Soarin slowly woke from his slumber, first noticing the morning sun filtering through the curtains. His fond smile at the memories of the previous evening vanished when he rolled over to find the other side of the bed cold and empty.

He honestly wasn't too surprised. It was rare that Spitfire would spend the entire night, she would often slip away before dawn. She was probably back at Miramare, getting a head start on post-season paperwork. Still, Soarin was hoping they'd be able to spend the weekend together and forget about work for a couple of days, especially after revealing her worries the previous evening. He certainly knew he could do with a couple of laid back days to rest his wing.

Thinking of that Soarin languidly rolled out of bed and flexed his right wing, glad he could put it through the full range of motion without too much discomfort but after a couple of experimental flaps he knew he wouldn't be doing anything strenuous for a few days. A quick shower did wonders to properly wake Soarin up and improve his spirits for the day.

As he stepped out of the bathroom, still attacking his mane with a towel he paused, sniffing as he noticed an enticing smell that he hadn't noticed when he first got up. He could also hear somepony moving around downstairs. He was certain the house was empty before he got in the shower.

Soarin quickly finished towelling off and made his way downstairs. He was surprised to see Spitfire in the kitchen, looking like she'd just finished a flight with a pair of saddlebags she didn't bring with her the previous evening. Although something else immediately attracted his full attention.

“You got Pie in the Sky for breakfast!” the pegasus exclaimed like an excited colt, fluttering over to the gently steaming box on the table.

Spitfire chuckled, “Good morning to you too! I woke up pretty early so decided to go for a quick flight. Thought it would be a nice treat, looks like I got back just in time too.”

“You did, I only just got up,” Soarin replied, distractedly peering at the label on the box. “Sweet Apple Acres Special! My favourite!”

Soarin stopped and scrunched his nose.

“What's the catch?” he asked cautiously.

“What're you talking about?” Spitfire was trying to be the very picture of innocence.

“You never surprise me like this unless you're trying to butter me up for something,” Soarin said, narrowing his eyes suspiciously.

Spitfire grinned, unfazed.

“When was the last time I ever did something like that?”

“Last month when you wanted help getting your sofa out so you could get it reupholstered,” Soarin deadpanned.

Spitfire facehooved. Hard. She sighed.

“OK, this wasn't how I was hoping this would go,” she muttered, unhooking her saddlebags and dumping them on a counter top. Spitfire carefully opened one of the satchels and nosed through it. She paused, suddenly uncertain, her ears laying flat.

“Hey spits, you all right?” Soarin asked, frowning. It wasn't normal for the normally brash pegasus to second guess herself.

“Yeah, I'm fine,” Spitfire assured, “this one's a bit of a biggie though. I'm really not sure how to put it, it's not something I've ever done before.”

“You're not going to dig out plans to completely redecorate your house, are you?” Soarin joked.

Spitfire looked back over her shoulder and gave Soarin a pointed look.

“Sorry,” it was Soarin's turn to be sheepish. “Whatever it is must be important.”

Spitfire's expression softened.

“It's all right. Look, it's probably easier if I just show you.”

Quickly, Spitfire dove into the bag and produced a long, narrow wooden box, clearly well crafted and lacquered to a shine.

“Wait, an imping kit? But I thought you didn't have any broken feathers?” Soarin was surprised, before he quickly realised the potential implications. “...Oh.”

Spitfire started blushing more than Soarin had ever seen and started squirming on the spot.

“I've been thinking a lot lately,” she started hesitantly. “I've been burying my head in the sand and pretending that everything will stay the same forever. But it won't and sometimes you have to make a big leap of faith instead of hoping everything will work out.

“Soarin, you've been my anchor for longer than I can remember and you're the only pony I can imagine spending my days with. Will you be my Bondmate?”

Soarin sat down heavily, his eyes wide as saucers and mouth slightly open. As he didn't say anything after a few seconds, Spitfire's hopeful expression became brittle, as if it were going to crack like porcelain any second.

“Hey, you Ok there?” she asked, tentatively.

The simple question seemed to knock the stallion out of his stupor.

“Well, if you'll settle for a worn out stallion with a creaky wing, I'm game. Of course I'll be your Bondmate!”

Soarin felt himself being bowled over as Spitfire rushed him into a bear like hug. No words needed to be said, Spitfire clinging to Soarin, burying her face into his neck with tears of joy streaming from her eyes. They stayed like this for some time, until they were interrupted by a loud rumble from Soarin's stomach.

“Huh, guess we should probably eat before those pies get really cold,” Soarin suggested.

Spitfire reluctantly pulled herself away and the pair sat down at the table for their breakfast.

****

Some time later, Soarin bought his left wing around in front of his face to examine Spitfire's work. A single golden yellow secondary had been spliced in seamlessly with the rest of his plumage, the shaft around the join wrapped with a fine gold wire and a small dab of glue. Giving a few experimental flaps, Soarin could just about tell there was something different but had to admit it was a good job.

“I told you I was good at it, didn't I?” Spitfire had one of her easy, confident smiles on her face. Soarin could just about make out a flash of blue nestled in Spitfire's wing now as well. As much as he hated to admit it, he'd been much more clumsy imping in her wing. Without a timely intervention he probably would've ended up gluing three of her feathers together in a horrible mess. Still, Spitfire didn't seem to mind- it was the thought that counts after all.

“Wonder if it'll make any difference flying?” Soarin mused.

“Well, only one way to find out,” Spitfire replied, brushing past the stallion to wards the front door. Soarin hurridly turned and moved to keep up.

“I get the feeling that today's going to be a great day,” Soarin mused as Spitfire threw open the front door to allow a ray of brilliant sunshine into the house.

“The first of many, I hope,” Spitfire replied, stepping over the threshold.

With that, the two pegasi took to the friendly skies. Neither knew what the future would hold, but they knew that they'd both be there for each other no matter what.

Author's Note

Here it is finished. My first attempt at "clop with plot".
I always wanted this resolution but actually coming to write it out turns out it's a lot, lot harder to write than I thought. My hat goes off to the other writers on the site who can pull off mushy, fluffy stuff so well!

Incidentally, if anyone's interested in what "Imping" entails, there's a handy site with good pictures here