short and jerky, revealing a barely-repressed anger--and yet, she wouldn’t have looked out of place at a veterinary clinic, diagnosing a sick animal in need of help.
Finally, she stood up, her arms stained black up to the elbows. She dusted off her hands, then turned to Rainbow and crossed her arms, carefully keeping them away from her already-soiled shirt.
“I told you it deserved to go in the junkyard,” she said.
* * *
“Almost... there,” Fluttershy gasped.
The two of them were wheeling the poor carcass of the Rainbow Wagon back home. Fluttershy stood by the driver’s door, leaning her shoulder into the doorframe, while Rainbow pushed from behind. The two of them made slow, aching progress back down the street, Fluttershy pulling the wheel this way and that, as they worked their way home.
Rainbow, for her part, felt like her legs were about to fall off. She would have complained about Fluttershy getting to steer--it was her car, after all--but the orders she’d given left no room for argument. Either way, she was looking forward to being able to take a break—
--that is, until she saw her house sliding past them.
“Flutter-shy!” she cried. “Where are we going? That’s my house, right there!”
“We’re not--going--to your house,” Fluttershy hissed. “We’re going to mine.”
“What—?”
“Just push,” grunted Fluttershy.
Slowly, they inched their way past Rainbow’s house, past Old Lady Weathervane’s, to Fluttershy’s. They wrestled the van into the driveway, but Fluttershy still didn’t park it. Instead, she guided it around the side of the house, towards the white wooden shed in the back corner of the yard.
The shed had been there for as long as Rainbow could remember. It was huge, more of a detached garage than a shed, and was made of painted white boards. She had seen the doors open once or twice, but she had never properly seen inside it; either way, she knew it was where Mr. Shy spent most of his Saturday afternoons. But before Rainbow could ask what was going on, Fluttershy left her post at the front of the car (ignoring Rainbow’s protests), jogged over to the shed, and unlocked the big, oversized padlock with a key from her own keyring. She threw the doors wide, then gestured to Rainbow to push harder.
The two of them maneuvered the van inside before Fluttershy finally called for them to stop. Rainbow leaned against the back of the van and panted. After a few moments, Fluttershy came around the side of the van and handed her a flat can of greasy plastic, a volcano stenciled on the side.
“You can wash up at the sink,” she said, pointing to the deep janitor’s sink in the corner. “Then you should probably text everyone and tell them to get another ride to school.”
Rainbow walked to the sink, then started to wash her hands with the soap from the can, which made the grease practically melt away. As she scrubbed, she looked around.
The inside of the shed was surprisingly roomy. The dark corners were filled with all manner of tools--wrenches and ratchets and drills, and a hundred more she didn’t recognize. All along the walls stood shelves full of motor oil, transmission fluid, and brake fluid, with a dozen colors of antifreeze and washer fluid in gallon bottles underneath. And that was only the things she knew the names of.
As Rainbow looked around, she gradually became aware of something else in the shed: a long, narrow shape, draped with a canvas tarp and tucked away up against the wall. A shape that was oddly familiar. Rainbow dried her hands, then squatted down and lifted up an edge of the tarp--just as Fluttershy came around the corner.
“Don’t—!” she cried.
But Rainbow already had. She held her edge of the tarp carefully, as if she thought it might break, staring into the shadows underneath. Then, slowly, she stood, and drew back the tarp.
Underneath, still shining despite the gloom in the shed, stood the black motorcycle that she had seen in the school parking lot.
Rainbow turned to stare at Fluttershy, eyes wide.
“You’re Sylvia?” she cried.
* * *
Twenty minutes later, Fluttershy had found blue mechanics’ jumpsuits for both herself and Rainbow. Hers had a single butterfly stitched over the pocket, while Rainbow’s was blank. Fluttershy had also found some hair ties, which she had offered to Rainbow; Rainbow waved her off, even as Fluttershy was snapping her hair into a ponytail.
“So… run that past me again,” Rainbow said slowly.
“Sylvia is the bike,” Fluttershy said. She was bent over the engine compartment of the Wagon, which made her voice echo strangely around the shed. “Found her at an auction a year-and-a-half ago, and I love her like any of my other pets.”
“O… kay,” Rainbow replied. “But… why do you keep her a secret…?”
“Oh, don’t you start,” Fluttershy snapped. She burrowed deeper into the compartment, sticking her butt up in the air. “Why do you like working on engines so much, Fluttershy? Maybe because my Dad works in an auto plant, and he and I spent my entire childhood working on engines here at home? Why don’t you tell anyone that you ride a motorcycle to school? Probably because girls aren’t supposed to like stuff like this, and I don’t want all the extra attention? Why do you wear all that black leather when you’re a vegetarian, Fluttershy? Oh, I don’t know, possibly because I don’t particularly want to deal with road rash? Besides, it’s all synthetic...” Still bent over the compartment, Fluttershy raised one arm and pointed. “Breaker bar,” she commanded.
Rainbow turned to the toolbox and stared helplessly. She fished out a wrench and held it up.
“No,” Fluttershy said, still halfway into the compartment, “the big one.”
Rainbow put the wrench down, and picked up a bigger one.
“The big one,” Fluttershy snapped. “On the wall. Three feet long. Can’t miss it.”
Rainbow stared blankly at the wall of tools, before finally spotting it. She reached up and grabbed it--a long, thin rod of steel, with a fitting at one end. Fluttershy finally surfaced, nodded a curt thanks to Rainbow, and took the bar from her. She fished in her pocket and withdrew a wrench socket, which she snapped on the bar without looking. She turned back to the engine compartment, slipped the whole assembly onto a particularly stubborn bolt, then straightened up. She grabbed the far end of the bar and pulled, but nothing happened.
“Uh… need some help?” asked Rainbow.
Fluttershy gritted her teeth, then braced one foot against the side of the van. She hauled on the bar, but, despite a groan of metal, nothing moved.Fluttershy braced her other foot and leaned back as far as she could. The bar itself started to flex, and yet, the bolt held firm. Rainbow gulped, ran over, grabbed the bar, and pulled--and, in that instant, the bolt gave with a crack.
When the stars cleared, Rainbow found herself lying in a heap with Fluttershy on top of her, the breaker bar on top of her, and something black and sticky running from the engine and pooling on the floor.
Rainbow shoved Fluttershy off of her, then sat with her back against the wall. Fluttershy shook her head, then clambered to her feet and walked back over to the Wagon.
“Well,” she said darkly, “that’s it, then. Wagon’s dead in the water. Just like I told you.” She turned, leaned against the van, and crossed her arms. “What do you want a van for, anyways? You don’t have a job, you take the bus to school, and your mom will drive you anywhere else you want to go--not to mention, the whole super-speed thing.” She brushed a strand of hair out of her face. “Yeah, you had six hundred dollars lying around--but you’re going to be lucky if you get a working car out of this without spending twice that much. Just like I told you," she repeated. "What on earth would motivate you to buy a heap of junk like this?” she finished, kicking savagely at one of the tires.
For a long moment, Rainbow was quiet. Then, Rainbow cautiously hugged her legs to her chest.
“I wanted to take care of my friends,” she said quietly.
Fluttershy blinked.
Rainbow gestured limply. “Think about it, Shy--band tours. Camping trips. Beach days. Road trips. All stuff we can do as friends. All stuff that brings us together.” She looked up, and Fluttershy saw the tears in her eyes. “Yeah,” she admitted, “we could borrow Mom’s minivan. But that’s not the same. That’s not us. And this—” she gestured at the Wagon “--this is. Could be,” she corrected herself. “Might have been,” she added, miserably.
Fluttershy watched Rainbow for a long, quiet moment, then sighed. She walked over beside Rainbow, then sat down and leaned back against the wall.
“Tell me about her,” she said.
Rainbow looked up. “Her?” she repeated. “Her who?”
Fluttershy gestured at the van. “The Rainbow Wagon. The one you’ve been dreaming about.”
Rainbow stared back at her blankly for a moment, before, slowly, like the sun rising, her entire face lit up. “Oh man, Shy,” Rainbow said eagerly, as she leaned her head back against the wall. “She’s going to be amazing. She’s gonna have a badass paint job, like the sunny summer sky after a rain, double rainbows all the way down her sides. She’s gonna have room enough to fit anything we’d ever want--our instruments, our luggage, our camping gear, all of it. And, if we need more room, we can just pull out the seats. We’ll go everywhere and anywhere we want--and, if we get tired, we’ll just pull over, move the luggage to the roof, and sleep in the back. Freedom, Shy,” she said, gesturing wide. “That’s what it’s all about. Freedom and friendship. We’ll go and do anything we want. And we do it together.”
Fluttershy watched Rainbow for a long, silent moment. Then, without a word, she stood and walked around the side of the van. Rainbow watched her curiously, then stood and followed her, only to discover her standing at a workbench. She had a pad of grease-stained yellow paper in front of her, and she was writing quickly on it in fluid cursive. Rainbow watched her for a while, uncomprehending. She opened her mouth to ask her what she was doing, but right as she did, Fluttershy finished with a flourish, tore off the top sheet of paper, and handed it to her.
“These are the parts you’ll need--to start with at least,” she said. “Get your mom to take you to the junkyard. I’ll let you know if anything else comes up.”
Rainbow stared at the list for several seconds before she understood what she was looking at. When she did, she squealed, then dragged Fluttershy in for a fierce hug.
“Thankyouthankyouthankyou—” she blurted.
“Hang on!” Fluttershy yelped. “I'm not done!”
Rainbow grinned, then held her at arms’ length. Fluttershy rolled her eyes, then returned the smile.
“First,” she said, holding up a finger. “You pay for all the parts. This stuff adds up, and I can’t afford it all.”
Rainbow nodded eagerly.
“Second,” Fluttershy continued, “you find someone else to help with your wiring. That stuff scares me.”
“No problem,” Rainbow replied.
“Third. I want a case of apple cider here, every Saturday morning, cold. Car repair is thirsty work.”
“Absolutely.”
“And fourth,” Fluttershy said, holding up one last finger, “you tell no one--no one--that I’m helping you. And that goes double for Sylvia.”
“Aww, man,” muttered Rainbow. “But Sylvia’s so cool—”
Fluttershy shot her a hard look, and Rainbow held up her hands defensively.
“Fine, fine,” she said. “I’ll keep quiet about your freaky knowledge of auto maintenance.”
“And?”
“And Sylvia,” Rainbow added.
Fluttershy smiled, then put her hand down. “Good,” she said. “Now, we should probably wash up and get to school. It’s late, but maybe we can make third period still…”
* * *
Rainbow counted time in cider. Every Friday, she bought a case from the local grocery store, lugged it home, and put it in the fridge. And every Saturday, she brought it to Fluttershy's house, only to find her already hard at work in the shed. She bought six cases before it was done.
Cider wasn't the only thing she bought, though. Before the end, she had paid for about half of an engine block, more belts and pipes than she could count, and about seventeen bottles of every fluid you could put in a car--but in the end, it was worth it.
Everyone had pitched in to the final product. Pinkie had helped paint the exterior--properly, this time. Rarity had stitched seat covers that even Rainbow had to admit looked pretty cool. Applejack borrowed Big Mac’s tools and spot-welded the rust on the frame. Rainbow had done as she promised and gotten someone to do the wiring, but Twilight had insisted on installing some fancy new LED dome lights for safety. And Sunset had drilled some holes and installed enough hooks to hang all their instruments from the walls.
But Fluttershy had done all the heavy lifting, of course. Every time Rainbow saw her outside of school, she was always in the middle of replacing this, cleaning that, adjusting the other. Rainbow could have sworn that she had never seen Fluttershy so happy--or so filthy.
But, by the end of it, the Rainbow Wagon ran. And, not only that, it purred like a kitten.
Fluttershy smiled to herself as she watched Rainbow inspect every inch of their collective handiwork, babbling excitedly. Seeing her enthusiasm… well, it was hard to doubt that, sometimes, at least, dreams really did come true.
* * *
Sylvia rumbled underneath Fluttershy, her voice the contented growl of a tame wildcat.
Fluttershy swung Sylvia’s handlebars and turned her into the empty school parking lot. She guided her around the few cars already here, then glided into her favorite parking spot, the one behind the tree. She turned off the ignition, then leaned back and stretched, looking up at the tree above her. Yeah, she had to brush off the leaves in the fall, and sometimes a bird did its business on the seat, but the shade kept Sylvia cool, and the tree itself kept her more-or-less hidden from prying eyes.
Fluttershy climbed off of her bike, then pulled off her helmet and tucked it under one arm. She shook her hair loose, then turned and walked towards the school, still wearing her leather jacket and pants. She would make her way to the girls’ locker room, change into the outfit folded carefully in the bottom of her backpack, then tuck away her leathers and her helmet in her locker with her books. She’d do the same in reverse after everyone else had gone home in the afternoon--or, at least, after enough had gone that no one would spot her walking the halls.
As she walked, Fluttershy took a deep breath of the morning air. It was just before seven o’clock. This was one of her favorite times of day. The janitor had already unlocked the front door, but hardly anyone else had shown up yet. Yeah, that gave her the freedom to go around and visit all the class animals, but it was more than that. Her time by herself in the morning gave her an opportunity to find her center--to prepare for the day ahead, all by herself, with no one else around to—
“Hey, Fluttershy,” someone said.
Fluttershy jumped and gave a little squeal. She dropped her helmet and sent it clattering to the pavement. She snatched it up, checked it quickly for damage, then turned and shot a glare at the person who had interrupted her reverie. Rainbow Dash, who was leaning against the wall by the door, twirling the key to the Rainbow Wagon around her finger by its ring, just smirked.
“Fancy meeting you here,” she continued nonchalantly.
“Good morning, Rainbow Dash,” Fluttershy said, with the slightest hint of an edge in her voice.
“Morning, Sylvia,” Rainbow replied, grinning a little wider. “How was your ride today?”
Fluttershy glared at her. “What do you want, Rainbow?”
“Oh, nothing much,” she said, tossing her key in the air and catching it. “Just something I wanted to talk to you about. Privately.”
Fluttershy sighed. “What is it?”
“Well,” Rainbow said, conspiratorially. “I realized that I’m not the only one at school who’s curious about who this Sylvia character is. I’m not even the only one of our friends. And I know a lot of people are going to want to offer me quite a bit for any information I might have…”
Fluttershy raised an eyebrow. “What exactly are you implying?” she asked.
“Oh, y’know,” she replied. “Just hoping for a little trade. A favor for a favor.”
Fluttershy scowled. “I gave you a favor,” she said. “I fixed the Rainbow Wagon for you.”
“I know,” Rainbow said. “But that deal’s done. Now I want a new one.”
Fluttershy crossed her arms. “Well? What is it?”
“I won’t tell anyone who Sylvia is,” she said, “on one condition.”
Fluttershy gestured impatiently for her to continue.
“I want you,” Rainbow said, “to teach me how to ride Sylvia.”
Fluttershy stared at her for a long, long moment, before the hint of a smile started to creep across her face.
“It’s nothing like driving a car,” she said.
“I figured,” came the reply.
“It’s dangerous.”
“I live for danger.”
“Scarier, too. So easy to make a mistake…”
“Do I look like the kind of person to make mistakes?”
Fluttershy’s eyes sparkled. “And you’re going to have the time of your life.”
Rainbow grinned. “That’s what I wanted to hear,” she said, her voice trembling with excitement.
As the two of them walked into the school, Rainbow chattering excitedly about what sort of bike she wanted, Fluttershy allowed herself a little grin. The early-morning solitude was one of her favorite parts of having Sylvia around.
But then again--it might be nice to have someone else along to enjoy the ride.
Author's Note
This story is indebted to AmtrakBrony.
In 2016, I pre-read one of Amtrak’s stories. It was intended as a cross-over between MLP and Pimp My Ride, in which Rainbow bought a broken-down van and got it pimped by Xzibit. I, never having watched Pimp My Ride, encouraged them to 1) focus more on the emotional background of the story--specifically, why Rainbow wanted her van pimped so badly, and 2) have one of her friends do the work--say, for example, Fluttershy. However, that was the last I heard of it.
The basic concept--Fluttershy, the closeted auto nut, helping Rainbow fix up a van--has stuck with me ever since, though. I probably should have been a little more encouraging with the original story, but I hope I did the idea justice in the end.
Thanks for the inspiration, Amtrak, and I’m sorry if I squashed your idea. I hope you like how it turned out, though!
