Storm in a Teacup

A few civilians would pass through every minute or two. I scanned each of them with my eyes as they went, making sure none of them were a threat. They almost never were.

About the most eventful thing that had happened was when I'd turned away a drunken Earth pony who was convinced he had to make a wedding proposal to Luna that afternoon. A fool's errand. Not just because Luna was asleep, but also because she was already engaged.

Guarding the gate of Canterlot Castle was not an exciting job. It already bummed me out to be a part of the Royal Guard, but this was beyond miserable. Out of all the Royal Guard positions, it was possibly the worst. I knew I was better than a glorified babysitter, but it was common that they assigned new recruits to the shitty tasks.

Princess Twilight Sparkle approached the gate, smiling as she chattered away with the six friends we'd become accustomed to seeing at her side. I nodded to the princess as she passed the gate. "Good afternoon, Princess Twilight!"

She paused, turning to me briefly. "It's okay, Sleet Storm. You can just call me Twilight!" I rolled my eyes at the Princess as her entourage of friends passed by. Even if I wanted to, protocol dictated that I always address anypony by their title, if they had one. I'm sure she was aware of that, too, given her brother's position as the former Captain of my unit. However, I wasn't confident that she'd come to defend me if somepony reported it—a princess had far more pressing matters to deal with—so I stuck to protocol.

"Hey, Stormy," my partner called. I jerked my head over to Flash Freeze, who stood on the other side of the gate. He glanced around surreptitiously to make sure everypony was gone before whispering harshly, "Do you think I have a chance with her?"

"With who?" I hissed back.

"You know..." he said, more loudly, gesturing toward the interior of the castle. "Her!"

"Princess Twilight?" I wondered.

He nodded. "Yeah!"

The mare who was only ever seen hanging around her marefriends? I was absolutely certain the princess was 'in lesbians' with one of them, though I could never be certain which one, and my gaydar wasn't exactly accurate. Still, as guards in Canterlot, we saw a lot more of the princesses than most, and I hadn't ever seen Twilight spend any appreciable time with a stallion. "I doubt it."

He frowned. "Yeah, probably not." Instantaneously rebounding, he smiled widely. "It's fun to think about, though."

The princess was pretty hot. Thinking about being with her? After a moment of pondering, yeah, I didn't blame him one bit. All the benefits of dating a pegasus and a unicorn all at once? That was kinky. Not to mention the royalty thing. If I was single and, well, not in the Guard, I'd probably fantasize about that a bit myself. But long before Princess Twilight was coronated, her brother had been the Captain of the Guard and scored himself Princess Cadance (another mare I wouldn't mind a go at), so maybe it wasn't impossible.

"But, y'know, never say never," I added, smiling. "Good luck. You'll need it."

"Excuse me!" A pony cleared his throat, causing me to jump. I looked over to see a stern-faced unicorn with a white coat and a blonde mane. He was well-dressed and haughty-looking. "Don't you have a job to be doing?"

"I beg your pardon, sir," I replied, standing up straight.

"Sir?" he repeated, clearly annoyed. "Do you even know who I am?"

I looked him up and down, and shook my head. "No, sir."

He scoffed. "I'll have you know that I am Prince Blueblood, the highest ranking noblepony in Canterlot!" With a huff, he stomped past me, not even sparing me a second glance. "What kind of operation is auntie running that her guards cannot show the proper respect?" he audibly complained.

One of his entourage mouthed an apology to me as they passed, and they disappeared into the castle proper. "I'll have you disciplined for this," his voice floated back to us, almost as if it was an afterthought.

"What the fuck is his problem?" I grumbled as soon as they were clearly out of earshot. I knew the minor infraction of calling a Prince 'Sir' would probably come back with some menial labor to 'help me remember my duties'. Of course, I did not know who he was before he arrived, so who could blame me? He looked just like any other snooty Canterlot upper-class stallion.

Flash waved at me, a huge, doofy smile on his face. "Hey, Stormy?" he said, just loud enough I could hear him. "He's a Prince, right? Do you think you have a chance with him?"

I glared at him.

He laughed.

The next day, a mare and her husband approached Canterlot Castle with a photograph held in her wings. Unlike most ponies, who simply went straight inside and ignored Flash Freeze and me, they instead trotted right up to me. Why did they ignore Flash? Probably assuming that, as a mare, I would be more helpful. Were they being sexist? Or was I just lashing out at institutionalized sexism and misattributing things? To be honest, I didn't care that much, but Foggy always pondered these things and over the years she'd rubbed off on me.

"Have you seen our son?" the mare said, holding the photo out to me.

I peered down at the photo and cringed. It was Starfeather, the stallion who was outed as a colt-cuddler. "I haven't seen him since the first few days of boot camp, miss," I replied nervously. I wanted to tell them more, but it was all rumors and hearsay, and I didn't want to crush their spirits needlessly.

The poor mare's ears drooped. "I was afraid of that," the stallion said. "Star ran away from home to enlist after we..." he stopped. "Well, I hardly need to bother you with our family affairs."

Just from his expression, I could infer too much about them already. Their guilty-but-unapologetic nature was plain as day—they didn't want to ruin their relationship with their son, but couldn't accept him as gay. It was just like the false attempts my own parents had made to get back into my good graces.

I hoped I was wrong about them, but, as much as I suddenly found myself not liking the two ponies, it genuinely concerned me that they didn't even know where their son was. If he had been locked in prison, wouldn't his family at least have been informed? I glanced around. Nopony else was around except for Flash...

I suddenly had a lot of questions that I wanted answers to, and I was going to go searching for them as soon as I had the chance. "Tell you what," I whispered to her. "Let me take your contact information, and I'll do some digging. It's a slim chance, but maybe I'll see if I can't find out where he went when he left boot camp."

"Oh, thank you!" the mare shouted, hugging me. I tolerated it for a moment, and then pulled out a notebook we were supposed to use to take notes on minor incidents. I copied down her address, and then gently pushed her away and bid her a good day.

On the east side of Canterlot Castle was a massive cloud arena, where the Wonderbolts perform, uncreatively called Wonderbolt Arena. At the far end of the cloud-built arena stood a stone-built structure about the size of a large restaurant: Wonderbolts HQ. The exterior of it was garishly decorated in the same blue-and-yellow of the Wonderbolts' uniforms, with a couple of windows from which merchandise, food, and drinks were sold during events.

The interior of the structure contained, among other things, the Wonderbolts locker room. A revolting smell of stale sweat assailed my nostrils as I pushed the door to the locker room open, dragging a mop and bucket behind me. Nopony was in sight, but I could hear water running from the direction of the showers, so I assumed I wasn't alone.

A row of lockers ran down either wall of the long room, while a bench ran down the center. A small office was in the back, opposite the entrance to an open shower area. I took off my saddlebags and set them on the bench, as they would only impede my cleaning. A pair of acrobatic flight uniforms lay draped across the other end of bench, as well as a couple of folded towels stacked neatly next to them, presumably waiting for whoever was in the showers.

It must have been quite the shower, too, as the steam coming from the back there was dense, making it impossible to even see the tile on the back wall. Whoever was in there liked their showers hot.

However, I wasn't here to shower, nor to socialize. Right on the heels of asking Captain Silver Lining about Starfeather, he informed me that Prince Blueblood had made good on his word, and now I had to do some rudimentary janitorial work to make up for my slip in protocol.

It wasn't a particularly hard task, but I fucking hated cleaning, and the Captain was well aware of that fact. He had been rather evasive about my questions, too. I would have to ask around more later, but for now, I needed to start mopping the floor.

Mopping, as it happens to be, is a mindless task. But that wasn't the only thing I'd need to do to finish cleaning up. As I reached the lockers, I pulled out a cloth and hovered up to wipe down the top of the lockers—something I knew I would get nailed to the wall for if I didn't remember to do. They were filthy, of course, and the cloth just got dirtier and dirtier as I went.

I dipped the cloth into the mop bucket and wrung it out again before resuming my work on top of the lockers. I cast a glance at the dirty mop water, which had gathered a significant amount of grime from the grout in the tiles. Then I looked back at the rag on my hooves.

Gross.

At this rate, the mopping would be counterproductive when I returned to it. What's the point in dumping dirty water on the floor and picking it up again? It would just cost me more time and make the finished product look terrible. And I didn't want to risk doing a lousy job and end up having to do it a second time. Even if it meant taking extra time now, I decided it would be worth the effort to dump the filthy water and get clean water again.

But I also didn't feel like lugging the mop bucket all that way to the janitor's closet at the other end of the building just to lug it right back. After all, the shower was right there. It would fill rather slowly from a showerhead, but it was more appealing than the alternative.

As I approached the showers, thick steam obscured my vision, billowing up from a half-dozen showerheads spewing scalding hot water. With so many showerheads running, I questioned if anypony was actually in there or if it had been some kind of prank as I stood at the edge of the shower and turned the mop bucket over—on the shower tile, of course, so any loose dirt would get washed down the drain that separated the showers from the rest of the locker room.

It didn't take long for the dirty mop water to run down the drain with the amount of water flowing from elsewhere in the showers. Was a drain clogged somewhere? Not my problem if it was; I was here as a janitor, not a plumber.

The roar of water pouring onto the tile was shockingly loud, yet beneath all of it, I heard something. Somepony was definitely in there. At first I thought it was somepony's soft singing, but it was hard to make out over the noise.

My heart leaped into my throat as I realized that whoever was in the shower was probably one of the Wonderbolts. Like so many other military-hopeful pegasi, the Wonderbolts were a huge inspiration to me. Their spectacular displays practically sold entire generations of young ponies into military service. And right now, I had an opportunity to meet one of them personally!

If I was lucky, I might catch a glimpse or even a quick chat as I waited for the bucket to fill. I steeled my nerves for the heat and stepped into the nearly scalding water. I flinched as the water soaked into my fur. It was barely tolerable! How could anypony want to shower in this?

I passed a divider between shower stalls. Nopony was in the stall, so I rolled the mop bucket into the stall, allowing it to fill from the showerhead. As I turned I was greeted by the sight of two ponies tucked into the corner of the stall across from me. Two very female ponies. Doing very lesbian things. I gasped in surprise.

Spitfire and Fleetfoot. I knew them instantaneously: Spitfire was the Captain of the Wonderbolts, and Fleetfoot was the most senior member of the squad. Nearly anypony who knew anything about the Wonderbolts would recognize them immediately. And here they were in front of me, dyking out.

Spitfire had noticed me already, her orange eyes glaring at me angrily while Fleetfoot, either not noticing or not caring that I was there, continued madly eating Spitfire out. My concern about the 'no-homo' policy suddenly reared its ugly head as I realized the Wonderbolts were also under military jurisdiction.

"It's okay!" I blurted helpfully. "I'm a lesbian, too. Your secret is safe with me."

"Shut it, newbie," Spitfire spat, tapping Fleetfoot on the back of the head. Fleetfoot rolled to the side, allowing Spitfire to stand up. Keeping her gaze level, Spitfire approached me and got right up into my face, snout-to-snout. "You really think I can just trust your word like that?" she growled.

Her fierceness might have intimidated most ponies, but I would not let her intimidate me. "Yes, I do."

Spitfire looked me over for a few moments. "Well, you're kinda cute, I guess," she said, and then nodded to Fleetfoot. "If you're really a lesbian, prove it."

"C'mere, sister." Fleetfoot said, helpfully laying back and spread her legs for me. She used her hooves to emphasize the presentation. With their similar color palettes, for a moment, all I could imagine was Foggy doing the same gesture. A Wonderbolt wanted me to go down on her? How I wished in that moment I was single, but I knew Foggy would never be okay with it.

"I'm sorry, but I'm taken," I said, shaking my head. "And please don't call me sister. My name is Stormy." Then, an idea struck me. "Hold on!" I left the showers, and both of the mares tailed me closely.

I rummaged through my saddlebags and pulled out picture that I kept hidden away in a side pouch—my favorite picture from our date in Las Pegasus where Foggy and I shared a deep kiss, with tongue, just as a passing voyeuristic photographer had snapped a photo. He promised us a copy of the photo if we'd just let him keep one for himself. We'd hesitantly obliged and, at Foggy's insistence, I didn't beat the shit out of him.

Why did I keep this photo with me all the time? It might be helpful in the immediate moment, but it was a dangerous thing to keep around in my current occupation. But every time I looked at it, Foggy's sparkling happiness practically oozed from the photo. It cheered my up when my day was less-than-stellar. And I would risk anything for her happiness.

"See?" I said, holding the photo out for Spitfire. "This is me and my marefriend."

Fleetfoot stayed a few feet away, seemingly disinterested in the photo, but Spitfire leaned in close, scrutinizing the picture. She was close enough that I could feel her warm breath on my hoof.

"May I?" she asked, placing her hoof on the photo.

I nodded hesitantly, uncertain what she would do with the photo. She took the photo from me and gently placed it on the bench, before turning around and grabbing my foreleg. Before I even knew what was going on, she pulled me in and kissed me full on the lips. Her tongue prodded and poked at my lips and teeth, seeking a way in, but I refused to let her. Once I recovered from the shock, I shoved her off of me.

"Excuse me?!" I yelled. "What the fuck?"

The faintest hint of a smile crossed Spitfire's lips. "You're cute when you're angry." Fleetfoot handed her the photo, and she passed it back to me. "She's cute, too. You're both lucky mares."

I didn't quite know what to make of the unwelcomed kiss. It had shocked me, that was for sure. Part of me was flattered a mare like her was interested, but I really... really couldn't let myself entertain that thought. Instead, I forced myself to smile back. "Thanks."

Spitfire's expression soured as she once again fixated her stare upon me. "Just remember, what happens in the locker room stays in the locker room." She nodded her head toward the showers.

I understood her meaning immediately: Tell no one what I'd seen here. "Yeah. Your secret is safe with me."

The two Wonderbolts finished drying themselves off, towelled up their manes and tails, and then left me alone to finish my job in isolation. As they left, Spitfire stopped in the doorway. "You and your marefriend are quite attractive." She winked at me before departing. As the door closed behind her, I heard her calling back to me. "You'll be mine someday, Stormy. You'll see."

I didn't respond. Instead, when I finished my work, I put on my saddlebags, put away all the cleaning supplies, and headed back home.

My long, but weirdly eventful day was finally at an end.

My tail was bothering me. I tried flicking it this way and that, but it was coming up on 'that time' of the year and I wanted nothing more than to meet up with Foggy and wrestle my urges away. Flash Freeze, typical stallion that he was, wasn't oblivious to my dancing tail, either. He looked over at me, tilting his head questioningly.

"This armor itches," I replied preemptively.

"How's that different from any other day?"

"It's not," I groused. "I'm just cranky." And anxious, though I wasn't willing to divulge those details.

Everything about this deployment sucked. There was nothing glamorous about guarding Canterlot Castle. Nothing ever happened. Nopony ever did anything interesting. I'd been posted here for six months, and the most exciting thing that ever happened was a drunken young stallion trying to bring firecrackers into the castle during the Summer Sun Celebration.

And now, on top of all of that, my saddlebags had gone missing the day before. When I found them again—mysteriously placed back in my locker—the picture of Foggy and me had gone missing from its spot.

Somepony must have leverage over me, and I had no way of knowing who, though I did have two very prominent suspects. It had been almost a day since the photo had disappeared, and nothing came of it yet, but there was simply no way that the picture could have accidentally fallen out. It had to have been removed deliberately.

"Picture-perfect day, isn't it?" Flash said, raising his hoof to gesture out at the scenery. I flinched involuntarily at the word 'picture'. Anxiety could be so exhausting. Still, he was right, and the day was nearly perfect. Not a cloud in the sky to hinder the view. Like literally every day in the Capital of the Sun.

From the castle gate, you could see out over the city of Canterlot, with all of its architectural uniqueness: spires, arches, roads, the hustle and bustle of ponies going about their business below. Then, beyond the city, the world fell hundreds of yards down to the ground below. Off in the distance, you could see forests, plains, and rivers, and—if you looked far enough—the broad expanse of the ocean beyond.

It was likely a breathtaking view by other ponies' standards, but I was a pegasus. Pegasi weren't generally known to appreciate such grand vistas, but they tend to lose their sense of wonder and scale when you see them daily simply by flying around.

"Yeah, just peachy," I grumbled.

As far as I could make out, Starfeather had simply disappeared. Nopony would or could tell me anything. The one pony who was publicly outed as gay disappeared without a trace? That only elevated my anxieties about being caught out as lesbian. I was even considering resigning from the Guard and finding something else to do with my life, but Foggy had insisted that I couldn't abandon my dream so easily.

Flash stuck his spear into the ground and placed his hooves over the end of the shaft, leaning into it in a gross violation of protocol. "Alright, Storm, out with it. What's eatin' you?"

Damnit, he'd noticed. I couldn't tell him I thought two lesbian Wonderbolts had possibly gotten into my bag to steal a photo of myself being a lesbian. "Nothing," I lied.

"Nope, we've been here together too long. You're not yourself today."

He was lucky I considered him a friend at this point, or I might have thought him an arrogant bastard. "Okay, fine, it's just a female problem," I replied, hoping that would get him off my back.

He laughed. That twit laughed. "Ah, well, it is that time of year, isn't it? Still not a stallion to take care of you, is there?" He stood up straight and pulled the spear from the ground, wiping off the pointed end against his own coat.

"No," I growled. What was his deal? Was he trying to—

His hoof raised dismissively. "You're not my type."

"Good," I snapped.

He seemed to take the hint that I wasn't discussing my problems and went back to his usual position. But my infernal mare's curiosity meant now I had to know...

"... What, uh... What is your type, anyway?" I knew it was a dangerous question: he might think I was trying to lead him on, or that I was hopeful I could match his wants and desires, but honestly, my curiosity was piqued. We'd been here together for so long, but he'd never once mentioned a marefriend, and apart from his slightly crass comments about Princess Twilight, he hadn't shown interest in one, either. That the discussion would distract me from the missing photograph I couldn't do anything about right now was just a bonus.

"Hah," he trumpeted a laugh. "My type? Let's see... I don't really know. The Princesses are all pretty hot, but I think most of Equestria would agree with me on that, so that's not exactly unique."

No argument there; for all that I loved her, I would cheat on Foggy without a second thought if it meant I had a chance to get between Luna's thighs. And she would probably even forgive me for it. "Right," I agreed.

"But you know, Princess Twilight's friend? Rainbow Dash, the one who joined the Wonderbolts? I wouldn't mind a gal like her."

By all accounts, Rainbow was a total tomboy... And yet I wasn't his type? Was I really so unlike a Wonderbolt? Was that why I was assigned this post? My confidence in my own abilities faltered as I pondered the implications.

My expression must have given away my internal conflict as Flash scrambled to placate me. "But you are pretty!" he argued. "I'm sure there would be plenty of stallions who can help you out with your... uh..."

I glared at him. Was he really going to just say it?

He blushed and turned away. "Sorry."

I couldn't stay mad at him for long. He really had meant no wrong by it. And I kinda had led the conversation in that direction, even if I hadn't really meant to. Things had mostly gone back to normal after that, and the shift had ended relatively uneventfully—which is to say, it was boring.

My helmet was off before I even walked into the barracks, shaking out my mane and letting my scalp breathe for the first time since I'd put it on that morning. There was nothing more relieving than taking it off at the end of a long shift.

Captain Silver Lining was standing next to my locker, beaming widely. I frowned, knowing I wasn't supposed to remove any part of my uniform before I was in the barracks proper. He seemed almost excited to see me without it, and my anxiety skyrocketed as I wondered if he was excited to punish me for it.

"There you are!" he chirped. "I have good news!" He was almost never so cheerful. Something was up.

"Hello, Captain," I said, performing a proper salute. "What news?"

"Two of the Wonderbolt Reserves were injured today in an aerial maneuver gone awry, and they will be out for an extended period. They need to have a healthy team of backups for their major performances. Captain Spitfire specifically asked for you to come and do a try-out this evening, if you're interested."

I was being asked to try out... for the Wonderbolts Reserves? Captain Spitfire was probably doing this as thanks for keeping her secret. Or maybe to make another pass at me. I could handle her flirting with me if I had to! I was being given a chance to take the ultimate career move. This wasn't something I could pass up, and it wasn't like I needed to reciprocate. Foggy would understand that much: it would be far from the first or last time that another mare gets chatty with me.

"That would be great!" I blurted. "Where do I report?"

"I figured you would be excited about this opportunity. I was told you should report to the Wonderbolts locker room and wait there. I passed along your measurements from bootcamp so they could get a flight suit ready for you—I hope you don't mind."

In any other circumstance, I'd probably be livid that my measurements were shared without consent, but... I'd be getting my own Wonderbolts uniform immediately? I couldn't imagine anything better. "No, that's cool," I said, trying to pass it off as a non-issue.

"That's great. I wish you luck!" And the Captain left.

"Damn, Stormy..." Flash said, already halfway through removing his armor. "That's one hell of an opportunity. I really want to know how that one pans out. Might be losing my partner."

"I'll let you know how it goes tomorrow," I said cheerfully.