Not My Rescuer (but not bad either)

Chapters

Blind Date
Birthday Date
Cloudsdale Date
Canterlot Date
Yakyakistan Date
Skyside Date

Blind Date

It had been a while since I had gone on a romantic rendez-vous. There were reasons for this, naturally. I kept myself impossibly busy maintaining the Boutique and trying to expand the brand across Equestria, which is a task not for the faint of heart! Indeed, at times it seemed only my passion for fashion and art is what kept the dream alive.

On top of my unyielding responsibilities to my business is the matter that, quite frankly, I’ve not had the best of experiences with romance. I was once a naive creature, more enamoured with the allure of a heady, fairy-tale story than a real connection with another pony, and each time I had tried to dive into such a connection, at the Gala, and later with Trenderhoof, the whole thing would collapse into an embarrassing mess. I had even at one point thought towards making advances towards Fancy Pants, but this was also a doomed endeavour. How was I supposed to know he was gay?

For a long time it seemed that it’d be best to just shelve the whole thing, but as one thing led to another, Rainbow Dash gave me an offer I, in a moment of impulse (where wine may not have been entirely uninvolved) accepted. She had said that I might need a pony whose ambition matched my own; a pony who could 'keep up with me' as she put it. As I prepared myself for the task of putting her down gently (Rainbow is a dear friend, and I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t considered it, but alas she is also too high-maintenance for me in my opinion, and also has no respect for my things), she explained her proposition. She had a friend who was also single and highly ambitious, driven, and in Rainbow's own words, ‘cool’.

I had also apparently met the pony in question before, Applejack told me. Oh, yes, Applejack was there too. It was a sort of gathering, a private party for the wine-drinkers among our group... but I digress.

For clarification, this encounter took place mid-way between winter and spring, as Ponyville and the nearby towns were preparing to clear away the snow, gathering seeds, recalling the birds and wildlife, and begin heating up the environs. A pleasant, if chilly time of year, providing gentle encouragement to go outdoors but just enough bite to keep one from being fully comfortable. A time when scarves, hats, and even fluffy little mittens (of which I had designed a series which was in vogue in Canterlot, not that I wish to boast) were commonplace.

The place of our meeting was a restaurant, a high-society place allegedly suggested by my would-be partner. The Griffon’s Delight it was called. A charming rural location with fresh ingredients sourced from the nearby Whitetail Woods, Ponyville, and the local Cloudsdale outpost, Cloud Nine. It had a truly delightful wooden and carved stone aesthetic, combining urban chic practicality in the hard edges of the carved stone with fanciful traditional wood and wickerwork. I was taken in immediately!

All I wanted from the date was, if I must be entirely frank, for it to not go terribly. I must remind you that my current bar was set at not having a cake land on me and above all, not having the object of my affections be stolen by Applejack. I stress that last point especially. I didn’t really mind who I was going to be sharing a meal with. High-class stallion or quirky mare, I just wanted to get out of the ordeal without being overly shamed and publicly embarrassed. I had no high expectations, and had even prepared several large tubs of ice-cream for when everything inevitably turned sour.

Though I had intended to get there fashionably early, I was ‘beaten to it’, as it were. It was when I saw the mare in question that I had deduced exactly why Rainbow had thought me such an appropriate mare to push into this blind date.

The table was larger than a table for two perhaps warranted, owing to the large, slab-like furniture and desire for comfortable space. Sitting comfortably on the far side of the table, a single candle obscuring them only slightly, was a pegasus mare I recognised.

All at once memories of embarrassing myself at the Junior Flyers Competition came hurtling back to me. I had let my own ego get to my head and tried to outshine Rainbow Dash and, well, all the flyers with a pair of magical wings I had been gifted by Twilight… and at high noon, when the sun was at its highest and my performance at its most spectacular, they had burst into flames and dissolved into ash. The agonising sting of embarrassment was only slightly overshadowed by the overwhelming terror caused by hurtling down to my likely death. The prospect of being smeared on the ground like jam on a pastry has that effect on a lady's priorities.

The one to rescue me had been Rainbow Dash, but the first to try had been the mare sitting at the table opposite me. She was the current captain of the Wonderbolts, flight instructor and general leader of Rainbow’s famous flying team. She was Spitfire, subject of dozens of magazine articles and a good few interviews, something of an icon. Her lithe, svelte body was coveted by many in the fashion industry, myself included. What I would give to have her model for me in a dress of my own creation!

Her coat was instantly recognisable, the colour of a setting sun or hearth-fire on a cold, dark evening. Her eyes were as golden as she was, and her mane, typically slicked back, was drooping gently forwards like a flame in a breeze. She looked up at me, putting down what appeared to be a report of some kind. In hindsight, I might have felt slightly insulted, to have her bring her work to our date, blind though it was, but I was still working through various stages of emotional distress at having to relive the shame and terror of nearly dying as well as covertly avoid letting on to Spitfire that I was imagining putting her in a variety of dresses that I had designed for an athletic pegasus like herself.

Oh, and there was another time when Spike turned giant and trapped her as she tried to rescue me again... I try not to think about that day, though. It was… strange, and when those memories had returned to me I felt even more troubled. I stood in front of the table, stunned into silence by the explosion of inner thoughts and memories.

“Hey there,” Spitfire said. “I recognise you. You wouldn’t happen to have been sent here by Rainbow Dash, would you?”

On top of everything else, horror stories that Rainbow had told me about her boss flooded back to me. Tales of gruesome training and drill-sergeant attitude inflicted upon Rainbow by this mare. I was no longer certain if this was a blind date or a sort of prank. Had Rainbow held a grudge against me for making her wear that outrageous wig that one time? I couldn’t blame her. I don’t know what I was thinking, making it that tall… Regardless, I knew from Rainbow’s stories that Spitfire was… harsh. I think that is the most delicate way of putting it.

Still, I was a gracious pony, and still am, and decided to go through with this honestly and in good faith, even if I was already imagining the taste of my consolation ice-cream once I got home. It was a forest berry mix. My favourite.

“Yes, I was,” I said, and sat down, smiling as sweetly as I could manage. “I’m Rarity, but we’ve technically met before, miss Spitfire.”

Spitfire flashed me a smile… more genuine than I had expected. Most instances I had seen her, she always had a serious look on her face, or otherwise seemed to be putting on an act… she was a Wonderbolt after all, and she had an appearance to maintain.

“I remember. Sorry I wasn’t at my best on… well, I think any of the occasions that we met.” She swallowed, betraying a hint of nervousness. “You know, I probably wasn’t going to do this, but Rainbow and Soarin pressured me into it, so…”

“Oh, I’ve had quite the same experience with Rainbow and Applejack, believe me,” I confessed. “Rainbow is very pushy when she wants something.”

Spitfire snorted, but not in a mean-spirited way. Perhaps I had been wrong about her, I thought. “You can say that again. It’s what makes her a half-decent ‘Bolt.” Spitfire tilted her head. “That and she keeps winning races, which is a nice bonus.”

The waiter, a small, mousy pegasus mare, approached out table, bowing gently with flawless adherence to local etiquette. This truly was a well-to-do restaurant.

“Would you ladies like to see our drinks menu before orderin’?”

Oh, and the waiter even had a cute Trottingham accent. How quaint.

“No need; the Château Solaire will be perfect,” Spitfire said, and then glanced towards me. “If that’s all right with you?”

I was taken aback. Not just by the forthright manner in which she dismissed the menu, but also in her choice of wine. Château Solaire was an excellent decision; it was full-bodied with a mild hint of cinnamon in the back of the throat, a fine option for a colder time of year. It was a choice that could only have been made by a pony accustomed to drinking finer wines and that was familiar with the drinks menu of the restaurant itself. I was impressed. I hadn’t expected a sporty type like Spitfire to have that level of sophistication.

However, I now felt I had something to prove.

“You don’t think that a Marelot is a little pedestrian for a romantic rendez-vous?” I asked, letting a dash of my competitive side take over. “I am not familiar with the drinks here, but perhaps a wine from the McLauren Vale would be a good choice. It is especially fine this time of year.”

Spitfire flashed a small smirk. “Nice, I like it.” She turned to the waitress. “Can you handle both?”

Both? I had to admit, that was one way to resolve the conflict. Spitfire then turned back to me as the waitress trotted away, nodding and smiling at the instruction.

“So. I heard you do fashion.”

What I had wanted was for the evening to not go terribly, and that low bar had been met. I had never thought of Spitifre, or indeed any of the ponies that Rainbow surrounded herself with as being, well, ‘my type’. Why would they be? Surely they’d be like Rainbow herself; sporty, sweaty, a bit crude… But instead, Spitfire appeared sophisticated, intelligent, and composed at all times. Too composed, even.

Time dripped by, second by second. Food came and went, but I found myself increasingly mesmerised by the pony opposite me. Not that I want to sound like I had become overwhelmed like a young school-filly; much of my interest was out of curiosity.

“I got into the Wonderbolts really early,” Spitfire explained. “I’m actually the youngest Captain ever, but I managed it by being an independent instructor and flyer first before being scouted during a kinda’ difficult time for the ‘Bolts.” She took a long sip of wine. “I had helped train Fleetfoot and Misty Fly, who were already joining the ‘Bolts, so when they became members they recommended me, and then I kept on acting as an instructor, then flyer, then captain.” She smirked. “So I guess I kinda’ skipped the usual procedure.”

Rainbow had been right; if there was a pony who could easily keep up with my own rise through the world of fashion, it was Spitfire. The way she described her becoming a Captain… a role that one would typically pick up close to a decade later than when Spitfire did… she made it seem like it was natural. Just a product of a few smart decisions.

“That’s quite… well, impressive,” I admitted. “I got to watch Rainbow slowly tackle every single obstacle in her way to become a Wonderbolt, but you were already one when she was still in the Junior Flyer’s Contest if I recall…”

Spitfire nodded. “I was. I had just joined at that point and they wanted to show me off.”

“How much older are you compared to Rainbow?” I asked, seeking to satisfy my curiosity further. She must be only five years older, I suspected, given her youthful looks.

“We actually flew in the same classes. I was only, oh, about two years older? I got held back a year.”

I nearly choked on my wine. It was then that I realised what I was sitting opposite; some kind of prodigy. What she was describing was the equivalent of me managing to already have an empire of boutiques across the continent, or being an established authority delivering commands and setting trends instead of always hunting for a niche to exploit. She was in control, and I wanted that.

Spitfire held an expression that didn’t seem to realise how extraordinary that was. All the stories Rainbow had told me about her illustrious captain were put into a new context for me. How was I meant to compete honestly with that?

“You’re doing pretty well for yourself as well, right?” Spitfire asked. “Rainbow said you owned shops or something.”

“Well, one,” I admit, though compared to Spitfire’s rise up her career’s ladder, it seems weak to say. “Though I am very close to opening more in Manehattan and Canterlot!” I add, a little too enthusiastically.

“That’s pretty awesome,” Spitfire went on, appearing to miss my awkwardness-come-jealousy. “You know, I was actually hoping to get your opinion on the ‘Bolt uniforms. Can you do aerodynamic stuff?”

“More-so than what you already wear?” I asked. “I would imagine a lot of it comes down to material selection, since as it is I’m not confident in saying that your current suits can be streamlined further. As it is, it’s as if you’re not wearing anything besides changing the friction of air and… flying things I’m convinced I don’t understand properly, no matter how many times Rainbow absent-mindedly explains them me.”

Spitfire nodded with interest. Genuine interest. That was a new one. Trenderhoof had been distracted and barely noticed me, and Blueblood hadn’t really cared about me one way or another.

“Yeah, the suits are already pretty smooth. The material is actually pretty expensive. Any thoughts on the pattern?”

“I suppose I could brainstorm something for you… perhaps something to draw attention to the front half…”

Spitfire reclined gracefully, disappearing into the wide, spacious chair whilst taking a sip of wine. “See, I knew I should have a chat with you. Rainbow always said it’d be a waste of time because you’d do lots of big awkward additions.”

“Oh, she did, did she?” I asked, pursing my lips.

“Yeah. I guess that shows what she knows. Me, I like having a basic awareness of a lot of things. The details kinda get away from me, but at least knowing they exist is already a big step up from having no clue, you know?”

I am, I must admit, weak to being given attention. I struggle with my friends sometimes, since it’s hard to talk fashion with them too much on account of them not being as connected as I am in the correct circles. I do get some decent conversations out of Fluttershy sometimes, but in reality, that might just be because I don’t get interrupted as much.

Even if she doesn’t know much about it, Spitfire is interested. In me. I liked that.

There’s a flash of anxiety I detected in Spitfire’s expression. She turned away slightly, looking for something else to attract her attention away from me. I barely had time to wonder why before the second bottle of wine arrived.

“Your other selection, madam.”

Spitfire gratefully accepted the wine. I didn’t mind that she was taking charge of the date. There’s an appeal in being taken care of, and whilst there are plenty of instances where I will insist on being in control, at that time I thought that I liked watching the confident captain deliver instructions on my behalf.

“It must be quite fun, being as confident as you are,” I told her.

Again, a moment of hesitation flashed across Spitfire’s as she raised the glass to her lips. It quickly vanished. “Yeah, well, you have to learn that to be a captain. Confidence is like a superpower. Once you have it, stuff just… starts working out more.” She glanced my way out the corner of her eye. “I bet that’s something you know about.”

“Oh, I’m hardly as confident as I appear, darling.”

Spitfire burst out in a chuckle. “Darling? Where’d that come from?”

A little embarrassed, I wave my hoof nonchalantly. “Oh, just… a force of habit. What would you prefer to be called?”

“Pet names so soon?” Spitfire clicked her tongue, looking up as she thought. “Y’know, I think my friends mostly just call me ‘Captain’.”

“Captain Darling it is, then.”

Spitfire shook her head, an amused smile playing her lips. “Not sure that’ll stick.”

“Not with that attitude it won’t,” I counter.

In response, Spitfire just takes a long sip of wine, shaking her head slowly, her smirk plastered on her face as she appraised me once again. “I see now why Rainbow likes you.”

I smiled back at Spitfire, and she returned it. I think that was when my curiosity was replaced by genuine attraction.

A part of me expected this to be the time when everything fell apart somehow. Maybe a jealous lover would erupt into the restaurant and whisk Spitfire away. In a worst case scenario it’d be Applejack. I didn’t want things to fall apart, though. I had entered into this situation blindly and with trepidation, hoping for only the most marginal of successes, but now, I felt rather… dazzled. She wasn’t just like me… she didn’t just want to climb to the top of her career and forge a path for herself. She was what I wanted to be. The dream version of what I could have been if things just worked out, if I had more drive, more smarts, more cunning and more charm. She was overwhelming. I was overwhelmed.

There was something else, though… something I couldn’t quite put my hoof on. An anxiety I had only barely detected through the wine and pleasant surprise. Something curious that drove me to press on more.

“I see why Rainbow likes you, too,” I told Spitfire. Of course, that was code for ‘I like you’.

I knew Spitfire took that hint given her smile and noticeably flirtatious lean forwards, towards me. “I’ll have to thank her for this later.”

It was not, admittedly, a short distance from the Griffon’s Delight to my home, and I had expected to spend a nice long walk back whilst lamenting a difficult evening. As it turned out, however, the journey was made much faster given that I was able to ride Spitfire (please, don’t snicker) on the way back.

Maybe the view from the sky would have been more appealing were it not night-time, cloaking the Whitetail woods below in darkness, but it was pleasant nonetheless. The cold air was held at bay by close proximity to Spitfire, and I let myself sink into the depths of those small feathers and thick, smooth mane.

“It must be a fine change being able to carry me,” I began in a joking tone, “Without me kicking you in the mouth this time.”

There was a brief pause before Spitfire replied.

“Yeah, last time was a bit less fun. Maybe it was the near-death experience. Who knows.”

Spitfire then went quiet. Perhaps it was not a very sensitive joke, I mused. Perhaps the intoxicating proximity to her had tricked me into being too comfortable for my own good.

We drifted down, invisible, towards the Carousel Boutique, where Spitfire landed gently, almost imperceptibly. Whenever I had gone along with Rainbow to see the shows, the Wonderbolts often landed heavily, decelerating faster than I could follow with my eyes, but now, she was slow and smooth for me.

I dismounted, stumbling a second to get my bearings, and then adjusted. Spitfire turned to me.

“So, uh, want to schedule another one?”

I was delighted at the prospect. Why wouldn’t I be? For the first time in a long time things started to feel like they were going right. Only now that I was so close to another pony romantically had I realised how lonely I had been.

“I’m perhaps not a terribly good pony to date,” I admitted, fighting against my own inner desires. “I’m frequently very invested in my career, but if you want to put up with that… I’d be very glad if you did.”

Spitfire chuckled. “Lady, look who you’re talking to. I’ll probably be too busy to add holding you back from your career tomy schedule.” She softened slightly. “I don’t think either of us want… pressure. Just somepony to be with. Right?”

Yes. That was exactly what I wanted. I didn't long for the feeling of being whisked away any more… I had worked so long for control over my own destiny, and I wanted to keep it. I just didn’t want to keep it on my own.

I shivered in the cold, and moved towards the door to my house. “It’s freezing out here. Do you want to keep talking about this indoors?”

“I’m a pegasus pretty accustomed to high altitudes,” Spitfire said. “I’m not bothered by the cold, if me getting home is what you’re worried about…”

“Not in the slightest, but we do seem to be striking up a conversation again and I, for one, do not have your… resilience.” I stepped into my house. “If you’d rather leave, though, I’m convinced that we can arrange another meeting through Rainbow…”

Spitfire considered a moment. “No, it’s fine. I can talk.” She looked up at the sky. “I could do with a rest after carrying you back anyway.”

We didn’t end up talking much. In the end, I had cracked open one of my remaining bottles of cider that I have imported from Fillydelphia (don’t judge me. Applejack doesn’t have hers preserved, so I have to get it from elsewhere).

A little giddy, I had convinced Spitfire to sit still long enough to start playing with various fabrics on her.

“You said something about air friction?” I asked, throwing a pile of silks and stiffer, speciality fabrics onto Spitfire, who was sitting on the couch whilst giggling. Sweetie was with our parents, so I had the boutique all to myself, thankfully. “I have all of these.”

Spitfire pulled a sheet of a refined giant spidersilk fabric (that I had acquired at great personal cost, and keep well away from Sweetie Belle) off of her face, which tickled her nose and caused her to sneeze. “Ugh! Not that one. What even is that?”

“Giant… um. Are you afraid of spiders?”

Spitfire shrugged as I bounced onto the couch next to her. “A bit, why?”

I delicately removed the spidersilk from her. “Oh, no reason. Let’s shelve that topic for now.”

Spitfire rolled onto her side, folding her wings against her as she took a sip of cider. “You going to make me play dress-up?”

"Please don't tempt me. You must have an idea of how many fashion designers would kill to be able to play with that body of yours." I paused a moment. "I mean that purely professionally, of course," I added, attempting to salvage the statement.

"Pity," Spitfire quipped.

Feeling somewhat hotter than before, I thrust a piece of bright yellow fabric onto Spitfire’s chest. “What about a big lightning bolt symbol right there? Where everypony can see it?” I glanced at Spitfire’s physique, who was eyeing me with faint curiosity. “No, yellow is out. Blue is in! Oh, yes. What about switching the colour scheme around? Blue lightning, pale golden… perhaps dandelion… yellow base?”

Spitfire tilted her head to the side. “Sounds a bit ostentatious?”

“Well,” I spluttered, “A little ostentatiousness never hurt anypony. Least of all me.”

“I can tell.” Spitfire rummaged through the various fabrics. “What’s this? It feels tough. And... expensive.”

“Sea serpent scale,” I said, holding the shimmering garment up. “You have a very good eye! This is immensely rare. Flexible and outrageously durable, and look how it shimmers in the light!”

“Are you trying to show off to me?” Spitfire asked, folding her forehooves playfully.

I reeled, and quickly tried to reassert myself, projecting as much confidence as I could. “Is it working?”

“A bit. Where’d you even get these?”

“I negotiate for them here and there. The giant spider silk I got as an apology from Fancy Pants for… reasons best left undisclosed.”

“Spidersilk?” Spitfire asked, stiffening. “Giant spidersilk?”

“Hmm? No, nothing like that,” I lied, and took another gulp of cider. “Moving on, Captain Darling.”

Spitfire groaned.

“What’s this sea serpent scale do?”

“Well, they shed naturally, but it takes many years to make a complete sheet like this. It’s immensely resilient, like I mentioned, but also shock-absorbant, and waterproof!”

“So… not very breathable, then?”

“Not so much, no.”

“Too bad,” Spitfire said, running her hoof over the material. I grinned gleefully. It was nice to have my work be appreciated. I realised that I hadn’t shown many ponies my collection of fabrics and materials… not the special ones, anyway, but Spitfire had said she was interested in an alternative Wonderbolt uniform…

“Anything good for shock absorption? That is breathable?”

I scratched my chin. “Is this for a stunt?”

“More like crash or rescue considerations.” Spitfire shrugged. "A pet project, let's say."

I raised my eyebrow at the term ‘rescue’. It wasn’t one I associated with the Wonderbolts much. They were, after all, largely stunt-ponies. Yes, I knew they had a military background, but I also knew that it was largely defunct, and even when they would take part, it would be as a long-range, reconnaissance, or communication role, not direct combat.

What? I read books and know things outside of fashion.

“Perhaps these…” I began, getting up off the couch, my tail brushing tantalisingly against Spitfire’s wing, sending a small shiver up my spine. I pushed it aside for now, and trotted to a box where I kept some more rigid components. “Chitin. Very beautiful; look how they reflect the light!”

I held up a pair of small, cup or bowl-shaped pieces of liquorice black material, letting the dim light of my Boutique shimmer across their surface.

“Nice,” Spitfire said. “Not sure I like how far away you are, though.”

I began to feel very hot and sweaty again, things that no lady should be caught being in public. I then reminded myself that I was not in public, so perhaps a little heat was all right, and approached Spitfire again.

“What do you think?” I asked, tossing the pieces to Spitfire. “Unfortunately, they’re all I have.”

“They’re heavier than I expected.”

“Well, they’re not made of card.”

Spitfire twirled the pieces of chitin in her hooves. “I didn’t figure you for having such… weird stuff.”

“Inspiration comes from many places, but whenever I’m in doubt, I like to return to nature.”

Spitfire sank backwards, draping herself across my canapé in front of me. “Not a bad strat’. Old Wonderbolt once said that they came up with tricks and stunts sometimes based on weird flight movements birds did.”

“Oh really?” I asked, shifting and inserting myself next to her, collapsing into her. I could smell the faint whiff of perfume on her mane, a brand I didn't recognise. “Who was that?”

“My predecessor, actually. She was nice, but kind of easygoing. Too easygoing.”

“Not like you, I assume?”

“I’m nice.”

“I meant," I laughed, "You’re not very easygoing. You look like you always endeavour to improve.”

“Yeah, I guess I am a bit of a try-hard,” Spitfire muttered, glancing at me with an awkward look, very unlike her stoic, confident facade. I was increasingly convinced that it was just a mask for something deeper inside, though. I wondered what her confidence was hiding?

I could hardly help myself any more, and moving closer still, I pushed the remaining pieces of fabric aside that formed a final barrier between my and her. I let my lips brush hers.

“I hope Rainbow doesn’t get too full of herself after this…” I muttered.

“I doubt there’s any way of stopping that now,” Spitfire replied, breathing out heavily onto me. “Come closer.”

I did.

It must have been closer to morning than evening when I turned, the sheets sliding over me, towards Spitfire. I felt movement from her side of the bed, which whilst large, wasn’t so spacious that I could ignore the tossing and turning of a pony with a wingspan as considerable as hers.

I slid towards Spitfire, noting a contorted expression on her face, and beads of sweat on her brow, long after they should have disappeared. I put my hooves on her, careful not to overly startle her.

“Spitfire?” I asked, trying to shake her awake from whatever nightmare she was trapped in. “Spitfire!”

Without a sound, Spitfire stopped moving. I saw her eyelids drift open, her pupils focusing and her breath steadying. She glanced towards me then closed her eyes again. She looked momentarily peaceful. The smell of perfume I had detected earlier was gone, or perhaps I was simply inured to it as it had rubbed off onto me.

“Sorry. Bad dream.”

I tried to lighten her mood. “I wasn’t that bad, was I?”

Spitfire snorts. “Ha.” She breathed out. “It’s my bad. I should have told you I’m not really a gentle sleeper.”

I decided to try to ease the conversation towards something else to calm her. I could feel her muscles stiffen, and they became more stiff the closer I came to her. “I have a minor question,” I began, my breath noticeably haggard despite my attempts to be-still it.

Spitfire opened one eye as she adjusted herself, propping her head up with one hoof. “Shoot.”

My pulse had since slowed, and whilst I was still tired and in the space between needing to sleep and being so out of it that I couldn’t help but be awake, my curiosity had returned. Perhaps now was a time to ask the questions that I hadn’t pressed thoroughly earlier. “You mentioned that you became a captain very early because you were an instructor.”

Spitfire nodded, and I felt her hoof slide up my side enticingly as she evidently became more relaxed, the movement causing me to sink deeper into my pillow. “That’s right.”

“I find that a bit strange. It’s still something of a dramatic jump to go from a third party instructor… I presume you were initially brought in on a sort of trial period, perhaps?… and then become a captain. Certainly in such a small window of time.” I smirked. “I can’t imagine everypony was as immediately impressed with you as I am; you must have done something special to climb the ranks so fast.”

Spitfire chuckled. “Yeah, it’s not… usual.” Spitfire frowned slightly, and swallowed. “It’s a bit… embarrassing.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah. I kind of became a captain based on a failure, which is still weird to talk about.”

“What failure was that?” I asked.

Spitfire pulled away slightly, withdrawing as she talked. The easing of contact between me and her was unpleasant and cold.

“The, uh, Junior Flyer’s Contest, actually,” Spitfire admitted.

“You mean, when you heroically flew down to rescue me?” I asked, running my hoof along the base of her wings.

“Heroically? I guess. It was still a failure, though.” Spitfire’s eyes became hard, businesslike. Perhaps this was the Spitfire that Rainbow and the other Wonderbolt saw every day? Serious and sombre. “I realised that we were... unprepared for work outside of stunts. I pushed, hard, to increase training and preparedness. I insisted on performing safety drills, rescue operations, the works.”

I could tell by Spitfire’s eyes that this was something she took seriously. I hadn’t realised. I had certainly imagined to an extent that she took everything seriously, but perhaps this was something she felt more sincerely than most.

“It didn’t make a difference in the end, though. No matter how much I pushed, we still weren’t prepared for the incident with the giant dragon. We responded quickly, immediately, but it didn't change anything, so I pushed harder still. The more I pushed ponies to excel, the worse it got, and the more addicted to pushing boundaries we got. Looked great on paper, but not so much in practice." Spitfire breathed in. "Later, we had an incident at the academy. A recruit used a tornado to achieve extraordinary results, but endangered civilians.”

Realisation dawned upon me. “These are all instances I believe I was there for." I took note of Spitfire's pained expression. "I didn't realise I had such a... noticeable effect on you.”

Spitfire swallowed, and nodded. “Yeah. I don’t know what you think of me, but it’s not exactly… fun to repeatedly fail to save the same pony over and over, and then mess things up so bad you end up creating a situation where you’ve made things worse.”

She hesitated for a second, then turned away, the feathers of her wings brushing against my stomach as she put distance between me and her.

“Sorry. Didn’t mean to get gloomy. Anyway, I was made a captain because I was pushing for more safety, better training, and higher standards. The former captain couldn't keep up, so I was promoted. That's just how it was. It’s too bad I wasn’t a great choice.”

I took the distance away again. Perhaps I was being pushy, but I was getting the feeling that even before our date that evening, there had been a connection between us. On two occasions, she had tried to save my life and failed both times, and on another, it was a Wonderbolt cadet that had almost taken my life with a rogue tornado… a cadet that she had trained, and even encouraged. Strange though it might seem, these were not events I took terribly seriously. I had lived each time and gone on as usual; what else was a lady to do? Then again, I never had to feel as much responsibility for it... unlike the one who took it upon themselves to bear the burden of failure.

Yes, I could tell at that point that I meant a lot more to her than just some blind date. I was not being egotistical or self-centred; I had seen the anxiety reveal itself during dinner, and again when I had joked about knocking her out at the Junior Flyer’s Competition. I was not so enamoured that I could miss such signs when I had been so close to her as to spend the night together on our first date.

“What was your nightmare about?” I asked, though I could already guess at the answer. “It’s good to talk about these things.”

Spitfire sighed.

“I think you already know.” She became limp in my hooves as she talked. “The last thing I remembered at the Junior Flyers Contest before losing consciousness was the feeling of falling, out of control, and… your face. I see it again, every few nights.” Spitfire swallowed. “All I want is to be in control, because right then... I wasn't.”

“I’m confident you want a little more than just that.”

Spitfire’s head curled inwards. “...Yeah. I guess I want a lot of things.” She twisted back to face me. “I’ll sort it out one day. I just don’t know when.”

“Hurtling ahead as fast as you do doesn’t always mean that things work out perfectly the first time,” I said. “For me, I seem to get setback after setback, and I’m not as… well, fast as you.”

Spitfire’s eyes locked with mine. “You don’t seem to be doing that bad.”

“Not right now.”

I dove in close to kiss Spitfire, properly. It occurs to me that I’ve kissed very few ponies in my life so far. A coltfriend here and there, none of whom lasted long. Obviously I had kissed Spitfire a few times that evening as well, but this time felt more real.

I was exhausted when I woke up the next morning. Of course I would be. I had experienced a… late night, and on top of that had been woken up in the early hours of morning before dawn.

Spitfire was already fully awake and functional, adjusting her mane in the bathroom next door when I emerged, wearing my dressing gown. She looked beautiful, and I’m sure by comparison I must have seemed a monstrous creation considering my messy morning-mane and ghastly grey bags hanging beneath my eyes. I would need a coffee or two as well as a healthy amount of time spent preparing my face before I could hope to compete with anypony else, no matter how naturally stunning I was.

I wondered if perhaps this routine of being woken up in the middle of the night was common for Spitfire, hence why she seemed so on top of things. I crept up behind her and snuck my hoof around her.

“Good morning, Captain Darling.”

“Please let that not stick,” Spitfire returned with a flash of emotion halfway between irritation and endearment. “Sorry for being all mopey last night. Kinda spoiled the mood.”

“It’s all fine,” I reassured her. “You just needed an opportunity to loosen up. Besides, perhaps I rather like taking care of the secretly vulnerable sort.”

Spitfire burst into a small cackle. “Well, I felt pretty loose,” she said. “In more ways than one, too." She glanced at the light outside. "I’ve got to fly. I didn’t want to run off without saying good-morning first, but it’s a long way to Wonderbolts HQ.” She turned to me and planted a small kiss on my lips. “Can we pick this up, say, at the week-end?”

“Schedule willing, of course. You can talk to my agent.”

The Wonderbolt looked momentarily confused. “Agent?”

“Rainbow Dash, dear.” I offered her a wry smile and playful, yet gentle, nudge on the shoulder. Perhaps unladylike conduct, but I had spent most of the evening partaking in unladylike conduct and felt I had very little to lose with Spitfire.

“Oh, right.” Spitfire nodded. “How could I forget." She groaned." Rainbow is going to make such a big deal of having set this all up.”

“I’m sure you’ll be able to handle it,” I said. “Do try to remember that you don’t need to change the world all in one go. You can take your time too, if you like.”

Spitfire swallowed, and nodded. “Yes, ma’am.”

I rolled my eyes. “Oh, please let that not stick. Rarity is fine. Miss Rarity if you insist on being facetious.” I pull away, letting Spitfire leave, but not before brushing against her flanks as she does so with my tail. “I’m sure you’ll be able to save me one day.”

“Hopefully not soon,” Spitfire replied. “I mean in the sense that, you hopefully won’t be in danger soon, not that I wouldn’t be able to—”

“I quite understand.” I shooed her out of the bathroom. “Now go! You have important Wonderbolty, captain-y things to do, I’m certain.”

Spitfire trotted out. “Good luck with your projects. I’ll see you around.”

I was left alone in the bathroom to do my makeup and make myself presentable. I felt a sort of inner warmth at having had a romantic experience that wasn’t wholly emotionally devastating. I wasn’t even sure what I was going to do with all the ice-cream I had stockpiled. Donate it to Sweetie Belle, perhaps? If I was going to be dating an athlete, I needed to watch my figure to avoid any unflattering comparisons...

I heard the front door open and close, and saw Spitfire fly off into the clouds from the window. I decided to sigh wistfully, a conscious choice that I felt was appropriate for the situation. It felt very satisfying.

I then heard my front door open, and the sound of hooves clattering up the stairs to the second floor of my house. I narrowed my eyes, turned gradually towards the door, glaring furiously at the intruder.

Rainbow was bouncing gently in place, a sly smile playing her lips.

“So… how’d it go?” she asked, not even a hint, a smidge, a droplet or particle of subtlety gracing her tone.

“She’s already on her way to work,” I said, “So you should hurry or she’ll know you’re late.”

The deflection was enough for Rainbow. “Okay. Sounds like it went very well.” She sniffed the air. "Hey, did you guys drink cider? Why don't you ever bring that to our wine parties?"

I sighed dramatically. I should have known I was being spied on. I narrowed my eyes further as I watched Rainbow from the corner of my eye, still adjusting my unruly mane.

"No ulterior motives in setting me up with your Captain, then?"

"Nah, none." Rainbow picked up one of my speciality creams, gave it a sniff, and made a big show of retching before she put it down (this is why I only very briefly entertained the notion of a tryst with her; no respect for my things at all). "Well, other than that she has an absolute fixation with you. And like AJ always says; if you can't fight it, fu—"

"She does not always say that," I snap, interrupting Rainbow's crude tirade, "And when she does, it's when she is drunk, and not in that context. Anyway, regarding Spitfire's 'fixation'... I did get that impression." I applied my eyeliner with magic with an expert touch. "How did you find out?"

"I hear things."

"Of course you do. Whilst suspiciously 'napping' on a convenient overhang, typically."

"They're the most comfortable spots. Look, Spits has been getting progressively angrier ever since I met her at the Junior Flyers contest... and that was right after she almost died, so, y'know, that's a pretty high bar to clear. I heard her talk about all these rescue exercises and not 'letting another one down' and stuff, which was weird, because usually she doesn't let anypony down... except you." Rainbow tilted her head. "Which I think was unfair, because you basically knocked her out, but Spits takes stuff like that real personally..."

I glanced at Rainbow incredulously. "Are you telling me you just... put two and two together? Just like that."

"Something like that. I mean, I did have a talk with Soarin and Fleetfoot about it to make sure. And for the record, I thought you'd like her too; Spitfire's got that whole 'ambition' thing going on." She shrugged. "What? I'm not dumb."

I shake my head in mild disbelief. "It appears not." I sniff. "Well, underhanded though your strategies are, I cannot say I mind this time."

"Yeah, I bet you don't. Downstairs was a mess." Rainbow turned to leave. "Please treat her nicely. When she gets angry she takes it out on me, and I don't wanna' have to do more laps."

"As she well should, given how much trouble you cause me!" I retort playfully. Rainbow ignored me as she flies down the stairs and out the door, disappearing into the sky with a flash of vibrant colour.

I must confess that everything had gone somewhat more... enjoyably than expected, and that fact had put me in an ecstatic mood. I hum a tune as I trot downstairs to work, and reel somewhat when I see the mess I had made with all the exotic fabrics and materials I had thrown about the place.

When I was a young filly, I had always dreamt of a prince charming, as it were, to rescue me and sweep me off my hooves. Instead I got a pony who had tried twice and failed both times. I smiled as I levitated the mess back into its proper place. It was a romantic notion, but I found grace in Spitfire's failures. I was quite happy with how things had turned out.

Author's Note

EDIT: Howdy. Hap from the future here. This story started as a one-shot for a contest which I enjoyed writing so much I expanded it. It's become something of an anthology of slice-of-life snippets of Rarity and Spitfire's relationship that I update when I have a fun idea for a chapter. As such the story is somewhat irregularly updated despite having the 'complete' tag. So long as folks enjoy it and I enjoy writing it, I'll likely keep returning to the story, so if you're new, be sure to comment and let me know if you want to see more.

Hope you enjoyed the story. Have a good one.

Birthday Date

I am Captain Spitfire. Wonderbolt. Look, I’m a serious mare. I do serious things and I work hard.

Right about now it’s been close to four months since I’ve been dating Rarity. It’s been good fun, and I like her a lot. All that you really want from a relationship, right? We both keep ourselves pretty busy. Me, up in the air, and her, well, she does fashion. I keep tabs on how her career is going… not that it’s difficult, she’s in every magazine from here to the Crystal Empire. I also hear she’s popular among yaks. Not sure what’s up with that.

It’s six in the evening. Sun’s starting to go down. Carousel Boutique looks real pretty in this light. It’s, uh, a bit too pink for me usually, but now everything is getting drowned in orange, it’s taken on this nice purple tone that, frankly, I find pretty appealing. If Wonderbolt uniforms weren’t a part of the culture, I’d be wanting our sleek outfits to be purple. It’s a powerful colour.

I glanced down at the little, neatly wrapped box in my hoof. It’s not big at all. About the size of two mugs strapped together… which is an odd comparison to make, because the contents isn’t mugs. Anyway. That’s just where my mind went, I guess.

I knocked on the door. It was out of hours. I know it’s a store and I could still just go inside, but… this felt more professional. You know?

“Come in!” came Rarity’s shrill voice. I’m not the sappy sort, but yeah, my heart skipped a beat. Like, half of one. Today was a special day. Today was Rarity’s birthday, and I don’t get invited to casual birthdays. I just go to the parties hosted by Cloudsdale socialites and work colleagues. Soarin makes a mean punch, even if you’d better bring your own food. He doesn’t share well.

I get the feeling this was going to be more casual. I wanted it to go well. I had prepared as best I could. Apparently, ponies down on the surface liked getting flowers from their romantic partner. That and jewelry. After four months I felt a bit… uncomfortable with jewelry, especially considering that Rarity would know way more about it than me, so I went with the flower thing.

I pushed the door open with my free hoof and trotted inside. I was immediately hit with a wave of noise, warmth, and various sickly-sweet smells. Close to a dozen ponies were all lounging in the main room, holding plastic cups of juice. Right. Rarity had other friends.

I was going to have to do the small talk thing.

Rarity swayed across the room towards me, wearing the cutest little paper hat you’ve ever seen. She was as pristine as ever… minus mornings… and was damn near glowing with contentment. Behind her I could see two of her friends, Rainbow Dash and, uh… the orange one… unpacking what I’m pretty sure was cider. Hard.

“Why hello there Captain Darling,” Rarity murmured coyly. “Had a nice day at the office I hope?”

Normally I’d be the sort to do something coy right back at her… escalate. Not today, though. “Happy birthday… ma’am.” I held the package out towards her.

Rarity levitated it out of my hooves and began unwrapping it. Beside her, Rainbow Dash emerged like a flash. “Hey hey, Captain!”

I groaned. “I’m not on duty right now. Just…” I grit my teeth. “Just Spitfire will be fine for today.”

Rainbow whistled. “Wow, I get to call you Spits. I thought only Soarin and Fleetfoot could do that?”

“I said Spitfire.”

Rarity giggled, and opened her present. Her eyes widened. “Goodness! A… cactus!”

I blushed. “Yeah, I don’t know surface flowers very well, but I saw this one and thought of you.”

Rarity glanced up at me. “Did you now?”

I looked down at the little prickly plant. “Do you… not like it?”

Rarity dove in towards my cheek and planted a large kiss on it. I was already pretty orange by nature, but I just got redder. “I love it. It’ll go wonderfully on the mantelpiece.”

I grinned. Glad that worked out.

“Hey, Spitfire, want to help us get some real glasses for the cider? It’s good stuff from AJ’s farm.”

The door behind me swung open, bumping me on the flank. Rarity leaned around me and lit up like a spotlight. “Twilight!”

Yeah, it was a good time to go and help out Rainbow Dash. “Sure thing, I’ll help out.”

Once the party got more into the swing of things, I relaxed a lot more. It was less fancy than I had expected from a party involving my elegant, fashionable marefriend. More… homely. Apparently it had been largely planned by this pink bundle of sugar that kept refilling my punch glass whenever it was even close to half-empty.

“That’s Pinkie,” Rainbow explained, leaning against the orange pony I had noted before, who apparently went by Applejack, or ‘AJ’. I logged this in my mind for future reference. I had seen the mare before, obviously, but now I had a name to put to the face.

“Pinkie, huh?” I asked. I pointed towards one of the others. “What about that one? Pretty sure I’ve seen her hang around you as well. Also a friend?”

“That’s Fluttershy,” Applejack said. “She’s a lil’ quiet but she’s a real nice pony.”

“She often goes on spa trips with Rarity. They’re good friends,” Rainbow said.

I bristled a little. Rarity didn’t go on spa trips with me. Then again, we did both keep busy schedules. I pushed the mild jealousy to one side, making an internal note to take Rarity on a trip myself. It’d be fun.

“That dragon?”

“Spike. He lives with Twilight.” Rainbow leaned in towards my ear. “He has kind of a crush on Rarity.”

I let out a small laugh, then stifled it. “Sorry. That was mean.”

“He’s a very nice sort. You ever visited the Crystal Empire?” Applejack asked me. Obviously I nodded. “They worship him as a hero there.”

“Do they now? Now you mention it, I do remember hearing something along those lines…”

Applejack shook her head, smiling. “How’d you not hear about that? It was all over the papers.”

“Spits here only cares about flying,” Rainbow said, nudging me in the ribs. I glowered at her in response. “Well, flying and Rarity I guess.”

I sighed. “I don’t just care about flying,” I retorted, but it was a pretty hollow comeback. Truth be told, Rainbow was kind of right. My life revolved around flying. It always had, ever since I was a young filly. I had been the first in my class to get my mark, so I had always been marked for greatness in the field. I had been so focussed on flying and competing that I had even grown up faster to accommodate it.

It was just who I was, I guess.

“Is she doing okay? I heard she set up a shop in Manehattan.”

Rainbow nodded. “Yeah, absolutely. She’s gotten busier, though!”

“Manehattan moves real fast. I ain’t sure I could keep up if I were her!” Applejack added. “It’s like it’s second nature to her.”

I smiled to myself. That was good. When your work life was going well, it was hard to not have that satisfaction carry over to your personal life. At least, in my experience. If Rarity was doing well, then I was damn happy for her.

I felt a heavy weight hit me on my left flank, as Rarity mock-collapsed into me from the side. “Where have you been, then?” she asked, levitating a half-empty glass of wine. “I have had to drink all this by myself with no assistance from you.” She rolled her eyes. “Do you know how hard that’s been?”

I let out an unprofessional giggle. “Well we can’t have that.”

Rarity pointed at Rainbow. “And… you... said you wouldn’t let Pinkie get near anything stronger than orange juice, and look what she’s doing now!”

Rainbow groaned, and pulled away from Applejack. With a flap of her wings she soared over me to the other side of the room, and disappeared into the crowd. I wasn’t sure what Pinkie was doing now, and I didn’t want to know. Knowing meant I’d be complicit in ignoring the problem.

“Enjoying the party?” I asked Rarity.

“It’s divine, darling,” Rarity said, swirling her glass of wine. “Especially this. It’s from the Crystal Empire, apparently! Gift from Twilight’s family.”

I made a mental note. Wine: good gift.

“Uh huh.” I reached a hoof towards the glass. “May I?”

Rarity nodded. “By all means!”

I took a sip. It was always good to stay on top of the stuff the Cloudsdale socialites would find impressive. Wine was one of them. I swirled the wine around in my mouth for a second, savouring the flavour. Nice. Kind of cherry-ish.

“Pretty good.” I swallowed. “Ooh, has a nice aftertaste, doesn’t it?”

“Doesn’t it indeed!” Rarity leaned into me heavily. “Where has this been all my life?”

I smiled, and leaned back into her. She was soft and warm; the Carousel felt pretty sweaty now that there were so many ponies inside, dancing and moving and drinking.

Rarity closed her eyes briefly. “Goodness, I’m so tired.”

“That’ll be because this is your fourth glass,” I quipped, gently putting the glass down before her levitation spell failed. “No wonder you’re starting to feel a bit sleepy.”

Rarity looked up at me through squinted eyes. “I have barely had any! How rude of you, accusing a lady of… of… disorderly behaviour.”

I laughed heartily. “I take it all back then. My bad.” I glanced towards the sofa. “That said, fancy a sit down? I’ve been on my hooves all day and I’m pretty sure I can’t feel them any more.”

The party had, largely, died down by this point. It was black outside and the only ponies left in the Boutique were myself, Rarity (of course), Applejack, Rainbow, and Twilight. Me and Rarity were on the couch. I was sat up (mostly) straight, and Rarity lounged on top of me like a heavy, horned blanket.

“It’s nice to get together like this,” Twilight said. “It’s felt like ages since you’ve been able to have a party like this with all of us, Rarity.”

Rarity made a small noise indicating agreement.

I still, honestly, wasn’t sure how to behave around Twilight Sparkle. She was a princess, and therefore technically my superior, even if I also didn’t report to her due to some pretty complicated internal shenanigans set up in Cloudsdale bureaucracy. Was I supposed to be casual? Or sort of casual, but my best casual?

I considered imitating Rarity, but right now that would mean also falling mostly asleep on wine. I decided that would be a bad strategy, although I was starting to get sleepy myself.

“I think she’s out of it,” Applejack said. “Well, ‘least she looks comfortable.”

Rainbow Dash was curled up between Applejack and Twilight, not unlike a cat. She also looked asleep. I finally allowed myself to relax. At last, I could talk without worrying about Rainbow Dash gossiping to the other ‘Bolts.

“You know, it’s pretty nice to meet you all properly.” I gestured towards Applejack. “‘Specially you. Rainbow talks about you a lot.”

Applejack raised an eyebrow. “Oh yeah?”

“Yeah. It’s always ‘Applejack this’ and ‘Applejack that’ whenever we’re training." I leaned in a bit. "I hear you do contests and stuff too.”

“Only now’n then.” Applejack glanced towards Rainbow Dash. “Uh, what else does she say?”

Spitfire shrugged. “Uh, normal stuff, I suppose? I’ll be honest, I only listen to her about one-third of the time.”

Twilight yawned. “Well, that’s about enough for me. I’m going home to get some sleep.” She got to her hooves. “Very nice meeting you, Spitfire. I see the Wonderbolts are in good hooves!”

I chuckled. “Yeah, well… we’ll see about that, I guess.”

“Don’t jinx it,” Applejack joked. She got to her hooves.

“You heading as well?”

“Me? I was going to get a refill of cider. Want some?”

I felt Rarity stir on top of me. Just as well. I needed to go to the bathroom.

“Where is everypony?” Rarity asked, glancing at me.

I gestured around the boutique. “Well, Twilight went home. I think you were awake for Fluttershy escorting Pinkie away. And it looks like Applejack has fallen asleep on Rainbow Dash, so that’s where they are.” I looked at Rarity’s blinking, oblivious expression. “Hey gorgeous.”

Rarity lifted herself off of me, stretching her back. “I hope I didn’t miss much.” She smiled at me. “It’s your fault for being too comfortable. You sent me straight to sleep.”

“Sorry about that. It’s the extra floof.” I rubbed my chest, ruffling the thick, double-layered hair that made up my orange coat. “Just the way I’m built.”

Rarity got to her hooves. “Well I should get a blanket for Applejack and Rainbow or they’ll catch their death of cold.” She glanced over at me. “You are, I hope, staying for the evening?”

I nodded. “That was the plan.”

“It’s a good plan. I thoroughly approve.” Rarity levitated a large, thick blanket over the two sleeping ponies on the carpet. “There. All done.” She looked back at me. “Now then.” She tilted her stance alluringly. “I expect you to treat me especially well this evening. It is my birthday after all.”

“That was the plan.”

“A good plan.”

I trotted to Rarity and extended my wing around her. “After you, ma’am.”

We both walked, leaning heavily against one another away from the main room of the boutique and up the stairs. Rarity rubbed the side of her head against my neck. It was nice.

“You looked pretty tired back there. You sure you don’t just want to go to sleep?”

“It’s my birthday and I’ll make bad decisions if I want to,” Rarity insisted with a pout. “Besides, I’ve been working especially hard all month and I want to blow off steam.”

“Oh yeah?” I escorted Rarity into her room. “You look to be on top of things, though.”

Rarity snorted. “And I expect to remain on top of things, as well.” She smirked, before her face fell slightly. “In reality I think I’ve been barely keeping things together.”

I wrapped my hoof around hers. “Well I think you’ve been doing excellently. If you were a Wonderbolt I’d be giving you a… uh…”

“A what?” Rarity asked me.

“...At least an eight.”

“At least!” She recoiled with mock dramatic effect. “You’re so harsh, captain. Was opening a store in Manehattan and Canterlot not enough for you?”

“...maybe a nine.”

Rarity giggled. “Well that’s already a bit better, isn’t it?” She sighed. “I’m not sure how you do it. It seems so hard to get ahead in this profession. Any tips for a hardworking fashionista?”

“Fashion tips?” I asked. “From me?”

“No, about… you know. You’re the world’s top flyer right now. How do you keep it going?” Rarity tilted her head forwards. “I’m curious.”

“Well… mostly I just don’t think about much else.” I swallowed. “Sorry if that sounds kind of anticlimactic.”

“Yes but, what if you also had a large number of friends you wanted to keep happy, and a younger sister to take care of, and hobbies and travel and… I don’t know, everything else?”

I hesitated. A different pony might be a bit insulted that she had implied I didn’t have friends, but… well, it was true. I had colleagues. Contacts. Only really the one friend.

“I don’t know, Rarity,” I admitted. “I’m… not sure I’d be able to balance it out.”

Rarity sighed, and rested the tip of her nose on my neck. “Well… that’s disappointing. I was hoping you’d know.” She paused for a moment. “I suppose I’ll just keep on being tired, then.”

What was this? Did Rarity honestly think I was special? I’m not a wizard. I have to balance my time and attention like everypony else. I don’t have a shortcut.

“Sorry to disappoint.”

Rarity chuckled. “Oh, you never disappoint.” She smirked. “Except perhaps in the area of botanical knowledge.”

“Is this about the cactus? You said you liked it.”

“I do. It’s very sweet. And it is technically a flower.”

“What do you mean technically?” I asked. There was a rule I knew that if you had to use the word technically when saying something, it didn’t actually count. “Do ponies not like cactuses?”

“It’s cacti. And they’re not… customary.” Rarity smirked. “I think that makes yours a little more special, though.”

I relaxed a bit. “Well, okay then.” I tilted my head. “Anyway, don’t… feel the need to rush through your career if it hurts everything else, yeah? You’ve got plenty of time to climb that ladder.”

“If I don’t hurry, how else would I compete with you?”

I winced. “I’d rather you didn’t. I’m very competitive.”

“Ho ho, think you can maintain your lead forever, do you?” Rarity joked. “Well, when I own a dozen stores across Equestria, then you’ll be sorry!”

“Oh will I?” I asked.

“Yes. Now, speaking of being on top of things…”

Rarity gave me a forceful shove backwards onto the bed with a greedy smirk. I landed heavily, exhaling rapidly. She then jumped onto the bed with me, resting on top of my chest and barrel. I felt my blood rush through me, and I could feel the heat take over the unicorn on top of me as well.

“Any requests?” Rarity asked.

“Why ask me? It’s your birthday.”

“I’ll have you know I’m the element of Generosity.” She flicked her mane back. “You’re welcome.”

I bit my lip. “Well, since you ask…”

Rarity raised her eyebrow. “It had better not be something too pedestrian.”

“Well, I can’t help but notice that you do have a unicorn horn…” I began.

Rarity’s eyebrow raised further, practically beginning to enter the stratosphere. “I do know several interesting spells, if that’s what you’re getting at. I have a spellbook in my bedside cabinet if you’re curious…”

I blushed heavily. “I, uh, was thinking of something a bit more penetrative.”

Rarity went quiet for a moment.

“Well, I’ll try anything once.”

Sunlight illuminated the Carousel Boutique’s interior, falling across Rainbow Dash’s scrunched up face. She blinked furiously, and groaned, throwing the blanket off of her.

“Ugh!” She rolled onto her side. “I feel like I’ve been sleeping on the floor.” She looked around her, and at the carpet she was sitting on. “Oh.”

I held out a cup of coffee to the sleepy pegasus. “Morning, Dash.”

Rainbow glanced up at me with bleary eyes. She rolled her neck and extended her hoof, taking the mug and sipping at it slowly. “Morning, Spits.”

“Spitfire to you.”

“Uuuuuugh…”

I leaned back into the couch. Rainbow looked to the side.

“Where’s AJ?”

“She woke up before you and headed back to the farm. Said she had ‘chores’.”

“Oh, okay.”

“You looked pretty comfy on her last night though,” I said, a modest degree of teasing inserted into my tone. Rainbow went purple in response.

“Y-yeah, whatever.” She breathed out. “How was your night, Spits?”

Memories of flashing pain flooded back to me. I crossed my legs instinctively and shuddered at the recollection of the intense discomfort. “Uh… mistakes were made, but otherwise… fine.”

“What mistakes?”

“Nothing that concerns you, Dash.”

Rainbow held her hooves up in defeat. “Whatever, then.” She took another sip of coffee. “Rarity still asleep?”

“Yeah. I figured I’d let her rest.”

“Yeah. She’s been pretty overworked recently.”

“I had… kinda noticed.” I scratched the back of my head. “I hadn’t thought it was a big deal, honestly. I guess I’m just used to working you guys real hard so I didn’t notice the stress getting to her.”

“Yeah, well, dresses and sewing and stuff is apparently, like, stressful.” Rainbow sipped her drink. “At least with flying you can work out and just… be good. You don’t need to think about it all the time.”

I narrowed my eyes. “The fact you don’t think about it all the time is what holds you back, Dash.”

Rainbow rolled her eyes. “Ugh, I know, I know.”

I picked up a cup of coffee of my own and took a long sip. It worried me, frankly. Rarity tried to do so much more than I did and I was too much of a workaholic to notice it get to her. “Do me a favour, Dash…”

“Yeah?”

“Take care of Rarity, yeah? She looks like she needs good friends watching her back.”

Rainbow raised her eyebrow. “She’s your marefriend. Do it yourself.”

“Dash…”

“Yeah, yeah, I know. But seriously, you should do it yourself. She really likes you.” Rainbow got to her hooves. “The more ponies watching her back, the better, right?”

I had to admit that Rainbow had a point. “You’re not wrong.”

“Then again, Rarity can take care of herself. You know she kicked a manticore in the face once?”

“She did what?” I asked, feeling an immense sense of concern overwhelm me.

“Yeah, she’s like… got this unicorn kick-fu thing going on.” Rainbow tilted her head. “You’re telling me you’ve never seen it?”

“Well it… would explain how she’s so flexible.”

“Eugh. I didn’t need to hear that, Spits.”

“Spitfire.”

“Whatever.” Rainbow turned to leave. “I’ve got to go and make sure Tank has salad. I’ll be seeing you around.”

I leaned back, running my hoof through my mane. “Yeah. See you around.”

I put the mug down and rested my head against the cushions. Truth be told, I felt pretty tired myself. I hadn’t gotten much sleep.

“I should take Rarity out more often,” I muttered to myself. “That’d be good.”

Author's Note

Yeah, I updated a completed story with no warning, because I do what I want.

Consider this additional, optional chapter something of an experiment. I don't usually do continuations, so this is a new one for me. Hope you enjoy it. Cheerio.

Cloudsdale Date

Hello darling. It’s me again. I hope you haven’t missed me too much; I know that the Captain can be a little dry at times. Oh, she can use vocabulary, paint a picture with words if she wants to, but given complete freedom to say what she wants, she’d rather leave it to a short quip, a brief instruction, or sly comeback.

Today, I was standing amongst the glorious pillars and arches of Cloudsdale, bathing in the majesty of the skies. Beneath me the world opened up like an ocean, waiting for me to fall inside… which was a feeling I have already been unpleasantly acquainted with. I had told my Captain that whilst I was more than happy to stay with her during my sojourn to the grand halls of the ancient Dashington Estate, I would insist most firmly on her having a sturdy set of railings for my own peace of mind.

Even standing on firm, polished cloudstone with ample floor space around me in every direction, I felt nervous. Anxiety was ever gnawing at the very edges of my mind. If I was going to fall, I would at least prefer to do it with Rainbow Dash around… not to criticise my Captain, but Rainbow had a stronger track record of saving me. Were I still single I also wouldn’t overly mind another rescue in Thunderlane’s hooves, as a distant third choice.

The Wonderbolt Branch in Cloudsdale was not far from where I was standing… supposedly. I had never been before, and even if I had, the complex streets of the pegasus city were not designed for the ground-bound tribes below. They twisted and turned and rose and fell in all dimensions at once, with bridges connecting the distant blocks. Some were impossible to reach aside from one specific direction, and some were entirely inaccessible. Cloudsdale had only recently renovated to allow for other tribes to visit easily, and not every block had moved with the times.

I struggled to use my magic to drag my luggage with me. Spitfire had told me she only had a small amount of space in her apartment, and to only bring the essentials, and I had done so. I only had a selection of two dozen dresses and hats for the three most crucial occasions (those being an emergency wedding, an emergency coronation, and if El Fabuloso the Grand had been sighted within twenty miles), my bare-bones cosmetics kit, a set of horseshoes, a replacement set of horseshoes, and an alternative replacement set of horseshoes in case the winds of fashion changed abruptly, and only the mist minimalistic of entertainment options, that being six books I was in the process of reading. Oh, and a bottle of wine for the Captain. Magnum bottle, obviously, since Rainbow Dash was somewhere on this hemisphere and you can never be too careful.

The temperature this high up was somewhat frigid. I felt able to acknowledge this without feeling its effects, since I was exerting myself carrying my things. I hoped Spitfire had plenty of blankets.

“Excuse me!” I exclaimed, trying to attract the attention of a passer-by. “I’m looking for the Wonderbolts Headquarters in Cloudsdale?”

A tall, somewhat stubbly pegasus gestured roughly north. “Follow this path and then go through the casino… that’s through the casino, not around… and then there’s a bridge that’ll lead you to Wonder Square. Take the stairs down…”

Down? Ah yes. Three dimensions. Of course, how could I forget.

I did my best to commit the directions to memory, and carried on. The novelty of the grandiose city was beginning to get lost on me. I had already been suitably amazed for half an hour since I arrived by balloon… why they couldn’t take me directly to the Headquarters was beyond me.

I winced as my suitcase got caught on a small crack in the cloudstone slabs.

“Oh, by Celestia’s shiny…”

“Miss Rarity?”

The voice triggered some memories inside my head. It was soft and somewhat plain. I turned and looked up. “Mister Soarin?”

The Wonderbolt swooped down and landed next to me. I had been saved. The universe had, in my time of greatest need, sent me a strong stallion to carry my bags, just as I knew it would if. The universe was, I always said, a gentlecolt, but only if you treated it right.

“I’m glad you’re here!” I told him. “I’m trying to get to Wonderbolts Headquarters.”

Soarin glanced at me, and then at my bags. “Um, yeah. I actually work there.”

“Really?” I said, trying my best to be nice and polite, but accidentally slipping down into the rabbit-hole of sarcasm. “I would appreciate some directions.”

“Do you… need a helping hoof?” Soarin asked.

“Oh, what a gentlecolt!” I said, and levitated the handle of my luggage to Soarin. “Such a darling. Lead on!”

It was probably for the best that I had bumped into Soarin; the way to Spitfire’s office was long and winding, with stairs to follow. It took ten minutes at a brisk trot before we saw the elaborate statues of ancient Wonderbolts displaying the large, monolithic structure ahead as being the centre of all Wonderbolt activity in Cloudsdale and beyond.

“You know, you’re kind of not what I expected,” Soarin said as we approached the grand double-doors. “When the Captain said she had found a partner.”

“Oh?” I asked, curious.

“Yeah. You seem, uh…” Soarin stopped, pondering his choice of words. “I want to say, ‘classy’, but that sounds mean to the Captain…”

“Well, you’re not wrong,” I replied. “Perhaps you thought she might be more interested in somepony more down-to-earth?”

I instantly regretted my choice of words. Just mentioning the term ‘down-to-earth’ brought to mind mental scenarios of Applejack somehow coming between me and yet another romantic interest. I reminded myself that Applejack would never do something like that to me... but the old embarrassment never truly left me. I dispelled the old insecurities. Besides, I was fairly sure Applejack was straight.

“Down-to-earth isn’t really what I’d describe either…” Soarin went on.

“Well, there must be a suitable adjective somewhere in the thesaurus,” I commented. “When you find out what it is, be sure to let me know.”

Soarin chuckled to himself. “Yeah, will do, ma’am.”

I rolled my eyes. “Not you too,” I groaned. “Please, a lady should only suffer to be called ma’am if she is either in a uniform, or over the age of forty five, and I am neither.” I snorted. “I’m convinced Spitfire does it just to get on my nerves.”

“She would do that, too,” Soarin said. He put my luggage down by the door. “We can leave this here. The Captain should be, uh, introducing the new recruits to their roles.”

“Is Rainbow Dash here?”

“Flying a routine. She’s working late because Spitfire caught her napping.”

“Oh, well, I shan’t disturb her then.”

As much as I would have liked to butt in and say hello to my friend, Spitfire would moan about it for hours if I did.

I trotted through the corridors, several of the Wonderbolt staff nodding to me as I went. I felt a little like a celebrity of sorts… everypony seemed to know who I was instinctively. I confess I enjoyed the attention. I see gossip was alive and well amongst the Wonderbolts.

“...And if I see any of your sorry flanks slacking, I’ll introduce you to Rainbow Dash! You can help her practice her routine until nightfall!”

Spitfire’s lungs were as healthy as ever, I heard. Despite having been in a relationship with her for close to a year now, I hadn’t ever really heard her at work. I resolved to creep closer so I could watch her without distracting her.

Spitfire was outside, where there was a large open space. A single landing strip separated the wide space, upon which a dozen pegasi, all wearing sleek uniforms were standing. One of them was wearing a pair of delightful shades… perpetually out of season, but always appropriate for the outdoors. The uniform, I admit, does not do as much for me as perhaps the elegant, sleek, tight-fitting flying uniforms that a Wonderbolt wears during exercises, but there is an air of authority inherent to the folds and dark navy blue of a commander’s uniform. Of course I refer to Captain Spitfire herself, who was standing separate from the other pegasi, pacing back and forth in front of them.

“Get in the air!” she shouted.

At once, the other pegasi all lurched upwards. I detected a certain lack of elegance in their movements, something just a little in need of refining. Perhaps I had spent too long alongside Rainbow Dash and Spitfire to not expect the same level of fluid, seamless motion.

“Joyride! You’re stiff!” Spitfire bellowed. I found myself tensing up without thinking. I had never been around Spitfire when she was this commanding, and I was surprised.

I waited a while for Spitfire to finish her exercise. After ten or so minutes which I spent leaning against the low wall over the runway, Spitfire’s eye was cast in my direction. Even from this distance I detected a flash of brighter red across her cheeks. She was embarrassed.

“G-get down here!” she ordered, a delightful, cute stammer butchering her otherwise authoritative statement. I giggled knowing that I was the cause, although I really oughtn’t have. I trotted towards my partner, sensing she was just wrapping up.

“Joyride, you need to limber up more before you fly. You were falling through the clouds like a plank of wood,” Spitfire grumbled. “And Gale…”

I stopped just on the runway, a small distance away. Spitfire harrumphed, flustered.

“...just hit the showers.”

The trainee Wonderbolts trotted… or, in the case of one unfortunate pegasus, staggered… past me. One of the girls looked at Spitfire, and then myself, and let out a low whistle. I put on a show of ignoring it.

“Hey there, Rarity,” Spitfire said, walking up towards me. “You’re early.”

“A lady is always punctual,” I countered, and pecked Spitfire on the cheek before leaning in conspiratorially. “You never told me you could shout like that.”

Spitfire tensed, going redder by the second. “I… yeah, well, you know, shouting and blowing my whistle is sort of, uh, the job…”

“Have you been hiding this talent from me?” I asked coyly. “Rainbow always said you were strict but I had assumed she was exaggerating.”

“I’m not strict. I’m just… firm.”

“I’ll say. You must show me later.”

Spitfire spluttered. “I’m not sure that’s a good idea…”

I leaned in towards her ear. “I insist,” I whispered with a smile. I do so enjoy it when Captain Spitfire gets flustered. Before Spitfire could transition from a healthy orange to a bright tomato red, I leaned away and clapped my hooves together. “So then! This is Cloudsdale!”

“Yes,” Spitfire said, and coughed, resuming her usual composure. “I hope you’ve enjoyed it so far?”

“It’s been appalling! Non-pegasus access is ridiculous, darling, and the streets are in dire need of improved signage. It is, however, an absolute work of art, if I say so myself.”

“Cloudsdale has been trying to be more open,” Spitfire said. She sighed, and looked out towards the horizon. “Today’s been a day. I’m in pretty dire need of getting rescued, honestly. Shall we get going?”

I wrapped my hoof around Spitfire’s. “About time, I’d say. You know, I have invitations to Lady Dashington’s Extravagant Extraordinaire, and I’m sure the guests would be enthralled to see the Captain of the most famous flying team in Equestria attend.”

Spitfire smirked. “Making connections as usual, then?”

“I intend to do some modest mingling,” I replied. “I hear that we’re leaving Rainbow Dash behind?”

“Yup. Lazy piece of work has got to get her routine finished before dawn.”

“Shall we at least let her know where we’re headed in case she gets it memorized early?”

Spitfire groaned. “I’m not really sure…”

“Oh, please. I brought a magnum bottle expecting her to be there. I can’t possibly drink it all myself.”

Spitfire groaned louder. “I told you to only bring the essentials!”

“I did. You’ll see, you’ll be proud of how utterly unequipped I am,” I promised.

We reached the exit to the building, and I gestured towards my luggage. It was tiny, I swear, only twice the size of Spitfire herself. I’ve no idea why she was complaining.

“Rarity…” she began.

A pegasus approached Spitfire from behind. He was tall, muscular, and had a very charismatic moustache. I'd say somewhere around his forties? “Captain… Fire Streak has left some of his things behind. Do you have his address in Fillydelphia so we can send them to him?” The stallion then glanced my way. “Oh, apologies. Didn’t realise you were with the lady.”

Spitfire grumbled. “Y-yes, this is Rarity. She’s my… um, lady, as you say.”

“A pleasure,” I began, offering my hoof to the stallion. “I insist you take good care of my Captain, darling.”

“Will do, miss. I’m Tight Ship.” He shook my hoof.

Spitfire sighed. I don’t know why I derived such perverse pleasure from putting her on the spot. Spitfire typically oozed confidence in an… intoxicating manner. It made the moments when she seemed unsure all the sweeter.

“Right, right, yes.” Spitfire scratched her head. “I know his address, sure. Just… I’ll give it to you tomorrow, okay? It’s written in my office and I need to take care of Rarity.”

“Oh don’t feel the need to hurry on my account,” I said, basking in the attention the other pegasi were offering me. “You do what you need to do.”

Spitfire hung her head for a moment before stiffening, resigned to taking charge. “Right. Wait here, Rarity. Tight Ship, I’ll be back shortly.” Spitfire flashed me a sinister glare as she walked away. “Don’t… don’t do anything I wouldn’t.”

I waved at Spitfire as she left, smiling broadly. Tight Ship glanced my way.

“Does the Captain not trust you or something?”

I chuckled. “Oh, certainly not.” I turned towards Tight Ship. “You must tell me everything about Spitfire, quickly. Before she gets back!” I danced a little on the spot. “I must hear all the gossip.”

Tight Ship gave me a cautious look. “Um… there’s not much to say?”

“Ha! I don’t believe that for a second.”

“Ma’am, if I gossip about the captain behind her back, she’ll tan my hide.” Tight Ship stood up straight. “I can’t…”

“I can!” Soarin trotted down the corridor. “I know lots of stuff about Spitfire! And she’ll never get rid of me. I'm a crucial element of the team.”

“Only because you’re like a fungus, Soarin!” Tight countered. “You grow on people! And stick!”

“Yup.” Soarin smiled. “Truth be told, though, the Captain usually keeps a tight lid on rumours. Ever since the magazine Fashion Foals posted an article about you and her, she’s been kinda lying low.”

“Does she not like the attention?”

“No, she’s fine with attention. I just don’t think she likes other ponies knowing she has, you know. Interests. In ponies.”

Tight Ship grumbled. “It don’t help that there are some elements in Cloudsdale that don’t all approve of that sort of thing.”

Soarin glanced at Tight Ship, his expression darkening for a second. Tight Ship sighed.

“I weren’t supposed to say that, was I?”

“No. We don’t talk about that,” Soarin muttered. He gloomily clicked his tongue, resigned to having to explain it to me anyway.

“What’s that?” I asked.

“Traditionalists. Some of them think that a flyer like Spitfire should be, uh… with a pegasus. You know, strengthen the old bloodline and stuff like that. Old-fashioned silly stuff.” Soarin shrugged apologetically. “Sorry. Cloudsdale is pretty isolated from a lot of progress that happens down on the ground, and the old guard like to keep it that way. But Spitfire has it handled.”

“I had no idea that I was… controversial,” I said. “I’d feel a little excited if I wasn’t, well, a little concerned for Spitfire. Will she be all right?”

“Like I said, the Captain has it handled. It’s not her I’m worried about…”

“Who’s worrying?” Spitfire asked.

All three of us jumped. Spitfire looked between us, and exhaled. “You’re all trying my patience. Especially you, ma’am.”

“No-o-o, don’t call me that!” I whined as Spitfire dragged me away like a misbehaving toddler. “You know I hate it! It makes me sound old!” I let my partner pull me away from the other pegasi. "A whole year I've put up with this barbarism!"

Spitfire grabbed my luggage in one hoof, threw a note to Tight Ship with the other, and wrapped her wing around me, pulling me away. “You are old. An old, devious trickster!” She turned back to Soarin and Tight Ship. “Don’t listen to her honeyed words! She’ll convince you of anything!”

“Convinced you all right, Captain,” Soarin quipped.

“I’ll have you do laps tomorrow, Soarin, mark my words…”

Some of the onlookers giggled. Spitfire rolled her eyes and escorted me out of the building.

“They didn’t say anything… too compromising, I hope.”

“Only some gossip about you and myself,” I replied. We stepped out into the outside, the sun beginning to hang low in the horizon. “They said you had it under control, though.”

“Right. Yeah, I do. Nothing else?”

“No. Why?”

“Nothing to do with a skipping rope, my admittance to the Wonderbolts party, and a bucket of cider?”

“Definitely not, but I wish I heard that story.”

“If I have my way, you never will.”

I groaned. “You’re so boring sometimes, darling.”

“You wouldn’t say that if you knew the story!” Spitfire quipped. She tugged at the heavy luggage. “I’m not sure I have enough space in my flat for this.”

“Well, it only has to last long enough for me to finish my business here and then return off to Ponyville. You’d like that? Then you can come visit again like you used to.” I pouted. “It’s been lonely over there recently. You’ve been busy.”

“Sorry about that. Fire Streak quit.”

“Is that a big deal?”

“Kinda. He was my teacher. And… well, it was kind of my fault he’s gone, so it’s my mess to clean up.”

“Oh.” I sensed I had trodden on a rare nerve that I didn’t want to prod. “Are you all right?”

“I’m fine.”

“You’re always fine,” I retorted. “I want to know if you’re all right.”

Spitfire looked around at the crowd of pegasi milling about, minding their own business. A few looked her way… taking in the athletic, beautiful pegasus athlete in full Wonderbolt uniform. She shook her head.

“I’ll tell you later. I just want to get home with you right now.” Spitfire smiled at me and leaned closer.

“Am I even allowed to kiss you in public?” I asked, toying with her. “I hear I’m something of a controversial partner for the leader of the Wonderbolts.”

“I have it under control. Nopony owns me but you.”

“Oh, that was a cheesy one,” I said, and let Spitfire kiss me on the nose.

“I practiced that line in front of the mirror all week. Hope you liked it.”

“I do. Come on, I want to see what a Wonderbolt Captain’s apartment looks like.”

“It’s barren!”

Spitfire stood in her modest studio apartment, looking around herself. There was a small space for cooking… only room for a measly two pans. A sink that could barely contain a single mug at a time, and a cupboard that, if I wasn’t mistaken, only contained two plates, two bowls, and one clear glass cup.

The desk was the only thing in the room that held anything resembling decoration, but unfortunately said decoration was a blanket of papers, diagrams, and flying routines. I had seen some of them before when Spitfire brought them over to the Boutique. A year later and she still had the nerve to work before, after, and on one occasion I was not happy about, during our romantic meetings.

“What’s wrong with my place?”

“Well, I knew you were a very practical mare, it’s just… well, there aren’t even any pictures!” I strode throughout the room, which was difficult considering the lack of space. “This won’t do. I’ll have decorations sent within the month.”

Spitfire rubbed her forehead. “It’s fine, I’m used to it being pretty empty…”

“Only because you never have anypony over!” I pointed at the bed. “What is this?”

“It’s my bed.”

“It is a single bed. For single ponies. Where am I supposed to go?”

“I thought we could cuddle?”

“We’ll practically be inside one another if we sleep together in that. Which… well we certainly wouldn’t be able to keep that up all night.”

“We could try.”

“All week? I’m as enthusiastic as you are, but let’s be realistic.”

“... I told you there wasn’t a lot of space. I can’t get a double bed because then I wouldn’t have room to do my stretches and morning workout…”

“Why insist on living in a tiny flat, then?”

“It’s close to work. And also to my favourite bar.” Spitfire took me by the hoof. “And also this.”

She drew back the curtains and pulled me to the window. My breath escaped me.

There were two sides to Cloudsdale; skyside and earthside. One would often assume that skyside was the more coveted of the two, but this was a wrong assumption. There wasn’t much in the sky. Just a lot of blue. No clouds, either; those were all beneath you.

Earthside was the true treasure. Mountains and fields and cities, all lying in the multicoloured shadow of rainbows and clouds and snowflakes. A kaleidoscope of rays danced through the air, showering the ever-changing landscape below in a myriad of hues.

“I always wanted an earthside view,” Spitfire said. “It’s one of the only precious things about this district.”

“It’s magnificent.”

“Yes, it is. It never really gets old.” Spitfire smiled, peering through the window and down at Equestria. “I grew up skyside.”

“So did Rainbow Dash, I think.”

“Only early on. Her family live in an earthside place now. It’s even got a little farm.” Spitfire breathed out. “Skysiders often never leave the factories. Even the middle districts have job mobility.”

“What about your family?”

“Mother left Cloudsdale for a place with more opportunity. I send her money now and then.” The pegasus captain adjusted herself to be more comfortable, leaning her weight against the handle of the window. “It’s another barrier to me getting a better place, but it’s fine. I’ve got all I need.”

I tore my eyes away from the opulent view and towards my partner. She seemed pensive. Of course, she always seemed a little pensive… like there was always something she was focussing on behind her eyes.

“You mentioned trouble with Fire Streak?”

“Not trouble-trouble,” Spitfire explained, going to sit on her bed. “He’s getting old and decided to go teach aerobatics in Fillydelphia. He might have made captain if I hadn’t tore my way through the ranks, so that already makes me feel a bit guilty. Still, he’d have stayed if I had made different calls.”

“Which calls?” I asked, sitting down next to Spitfire.

“I’ve been trying to retrain the Bolts to be more… rescue oriented. You know this; I think I told you way back when, when we first started going out.”

“I recall.”

“It’s not been easy. The Wonderbolts have already transitioned from being elite scouts and messengers for the EUP to being a mostly sports and competition team. Now I want to change it again. Fire Streak said he was too old to learn new tricks, and said he was leaving.” Spitfire, in a rare moment of vulnerability, rested her head against my shoulder. “I didn’t expect that I’d drive my Bolts away.”

“You’ve not talked to the other Wonderbolts about this?”

“No.” Spitfire breathed out onto my side. “I just want to make the right calls. What if more of them quit? Or can’t transition? Just because I wanted to make a difference.”

I nuzzled my partner’s mane. “You should talk to Rainbow Dash.”

“Dash? You sure she’s ready for this kind of stuff?”

“She’s got a way with ponies. She’ll help you inspire them when you can’t, I’m sure of it.”

“I’ll… bring it up, I guess. She has been doing good work… when she puts the effort in. She’s reckless, though. And sometimes doesn’t think.”

“I think that you think too much, darling.” I flashed Spitfire a smile. “You’ll be an unstoppable team, I promise.”

For a moment Spitfire rested her head on me, and I adjusted myself to support her better. Spitfire looked… tired. I had seen her tired before, late at night or after a long trip, but at that moment she seemed exhausted. Her eyes were slightly open, and as she relaxed I could see lines begin to appear around her eyes. I sucked in air through my teeth, unhappy. She had been pushing herself too hard. I had seen similar symptoms in Applejack whenever she tried doing something she was unable to do.

“Do you want a rest before we head to the Extravagant Extraordinaire? A nap, perhaps?”

Spitfire nodded. “Sounds good.”

“Shall I make some food?” It wasn’t a question. I moved to go and examine what passed for a kitchen in this small apartment.

“Aw, but I wanted to sleep next to you,” Spitfire whined. I detected that she was being coy.

“We need to have something to eat before we leave. And for once, I’m here to take care of you.” I opened her cupboard. “Well, at least you’re well stocked.”

“Got to eat well to be a ‘Bolt.”

“Tell that to Rainbow,” I muttered. I glanced down at the cooking… apparatus. It was different from what I was used to. It looked more like a series of wires than a fire cooker. “How does this work?”

“Electricity. We use a power plant.” Spitfire rolled to her hooves. “Here, let me show you…”

“No, no, you’re having a rest. You look like a zombie.” I gave Spitfire a small shove back towards the bed. “If you go to the Extraordinaire like that you’ll give poor lady Dashington a heart attack.”

Spitfire tilted her head and examined me with an exasperated air. “Flick the switch, and hold that knob down. Once you see lightning, stop, and put the pan on the top.”

I followed her instructions. It worked! “Excellent. Oh, and for the Extraordinaire… would you prefer to wear blue, azure, sapphire, or sky?”

“To Dashington’s Extraordinaire? Sapphire.”

“Good choice.” I waved my hoof around. “I have a selection of dresses for you to try on.”

“...I told you, only the essentials.”

“This is essential! It’s the Extraordinaire, darling!”

“Just put them on me whilst I sleep…”

“Perfect. I do like a compliant mannequin.” I cracked an egg over the counter. “An omelette will do, I hope?”

I didn’t hear a response. I turned back to look at Spitfire, who was lying in much the same position I had last seen her, except noticeably quieter, and with softer breathing. Thoroughly asleep.

I poured the contents of the egg I had cracked into a bowl, and moved over to Spitfire. I ran a hoof through her mane gently so as not to disturb her. She was usually hard and stiff when awake, but now felt soft and limp.

“My big silly Wonderbolt,” I muttered, and went back to cooking. I had around three hours before the Extraordinaire started. Plenty of time for Spitfire to get her rest, for me to get some well-earned dinner, and for both of us to get ready for our latest date.

Mingling is an art that, like all things ponies get wrong, needs to be practiced. The point of these sorts of events are connections, and as a mare who now owns a few boutiques throughout Equestria, connections are important. I want to know where the opportunities are, what the interest is, and where the pitfalls lie.

It can be hard to mingle amongst the upper crust of Equestria with my usual gaggle of friends. Even Twilight, who one would hope would have gotten a bit better at it after her ascension to Princessdom, is still prone to bouts of awkwardness and faux-pas. Not so when I’m with my Captain.

Spitfire is, if anything, better at it than me. I am the sort that gets what I want through selective flattery, cajoling and diplomacy. Spitfire seems to achieve the same thing through confidence, magnetism, and a cavalier attitude.

I had spent twenty minutes fixing her up to be appropriately gorgeous for the soiree. It hadn’t been hard. She is svelte and athletic, and most things look good on her. I knew already that she’d need a blue to complement her fiery colours, something rich and eye-catching. The sapphire dress, adorned with tasteful jewels around the shoulder area was perfect. I flattened her mane a bit as well, and it draped across her right eye like a curtain peeling away from a stage.

“You look pretty good,” she said to me, her wing gingerly carrying me forwards through the crowd so as not to upset my own dress. “You know, attracting attention at these things has never been easier now you’re around.”

“That’s what happens when you get an artist to handle your appearance, darling,” I said. “If ponies are interested in my expertise in fashion, then you can be my finest advertisement.”

“An advertisement, am I?” Spitfire commented with a humorous tone of voice. “I suppose I am pretty attractive.”

Myself and Spitfire gazed out into the main hall. Dozens of exquisitely dressed pegasi and a small handful of foreign races milled about on the ornate, jeweled floor of the Dashington Estate.

“See anyone important, darling?” I asked.

Spitfire nodded. “That's Gerald. Griffon flyer, manages a pretty impressive long-distance team. I’ve been trying to arrange a meeting with him for months.” She then gestured to the left, towards the buffet. “Bullet Point. Paparazzi. I don’t like him, but he writes good articles. Wins awards, even. It’d be a big deal if I managed to get him to write about the Wonderbolts reforming.”

“Very interesting. I have a few as well.” I gestured towards a gaggle of mares by a massive pillar. “See the mare with the, ah, adventurous mane accessories?”

“That’s a mane?”

“It was at one point. That’s Madame Magnifique. She owns a series of declining emporiums in Cloudsdale and Las Pegasus. Not surprising, considering her backwards taste…”

“Ouch. I’m glad she didn’t hear that one.”

“Well, what do you want me to say? Her mane looks like a stuffed goose. It’s practically griffonian cuisine.” I shook my head. “Anyway. Lady Dashington, of course, is also very important, and I could use her favour to ease my way into the Cloudsdale sphere, but I hear she's somewhat stern, and I'd consider it a long shot.”

“I see.” Spitfire looked around the room. “Want to switch things up?”

“You take Madame Magnifique, I deal with Bullet Point?” I asked. We had performed this manoeuvre before, in Canterlot.

“Works for me. Scout out the buffet for me.”

“Very well. Just make sure you butter the Madame up properly before the dance. This is still a date, darling.”

Spitfire gave me a kiss on the cheek and trotted away towards Madame Magnifique, flashing me a cocky smile on her way. “It’s a promise.”

I took a moment to watch her leave. The view was always nice, but having worked on it myself this evening, it was especially exquisite this time around. I know, gazing luridly at another pony is very unladylike, but please. If one’s romantic partner can’t be the object of a lurid gaze now and then, what even is the point of them?

I trotted over to Bullet Point, who was observing the ball as if it were the scene in a play, and he were the critic. I stepped towards him with an affable air.

“I’m sorry, but you are the journalist Bullet Point, correct?” I asked.

The stallion turned to me and nodded. “That’s right. You’re Miss Rarity of Ponyville. A pleasure. Your reputation precedes you.”

“I hope not too much!” I levitated a miniature soufflé from the table. “Are you here on business or pleasure?”

“Mostly business, but the canapes are pleasure,” Bullet said. “Yourself?”

“Pleasure, but talking to my peers in the fashion industry is always business,” I quipped. “I’m actually here with my partner, Spitfire, but I seem to have been separated.” I made a show of peering through the crowd. “Oh, there she is. I see she’s found Madame Magnifique.”

“Business partner?” Bullet asked.

“No, not like that,” I corrected. I was sure that Bullet already knew that me and Spitfire were an item, but that he didn’t want to seem indiscreet. I would allow him this illusion. “I need to get her out of the flying arena now and then or she’ll go mad. She takes it all very seriously.” I put my hoof on my chest. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t go showing my marefriend off to everyone I meet.”

“No, please go on. It’s interesting to get a perspective on the mysterious Captain of the Wonderbolts that isn’t from athletes and paying sponsors.”

Good, so he was listening.

The manoeuvre was a good one. Obviously one doesn’t want to seem blunt when inserting oneself into a discussion, so instead it’s an easy strategy to deploy the marefriend or coltfriend in advance, draw the target’s attention that way, and then show them off a bit. Nothing too serious, just enough to get a good conversation flowing naturally.

“She’s been trying… very hard, I might add… to reform the Wonderbolts from being a purely competitive team into something that benefits all of Equestria. It’s quite admirable, but I wish she spent more time taking care of herself sometimes.”

Bullet took a sip of wine. “I heard. I don’t want to seem rude, but I doubt she’ll succeed.” He gestured around him. “There are a lot of old families in Cloudsdale. The Dashingtons are one of them, in fact. It’s important to them for Cloudsale to seem independent and powerful, and they won’t want to give up their greatest symbol of power just so she can play rescuer.” He glanced at me, peering at me with a somewhat playful look in his eyes. “They wouldn’t like you.”

I sensed in Bullet a kindred spirit, one addicted to the thrill of gossip and conjecture. “Ooh, really?” I leaned against the table. “Sounds like gossip I’m interested in.”

“You sure? It might not be pleasant.”

“Please. I’m a little tougher than my well-kept appearance might suggest.”

Bullet Point smiled. “Suit yourself.” He breathed in. “Don’t get me wrong, they won’t disapprove of you personally. You’re distinguished, ambitious, and refined. They don’t even disapprove of your interest in mares, or that you’re a unicorn.” He sighed. “They just don’t want to lose Captain Spitfire, or the bloodline that made her. They can be very protective of bloodlines, these old families. It probably stings that somepony as intensely successful as Spitfire is, in their mind, throwing all that talk of bloodlines to be with a unicorn and a mare. No little Spitfire junior to wow the future generations, and even if there was one, chances are they wouldn’t be in Cloudsdale.” He smiled. “I’m afraid you’re the worst possible pony for Spitfire to fall for.”

“You seem rather relaxed about it all, though,” I noted.

“Sure. I think it’s a good story, you and Spitfire. Romantic. Two ambitious mares finding each other, and so on. I love a good story. And I’ve never liked the old guard, repeating the same old stories from generations ago.”

“Know anything about the Dashingtons? Any, ah, how would Applejack say this… ‘dirt’?”

Bullet shrugged. “A little. They’re somewhat secretive. Had a scandal a while ago when I was still an intern. Her third son eloped with a skysider.” Bullet took a sip of wine. “Tame stuff by today’s standards, but I remember it causing a fuss amongst the old guard back in the day. I hated reporting back then. All tabloid scandals about the big old names in Cloudsdale.”

“Well, you seem to have risen above it quite well, if the rumours are to be believed.”

“No thanks to the Dashingtons.” Bullet rolled his eyes. “Sorry, sorry. I shouldn’t be whining about our host. It’s just frustrating seeing the old families hold Cloudsdale back.”

“It’s a shame, isn’t it?” I said, switching tactics. “Especially as Equestria is opening its borders more and more.”

Bullet Point acquiesced. “That’s true enough, madam. Times are changing. Ponies are already talking about the newest Princess, and what she’s been doing for Equestria. Old Cloudsdale isolationism might well be a thing of the past.”

“Well, I don’t know about all that,” I lied. “You’d have to talk to Spitfire about it. She’s so much more knowledgeable than me about this sort of thing…” I waved my hoof over at Spitfire. “Darling? Could I borrow you for a second?”

Spitfire held her hoof up and made a gesture with her wing. I turned back to Bullet. “Looks like I need to take over talking to the Madame. I’ll swap with Spitfire; you’ll have a lot to talk about, I’m sure.”

Both myself and Spitfire switched places. On our way past one another, Spitfire winked.

“She’s pretty keen to get a modern view on fashion,” Spitfire said.

“I should hope so. Thank you for your hard work, darling.”

“Likewise, ma’am.”

I approached the gaggle of mares, smiling broadly. “I hope my partner hasn’t been telling stories about me?” I joked.

As ponies began to converge on the centre of the room, I reunited with Spitfire. I leaned in to whisper in her ear as mares and stallions partnered up.

“Any luck?”

“Some. Maybe I was wrong about Bullet. He seems pretty okay when he’s not criticising Wonderbolt policy.” Spitfire turned to me. “Yourself?”

“Not as fortunate as I wanted. Madame Magnifique wanted me to join her own emporium as a consultant. At least I know I can probably oust at least one of her little shops, though.”

“Brutal as always, I see.”

“Well, honestly. Somepony needs to fix that disaster.”

Spitfire chuckled as ponies all gathered in a circle. She glanced around. We were the only mare and mare duo in the room currently. We were also the only pegasus and non-pegasus pairing. I glanced towards the mare overseeing the event from an indoor balcony. Lady Dashington. She seemed ancient, but just as authoritative, if not more so, as Spitfire herself. She eyed me with mild distaste.

“Something wrong?” Spitfire asked me.

We began to circle one another, hooves on each other’s backs. I let Spitfire lead. I’m all for switching up gender stereotypes, but personally I prefer to be treated as a lady.

“Perhaps all this talk of ‘old Cloudsdale’ and things has me a little on edge,” I admitted. “Are you sure I’m not… a problem? We are the only two mares dancing.”

Spitfire twirled me around, and I felt the folds of my dress billow around me. “We’re hardly the only non-standard ponies here. Pretty sure Lady Cumulus is gay. I have a feeling about Bullet, as well.”

I recalled my blunder with Fancy Pants, before I had started going out with Spitfire. “I wish I could tell as easily,” I said.

Spitfire giggled. “That’s why it’s called a gaydar, not a bidar, Rarity.” She pushed into me, and I leaned back in response, all in time to the elegant music in the background. “I’m fine. Trust me, I’ve got everything under control. Dashington doesn’t scare me.”

“She scares me a little. Look at that scowl.”

Spitfire’s wings caught me as I let myself fall off-balance. “Let’s not talk about the Dashingtons.”

I sighed, recalling how tired Spitfire had been earlier. “I’m only trying to be practical for you, darling. I know how much your work means to you…”

“Practical is for Wonderbolts business. You’re not a part of that.” Spitfire smiled. “If the Dashingtons, or the Cumulos, or the Hurricanes want to take on the Wonderbolts, they’re free to give it a shot, but they can’t stop me from loving you.”

I nearly tripped, my footing out of time. My heart, certainly, had skipped more than a few beats, and my dancing tempo had become similarly haphazard.

“You what?” I gasped, off-balance. “Oh!”

I would have toppled, had Spitfire not reached out a wing to stop me from falling.

“Finally caught you.” She grinned, and I felt her hot breath caress my cheek as she pulled me closer. “Took me years, but I’ve finally done it.”

I spluttered, still reeling from Spitfire’s admission. I noted her sly smirk and gleaming eyes, and narrowed my own.

“You did that on purpose,” I accused.

“Maybe, but it’s also true.” Spitfire brushed against my nose as the dance ended. “Is that a problem?”

“Of course not! But honestly! Taking me by surprise like that. I nearly fell!” I gave her a playful shove. “You could have embarrassed me in front of everypony.”

“Sorry, I couldn’t help myself.” Spitfire rested her lips against my forehead gingerly. “You’re very cute when you’re flustered.”

We held each other for a moment or two. I began to splutter.

“Oh, sorry!” I exclaimed. “I forgot to say I love you too.” I pulled away quickly. “I mean, I meant to have flowers or wine or… something for this, but you put me on the spot and—”

“I know I did.”

“I could have had a violin quartet or something prepared. Or octet! I had plans and… things.” I felt myself soften. “They were very good plans too, which is why I was waiting to say I love you. So much, in fact.” I rubbed my forehead, feeling a little light-headed. "I've made a mess of things."

“It’ll all be fine.” She gestured subtly towards a small crowd that was watching us. “Looks like we’ve drawn a crowd.”

I glanced at the admiring expressions of our fellow dancers, and the pursed lips of Lady Dashington. “It looks like we have.” I sighed. “I suppose I won’t be getting Dashington’s support this evening.”

“Probably not, no. Sorry about that.”

“No need to apologise. This is the happiest I’ve been in years!” I pulled Spitfire away from the dance floor. “I don’t think my legs will carry me much longer. They feel all wobbly.”

“Hah, looks like it.”

We stepped away from the crowd, falling away from the centre of attention. I tried to gather my bearings, and regain some lost authority. Spitfire had completely destabilised me, thrown me off, and flustered my every sense.

“I… we should still work on you getting a chat with that griffon. Gerald, you said he was called.” I levitated a glass of wine from a tray and downed it. I refused to act like an embarrassing schoolfilly swooning in proximity of her crush. I was more dignified than that. “We have work to do.”

“Possibly,” Spitfire said. “Shall we get to it?”

The long walk home was made bearable by having a strong wing wrap around my middle. Spitfire caught me shivering due to the icy temperatures of high altitude and tutted.

“All those ‘essentials’ and you didn’t bring a scarf.”

“It’s not scarf season.”

We rounded a corner in the darkness, the streets lit up by electric lights glowing a pale green. From the shadows emerged a familiar small figure, wings flared.

“I finished your dumb routine,” Rainbow Dash grumbled, and glanced towards me. “Had fun at the, uh… was this a gala, a soiree, or a party?”

“An Extraordinare at the Dashington estate, actually.”

“Hmm? Pfft, just as well I couldn’t go then.” Rainbow flicked her mane as she joined us in walking towards Spitfire’s flat. “They wouldn’t like me.”

Spitfire grinned. “They barely like me.” She nudged me in the side. “They were quite taken with this one, though.”

“Oh, stop. I’m in dire need of wine and all this talk is slowing us down.” I sighed. “And I have meetings tomorrow, the day after, and the day after that. It’ll be nightmarish.”

“You should go easy on the wine then,” Rainbow said. “You know, I could take it off your hooves…”

“I bet you could,” Spitfire retorted. “I have a feeling that won’t happen, though.”

“Shame.” Rainbow trotted ahead, wings flaring. “Come on, slowpokes. I expected at least Spitfire to be faster than this. If it were just me and AJ we’d be home already.”

The corners of Spitfire’s mouth raised a little as Rainbow danced ahead of them. “She talks about Applejack a lot, doesn’t she?”

“Hmm? Well, they are rather close,” I said.

“Closer than you think, I reckon.”

I glanced at Rainbow, and then back at Spitfire. “Don’t be silly. Applejack isn’t interested.”

Spitfire spluttered like an engine failing to start, then laughed. Her voice was rich and pleasant, vastly different from how tired she had seemed earlier that day, or when talking about Fire Streak. She sounded like gold. “Wow, you really are bad at telling, aren’t you?”

“I am… what? I’m not bad at anything!” I stuck my nose in the air. “You’re being silly. I’ve known Applejack for years.”

“Sure you have. I bet you’ve seen her with tons of stallions.”

“Well, no, but I don’t want to pry.” I eyes Spitfire out the corner of my eye, and pouted. “Oh, you and your silly ‘gaydar’. I don’t believe it; you’ve just made it up to tease me.”

Spitfire nuzzled me in the neck as she pushed me forwards. “Come on. If we take that much longer Rainbow will finish the entire bottle without us.”

Author's Note

Got bored, so I updated the story again, spontaneously and completely without warning.

Truth be told I just really like writing these two. Together they're a lot of fun for me, so writing this stuff is like comfort food.

Hope you enjoyed the modest continuation! I intend to keep any and all future chapters, should they get pumped out, self-contained so the story can always function as a sort of complete experience... just one that gets longer as time goes on. Shut up, it makes sense in my head.

Anyway, have a good one, and see you guys around.

Canterlot Date

The Gala was, I had to admit, a welcome reprieve from work. The Wonderbolts had successfully integrated rescue routines into our practice, and even though the bureaucracy of Cloudsdale protested and groaned at every change I implemented, at the end of the day I was the captain and leader of the Wonderbolts. I had too much control over the system to stop, and I was too popular to remove easily.

A part of that, I had to admit, was somewhat Rarity’s doing. It’s not like I never considered these sorts of things (I was well aware that public image and perception was a big part of being the leader of the ‘Bolts), but honestly, Rarity was just plain better at things like slapping my face on magazines, putting me in the best dresses and clothes and showing me off at events. It didn’t hurt that she was one of the Princess’s best friends as well, though I didn’t really sit comfortably with the idea of coasting off of Rarity’s fame.

Then again, I was also famous. We had, in recent times, become known as something of a power couple, and that was fair enough. Together there really wasn’t much we couldn’t accomplish.

Still, I was tired. The Cloudsdale Resources Agency hadn’t blocked me from getting access to a new training facility per se… they had just been woefully inefficient at getting it ready. The boxes still hadn’t been unpacked after months, and I was caught in a crossroads of nonsense where due to risk management I wasn’t able to unpack the stupid things myself and at the same time I couldn’t use it safely whilst the boxes were still there. It was ridiculous, and the whole situation had sapped my energy, among other things.

“This’ll be your first time at the Gala, right?” Rarity asked, but not to me. She directed her question at Sweetie Belle who had followed us this time around.

I… didn’t know where I stood with Sweetie Belle. On one hoof I wanted to get along with her well, because she was Rarity’s sister and I wanted Rarity’s family to like me, or at the very least get along with me. On the other, I felt awkward being a sort of spectator to their various arguments and spats, and didn’t feel like I could intervene on either side. So usually I just sat quietly and let them finish by themselves, and then Rarity would use me to work out some stress. Which, I should note, was a mutually beneficial arrangement in my opinion.

“Yup!” Sweetie replied, and twirled around in her dress. Blue and white caftan, patterned. I had spent long enough around Rarity to start paying attention to these things.

Rarity herself wore a luscious burgundy, which I had since learned was her favourite colour. I wasn’t sure what material it was. Rarity called it silk, but when I asked what kind she just sort of brushed the question aside. Apparently it was very rare, though, and I could tell by the way it moved and interacted with the air that it was so light that it was as if Rarity was barely wearing anything at all. She had a bright pink scarf made of the same material that floated like snowflakes on the breeze.

I was dressed in a slim teal suit. Rarity had decided she liked seeing me dressed with a hint of masculinity to me, which… well I deferred to her expertise on the matter. The colours harkened to my Wonderbolt uniform, which I did enjoy. I liked the uniform. Rarity had also encrusted me with so many jewels I felt like a walking diamond mine. She said that if I wasn’t the most beautiful thing in the room at any given time, or at the very least second most beautiful, she wasn’t doing her job right.

It was all a bit outside of my area of expertise, but I did enjoy letting Rarity play with dressing me up as much as she liked. It was sort of relaxing, and a little fun.

Rarity’s eyes glanced in my direction, and she tutted. Her hoof raised up to my mane and began sliding over it. “Captain Darling, your mane is poofing up again.”

“Yeah it does that,” I explained, not for the first time. “It’s the lightning clouds we fly through. Static, y’know?”

Rarity sighed. “Well at least you look gorgeous either way. But I spent a long time on that coiffure.”

I nuzzled her gently. “I know you did.”

This wasn’t my first Gala… not even close. I was used to the crowd of unicorns and Equestrian celebrities. I had been one for years.

“Shame it’s just us this year,” Rarity muttered. She breathed in. "And if I move to Yakyakistan I might not be able to make it next year either."

I sucked air in through my teeth, guilt stabbing at my gut. I was, after all, the reason Rainbow Dash wasn’t attending. Among the many other things that had sapped my energy recently, I had felt the need to send Rainbow away to Griffonstone.

There was a logic and strategy to my decision. As the Cloudsdale elite had been trying to set her up as a more ‘convenient’ replacement to me and stifle the changes I had been setting up, it had made two things clear. One, Rainbow Dash was a liability to me. The second was that eventually, when the old guard succeeded, Rainbow would be the one to take over the ‘Bolts from me.

I didn’t mind the idea of Rainbow taking over. Actually I liked it. I didn't like the idea of her doing it now. She wasn’t ready to be a captain; too naive, insecure and irresponsible. She also had no experience. Sending her to Griffonstone as an instructor sorted out two of my problems at once. It removed a piece that the Cloudsdale elite could use against me and gave Rainbow the much-needed experience she’d need when she came to take over the role of Captain after I retired.

I had told this to Rarity of course. She hadn’t liked it. Not just because I had referred to Rainbow as a ‘liability’, but because to her it seemed like I had resolved myself to an early retirement. Neither were things she appreciated hearing.

As a result, Rainbow Dash was unable to attend the Gala. Applejack had managed to injure herself farming, and so was putting her hooves up at home. Nopony knew exactly where Fluttershy and Pinkie were. They sent letters, Rarity said, but she didn’t know where they came from. Fluttershy might be in an alternate dimension with Discord; Pinkie was travelling somewhere with Cheese Sandwich.

That left Rarity and Twilight. Oh, and me I guess, but I still didn’t feel like I counted in that circle of friends. I still felt a bit like an outsider.

I guess I was just a bit gloomy in general. Rarity must have picked up on that; she leaned into my wing and pushed me forwards, in the direction of the grand double-doors to the hall.

“You know, the first time I visited the Gala, I was hit by a flying cake,” she said, giggling to herself.

I snickered. “I remember, actually. I also remember Rainbow Dash being a bit of a nuisance.”

“Yes, she was! I think we all were.”

We passed the entrance and into the lavish castle hall. Vast stairs led up to the residential suites, and standing at its base was the Princess herself, Twilight Sparkle. A small crowd approached her, waiting to see her and be shown into the party.

“You know, back then I considered asking you out at the Gala,” I went on. “But between Rainbow hovering around me and you and that pretty-boy prince…”

“Oh, don’t remind me. I still abhor that memory.” Rarity shuddered. “It would have saved me from embarrassing myself if you had asked me out.”

“Well at the time I didn’t realise you, uh, would have been interested. I mean, he was a stallion, I’m very much not...”

“I appreciate beauty in all its various forms, darling.”

“Sure but I didn’t know that.”

Rarity huffed in a playful manner. “Well if you had you could have saved me from becoming a cake display.”

As we trotted towards Twilight, the crowd parted and murmured a bit. As I mentioned, we were sort of a power couple. Pretty much everypony had read about our relationship at one point or another, and a lot of eyes were on us.

We reached Twilight Sparkle, eventually. I straightened and stood at attention, as I was supposed to in the presence of a Princess.

“Hello there darling!” Rarity exclaimed, rushing up to give Twilight a hug and a kiss on the cheek. “How has Canterlot been?”

I tried to relax a bit. Right. I wasn’t there as a captain of the ‘bolts, but as Rarity’s marefriend. I should play my part.

“Hey, uh… T-Twilight Sparkle, your highness, ma’am.”

“Spitfire, feel free to pick one of those,” Rarity teased.

“Right. Hello ma’am.”

“Not that one.”

Twilight giggled. “It’s all right. We don’t really interact much as just friends. It’s a bit strange for me too.” She flashed me a broad smile. “Just Twilight Sparkle is fine if you’d like.” She turned to look at Sweetie Belle. “Hey there Sweetie. How are the crusaders?”

“At home. Scootaloo is studying and Applebloom has to take care of Applejack. She sprained her leg.”

“Spitfire helped Rainbow get Scootaloo into a ground-based aerodynamics course,” Rarity said.

“It was nothing,” I said, more woodenly than I’d have liked.

The Princess nodded. “I’ll come by and say hello in a bit. I need to finish greeting the guests first. We’ll take a walk around the gardens?”

Rarity and I nodded and walked away. Rarity gave Twilight a little playful wave, and then nuzzled me. “You can relax around Twilight. She won’t bite.”

“I’m just a bit nervous that I might. I do tend to snap a lot…”

“I don’t mind a little biting,” Rarity joked.

I sighed. “I’ll try to relax.”

Rarity glared at Sweetie, who was approaching one of the busts of Princess Celestia. “And you could do with relaxing less! Don’t touch that, it’s priceless!”

Sweetie slid away from the statue. “Then it won’t cost anything if it breaks…” She trotted away. “I’m going to find Spike. I’ll see you two later!”

“Don’t do anything crusader-y!” Rarity called after her.

“I’m curious. How much trouble does Sweetie usually get into?” I asked.

“You’ve had to deal with Rainbow Dash?” Rarity asked.

“Ah, I see.”

The ballroom was as it always was; a refined band playing on stage, trays and trays of food, and wine. Lots of wine. I swiped a couple of glasses with my wing as we passed a table, and handed one to Rarity.

“Thank you, dearest.”

“Anytime.”

Rarity leaned in. “So, any tasks to clear whilst we’re here?”

“In Canterlot? No. This is purely pleasure. No business.” I took a long sip of wine. “I could use something purely for pleasure for once.”

“Well then, shall we mingle for a bit before meeting up with Twilight? I think I spotted some old friends over there…”

“Sure.”

“You don’t mind me showing you off a little?”

I laughed. “Never.”

As we approached, I overheard some of the discussion amongst the fashion giants of Canterlot. I knew only a little of them from my time listening to Rarity’s at time frantic ranting. Apparently they were not popular in the Carousel Boutique.

“...just as well she’s moving to Yakyakistan.”

“...if anything will end that mare’s career, it’ll be floundering trying to renovate yak fashion.”

I frowned, and glanced towards Rarity. My partner pointedly ignored them and shot towards a small gaggle of ponies, all orbiting a familiar stallion. Everypony knew Fancy Pants.

“Ah, Rarity! And her delightful partner in crime.” Fancy Pants trotted up to us and extended his hoof. “Glad to see you, ahem, found somepony to attend the event with.”

Rarity winced a little. “Yes, um, well.” She straightened. “How are things in Canterlot? Still desperately clinging to fashions from one-hundred years ago?”

“Still, yes. I feel like I live in a museum sometimes,” Fancy Pants said with a chuckle.

“Where’s Lee?” Rarity asked. “I can’t imagine him not attending the Gala.”

“Fleur has just stepped away for a moment. He heard that the Canterlot bestiary managed to acquire an Elder Widow.”

I raised my eyebrow. “A what?”

Fancy Pants opened his mouth, but Rarity spoke over him. “A very rare creature is all. Nothing to be concerned about.”

“They’re what spin the delightful fabric Rarity is wearing,” Fancy went on. “Extraordinary creatures, and quite la—”

Rarity leaned in towards Fancy Pants. “...maybe change the topic. Spitfire doesn’t like spi—…”

“I’m back,” Fleur dis Lee said as he emerged from the crowd. “It’s amazing, by the way. I heard Miss Fluttershy had it rescued from a wildfire and sent it over for safekeeping. I’ve never seen one that large.” He looked over at me and Rarity. “Oh, hello there. Miss Rarity.” There was a hint of superiority in his voice. “How have you been?”

“Fine,” Rarity replied, a little coldly. “How are you and Fancy?”

“We’re doing wonderfully. How are you and Spitfire?”

“Delightful. We’re practically made for each other.”

“You don’t say? Why me and Fancy—”

Fancy Pants coughed. “I heard that Miss Rarity has set up a boutique far in the north. In Yakyakistan.”

“Yes. I actually intend to move there temporarily to help set it up.” Rarity flicked her mane. “It’s very exciting. I know most fashionistas in Canterlot don’t see much potential in Yakyakistan but I think that’s a very shortsighted opinion…”

“I agree,” Fleur said. “Imagine the things you can do with those luscious manes of theirs.”

“Among other things,” Rarity replied. “Glad we agree on one thing.”

I watched as Lee and Rarity glared at each other for a while, before backing away and returning to their conversation.

“Spitfire doesn’t mind you leaving to go abroad?” Fancy Pants asked.

“Not especially,” I said. “We actually meet a bit less than most ponies think. We live apart, still, and are quite happy with our arrangement.”

“One of the things we decided when we started going out was that we’d never get in the way of each other's careers. I think that’s important to both of us,” Rarity went on.

“Well, there are a lot of ponies who’ll breathe easier with some distance between you and them,” Fancy said. “You’ve been gently squeezing the modern fashion industry and a lot of ponies are beginning to feel the pressure. They’re forced to innovate. Imagine that.”

“Well they should catch their breath whilst they can,” I said. “Rarity won’t be away forever.”

“I couldn’t possibly keep away,” Rarity replied, leaning into me. Between my feathers, my wine slipped and a drop fell onto Rarity’s scarf. “Oh, bother.”

“Sorry,” I said. “Shall I…”

“Don’t worry, I’ll ask Twilight for something to have that removed.” Rarity removed the scarf from her neck and passed it to me, magic tying it around my neck. “Nopony will see the stain if we turn it into a neckerchief, but a neckerchief simply won’t go with my dress.”

I raised my chin to allow Rarity to better adjust the knot. “All good?”

“Yes! Delightful.”

“It feels amazingly light. Honestly I don’t know where you get these materials.”

Fancy and Fleur Dis Lee glanced at each other. Rarity stepped back, admiring her handiwork. “Very good! Shall we meet up with Twilight?”

I nodded. “Yes. Let’s.”

As we trotted outside under the vast night sky of Canterlot, I leaned closer towards Rarity’s ear. “You and Fleur seemed a little frosty.”

“Him and I had a little discussion not long after I, ahem, tried to approach Fancy about, ah… Well. It was before we started going out.”

“Still a bit hostile, is he?”

“Just a little. I don’t know why; Fancy made it quite clear he wasn’t interested in me in the slightest.”

“Can’t say I’m complaining.”

“Neither am I. It was just embarrassing.”

“Worked out in the end, though, didn’t it?” I said.

We arrived at a small paved area with a fountain in the centre. Princess Twilight stood there quietly, looking at the water. When we reached her, she beamed like someone had just switched on the lights in a dark room.

“It’s so good seeing you again. I’ve been meaning to visit for a while but I’ve just been so swamped with setting up the new school and corresponding with Starlight…”

Rarity laughed. “I completely understand. Even when we lived in the same town it was often as if we only saw each other when something horrible went wrong.”

“Or one of our friends was causing trouble,” Twilight added.

“Or we were!”

I watched Rarity laugh and reminisce with her old friend. I felt just a bit jealous; although the side of Rarity I got to enjoy was one that I wouldn’t trade for anything, I did at times wish I had the same relationship with her as her Ponyville friends did. They seemed to have shared so many experiences and misadventures together. So many stories I wasn’t a part of.

Then again, I was the only pony Rarity had shared her ambitions, her ideas for the future, and her heart with. When things weren’t working out, we comforted each other. We were each other's safety net, I suppose. Or at least, she was mine.

Sometimes I felt like there wasn’t much I could do for Rarity. Other than stand still and let her use my body as a mannequin, realistically what was I able to provide her in practical terms?

A year ago I couldn’t have imagined wanting to mean something to someone more than wanting to secure the future of the Wonderbolts. I guess that’s why I was okay with the idea of an early retirement. It mattered less now that there was somepony else absorbing my interest.

It wasn’t really in the spirit of our agreement that we’d not get in the way of each other’s careers to think like that, but I couldn’t help myself.

“So, Spitfire…” Twilight began. “I hear you’ve been stirring up things in Cloudsdale.”

I nodded. “Yes I am. The ‘Bolts have been reformed as a more rescue-oriented organisation.” I gave a small bow. “With your permission, of course.”

“Naturally. I think it’s really admirable that the Wonderbolts are being used for something so noble.”

“Captain Darling felt very upset about failing to save me from danger all the time. I made a bit of an impression at the Junior Flyer’s Contest, you know.” Rarity chortled. “She still hasn’t been able to rescue me from anything yet, either.”

“Hopefully I won’t have to,” I replied. “Our ‘Bolts were engaged in a search and rescue operation last week. We saved two ponies.” I allowed myself a modest, smug smile. “Did it fast, too. A local record, apparently.”

“Any pony saved is a win to me,” Twilight replied. “I’m very grateful that you’re using your own experiences to save lives. Not just as a Princess, but a friend of ponies in general.”

“Well, the Cloudsdale leadership seem to think that two ponies isn’t a particularly big number,” I grumbled. “But to me, any pony could be somepony’s Rarity, so I’d like to have the Wonderbolt’s give it their all.”

A small crew of ponies wheeled by a large, pony-sized cake as Twilight and Rarity listened. I noted Rarity take a small step back from the gargantuan confection. Bad memories, I imagined.

“You never can tell when a cake will land on you. And this is a very expensive dress,” she explained, catching my look.

I giggled. Twilight smiled at me; I imagined she was happy that I was loosening up around her at last. I took a step back.

“I need to head to the mare’s room. I’ll be back in a minute.”

“See you soon, dear,” Rarity said.

The gardens were massive and labyrinthian. The hedges made up maze-like walls, and in this tight suit I couldn’t easily fly around them without risking tearing it. I decided walking would be safer.

Still, I wished that I knew where I was going.

“Damn it, if this keeps up I’ll just pee in a stupid bush.” I glanced around. “I don’t even know where Rarity and Twilight are. If only it wasn’t so dark…”

I passed a few trees and heard gentle tweeting. I realised that I must have taken a wrong turn at the statuary and made my way into the bestiary. This was where all sorts of domesticated animals were. I made a point of being careful not to step on something like a squirrel’s nest or something.

I passed a large, cage-like contraption the size of a small house. There was no gate; no animal in the bestiary was kept locked in except for health reasons, and were free to roam the bestiary at will. I peered inside. I wondered what kind of animal might live in there? An elephant, maybe? Or a hippo? No, hippos were dangerous animals, and quite aggressive. There was no way one would be kept in here.

“Well I can’t pee in a place where some animal might live,” I grumbled to myself. The breeze tugged on Rarity’s scarf, gently. The way it billowed really was impressive. It was warm, but almost weightless.

I looked around to try and see the lights of the castle and orient myself. So long as I circumnavigated the stupid maze I’d be able to make it back easily, I decided.

I took a few steps forwards and found my rear hoof failed to move. Caught on something. I looked down, but it was too dark to see exactly what I had gotten caught on. I yanked my hoof, and I heard an audible ‘twang’ echo through the night. My hoof came free.

“Hope I haven’t broken anything,” I grumbled, but at the same time I wasn’t that torn up about it. I didn’t like being stuck to things.

I took a few more steps and this time my foreleg got caught on something. Again, I couldn’t really feel what.

“What the hay?”

I tried to shake my hoof loose but it was like whatever I was on was glued to me or something. Irritating. I felt a flash of rage ignite in me; a familiar feeling when things weren’t going my way.

I braced myself back to give my hoof a good pull, but then I stepped in more of… whatever it was.

“Horseapples.”

Suddenly I felt a pulling sensation on my haunches. My heart leapt into my mouth. Something was picking me up. Magic? Was this a prank? On me?

“I don’t know who you are, funny guy, but when I find you—” I began, and twisted around. The things that had stuck to my foreleg detached as if on cue, and I was suspended in the air by my hind legs alone. A noticeable, glinting strand of string was what held me up, and it was lifting me higher, higher into the air, like I was heavy cargo being raised by crane.

“This is ridiculous,” I snarled. “I’m not kidding around here…”

Eventually I realised what I had been pulled up towards. Surrounding me like a net was a familiar shape made up of the same strands that held me up. My legs got tangled up in them, sticking to them like superglue. My heart began to race.

It looked an awful lot like a spiderweb.

I hated spiders.

I hated spiders.

A nervous chuckle escaped me. “I… ha ha… this isn’t funny any more…”

From the pitch darkness I saw eight bright, purple orbs emerge like distant, unknowable stars. They approached, expanding to invade the entirety of my vision. Mandibles the size of magnum wine bottles glinted in the starlight. Legs so vast their point of origin was out of sight drifted into my peripheral vision.

I screamed, and on the plus side, I didn’t need to go to the bathroom any more.

The rest of the evening, I confess, was something of a blur in my mind. I distinctly recall a lot of screaming, a lot of thrashing and wailing, and no small amount of crying.

I also recall that quite quickly Rarity, Twilight, some other spectators clustering around the bestiary.

“Don’t worry darling! It’s quite harmless, I promise,” Rarity called out to me.

In-between hoarse screams I managed to bellow back my most concise reply, which consisted of two-thirds crying and one-third ‘please get me down’. Then I snorted back snot.

I didn’t like spiders. I still don’t.

"Rarity! Get it away from me!" I shrieked. I'm not ashamed of saying that I shrieked like a girl. Firstly, I am a girl, and secondly, you'd shriek too if you were scared of something and a giant version of it had you trapped.

I did not appreciate the leisurely pace at which I was being rescued.

“Fascinating creatures actually. They feed off of moonlight and are really very friendly. I think your thrashing is scaring her,” Twilight added.

“She’s scared?!” I retorted.

I sensed movement through the web. It was moving. Oh horseapples it was moving! I thrashed to escape, but it was no use.

“Try not moving, darling! We’re getting Spike to fetch a ladder so we can get you down. The nice big spider is just curious is all!”

“I ju-hu-hust wanted to rela-ha-hax!” I remember sobbing.

The spider’s mandibles clicked together. They sounded like drumsticks hitting one-another at an unnatural frequency.

“What’s she saying, Twilight?” Rarity asked.

“She said she just wanted to relax.”

“I meant the Elder Widow.”

“Oh. Um… I think she’s trying to help Spitfire? I don’t know what with.” Twilight scratched her head. “This is strange. They’re usually very docile and friendly, and I don’t know why she’d spin Spitfire in a web.”

Rarity tilted her head. “All right, this isn’t going to work. Even when the ladder arrives Spitfire isn’t going to be able to get out. Look, the more she moves the more she’s getting tangled.”

“You want me to fly up there?” Twilight asked.

“No, probably better if I do it. Mind levitating me?”

“Of course.”

Legs like tree-trunks shifted around me, and with every tug at my suit and fur my breath caught and I couldn’t help but shriek. No amount of willpower could stop it. It was completely out of my control; a purely instinctive and visceral reaction to being stuck in an Elder Widow’s web.

My eyes were shut tight when Rarity floated up to me. I tried cringing and retracting my legs into my body, but they were all stuck and uncomfortably splayed out.

“Oh, do calm down. This is hardly the first time I’ve seen you tied up.”

“Spiders weren’t involved!”

“No but you were about as loud. Hang on, I’m going to get you… Oh, hello Miss Elder Widow…”

“What’s it doing?” I asked, and carefully opened one eye.

All I saw was the beginning of a massive, dark purple abdomen. I screeched and closed my eyes again.

“Getmeoutgetmeoutgetmeoutgetmeout—”

“I’ve figured it out!” Twilight called. “She’s wearing a spidersilk neckerchief, isn’t she?”

“It’s a scarf actually but yes, that’s right,” Rarity called back.

“I think she thinks that Spitfire was stuck in a web and was trying to get her loose. Try taking her scarf off. Oh, and… I guess your dress as well, now that I notice she’s slightly interested in that too…”

I heard brief sounds of a struggle.

“But it’s mine!”

“We’ll get it back! Just do it.”

I heard Rarity harrumph angrily, and after a few moments, felt her hooves approach my neck. I relaxed a little; at least it was the gentle touch of Rarity, and not the hard chitinous carapace of the Elder Widow touching me. My makeshift neckerchief loosened, and a tug of unicorn magic pulled it free.

“Here you go. You’ll be giving me my marefriend back then, won’t you?”

I heard that same monstrous clicking as before.

“Thank you!”

I felt Rarity’s hooves once again wrap around me, and one at a time, the points where my hooves had become stuck to the web came undone. As soon as I was able I wrapped every one of my legs around Rarity. I had virtually lost my capacity to either open my eyes or fly.

“All right, levitate me down, Twilight.”

I felt us gently descend. Once I realised we were on the ground, I gingerly stepped onto the grass. My eyes, however, remained shut.

“T-take-take me away from here…”

Rarity gently led me in a direction I was utterly unsure of. We passed a few other ponies… who I couldn’t tell. Spectators to my miserable display.

“We’re away. You can open your eyes, darling.”

I opened one eye, and saw Rarity. She was no longer wearing her burgundy dress. I suppose the Elder Widow must have taken it. We sat by the fountain again. Twilight was nearby and shooing away other ponies. I glanced down at my reflection in the water; snot and tears had streamed down my face. I don’t think I had ever looked worse. Not once. And I had gone through my fair share of crashes, especially back in my factory racing days, before getting scouted by Fire Streak.

“Why was there a giant spider in the bestiary?” I croaked, my voice all but gone. I tried to sound indignant but I was too exhausted. My ordeal had wiped me out. I kind of just wanted to sleep.

“She’s a rescue. Its home was destroyed in a wildfire. Fluttershy saved it and took it here.” Twilight sat down. “The caretaker called her Violet, because of her eyes and the colour of her carapace. She’s a bit scary but really very friendly…”

I snorted. It felt rude to reply ‘I don’t care’, so I didn’t, and instead just sort of sat quietly, stewing in my mixture of shock at having been caught in a giant spider’s web and relief that I no longer was. I shuddered. One of the good things about being a flyer was that as a lifestyle I didn't tend to come into contact with many spiders. Or any. Cloudsdale was not a friendly place for spiders, giant or otherwise.

Rarity wore a wan smile. “I’ve never seen you like that,” she said. “I didn’t know you were that scared of spiders.”

“I’m not usually…” I replied. “They’re not usually that huge…” I hiccupped. “Oh great. Now I’m hiccupping.”

“There there,” Rarity muttered, and pressed her head against the side of my neck. “We’ll get you some wine and everything will be better.”

"Well I suppose it is traditional for the Gala to go haywire," Twilight mused to herself. “Sorry about the whole mess. I thought Violet would just be absorbing moonlight at a time like this…”

Twilight looked off into the distance. I followed her gaze, and winced when I saw the outline of the Elder Widow’s gargantuan frame silhouetted against the moon. Utterly still. Terrifying.

Rarity nestled her nose into the fur of my chest. “Looks like I rescued you. That’s one-zero.”

“Oh hardy har.” I snorted. “I didn’t know you could be that cool-headed. It was a giant spider after all.”

“At first I was a bit scared, but when you look at something for a bit you can often see how beautiful something is. And Violet is quite beautiful, in her own way. Besides,” Rarity smiled. “I’ve been in scarier situations on my adventures with Twilight. Whenever I’m around friends I always know it’ll be alright in the end.”

I wiped my eyes. “That’s nice. Maybe you should have my job, and be the one trying to reform the ‘Bolts instead of me.”

“Oh no, I couldn’t possibly. Not enough fashion opportunities as a captain.”

Rarity, in my opinion, looked as radiant outside of her dresses as she did in them. I, by contrast, looked like an utter and total mess. If any of the ‘Bolts had seen me, I’d never have been able to live it down. I’d acquire a whole new nickname. Rarity was beautiful in every context; when she was making dresses, planning new ventures, laughing over dinner and wine, and when she was kissing me and being kissed. But there was more. There was the side that I didn't see as much; the side I missed because I didn't follow her on her adventures. She looked beautiful even when she was protecting me from a giant spider, or comforting me when I had made a mess of myself.

By comparison, I was just me. A captain on her way out, clinging to her manipulative plans, just preparing her job for the next pony to take it. Couldn't save ponies herself so she made an organisation do it for her. Barely enough for whatever task was at hoof.

I could learn so much from Rarity. Grace in all things. That'd be nice.

"Are you alright?" Rarity asked.

I sniffed. "Yeah. I think I'm just emotional or something." I breathed in. "I'll fix it, hang on."

"You don't have to fix everything. You can be emotional for a bit. Nopony's watching."

"Actually, I'm still here..." Twilight said, but was shushed by Rarity.

I closed my eyes, fatigue washing over me. “You know when you go to Yakyakistan?”

“Hmm?”

“I want to go with you.”

Rarity was quiet for a moment. “You’re just saying that because you’re still scared of the giant spider.”

“I’m serious. I want to be with you more.” I buried my nose into her mane and breathed in. I must smell like crap, like sweat and fear, but she smelled like flowers. No flower in particular. Just flowers, too many to name. She also smelled a bit of me; and I liked that. "There's so much more of you I don't get to see. I want to be close to that, too."

“It’ll be hard managing the Wonderbolts from Yakyakistan.”

“When Rainbow comes back she can be my deputy. I’ll take leave. I’ll find a way. Also I'm very fast. I bet I can make the trip for weekends or something.”

Rarity paused. “If you want to, I know you will find a way. But you don’t need to. You don’t need to do anything more than you already are for me to love you.”

“Ha.” I swallowed. “I could scream less, I guess.”

“I like it when you’re loud.”

“I'm still here,” Twilight repeated.

Rarity giggled. “Just make sure you don’t make things too hard for yourself. You’re not invincible.” She raised her eyebrow coyly. “Clearly.”

“Clearly.”

“Just do what you need to do. Always.” Rarity sighed. “Right. Let’s get you cleaned up. You’ve absolutely ruined that suit.”

“Just as well it didn’t come with trousers.”

“Hmm?”

“Nothing.”

Author's Note

ha ha surprise update go brrrr

Welcome to Rescuer, a story about a steady, committed relationship featuring an odd pairing making their way in the universe where the author decides 'hey, spider time'. Which in my defence is a logical escalation from that one joke in chapter one where Spitfire said she didn't like spiders.

Next up, Yakyakistan maybe. Or somewhere else. I haven't decided. Cheers for reading, and if you enjoyed it, feel free to remember that the name of this pairing should definitely be 'Better Sparity'.

Yakyakistan Date

I have made many decisions in my life, and I only regret four of them. My decision to move to Yakyakistan in order to further nurture my fashion industry is not one of those four decisions, no matter how many times I am woken up from my much-needed beauty sleep by their stomping and music nights. However, I had identified some modest areas in which I needed to adapt in order to better function in this foreign, if majestic, land.

The first thing I needed to do was, naturally as would be assumed, learn the basics of civil engineering and architecture, which is something I have come to believe no respectable lady should be without some passing knowledge of. I admire the elegant simplicity of mud-huts but there are some creature comforts I simply cannot do without, and a solid foundation and sensible construction materials is one of them. In all other regards my new home fits in magnificently with the local style and décor. Outwardly. One would never have guessed that the interior was a bit more cushioned and ‘Equestrian’ than its exterior might suggest.

Initially at least. I had since made some modifications that were perhaps a little noticeable, which I shall get into in a bit.

That was the first thing, which became very rapidly apparent after my first night in a Yakyakistan hotel. I enjoy hay as much as the next mare, but I do not enjoy waking up with it infiltrating my mane, my coat, and… other places that would be unladylike to discuss. Also, mud walls? I've seen enough rampaging monsters in my time to know those won't last long when the next Tirek comes along. I'll be using reinforced materials, thank you very much.

The second thing was ensuring that the apparel I designed was somewhat more resilient then I had originally intended. I underestimated the need for my clothes to resist not just the elements but also regular stomping sessions that seemed to occur daily. Hourly, in fact.

The third was it was positively freezing, which highlighted a drastic requirement for a wider selection of scarves for personal use. Also lovely little hoof-boots. The snow was making my horseshoes chafe.

The fourth was that I needed to set up a pair of anti-collision lights above my home. Spitfire tended to fly in after nightfall and quite frankly her crashing into my roof did no favours for either my house’s wellbeing nor hers. I had a little landing strip set up on my roof that leads straight to the bedroom. Unconventional, yes, but there is elegance in its pragmatism. It did somewhat ruin the authentic look of the house but sacrifices must be made in order to entertain one’s pegasus partner.

The fifth was that by Luna’s lascivious locks, Rupert’s enthusiasm for fashion was matched only by his inability to handle a needle smaller than a chopstick. I needed to adapt my tools to suit my employees. I immediately had him use the sewing machine until he gets some practice.

Other than that… Yakyakistan was actually quite pleasant. I had often wished as a young filly to travel and live in Manehattan or Fillydelphia, among other places, but never quite had the time or opportunity. Now I could live out that dream.

I was that evening with a trio of friends I had made at the fire pit, which was where many yaks would congregate to relax after work, and by Celestia’s fashionable yoke I could use some time to relax. I couldn’t tell if it was the frost or if my mane was starting to go a bit grey. Either way I needed a drink.

Rupert, my assistant at the Yakyakistan branch, was drinking deep from a large tankard. I didn’t know exactly where his concoction came from but I preferred to stick to beverages I had at least heard of. Beers and ales were not my cup of tea on either a figurative or literal level but at least they were available and didn’t smell slightly of cheese. I enjoy a Camanebert as much as the next mare but I’m not sure I would want to drink it.

“Any plans for week-end, Rarity?” Rupert asked me.

I leaned back a little, pondering. “Well, it’s the week-end, so Spitfire will be flying up to see me. I expect we’ll do something together.”

Rupert nodded solemnly. “Orange pony flies very far to see you. Must be good friends.”

I took a sip of beer. I didn’t check the brand. I’m not actually sure it had one. “Oh we’re not friends exactly. She’s my partner, and we’re very much in love.” I smiled. “It makes me very happy to see her, even if she is usually very tired when she arrives.”

Ygra, a friend of Ruperts I had been introduced to through him, tilted her head. “Isn’t orange pony one of the big flyers for Equestria?”

Yorgen let out a crude snort. “Ni-i-ice.”

All around me, yaks of various shapes and sizes interrupted their carousing to echo the statement, which I must confess caused me to blush violently. One of the downsides of being a pony as pristinely white as I am is that blushes are very obvious, and several yaks began laughing.

I cleared my throat. “It’s very nice.”

“White horny pony has a famous marefriend!” Yrga roared, and gave he a hearty nudge. “Good catch.”

“I’m famous too, you know. I actually think I’m more famous. Not that it’s a competition. I’m just saying that if it was I would win.”

“I once dated a champion weight-thrower,” Rupert said. “It’s fun having a partner that can fold you in two.”

I spluttered. “Spitfire would never fold me in two. Or… she might if I asked very nicely.” I took another sip of beer. “She’s really rather sweet when she isn’t shouting at recruits. Or trying to plot the Wonderbolts’ success by any means necessary. Well, she can be pretty mean but she works really hard to keep that under control. She’s trying to help a lot of ponies and I support her completely.”

“...But she could fold you in half, is what you’re saying…?”

“Well, yes, I suppose she could. She is very strong and capable.” My mind began to wander. Hmm. I decided it was wise to switch the topic to something else. Sometimes these conversations with the other Yaks got a little out of hoof. They were, on average, a little less delicate than the company I was used to back home, and whilst I admired them for their forwardness, I was perhaps a little unaccustomed to it. “Anyway, it’s very unladylike to talk about that sort of thing. Let it be known only that we are very happy together, and that is that.”

I raised my cup to the sky. “A toast to our new fashion line. I for one can’t wait to see its debut in Yakyakistan.”

The three other yaks similarly raised their own tankards. “Hurrah!” they exclaimed in unison.

“Yes, quite! Hurrah!”

As the sun dipped completely over the horizon, a sudden chill overtook me. The yaks huddled together, still drinking and carousing, as if it were natural. I felt my hoof drift to my side where my Spitfire would have been had she been there at the time. It was always difficult to feel cold around her. She emitted warmth like an oven or an engine.

Rupert seemed to notice my momentary malaise and pulled me next to him with the others. “Stay close, or get cold,” he said. “Yakyakistan not like Equestria.”

I smiled, and relaxed a bit. “I suppose not. I’m still getting used to some of it.”

It’ll get cosier soon, though, I thought to myself. I knew it would. Flying just below the speed of sound was somepony who would make sure of that.

It was customary after working with friends in Yakyakistan to spend time with them by the firepit and tell stories about oneself to get to know the others. As I was new to Yakyakistan and still had many stories to tell and listen to, we ended up staying at the pit quite late. It was freezing, and on the walk back to my boutique (which served also as my home), I was shivering. I had perhaps sacrificed too much warmth for style in my choice of attire, especially for nightfall. Being tired and in need of sleep also did me no favours.

The streets were largely clear of snow, but there were still patches of it, fresh from having fallen. The path was lit mostly from the insides of the Yak huts and houses, many decorated with new items and styles imported from Equestria and beyond after Twilight’s coronation. The yaks were an enthusiastic people and loved embracing new things. It was partly why I chose to migrate here rather than, say, the Dragonlands. That and the yaks actually wore clothes outside of accessories which made them a uniquely attractive market.

My house wasn’t much larger than anyone else's in height, but it was twice the length to support both my business, space for manufacture, and a living space where I could live, cook for myself (thank heavens) and sleep. I levitated my keys into my lock and turned them. The lock was stiff, but I think that was more due to the effects of frost than shoddy craftsmanship.

I entered my home and only took off my boots. The inside of my home was still cold enough to warrant wearing my scarf for a little while longer until it warmed up. I cast a quick spell on a fire and it flickered to life, warding off the chill much as lingerie protects against wayward gazes; ineffectual, but at least it was nice to look at.

I cast a small glance at a picture of my friends; Twilight, Rainbow Dash, Applejack, Fluttershy, and Pinkie. Pinkie had actually been sighted recently at a birthday party in the Dragonlands. Nopony was sure whose party exactly, but the reports said that there were a lot of streamers and birthday cards.

I had discovered that if you wrote a letter to her and just sort of sent it to any address she’d find a way to send a reply. Don’t ask in what state I was when I found that out. We (myself, Applejack, Rainbow, and the others) didn’t know how it worked and we didn’t care to question it. It was a comfort, at least. Myself, Rainbow, and Applejack had been worried that we might never be able to contact her easily again.

Instead it seemed like she had been discovering new lands and friends across the globe, beyond the edges of the map even Twilight had filled. Apparently there were, as Pinkie described them in her letters, very ‘cosmically large and squishy, with a lot of eyes’. She also said that they enjoyed cakes and pranks, so I suspected that they couldn’t be too bad, no matter how disturbing her sketches of them were.

I missed Pinkie Pie a lot. Although I missed finding confetti in my fabrics less.

As the house got a little warmer, I took off my scarf and hat and tossed them onto the sofa. I shook my mane free and stretched. I enjoyed clothes (a mare in my profession ought to) but being free of them was liberating.

As I performed my nightly ablutions I looked at myself in the mirror. I had most certainly aged since the time that picture had been taken. There was definitely grey in my mane. I shuddered. I had contemplated dying it out but then again I wondered if it would perhaps not be more elegant to display it confidently. It wasn’t that I was even that exceptionally old; I had simply led a stress-filled existence full of a lot of running and hiding from nasty large monsters like Tirek, Chrysalis, and Discord. A little grey was no doubt a side effect of that kind of lifestyle.

I checked the time. It was nearly midnight. I had hoped Spitfire would have arrived by now but it seemed she must have been delayed. I personally couldn’t imagine flying at high speeds in this temperature. Partially because I couldn’t fly but also because I wouldn’t subject myself to that sort of thing. It’d also ruin my mane.

I went to bed and tucked myself in. With a small flicker of my horn I extinguished the fire and closed my eyes.

Thump!

I cracked a small smile, still not opening my eyes. I listened to the hoofsteps on my little landing strip, and then heard the sound of the little rooftop door opening and closing.

In the dark, I listened to the sound of a zipper being undone and the door to the bathroom opening. I heard teeth being scrubbed and a quick splash of water. Then the door closed again.

The heavy quilts shifted, and I felt a wave of warmth gently envelope me. Spitfire was always warm, no matter the weather.

I liked her holding me in the dark. I enjoyed feeling her shape, instead of seeing it. I had a critical eye after years working in fashion, and it spoiled some things for me. I liked her feathers running up my side, each one of her primaries rubbing and wavering as they moved. I detected the familiar shapes and geometries I had learned by heart; the distance between each feather and even the little cut on her largest primary on her right wing that I had never known her without. I loved sinking into the thicker, softer coat on her chest and stomach, and brushing over the edges of her neck, transitioning to her shoulder and back muscles, down to the base of her wings with my hoof.

My hoof’s wanderings did not go unnoticed, as I knew it wouldn’t be.

“Hey there, Ma’am.” I felt a warm nose drift down the side of my neck and rest under my ear. “Happy to see me?”

I giggled. I was tired, and a little euphoric as well after the beer. I had been tired until I heard that voice, but now I didn’t want to sleep, ever. “No seeing yet, darling. Just feeling,” I whispered.

Spitfire arched herself slightly as I drew myself closer. Hmmm, I had missed being this close to another pony. I slid my hoof down along her side and across where her cutie-mark was. I felt the base of her tail stiffen and raise somewhat.

“Okay, very happy to see me I guess,” Spitfire said with a chuckle.

I opened my eyes. I couldn’t see her face, only her mane, which even in the dark seemed to glow yellow and gold. “I always am, dear. It’s so much cosier when you’re around.”

A wave of energy overcame me, and I moved out of the quilt and rolled onto her, straddling over her waist. Spitfire turned to look me in the eye. Now I could see her expression, I realised how tired she looked. I forced myself, much against my will, to slow down a bit, no matter how warm and ready I felt.

“Had a nice time in Cloudsdale, I hope?”

“It was fine. I’ve been busy coordinating with Dash about an operation near Appleoosa.”

“Oh?” I brushed Spitfire’s chest with my hoof. I liked how fluffy it was. For want of a better word, ‘floofy’ came to mind. It was floof. I would call it floof. I didn’t care if it’s not quite the sort of word I’d usually use, it was floof and I was nothing if not a mare who knew which words to use.

“Climbers got stuck in a place the locals couldn’t reach. Dash was actually back reporting to the Bolts’ for a while, so I sent her to command Soarin and Thunderlane on a rescue mission before she went back to Griffonstone.” Spitfire sighed. “It took a bit longer than expected, and so she’s still going to be in Cloudsdale next week as well. I let her stay in my place whilst I’m here. Cheaper that way.”

“You’ll regret that,” I told Spitfire.

“Why?”

I spluttered. “I’m sorry, I wasn’t aware you weren’t acquainted with Rainbow Dash.”

“I mean, I guessed that she might not be exactly the cleanest mare out there. I’ve seen her locker. It’s nothing but junk and pictures of Jack. But how bad could it be?”

“I’ll put together a cleaning kit this week-end. You’ll thank me later.”

Spitfire groaned. “That’s what I get for being nice, I guess.”

I leaned down and planted a kiss on her lips. “And I admire you for it.” I flicked my mane and adjusted my hips making myself comfortable, and oh, it was like sitting on velvet. “So, um. How awake are you, exactly?” I bit my lip. “Just curious.”

“I’m a little groggy…” Spitfire admitted with a small chuckle. “But not that sleepy.”

Me and Spitfire explored the town together, her wing wrapped around me, warding off the chill better than any simple scarf. Just as well. I had to get rid of my giant spider silk scarves, even though the thick ones were probably the best I had. Spitfire didn’t like them. The morning was brisk but at least with sunlight it was bearable, and with my mare with me it was even rather pleasant.

“How has progress gone regarding Dash’s little… situation?”

“You mean regarding the old families of Canterlot?” Spitfire tilted her head from side to side. “Pretty good, all things considered. Because the ‘Bolts have been so successful in our rescue missions recently, we’ve been getting both good press, and funding from Twilight and other bodies across Equestria. At the end of the day, results matter the most.”

“I suppose if you’re successful enough, there’s not much anypony can do to stop you.”

“That’s the dream. It’s always a gamble, though. I’m pretty sure that the bureaucracy has it out for me now.” She laughed. “I did basically spit in their eye, did the exact opposite of what they wanted, and got away with it.”

I squeezed Spitfire’s hoof. “They’ll never be able to hit back. You’re far too invincible for that.”

Spitfire was quiet for a moment, and I felt a knot of anxiety in my stomach. I knew this look in her eye. My captain didn’t think she had that much time left. I wasn’t stupid, after all; I was canny enough to read through her plans and back-up plans. Rainbow Dash wasn’t just being moved around to provide her with valuable career experience; she was being kept safe from any eventual backlash against the ‘Bolts. Rainbow, despite her many various failings, was clearly Spitfire’s hope for the future.

I softened. “You care very much about Rainbow, don’t you?”

“I…” Spitfire ran her hoof through her mane. “Yeah. She’s sort of the blueprint of what I wish I was. Just… better, in general. Not as, well, mean.” Spitfire sucked the air in through her teeth. “I feel like I have to try really hard to just not be a vicious… animal. Rainbow and you both made me want to be better, and even though she’s an absolute mess, I respect her a lot for that.”

“You could let her know you care, you know. Rainbow responds well to that sort of thing.”

“Her head’s big enough as it is. She’s got the heart of a great captain; she just needs experience and temperament.”

We passed a small hut with a loom and several pieces of fabric strewn in front of it. Sat on a log was Rupert.

“Hello Miss Rarity! I’m practicing sewing still.”

I gave Rupert a reassuring nod. “Excellent! Keep practicing!” I gestured towards Spitfire. “This is my partner. The one I told you about.”

Rupert put down his needle and got to his hooves. He moved over like a small mountain and loomed over Spitfire. His grin was broad and friendly, but his size would intimidate any pony with a self-preservation instinct. Not that anypony would think he would attack them; it’s just that if he didn’t see them he might accidentally sit on them.

“Hello orange pony!”

“It’s Spitfire. Captain Spitfire.”

Rupert tilted his head. “Look familiar. Have I seen you before?”

“I’m the captain of the Wonderbolts.” Spitfire’s own ego seemed to take over a little, and she flicked her mane in a way that I thought was positively Rainbow-Dashian. “We’re sort of a big deal.”

“Don’t know what that is.” Rupert frowned, and then his eyes widened. “Wait, hang on.”

He trotted into his hut for a moment. Spitfire glanced at me. “He okay?” she asked.

“He’s a fine fellow. He’s still learning needles, but he’s got great design ideas! Really. They only needed to be somewhat reworked.”

There was a clatter inside the hut, and not long after Rupert emerged, carrying what looked like a poster in his teeth. An old one. I dated the artistic style to around ten years ago.

I saw Spitfire harden. Not in fear, like during her encounter with Violet, but in an almost predatory manner. Her eyes flashed with a fight-or-flight instinct that leaned more heavily towards the former than the latter. I was taken aback; reminded that this was still the same Spitfire that had perhaps indulged in a little darkness at some points in her career.

“Dad liked these things. Old pony posters from when Cloudsdale flew close to the northern border. Talked with the fogponies about racing.”

“Wonderbolt racing?” I asked.

“Uh…” Spitfire swallowed and gestured at the poster. “Could you… keep that to yourself? Factory Racing is kind of illegal.”

Rupert looked at the poster. It was of a masked mare, but I could clearly tell it was Spitfire. Same coloration. A little younger looking, perhaps. In her mid to late teens? Younger?

"I have an eye for figure," Rupert said. "Crucial for fashion industry. Definitely you, right?"

“Is that you? What’s this about?” I blinked. “Also what are fogponies?”

“Yes it’s me, factory racing, and fogponies are weatherponies that scoop up mist that leaks out of Equestria to use as fog. They’re the ones that go down to the ground and hunt the rogue clouds down. They’re pretty infamous for trading with locals and even stealing stuff. They’re a bit rougher than your average weatherpony. Mostly skysiders trying to get away from home.”

I held my hooves up. “All right, but… now I have more questions. What’s factory racing? Why is it illegal? And if it’s illegal, why is there a poster of it?”

Spitfire breathed in. “Factory racing is a mostly skysider activity where you fly through the Cloudsdale Weather Factory internal structure. It’s illegal because it is very dangerous. Sometimes you find pieces of ponies who don’t ‘beat the turbines’. If they’re lucky, it’s just a tail. There’s a whole tail-style called a ‘turbine cut’ named after it.” Spitfire narrowed her eyes at the poster. “And there shouldn’t be any posters left. I thought I destroyed them all! When I find Prim Print, I’m going to wring his scrawny neck…”

I levitated the poster. “You look quite dashing though.”

“Y-yes well… whatever.” Spitfire sighed. “I guess if anypony was going to have salvaged them it’d be the fogponies.”

I peered at the poster. “It says ‘Baroness’. A stage name?”

Spitfire blushed. “...it was a phase.”

“I think it’s cute.”

Spitfire blushed more. “I thought it was cool! Look, just forget it. I was supposed to have buried that after I got scouted by Firestreak.”

“Ah, I think I see how he scouted you so early if you were a skysider now,” I commented. I raised my eyebrows once or twice. “He enjoyed watching the illegal races, did he?”

“Yeah. Apparently, him and Wind Rider were both supposed to find recruits. Wind Rider only looked in prestigious groundside schools. Fire Streak wanted an edge over him, so he went to find a factory racer. He then had me coach some of the older recruits… Soarin, Fleetfoot, and some others… and introduced me to the crew that way.”

“He sounds sneaky.”

“I learned most of what I know from him.”

“Very sneaky, then.”

Spitfire turned back to Rupert. “Anyway… just… don’t tell anyone, okay?” She narrowed her eyes. “Or I’ll find you.”

“I know. I live here!”

“I mean… Just don’t. I’ll fold you in half if you do.”

Rupert brightened. “Ah! I was right!”

“Wh—... what? Right about what?”

I glanced at the picture again. Factory racing at such a young age? Spitfire in that picture looked like she had barely gotten her cutie mark.

“Just when I think I don’t know everything about you,” I said, with a little awe in my voice. “You’re full of secrets, aren’t you?”

Spitfire sighed. “A few.” She shrugged. “I… didn’t want to worry you.”

“I don’t see why I’d be worried. You clearly survived.” I leaned in towards her ear. “Of course, I’d be very upset if you took these kinds of risks now.”

“Well… we wouldn’t want you to be upset, ma’am.”

“Indeed we would not.” I cleared my throat and levitated the poster back to Rupert. “I suggest you keep that safe, Rupert dear, and try not to mention it to any ponies. It's part of a past that both of us need to be kept buried.”

“Like a corpse.”

“Y-yes Rupert.” I narrowed my eyes. “Disturbing comparison but yes. Just keep it buried, thank you very much. I’ll see you on Monday.”

Rupert nodded. Me and Spitfire continued our walk through the town. Spitfire was visibly flustered, and she was adorable when she was a little flustered.

“Sorry about that.”

“It’s fine, dear.” I gave Spitfire a kiss on the cheek. “I don’t mind a secret or two.”

Spitfire breathed out. “Yeah, I guess you wouldn’t. It’s just something I’ve always kept on the down low.”

“Could it ruin your career?”

“Ruin? I doubt it. But it’d upset it for sure, especially amongst the groundsiders. Heck, the skysiders would probably just respect me for it. They like factory racers. The racers are sort of like local celebrities up there.”

“Is it really that dangerous, though?”

Spitfire shrugged. “Depends on the track. There are lightning plants… massive organisms that grow on clouds. Lightning bolts leap from cloud to cloud… they’re quite safe, because as a pony, we’re not grounded. The rain vats, the tubes, and the bridges are all tight and narrow to fly through, with a lot of sharp turns and dips. Dangerous, but survivable. The pipes aren’t like clouds where you just fly into them like a big cushion. They’re hard, and the edges are sharp.” Spitfire extended her left wing towards me. “Ever wondered where this cut on my primary came from?”

“Not any more.”

“Yeah. Anyway. The rainbow processing plant is pretty okay but you can get some nasty burns if you get hit by the spray. The fog chambers are impossible to see in. And the wind turbines are the worst. We called flying through the turbines ‘beating the turbines’, because that’s what it felt like. A sort of battle to survive. Those blades are massive. I had never seen an accident myself, but I’ve heard horror stories.”

“Why do it then?”

“Money?” Spitfire shrugged. “Me and mom were poor. I was a good flyer. I told her I just got a real cushy job tutoring some rich groundsider in flying, but I was actually sneaking off to the factory past nightfall.” She held her hoof up. “Oh yeah, did I mention this happens at night so visibility is poor all the time? Because it does.”

I saw Spitfire hesitate a moment, and frown. Her eyes glazed over a moment as she seemed lost in recollection.

“That… and living skyside does something to you. The empty void above you, always just… gaping out into infinity… it makes you feel tiny. Like risks don’t matter. Like you don’t matter.”

“You matter to me,” I said.

“I know. But back then I didn’t have you.” Spitfire caught herself, and flashed me a small smile. “Well. That was a trip down memory lane I wasn’t expecting.”

“Just more evidence that you’re invincible,” I whispered, and kissed Spitfire on the cheek. “You never have to worry about scaring me. I don’t mind you keeping things from me if you want to keep them hidden, but we’ve been together long enough for you to know that if you want to confide in me, I’ll always listen.”

Spitfire kissed me back on the forehead, just by the base of my horn. It tingled; Spitfire knew I liked being kissed there. “Thanks. I guess it’s just a side of me that I’m trying to hold back around you. You know. The ‘will do anything at any cost’ side.” She grinned. “I love you so much.”

“Come along. You haven’t seen the fire pit, have you? It’s quite a sight.”

“I’ll show you my fire pit later.”

I gave Spitfire a playful shove. “Darling, not in public.”

“I said later…”

Spitfire was awkwardly sandwiched between me and Yorgen as we listened to the yak music in the music hut. The yaks were swaying from side to side in silence.

Spitfire, for once, didn’t dare to make a noise. Perhaps she was aware, on some small level, that if she made a wrong move she might be crushed by the yaks. Apparently it was very important to be quiet when listening to music with the yaks. They enjoyed just appreciating the art for what it was.

I wrapped my hoof around hers, and she squeezed it gently. It was a strange, unusual life, what I had in Yakyakistan, but for now, I liked it very much. Even if yak hair did get somewhat uncomfortably stuck in my mane.

The song being played in question was a changeling song. A lovely artist; combined both male and female chords to produce a sound very few ponies could achieve. It had melody and grace, and it wasn’t something I had expected to hear in Yakyakistan before I visited, but I was persistently impressed and awed by how enthusiastic the yaks were at importing foreign things.

Spitfire gradually relaxed as well, and rested her head against mine. I glanced at her, and noted that her eyes were closed. I hoped she wasn’t too tired from her flight to Yakyakistan. She had been keeping this routine up for a few weeks now, and I was a little worried that she might be burning the candle at both ends.

I was thoroughly convinced that Spitfire truly did love me very much, and I admired her to no end for her drive to use the Wonderbolts for the betterment of ponykind, but I was always reminded of the phrase that the brightest stars burn out the fastest. Spitfire was burning very brightly indeed.

Every time I thought she would hit her limit, she seemed to draw on a reserve I didn’t know she had. My time with Spitfire taught me that her true strength wasn’t speed, or her intelligence, or her ability to plan ahead; it was this brutal, awesome power she could summon at any time that could overcome any obstacle. The more fierce the obstacle, the fiercer she could become.

I never wanted to see her reach her limits. I always wanted to watch her burn as bright as the sun.

That was partly why I felt conflicted about her being here, with me. I was clearly taking a toll on her; she flew all this way through the cold, away from her home in Cloudsdale, just because she loved me. The agreement had been that we wouldn’t get in the way of each other's careers, but this was exactly what I had inadvertently done to her, just by being in a relationship with her.

“You’re thinking again, aren’t you?”

I looked down at Spitfire and fell into her large, amber eyes. “The song is still—”

“The song ended, darling.” Spitfire cleared her throat. “I mean, ma’am.”

“Ma’am indeed. Darling is my pet name,” I reprimanded.

“What were you thinking about?”

“Just…” I struggled for words. “I was wondering… again… if you were alright flying all the way here every week-end. It seems… tiring.”

“It is, but it’s easier than flying all the way to Cloudsdale, right?”

“I mean… yes, but I feel a bit… well, bad for not putting in the same effort you are. Is that silly?”

Spitfire shrugged. “It is what it is, I guess.” She got to her hooves. Shall we go home? It’s getting late.”

Our home was cold when we got back, as it always was, but it felt hotter with Spitfire there.

We sat down on the couch I had imported from Ponyville and cracked open a bottle of marelot I kept for special occasions and poured each other a glass. I flicked my horn and the fire burst to life, casting alluring shadows on Spitfire’s face.

“It’s like I never left Ponyville,” Spitfire quipped.

“I am a mare who likes her home to be habitable. I admire the yak culture but I have decided that I do not wish to live like them.”

We sat opposite one another, and I coyly let my hoof brush against the inside of Spitfire’s leg. Spitfire slid down the couch, and took a sip of wine.

“So… about our talk…”

I nodded.

“I know I must look like I’m burning out. Sometimes I feel like I’m on the brink of just… running out of juice. But you know, I’ve felt that way for a long, long time. I’ve always pushed myself to my limits and a bit beyond. It’s just hardwired in me.” She took another sip of wine. “It’s easier now though. Even with all the flying back and forth and the cold… I think this is easier. You give me energy, like… like a fuel. Every time I see you I feel powerful. Bursting with it. Not strong, or fast, but like I’m better. Better in every way.”

Spitfire chuckled slightly. I smiled at her, and took a sip of wine. It was nice. A bit cool, perhaps… could have warmed up a little before drinking. It had a sweetness I appreciated.

“Sorry. I guess that sounds like I’m just using you, kind of,” Spitfire said.

My horn flickered, and I tugged Spitfire by her chest floof towards me. Spitfire put her wine down gently as I slowly pulled her on top of me. Spitfire was trying so hard to rein herself in like she was wearing a bridle. I understood why. Not everything she had done was good, and I respected her trying to overcome that.

But I wanted her to be safe with me. To not be so worn out all the time. I wanted her to cut loose.

“I like the sound of that,” I said, dropping my voice to a whisper as I felt heat overtake me. “Use me.”

Spitfire seemed to hesitate, taken aback somewhat. A part of her always held back, as if there was a vicious animal side to her that she always wanted to keep in check.

I wanted to see Spitfire always shine bright. Not to mention… I didn’t mind the idea of being used a little. If it was her.

Spitfire pounced with a voracity I was unaccustomed to. A predatory side she wrestled to keep hidden, now on full display. I knew she was strong, but it was rare for her to utterly overwhelm me with strength and power. She was wiry and ferocious. She was barely kissing me; this felt more like being devoured.

The side of her that had risked her life in factory races, that was sly and vicious enough to try and manipulate Rainbow to switch teams, the side of her that pursued victory at all costs… there was an aggression deep inside Spitfire, a cause of those vicious symptoms. Did I like those parts of her? The darker side to Spitfire’s brightness? Not entirely, but they were a part of her as well, and with me, she was safe to cut loose. I wanted her to free herself. She could feed that side with me, on me, and I’d enjoy it.

I was in love with all of her, even the darker sides. I wanted to see it all, feel it all. I wanted to see her at her best, and her most sinister. I wanted everything she could give me. Not a washed out version that was too exhausted fighting itself to be either.

I whimpered, lost control of my wine glass, and frustratingly wasted almost an entire glass of expensive marelot.

Spitfire would leave Yakyakistan every Monday in order to make it back to Cloudsdale in time for work. Aggravatingly, in order to make it on time, she had to leave before the break of dawn.

She was already suited up in her Wonderbolt uniform and had her bag slung over her back. Despite the early morning, her eyes were bright and alive. She looked more awake than me, that was for certain. I hadn’t yet done up my mane or fixed the atrocious wasteland that was my face. My coat, in particular, was a mess from having been rubbed against virtually every surface I owned at one point or another, in one position or another. I was also inappropriately sweaty and wanted a shower, but since Spitfire wouldn’t have the opportunity to wash properly once she got to Cloudsdale, she had priority to use the shower.

Besides, once Spitfire left I was honestly just going to go back to sleep. I could have a shower later. Spitfire looked re-energised but I was exhausted. Four in the morning was not a suitable time for a gentlemare to wake up.

“I’ll see you Friday. Or… well, late. You know.” Spitfire turned and gave me a kiss on the cheek. “You’re beautiful.”

“Yes, yes, we all know how good you are at lying. We’re all very impressed,” I teased, and yawned.

“I’m serious,” Spitfire replied with a smirk. “Your mane looks good when it’s loose.”

I rolled my eyes. “Well. I’ll be the judge of that. I am the expert.”

Spitfire laughed. “Judge away, ma’am.” She trotted out to the landing strip. “I’ll bring back some Cloudsdale Cirruspirits next time.”

“Please do.”

The door closed, and I sat down on the bed. I sighed. I missed her already.

I got to my hooves and went to the bathroom, and gazed upon the desolation that was my reflection. I turned my head to the side.

“Hmm. Actually, I do rather like the mane.” I smiled. “Right. I’ll see what I can do with that. Now. I think I’d like to get some sleep… then maybe I’ll write a letter to Pinkie Pie. It’s been a while since we chatted.”

Author's Note

Update time!

Hope you enjoyed the chapter. No giant spiders this time.

Skyside Date

Damn, did I not want to be back skyside.

I spent my entire foalhood trying to get out of the damn place, and a hefty slice of my adulthood dragging my mom out after me, and now I was right back where I started. The sun was setting over the horizon, and at this altitude, the shadows it cast were weird and strange. The light came from below, peeking over the edges of the structural clouds, like standing on the edge of a lamp.

The majority of Cloudsdale was beautiful. The side that Rarity had seen was beautiful. The side that Rainbow was born in was beautiful. Gorgeous. Probably the prettiest place in Equestria.

Skyside was like a wasteland of right-angle cloudcrete. Pipes jutted from the smoothened streets and railingless planks of cloud were constructed in a mockery of earth-Equestrian streets so the cargo and factory parts could be rolled from cloud to cloud. It wasn’t beautiful. It struggled to be considered bearable. At least the signs, powered by local Cloudsdale lightning, cast colourful, if eerie, lights across the rapidly darkening streets. They staved off the absolute darkness at night and at least broke up the endless vista of white, grey, and sky blue.

My old house wasn’t far from here, though ‘house’ was a strong word for a pathetic place. ‘Home’ was also generous in the extreme. I didn’t want to see it again; it had been nothing but inhospitable and dreary. A place I swore I’d get out of.

Rarity complained about the cold in Yakyakistan. If she knew how freezing it was skyside she’d never even open her mouth about it again. Inside me burned a fire that kept me from feeling the cold, but the frigid atmosphere sapped my energy away regardless. I felt angry just to get my blood pumping.

Shops were open late around these parts, since all the pegasi up here worked late hours at the factory. Weather didn’t sleep, so neither did Cloudsdale. Many bars and shops were all night places. There was a camaraderie, but it was frosty and bitter, like everything was up here. Ponies enjoyed each others company because they never really knew when they might be relocated to a different part of the sky, or even turn on each other as bits got scarce. Whilst ponies could be friends, they were, but it was an uneasy friendship at best. It had been that way for centuries; clearly even Twilight’s reforms hadn’t reached the highest altitudes yet.

The sooner I got what I needed the sooner I’d be able to leave, and this thought drove me forwards like an engine. At least this was my element, and unpleasant though it was, it was an unpleasantness I was accustomed to. A dark, hostile place for a pony trying to strangle her demons and forget her past.

I glided over the streets, scanning the familiar streets and corners. Looking for anypony I recognised. A point of contact. I hoped it wouldn’t be Nimble; I never did really say goodbye properly, and it was an awkwardness I wasn’t looking forward to.

I felt a shiver run down my back, and it wasn’t due to the cold. Something was tailing me. You learned these instincts when you were in my horseshoes. I saw the shadow fall across the street and heard the flapping of wings maintaining a constant distance away from me, too quiet to be a casual passer-by but too loud to escape my notice. A mugger, somepony trying to sell me something, or just a creep. I didn’t know, and I barely cared.

I shook my head. I was reverting; the side of me that I had been hiding away after meeting Rainbow Dash and falling in love with Rarity emerging from deep inside. It was just instincts. Check your back. Show no mercy. Do what needs to be done. It’s not cruelty, it’s pragmatism. It’s not fair, it’s fair enough.

I landed. I just needed to survive whilst I was up here. Keep my head, keep my cool, and then when I got back home I could continue being the new, optimistic, heroic Spitfire I wanted to be so desperately.

In the meantime…

I whirled around and came face to face with a shadowy figure lurking in the absence of sunlight. My eyes must have flashed with violence, because the figure shrank away, flinching. My wings flared and my hackles raised. Every part of my body screamed at my pursuivant to get away.

She yelped.

“Whoa whoa whoa! It’s just me, captain.”

I widened my eyes. The streetlights, powered by the gargantuan power-plants hidden deep within the clouds, flickered to life and cast an unhealthy green glow on the streets. The glow fell upon a rainbow mane and sky blue coat. She didn’t look scared; just alarmed and cautious. Her wings were folded, indicating submission.

“Rainbow?” I asked, and cast a glance around me, my heart still racing. “What the hay are you doing here? Aren’t you supposed to be in Griffonstone where I told you to be?”

Rainbow Dash tucked her wings behind her and tightened her jacket; she looked colder than I felt. Probably her groundsider blood unused to these absurd conditions. “AJ’s visiting her family in Ponyville so I came with.”

“Okay,” I said, detensing. “That explains why you’re in Equestria. Why are you skyside? Why are you here?”

“Favour for Rarity.” Rainbow tilted her head and flicked her tail, like her mind was racing to come up with an excuse. Eventually she seemed to settle on a strategy, and with exaggerated realisation, gasped, “No way. You’re here for the same reason?”

“Might be,” I said, looking away. I wondered how much Rainbow knew. Clearly she was looking for me, not anything else. How much Rarity had told her? And would Rainbow tell Rarity that I knew as well? If she did, how would Rarity take it?

Rainbow smirked. “Okay, you definitely are. Let me guess, you squeezed the mailmare for info?”

“I asked politely.” I straightened. “I did not squeeze anypony.” I glanced around. “Yet. The night is young.”

“It’s okay, I figured you’d have found out what happened to the package. You always know more than you let on,” Rainbow quipped. She gave me a friendly pat on the side. “So. Team-up? You look stressed out of your mind.”

I rolled my eyes, not wanting to involve anypony else in a personal matter. Then again, I trusted Rainbow Dash. Almost as much as I trusted Rarity, even. I trusted her more than I did myself in many ways. She was, after all, the reason I had tried to change, and the reason Rarity was still alive. As far as I was concerned, I owed Rainbow more than my life. Not that I would ever tell her that.

“Sure.” I sighed. “This is a cold place to talk. Let’s catch up at the Guts.”

Rainbow’s face lit up. “Nice. You’ve no idea how long I’ve been wanting to have a good old-fashioned Cloudsdale Lightningtail.”

The Guts was a dingy bar in dire need of some tender love and care, but it was warm. The outside of it looked like the cloudcrete equivalent of a cardboard box with a door and a neon sign; pragmatic, cheap, and just barely functional.

The inside was not much nicer. Heaters powered by electricity were hung above every table to stave off the below-zero temperatures, and the warmth of other ponies made the whole place cosy, if humid and somewhat smelly. This was especially important in a bar, since if it got too cold the drinks would become a bit more solid than ponies liked.

I remembered pretending to be older than I was in order to come in and sneak some drinks with the older factory racers. The bartender knew I was too young, of course, but I was also a factory racer. They liked me.

I noted a few wayward glances in my direction. Even if they didn’t remember me from the old days, they definitely recognised Spitfire, the captain of the ‘Bolts, and her poster-girl Rainbow Dash. A lot of ponies knew that I was a skysider by birth, but a surprisingly small number of them knew much about it, outside of my old circle of friends of course. It was a past I hadn’t buried per se, but by never drawing attention to it it had faded from public recollection. Now I was just Spitfire.

“So,” I addressed Rainbow as the waitress brought us our drinks. “Fogponies got greedy and stole a bunch of mail on its way north. Probably to grab any bits being sent to the Crystal Empire. Normally this isn’t something I’m really supposed to deal with but they also stole a package Rarity was expecting, and… Rainbow?”

Rainbow Dash was coddling her drink, a tall glass of crystal blue liquid. Every second or so a crackle of electric yellow flickered between the bubbles. She looked like she was being reunited with a long-lost family member.

“Sorry, but I haven’t had one of these in ages. They don’t have ‘em in Griffonstone and when I visit Ponyville it’s just cider, cider, cider. Not that that’s bad but… c’mon, this is the best Cloudsdale drink.”

I sighed, and felt a small smile crawl over my face, her innocence infecting me just by looking at it. This was why I liked Rainbow Dash. She made me feel less of a terrible person. I didn’t even really know how she did it; she just did. Before she arrived I had been so tense, but not five minutes after she showed up and I felt like a new mare.

“Rainbow? You listening?”

“Huh?” Rainbow took a sip, and immediately scrunched her face up like she had just swallowed a lemon. “Ooooh it’s been ages since I’ve felt that! The way it crackles, ha ha ha…”

“I said, foggies stole—”

“I heard, I heard.” She took another sip. “You know what the package was?”

“Nope,” I lied. “Only that it’s important to Rarity and she was pretty broken up about it.”

“Okay,” Rainbow said, her ears flicking forwards. She was alert. “So you came Skyside to track down the fogponies?”

“Something like that. I am from these parts, after all. Figured if anypony could track it down, it’d be me.”

“Huh.”

“And you’re here…?”

“Because... Rarity said fogponies had stolen some package and asked if I could look for it. Skyside. Where I… guess they live?”

I rolled my eyes. “No she didn’t.” I pointed at her with my hoof. “Rarity told you something but it wasn’t that. I can tell.”

Rainbow groaned. “Fine! She said that you’d do something dumb like go and look for it and if you did I was supposed to help you, and also not tell you that she said that.” She pouted. “But you didn’t let me keep that secret, did you?”

“No I did not.” I leaned back, stroking my chin. “Fine, well… look, I’m not dumb. I wasn’t going to turn the whole place upside down looking for some package, no matter how valuable. I just wanted to take a look and see what I could find, because it seemed important.”

“Right, sure. Because you never turn things upside down.”

I snorted. “That a quip, Crash?”

“Yup. Ever since I joined the ‘Bolts you’ve done nothing but plan and plot to change things.” Rainbow took a long sip of her drink. “I mean, it’s a good cause and everything, but it’s not exactly what I signed up for. I thought I was going to fly around and do tricks. Let me tell you, practicing rescue drills and balancing operations and contests is a lot of effort. In fact, moving to Griffonstone has been relaxing by comparison.”

“I’m sorry about that. But this is something that I think needed to happen.” I leaned in. “For centuries the old families have been twisting the Wonderbolts from a force that defended Equestria and the princesses into some propaganda tool. I couldn’t let that keep happening after… Well.”

“After Rarity. I know.”

I nodded. “No more failed rescues.”

Rainbow shrugged. “It’s cool. I’m into saving ponies too. I just hope that you’re still ready for the Equestria Games next year.” She grinned. “Because I am. The griffons taught me a few tricks I’m looking forward to showing off!”

I nodded. “More ready than ever.”

“Okay then. So. You got any contacts to find this package?”

I nodded. “Two. One of which I actually don’t mind talking to. Name’s Gear Gritter. He knows… or at least, knew, everypony around here. He’ll know where to find the foggers.”

“Sweet. We’ll start with him. Where does he live?”

“I have no idea.”

“Great.”

It didn’t take too long to find a lead on Gritter. He knew everypony, which meant that everypony knew him. Normally not a lot of ponies here would talk to an honorary groundsider like the captain of the ‘Bolts, but I had the advantage of being loaded, so I could easily throw a few bits around to get what I wanted. The bartender didn’t make it his business to give his customers locations out to suspicious mares like me, but one of the waiters wasn’t so scrupulous.

“You know, for a mare who likes to act all professional, you know your way around here real good,” Rainbow commented. “I’ve only been skyside once or twice. I mean, my parents lived here when I was a baby foal, but they got a place groundside pretty quick.”

I flicked my tail. I already knew all that, but Rainbow didn’t need to know that I knew.

“It’s cold up here. I’m used to high altitudes, but this is something else,” Rainbow went in, ignoring my silence.

Night had fallen completely, and Rainbow looked like she was hemorrhaging heat. I could only really imagine how bad it’d be for Rarity.

Honestly, I just wanted to be back with her at this point. Being back here made me uncomfortable. Rainbow Dash helped, but it wasn’t really the same.

“So, how’s Stormy Flare?”

I paused. “My mom’s fine.” We trotted around a corner, following our directions to the letter. “I’ve moved her to a hospital in the Crystal Empire.”

“So… still not great then?”

“You’re not good at small talk, are you?” I commented, scanning the street for Gritter. “No wonder you struggled with the orange girl for so long.”

“She’s more of a sort of autumnal gold.” Rainbow held her hooves up. “Her words, not mine. I would have called it brown.”

“Uh-huh.” I sighed. “Mom’s getting the best treatment she can get, but honestly, the best treatment to sky-sickness is just… being away from the sky.” I gestured up at the empty void above me. “That big hole in space does stuff to your mind.”

“I think the sky’s pretty cool.”

“You would think that. They say the simple ones are immune to sky-sickness.”

“Yeah.” Rainbow trotted up beside me. “The mean ones too.”

“No wonder we both avoided it, then,” I retorted, and Rainbow gave me a playful nudge.

We trotted in silence for a while longer. It didn’t last long.

“So, I gotta ask, what’s the horn like?” Rainbow asked.

“Painful.”

“Huh.”

“I wouldn’t recommend it. The ridges on them are kind of like cheese-graters and most of the spells Rarity knows involve needles.”

Rainbow bobbed her head from side to side, as if she were re-evaluating her worldview, a modest amount of disappointment evident in her expression. Suddenly her ears flicked forwards and her wings flared. Her eyes flicked to the side, then back to me. “That your guy?” she asked, and gestured to the side, towards the darkness.

I glanced over towards where she pointed; a fire-barrel, surrounded by pegasi dressed in padded clothing. Flanked by two larger pegasi was Gritter; a pony about my age, with stubble and an eyepatch.

“How’d you recognise him?”

“Dunno. He just looked like a ‘Gritter’.”

I shrugged and trotted towards the grimy stallion.

“Hey,” I grunted.

Gritter looked up at me, and squinted.

“Baroness?” he asked, his face lighting up with glee. “What in the name of the big blue sky are you doing here? Weren’t you supposed to be making cloudfulls of bits and never come back?”

Rainbow glanced my way at the mention of the name ‘Baroness’. I breathed in. “Yeah, well, that was the idea. But I’m looking for something.”

Gritter leaned to the side, his one eye glinting mischievously. Gritter was always a playful one. “Oh yeah?”

“Yeah.” I tilted to the side. “Fogponies took something from some mailmare heading to the Crystal Empire. I know that all the stuff they steal comes back up here…”

Gritter nodded. “Yup. That rings a bell.”

“I’m not looking to snitch on anypony, I just want a package they took. I’ll even pay for it.”

“Uh huh.” Gritter looked over at Rainbow Dash, ignoring me for a second. A sly smile played across his lips, accompanying a mischievous flutter of his wings. “Didn’t expect to see the golden girl up here. Thought she’d be too busy being an idol. Here to back up your captain?”

Rainbow shrugged. “Pretty much. So?”

“Nothing. Just wondered how much you know about your captain is all.” Gritter leaned in towards Rainbow. “She used to be a factory racer. You knew that?”

“Yeah.”

“Oh?”

I raised my eyebrow. “Oh?”

Rainbow glanced my way. “Rarity told me?”

“No she didn’t. She wouldn’t.”

“Fine! What do you want me to say? I paid attention to factory racers when I was a filly. I never went to see them because, y’know, crime, but I knew all the popular ones, before… well, I found out how many didn’t last long. Then I lost interest.” She frowned. “Besides, c’mon, the Fire Baroness? You couldn’t have picked a less obvious alter ego?”

I sighed. “Wh-whatever. Okay, Gritter. Have your fun with Rainbow. Tell her all my juicy little secrets, why don’t you?”

Gritter grunted, deflating. “No. It looks like she already knows ‘em.” He sighed, and turned around. “She’s no fun at all.”

Rainbow’s wings flared. “I’m plenty fun!”

Gritter rummaged around in a sack that was propped up against a wall behind him. Eventually he pulled out a neatly wrapped box. “This yours?” he asked, and threw me the parcel.

It was addressed to Rarity. I looked back at Gritter, confused. “You expected me to show up?”

“I read the papers. The magazines. Captain Spitfire, in a relationship with the up-and-coming fashionista and national hero, Rarity. Such a power couple!” He gestured at the parcel. “The fogponies came through with that. I decided to hold onto it. You may not believe me, but you’re still remembered pretty fondly around these parts, Baroness. By, uh, me at least. And the others. You know. The old crew.”

I sighed. “Well… thanks.” I looked away. “Um. How’s Nimble?”

“Okay. She was real upset you left her but c’mon. You were both young. She got over it. She’s a long-distance flyer now with a foal, believe it or not. And here I thought she wouldn’t go within ten miles of a stallion.” He smiled. “The lad’s name is Diver. You’d like him. Spends most of his time out over the ocean scooping up the water for cloud production, and their little filly is a tough sack of nails. Kinda like you, if I’m honest.”

“And Lift?”

Gritter’s expression darkened. “Uh… not great. About a year after you left he got beat by the turbines.”

I winced. “He alive?”

“Barely. Missing some parts. Moved to Filly’. He’s an author now.”

I grimaced. I liked Lift. “I told him that we couldn’t keep being the lucky ones forever. We both knew that after the incidents.”

Rainbow tilted her head. “You ever seen any accidents?”

“No. I never saw any accidents,” I said. I wanted Rainbow to believe me, in case she reported back to Rarity. I didn’t like the idea of Rarity knowing too much about what I used to be.

Gritter cackled. “She didn’t see ‘em because she was always in front. She always used to say that line.” He leaned in. “Bet she heard them, though.”

I blocked the memories before they could even enter my head. I was good at that. I had a history of not being able to save ponies; whether it was through apathy, or incompetence. “Yeah.”

“All over now. Baroness is a ‘Boltie now.” Gritter sighed. “Just as well. The racers never last long and it’d be a shame for you to go before you even reached eighteen solstices.”

I breathed in, and looked down at the parcel.

“You sure you don’t know what’s in there?” Rainbow asked, her eyes narrowing.

I glanced her way, and then turned back to Gritter. “I… should go. I’ve got another life now.”

“Sure you do.” Gritter smiled. “Take care of your ma’ now, right?”

“Will do.”

Me and Rainbow flew through the empty skies. I can’t stress how different it is, flying this high, compared to flying at lower altitudes. There was just less to ground yourself with. Up and down became arbitrary concepts. It was easy to get disoriented.

“You know Rarity was way more worried about you than she was about that parcel?”

I nodded. “Yup.”

“Just checking.”

I tucked it under my foreleg. Rarity had been right to worry. This trip was more than I felt comfortable with. Rainbow made it bearable, at least. I decided to make some conversation, keep my mind off things.

“You’ll be flying down to Ponyville after this, then?” I asked.

“Yeah. Cloudsdale isn’t that far from Ponyville. I’ll be there before dawn.”

“You could stay at my place if you want.”

“Nah. The Acres is fine. Besides, I like flying at night.” Rainbow glanced downward. “I’m used to waking up late anyway.”

“How’s Griffonstone?”

“Great. I actually love it there. Teaching has been great. It’s like moving to Ponyville all over again.” Rainbow beamed. “It’s not as great as being with Twilight, Pinkie, Rarity and the others, but it’s still awesome.”

“Any word from your other friends?”

“Fluttershy is doing great. Cataloguing animals in other dimensions with Discord. Dunno where Pinkie is. AJ’s been sending letters but we’ve not been able to decipher them.”

“Uh-huh.”

We landed by a large parting in the clouds, which served as a funnel through which flyers could travel up and down through the city of Cloudsdale. Peering down it looked like a vast well full of lights; the further down you looked, the more active things became. The hum of civilization emanated from it.

“Thanks for being here,” I said. “I was… really on edge before you got here. This place does stuff to you. Or at least, to me.”

“I get it. There’s stuff I don’t like going back to from the past too.” Rainbow smiled. “You know I used to be bullied, right?”

I did, but I feigned ignorance. “Really?”

“Yeah. It sucked.”

“I was never bullied. I guess… I was kinda the bully, to be honest. They called me a genius and treated me different and… a lot of the time I’d let it get to my head.”

We stood in silence for a moment. I was tired. I could tell Rainbow was too, although in a different way than me. She looked physically tired after flying from Griffonstone, presumably. I was mentally tired.

“Well, that’s all over now. A lot has happened to us since we were fillies.”

As Rainbow peered down the chute, towards her home, I looked up at the sky, pondering.

I was different. I had gotten away from this place and even started to change. I had a family now; not a family I had to take care of just to ensure they survived and didn’t succumb to the madness exposure to the open empty sky could cause, but one I had chosen and felt comfortable with.

She even put up with my secrets and plots! Not only did she put up with them, she knew how to work with them. Everything she had told Rainbow was done with the understanding that I wouldn’t have just asked her for help. That was how well Rarity knew me at this point, and how much she knew how Rainbow could help me.

She was better than me in virtually every way. I had needed to be kickstarted into trying to be a better mare; Rarity and Rainbow just did it by nature.

I stared at the sky, lost in thought. There was something about the sky that made me feel insignificant; like it didn’t matter who I was or what I did, I would always just be swallowed up by its big empty void. Even now, it made me anxious; compared to the vastness of nothing what could even Rarity do? I felt a tingling in my hooves, and my primaries twitched.

Rainbow glanced my way, her eyebrow raised. “Captain?”

“What?”

“You really look tired, Captain,” Rainbow commented, a maturity I hadn’t seen before on full display. “You want me to accompany you home?”

Coming back skyside was a mistake. I had left for a reason. I considered rebuffing Rainbow, but I thought better of it. I was tired. I didn’t feel right. I felt drained. I just wanted to sleep.

“Yeah, please. I could use a wingpony.”

It was the next day, at the end of the week, that I flew back home towards Yakyakistan. I now had the benefit of a good night’s sleep, and I felt much stronger and more confident. The uncomfortable mixture of stress and fatigue had loosened its hold over me.

I still had the parcel I had retrieved for Rarity, safe in a satchel I had slung over my back. It felt heavy, despite not weighing much of anything. I hadn’t gone through reliving my past for nothing.

The trip north was gruelling, but one I was easily able to make. I flew close to the ground, the landscape whipping past me like a blur. I easily kept track of the obstacles and navigated them expertly. Compared to factory racing, this was a piece of cake. In fact, compared to factory racing, most things were a piece of cake. The most dangerous environment to fly in had always been the one ponies themselves had made.

At these speeds it took roughly five hours to fly from Cloudsdale to Yakyakistan. A normal pegasus wouldn’t be able to do this in a day.

As I flew over the town Rarity lived in, I saw the little lights indicating where the landing strip she had constructed on the roof was. I swooped down, tilting my wings to create more drag and slow down. Gradually, I lost altitude.

Landing was easy. I knew my hoofsteps would wake her up. They always did. I opened the door and trotted inside the bedroom. Its warmth engulfed me, and I breathed a sigh of relief, letting go of a breath I hadn’t realised I was holding.

Rarity sat up as I walked towards her. I smiled. “Hey.”

Rarity sighed at me. Her horn flickered and the lights came on. Her expression was one of resigned exasperation.

“I got a message from Rainbow. I expect you brought me the parcel?”

“Yeah.”

“Even after I told you it wasn’t worth worrying about?”

“Yeah.”

Rarity sighed. “Well I don’t know what I expected.” She tilted her head, and she bit her lip. She was nervous. “Um, Rainbow said you didn’t know what was in it…”

“That’s what she said.”

“But you do know. You always know more than you say you do.”

“Yup.” I sat down on the bed and handed her the parcel. It was a little worse for wear than it had been when it was sent, no doubt.

“I… I just…” Rarity breathed out, struggling for words. “I just wanted to have it available… I didn’t want you to, ah, find out in these circumstances…”

I slid the parcel towards her. “I know.”

“Oh, you must feel so smug,” Rarity grumbled, the fur around her neck fluffing up as she retracted her head down, unamused.

“No.” It was true. I didn’t feel smug or self-satisfied. I just felt like I had given something precious to Rarity back to her, no matter what it was. “I don’t need an engagement band to love you, and I don’t want it until you’re comfortable giving it.”

I leaned towards Rarity and gave her a kiss on her cheek. Even in the relative darkness, I could see her go red. That was one of the benefits of dating a pony as white as her; you could always see her blush.

“I…”

I wrapped my hoof around her. After being skyside, I just wanted to pull her closer to me. To be near her. She made me feel free even as I was held in place.

The sensation I had felt staring at the sky the day before was banished. For how long, I didn’t know… but whilst I was with her, I knew I couldn’t possibly feel safer. The bases of my wings relaxed and they dipped low against my body.

Rarity pulled me towards her, and I smothered myself into her coat. “I…” She cleared her throat, deflecting. “I expect Rainbow performed admirably?”

I chuckled. “She was great. I was stupid to try and go alone.”

“Yes, well, that’s why I’m here. I can read you like a book.” Rarity breathed out, the air from her lungs making the back of my neck damp. “Anyway. Get out of that silly uniform and then come to bed. You look tired.”

“I am tired.”

“Hurry up then.”

I pulled away and moved towards the bathroom. “Will do, ma’am.”

Rarity levitated the parcel containing her engagement band beneath the bed. I saw her smile quietly for herself before I began to brush my teeth.

This was where I belonged now.

Author's Note

A little more sober this time around, but it's probably about time. This is a story that started with Spitfire waking up in the middle of the night with nightmares... Besides I've been referencing skyside for ages now and it was about time that Chekov's gun went off...

Anyhoodle, I hope you enjoyed the update. Good luck and have fun!