Ardent Orange

Spitfire crashed through the storm front and let the shakes sort through her thoughts. She’d handled her weekly debrief with Princess Twilight earlier today, this morning in fact – Thorax, as well as some undisclosed special guests would be taking up the princess’ time after day court. Rainbow Dash had a few tells when something was up – not being chatty was a primary one, even if she was meant to keep anything clandestine.

She caught the contours of a cloud bank with her wing and slowed down closing in on Ponyville.

Rainbow Dash also played her cards very close to the chest for other ponies’ sake – that was another type of tell, now, at least. Some events had flown right under Spitfire’s nose until her bump up in clearance had given her a chance to read up on past bearer activities. But curt directness from Dash?

Yeah, there she went. The rainbow contrail swerved through the east side of Ponyville, right to the Crystal Castle. Spitfire fumed. The best part of her job was being a hardass to cocky rookies – the worst part was being a hardass to her friends. Even if Dash had helped her time and time again. She sighed and flew toward the castle after a minute. Eyeing it up, she closed in on the trail that had beaten her there. The heat had dispersed across the building, but an upper crystal window still weakly resonated from the powerful flight magic that had blazed through it.

Touch down, second floor. A path of doors blown ajar indicated a clear path. Spitfire looked around for any signs of a welcoming committee. Nothing happened. Yeah, security was still horrible. She settled for a brisk trot through the doorways, following the trail of dissipating flight magic through the hallway.

The tall mirror in the center caught her eye first. Stacks of machinery, gold on steel on paper on gold shined before her. New. Alright. A set of makeshift looking lockers aligning the wall to the side. Then, Rainbow, who was writing, into a book? Spitfire blinked and processed that. She cleared her throat.

“You know Sergeant, I recall Princess Twilight debriefing me in Canterlot Castle this morning. Not sure you’ve got the right place.” To her credit, Rainbow only paused for a split second to look over her should before resuming and finishing her writing. She dropped her pen on the desk.

“The hell, captain?”

“Hell, cadet?”

“It’s uh, like Tartarus.” She rubbed the back of her head. She furrowed her brow. Blinked. “What’s this about, Spit?”

Spitfire drew closer. “You feinted off towards Canterlot and swung here. Don’t play dumb.”

Rainbow Dash took in a breath before responding. She’d grown calmer over the years. Good.
“It’s still bearer business. I didn’t want to bug you with details,” Rainbow Dash frowned. “Now you.”

Spitfire shifted back from her accusatory stance. “It’s evaluations week, Dash. You’re up for promotion.”

“Yeah, and bearer work comes up when it comes up.” Rainbow went to secure a set of saddlebags out of the lockers. “And you followed me here? You off duty or something?”

“Far as I’m concerned, the field’s a fine place for evaluation.”

Rainbow Dash frowned. She flipped the last latch on the bags. “Can’t just bring you on a job because of work, Spit. Even if you’re supposed to keep an eye on me.”

Spitfire looked at Rainbow Dash head on. Yeah, cool, this was a great mistake so far. Couldn’t wait to report to the Princess of Friendship about it next week. She fidgeted, as they stared at each other for a moment. No one needed to know she really, really didn’t want to hurry back to a full shift of work after the princess made her get up three hours early.

She rubbed the back of her head. “Could you bring me as a friend?”

Rainbow Dash smiled. She looked at the mechanical tornado, and back to Spitfire. “You are cleared for Paradigm stuff, right?”

“Faithkeeper rank, actually.”

Rainbow Dash’s eyes widened. She gave a half-hearted, “well, alright” shrug and thwacked a control panel with her wing. The mirror surface rippled as the machinery came to life.

The sunglasses came down. “Am I the only damn pony who keeps their eyes tapped in for thaums?”

“The eggheads use goggles,” Rainbow pointed out with a wing, while the other finished penning an extra line into the journal. “I haven’t had to do any work on the mirror myself.” She turned to Spitfire. “So, fall in, wings closed, we’ll meet bearers on the other side.”

“Other side?”

“Yep,” Rainbow smirked. Then, more seriously. “It’ll feel like a crash, but you’ll be okay. Start with your eyes closed, balance on your back hooves and take it slow.” And then she walked right through the mirror.

Spitfire stared. A series of heavily redacted state documents were starting to click. She followed.

Everything was so muted. Spitfire could see Rainbow’s aura through her eye lids, but like it was boxed in tight near her heart. She slowly opened her eyes – the sky still hazed red with heat, but faintly, and up to a much shorter range than she was used to. She tried to flap her wings, and her back muscles flexed meaninglessly. Alarmed, she took a very deep breath.

“Yeah, welcome to Earth.” Something that looked like Rainbow Dash crossed with a diamond dog clothed in sportswear grabbed her shoulder and shook her a little. “Your wings’ll be fine.”

“Is this hell?”

Rainbow Dash barked up a laugh. “No, we’re just not on Equus any more. Earth, like I said. How’s the crash treating you?”

Spitfire ran her eyes over herself. No injuries, just differences. She recalled Dash’s pre-portal precautions and flexed. Her new body made some sense, like a tornado had thrown her into free-fall. But she was standing. “Am I some kind of, bad, dragon?”

Rainbow barely stifled a laugh. “No, we shouldn’t run into those today.” She let go of Spitfire. “Just treat your foreclaws like small wings, and you can grab onto anything. Eyes up, balance your head back, march in twos. Give me your claw.” Rainbow Dash held out her hand and waited for Spitfire to meet her halfway. She didn’t. “They call them hands, here.” She looked up at Spitfire’s hesitation.

“Rainbow Dash, you are married.”

Rainbow slumped forward, and rolled her eyes. “They’re not literally your wings Spit. Come on.” She grabbed her and started walking. “We’ll be meeting the other bearers over the next hour or so, everypon- everybody else’s schedules didn’t line up the same.” A silence filled the air as they walked.

Spitfire was faced with more questions than she knew she had time to ask. Equestria had been growing more diverse in the past decade, but this was still a whole new species evidently comfortable with motor carriages blazing past them at the speed of airships.

“Everyone’s really muted here, what’s that about?”
“Huh?”

“No magic. I can see everyone’s keeping it so boxed in.” She paused. “They’re shaped like cutie marks.”

Rainbow looked at her uncertainly. “It’s rare here. Only happens when people are intense, or emotional, and you usually need an artifact for it. You’re still casting?”

Spitfire shrugged. “I’m always intense, Dash.”

“Yeah. Okay.” Rainbow slumped and considered it for a bit. “But the artifact?” Dash looked Spitfire over. Her uniform had made the trip as a more casual military suit, emblazoned with Spitfire’s cutie mark and rank but much fewer of the badges. Her aviators shone bright with polish, but also bright with… “Spitfire. How much did you spend on your sunglasses?”

Spitfire didn’t miss a beat. “Gotta have my shades, Dash.” If she had a coffee she’d be sipping it. Gold chains and she’d be repping bits. Salt lick and she’d be getting lit.

“Fuck, you’re cool.”

“I know.”

The walk continued, leaving behind the school and suburbs for a stretch of businesses. The foot traffic died down. Heavier shade chilled out the summer sky.

“What’s with the chest teats?”

“What? I dunno, dude.”

Spitfire poked her own with her free hand.

“That’s like, sex, dude, don’t do that.”

“What?”

“I don’t fucking know dude, just don’t. It’s like grabbing your plot in public.”

“Oh. Great.”

Adagio drew herself out of her drink as the dulcet bell rang welcoming new guests. She gathered herself for a charming greeting, then blinked. It’d been years, but she hadn’t forgotten those faces. She turned stern and stared Rainbow down with a tense look. “What’ll you have?”

Unphased, Rainbow Dash ordered two Apple Family ciders. Adagio raised an eyebrow the smallest titch, calculatingly. Spitfire looked back and forth between the two quickly.

It was the kind of look you didn’t think much of if you’d been here a while. It was the kind of look you did think much of if you hadn’t been here a while. Talent agents made the same face – not all of them, just the most dangerous ones.

“Six bucks.”

Spitfire blanched. Adagio glanced at her, then at the big three hanging above her on the menu. There was a pause. Shortly, six dollar bills, and three bits were placed on the counter between Rainbow and Spitfire’s efforts. Adagio looked right at Spitfire.

“Uh. Ah.” Adagio saw the frantic wingspeak formed by the blue one’s hand for “not clear, not clear”, feigned flummoxation at the coins, glanced at the bills again and went to pour them their two ciders.

“New in town?” she tossed out.

Adagio smirked at the facepalm she could hear over filling the drinks.

They settled for a booth by the bar. “So you’ve been coming through the mirror a while?”

Rainbow sipped her drink. “Yeah. Applejack more than me.” Sip. “An Apple needed our help, a few of them really.”

“They’ve moved over here too?”

“No, they’ve always been here on this side. The magic mirror’s like, well, a magic mirror. Mirror universe and stuff. It was symbolic or some shit when Starswirl made it way back, unlocked the dimensions and everything.”

“Seriously?”

“No, I’m fucking with you,” Dash smirked into her drink. Spitfire rolled her eyes. “Fuck if I know how it works, but this world’s been around like ours is forever.” Spitfire frowned.

“Lax drinking laws, though.” She looked back at the barkeeper. The cutie mark at the heart of her aura was shattered, a ruby gem still glowing, but in sharp, uneven pieces. Was she hurt? Violent? Could marks just feel like that? This felt so much ruder than reading flight magic.

“What do you mean?”

Spitfire turned back and blinked. “She didn’t card you.”

“Huh. Yeah. I mean, I have one over here just in case.” She pointed across the table. “Military uniforms get you respect over here all the same, so lucky you.”

“Hmm.” Spitfire sipped her cider. The first breath of a buzz approached her, but in a different way from back home. She rolled her new hand-wings around the handle. “You keep saying ‘fuck’ instead of ‘buck’, am I missing something?”

A familiar, third voice joined in. “No, she’s just gotten worse over here. Potty mouth.” Applejack slid into the booth and went for Dash’s drink.

“Yeah, they don’t really ‘buck’ over here, they ‘fuck’ over here. Something about how they never kicked trees” – she looked low towards Applejack – “or, you know, got all kicky during it.” She got a curt bop on the head.

Spitfire sipped her drink. She drew it out. She narrowed her eyes at the pair. To the point of the matter, hopefully.

“So you called off work for a date with your wife?”

Rainbow let out a breath, and frowned. Spitfire let out a breath, mock sternly. Then smiled. “Just fucking with you, Dash.”

“Hah!” Applejack bumped Rainbow’s shoulder and cheered. “No, but she wishes.” Applejack passed the mug back to her and turned to Spitfire. “There was a bit of a surprise last night, and today we’re pulling a plan together with Twi. The other two will be along soon after they figure out what’s wrong with their car, and we can head out.”

“Emergencies happen,” sipped Spitfire. She looked at Dash. This would’ve been harder to grapple with in the past for sure. Ace fliers had been cut from the team plenty of times by her hoof, either for ego or lack of cooperation. And she was in charge, because she could do it, be the one thing their wings couldn’t take them past. But Dash had shown she was better than ego.

Spitfire chugged away at her drink. What she couldn’t afford to share was how stuck she was on figuring out what kind of balance to judge Rainbow by, with how often Rainbow’s casual commitments, and bearer commitments overlapped into saving Equestria. Laying all that out to Dash would be a red card on her own neutrality, and the neutrality of the observations on how Dash managed all that if Dash herself knew how it all worked. She knew Dash could handle the day to day, but not whether she’d reasonably make it to the day to day was such a headache.

“Lot of cloud gathering there, captain. Bit for your thoughts?” Rainbow retrieved her mug from her wife. Spitfire frowned, let out a breath. She turned to Applejack.

“We squabbled over it at the mirror: short of it is that ducking out of promotion evaluation periods is bad, and I followed her to see what was up.”

“Huh.” Applejack eyed her uniform. “Bit of a hardass move there, ma’am.”

“Yeah, well, it’s my job to be a hardass.” Spitfire rumbled out a heavier sigh and started clumsily rubbing her forehead with her free hand, looking at Rainbow. “When you flew your excuses by me tight-lipped, and swerved on off into a southbound thermal, towards Canterlot instead of Ponyville for -” Spitfire reflexively tried to make wing quotes – “’bearer business,’” - her stupid hand-wing things spilled her drink everywhere.

“Shit.”

She didn’t know what she was listening for any more.

They’d all figured out where the portal was, eventually. But everyone who came through seemed to be Canterlot’s best – which itself was maybe saying something about them all barely being adults – but Canterlot’s best meant the mirror was likely in Canterlot, and without magic she’d just get locked up over there, and if she got locked up that’d be terrible for her sisters, so what the fuck in Noden’s name was she even meant to do with-

Clatters and a swear erupted from the table. Adagio glanced up at the two old faces hopping up to handle the mess, and noted the dismal mood showing all over the new one’s posture. She looked back down to the mug she’d evidently been over-cleaning the hell out of. She placed it down and exhaled out a sigh, took in a breath. The new one came up to her with two empty mugs and a tenner.

“Rough day for the third wheel?”

Spitfire huffed. “Yeah, worse. I’m her boss.”

“Oh?”

Spitfire sat down and waved a hand. Adagio began refilling a mug with cider.

“Yeah.” Spitfire drummed her hands on the counter top. Thought about what to say. Wasn’t her first nosy barkeep, but sure as the winds the first bipedal one. “She’s got another job that’s been getting more important than this one, for a while now. She likes it, it’s fine, that’s fine, whatever.” She frowned. “Just a stupid time keeping the friendship and the boss stuff separate. Always has been.”

Adagio moved on to the second mug and fixed her eyes on Spitfire. Nudged up an eyebrow.

Play the cards, play the stupid cards. Relate to her. Find her vulnerabilities. Snatch her secrets up. Fuck.

The deluge of the prior phone call and her head sprinting in circles all washed over the hunt. She abandoned her ladylike posture and slumped, just enough. Two eyebrows raised from behind the sunglasses. Adagio smiled.

Her classic house of con cards came tumbling down. Someone sharper to play with. Better prey were more fun to chase.

“Been there before. Lately too. Know how you feel.” She set the mug down in front of Spitfire, started to embellish. Like usual. Right? “People I look after being happy, satisfied. Not getting that looking out for them -” oh, she was quavering a little, that would really sell it, great – “doesn’t switch off when you want it to.” She swallowed something back.

Spitfire grabbed the mugs. “Spitfire.” Adagio looked at her, raised an eyebrow. Spitfire pointed at herself. Nodded, too. Her tension fell away.

“Adagio.” The breath came out more relieved than she expected. She looked back at the booth. Yeah. No, those weren’t the Rainbooms. Mirrors from back home, like the damn princess. The anger would show on her face soon – move. “Can I get you anything else?” She noticed that she just, didn’t want to play it up like she usually did.

“I need something darker, yeah. Just, ah.” Spitfire looked at the menu. Barkeep was not doing hot. Yeah. Yeah. Wow. She recognized nothing on the menu. “A dark beer. Whatever.” Blew out a chuckle.

Adagio went for another mug. “Germane Stout’s pretty good. For a beer.” She glanced down at the ten. “You’re short, though.”

Spitfire paused, tilted her head a titch, grinned. “Have I mentioned that your mane looks lovely today?”

Oh. Oh no, they both thought. One, in deep concern, for realizing she’d just played the cool mare instead of asking Rainbow for more money. The other, with glee, for realizing Spitfire had just played the cool mare instead of asking her friend for more money. She grinned back.

“That usually enough to get you a free drink, hun?”

The sunglasses came off. Orange eyes met amethyst.

“The unrelenting charm usually helps.”

A lesser lady may have swooned off the extra dollar Spitfire owed her. Adagio kept playing. This was incredible.

“Mm hmm. Can’t say I’m in short supply of that myself.” Adagio leaned down to eye level with Spitfire, resting one arm along the counter, the other propping up her face with a lean into her hand. “Got anything else?”

“Flying. Lessons?” Spitfire’s smile was breaking.

“Spitfire.”

“Yesssss?”

Adagio smiled, ever, so, demurely. It would have come out eventually anyway.

“Just give me the bits.”