Always on Time, Always Eager to be Late
If it isn't the threads breaking, it’s that they’re too thick. The saddlebags thrashed, the chestnut leather cracked with wear. Upper layers of the skin were peeling, a few tiny fragments losing their grip to the layer beneath and flying off to be swept up with the spectral streak behind them. The old luggage had long since lost its ability to bear the strain of being rapidly dragged through the air, but its carrier showed no sign of being gentle on its deteriorating state.
You’d think since Rarity spends so much time sewing, she’d be better at ordering the right size, the right fabric, the right... Rainbow Dash caught herself trailing off. Her wing flaps quickly yet gradually grew weaker, their pace reducing until she had slowed enough to drift safely into a glide. The saddlebags drooped to her sides, the peeled shreds of leather rustling in the now softer breeze as she spread her wings out in a static position and coasted along the cool wind stream. There was a shiver as her damp fur was brushed by the air. She took in a gust of it through her nose, closing her eyes in order to focus on letting it pass through her chest, and released it through her mouth.
Opening her eyes again, the thin hazy cloud formations that were once in front of her now parted, revealing Ponyville below. Near the center, she could spot Rarity’s boutique, lavish and pristine as usual. No worries. It’s cool, she reassured herself as she gracefully decreased altitude toward her target. I’m good with playing delivery pony every once in a while if it means everybody gets whatever mundane thing they need that day. Just think it’s a little overkill for a top class flier such as myself... The pegasus croaked under a subtle layer of guilt for even thinking of helping a friend as being a chore. After all, she did insist on doing it despite Rarity assuring her it could wait. It just seemed necessary at the time. You know she’ll be a nervous wreck if she doesn’t have it sooner than later. But this guilt was promptly replaced with the satisfaction of accomplishment when her hooves planted on the ground in front of the boutique. A slight clack between her hooves and the stone walkway echoed off of the other buildings in the square, void of but a few ponies sitting out front to finish their dinners or close up shop for the day. "Alright, just gotta get these in to Rarity and we’re done for today," she chirped with newfound anticipation, "then it’s a short flight back home and a long, chill night of rest and relaxation at casa de Rainbow Dash." She chuckled at her idea before making it to the main door of the boutique and stepping inside.
A bell chimed above her head, the cheap, tinny note buzzing by her ears. Before she got even her third hoof through the door, this was counteracted by a familiarly melodious — albeit overly so to Dash — voice from a joyful white unicorn. “Oh, Rainbow Dash, darling!” Rarity exclaimed at the sight of the deliverer of her precious goods, “You’re back with those lovely threads I ordered!” The door flew shut behind Rainbow and she saw Rarity standing by the display stage, along with, unexpectedly, Pinkie and Twilight.
“Yep! Freshly made from Canterlot Contours, too. That is the brand you wanted, right? The ponies behind the desk seemed less than organized...” Dash grimaced the face of 5 minutes spent searching for a factory label on a spool of yarn.
“Yes, I believe that’s the one. Let me have a look, would you?” She trotted briskly over to the pegasus. Rainbow unfastened her saddle bags and set them on the ground. As she did so, she looked over to Pinkie and Twilight, the former pushing mannequins to make space around the display stage and the latter holding up differently patterned streamers with her levitation.
“Hey Pinks. Twi. What are you guys doing here?” Rainbow asked, cocking an eyebrow.
“Hey Rainbow! We’re just helping Rarity set up for the big reveal tomorrow,” Twilight answered cheerfully, floating a line of streamers below a balcony.
“‘Reveal’?” Dash asked, her confusion merely worsened.
“Yeppity-doo,” Pinkie Pie tweeted excitedly, “Rarity has this amaaaaazing new line of dresses she’s been working on that she’s gonna reveal tomorrow! There’s gonna be lights and decorations and music and cake and—oh! We should have games and a swimming pool! It’s going to be ‘absolutely marvelous, darlings’, hahaha!” Pinkie snorted at her debatably accurate impression of Rarity. Rainbow and Twilight playfully rolled their eyes at Pinkie’s rambling while Rarity had already become too enthralled by Rainbow’s cargo to comment on the mimicry or suggestions.
“Pinkie, this is a little more formal than that,” Twilight informed, “meaning there will mostly be artists, models, designers, business ponies... They’re not really planning on getting their fancy suits wet. I don’t think games or a swimming pool would be appropriate.”
Pinkie, who had been pushing a mannequin against the wall opposite of Twilight, suddenly flailed back around to face her, knocking it over in the process and gasping dramatically with her front hooves planted on her cheeks. “WHAAAAT?! No games at a party?! These ponies are crazy, how could they have a party without games?! Are they scared of fun?!"
"Pinkie!" Rarity roused from her examination, "Do be careful with those; the heads dent easily!"
Pinkie whipped back around to the pile of naked dummies. "Oop! Sorry, haha!" she snorted, then promptly picked up the one she was previously pushing and dusted it off with her hoof. "But I can't believe there won't be any fun party stuff to do during the party."
"Of course there will be plenty for everyone to enjoy, Pinkie. Just not in the usual way that Ponyville's top party pony might do it," Twilight assured playfully.
“Heh, sounds fun,” Dash snickered. Seeing the assortment of decorations and displays near completion made her, for once, glad that she was delayed in completing a task since she had avoided potentially being stuck with the tedium of helping set it up. There ya go again, thinking like a great friend, Dash. She looked back to Rarity, who was flipping and extending rolls of thread, the strings straightening as she gave them slight tugs and the glossy texture shimmering under the boutique’s lights. Violet, fire red, steel blue, a parade of colors almost as vibrant as Rainbow’s mane. “Those look good to you, Rarity?”
“Yes, these are splendid! Thank you so much again for getting them—oh!” Rarity had refocused onto Rainbow and realized the water droplets resting on or dripping from the pegasus’ coat, barely audible splats emanating beneath her. “Oh Rainbow, you look like you’ve been positively soaked! How rude of me, let me get you something to dry off.”
Dash waved her hoof in denial, “Oh, it’s nothing, really. A little water never held these wings down.”
“Nonsense, I’ll go fetch you a warm towel and a rag for those bags. They already look worse for wear without mold in between the cracks,” Rarity asserted, levitating the now examined threads over to her worktable and the saddlebags onto the hook of a coatrack before trotting off toward her bedroom. Rainbow merely shrugged, accepting her ever-generous friend’s demand, and took a few slow steps forward while stretching then relaxing her back.
“Uh, thanks,” she chuckled.
“Was the weather that bad in Canterlot?” Twilight queried. “I heard there are big storms on their way to Ponyville tonight.”
“Eh, just some heavy rain. Wind, a little lightning, no biggie. The weather team did give us a big one for tonight, though,” Rainbow Dash answered.
“That sounds awful dangerous to be flying in, Rainbow. I’m glad you made it out okay.”
“Aw, pfft, you know who you’re talking to? I’ve flown through worse; a little storm isn’t anything,” Rainbow quelled proudly.
“Yes, of course... Still, you could’ve gotten seriously hurt. Try and take it easy, there’s no need for you to put your body on the line for some threads. Rarity can easily have those shipped with a one day delay,” Twilight countered with a friendly laugh overlaying her serious suggestion.
“Aww, good to know ya care, Twilight.” Dash brushed off yet was touched as always by her friend’s concern.
Rarity came trotting back into the room, levitating a neatly-folded towel with a small rag atop it. She floated the rag over to the hanging saddle bags and began wiping them down while unfolding the towel. "Here you are, let's get you a little more comfy. And to stop dripping all over my showroom floor, perhaps?" Rarity remarked. She then draped the towel over Dash's back, the pegasus grabbing hold of a corner with her right hoof.
"Yeah, yeah, thanks again, Rarity," Rainbow said, brushing the side of her head and mane with the corner of the towel. The toasty cotton absorbed the harsh cold layer of moisture filling her coat and dispersed the water in her sopping mane, replacing it with the luxurious lavender aroma that much of Rarity's apparel seemed to always be masked in. A more than minor sensation of warmth blanketed her in savory relief, but it was her muscles finally being loosened from their tense position which provided the most satisfaction.
“Say, we were actually just about to stop for tea. Why don’t you join us, Rainbow? I’m sure you could use the break after the long and arduous day you’ve had,” Rarity offered.
Rainbow mulled it over, heeding her still damp feathers and the cozy climate of the room. “Uuuh, sure, I can hang around for a bit,” she accepted.
“Lovely! I’ll go get the kettle running and you girls grab yourselves a seat.” Rarity retreated once again, humming a chipper tune to herself as she trotted into the kitchen. Dash spotted an old steel chair, its aquamarine coat heavily scuffed near the feet and holes lining the edge of the seat cushion. She swiftly lifted and glided it over to the large round table placed near the kitchen’s entryway. Twilight and Pinkie followed suit, Twilight with her own chair and Pinkie a short stool, which she plopped down to the right of Dash.
“Fi-na-lly! I’m in serious need of something sweet after all that. Pinkie doesn’t like running on an empty sugar tank!” Her puffy mane flopped as she bounced up and down in the seat.
“Right, I forget this is sugar deficient Pinkie Pie,” Twilight joked, “sugar surplus Pinkie Pie would have sorted all those statues in one hour instead of two, correct?”
“You got it! Give me a box of Applejack’s apple fritters, and I dare you to get Discord to stop me from getting all those puppies from over there to right there!”
“Wow, sounds like you might give Rainbow a run for her money,” Twilight remarked, looking to the blue mare.
“Well I doubt that,” Dash countered, smugly leaning back in the chair with her hoofs locked behind her head, “the Wonderbolts run all kinds of relay exercises all the time. Hoofing things off, taking it from A to B as fast as possible as a team is kinda one of our acrobatic fortes.”
“Just saying Dashie, you guys might be even faster if you put some more sugar in those icky 'protein shakes' you drink. And you'd feel much better having a sweet treat in your bellies.”
"I'll make sure to bring it up to Spitfire when she's examining our mid-season diet plans. Morale is always important," Dash winked at her bouncing friend. A brisk clopping approached from the kitchen and Rarity rounded the corner, a tray of teacups in her left hoof and a generously sized teapot shrouded in a light blue aura floating by her side. Wisps of steam slipped from its spout, mixing and mingling with the waves of magic surrounding the immaculate china.
"Sorry it took so long, girls. I need to get that stove fixed," Rarity griped. "I swear, the dials are horribly off from the actual temperature it's heated. It makes timing an utter nightmare."
"No worries, Rares," Dash reassured.
"As long as it’s as delectable as always!" Twilight furthered.
The teacups rose up from the tray and each was placed on the table in front of one of the four mares, followed by Rarity sliding the tray onto the center of the table. She then hovered the teapot over Twlight's cup and tilted it, the hot transparent liquid contained within now streaming out through the shiny lip. The cup filled smoothly with a satisfying glug. Twilight caught a quiet whiff of it as Rarity realigned the teapot and hovered it over to Pinkie's cup.
"Mmmm… That smells delightful, Rarity. It seems your finicky stove didn't hold you back one bit."
"Phew, that's quite a relief,” Rarity acknowledged gratefully.
The scrumptious beverage flowed out into Pinkie's cup, then over to Rainbow Dash's, and finally Rarity poured it into her own. The teapot then drifted slowly down and rested on the tray.
"Mm-mm-mm!" Pinkie murmured joyfully.
"Oooooh, that's easy on the nose," Dash fluttered.
Pleased with her friends' reactions, Rarity lifted her fragile receptacle and let the heat radiating from it wash over her face, similarly invigorated by its scent.
"Aaaah, good work today everyone," Rarity proudly proclaimed as each mare relaxed in their seats and began to enjoy their drinks.
Rainbow Dash grabbed the handle of the teacup between two of her wing feathers and raised it up to her muzzle, one hoof hovering carefully under the cup. She lifted the rim up to her lips and angled it slightly, letting the cup’s soothing contents pour into her mouth. Not only was the sweetness a pleasure but her nose’s now closer proximity to the heat source meant greater relief of the numbness it had gained traversing through the previously chilly and wet conditions. She may be an invincible Wonderbolt, but that didn’t mean she couldn't sit and enjoy a hot cup of tea every once in a while. Just not for too long or too often.
The rest of the mares seemed to be enjoying their beverages quite a lot as well.
“Yum! Wonderful as always, Rarity!” Pinkie affirmed.
“Hm, I am pleasantly surprised to say I agree, thank you,” Rarity replied. “I was worried it wouldn’t mix correctly.”
“Looks like you impressed yourself again. Just like you have with setting this whole event up,” Twilight said.
“Oh, you are too kind. Though yes, this has been quite the task getting it together, never mind that we still have to put it on tomorrow and hope everything runs smoothly. I think after this I might give myself a bit of a break, take on a few smaller projects.” In deep thought, she began gently tapping her cup’s side with the tip of her hoof. “Maybe accept commissions for luxury coats again...”
“Or costume for school plays," Twilight suggested. "Remember that tree outfit you made for Sandbar?"
"Oh my, don't remind me, haha! I had so much trouble balancing his branches, the poor colt looked like he would fall over any second." The four mares laughed joyfully, then settled back down and took some more sips, a circle of satisfied sighs filling the quiet.
"So, Rainbow Dash," Rarity raised her cup to her mouth as she turned kindly to the pegasus, "how was your trip to Canterlot?"
"Eh, like I said: fine. Storms are no big deal, just a lot of time wasted in the store. Why do you ask?" Dash responded suspiciously.
"Well it's just a lot of trouble for you personally to go through, and for an errand that I really could have taken care of myself later without much issue. You have a Wonderbolt performance coming up in a couple of weeks, training you need to catch up on, Scootaloo's buckball game you're helping her practice for..."
"So what, that means I can’t make a little flight to Canterlot to pick up threads?”
Twilight joined in, “It’s not that Rainbow; you seem to be taking so much on at the moment. There’s a whole lot of you jumping around, getting things done for everyone, and, worst of all, very little of you stopping a bit for a break to actually spend time with anyone. It’s almost like you’re intentionally making yourself as busy as possible for some reason.”
“We don’t want you to get burned out, Dashie,” Pinkie added, “we know you’re one tough pony but you’re still just one pony.”
“Someone’s gotta get that stuff done,” Dash proclaimed, maintaining a cool air about herself, “and nobody can do it more quickly or awesomely, so it might as well be me. It’s what I do: tackle whatever big problem somebody’s got in their way!”
“Sure, but,” Twilight continued, “not every problem can be solved with ‘radical maneuvers’ or busted through with a skillful application of force, Dash. We know you have a heart under that tough shell of yours. Don’t you ever try helping others with something you can’t athlete your way through?
“C’mon, Twilight, you know I’m really not the pony for that kind of job. That’s more your style, or Rarity’s or Fluttershy’s. Heck, have you seen how she talks to the animals that hang around her cottage? She probably has an animal friend for every problem you could think of.”
“We’re serious, Dash,” Rarity interjected in a concerned fashion, “if you keep pushing yourself like this, you’re going to get hurt. Like Twilight is saying, it’s okay to slow down and handle something that requires you to talk things through for once. In fact, I can’t even remember the last time you stuck around to have tea with us like this. I have to say, it has been quite long enough for me to miss it.”
Rainbow Dash, trying to brush off her friends’ worries without seeming too abrasive, looked to Pinkie, who had been a little less vocal than the other two mares. Rarity and Twilight did the same, their eyes signaling an urge for her to support their struggling case. The trio stared at Pinkie for a few seconds before the deafening silence jolted her from the long sip she was savoring. Her bright blue eyes shot up and wide open from her beverage, followed by the wet smack of her lips parting from the rim of the cup. She looked to Rainbow, then to Rarity, then to Twilight, then back to Rarity, and then back to Rainbow before she finally realized what she had failed to notice.
“Oh! I’m all out, haha! Rarity, could you pour me some more, please?” Pinkie said with her innocent, ever-bubbly grin.
With a face of stone and not a peep inching out of anyone’s mouths, Rarity obliged her.
“Girls, seriously, I’m fine,” Dash laughed lightly between her words in an attempt to lighten the situation, “You don’t need to worry about it. I know what I’m good at and what I’m amazing at, and I know just how to get it all done. Besides, I’m always up for any kind of challenge. Keeps me fired up and ready for action.”
“We believe you, darling,” Rarity relented, rolling her eyes teasingly.
She went ahead and cycled the teapot around the table, refilling every teacup before setting the pot back on the center tray.
“So the Wonderbolts,” Twilight shifted the topic somewhat, “you never have any calm, relaxing team activities?”
“Sure, sometimes we get together in the mess hall and play some cards. Fleetfoot’s a real cheater, though, so things can still get pretty heated between her and Spitfire,” Rainbow snickered in amusement at the thought.
“But there’s plenty of team bonding going on?” Twilight questioned.
“Oh yeah, we’re tight as can be! A well-oiled machine, I guess you would say... Or some other fancy metaphor that you’re fond of,” Dash stated, closing her eyes and taking a long sip of her drink.
“That’s fantastic! I’m glad you get to work with ponies you trust and enjoy the company of,” Twilight replied warmly.
“Aaah, yep! Best teammates in the world.”
“Do you ever hang out outside of the Wonderbolts?” Pinkie queried, leaning over a once again empty cup and nearer Dash.
Dash looked up to the ceiling as if trying to spot a bird flying overhead. She prodded her chin with the tip of her hoof and shifted her eyes to the side, burrowing through her mind for a response. “I mean, I helped Surprise pick out a new couch when we bumped into each other at the market one time.”
The other mares giggled a bit, both at the randomness of their friend’s response and in an attempt to counteract the disappointment they felt from what said response implied. Dash merely looked bewildered by their banter.
“That’s not what I’m asking, silly,” Pinkie clarified, “I mean do you go out and have fun somewhere? Just you and the girls — or the guys — and rock the town like the superstar Wonderbolts you are?”
“Or even meet for a nice chat like we’re doing now? Just for the fun of it?” Rarity suggested.
Dash leaned back in her seat and tucked one hoof in the pit of her foreleg, holding her teacup in the free hoof. Her gaze drifted down to the drink and she looked lackadaisically at it.
“No, we don’t really do that sort of thing. We keep it kinda professional for the most part. Don’t do much outside of actual Wonderbolt stuff. Or I don’t, at least.”
Still not satisfied with this answer, Rarity wondered further.
“Well are there any of your teammates whom you feel especially close to on a personal level, Dash? Somepony you have immense adoration for? Whom you can trust? And who sees you the same way?”
Dash continued to stare for a moment at the small cup, the delicate ceramic now clasped between her hooves. She slightly gyrated it, watching the fluid swirling against the interior sides of the receptacle, trace droplets of it remaining stuck to the inner rim. Steam was still ascending from it, bathing her face in a warm humid mask.
“Nah.... No, not really.”
Twilight forwent a drink once she registered Rainbow Dash’s reply. Nothing else slipped from the latter’s lips, only that simple yet confusing negation to Rarity’s more complicated question. Twilight and Pinkie turned to each other, a sudden gloom overlaying their expressions. Rainbow Dash was still glaring aimlessly at the hot drink held gently in her hooves, which left her oblivious to the sudden smirk that grew on Rarity’s face.
“Okay, if you say so, Dash,” Rarity stated, a mischievous tone in her voice and her eyebrow raised in a smug fashion, punctuated by a calm sip.
Rainbow Dash lifted her head back up to look at Rarity, her eyes now showing a glint of perplexity.
“Uh, what’s that supposed to mean?” she inquired, privy to Rarity’s sneaky inflection.
Rarity, not-so-subtly feigning ignorance, looked right back at Dash.
“Hm, what?”
“You heard me. The way you said that.”
“Oh, nothing! Except well...” Rarity began, taking a brief look and smirking at both Twilight and Pinkie Pie, who were also a little lost to what exactly she was up to, before continuing, “we’ve all been to the Wonderbolts headquarters.”
“Uh-huh,” Dash responded, one eye squinted in hesitant curiosity.
“And we’ve all met your wonderful teammates.”
“Uh-huh.”
“And we’ve seen how you are around them.”
“I don’t like where this is going.”
“Aaaand let’s just say we’ve seen you around a particular one...”
Dash leered intensely at Rarity and raised her eyebrow to match her now piqued desire for an answer.
“What are you getting at?” she asked slowly.
“Nothing, dear. Just that I think you’re a little more fond of a very specific someone than you let on.”
Dash’s eyes exploded from a beam of sour intrigue into a flare of shock, the bright irises engulfed in the white surrounding them. Simultaneously, Twilight and Pinkie finally recalled something, which might just be what Rarity was referring to. Turning their heads to Rainbow, their guess seemed almost undoubtedly correct.
“Heh, if I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were saying I... uuuhh...” Dash rasped as the thought fully engrained itself in her mind. An uncomfortable lump formed in the back of her throat. She would not internally acknowledge it, let alone out loud, but she also felt that she knew what Rarity was likely referring to.
“Hm, now that you mention it, Rarity,” Twilight chimed in, holding back a laugh, “I think I have noticed Rainbow around a certain teammate.”
“Ooooo, yeah I’ve seen her around one a lot too...” Pinkie Pie confirmed with a bounce of her eyebrows.
“Indeed. A rather handsome one at that, wouldn’t you agree, Dash?” Rarity goaded.
A faint red, a shade only mythically seen on her, was forming across Rainbow Dash’s face.
“Uuuuuuuuh... Huh?”
The other three mares laughed a bit at Rainbow’s shocked droning. They didn’t want her to be too uncomfortable, but couldn’t help having some fun teasing their friend in a way that just may yield joyful results. Dash continued to hold her expression of confused dread and became more flustered by their laughter. Once they calmed down, Rarity clarified.
“I’m saying you have your eyes on someone,” Rarity said slyly.
One might think the red of Rainbow Dash’s mane was somehow flooding into the blue of her cheeks. She looked up and down, at her friends, then the walls and the ceiling, a chaotic back and forth as she struggled to force out a response in her defense.
“Heheh, gee real funny, girls... A—as if I’d care to ‘have my eyes on’ anybody. Good one,” Dash stammered, trying to joke off the accusation and cling to what little sense of a chill exterior she still had.
“Oh, of course not anybody. Just one...” Rarity said.
Dash fidgeted and writhed in her seat, her armor of bravado becoming more brittle by the second. She knew Rarity’s ways well, but her curiosity kept pushing her to follow along, believing that this annoyance will be over in a flash if she just humored it.
“Psh, oh yeah? Have you even met me?! Y—you all know I hate that kind of stuff! That’s what this is about, isn’t it? You think I’ve been getting all distracted and weak in the knees over someone. Well sorry to disappoint, but that isn’t happening...” Dash darted her eyes between each of them, a small bead of sweat forming on her brow. Then she thought to ask something that might be her undoing. “Just outta curiosity, w—who is it you think?...” Dash tried to ask before immediately realizing that she very much did not want to hear whatever was the answer to that question.
The other three mares turned to each other, triumphant smirks adorning their faces. Then Rarity shuffled closer and stared intently at Rainbow Dash. Dash felt something heavy rising up her chest, her tongue drying, and her joints quaking as Rarity was about to speak. Savoring the last few precious seconds before she rolled out the answer, Rarity looked Dash directly in the eye and answered.
“Soarin.”
Like a thunderbolt to a tree, that word struck Dash and split her straight down the core. This was it, after the years she had spent defining herself as the unbreakable daredevil, the never-say-die athlete, Equestria’s top flier and hero who never backed down from danger and adventure. To her, this was a slap to the face of it all. She had her sensibilities, yes, but she never thought of this. Not the idea of being tied down to someone. The notion of such a thing was largely intangible to her and seemed to contradict her very lifestyle.
Her face burned the brightest red a non-red pony was capable of, a beacon to her friends that their advances had finally gone through to her. She was silent for a moment, her shattered mind struggling to fully process this information, this grave realization that she had nowhere to hide, nothing to fall back on. It didn’t make sense; she had made no effort to express anything and she certainly wasn’t the type of pony to engage in any sort of courting or flirtatious behavior. The thought of doing such a thing made her stomach heave. Did it somehow show through? No matter careful I was? Or are they just making this up to mess with me? How do I know this is even real? Tell me I’m laid back in my bed, dozed off reading Daring Do. Please tell me this is all some stupid bad dream Luna’s giving me for skipping Nightmare Night last year!
Dash snapped out of her head and back to the room. Her friends beamed at her with jubilant eagerness, awaiting an answer to Rarity’s confrontation. Dash still looked stupefied, her mouth hung agape as the maelstrom of thought stormed in her head for that moment it took to fully register what she heard. When it did so, she was able to take a shallow breath and try to speak.
“Uuuuuhhh...”
"Ooooooooo, Dashie has a cruuuuuush!" Pinkie squealed enthusiastically.
“W—what?! No!” Dash exclaimed, setting one hoof along with the teacup down firmly on the table and frantically waving in denial with the other, “No, nononono, no way! No, I dunno what game you're playing, but that is not—I—th—that’s crazy!”
Rarity tilted her nose down and perked her eyebrows up at Dash, the unicorn's taunting expression relaying a thorough rejection of Dash's claims.
“No, you’re being ridiculous! He’s just a teammate! A—an awesome teammate, nothing more!”
"Dash, it's really not hard to tell," Twilight remarked.
“Hmmmmph!” Rainbow Dash merely grunted and leered at Twilight, feeling owed more support to that claim.
"The way you gawk at him," Twilight narrated like she was reading an excerpt from a poem, "that pull in your wings when you hear his voice, that sway when you walk past him. And do I even need to say what your face looks like right now?”
"Don’t forget your standing next to him all the time," Rarity added. "You're not always the most mindful of boundaries, but I swear, you seem to go out of your way to get just a few teensy inches closer to Soarin when you can."
"And your laugh, haha!" Pinkie chortled, "you’ve never giggled more than when you're around Soarin. Either he has some funny secret I should know or you got the hots for him."
Rainbow Dash planted her face into her hooves, pitifully groaning into them. She was at a loss as to why the very ponies she did trust and value most in the world were now interrogating her about such a silly yet stressful topic. Seriously, her having feelings for someone, a fellow Wonderbolt nonetheless? Dash couldn't buy it with herself, but now she had her friends' prying further complicating the matter. She almost wished she had denied Rarity's offer and simply flew home. She could be kicking back with a book in one hoof and a cool glass of cider in the other, not burying her face in an attempt to hide her frustration.
"To be fair Dash, we had our doubts too," Twilight tried to relieve some of Rainbow's embarrassment. “It sounds a little farfetched to say out loud, but picturing you ever gaining feelings for someone was difficult. Rarity and her keen eye for this sort of thing were the only reason the rest of us even noticed. But once she pointed it out, it was kind of hard not to see it."
Dash slowly rotated her head back up to face them, resting her chin on her hooves.
"What gave it away," Rarity explained, "was when I saw you speaking with him. There's this level of color in your eyes. The luster, the gleam, the burning passion. I've only ever seen that level of invigoration in you when you're rocketing across the sky with the Wonderbolts. But when you're down on the ground with that stallion, oh darling, you look like you're gliding!" she cooed enthusiastically, getting carried away in her romantic tirade.
Dash simply scowled more, her face still tomato red and eyes averted to the side. As deeply as she cared for her friends, she never hated it more than when they were correct about something which she so desperately wanted them to be wrong about. Respecting this fact, Twilight thought to give Dash something a little more palpable to address.
"Look, Rainbow, even if you won't admit you like him, maybe you can admit you get a kick out of looking at him."
"I. Do. Not," Dash growled through gritted teeth.
"Really? I have."
That pulled Dash's leer back to her.
"I mean look at that stallion fly!" Twilight made a looping flying motion with her hoof for emphasis. "Obviously all of you are the best in Equestria, but there's a reason he's second-in-command. I don't even need to be a Wonderbolt to recognize that!“
Unfortunately for what she was previously claiming, Dash found herself agreeing wholeheartedly with Twilight's case. Every time Soarin was out there, it was a spectacle. The twists and flips he could pull off both in single flight and in formation was incredible. While she had plenty of her own tricks to dazzle and amaze, she had found herself marveling at some of the maneuvers he performed, in awe of the sight and wondering if and when she would learn how to perform those very moves herself. His longer experience and training in the Wonderbolts compared to her own clearly gifted him a remarkable knowledge of more complex aerial movements. But that was far from any cause for physical infatuation.
"And as for Soarin himself. Well, that smile, those bright green eyes, that toned Wonderbolt physique. A lot of mares would love to be in a close position to such a handsome stallion, Dash," Twilight encouraged teasingly.
Now there Twilight goes with that word, Dash thought bitterly. But she had a point. As Twilight gave out her description, Dash pictured him. Those warm eyes, that calming smile, his rugged mane and sleek frame, all of it. She'd be lying if she said she hadn't noticed. At the least, there were far worse things to look at after a hard training exercise.
She remembered the first time they met face-to-face at the Gala. The neat way he wore his tie while in dress uniform and the sloppy yet endearing enthusiasm he had for that pie. She had never seen any pony like him. So sharp and strong-looking, yet so playful and approachable. A bit clumsy, even. Not quite what she pictured in a high-ranking Wonderbolt at that time. She didn't even register that her expression was softening, her brow unfurrowing and formerly pursed mouth relaxing.
"I... Ugh, dammit,” Dash rolled her eyes. She lifted her head from her hooves, straightened her posture up and dropped her hooves back down on the table.
The others smiled giddily, witnessing her indirect admission of defeat. Dash sighed.
"Okay, fine... I'll admit he is a pretty good-looking guy," she relented.
Twilight, Rarity, and Pinkie all giggled like school fillies, pleased to hear Rainbow Dash finally admitting something that had been weighing on her mind. Twilight felt like patting herself on the back like she had just won a tough round of chess, but figured it would be best to save the celebration for later after they had finished speaking with Dash.
“But that doesn’t mean anything,” Dash said, pushing out her chair and sauntering a few feet away from the table. As she did so, she caught a glance out the window of the boutique. It had gotten noticeably darker in the time since she arrived and there seemed to be the lightest droplets of drizzle on the glass. She then began pacing slowly in front of the table.
“It’s just a little eye candy, that’s it. I mean, you said it yourself, Twilight; who wouldn’t like having that? It doesn’t mean I want to go anywhere with it, though.”
“Really?” Twilight said sarcastically.
“I want to say ‘no’, but I get the feeling you’re gonna tell me why I’m wrong.”
“Wrong. I’ll let the expert herself take care of that,” Twilight winked at Rarity. She proceeded to return to her tea and let the aforementioned expert work her magic.
“You flatter me, darling. Rainbow Dash,” Rarity began as she made another round of the table with the teapot, “tell me what it is you like about Soarin. As a friend, a companion. Beyond that striking exterior and those mesmerizing flying abilities.”
“You mean his personality?” Dash looked down at the floor, entrenched in thought. She started musing the royal wedding in Canterlot. His reaction upon first recognizing her from the Gala, the conversation that followed, and the dance after that. For a member of the group she had practically worshipped her entire life, he was surprisingly easy to talk to. He cracked jokes, he laughed, he asked questions, he answered questions, just like any other pony. As she witnessed with his pie drop, he even had his share of silly blunders just like her and the recruits at the Academy. In fact, he was rather dorky upon first impression. But he was her first glimpse into the Wonderbolts behind the extravagant posters and shiny flight suits, the fallible pegasi which personified the legend of the group. Somehow, that made her revere them even more.
“Um... He’s nice. Really nice actually. Probably the coolest pony I know in the ‘Bolts.”
“Oh?” Rarity perked up, along with Twilight and Pinkie beside her.
“Yeah. Always super friendly, laid-back, makes sure everyone is doing alright, jokes around. Honestly, he’s kind of a goofball.” Dash let out a soft chuckle.
Pleased with this change in inflection, Rarity levitated Rainbow’s cup over to her as she paced. She grabbed it with her wing without skipping a step.
“Scratch that, he’s a huge goofball. One time we were performing in Fillydelphia and he forgot to pack his flight suit, so he showed up in this cheap Wonderbolt Nightmare Night outfit he bought from some shady costume shop. There were rips all over it and the goggles looked like he stuck tin cans to his face.” Dash laughed a little louder and more comfortably. “Oh, another time, he was showing some recruits the Double Corkscrew Dipdown and dipped down a little too low. The dude went plunging right into one of the cloud barriers and got his head stuck. When they yanked him out, he had himself a pretty nice cloud mustache and fancy hat. He didn’t notice, so he gave the rest of the lesson looking like one of those old timey business ponies!” She laughed once again, more joyfully now with a wide smile on her face. “And don’t even get me started on when we saw each other at Twilight’s brother’s wedding. He may be a good flier but that stallion can’t dance to save his life, bahahaha!”
Her friends marveled at Dash’s apparent transformation in mood. Within just a few moments, focusing on Soarin had eased her exasperation, a change which Dash fortunately seemed to have not noticed. She did, however, finally notice how parched she was from a moment ago. She took a short drink and continued down her train of thought.
“Don’t let that fool you, though. He works harder than any one of us.”
“Does he now?” Rarity said.
Dash kept her head down, her smile still present but more subdued than during her comedic anecdotes.
“Yeah, he’s the only one I’ve never seen skip a training exercise. He’s always out there, on time and ready to give it a hundred and ten percent. Doesn’t matter if we’re prepping for our biggest show of the season or it’s just another Tuesday, he wants each and every pony in top shape.” She took another quick swig of her tea. “Sure, I’m definitely the best flyer overall, but sometimes I wish I was always as motivated in every part of our job as Soarin. Even when he’s not out flying, he’s working on these mountains of paperwork for Spitfire. Usually at least half of that stuff she doesn’t even need done yet or she can do herself, but he gets it all finished lickety-split just so she can focus on more important things, even if he stays up all night doing it. I’m guessing that’s why he has those bags under his eyes half the time.” Dash shook her head. “That’s the thing about Clipper: he’s always looking out for everyone, making sure we have anything we could need. Takes real good care of the newbies, too. Helps make them feel welcomed, shows them the ropes around protocol and organization and all that stuff. I was one of those newbies not too long ago, so I should totally know.”
Dash raised her head up and looked straight onward. There was a proud air building up inside her breast. She was used to feeling pride, in herself, her accomplishments, what she stood for. But this was an unusual, foreign type of pride that she didn’t fully understand.
“Soarin always puts the team, his friends, first. Doesn’t matter what the cost is to himself. I... I’m sure you guys can get why I find that... really awesome.”
Dash halted dead midstep, her right foreleg causing a subtle clop as it dropped slowly down to the cold hard floor. She stared into nothing, a heightened color in her eyes. A luster, a gleam, a burning passion.
Her friends were pleasantly astonished; while it was far from a direct admission, the detail with which Dash expressed her form of admiration exceeded what any of them expected. Her eloquently blunt speech forced Rarity to battle her urge to burst out of her seat, the magnitude of exhilaration being too great to contain in one pony’s body.
The silence that followed her last statement jerked Dash out of her mental drifting. She snapped her head over to her friends, being greeted to each beaming adoringly. She then realized the smile that had overtaken her own face and shook it off in an effort to reassume her defensive position which had been gravely ruptured.
“Uh—Um, what was I saying?” Dash moaned, her old nervous demeanor returning.
“Wow, Rainbow Dash! I don’t think I’ve ever heard you speak so highly of someone other than yourself,” Twilight proclaimed. “Even then—“
“Hey, don’t get any ideas! Just ‘cause I said he’s an awesome guy doesn’t mean—“
“Are you hearing yourself?!” Pinkie questioned vehemently and pointed a hoof at Dash, “I’ve heard you say ‘awesome’ a bunch of times before, including a second ago, but you said a lot more than just ‘awesome’!”
Rarity looked as if she would shatter to fragments, clutching her mouth to refrain from utterly screaming in jubilance. Noticing this, a minor dread grew in Rainbow as she anticipated another incoming remark, this time from the ecstatic unicorn.
“Does the ‘expert’ want to throw in her two bits?” Dash asked sarcastically.
Recomposing herself, Rarity released her mouth from the vice grip. She cleared her throat and stood up dignifiedly from her seat, commanding the attention of every pony in the room.
“Rainbow Dash, it is my professional opinion that you are smitten by this stallion.”
“For the love of Celestia!” Rainbow shouted in irritation and crashed her hoof into her face. “C’mon, Is it really so hard to believe I could admire a stallion for being a good flyer and teammate without wanting to make it weird?”
"When you're so irritated by it, yes,” Rarity responded crisp and matter-of-factly. “It's as I was saying before, there’s something unique about the way you respond to him. And like Twilight said, I have never, ever heard you speak of another individual with such splendor.”
“What, you think I never say good things about you guys?”
“Yes but we’re your best friends, you’re supposed to do that,” Rarity waved her foreleg dismissively. “I highly doubt anyone is expecting you to voice such praise for a coworker.”
“Let alone call him ‘good-looking’,” Twilight snorted.
The blush began to return to Rainbow Dash’s face. Realizing the futility of her protests, Dash exhaled sharply and tried to think of some way she could rationalize her point as much as was physically possible for her. Well, he's not just a coworker; he's my superior in rank. Not that that means all that much—wait! She suddenly found her lifeline.
“Okay, let’s pretend I do have feelings for Soarin, and I’m not saying I do, you hear me?” Dash eyed Rarity. “But let’s just say I do in some alternate universe Discord conjured up. There are a million and one reasons why it would be a terrible idea to even consider chasing that. There are all sorts of rules that we’d be in serious danger of breaking, especially involving relationships between officers and enlisted airponies." She could tell she was making a valid argument now. But she couldn’t understand why the words choked her as they came out. "That and I just became a full-fledged Wonderbolt.” Dash’s voice became less flustered and more melancholy, her ears drooping down like decayed flora. “To ruin all of it after everything I did to get this far, and only over some stallion I might make a stupid face over every now and then? There’s just no way in Equestria you could get me to do that. Never in a hundred moons. Not to mention I... don't know the first thing about having that kind of relationship anyways.”
The light in the room fell. The evening sun which had before been intruding through the windows now had half its body set beneath the horizon and another quarter covered by grim black clouds. The yellow rays which once danced overhead and kissed the shimmering floor of the boutique had been laid to rest, never to be seen until the star greeted the inhabitants again. Shrouded in darkness, the collection of dazzling dresses and suits which hung on racks and model ponies were drained of their sheen, their flare trapped from any and all who could witness it.
Rainbow Dash’s friends looked to each other, unsure how exactly to react, let alone consul their conflicted friend. “Dashie...” Pinkie tried to get her to look up at her, the bubbly mare struggling to formulate something to raise Dash’s spirits, but failing to achieve a solution. Twilight was just as aimless, juggling the ideas of apologizing for misunderstanding her reasoning or forcing an abrupt change in topic, neither of which would really improve the situation. Rarity, however, started to regret what she had done, egging Dash on like that; she couldn’t help but feel she had pushed too far, leading Dash to share something she had every intention to keep to herself and would’ve without Rarity’s urging, causing Dash to be as somber as she was now. Perhaps she got carried away with her excitement over Rainbow Dash potentially taking a romantic interest in someone, in addition to such sorts of topics being a natural guilty pleasure. Regardless, this was supposed to be a relaxing evening for each of them to let off steam after such a busy period of work. Instead, she feared she had turned it into an interrogation.
“So don’t,” Rarity stated.
Rainbow shot her gaze back up to her. Rarity walked around the table, over to Dash, and put one hoof gently on her shoulder. She looked her calmly in the eye. Rarity’s expression was no longer one of provocative curiosity but genuine, tender compassion, one she displayed almost as well as Fluttershy when necessary.
“D—don’t what?” Dash asked, confused.
“Don’t make it ‘weird’ if you don't feel the need to,” Rarity stated directly.
Dash was dazed, Rarity’s order seeming to contradict the point of this entire exchange.
“Rainbow Dash, you have no reason to put yourself on the line for something you don’t believe worth the risk. You know that because you do it every day you put on that flight suit.” Dash’s ears steadily rose to their usual perky position. “I hope I’m not speaking out of turn for Twilight and Pinkie Pie, but we know how much you care deeply for your reputation and the reputation of your team, now with the Wonderbolts and in the past with the weather patrol. And we know the immeasurable amount of time, sweat, blood, tears, and hard work you put into achieving what you have and have yet to achieve. But we are also well aware of how rough you can be on yourself to sustain that feeling of success.” Dash broke eye contact again, looking back down to the floor. “You fear that we or anyone else will see you as weak or incapable or, Celestia forbid, ‘uncool’. All that worries us is you letting that fear control you. That it will keep you from doing what is best for you. You have every right to keep something to yourself, even from us, if you don’t feel right in sharing it. Don’t ever think you have to explain yourself or we’ll judge you for how you feel because we will always, always be behind you. But whatever you do or don’t do, it needs to be because it feels right here.” She laid her hoof in the center of Rainbow’s chest. “That is what you should be listening to, not whatever silly voice is in your head telling you that you’re going to be viewed as less awesome for the rest of your life. Being held back doesn't suit you one bit.”
Rainbow Dash took a brief gander at Twilight and Pinkie Pie. Both were nodding warmly in agreement with Rarity, which Dash took a mental note of before looking back down.
“But... Darling, look at me.” Rarity lightly put her hoof under Dash’s chin and pulled her up to face her nose-to-nose, reapplying direct eye contact. “But I will tell you: you may not be able to explain it, but there is something unique about Soarin. It’s like you’re a different pony when he’s around. As if there is some effect he has that brings out something marvelous in you, and I don’t just mean your ability to turn as red as Big Macintosh. Even if you truly have no desire to take it anywhere romantic, we’ve learned plenty of times how putting effort into friendship with someone can yield all sorts of amazing results. And personally, I’m very excited to see what it is you can do with that in this case. Please, allow yourself to see what it is too, okay?“ She gave a tender smile to Rainbow Dash and let go of her chin.
Dash inhaled deeply and let out a long breath. Here one of her friends was still, being right about something she wouldn’t admit herself. Only this time at least she heard something that was more soothing than frightening. She plodded a couple steps over to the table and set her right hoof on top of it, her countenance remaining somewhat somber but becoming more optimistic than a moment ago.
“Look. I know what you guys are trying to do. And it means a lot. For real, there’s no one else I’d rather talk to about this stuff and I don’t know what I’d do without you. But like I said earlier, I’m perfectly fine. Everything’s going great in the ‘Bolts and I feel more motivated than ever. I’m just... finding my place on the team, I guess. Now I got my hoof in the door, I gotta find where exactly I fit in with everyone else and prove I belong there, y’know?” She forced a smile to try and further alleviate their concerns. “And hey, look on the bright side; apparently I’ve got myself a friend on the team who I can rely on if I need it.”
"Hm, it sounds like you do, dear," Rarity hummed kindly.
“That’s the spirit, Dash,” Twilight added.
Dash gave a silent assuring nod to all of them.
Seeing her friend returned to being in relatively good sorts, Rarity walked briskly around the table and toward her seat. “Alright, I’d say that’s enough of that. It’s getting quite late, but if anyone would like some more tea, it will be my pleasure to get another batch going.”
Twilight and Pinkie smiled in approval of Rarity’s offer but awaited Dash to answer as well.
“Eh, why not?” she replied, sounding back to her normal easygoing self.
“Splendid, I’ll be right back with some more,” Rarity acknowledged cheerfully, lifting the teapot and turning to walk back to the kitchen.
Dash smoothly pulled her seat in and sat down, leaning back with her legs crossed.
“Tank’s got plenty of food and it’s not like I have to be up for any more errands tomorrow. Got everything all taken care of toda—wait... SHOOT!”
Dash’s pupils shrank to the size of specks. The others were startled by her sudden realization, Rarity stopping and turning around halfway to the kitchen to see what was the cause of the pegasus’ fuss.
“What’s wrong?” Twilight asked, perplexed.
“I almost forgot!” Dash leapt from her seat and bolted over to her saddlebags. She lifted one of the exterior side flaps and looked inside the small compartment, spotting a thin tan envelope with a mailing sticker displaying the address of the Wonderbolts headquarters. She pulled it out and ran her hoof over it cautiously, relieved to feel no hint of water having damaged it. “I’ve gotta deliver this to Spitfire’s office! We need it if we’re gonna perform in Manehatten in a couple weeks!”
“Can’t it wait until tomorrow?” Pinkie questioned, beckoning her to stay longer.
Dash swiftly slipped the envelope back into its compartment, buckled up the leather flaps, and yanked her bags off of the rack.
“I wish, but Spitfire needs this at her desk by tomorrow morning.” She threw the saddlebags over her back and pulled hard on the strap with her wing, fastening the bags tightly to her midsection. “I gotta get these to HQ tonight.”
“Well at least let me get you something hot to take with you!” Rarity insisted.
“There’s no time, I gotta get over there ASAP.” She flapped back over to the seat and pushed it in under the table. “Well this was fun, girls, but duty calls.” She started making her way to the door at a rapid pace.
“So long, Dashie! Stay dry!” Pinkie waved in a chipper but slightly disappointed manner.
“Take care, Dash. We better see you at the show tomorrow!” Twilight kindly ordered.
“You betcha!” Dash winked, her hoof set on the door handle. “Thanks for the teatime, Rarity!”
“Anytime, darling!” Rarity responded. “Say hi to Soarin for me!”
Dash rolled her eyes and chuckled before pulling the door open. Her friends thoughtfully watching her departure, she launched out of the boutique and up and away from the vacant town square, leaving a streak of color behind her. As she ascended, she took one last look back at the boutique and wiped her brow in disconcerted relief. “Yeah, that’s the last time I’m gonna stop for tea for a while.”
Dash rose high into the air above Ponyville and leveled out as she was greeted by the familiar cool wind stream. Narrowing her eyes, she set herself in the direction of her destination and with a powerful thrust of her wings, she rocketed off toward Cloudsdale, thunder rolling behind her.
Author's Note
I want to apologize to any who were awaiting this next chapter for what felt like longer than it should’ve been. I’ve had a lot going on as of late, including other projects unrelated to writing, which of course took time away from my working on this. I like to take my time with my writings if I can and I certainly don’t want it to feel like an obligation to work on, otherwise that will impact the joy and passion that should go into this as well as the final quality of it.
I also wanted all of you to know that I’m very much enjoying creating this fic and I appreciate you taking the time to read it and all of the kind words I’ve received. Submitting the first chapter alone has done wonders for me creatively, in ways I never expected from taking the time to make what is ultimately a silly little shipfic inspired by a wonderfully made image I stumbled upon on Derpibooru. 
Anyways, I present to you the next chapter of “Teammates”! Enjoy!
More Than an Errand Pony
A slower pony might have feared the raging torrent overtaking the sky, but Dash, her persistently competitive spirit relishing any sort of challenge, viewed it as granting some sort of excitement to an otherwise wearisome task. Swiveling her head to check her flank, Dash could tell she was clearly a good many miles ahead of the storm, the colors she trailed behind her blocking out most of the black clouds beyond. Even in her drained state, she had made child’s play of outrunning nature itself, proving even the world was no match for her ability. The thought crossed her mind, but she brushed it aside in amusement for its honest absurdity. As impressive as her ego was, she wasn’t delusional. At least a little less so than she used to be.
Truthfully, she was trying to occupy her thoughts with any ridiculous thing she could muster, her head still reeling from the events of the boutique. Those efforts in vain, snippets of the conversation had been flashing in her mind ever since she left, each processed and reflected on in matters of microseconds. The previously incomprehensible embarrassment, the fact she let herself get so flustered over something so trivial in the first place, and the fact that her friends even thought of prodding at this topic. It was all very straightforward; she was there, she witnessed and experienced it herself not even an hour ago. Why was there this ominous dreamlike quality to the memory? As if she had been caught in sleep paralysis and forced to watch a horror story unfold before her eyes, helpless to stop it? These and the many obvious thoughts that could be expected after such a gossip session.
She realized her contemplations leading nowhere. “Good Celestia, what is wrong with me?” she groaned to herself, holding the side of her head with one hoof and shaking it in hopes of clearing it. She tried breathing in another gust of air, but it had become warm and heavy, a sign of the bitter weather bearing down on her. Greeted by this rejection of relief, her mental slump persisted.
Either its speed was picking up or she was slowing down, but she could feel the humid atmosphere of the storm beginning to catch up with her. Most likely, her musing had caused her to drift, lowering her speed and allowing the storm to gain ground on her position. Fortunately, it proved irrelevant as she could now make out the large insignia of a winged lightning bolt attached to the side of a large building. Straining her eyes a bit more under the scant light conditions, she could read the words “Wonderbolts Administrative Center” below it in a bold gray font. The sight of her objective pulled Dash out of her contemplative haze, enabling her to focus on the impressive floating structure in her path. Regaining the strength in her wing flaps, she flew eagerly forward to it.
With her head somewhat cleared, she let out a labored sigh and took the rest of her flight time to recompose herself. “Okay, don’t get so worked up over it, Dash. That was weird and... kinda scary if I’m honest, but it certainly isn’t anything to lose sleep over. You can either waste time wondering about all this stuff and driving yourself crazy or you can do what you wanted to do to begin with: chalk it up to being tired and delirious with everything going on right now. Yeah, just admit it, you’re a little loopy, and need something to help you refocus on what really matters. And right now, that’s getting this delivered to Spitfire and heading home. Phew... Alright, attagirl.” She relaxed her shoulders for the first time in ages and glided gracefully toward the proud building.
Passing through a security checkpoint occupied by one pony snoozing with a magazine over their face, she landed at the top of the stone steps before the entrance of the building. Taking a moment to slack her wings, she looked up at the towering face of the administrative center. Seeing that bright lightning bolt with the grand wings adorning it always instilled a shot of bravery and motivation in her, even if the air outside was depressingly muggy. But tonight, she decided she’d rather have the slow wash of slumber poured over her by a smooth, cushy mattress, and she moseyed on in through the door.
The inside of the building was even darker than outside, not that Dash was surprised; it was about two hours past normal operating hours. Every office, break room, and hallway was pretty much entirely unlit. Not a single hoofstep echoed across the hard walls, nor even a drip from leaky faucets. All she heard besides her own hooves against the floor was the low metallic hum of the AC system vibrating above her.
If she hadn’t been in the building enough times to memorize the path to Sptifire’s office, Dash likely would have been fumbling in the dark trying to determine the right corridor, and then the right flight of stairs, and then the right corridor after that until she, hopefully, came across the doorway with a plaque saying “Capt. Spitfire” plastered next to it. Luckily, her memory chose to be valuable in this instance and she knew that from the entrance it was only one flight of stairs and a left turn away.
She kept walking slowly past the desk and toward the right set of stairs, the clop of her hooves reverberating and being absorbed into the darkness of the halls. “Looks like everyone’s already headed out. This place is dead as can be,” she whispered. Though she wouldn’t admit to a fear of the dark, she did find the surroundings a tad eerie. Seeing the normally bustling center of leadership completely vacant, quiet, and under a lack of light gave it an almost wholly new identity. The distant cracks of lightning that flashed through the windows didn’t help soften the atmosphere either.
Dash proceeded up the steps steadily, placing each hoof with careful precision as she ascended in order to avoid an embarrassing stumble in the near-pitch-black.
Upon reaching the desired floor, all that greeted Dash was more darkness. The shroud of night intent on drowning her, she stalked through it like a cat watching anxiously for danger. What she was moving so apprehensively for, she was not certain of. Perhaps the long corridors reminded her of the time she traversed a haunted mansion with Applejack, which birthed an instinctual disgust with such surroundings, especially if she was caught in it alone. This would definitely be a less bothersome trek had she another party to converse with.
Scanning the plaques near the passing doorways, she reassured that she was headed along the right course by the order she spotted names. “Maj. Fleetfoot”, “Meeting Room”, “Sgt. Maj. High Winds.” Unless everyone’s offices had been moved since last Monday, she was indeed moving in the right direction. Yeah, minus the slightly spooky atmosphere, this place is just as boring and bland as I remember. How is it even the leaders of the Wonderbolts have a big soul-sucking building to work in? Must come with the job. If that’s case, I hope I never get “honored” with such a promotion. Dash contemplated with a scowl. Would much rather not spend every moment outside shows and training being suffocated by gray walls, thank you very much.
She approached the t-intersection at the end of the hall and bent herself leftward, rounding the corner in front of another large window which gave a panorama of the lashing electricity outside. At least Spitfire’s office is on the more open side of the building. Definitely has the best view, she noted. Indeed, the building had a sort of duality between the far side where the Captain resides and the entrance. It was as if the walls were more intrusive and compressed the nearer one got to the entrance. Closer to the Captain’s office, they not only receded but opened up to unveil the larger complex that is the Wonderbolts home base from a stunning vantage point. “Hm, least it’s not all bad,” she muttered, surveying the impressive dark structures floating outside the window.
Feeling she could breathe a tad more easily, she gave a light huff as she at last recognized Spitfire’s door to the right a little ahead of her. The Captain’s office was extra distinguishable thanks to its door bearing the most intricate design, that of a mass of dark blue wisps streaked across it and the wall surrounding the doorframe. Jackpot. A great relief took hold and nudged her forward just a bit more briskly in anticipation of her task’s conclusion. As if rushing her to move along faster, and to revert the minuscule expression of ease on her face, an explosive crash of lighting erupted outside the window, close enough, or at least loud enough, to jolt Dash forward more dramatically in fright. Besides the slight shame from being startled by such a simple thing, it reminded her again that she couldn’t yet relax; she was still in competition with the storm to get home before it reached its most severe state. “Yep, okay, in and out.”
Making visual contact with the door handle, she approached, set her hoof on the handle, and steadily pushed it open, instinctively poking her head into and scanning the office. Just waltzing casually into the boss’ space was unnatural to her, so despite knowing there was no Spitfite around to be bothered, Dash still felt the need to check before entering. As expected, it was every shade as dark as the rest of the building, and then some, but she had gotten sufficient enough of a look to comfortably enter.
She pushed the door open wider and stepped through the entryway. Her eyes jerked down at the sound of a wooden board squeaking under the weight of her leg. “Ugh... Yeah, don’t like that”, she whined quietly to herself. Nevertheless, she put forward another leg and walked slowly toward a wide desk near the back of the room. She swiveled her head around the space, in awe at the chaotic assortment of papers, folders, and other office supplies. To her left against the wall were rows and columns of steel drawers, some sealed closed and others flung open, revealing further rows of papers sorted inside them. On the desk were towers of paper, stacks stacked upon each other, in fact. Around them, both on the desk and the floor, were more documents strewn about haphazardly. To her right were shelves, some sporting photos, others lines of various trophies and medals, several of which were crookedly oriented or sloppily hung from the wall. “Sheesh, boss, ever tried cleaning this place up? Might wanna get yourself a maid.”
Dash stopped a couple feet in front of the desk and opened up the side compartment of her bag to pull out the envelope. The clutter confounding her, she looked for some sort of mailbox or folder with a clear label to set the thin packaging in, but to her aggravation, none such vessel caught her eye. “Can never be easy, can it? I can’t just plop this down anywhere; it’ll probably get lost in all of this stuff.” She had no desire to risk rummaging through the delicately sorted mess in hopes of finding something obvious to place it in. Then she thought of the chair residing behind the pile, peeking at it and almost surprised it wasn’t occupied by paperwork as well. “Meh, just leave it there. Kinda hard to miss when she sets her flank in it every day”. She reached across and plopped the envelope down in the center of the burgundy leather seat. “Boom. Done and done,” she proclaimed, followed by a relieved sigh. Whipping back around in accomplishment, she trotted to the exit of the room, watching her hooves so as not to step carelessly on any of the delicate debris splayed across the floor.
Heading back out into the hallway, she glided her wing through the loop of the door handle and pulled the door shut tight with a deep thud. Shaking and stretching her wings, her back popped and loosened, Dash gave another satisfied breath as she turned to face back the route she came. “Alright, now let’s get back home before that storm decides to get worse.” In truth, she was almost certain that the worst of it either had already or soon would reach Ponyville, but her hope was that she could take a convenient detour around the cloud cell and reach home while it was in a soaked state of calm. This was largely a matter of luck, but regardless, she thought it better to be in bed sooner rather than later.
Just as she was about to step forward, however, a sudden burst of sound intensely startled her, her wings flaring and chest fur fluffing in shock. She instinctively flicked her head to face the rear, in the direction of the disturbance, eyes peering like searchlights. Due to it’s frighteningly unexpected nature, Dash was unable to process what the sound might be, let alone what caused it. It clearly wasn’t thunder; it was both not nearly loud enough and much to close, definitely somewhere within the building. It sounded like it came from just around the corner and echoed off the wall behind her, in fact. Unfreezing, Dash turned her whole body around to face the other end of the hall. What in the hay was that? She inched a bit forward before catching herself. Wait. Gosh, stop freaking out over every little thing, just keep heading-. Her thought was ceased by another burst of sound, same as the first. This time, now that she was alert, she could hear it a bit more clearly. She still couldn’t identify the disturbance, but whatever it was sounded like there might be a voice behind it.
Dash walked forward apprehensively, approaching the left corner at the end of the hall. Peeking her head around it, she saw something she might’ve anticipated given the sound but which surprised her nonetheless. On the right, between twenty to thirty feet down the hall, there was a flow of dim light spilling out through a cracked door, painting the opposing wall in its weak rays. She raised an eyebrow in bewilderment at such a sight. Seriously? No way anyone’s still working this late and with this stupid weather. Who would—. Her line of thought was severed as the most dreadful possibility entered her mind. Aw no. No, no, no, no, not tonight of all nights. She readied herself to turn back around and hightail it out of there, but there was a relentless urge she felt pulling her back toward the light. Then another distinct possibility hit her. Hold on. Maybe someone just forgot to turn their lights off. Unlike Spitfire’s office, Soarin’s office’s location usually escaped Dash’s memory as she had only spotted it a few times and had entered it even fewer times. She couldn’t even remember what number room it was in its hall, the first, last, or somewhere in between. Looking directly at it again, she couldn’t even tell from her position how many doors down the light source was. You know how Spitfire gets when she finds any lights left on overnight. “You flies already waste my time with sloppy maneuvers and now you gotta waste our electricity bill?!” Or some crap like that. Dash winced, picturing Equestria shaking with the roars and curses of a scorned captain. Just in case, I should probably check; it’d be easier on everyone if I turned that off. With a gulp, she suppressed her fear and walked slowly down the hall toward the light. When she was within range to read it, she glanced at the plaque next to the door, hoping to make out the name. Though she had braced for it, the name visible was mortifying all the same: “Lt. Cmdr. Soarin.”
Yeah, it’s definitely time I head out. Turns out we won’t get screamed at for leaving lights on, great. Plus, nothing says I gotta say hi to my CO just ‘cause he’s here and I’m really not in the mood to get caught helping with paperwork right now. Sure, that’s the reason. Shut up!, she argued dramatically with herself. The louder voice taking control, she made a quick u-turn and started walking back. With a sigh, she felt a fleeting second of reassurance, only for this to be whisked away with a frustrated stamp of her hoof on the floor, her halting about ten feet from the door. Against her reasoning, she couldn’t seem to pull herself completely away from the dim beacon behind her. What the hell are you doing, get goin’! But she couldn’t find the will to move, as if her body had set a point of no return with the event horizon being wherever the light touched. She glared at the floor, giving a brief moment to consider what exactly she was doing. Y’know what? This isn’t me. If this happened any other day, I’d at least swing by for a minute and say hi. Time to put my bits where my mouth is. She reversed to face the door. But... dang it... If he is drowning in paperwork, I probably shouldn’t bother—.
“Hello? Someone there?”
Dash jolted erect and rigid as a steel board. The voice echoed out of the room from behind the door, tingling her back and releasing sweat from her brow. “Aww great...,” she groaned almost silently under her breath, her face contorting into a familiar grimace. Now lacking much choice in reasonable action, she was almost grateful that her poor stealth capabilities had provided an end to her indecisiveness. Only now she was left with the more terrifying option. She forced herself to approach the door, which was made more difficult by her knees being on the edge of giving out beneath her. Stopping with her nose a few inches away from the crack, she allowed a collecting inhale to breach her lungs and gave two light frantic knocks on the door. Enduring a second that lasted ten years, she awaited another call to her from the voice beyond the door.
“No need to knock, I’m not gonna bite your head off or anything!”
Behaving as if the contrary were true, Dash placed her hoof cautiously on the door and pushed it open wider, the rusty hinge creaking as she did so. She slowly creeped her head through the gap and into the barely lit space. Greeting him with her head poking in from behind the door, a slightly nervous grin on her face, Dash found Soarin, seated behind his desk.
Her throat tightened; maintaining composure whilst looking right at him proved more difficult than simply hearing his voice. He was slightly hunched over the top of his desk, a large lamp illuminating the left side of his face. His eyes, emerald shimmers within the gentle mass of light hovering beside him, were ringed by dark bags, but no more than was usual for the work drunk stallion. Recognizing her through the relative darkness cloaking her face, his eyes widened in a pleasantly excited fashion.
“Crash? Hey!” Soarin said warmly.
“Heeeeyyy, Soarin,” Dash replied with a forced smile, trying to not let her nervousness seep through her voice.
“Come on in. Probably warmer in here that it is out in the hall.” Dash sheepishly stepped through the entryway and closed the door behind her, her legs still struggling to continue their balancing act. “What are you doing here? It’s a little late for extra practice, dontcha think?” he joked.
“Heh, yeah, I uh... had to drop something off for Spitfire,” Dash answered.
“Oh, that’s right, the confirmation letter from Manehattan Stadium. Yeah, we might need that. Usual business stuff, it’s a pain. Sorry you had to play errand pony again so soon.”
“No worries. We all gotta do it at some point, I guess... What about you? More paperwork for the boss mare, I assume?”
“Hmph, yeah... - sniffle - The usual. I know she doesn’t need any of this right away but I don’t like keeping things unfinished when I can easily get it out of the way right now. Spits will probably just start stressing out soon if I don’t get it off her back.” He flipped a sheet over to his right on top of another stack of downward-facing papers. “Heck, between the two of us, I’m starting to wonder how she would even function without us, haha!”
“Ha... Considering she can’t seem to get her own mail, I’m guessing not very well,” she responded, gradually becoming more relaxed thanks to having successfully gotten complete words out, along with Soarin’s friendly greeting.
Soarin scissored a pen between two of his wing feathers and began writing across several lines. “Well now we got ourselves a new fastest flyer, of course she wants you to take care of all our deliveries. Before you came along, it was usually Fleetfoot who had to cover those runs. She’s been pretty grateful for that, but I’m sure she understands your pain.”
“Ah, really? Hmph, she’s not too jealous that she’s not the fastest one on the team now is she?” Dash asked, trying to use smugness to hide genuine anxiety.
“Ha, no, she’s humbly accepted her new position as second fastest,” Soarin chuckled. “Again, if anything, she’s glad that Spitfire picks someone else to do her errands for her.”
“That’s cool. I certainly don’t want to make her feel inadequate or like I’m trying to one up any of you.”
Soarin looked up and glared at Dash judgmentally. “Oh, so you think you’re better than us?”
His sharp emeralds pierced her heart, igniting panic in her soul. “W-what? No! Oh gosh, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean-“.
Soarin cut off her panicked explanation with a fit of laughter, almost dropping his pen onto the paper its tip was just sliding across. “Relax, Crash, I’m just messing with you, hahaha!”
His jovial tease yanking her out of her terrified trance, Dash scoffed and rolled her eyes playfully back at him. “Freakin’ jerk...”
Soarin wiped a tear from his eye and shook his head, resuming his work. “Seriously though, I get it. But I don’t think anyone doubts your respect for everything each of us does and what we stand for. It just so happens you’re one of the strongest rookies we’ve had in a long time. And that makes all of us look good, more than anything.”
“That’s... good to hear.” Receiving any sort of praise from an accomplished Wonderbolt always struck a chord with Dash’s inner fangirl, despite now being a Wonderbolt herself. Normally she would be concerned about having an unprofessional reaction in their presence, but at this moment, Soarin’s compliments in combination with his usual amiability served to soothe her nerves more than anything. Almost forgetting the concerns which were just plaguing her mind, she relaxed and took in the office’s atmosphere for a couple of moments. As one might guess by their working relationship, Soarin maintained a much more tidy workspace than that of Sptifire. Despite being occupied with even more paper and various materials, most of it was laid out in a much pleasanter manner. It was reminiscent of Twilight’s library; papers sorted by logical category with clear labels, plentiful writing utensils, and a surprisingly neat display of pictures and accolades on the wall to Dash’s left.
Glancing up to see Dash sauntering and looking aimlessly about the room, Soarin smiled at her and questioned her. “So, what was with all the noise out there?”
“Hm?” Dash whipped her head to look back at Soarin as if she had no clue what he was referring to.
Soarin merely chuckled at her confusion. “It sounded like you got in a pretty heated battle out there or something.”
“Oh! Uuuuuh, yeah, there was a fly. Yep, really annoying fly that kept bothering ever since I came in,” Dash explained, darting her eyes back to the pictures on the wall.
“Mmhmm.” Soarin stared teasingly at her.
“What? It was a big fly, wanted to make sure it wouldn’t try to eat ya or something,” she insisted, playing it off as coolly as was manageable.
“Heh, well then thanks for looking out for me as always, Dash.” He stamped a sheet of paper and flipped it over, setting it down to his right. “So any reason you decided to come visit me? I wouldn’t guess you’re looking to help with paperwork,” Soarin inquired jokingly.
“Uh, no reason, really,” Dash answered, stroking the back of her neck with her hoof. “Just thought I’d say hi, see what’s up. What, do I need a reason to check up on a teammate?”
“Hm, I guess you don’t. Just figured you’d want to get home considering the lovely evening breeze we’ve got going here.” He motioned toward the window behind him, subtle flashes of lightning visible in the distance.
Dash cocked an eyebrow and smirked at the stallion. “Oh, so you’re saying I’m too slow to say hi to my commander and get home in time to outrun a little rain?” she challenged while taking a few steps nearer to Soarin, feigning being confrontational.
“Hmm, maybe I am, Airpony,” Soarin teased back, looking up to playfully leer at Rainbow. “I think your recent high performance has made you lazy. You need to be maximizing efficiency in every task assigned to you at all times.”
“Gosh, sometimes I forget you actually have a brain until you pull out a word with more than two syllables.”
“Directly mocking a commanding officer, that’s insubordination.”
“Pfft, you’re gonna slap me with the rule book, really?” Dash snorted.
“Yes. Only ‘cause you hurt my feelings...” Soarin responded, giving a pouty lip to dramatize the statement.
They eyeballed each other comically, caught in a battle to see who would crack first. After a mere two seconds, both tore into laughter at their own silly altercation, Soarin wiping yet another fresh tear from his eye and Dash in fits over his poor acting. Their jubilance didn’t last very long, however, as Dash recalled a concern which had presented itself just a few moments ago. She cleared her throat and looked half-seriously at Soarin.
“Hey, I’ll skedaddle if you’d like. I don’t want you stuck doing all this stuff any longer than you need to be.”
“Oh no, I welcome the company. I’m actually kinda glad you showed up. A little secret between you and me, these rainstorms give me a bit of the creeps when I’m caught here all alone.”
“Ugh, I don’t even know why we were scheduled for rain today. We had it, like, three days in a row last week.”
“Well I don’t want you to feel obligated to stick around either. You may wanna get outta town before that thing gets here.”
She gave Soarin a sarcastic look which he immediately recognized.
“Okay, last time I question Rainbow Dash the Princess of Speed,” he proclaimed, waving his hooves with her mock title.
“Now you’re learning, LT,” Dash winked.
“Well you look beat. Why don’t you take a load off, seat’s right there.” Soarin pointed his hoof at a large chair to his left. Looking it over, Dash thought it out of place in this room. As orderly as it was, the office was far from luxurious, yet this chair was lavishly cushioned in crimson and yellow floral patterns, accented by pristinely crafted woodwork, not to mention a tad large for just one pony to sit in.
“Thanks, I’ll be careful not to dirty up your... throne here,” she remarked, undoing her saddlebags and setting them up against the chair.
“Is the style not to your liking, Miss Dash?”
Dash plopped her rear on the seat and wriggled herself into it the pillowy cushion, giving a pleased whistle as she leaned into the backrest. “Nah, just not something I expected to find in an officer’s quarters. Comfy, though,” she replied, her eyes giving a subtle flutter in pleasure.
“Yeah, I found it at a market the other day. An old friend was trading it off to make space in his new apartment. Thought it might spruce it up in here a bit.”
“‘Spruce’ is a word; this thing is almost as cushy as a cloud. Why the heck don’t you sit in this while you work all day?”
“Heh, if I did I wouldn’t get anything done. Would be too busy napping. It’s real good when I’m on break, though.”
Accurate to Soarin’s word, Rainbow Dash felt she would find herself dozing soon if she didn’t sit back upright. She straightened up and then leaned forward to Soarin with two hooves resting between her legs. “Since when do you take breaks?”
“Hey, I know how to have fun when I need to. Sit back, have some afternoon coffee, read a book.”
“And you read? Whaaat? Hold on, that must be where the fancy words come from!”
“Haha, yes. And what I use in my pursuit to unlock the secrets of the universe, life, and what it all means,” he kidded. Dash shook her head playfully before Soarin straightened his papers and looked up at her once again. “Correct me if I’m wrong, but you’re quite the reader yourself aren’t ya?”
“Uh, yeah, I guess you could say so. I mean, it’s not like I read a whole ton all the time or get into anything super eggheady like science or something,” Dash replied, rubbing her hooves together thoughtfully.
“Oh yeah, you’re more of an action-adventure type of pony aren’t you? What’s that series called, the one with the treasure hunter? ‘Darling Done’ or something?”
Dash choked struggling to stifle a laugh, but swiftly broke at Soarin‘s fumble. “Bahahahaha! ‘Darling Done’?”
“I’m guessing that’s not the title?” Soarin said, grinning abashedly.
“It’s ‘Daring Do’, heheheh!” Dash cried with a facehoof. “You absolute dork!”
“I’m tired, leave me alone!” Soarin retorted humorously.
“Well yeah, you could say I’m a big fan of ‘Darling Done’. In fact, they are the best stories ever told by ponykind. And since I said it, you know it’s undeniably the case.”
“Hm, well maybe I’ll give them a read sometime.”
“Duh! You totally should! Wait... what do you read?” Dash asked, befuddled by what might interest him if not the great Daring Do.
“I like some variety. Drama, suspense, mystery...,” he answered, his eyes wandering across the ceiling as he tried to pick a favorite. “I really dig crime stories. Y’know, an old grizzled detective on the hunt for the bad guy, connecting the threads in this web of secrets and motives, dodging lethal criminals along the way. Exciting stuff.”
“Hmph, at least it’s not romance,” Dash snarked.
“Hey now, there’s some good stuff to be had in a little romance. Daring Do seriously never has her heartstrings plucked by anyone in her adventures?”
Dash held her mouth agape and her hoof on her chest as if Soarin had spoken blasphemy. “I’m gonna pretend you didn’t suggest what I think you just did.”
“Uh oh...”
“Daring Do is an elite adventurer, searching far and wide for the darkest secrets and most mysterious artifacts buried in the most dangerous places in the world, and fighting the nastiest, most conniving groups of baddies any hero could face!” Dash proclaimed like she was narrating the back cover of the novel itself. “She doesn’t have time for romance, she’s got places to go and flanks to kick!”
Soarin chuckled softly at her enthusiasm. “You’re really into this character aren’t ya? I’m starting to think you—... you—... ACHOO!”
Soarin’s head shot downward behind the desk to shield both his papers and Rainbow Dash from a vicious sneeze. Though she saw it coming a second before thanks to his pausing, Dash was still startled by the explosiveness of the sound and Soarin’s body movement. Then a surge of deja vu flooded her. Now that she had just witnessed and heard it up close, it was undoubtable that was the noise she had heard minutes ago, now a loud, gross burst which seemed somewhat painful for the stallion.
“Holy— You good?” Dash asked, prepping to stand up from her formerly relaxed position.
“Guh... Yeah... Y-yeah, I’m good -sniffle-.” Soarin reached to his right, only for his trembling hoof to knock a tissue box off of the desk, realizing it to be empty as soon as it hit the floor. He fumbled for another moment searching for a fresh one and was shortly discouraged by the absence of it. He then looked to the back of the room and directed his hoof toward it. “Can you -sniffle-... get me another box of those? There should be more in the top drawer back there.”
Dash turned around to spot where Soarin was pointing, a metal cabinet sitting against the wall to the left of the door. “Yeah, sure.” Braced for another sneeze to strike at any time, she stood up from her seat and walked over to the plain gray drawer. With a harsh metallic rattle, she slid it open and immediately spotted a pastel-colored tissue box at the bottom, its white and fluffy inside brimming with tissues free for use. She swiped it, closed the drawer, and returned promptly to the desk, passing the box to Soarin.
He immediately yanked a tissue out of the box and aggressively wiped his snout, eking out a “Thank you” through the thin sheet. As she hoofed off the container, Dash had registered a short trash can standing right beside Soarin which she hadn’t seen earlier. Within it was an impressive mound of used tissues sprinkled with clear plastic wrappers, like those used to envelop hard candy. She resurveyed Soarin, still rubbing his now enflamed nose.
“Dude, you sure you’re feeling alright?”
Soarin ceased the attack on his snout and discarded the wet sheet into the trash can. Rubbing his eyes, he managed to look back up at her with red in his eyes almost as painful to see as his snout. Dash was kicking herself for not seeing it before. Perhaps it was his lively mood managing to mask his physical condition or her own frazzled mental state which prevented her noticing, but now Soarin’s state appeared so starkly in contrast to his normal that it was hard to believe how she hadn’t realized it sooner. Burning through his pale cornflower blue coat, a bright red filled the space just below his cheekbones, a coloration which was likely drowned out before by the lamp beating on his face. His festive green irises were surrounded by sickeningly red veins and a subtle glassy fog blanketed his stare. And if not for being so close, Dash might’ve believed his nose to be bleeding from the deep red around it.
“That must’ve been one heck of a sneeze... No offense, but you look like death.”
“Ugh... felt like it...” He pressed his hooves against both temples and massaged them hard. “Celestia, and my head was just starting to feel better...” Suddenly he felt a tickle in his throat which turned into a sting, provoking a wet cough to force its way out of his mouth. He whipped one hoof from his temple down to his mouth as quick as physically possible to prevent anything from being exposed to his attack. A labored wheeze and inhale followed as he strained to speak further. “Sorry, I’ve got a bit of something. My allergies get pretty bad this time of year, so at first I thought it was just— hack!” He tried in vain to soften another coughing fit, only to make the sensation more severe as a result and wince in a searing pain.
“Yeah, that doesn’t sound like allergies,” Dash stated in concern, impulsively inching a bit nearer to Soarin.
“Ah-ah, please... ahem... don’t... get any closer than you have to. Can’t have you catching this too,” he pleaded, still holding his hoof in front of his mouth.
Agreeing it best to avoid unneeded contact yet still pressing to assist in some way, Dash beckoned further for clarity. “Well what all is bothering you? Stuffy nose, sore throat, headache. Any pain anywhere else?”
“Ugh, you’d have more luck asking what doesn’t hurt,” he groaned, kneading his temples once again. “My head feels like an overfilled water balloon, just about every sinus in my body is ready to bust open, all my joints are sore... too much?”
“No, not at all... Did you take anything to help already?”
“Only a bunch of cough drops. I usually keep a stash of ‘em during the allergy season, but I kinda... ran out.”
“Well what about the clinic? Can’t you snatch yourself something from down there? Some nighttime cold and flu stuff?”
“Clinic’s closed and gutted for remodeling. All their stock -sniffle-... was taken out and secured somewhere else too. Good luck finding it. Ponies working down there were going to set up a temporary makeshift clinic in one of the spare storage rooms, but they haven’t gotten around to it yet what with the show coming up and the weather making supplies hard to deliver.”
“Gotcha...” Dash acknowledged glumly. Her chin fell, lamenting her apparent inability to assist Soarin in his condition. Poor guy, no wonder he can barely keep his eyes straight on me. Before she could wrestle further, her ear twitched, stimulated by a soft blunt sound several feet in front of her. She lifted her head back up and looked at the window behind Soarin. A half second later, another tiny drop of water struck the glass, followed by several more drops and a sudden surge of wind as the window was spattered in the onset of rainfall.
“Hey,” Soarin spoke with a rasp, pulling Dash’s eyes back to him. “I’ll be fine. Takes more than a little cold to keep ‘ole Clipper from signing off on papers, hehe...”
Dash gave a doleful smile and nodded in acceptance, though she struggled to honestly give credence to his claim of resilience. She knew he was one tough pony, but he couldn’t simply ignore every cell in his body telling him he is horribly ill. “Well I definitely don’t wanna be the one to tell ya to quit, but just, uh... be sure to take one of those breaks of yours if you need it.”
“Hmm... you have my word,” he swore with a kind smile. He then registered the rhythm of rain as well, turning around to see an array of droplets cascading down the glass. “Shoot, looks like that storm caught up with you.” Tucking a stack of papers between the bend of his foreleg and chest, he stood up feebly from his seat, his shoulders slack but torso stiff and bent like he was still hunched over his desk. He hobbled over to a tall filing cabinet standing left of his chair and slid open the top drawer. “You... ahem... may wanna get out of here while it’s still manageable. Head home, put your hooves up, you’ve earned it.”
Dash examined the idea for a moment. While she wasn’t very agreeable to leaving Soarin by himself here, in this state nonetheless, she knew it was likely for the best that she depart. Depending on how bad this illness truly is, if she caught it as well, it would be disastrous for the team to be down two key fliers for the Manehattan show. And knowing how long he typically goes at paperwork, Soarin likely would not finish until well after the worst of the storm had passed, granting him an easy fly home at the end of the night. She wasn’t sure she entirely believed that notion, but she relented that she should have faith in his ability take care of himself and get the job done despite any obstacles.
“Yeah, you’re... probably right,” Dash admitted reluctantly. She stepped back over to the chair and picked up her saddlebags, swinging them over her back and fastening them to her body. “You’re totally sure you’ll be good here by yourself?” she asked sternly.
“Oh yeah -sniffle-... I’ve only got a few more stacks left... I can manage,” he assured weakly, flipping through folder after folder.
“Alright...” Dash turned, giving one last look at Soarin, and walked toward the door. She reached out and ran her hoof up the door handle, about to grasp and pull it to open her exit. However, she felt an abrupt invisible force keep her from doing so. It wasn’t fear like before; it was as if she was forgetting something. Something she had never thought of in the first place. She grimaced as the images of tea with her friends came running through her mind once again, and with them, she could barely make out the echoes of Rarity’s voice. Most of it Dash interpreted as mere noise, but somewhere within it she found unmistakeable words which her friend had sown into her consciousness. Dash let her hoof slip from the handle and swiveled around to face Soarin.
“Hey, one more thing?”
“Hm?... Anything, Dash,” he answered, slipping his paper stack into a folder and closing the drawer.
“Uh...” Dash gulped, struggling to open her throat enough to let even a word out. She stepped a bit closer to him, in case that if she only managed to squeak it out, he would understand her and she wouldn’t have to say it again. “Uh... My... friend is having this whole event thing going on tomorrow. Some fashion show or something.” Soarin rotated and faced her, ears perked up in an intrigued listening position. “Gonna be lots of froufrouy types and flashy clothes and all that boring crap, anyways...” Dash fidgeted, cracking her neck and sighing as she stumbled on to the point. “I was wondering, I mean if you don’t have anything better to do tomorrow and feel up to it, if you’d like to go.” Soarin remained quiet, kindly allowing any extra explanation she might wish to give. “Um, I’m gonna be going to it. Gotta be a supportive friend and all that, y’know, hehe... But, uh... It might be a little more enjoyable with another awesome pony there.” She smiled awkwardly in anticipation of a response.
Soarin stayed quiet for another second, almost long enough to make Dash fret that he had somehow lost her in her mess of jittering. Just as she was about to verbally prod him, he slowly blinked and gave a dry response. “Sure.”
“Oh... wait, really?!” Dash’s expression exploded from dejection to astonishment, turning her ear toward him to make sure she had not just experienced an auditory hallucination.
“S-sure... I don’t have anything going on tomorrow. And it sounds like it... might be fun,” he explained, setting his right foreleg on the corner of the desk and leaning up against it.
Dash shook her head, trying to keep her bearings in spite of the exciting response she just received. “Uh... A-awesome, heheh! So I’ll see you there then?”
“Yeah, it’s a... it’s a promise.”
“Great, I’ll hold you to that, Clipper,” she accepted brightly, getting ready to leave for real this time with a wide grin on her face. Her grin quickly faded, however, as she realized something had become even more abnormal about Soarin’s body language. Tilting her head in curiosity, she shuffled a little closer in order inspect what might be gripping him. It was with that she was able perceive the composition of his glare; he was looking straight in her direction but not at her. His eyes were rapidly becoming glazed over, a deep fog overlaying his pupils, fading his focus on her in and out. “Soar?” His legs were quaking and upper body shivering, the movement causing his raised foreleg to slide gradually across the desk.
“Um... -sniffle-... Dash... I... I can’t...” Soarin’s voice grew meeker, trembling beneath a crushing fright which she had never before heard out of the stallion.
“Whoa, hang on, stay right there,” Dash ordered with a wavering calm.
“Rainbow Dash?... I... can’t see you...”
Dash tried to rush to the chair and slide it next to Soarin, providing something safe for him to rest on, but before she could react, his support suddenly buckled. “Soarin!” Dash exclaimed frantically. His foreleg slid all the way off the desk, scattering a mass of papers which had been resting in front of his hoof into the air above. His whole frame began to topple down headfirst into the cold hard floor.
The second or two, however long it truly was, which immediately followed were occupied by a boundless void to Soarin. He might have picked up a muffled, barely audible thud at the same moment he saw color again, but what little consciousness he clung to was incapable of ascertaining it. The final things he sensed before blacking out entirely were looking up at a large blot of light blue hovering over him, with every other color he could imagine surrounding it, and a series of undeterminable but somehow familiar vibrations gracing his ears. He wondered why he thought it odd that they rung with such distress.
