Fire & Rain

Chapters

Must Come Down
The Sandwich Made Her Do It!
Pop A Wingie
Rainbow the Weather Mare
When the Boss is Away...
A Night to Remember
Cause & Effect
Allons-y
Casablanca
The Wonderbolt and the Weather Manager
Hurt So Good
Scruples
Hypothetically Speaking...
Contingency Planning
Catch-22
Contingency Planning (Part II)
Bad Seeds (Part I)
Bad Seeds (Part II)
Some Turbulence Detected
Friendly Advice
Promises to Keep
Culinary Misadventure
Pillow Talk
Feathers of Blue and Gold
Teammates
Concerning Rainbooms
Fleetfoot
Skyfall
BONUS ROUND: Rapid(fire) Eye Movement
Nothing Else Matters
Flying High...
Falling Hard
The Breaking Clouds
The Worst Day Since Yesterday
Bifrost
Clear Skies
Fire & Rain [Reprise]
BONUS ROUND 2: Bad Seeds EP
What Goes Up...
Fire & Rain
Rainbow the Boss Lady (Part Deux)
Feathers in the Breeze
And So It Goes

Must Come Down

Sleep came in small intervals for Spitfire that night. Part of the problem was her lifelong habit of sleeping on her right side, a position made quite impossible by her injured wing. Complicating that particular irritation was the cloth bandage that secured the wing folded against her side. She was a world-class aerial acrobat. Having a wing immobilized was akin to sealing the magic in a unicorn’s horn or trapping an earth pony’s legs in a plaster cast. Spitfire’s wings were her pride and glory. To say that being unable to flex one of them freely was a disconcerting sensation was more than a mild understatement. The few times she did manage to fall asleep, she often woke up from the sharp pain of rolling onto her injured wing.

Further complicating matters was the mattress itself. Spitfire was used to terrestrial mattresses. Any pegasus that spent more than a weekend on the ground learned quickly to tolerate them. What she wasn’t used to was an earth pony hospital bed. No position seemed to alleviate the dull ache in her back caused by the cheap bedding which Spitfire quickly became convinced was a thinly padded sheet of rock. By the time dawn crested over the horizon, she had managed a somewhat tolerable position on her stomach that yielded a solid few hours of sleep. All too soon however, she was roused from sleep again, this time by an expectant Dr. Bay and a decidedly uncomfortable looking Soarin' and Rapidfire.

“Gooood morning, Spitfire!” Bay greeted cheerfully.

“Ugh, not until I’ve had some coffee,” Spitfire groaned as she sat up, the remark earning an amused chuckle from Bay.

“Well, I’ll just give you a once-over and if everything looks good, then we’ll get your discharge papers all set and send you on your way.” He offered her a pleasant smile.

“Let’s get this over with,” she replied before yawning.

Dr. Bay kicked Rapidfire and Soarin' out of the room until he finished his assessment. Once he was satisfied that Spitfire’s only lingering problem was a wing injury and catastrophic bruising of the ego, he excused himself to arrange her release and allowed Soarin' and Rapidfire back into the room.

“Have fun?” Rapidfire teased playfully.

Spitfire rolled her eyes. “Oh yeah, it was a party to end all parties in here. There was cider, salt, and the hottest flanks in Equestria dancing on the end table.” Spitfire answered in the most deadpan manner she could manage, “Celestia herself provided the dancers and salt tablets.”

Soarin' groaned and pressed his hoof to his forehead while Rapidfire did his best to restrain a giggle.

“Say, since Celestia controls the sun, would that mean she’s got the hot-mpff!” Rapidfire found himself silenced by Soarin’s hoof jammed into his muzzle.

“Finish that pun and I swear I will end you,” the exasperated stallion sighed. Rapidfire gave his best pleading look to an equally unenthused Spitfire.

“Don’t look at me,” she shrugged. “I’m wounded and helpless to do anything,” she said in the meekest voice she could manage, batting her eyelashes and quivering her bottom lip. Soarin' burst out laughing, his hoof abandoning Rapidfire’s muzzle.

“You are totally proof that evil twins are real,” he groused. Spitfire stuck her tongue out at him before giggling.

“So,” she started as she stood and stretched, “what brings you two so early?” Spitfire hoped her anxiety wasn’t too obvious to them. Rapidfire opened his mouth to speak, though Soarin' cut him off as he prostrated himself in front of Spitfire

“I’m so sorry boss,” he apologized profusely. “It’s all my fault!”

Spitfire blushed lightly, reaching down and pulling the stallion back to his hooves.

“It’s not your fault, Soarin'. I messed it up all on my own,” she reassured him.

“It was my job to be your safety if something went wrong,” Soarin' reminded her, his ears flat and eyes still downcast. “I wasn’t paying enough attention and you took the fall for it.”

Spitfire sighed before pulling her friend into a hug. “Soarin', you did nothing wrong. It’s all on me, ok? Don’t pull your pin feathers out over this.”

The stallion eventually nodded, his emerald eyes remaining focused on the floor. Spitfire gave him a chaste kiss on the cheek. Soarin' was possibly the most soft-hearted stallion she had ever known.

“Come on, Marshmallow,” she said, earning a huge blush from Soarin' and a muffled snicker from Rapidfire, “keep your chin up and your eyes on the sky. I’ll be back before you know it.”

Soarin' mumbled something indistinguishable as he nodded and retreated from Spitfire. He paused long enough to notice Rapidfire, who was struggling not to burst out laughing.

“Don’t you do it…” he warned Rapidfire. The ginger stallion’s expression degraded the more he struggled not to laugh “Rapid, don’t you dare…” Soarin' warned again.

“Sure thing…” Rapid’s voice cracked as a giggle nearly escaped him “…Marshmallow!” he cried as he burst out laughing. Soarin' pressed his hoof to his forehead and contemplated all the possible ways he could think of for revenge.

“I hate you…” he grumbled, “so much.”

“Love you too … Mallow,” Rapid retorted, trying desperately to quell his laughter.

Soarin’s irritable glare shifted to Spitfire, who quickly averted her gaze and whistled innocently. When she realized he wasn’t planning on letting her off the hook for what was guaranteed to be hours of locker room teasing, she held up her hooves in surrender.

“Okay, okay, I’ll make it up to you. Promise!” she assured him, crossing her heart.

He shook his head and grumbled, his response cut off by a knock on the door. Rapidfire squawked indignantly as Spitfire gave him a mild kick to compose himself.

An exceptionally bored looking earth pony mare trotted in, a set of saddlebags on her back that contained various folders and clipboards. She quirked an eyebrow at the two stallions before shifting her attention back to Spitfire.

“Ms. Spitfire, I’m here to give you your discharge instructions. I assume you’ve got a place to stay and one of these stallions is family or your spouse?” she asked before retrieving Spitfire’s file from one of her bags.

“Rapid’s my brother; Soarin's a coworker,” she answered.

The mare nodded, only half-listening. “Very good. You’re to keep from flying for no less than four weeks, after which you should get an appointment with an orthopedist to reassess your wing. From there, he or she will refer you to a physical therapist, who will be able to give you further instructions. Dr. Bay has included a note for your employer to excuse any absences due to your injury; it’s at the back of the file.” She explained the situation with the efficiency of a mare that had spent years memorizing her job. “Unless you have any questions, you can just sign the top form and you’ll be free to go.”

“No questions; thanks though,” Spitfire replied, taking the file she was presented with and promptly signing the necessary area.

“Very well,” the mare said, taking the hospital’s copy of the form and leaving Spitfire’s copy on top of her instructions. “And you’re free to go! Have a good day.” She smiled and bowed slightly before leaving the room.

Spitfire’s eyes followed the mare out of the room, waiting until well after she was out of sight before sighing and turning to Soarin' and Rapidfire.

“So, did one of you bring my saddlebags? I’d like some coffee and a good breakfast before Arcus tans my hide,” she said with a grin. Rapid nodded and retrieved the bags from the corner he’d set them in.

“Um, Spitfire?” Soarin' started, his body language adopting an uncomfortable posture. “Arcus is waiting outside.”

Spitfire’s heart skipped a beat and her eyes went wide. It was rare that she found herself completely lacking words to describe the emotions she felt. Usually a string of creative curses would do in the more complicated instances, yet even that solution seemed incapable of covering it.

“R-Rapid?” She turned to her brother. “D-didn’t you talk to him?”

“Whoa, hey!” He took her by the shoulders and offered a reassuring smile “It’s alright, sis. Arcus took it pretty well. You’re not gonna be fired or suspended or anything! He just wanted to talk to you to figure out the best way to proceed.”

“Then why is Arcus waiting outside, instead of being here with you two?” she asked worriedly.

This time it was Rapidfire’s turn to look uncomfortable.

Soarin’ cleared his throat as he stepped forward to answer. “Red Top got a tip that a Wonderbolt ended up in the hospital sometime yesterday; he’s been sniffing around ever since. Arcus wanted to keep an eye out for him, just in case he decides to sneak a camera in.”

Spitfire groaned in irritation. Red Top owned the most popular gossip tabloid in Manehattan. The stories his paper published vacillated between annoying but harmless details on private lives of celebrities and political figures, to borderline slanderous ‘exposes’.

“You see that article they did on that DJ?” Rapid asked while Spitfire slung on her saddlebags, careful of her injured wing.

“I don’t read that junk,” she answered curtly.

“I saw the cover,” Soarin' spoke up. “Made me sick to my stomach.”

“Aww, poor Mallow,” Rapidfire mockingly grinned.

“I really hate you,” Soarin' glowered at Rapidfire.

“Ok kids,” Spitfire interrupted, “let’s get out of here; you two can flirt later.” She trotted out the door, very intentionally ignoring the indignant noises the two stallions made at the suggestion.

She hated hospitals: she hated the smell, hated the temperature, hated the atmosphere, hated the colors, and she wasn’t terribly fond of the needles either. Spitfire was happy to get out, even if she wasn’t able to take a flying leap out of the nearest window and make straight for Cloudsdale. Soarin' and Rapidfire took up their positions beside her quickly enough, each blushing a noticeable shade of red; Spitfire grinned openly at that.

Once outside, it only took her a moment to spot Arcus. The aging stallion’s brown coat and greying mane beguiled most into assuming him to be a fairly-harmless stallion. In truth, he was one of the most cunning ponies Spitfire had ever met. Most of the time it meant her team got whatever they needed whenever they needed it. Sometimes it meant Arcus had to exercise his power as team manager to stop problems before they escalated. Spitfire could only hope that she never fell into Arcus’ ‘problem’ file. Though, in fairness, she had certainly tap-danced on its rain-slicked precipice more than a few times. Her posture stiffened as he spotted her and waved her over, his eyes scanning the area cautiously.

“Hey Arcus.” She kept her voice as polite and carefree as she could manage. “How’s it going?”

“Keep your eyes open for a red unicorn,” he stated. “I’ve been dodging Red Top since yesterday.”

“Um, alright,” she answered. Soarin' and Rapidfire each faced a different direction.

“As to your question, it was going splendidly... until the team captain went and crippled herself in a spectacular fashion.” He leveled an annoyed look at her. “Good job on that by the way.”

“If it’s worth doing, it’s worth doing right,” Spitfire countered, earning a smirk from Arcus.

“Touché. What’s the damage report?” he asked with a flat voice. Spitfire bit back a frown and hoofed over the files the discharge pony had given her. Arcus took them in his hoof and read through the papers, his face a well-practiced mask of neutrality. Spitfire forced herself not to fidget like a teenage filly applying for her first job, though there wasn’t much she could do to prevent a nervous sweat from breaking out over her body. After several minutes of silence, Arcus sighed and closed the folder.

“I’m not gonna sugar coat this, Captain,” Arcus started grimly. “You haven’t given me much room for flexibility.”

Spitfire felt her throat tighten and both Soarin' and Rapidfire subtly turned to observe the conversation, both stallions’ concern written plainly on their faces.

“Effective immediately, you’re relieved of duty as captain and placed on medical leave. After you’ve been cleared for flight by at least two physicians of my choosing, a physical therapist, and the team medical staff, we can reassess your status.” He returned the folder to her, which she numbly accepted. “I’ll see to it you can remain in the hotel suite we booked here in Manehattan until you’re back up to speed. You will receive a monthly stipend in lieu of your standard pay.” He sighed and ran a hoof through his mane. Spitfire stared dejectedly at the ground, her ears flattened against her head.

“Wait, why does she have to stay here?” Rapidfire interrupted, earning a glare from Arcus. “Surely Cloudsdale has better doctors for wing injuries!”

“Cloudsdale does,” Arcus agreed. “Unfortunately, your sister can’t use her wing for the next month, and Cloudsdale isn’t built for long strolls.”

Rapidfire’s response died on his lips as Spitfire held up a hoof for him to stop.

Spitfire’s eyes stared vacantly at the ground and her shoulders sagged slightly. “I understand, sir,” she stated, her voice quiet and dejected.

“We’ll be based in Manehattan for a while,” Arcus continued. “You are, of course, still welcome to visit the team anytime.”

Spitfire nodded again.

“Soarin'.” Arcus turned his attention to the light-blue stallion. “Effective immediately, you’re acting captain until further notice. You are free to pick your lieutenant from any of the active team roster. Your first task is informing the rest of the team about the changes.” Arcus paused to regard the other stallion. “Rapidfire, I expect you there as well.”

“But…” Soarin started, stopping when Spitfire looked him in the eye and shook her head lightly. He sighed as he relented: “Yes sir.”

Arcus retrieved a small bag of bits from his saddlebag, which he offered to Spitfire. The despondent mare regarded the gesture with a confused look.

“I want you to take today for yourself—get a meal, go shopping, see a movie, whatever you need to do. Just keep away from the media and keep your nose clean,” he warned. “If Red Top or another media pony publishes an expose it could risk alienating our sponsors, and if that happens, I won’t be able to protect you.”

“Yes sir. Thanks.” Spitfire forced a smile. Arcus nodded as Spitfire took the bits and placed them in her bag.

“Soarin', let’s go. Rapidfire, don’t be long,” Arcus ordered, taking to the skies with a mighty flap of his wings. Soarin' lingered only long enough to give Spitfire an apologetic look before he flew after Arcus, leaving the twins alone. Silence filled the air between them for a moment before Spitfire spoke.

“Buck my life,” she lamented, her hoof kicking at the ground in frustration.

“At least you aren’t fired,” Rapidfire offered uncomfortably.

Spitfire scoffed, blowing ginger strands of hair from her face. “Might as well be at this rate.” She sighed.

Rapidfire hugged her lightly. “Anything I can do for you, besides find a time travel spell?” he offered, earning a chuckle from his sister.

“Keep an eye on Fleetfoot; she can get pushy when she wants something. And back up Soarin' when he needs help. The captain must demand respect, and the overgrown marshmallow will need backup.” She blinked and smacked a hoof to her face when she realized Rapidfire was giggling again. “And no, you may not call him Marshmallow, or Mallow, in front of the team. If you do, I will personally deliver one of Mom’s photo-albums with all your foal pictures to the office.”

Rapidfire’s giggles died immediately and he paled noticeably at the threat.

“You wouldn’t dare,” he said.

“Evil twin,” she reminded him with the sweetest smile she could manage.

“Your pictures are in those albums too!” he threatened meekly.

“So?” Spitfire asked. “I thought you realized I had no shame after I brought my first marefriend home.”

Rapidfire narrowed his eyes. Clearly this meant war.

“Okay then. You show them the albums, I show them Miss Blankey.”

Spitfire’s eyes went wide. Her beloved fillyhood blanket was the closest thing she had to a treasured item. The fact that she still kept it with her was perhaps the only shame she had left after coming out.

“Ok,” Spitfire held a hoof out to her brother, “mutually assured destruction it is.”

Rapidfire grinned manically, his own hoof bumping hers. “The best kind!” he declared.

Both twins shared a laugh for a few moments.

“I’ll see you around, Spits.” Rapid hugged her again. “Keep out of trouble.”

“You know me,” she replied, returning the hug.

Rapidfire rolled his eyes melodramatically. “That’s why I’m reminding you.” He smiled before taking to the skies in the direction Arcus and Soarin' had flown.

Spitfire sighed to herself, sitting quietly for a moment before her stomach voiced its grievances loud enough to draw a sidelong glance from a passing earth pony couple. She grinned at them sheepishly before quickly trotting away. She needed a stiff cup of coffee and something to eat.

“Let’s see now,” she mumbled to herself. “There should be a good café a few blocks down.”

She did her best to keep her mind off her… situation, a surprisingly easy task when she was focused on trying to find the street signs without the advantage of being able to hover over the crowds. It took her nearly an hour to reach her goal, a nice outdoor café she had been to before called Perry’s Cherry Diner.

She smiled as she trotted up to the counter, a modest line of ponies in front of her. After waiting for a few minutes, she ordered herself a sandwich with hay fries and a large coffee and was told to pick a table to sit at while they prepared her food. After paying, she turned to a small section of tables shaded by cherry trees where she noticed a familiar mare with a cyan coat and a rainbow mane. Her eyes nearly bulged out of her head as the name clicked into her brain.

“Rainbow Dash!?”

The Sandwich Made Her Do It!

Rainbow Dash hummed a tune to herself as she trotted to a table outside of Perry’s Cherry Diner. A nice hot cup of cocoa was being prepared with her name on it, and it would be the most awesome cocoa ever! The sandwich would be pretty cool too, she supposed. Then again, even a boring cup of tea would have been an acceptable reprieve from her rampant thoughts. She was far from Ponyville, her friends, Tank, and her comfy cloud house. All she had was the Daring Do books stuffed at the bottom of her saddlebag, her toothbrush, and enough bits to get her by for a couple months if she kept to a tight budget. She wished she could’ve at least brought Tank along, but she was fairly convinced the weather committee in Cloudsdale would have been less than thrilled by the idea.

As she relaxed into the wicker chair, she stared up to the Manehattan skies. They were clear azure, speckled with cumulus clouds that resembled floating balls of cotton. To the casual observer, it was a picture-perfect day; to Rainbow’s practiced eye, either the previous weather manager was an idiot, or he hadn’t left the weather team with a clear schedule to follow between their departure and Rainbow’s arrival. Either way, it meant she had more work to do.

She shook her head and sighed, glaring at the folder of papers resting on the table in front of her. Inside, attached to the inner cover with a paperclip, was the letter from Manehattan’s normal weather manager, some pegasus named ‘Downburst’. She had met him briefly at a manager’s event in Cloudsdale last year; at least, she was pretty sure she met some pony named Downburst. Rainbow rubbed her chin with a hoof as she strained for the memory. Eventually, she gave up on it with a frustrated groan and turned her attention to the letter itself. She skimmed through it for any relevant information, but was unsurprised to see nothing more than typical office politics.

“Joy of my life,” she moaned to herself.

Most of the remaining papers in the file were a list of all her new employees, their specialties, and what was expected of her for the extent of her tenure as Manehattan’s weather manager.

“Stupid weather factory,” Rainbow grumbled to herself. “Stupid management exchange program.” With another annoyed sigh, she began the task of sifting through the dossiers. It wasn’t awesome, it wasn’t cool, and it certainly wasn’t fun. Rainbow was extremely proud of her work, though, and she was bound and determined to make this weather team good enough to compete with her Ponyville weather team.

Her initial pass through the file already gave her ideas for improvement. The Manehattan weather team was one of the largest weather teams in the terrestrial Equestrian cities, yet there didn’t seem to be any balance in how the team was set up. She had more than enough cloud pushers and rain handlers, but almost no pegasi certified to handle the lightning-producing thunderhead clouds. Even for pegasi like Rainbow, who specialized in working with thunderheads, the temperamental clouds could be extremely dangerous. She decided her first action right there; Manehattan needed lightning wranglers, and she was one of the best.

A unicorn waitress discreetly delivered her cocoa and sandwich. Rainbow thanked her politely, but didn’t lift her eyes from the papers in front of her. She’d rather get the boring stuff done so she could do something fun, like nap or fly. She skimmed through several dossiers before taking a bite of her sandwich.

“Rainbow Dash!?” a familiar voice blurted from somewhere behind her. Rainbow jumped a few inches out of her seat. She turned, her eyes going wide when she saw who was calling her.

“Spiurhk!” she sputtered, her traitorous brunch lodging itself in her throat.

Spitfire panicked slightly, her good wing flaring out as she feverishly patted Rainbow’s back. The younger mare coughed heavily until the last bits of her sandwich were dislodged and she was able to breathe again.

“Sorry, sorry, sorry!” Spitfire apologized profusely.

“Th-thanks,” she wheezed to Spitfire while she caught her breath.

“Don’t mention it,” Spitfire chuckled. “I didn’t mean to startle you.”

Rainbow chuckled nervously, her brain torn between starstruck excitement that she was talking to her idol, utter mortification that she had almost choked to death on a sandwich in front of said idol, and the fact that Spitfire’s hoof was gently rubbing her back.

“It’s cool.” Rainbow gave Spitfire her best carefree smile, though the act was somewhat marred by her flushed cheeks and the occasional post-choke cough. Spitfire innocuously patted Rainbow’s back a few more times before retracting her hoof.

“Glad to hear it,” the Wonderbolt answered with a relieved smile.

“S-so,” Rainbow started nervously, her mind panicking for something clever to say. Unfortunately, the best she got was an anxious: “What’s up?”

‘Good going, Dash,’ she mentally chided herself. ‘Real smooth.’

“Well, not me anymore,” Spitfire admitted with a doleful sigh.

Rainbow tilted her head slightly, her confusion written plainly on her face. Spitfire turned slightly so Rainbow could see her bandaged wing.

“Oh my gosh!” Rainbow gasped. “Are you OK? What happened?”

“It’s a dumb story,” Spitfire admitted with a chuckle. “Mind if I join you?”

“O-of course not!” Rainbow’s heart fluttered in her chest. Her idol wanted to sit and chat with her; that alone was almost enough to make it the best day ever! She enthusiastically waved a hoof to the empty seat beside her own.

Spitfire snickered even while she trotted over to it, her amber eyes watching Rainbow the whole time. The cyan pegasus looked like she was doing all she could to keep from bouncing in place. It was an energy Spitfire wished all her team showed on a daily basis.

“Might wanna fold your wings though, Dash; other ponies might talk,” Spitfire said with a playful wink. As bad as she felt for embarrassing the poor girl, it was still worth seeing Rainbow’s cyan cheeks turn almost as red as the streak in her hair while she frantically got her body-language under control.

“Sorry!” she blurted once she got the excitable appendages under control.

Spitfire couldn’t contain herself any longer, and burst out laughing. “It’s fine, Rainbow. I was just playing with you,” she admitted apologetically.

Rainbow mumbled and hid her face behind her cup of cocoa.

Spitfire had to admit; the mare was cute when she was embarrassed. ‘Whoa there, brain,’ she warned herself. ‘Lets keep out of the gutter, she probably doesn’t even swing that way.’

“So,” Rainbow started, attempting to derail the conversation with what little dignity she had left, “what happened to your wing?”

“Well,” Spitfire paused long enough to thank the waitress who delivered her coffee and meal, “I uh, I tore the bicep.”

Rainbow’s eyebrows shot up in surprise and her mouth acted before her brain, again. “Oh my gosh! It’s not too serious is it? Cause, you’re like one of the best fliers ever!”

Spitfire chuckled, her cheeks feeling slightly warmer than usual from the complement. “I did a pretty good job tearing it,” she admitted ruefully. “I’m kinda grounded until it gets better.”

“That stinks,” Rainbow winced. “I hurt my wing a while back. I couldn’t fly properly for over a week... It was the worst.” She shuddered at the memory. Granted, that experience had also introduced her to the Daring Do series that she now loved, but she’d trade those for flying any day of the week, and twice on Saturdays.

“It’s gonna be at least a month till I can glide again,” Spitfire admitted, staring sadly into her coffee.

“Whoa,” Dash gasped. “How’d you mess it up that bad?”

This time it was Spitfire’s turn to blush. As nice of a mare as she thought Rainbow Dash was, she wasn’t about to admit she almost buried her career on a warm up exercise. It was bad enough the rest of the Wonderbolts knew it. She’d never live it down if she made it back to the active team roster.

“Well...” Spitfire clucked her tongue, stalling until she could think of a decent response. Eventually she settled on Arcus’ favorite words of wisdom. “If it’s worth doing, it’s worth doing right.”

Rainbow giggled. “Especially crashes?”

“Buck yeah!” Spitfire grinned manically, earning a full-throated laugh from the cyan mare.

“So,” Spitfire started, popping a hay fry into her mouth, “What brings you to Manehattan?” She paused to swallow and have a sip of her drink. “Discord break loose again? Changelings invading? Some other super-special save the world kinda thing?”

Rainbow blushed faintly and shook her head. “Nah, just my day job. The weather factory in Cloudsdale was looking through the last few years of performance assessments from all the weather teams in Equestria, and they decided that if they exchanged the managers from all the teams for a couple months, then performance in all territories would improve.” Rainbow took a leery bite of her neglected sandwich, the experience proving happily choke-free.

“Really? How do they figure that will help things across Equestria?” Spitfire leaned forward slightly, genuinely interested in the conversation.

Rainbow swallowed before she spoke again. “Well, on one hoof you’ve got Ponyville, where we’re on schedule with the weather ninety-eight percent of the time, we have a nonexistent accident rate, and the only complaints we get are occasional water distribution errors to the various farms. On the other hoof, there’s the Manehattan weather team, which is regularly behind schedule, and often gets complaints sent to headquarters. The bigwigs in Cloudsdale believe that if they switch around managers for a couple months, then the underperforming teams will benefit from a good manager taking control, and the bad managers will learn from the better teams,” Rainbow paused for another drink, sighing contentedly as the warm chocolate drink slid down her throat. “Personally, I think it’s all a bunch of crud.”

“Huh,” Spitfire mused, her eyes drifting up to the sky. “I never worked in the weather offices; I joined the Air Force and soon as I was old enough. To me, today looks like just another perfect day. So Dash, tell me what’s wrong with this picture.” She waved a hoof to the mostly-sunny skies.

Rainbow looked up to the sky, an annoyed scowl spreading over her face.

“Well first off, today was scheduled for a light shower to keep the midtown parks green and to keep the air from getting too dry. Second, those cumulus clouds were placed at too high of an altitude; they’re getting caught in the trade winds, which means that the cloud pushers are spending too much time keeping them in the city limits instead of setting up the rainclouds. It also means that some clouds are being lost, which means we can’t recycle the water for rain. The height also means that unicorns and earth ponies aren’t getting the optimal amount of shade from the cloud coverage, which also means that the temperature is a bit higher than planned.”

Rainbow sighed and paused for another drink.

“They aren’t a lot of big things, but they’re simple details that shouldn’t be getting overlooked.”

Spitfire found herself taken aback by Rainbow’s keen understanding of the weather. What little she knew of the younger mare had painted the impression of a capable and highly-competitive flyer, but hiding under the surface was a pony who took her job very seriously, and was very good at it.

“Well, color me impressed, Dash,” Spitfire smiled. “You know your stuff.”

The complement brought another blush of color to Rainbow’s cheeks. She smiled sheepishly and chuckled. “Thanks,” she answered. “So, uh, what brings you to Manehattan? Are the rest of the Wonderbolts here?”

“Yeah, we— They had a show...” She paused to remember the date, her ears falling flat as she recalled the information, “… last night,” Spitfire said sadly.

“I missed a Wonderbolts show by one day!?” Rainbow blurted. “That is so lame!” she lamented, her head flopping onto the table. Spitfire laughed and patted the younger mare’s back.

“Well if it makes you feel any better, I missed it too,” Spitfire admitted, earning a giggle from Rainbow.

“Is there another one coming up anytime soon?” Dash asked hopefully.

Spitfire shook her head; seeing disappointment fill Rainbow’s expression saddened her as well.

“That was our last one for a couple months. This is the time we take to schedule our next batch of shows and fulfill our commercial obligations,” Spitfire explained, silently ecstatic that she would get to miss out on advertising shoots and interviews. As much as she loved her job and the fans around it, she absolutely hated the press side of it. “Guess I get a surprise vacation out of it at least,” she said with a chuckle.

Silence briefly settled over the two as they worked through their lunches. Spitfire noticed Rainbow trying to subtly steal a glance at her every so often, her eyes darting back to her own plate every time Spitfire caught her looking. An idea popped into the Wonderbolt’s mind.

It was probably stupid, reckless, and altogether ill-advised, but at the same time she was getting mixed signals from the weather mare. Deciding to at least satisfy her own curiosity, she swished her tail just enough so it brushed against Rainbow’s. It was a trick she’d picked up in high school, a good way to subtly test if another mare might swing her way, and yet easy enough to brush off as an accident if they weren’t. With great interest, she watched Dash’s reaction from the corner of her eye.

Rainbow was many things, mostly pure awesomeness and speed, but subtlety was never something she had been any good at. When Spitfire’s tail brushed against hers, she tensed visibly, her cheeks flushing crimson, and her eyes going wide for a second until she managed to regain control of herself. She stole another glance at Spitfire, who was sipping her coffee with what seemed disinterest to the weather pony.

Rainbow hesitated. Had the touch been an accident? Had it been a test? With any other mare she would have returned the gesture and seen how things played out, but this wasn’t any other pony: this was Spitfire, her hero, her idol, and the captain of the Wonderbolts! And Wonderbolts were exemplars of what made pegasi great. They wouldn’t seriously flirt with the likes of her... right?

Rainbow couldn’t remember feeling quite so nervous as she flicked her own tail, the polychromatic hairs brushing along Spitfire’s ginger tail. Her cheeks burned fiercely when Spitfire looked her in the eye, the Wonderbolt confident, the weather manager terrified.

“So tell me, Rainbow,” Spitfire started calmly, “any special somepony back home?”

“Wh—er…well, no,” Rainbow stammered.

Spitfire quirked an eyebrow. “No special stallion… Or mare? I’m surprised.”

Rainbow just blushed deeper and offer a noncommittal shrug.

Spitfire allowed a small smile when Rainbow didn’t comment on her use of both genders. “I’d think a mare like you would be swamped with dates.”

Rainbow laughed nervously, wondering if her cheeks would stop burning anytime soon. “No. Not really, no.”

“Not really?” Spitfire asked. “Does that mean you’ve got your eye on somepony, but you don’t think they would be in to you?”

Rainbow fidgeted uncomfortably and managed a nod. “Sort o—” She caught herself just in time. “It’s a friend. I just know they wouldn’t feel the same though.”

Spitfire didn’t miss the slip and decided to take a leap of faith. “Rainbow.” She started a bit nervously, the shift in her tone catching the younger mare’s attention, “I’m gonna tell you a secret, something that only my family, Soarin’, and a few other Wonderbolts know. Can I trust you not to tell anypony else?”

Rainbow nodded, her heart pounding in her ears.

“I like mares,” she whispered, watching Rainbow’s reaction very closely. “And if I’m wrong about this I will grovel your hooves and beg for forgiveness, but, I suspect, so do you....”

Rainbow flinched noticeably, her ruby eyes blinking rapidly to prevent tears from showing. Spitfire understood that look. It was a look she had for years after she first came out to her friends and family. The confusion, the fear, all took time to work things out. In the end it had cost her many ponies she considered friends and damaged her relationship with her family for a long time. She put a reassuring hoof on Rainbow’s shoulder.

“Hey, it’s alright. There’s nothing to be ashamed about,” Spitfire cooed, earning a small nod from Rainbow. “Have you ever told anypony?”

“My dad knows,” Rainbow answered, her voice nearly a whisper. “And Fluttershy, my best friend.”

Spitfire nodded, vaguely recalling the timid mare. “What about your mom?”

“My mom died a long time ago,” Rainbow answered, sending Spitfire’s brain into panic mode.

“I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to—”

“It’s alright, really,” Rainbow cut her off. “I was too young to know her, so it doesn’t hurt to talk about.”

Spitfire nodded, somewhat relieved. “Is your dad good with it?” she asked.

Rainbow nodded and smiled fondly. “Yeah. When I told him, he just hugged me and told me to be happy.”

“That’s good,” Spitfire grinned. As the conversation lulled again, she had a thought, an idea she could easily see blowing up in her face in spectacular fashion in any number of ways.

‘Keep out of trouble.’ Her brother’s words echoed in her mind.

‘Sorry Rapid…’ Spitfire thought regretfully.

“Say, Rainbow…” She waited for Dash to look her in the eye. “What are you up to today?”

“Uh...” Rainbow blushed again. “Well, I gotta find a hotel to stay at, and then tomorrow I start running the Manehattan weather team.”

Spitfire sat up slightly, a smile on her lips. “Well, Rainbow Dash, I happen to know my way around Manehattan, and I have suddenly found myself with a lot of time and not a lot to do, so would you like to hang out today, then maybe get some dinner together later?”

Rainbow was fairly convinced that her heart had stopped at some point during the proposal. “Are...are you asking me out?” she asked in nervous astonishment.

Spitfire pretended to think it over for a moment. “Well we could make it a proper date if you’d like. And I promise, no strings attached. If you don’t like it, I’ll never bring it up again and word of it will never reach Wonderbolt ears. Cross my heart, hope to die,” she said as she pantomimed the gesture on her chest.

Despite all her concern and nerves, nothing in the world could’ve stopped the smile that bloomed on Rainbow’s face. “That sounds awesome!”

Pop A Wingie

After finishing their brunch, the two pegasi trotted down towards the city’s bustling commercial district. Spitfire took care to point out all the interesting locations she’d been to during the semi-regular trips she’d taken to Manehattan during her time as a Wonderbolt. Fancy restaurants where the team had been treated by wealthy sponsors, exclusive clubs they went to after shows for private parties, and even a run down rat-hole of a bar that Spitfire swore up and down was the single greatest pub in Equestria. Rainbow was understandably skeptical about that one.

Rainbow kept pace beside her, entranced by every little story and always looking for more details. Her nerves were much easier to ignore when she was moving around and burning energy. Flying would have been better, but that option was unavailable for obvious reasons. As excited as she was to be spending her whole day with Spitfire, there was a question that had been bouncing around the back of her mind since they had left the diner. She waited for a break in the conversation, and enough built up nerve, before she spoke up.

“Hey, Spitfire?” She asked.

“Yeeesss?” Spitfire drawled.

“So, um, that is, if you don’t mind me asking,” Dash hesitated, earning an amused look from Spitfire. “Are all those stories about you and Soarin’ true?”

Spitfire sighed and shook her head causing a slight panic in Rainbow.

“I mean if you don’t wanna tell—”

“Whoa, Rainbow!” Spitfire said as she patted Rainbow on the shoulder. “Easy there, I’m not upset”

“Oh, phew,” Rainbow sighed, her posture relaxing.

“Honestly, I had just kinda forgot about those setups.” She admitted as she resumed her walk.

“They were setups?” Rainbow asked, trotting to catch up with the Wonderbolt. Spitfire giggled lightly.

“Yeah,” Spitfire laughed, “Soarin’, Celestia bless the big softie, was going through a nasty spat with a couple of tabloids that were publishing smear articles claiming he was dating colts. There were also rumors spreading that I was a fillyfooler. So to counter the rumors, Soarin’ and I got set up on a bunch of publicity dates. It was arranged so that we were always standing next to each other during press conferences and public meet and greets. After shows, we’d have meetings about team business over coffee at public cafés, and every now and then we’d have to get ‘caught’ sharing longing glances and sly touches,” Spitfire giggled deviously.

“Wait, what?” Rainbow blurted.

Spitfire stopped in her tracks and leaned close to the cyan mare, giving Rainbow her very best bedroom eyes. “Oh, Rainbow Dash, you are so adorably naïve.”

Rainbow’s wings shot up almost as fast as her face went from blue to red. Spitfire nearly fell over laughing.

“Th-that is so not cool!” Rainbow squeaked once she regained some semblance of control.

“Oh-oh wow…” Spitfire struggled to speak through her laughter “Y-your face, was so-so.” She burst into another fit of laughter before sitting heavily, clutching her sides “Oh... Ow. I-I can’t breathe.” She snickered.

“Karma’s a pain in the flank,” Rainbow noted dryly, sitting beside Spitfire and patting her back.

“Oh boy,” Spitfire gasped, directing a broad smile to Rainbow. “Look at the bright side, Dash.”

“What bright side?” Rainbow eyed her incredulously.

“At least you didn’t pop a wingie during a public meet and greet.”

Rainbow snorted, a lopsided smirk forming on her face.

“Who did that?” She asked impishly.

“My brother,” Spitfire chuckled.

Rainbow eyed the Wonderbolt suspiciously. “Why do I get the feeling you had something to do with that?”

Spitfire tried her best to look innocent. “I can neither confirm nor deny that I may or may not have whispered a… colorful comment on the quality of some mare’s flank.”

Rainbow struggled to restrain a giggle. “You are eeeeevil.”

“Maybe, but I make it look good,” Spitfire puffed her chest out. “Besides, he put powdered sugar in my uniform, so he deserved a little humiliation. It took me hours to get it out of my coat and feathers,” Spitfire grumbled.

“I wish I had a brother or sister like that. It must be so cool!” Rainbow grinned.

“Yeah, we’re kinda like very close enemies,” Spitfire giggled. “He’s a pain in my flank, but I love the big dope.”

Rainbow laughed for a moment before another question entered her mind. “Spitfire?”

“Allegedly.” The Wonderbolt answered lightheartedly.

“You’re so confident and cool,” Rainbow started, earning the faintest of blushes from the golden mare. “Why would you need to have a fake coltfriend if you don’t swing that way?” she asked, her brow furrowing slightly in confusion.

Spitfire sighed a bit, “Well, it’s, hmm… how do I explain this?” Spitfire put her hoof to her chin for a moment. “Well, Dash, I know you’re a big fan, so tell me, what do you know about how the Wonderbolts get their funding?”

Rainbow thought for a moment before answering, “Well according to all the magazines I’ve seen, you get baseline funding from the military,and then pull in additional revenue from commercial and private sponsorships.”

Spitfire nodded. “That’s mostly correct, but a bit out of date. About five years ago, the military stopped providing funds to the Wonderbolts. Mostly because our success meant that ticket revenues and sponsorships more than met our budget needs. It’s great for the team, but it does make for some … problems.” She scowled.

“Whaddaya mean?” Rainbow queried, subconsciously edging closer to the older mare.

“When I got my first interview with the Wonderbolts I was in a relationship with a mare. She came with me to the interview to wish me good luck.” Spitfire smiled at the memory. “Well, the previous team captain and our current team manager, Arcus, asked me about that relationship. I told them we were dating, and they told me that if I wanted to be on the team, I would have to keep that relationship secret.”

“What? Why?” Rainbow gasped, feeling her hackles rise at the very notion. Spitfire shrugged sadly, a distant look coming over her.

“It’s just business, really. The Wonderbolts have an image to maintain. The uniform, the tricks, the acts, it’s all to glorify what’s best about pegasus culture. We’re family-friendly, nonpartisan, and controversy free. That’s the image that sells, and that’s the image we have to keep for our sponsors. Anytime a team member becomes embroiled in a controversy, the situation is resolved quietly. For example, Soarin’s situation with the muckrakers: we solved it by never directly addressing it. Other times, Arcus has had to take more drastic actions,” Spitfire explained. Rainbow nodded, getting the idea of what ‘drastic actions’ probably meant.

“So, um…what happened with your marefriend? I—I mean if you don’t mind me asking!” Rainbow panicked slightly, suddenly wondering if Fluttershy felt this nervous every day. Spitfire smiled and chuckled softly.

“She was alright with it at first,” Spitfire looked up to the sky longingly, “But as the weeks turned into months, and I spent less and less time around Cloudsdale, she got fed up with it and made me an ultimatum. It was her, or the Wonderbolts.” Spitfire’s shoulders sank and her gaze fell to the ground. “I had been offered the office of Team Captain the day before. I was gonna celebrate it with her. Turns out it was the last time I’d see her.”

“That’s horrible,” Rainbow said, gently resting a hoof on Spitfire’s shoulder. The Wonderbolt patted Rainbow on the back and smiled.

“Being a Wonderbolt makes for some hard choices in life, Dash... Some of them will stick with you for a long time,” Spitfire admitted candidly.

Rainbow nodded. “Have you dated since then?” she asked curiously.

Spitfire chuckled. “Well, depending on how today turns out, I’ll have had between zero and one dates since then.” She smirked at the pink tint gracing Rainbow’s cheeks again.

“Let me ask you, Dash,” Spitfire started, standing to resume their walk through town. Rainbow fell into step beside her. “Have you ever been on a date with a mare before?”

“Um…kinda yes, kinda no,” Rainbow admitted shyly, causing Spitfire to raise and eyebrow.

“Now this I gotta hear.” She prodded.

“About five or six years ago, I worked up the courage to ask my friend, Fluttershy out for a date. In hindsight, I think she only said ‘yes’ because she didn’t want to hurt my feelings.” Rainbow blushed deeply, though the memory buoyed her embarrassment with a pleasant smile. “I figured out pretty quick that she wasn’t into it, but she humored me for the day.”

“Aww, she sounds like a sweet girl,” Spitfire commented.

“Heh, yeah she is. In retrospect, I’d say she’s the closest thing I’ve ever had to a sister,” Rainbow grinned. The two settled into a comfortable silence for a while before Spitfire turned to the weather mare again.

“So, Dash,” Spitfire asked with a friendly smile, “Wanna catch a movie?”

“As long as it’s not one of those boring romantic comedies,” Rainbow answered.

Spitfire gagged melodramatically. “I think I’d rather suck face with my brother than suffer through one of those!” She shuddered. “And Rapid has terrible breath.”

Rainbow giggled and hopped onto her rear hooves, using her wings to stabilize herself “They’re all the same! Stallion meets mare, she hates him, then through a series of wacky misadventures they slowly get closer and closer until it they sleep together, then one of them takes something completely out of context and there’s a twenty minute crying montage before they reconcile in front of a large crowd of ponies professing their eternal love and gag me with a stick!” Rainbow pantomimed elaborate gestures with her rant, leaving Spitfire clutching her sides for breath.

“Oh, oh! Don’t forget the part where she’s about to marry another stallion and he crashes into the wedding and tells her why she can’t marry the other guy!” Spitfire laughed loudly. Rainbow’s laughter forced her to plant all four hooves firmly back on the ground. Once both mares had managed to calm down and catch their breath, Spitfire stood and motioned for Rainbow to follow her.

“I was thinking something with explosions,” Spitfire grinned. “Sound like fun to you?”

“Hay yeah!” Rainbow agreed.

“Then onwards!” Spitfire stuck a hoof out ahead of her as she struck her best action pose, the kind normally reserved for propaganda posters. “To adventure!”

Rainbow giggled and snapped a crisp salute. “Yes Ma’am!”

The two walked side by side for a while in comfortable silence, each taking advantage of the period to assess their thoughts. For Spitfire, she struggled to remember when was the last time she had so much fun without flying. Once she had gotten Rainbow distracted from her anxiety, the weather mare had opened up resplendently. Spitfire certainly wouldn’t get her hopes up, especially not after only a few hours of casually hanging out with the younger mare, but the prospect of things developing was far from unpleasant: Dash certainly understood the intrinsic need to fly, she had a good head on her shoulders, and it didn’t hurt that she was very easy on the eyes. Plus, if Spitfire played her cards right, maybe she could learn the Sonic Rainboom after all.

‘No!’ The Wonderbolt mentally kicked herself. ‘No, we are not going there! I am not leading this mare on just so I can learn a fancy new trick!’ She berated herself more while maintaining a casual smile on the outside.

Her errant thought did highlight a potentially problematic situation if things did work out between her and Dash, specifically if or when she broke the news to Arcus and the principal team members. She knew Rapidfire and Soarin’ would be on her side, Arcus would likely tell her to keep it secret, but Fleetfoot and Blaze would probably give her no small amount of headaches. She could already hear Fleetfoot badgering her endlessly that the Wonderbolts deserved to know the Rainboom and Blaze’s more subtle persuasions that the training could at least benefit the team immeasurably.

Spitfire’s problem would be that she couldn’t fully disagree with either of them. Whatever training Rainbow had figured out to perform a Rainboom would probably make any pegasus a better flier. Likewise, she didn’t think it was necessarily fair for only one pony in all of the world to know something as awe inspiring as that. But on the other hoof, perhaps it was the Rainboom’s exclusivity that made it so special. If any pegasus could do it on command, would it still bring joy to the eyes of those who saw it? Would it still send the world into that instant of silence just before the visible light spectrum shattered? Could she bring herself to be the mare that took the extraordinary and made it ordinary? Did anypony have that right?

Spitfire turned slightly so she could better see the young flier beside her. Rainbow was unique even amongst Pegasi. Her unique polychromatic mane and tail, her athleticism, and even her loyalty were all remarkable in their own right. Combine those qualities with her keen understanding of weather management and her innate knowledge of flight and you had a mare who was almost unreal. Spitfire felt heat building in her cheeks when Rainbow noticed her staring.

‘Oh ponyfeathers, I think I’m developing a crush,’ she cursed herself. ‘Good job there, Spits. Way to be pathetic.’

“Uh, Spitfire?” Rainbow asked, breaking the Wonderbolt of her treasonous thoughts. “You ok in there?”

“Yup!” Spitfire shot back, swinging her hips to playfully bump Rainbow’s. She couldn’t resist a giggle from the streak of red that formed on the weather manager’s face.

“Wow, you really don’t have much dating practice, do you?” She smiled. Rainbow frowned, a look of nervous discomfort spreading over her face as she turned her head away. She tensed slightly when Spitfire’s good wing draped over her back.

“Hey, come on, chin up now,” Spitfire spoke softly. “We all gotta start somewhere; it just looks like you get to start here and now with me.”

Rainbow’s eyes went wide for a moment, her cheeks burning red. “Wait, you mean…”

Spitfire laughed, using her wing to pat Rainbow’s back. “Come on, Rainbow, first dates aren’t supposed to be spent walking the streets!”

Spitfire led Rainbow down a few more blocks to the local cinema. The two perused the posters adorning the side of the building before setting on what looked like an interesting film called ‘Blazing Saddles’. Spitfire paid for both tickets, much to Rainbow’s embarrassment, although she insisted on at least paying for the snacks. Upon seeing the heavily inflated prices for a bucket of popcorn and two drinks, however, she silently regretted that decision.

The two set themselves up in the top row of the surprisingly empty theater, though in fairness it was a bit early in the day for most ponies to be out seeing a movie. Despite Rainbow’s professional opinion, it was indeed a nice day outside. As the lights dimmed and the previews began to play, both mares made themselves comfortable. Spitfire sat with Rainbow on her left side, so she wouldn’t accidentally bump the injured wing.

After the annoyingly long previews were over, the movie began in earnest with the titles emblazoned on the screen in bold lettering over a sweeping shot of the San Palomino Desert. Spitfire smiled and half-watched the movie, half-watched Rainbow. As two earth ponies pushed a cart along an under-construction railway on-screen, Spitfire took a large sip of her drink. Then the first pony started speaking and Spitfire’s drink nearly exited through her nose.

“Come on, boys! The way you're lollygaggin' around here with them picks and them shovels, you'd think it was a hundert an' twenty degree. Can't be more than a hundert an' fourteen.”

Things devolved quickly from there, both mares trying to survive their snacks and the movie’s relentlessly raunchy humor. About twenty minutes into the film, once the humor had slowed enough that Spitfire felt safe enough to eat or drink, she cast a glance over to her date. Rainbow was smiling brightly, here eyes affixed to the screen.

Spitfire took a chance and wrapped her left foreleg around Rainbow’s shoulders. Rainbow flinched at first, her posture stiffening before she managed to relax. Spitfire could feel the younger mare trembling. She rubbed her hoof reassuringly against Rainbow’s shoulder, subtly encouraging the mare not to worry. Slowly but surely Rainbow relaxed, even leaning into Spitfire’s sidelong embrace.

By the time the movie had almost reached its midpoint, Rainbow had relaxed to the point of almost snuggling with Spitfire, her head resting lightly against the Wonderbolt’s shoulder. There was something that Spitfire couldn’t quite explain about the embrace. Something she hadn’t felt very often, even in her longer lasting relationships. It was simply... nice.

The film shifted to a scene involving a group of stallions sitting around a campfire, drinking black coffee and eating baked beans. The mood vanished in mortified laughter.

Rainbow the Weather Mare

Spitfire and Rainbow Dash remained in the restaurant long after their plates had been emptied, the table cleared and their appetites sated. Both fliers watched the lone griffon upon the stage, a pale spotlight washing him in its soft glow, their attention never wavering. He put his heart and soul into every song, pausing only long enough to mutter a shy thanks between songs as the ponies surrounding him made their accolades clear. His demeanor between songs, as well as his soft singing, reminded Rainbow very much of Fluttershy. It was a stark reminder to Rainbow that not all griffons were like Gilda.

Eventually, his set came to an end, and after packing away his guitar, he sat at the bar where the club had provided him with a free meal and drink. Rainbow and Spitfire took that as their cue to leave. They each deposited a few bits into the Griffon’s tip jar and purchased a copy of his album before they left.

The rain had stopped by the time they exited the club, the amber glow of the street lamps reflected in the glassy shine of wet streets and sidewalks. A gentle breeze put a slight chill in the air, sending a mild shiver through both mares. They kept close as they walked.

“Thanks again for buying dinner, Spitfire,” Rainbow said for at least the fourth time that evening. “You really didn’t have to do that.”

Spitfire smiled. “I know I didn’t have to Dash, but I wanted to.”

“Fine, then I guess I’ll just have to walk you home,” Rainbow said with a grin.

Spitfire found herself taken aback by the suggestion. She was used to being the one to say that line, not receive it. “Hey now,” She protested, “I’m a big filly. I can walk myself.”

“Yeah, but your wing is messed up,” Rainbow pointed out. “I can fly back to my place no sweat.”

Spitfire was about to protest when she noticed the pleading look in Rainbow’s eyes.

“Fine, just this once,” She acquiesced, a blush creeping up her cheeks.

Rainbow grinned, happy for her small victory.

The pair enjoyed the quiet walk back to Spitfire’s hotel, which was located in the more upscale part of town. Both mares paused outside of the hotel’s entrance. Rainbow was rendered speechless by the opulence of the building, even though it was more or less what she had expected.

“Whoa, you guys stay here?” she marveled aloud.

“Usually. Sometimes different places offer better group deals.”

“Wow. Must be nice to be famous.”

“It has some perks,” Spitfire mused, a peculiar feeling tickling at the back of her mind. It was almost a disappointment that the evening had to end, something she couldn’t recall feeling in a very long time.

“So, Dash,” she said, turning to face the younger mare. “How was your first date?”

For all her bravado and pride as a tough pony, Rainbow found her heart fluttering at the question. “I-it was awesome!” she exclaimed.

“Glad to hear it,” Spitfire replied, genuinely glad to see the weather mare happy. “So, want to do it again sometime?”

Rainbow felt her heart stop momentarily. It didn’t seem real; her idol was asking her out for a second date. Fear and indecision threatened to overwhelm her. Before she could psyche herself out, she decided to take the jump.

“S-sure! That would be awesome.” She smiled, her cheeks burning red and a slight tremble running through her athletic frame.

“Great! What are you doing Wednesday night? After work, of course.”

“Um…well.” She paused a moment to think. “I, uh, I hadn’t really thought about it. I’ve never been to Manehattan before.”

“Well then, how about you and I meet up at Perry’s Cherry Diner again, and from there we’ll make it a date?”

“O-okay, that would be cool!” Rainbow smiled nervously.

“Awesome! Six o’ clock sound good?” Spitfire asked, making an educated guess about Rainbow’s work schedule was.

“I’ll be there!” Rainbow said.

“Great! I’ll see you Wednesday, Dash.” Spitfire winked before disappearing into her hotel. Rainbow felt her cheeks burn again, but what struck her as more curious was how strange she felt being left to herself again. With a flap of her wings, she took to the skies. A good flight would clear her head.

Spitfire felt a peculiar spring in her step as she made her way up to her room, humming to herself the whole way. What she had expected to be a miserable start to a miserable month had proven to be one of the best days she had in recent memory. It had been a no-pressure, no-commitment day with a likeable mare, which was more than Spitfire could say for any of her prospects since she became captain.

Her tail swished happily as she came to her suite. If Wednesday was half as fun as today had been, maybe the next couple weeks wouldn’t be so bad after all. Fishing the key from her saddlebag, she unlocked the door and pushed it open. Her thoughts were distracted by the crunch of paper under her hoof when she stepped into the darkened room.

Looking down she spotted a folded sheet of paper, now crumpled along the section she was standing on. Quirking her eyebrow curiously, she made her way fully into the room and closed the door before opening the note. She quickly recognized Rapidfire’s impressively sloppy writing.

‘Hey Spits, I swung by around six to see if you wanted to grab some drinks with us, but I guess you’re out by yourself. Soarin picked me for the El-Tee spot; I think I’ll get him a gift. Do you think he likes marshmallows or would he find that cannibalistic? Can’t be too careful. I’ll stop by and see how you’re doing tomorrow if I can. Hope you’ve kept outta trouble.

Eh, who am I kidding. Just don’t do anything you don’t want Arcus, mom, or dad to read in the papers.

-Rapid

p.s. I took your uniform for cleaning. The thing stinks like a junkyard mule.’

Spitfire rolled her eyes; the note reminded her of a slew of issues that could prove highly problematic if she continued to date Rainbow Dash. She put the note on her nightstand, determined not to let the challenging realities of her life ruin a great evening. Those could wait until morning, and Spitfire couldn’t think of a better time to think about those issues than when she would be out on the town scouting out places to take Rainbow on Wednesday. Her mind made up, she tossed her saddlebags onto the alicorn sized bed and raided one of the small bottles of wine from the well-stocked minibar her room contained. Momentarily setting them aside, she made for the washroom and started the water for a hot bubble bath. While Spitfire waited for the tub to fill, she uncapped the small bottle and slipped a straw into the bottle, which she loudly slurped from.

‘Propriety, eat your heart out,’ she snickered to herself.

Across town, in her decidedly less-opulent hotel room, Rainbow Dash lay in her cloud bed, flat on her back with a Daring Do book resting on her chest. Two laps flying around the city hadn’t cleared the thoughts from her head, nor had several chapters of Daring Do, and she highly doubted brushing her teeth would prove much more helpful.

The day had been like a strange dream; a perfectly boring morning interrupted by a surprise encounter with her personal idol. An idol that then took her out on the first proper date she’d ever been on, and seemed genuinely keen on a second. Rainbow pressed her hooves to her face and groaned.

She could kick a dragon in the face, charge the physical incarnation of chaos, and gleefully dive into a brawl with just her five friends against hundreds of changelings, but the prospect of seriously dating a mare was terrifying to her. Fluttershy and her dad would be fine with it, but what about her other friends? What about her co-workers? What would it do to her chances of one day joining the Wonderbolts?

“What am I gonna do?” she lamented quietly.

Sleep avoided her for most of the night.

By the time the sun had crested the horizon, Rainbow was already in the Manehattan weather office. The whole concept of a formal weather office was an alien idea to her Ponyville mindset. Then again, in Ponyville, she only had to worry about a few dozen employees to cover all of the town’s weather needs. Their ‘office’ in Ponyville was whatever shop they all agreed to meet at for breakfast. In hindsight, it probably wasn’t the best setup for the poor pegasus who was running her normal team during the exchange program.

Manehattan’s staff was in the hundreds. Just on a logistical level, it was an unprecedented challenge for Rainbow. Still, she was not a quitter. If she could handle a day around Pinkie Pie, how much crazier could running a large weather team be? With a deep breath and a brave grin, she stepped into her new office.

“Today is gonna be awesome!” she declared proudly.

Three hours after her bold declaration, she found herself standing in front of several dozen pegasi, each wearing a color-coded vest to denote their team.

‘Today is gonna suuuuck,’ she thought.

“This is a battery cloud,” Rainbow explained for what she was reasonably sure was the fourth time. She tilted her head towards a baseball-sized lump of gray cloud in her hoof. “Well, technically, it’s just a clump of regular cloud that I charged this morning, but that’s not the point. It contains about four thousand volts of electricity, which is roughly the yield of a static shock.”

“W-what are we supposed to do with it?” asked a nervous mare whose name Rainbow hadn’t learned yet. Either way, her blue vest told Dash all she needed to know.

“You’re on the rain team, right?” Rainbow asked, erring on the side of caution.

“Y-yes ma’am. I’m Dewdrop,” she introduced herself.

Rainbow forced a pleasant smile, even as she screamed on the inside. “You don’t do anything. Like I explained earlier, the rain teams are to keep clear of the thunderheads at all times. Only the cloud-pushers and the lightning wranglers should be handling them.”

“W-what happens if one of the rain ponies handles them?” Dewdrop squeaked.

Rainbow found herself wondering if Fluttershy had a long lost sister.

“You might get a static shock, if... the cloud is inactive, or you could be on the receiving end of a full lightning bolt if the cloud is primed. Either way: Do. Not. Risk it,” Rainbow growled.

“Thunderheads are the lightning wrangler’s jobs.” Interrupted a light-green stallion wearing an orange vest. “Why are the cloud pushers here too?”

Rainbow answered by flying over to the stallion and holding the battery cloud close to his nose. The stallion yelped as his snout received a zap from the little cloud.

“There are only fifteen lightning-certified pegasi in Manehattan,” Rainbow explained. “For a city this size, with all the clouds your team has to handle, there should be at least sixty.”

“What’s that got to do with my crew?” The stallion pouted, rubbing his tingling nose delicately.

“I need pegasi with natural lightning resistance. A pegasus who is naturally resistant to lighting, like me, can handle these clouds without getting zapped.”

“So you’re gonna zap all the cloud pushers?” an amused stallion in a yellow vest postulated. Rainbow did know this one’s name: Flash Cloud. He was the senior lightning wrangler in Manehattan.

“Well, your crew is gonna’ help with that,” Rainbow smirked, “just for the sake of timeliness.”

“Sweet,” Flash grinned, eyeing the green stallion with nothing less than wicked intentions. The stallion didn’t miss the look.

“I know where you live, Flash,” he warned.

“I know where you nap, Headwind,” Flash retorted cheerfully.

“Oh for Pete’s sake,” Rainbow mumbled as the two stallions exchanged playful insults. “Do you two need a few minutes in private?”

Both stallions stopped their bickering and faced Rainbow, Headwind mortified and Flash laughing boisterously. “N-no ma’am!” He choked between laughs. “I’m good!”

“All right then,” Rainbow hoofed the battery cloud over to him. “I want a list of all the cloud pushers with potential to be certified for lightning wrangling by the end of the day.”

Flash saluted. “You got it, boss lady.”

Rainbow smiled and dismissed Flash with the wave of a hoof before turning her attention to Headwind. “Alright, you get to come with me. We’re gonna’ start placing these clouds the right way, or my name isn’t Rainbow Dash!”

When the Boss is Away...

Spitfire hummed as she walked the streets of Manehattan, unbearable boredom having driven her from the hotel very quickly after she had awoken that morning. After raiding the complimentary breakfast the establishment provided in the lobby, she had been struck with a bit of wanderlust. Spitfire struggled to recall the last time she truly had no responsibilities to anypony but herself and, thusly, the opportunity to satiate such a desire. She glanced at her injured wing in disappointment.

Glancing upwards, she noticed the Manehattan skies were abuzz with activity. From Spitfire’s position on the ground, it appeared as though Rainbow was making good on her promise to kick some flanks in the weather crews. Dozens of pegasi filled the sky above her. Ponies in blue and orange vests worked in small teams to bring clouds down below the reach of the trade winds to heights of only a few hundred feet above the buildings.

Spitfire occasionally spotted a faint rainbow contrail darting from team to team, never staying in one spot for more than a minute or two before disappearing in a multicolored flash. Spitfire smiled, glad the young pegasus seemed to be having success in her new role. She looked forward to seeing Rainbow tomorrow evening and speak to her about her newfound job.

Seeing the weather manager talk about her work, the frustration in her eyes at the little mistakes, and the burning passion to make things better all reminded Spitfire of her own passion for her work. She gave the Wonderbolts everything she had both in the air and behind the scenes. To her, there was simply nothing more beautiful than seeing a pony practicing their craft with skill and passion. Spitfire sighed; Wednesday night suddenly couldn’t arrive fast enough.

She wandered the streets for the better part of the morning, window shopping as she moved from block to block. After stopping in an outdoor diner for a light lunch consisting of a fruit salad and fresh lemonade, she made her way to one of the smaller parks that had a good view of the sky. She wasn’t terribly surprised to see a dozen or so young fillies and colts playing in and around the small playground, their respective parents or foalsitters lingering a small distance away.

Spitfire found herself a nice spot of soft grass under the shade of a large oak tree. Lying on her back, she put her forelegs up behind her head and sighed contentedly. There were few ‘wild’ clouds in Equestria—a well-managed weather team ensured that—but that had never stopped Spitfire from enjoying watching the weather teams do their work. Perhaps Rainbow had been right: the clouds were much nicer to watch up close.

“Captain Spitfire?” a stallion called from somewhere she couldn’t see.

‘Oh buck me…’ She cringed internally upon sitting up to get a look at the stallion. He had a rusty brown coat with a brown mane and soft brown eyes. Spitfire was suddenly glad she had forgotten to put a fresh bandage on her wing when she rolled out of bed that morning.

“Red Top...” She regarded him coldly as she brought herself to a sitting position. “What brings you here?”

“Hey,” he said feigning a hurt look. “I take a day off now and then.”

“In a park?” She asked in cold monotone.

Red Top sighed and pointed to a small unicorn filly and colt playing tag around the playground. The colt was a spitting image of Red Top, the same unkempt brown mane, and the same rusty brown coat. The filly’s coat was tan, her mane a light silver color. Both were too young to have earned their cutie marks yet. Spitfire shot Red Top an incredulous glare.

Red Top noticed the look. “I’m out with my kids,” he noted with a proud smile. Noticing Spitfire’s withering look, he frowned “What? Is it really so hard to believe I have a family?”

“Well, given your…uh…work,” Spitfire answered carefully.

Red Top laughed. “Fair point, but we all do what we must to pay the bills. Tell me, Captain...” He sat beside her, his eyes keeping track of his children. “Word has it that a Wonderbolt was in the hospital the other day for an unspecified injury, and you were absent from the team’s last show. Care to shed some light on it?”

“For inquiries about internal team matters, talk to our press office,” Spitfire answered evenly.

“Yeah, but I have the team’s captain sitting right here,” Red Top noted with a smirk. “The team captain who mysteriously misses the last performance of the season around the same time I get a tip about an injury on the active roster. Tell me, Spitfire, what brings a Wonderbolt to the ground?”

Spitfire had to force herself to look bored, a task not made easy by the potent mixture of anxiety and irritation the questions caused. She certainly didn’t like Red Top, but she could at least respect the nosey unicorn’s gift for sniffing out stories. Arcus had made it very clear he was to be avoided, but he hadn’t given her any detail on what to do if he stumbled across her. The wrong answer could very easily end her career, and she wasn’t about to kick a pony where his children could see. With a sigh, Spitfire decided to roll the dice and make something up.

“Health issues among team members is privileged information; if that pony wanted their health to be public knowledge, then you would know.”

“Fair enough,” Red conceded politely. “What about you?”

“I’m just here on holiday,” Spitfire half-lied.

Red Top cast a disbelieving glance at her.

“What?” She squawked. “I take them from time to time.” She emphasized her point by returning to her relaxed position to watch a group of cloud pushers haul a large nimbus from the height of the trade winds to only a few hundred feet.

“Not a lot of pegasi cloud watch from the ground,” he noted.

Spitfire smirked; it hadn’t been an accusation, just a statement of fact. Most pegasi didn’t watch the clouds from the perspective of the so-called ‘ground pounders’.

“Point being?” she replied, doing her best to maintain a disinterested tone.

“No point,” Red top answered casually. “Just an observation.”

Spitfire shrugged.

“Well, enjoy your vacation, Captain. I’ll certainly be in touch if there’s any news.” He smiled politely before trotting away.

Spitfire held her breath until she was sure he was gone, releasing it in a long sigh.

“Too close,” she mumbled wearily. “That was too close.”

She gazed up to the sky, her attention loosely focused on a group of pegasi that were maneuvering smaller clouds around to provide even coverage. She didn’t see a hint of Rainbow anywhere, probably a good sign for the young weather manager. To be busy was far better than to be bored, and Spitfire was quickly earning a PhD in boredom.

With a groan, she rose back to her hooves and shook the grass from her coat. She needed to find something more active to do. As Spitfire left the park, she cast an annoyed look at the terrestrial ponies that surrounded her.

‘How do you ponies live without wings?’ she wondered, gritting her teeth in frustration.

She wandered through the city for a while longer, noting a couple of promising venues for Wednesday, before ultimately making her way back to the Manehattan stadium. The security ponies guarding the staff entrance immediately recognized Spitfire and let her pass without interruption.

As she trotted through the concrete hallways, she couldn’t help but smile when the familiar sounds of arguing drifted to her ears. It probably wasn’t a good sign for her long term mental health that she enjoyed this sort of thing. Pushing her way through a set of wooden doors that led to a large conference room where the team held their meetings, she found herself suddenly the focus of attention.

“Boss!” Misty exclaimed loudly, tackling Spitfire to the ground before the poor mare had a chance to react. “You gotta save us boss!”

“Misty…ow…” Spitfire cringed as she disentangled herself from the canary-colored mare. “Save you from what now?”

“Screw them, save me!” Rapid shouted from his position at one end of a conference table. Soarin’, directly opposite of him, sported a wicked smile.

“Heya Boss!” Soarin’ smiled at her quickly before returning his attention to Rapidfire.

“Oh-kay. I think I’m missing some vital details,” Spitfire mused out loud.

“Tomorrow is media day,” Soarin’ explained. “Misty, Fleetfoot, and Rapid drew the short straws.”

“Ah,” Spitfire clucked, an amused smirk teasing the corners of her mouth. Media day was the worst of all the off-season days for the team: a full twelve hours of interviews and photo shoots. Nopony on the team liked it, though some were certainly more…dramatic than others.

“P-please boss, you gotta save us,” Misty mewled, her bottom lip quivering and her eyes swimming in unshed tears.

Spitfire groaned and pressed a hoof to her forehead. “Misty, stop the waterworks. It’s not nearly as persuasive as it used to be.”

Misty sighed and flopped onto her belly. “Killjoy,” she pouted.

“Yup, that’s why I get paid the big bits,” Spitfire boasted, patting Misty’s head gently.

“I did it last year though,” she moaned like a filly faced with the prospect of visiting an antique store. “Make Blaze do it.”

“Come on, Spits, I’m your brother!” Rapid pleaded from across the room. “Pretty please?”

“Medical leave, not my problem,” Spitfire smiled. “Besides, Soarin’s the boss now. Kiss his plot, not mine.”

“Aww,” Rapidfire pouted, “but … but his plot is s—”

“Finish that sentence and I will sell your pinions to the local library,” Soarin growled.

“For pete’s sake,” Spitfire groaned. “By the power vested in me as Captain emerita, I now pronounce you two husband and wife.” She waved her hoof at them in a blessing manner.

Misty burst into giggles at Spitfire’s hooves while Soarin’ and Rapidfire exchanged an uncomfortable look. Their silence only lasted until Rapid’s trademark smirk emerged.

“I call husband!” he grinned, winking at Soarin’.

“I’m bigger than you,” Soarin’ leered, ignoring the burst of giggles from the two gutter-brained mares in the room.

“Yeah, but you’re soft like a mare,” he smiled back.

The larger stallion was taken aback momentarily until he hit upon an idea. He leaned to the side in a relaxed posture, flashing Rapid his most demure smile and bedroom eyes.

The shift in his attitude left Rapidfire suddenly very uncomfortable.

“Oh honey,” Soarin’ purred in a voice that seemed factory-built to make mares swoon, his wings relaxing into a low, halfway open posture that pegasi generally displayed at moments of intimacy. “Be a dear and help me, just this once?”

Spitfire nudged Misty, who was transfixed by the scene in front of her. “Go get a camera, right now. This is gonna be hilarious,” she whispered.

“Get it yourself; I’m actually enjoying the show,” Misty shot back.

Spitfire rolled her eyes, but didn’t press the issue. She wasn’t about to miss how this ended. Soarin’ sauntered his way over to Rapidfire, who had unfortunately wedged himself in the corner of the room and had a look on his face that was roughly akin to a trapped mouse with an approaching cat.

“C-come on now, Blue.” He held up his hooves in surrender. “We can talk about this.”

Soarin’ didn’t stop as he encroached into Rapid’s personal space. Rapidfire squeaked uncomfortably when the larger stallion wrapped a foreleg around his shoulders and pulled him close. Soarin’ started to speak again, but was interrupted when Rapidfire planted a big wet kiss right on his lips.

“Gah!” both stallions recoiled, Soarin’ leaping away like he’d been burned.

“Celestia’s great flaming teats... Dude, what was that!?” Soarin’ yelled, frantically trying to scrape the taste off his mouth.

“Oh stick a sock in it. I was just calling you on your bluff,” an equally-miserable Rapidfire answered.

“Uhg, didn’t your mother ever teach you to brush your teeth?”

“Hey now, you’re no prize either! That apple pie isn’t nearly as good from this end.”

“I will give you five hundred bits to do that with tongue!” Misty interjected between fits of laughter.

“A thousand if you do it on camera,” Spitfire added.

“What kind of sister are you?” Rapidfire stared flatly at his twin.

“Hey, you kissed him all on your own.” She sniffled melodramatically and wiped a fake tear from her eye. “I’m so proud.”

Rapidfire glowered at the mare for a moment before exchanging a look with Soarin’. Both stallions smirked, finding themselves in a rare moment of understanding.

“Alright Spits,” Rapid started, the sentiment earning both mares sudden attention. “I’ll make out with Soarin’ if Misty makes out with you.”

“What?” Misty balked. “Leave me outta this!”

“Where’s the fun in that?” Spitfire asked. “I mean, come on Rapid, I kiss mares on my own time.”

“She’s got a point,” Soarin’ nodded. “Oh! We should get Surprise in on this! She might go for it.”

“Okay... I’m just gonna’ leave now before this gets really creepy,” Misty said, slowly retreating from the room.

An awkward silence settled on the three after Misty left, eventually Spitfire broke it with a chuckle.

“I knew you two would be a cute couple.” She smiled, causing both stallions to groan and slink away from each other.

“I’m thinking divorce sounds good,” Rapidfire grumbled.

“Yeah, irreconcilable differences and stuff,” Soarin agreed.

“Wimps,” Spitfire smirked. “So, the last few minutes notwithstanding, how are things going here?”

“It’s only been a day, sis,” Rapidfire laughed. “Give us time to mess things up a bit.”

“I got bored. Sue me.” She shrugged.

“Hey, I know what I’m doing,” Soarin’ pouted.

“I stopped by to check on you yesterday,” Rapid said as he trotted up to give his sister a hug, which she returned. “Left you a note.”

“I saw. Thanks for taking the uniform to get cleaned. I’ve been meaning to do that,” Spitfire replied.

“So I noticed. What’d you do yesterday? Have any fun?” Rapid asked.

Spitfire found herself hesitating, unsure of exactly how much, or how little to tell them. Suddenly visiting the team no longer seemed like the best idea. Then again, Rapidfire was her brother, and Soarin’ was probably her closest friend. She trusted them both more than any living creature. She couldn’t say she was in a relationship with Rainbow Dash. One date certainly wasn’t enough for that. But Rainbow wasn’t exactly the most subtle pony Spitfire had ever met, and given how active she was in the skies it was only a matter of time before somepony on the team spotted her.

“Yeah…yeah it was a great day.” She used her rear hoof to kick the door closed.

“Okay, spill it. What happened?” Rapidfire eyed her knowingly.

“Well, I kinda… Ok, you two need to keep this a secret for now; especially from Blaze and Fleetfoot.”

“Huh?” Soarin’s face scrunched in confusion.

“Yesterday I wasn’t in my hotel ‘cause I was hanging out with Rainbow Dash,” Spitfire confessed in a mumble, her words flowing together so quickly that it was difficult to tell them apart.

Both Rapidfire and Soarin’s jaws fell open.

“She’s in town!?” Rapid exclaimed, a massive grin spreading across his.

“Yeah, she’s running the weather team here for a couple months,” Spitfire explained.

“That’s awesome!” Soarin’ grinned.

“Yeah, I’m meeting her again tomorrow.”

Rapidfire’s excitement quickly turned to concern. “Like, ‘hangout’ meet, or ‘date’ meet?”

“Uh…”

“Oh no. Spits…” He put his head in his hooves. Soarin’ just shook his head.

“Hey, it’s not like I haven’t dated a mare before.”

“Yeah, but this isn’t just any mare,” Soarin’ pointed out.

“Arcus will have a bird when he finds out,” Rapid noted blithely. Spitfire rolled her eyes. “Would it have killed you to keep out of trouble just once?”

“Alright look, first of all, it’s just a date. To the casual observer it would just look like two ponies having dinner and talking. Second, it’s not like I’m gonna sing a sappy love song in a karaoke bar then stick my tongue in her mouth and ask for her hoof in marriage. Thirdly, neither of us are in town for more than a couple of months, so I’ll be surprised if this lasts to a third date. Either way, I know what I’m doing. So can it, Rapid.” Spitfire said through gritted teeth.

Rapidfire locked eyes with his sister for a long moment before he let out a sigh and pulled her into another hug. “I just don’t wanna see you get hurt again.”

Spitfire returned the embrace, her mind drifting to unhappy memories.

“Never again,” Spitfire muttered. “I’ll never let that happen again.”

A Night to Remember

Of all the words that Rainbow Dash would ever have used to describe herself, ‘nervous’ would not have been her first choice. Awesome? Sure. Fast? Definitely. Egghead? Only in the privacy of her home…well, except for that one time. Nervous was a relatively new one.

It wasn’t like the Best Young Flyers competition, where stage fright and her own fear of failure had reduced her to a quivering mess; that had been a bit different. This was dating, not just dating, but dating another mare who just happened to be her personal hero! It didn’t particularly help that Rainbow’s only experience to look back upon was a one-off fake date with Fluttershy when the two were younger. And calling that day a date was a stretch that even Blossomforth would have problems with. As much as Rainbow normally liked making things up on the fly, this wasn’t a normal situation, and her lack of experience made her very nervous.

“What if I say something stupid? What if I make a total fool out of myself?” Dash fretted while she paced anxiously in front of the diner. She eventually forced herself to sit at one of the empty tables before she paced a trench into the sidewalk.

“Chill out Rainbow,” she told herself. “You can handle this. You’re too cool to let a date freak you out. Just act natural and everything will work out fine.” It was a desperate attempted to reassure herself. She gulped hard and waited. In hindsight, showing up half an hour early was a poor decision.

Dash did her best to hold still and look casual—not an easy feat given her natural propensity for activity. She sighed and tapped her hoof against the table impatiently. Her wings flexed at her sides and she had to force herself to stay on the ground.

She tried to distract herself by watching the various ponies moving through the endless crowds of Manehattan. Earth ponies, unicorns, and the rare pegasi trotted from place to place, many engaged in conversations with their walking acquaintances. She observed ponies of all colors with every style of mane—far more diverse than the pastoral town she called home. She wondered if any of the ponies that passed were different, like her and Spitfire.

Different.

Her ears sagged slightly. Her desires had been a personal source of consternation for years. It wasn’t the fact that she was attracted to other mares that bothered her, but the fear of being rejected by the ponies she cared about. She wondered if bearing the Element of Loyalty added to her worries. Having to end her friendship with Gilda still hurt, even though she was fully aware that the griffon had been nothing but possessive and cruel to all her other friends. Rainbow knew it had been the right thing to do, but being right didn’t make it any easier.

She couldn’t imagine what she would have done if her Dad had rejected her when she came out to him. It wasn’t a thought she wanted to entertain, much like how she would react if she came out to her friends back home and they rejected her. The five of them were the best friends Rainbow ever had. Losing even one of them would be a devastating blow.

Rainbow blew a wayward strand of mane from her eyes. Fluttershy already knew her secret, and was for all intents and purposes a sister to Rainbow. Pinkie was… well, Pinkie. Predicting that mare was about as easy as predicting an earthquake, but Rainbow was pretty sure Pinkie didn’t know how to dislike anything (parasprites notwithstanding).

Rainbow didn’t think Twilight would realistically have a problem with it; she might want to run an experiment or something, but Dash didn’t think she would hate her for it. At least she really hoped the unicorn wouldn’t; that would be quite the downer. She enjoyed hanging out with the obsessive-compulsive mare.

Rarity and Applejack were the real wildcards in her circle of friends. Rarity was a fairly progressive mare; she had to be just to keep up in the fashion industry. Rainbow had heard that nearly every male fashion designer was a coltcuddler, which meant that, at least in theory, Rarity would have to be ok with homosexual ponies. Still, Rainbow wasn’t willing to bet her friendship on things she’d heard from the more gossip-oriented employees she managed on the Ponyville weather team.

Applejack worried Rainbow the most. The ornery farmer was one of the best friends Rainbow ever had, not to mention she was the only pony with a competitive streak that rivaled Rainbow’s own. From horseshoes to the Iron Pony competition, Applejack was the only pony that could not only keep up with Rainbow, but also push her to challenge herself. Well, at least when Rainbow allowed her wings to be tied.

Rainbow groaned again, wishing she had brought a book or something. She wasn’t good at being idle; it gave her too much time to think of the ways she could screw up her life, usually with her own big mouth. She shifted in her seat and flexed her wings; her feathers were starting to itch. Rainbow glanced around the street, wondering if anypony would care if she discreetly preened herself. Not seeing any pegasi milling about, or anypony that looked remotely interested in her little corner of the world for that matter, she stretched out her left wing and began the meticulous process of preening.

She lost herself in the process; painstakingly tugging the misaligned feathers back into place one at a time. After the itch in her left wing was dealt with, she shifted her attention to her right wing. After ensuring her primary and secondary feathers were aligned correctly, she moved on to her covert feathers. Finding one of the feathers that was loose she gently bit down on it and gave it a little tug. The momentary sting of the feather being pulled quickly evaporated. Her ears perked when she heard Spitfire’s voice chuckling softly.

“Having fun?” the older mare asked with a smirk, having difficulty restraining a laugh as Rainbow’s wing lowered, revealing her caught-in-the-act expression, complete with a freshly plucked feather in her mouth.

The weather mare spat the feather out and laughing sheepishly, a hoof rubbing at the back of her head. “Uh, y-yeah! Of course!” She grinned. “How’ve you been?”

“Ooh, I’m doing pretty good, thanks.” Spitfire smiled and sat beside Rainbow, giving her a friendly hug in the process, which Rainbow happily returned. “So, ready to go?”

“Sure! Where are we going? I’ll pay this time. Um, as long as it’s not too expensive.” Rainbow’s cheeks flushed in embarrassment. Spitfire wrapped a foreleg around the weather mare’s shoulders.

“Rainbow, I bought dinner Monday night because I wanted to and I could. I don’t want you to feel like you owe me anything for it, okay? It was a gift, and I don’t give gifts expecting anything in return.” She smiled. “Besides, if I did, then it would be a trade, not a gift.”

“I suppose,” Rainbow replied softly.

Spitfire gave her another light hug before hopping off the chair. “Come on, Dash, let’s grab some food and have some fun!” The Wonderbolt grinned.

Rainbow couldn’t help but smile back as she hopped off her seat and stood at Spitfire’s side. “I’m with you.”

The pair walked quietly for a while, inspecting various menus taped to the windows of small diners along the way. They settled on a nice sandwich shop at which Rainbow was elated she could afford to pay for both their meals. Spitfire insisted she didn’t have to, but she did relent to the younger mare’s insistence on paying. She couldn’t deny that it was nice to see Rainbow smiling so genuinely.

“So, how’s the weather team going?” Spitfire asked after they had ordered.

“Depends who you ask.” Rainbow chuckled. “The lightning wranglers are thrilled to be getting help after all this time; the cloud pushers are mad that I’m making them learn a whole new style of cloud handling and that I’m training ponies from their ranks for lightning certification, and the rain teams are largely glad they don’t have to spend so much time helping the cloud pushers anymore.”

Spitfire glanced up at the sky while Dash explained. The clouds were close enough to provide wide areas of shade with minimal wind drift. Additionally, she had to admit they were quite lovely to see up close. She couldn’t help but notice the irony in her life. She was a pegasus, born and raised in a literal city of clouds, but she had never really stopped to admire them.

“So, how’s your week going so far?” Rainbow’s question snapped Spitfire back to reality.

“Boring for the most part,” she noted drably. “Though on the plus side, I’ve had a lot of time to walk around and find places we can check out after dinner.”

“Oh yeah? Like what?” Rainbow asked.

“There’s a club in midtown that has an open mic night every Wednesday from six to midnight. I figured we could check that out and see what happens.” Spitfire smiled.

“What’s the worst that could happen?” Rainbow giggled.

“Oh Celestia, never say those words aloud.” Spitfire grinned. “It’s just begging for the universe to do something horrible to us.”

“I guess it’s a good thing you’ve got me here to protect you then.” Rainbow winked while polishing her hoof on her chest.

“Oh, my hero!” Spitfire said in a singsong manner, batting her eyelashes.

Their sandwiches were delivered fairly quickly, after which they ate in companionable silence. Spitfire took the time to think. She liked Rainbow; just on a personal level they had similar interests. They were both action-oriented mares with a deep love of flight and speed. They had common taste in food, music, and entertainment, not to mention a talent for dirty jokes.

All of that made Spitfire nervous. She didn’t want another heartbreak, nor did she have any desire to break another pony’s heart, especially when that pony was a top candidate to join the Wonderbolts in the not too distant future. Perhaps it would be best for both of them if they agreed to just be friends. If she headed off the issue there, then neither of them would risk getting their feelings hurt later. She took another bite of her sandwich to avoid a sigh. That talk could wait until later in the evening. She was committed to at least giving Rainbow a nice second date.

After they had finished their meals, and Rainbow had left a few bits for a tip, the pair made their way downtown, Spitfire leading the way. Eventually, their walk ended outside of an older-looking building. The red brick that made its walls was thoroughly worn down from decades of wind and rain. The heavy wooden doors were painted forest green and a simple sign affixed to the door on the right simply read ‘The Cider House’. The door on the left had a broadside poster that detailed the establishment’s hours and advertised the open mic night every Wednesday. Spitfire pulled the door open and motioned Rainbow in with a smile.

Inside, the building glowed with a dim, golden light that reflected off the dark wooden surfaces of the bar and tables. The wood of the tables, chairs, and even the top of the bar was worn to a smooth polish from decades of use. At the far end of the room was a stage with a modest speaker set up and several microphone stands. The jukebox filled in the dead air between performers.

Rainbow’s ears perked from the sound. “I know this song!” she exclaimed happily.

Spitfire raised an eyebrow curiously. “Really? Who is it?” she asked as they found an unoccupied table not too far from the stage.

“It’s a combined griffon and Pegasus band that my Dad is a big fan of,” Rainbow giggled. “He used to give me piggy-back rides and dance around the house before bedtime with this song playing,” she admitted with a blush.

“Aww, that’s adorable!” Spitfire grinned at the massive blush spreading over Rainbow’s face. Though as she listened to the lyrics, she couldn’t help but blush slightly as the implications.

“Come on baby finish what you started,” the chorus sang.

“I’m incomplete!” called the lead singer.

“That ain’t no way to treat the broken hearted,” the chorus responded.

“Come on and finish me!” called the lead singer just before the song broke into a spirited lead section.

Spitfire returned her attention to Rainbow. “This song is so messed up.” She snickered.

“That’s the fun part.” Rainbow grinned.

“Your Dad must have a great sense of humor if he let his baby girl listen to this.” Spitfire nudged the weather manager’s ribs. “No wonder you like the stuff you do.”

“What can I say,” Rainbow shrugged nonchalantly, “I’m just Daddy’s little squirt.”

“That is so wrong.” Spitfire groaned, putting her head in her hooves and laughing in spite of herself.

“Sorry, I couldn’t resist.” Rainbow giggled as she patted Spitfire’s back.

“Just for that,” Spitfire got to her hooves, “I’m buying the drinks.”

Rainbow blushed again, but didn’t make a fuss. Spitfire disappeared to the bar only long enough to order two pints of cider which she returned with in short order.

“I hope you don’t mind non-alcoholic.” Spitfire smiled sheepishly.

“Works just fine for me, thanks!” Rainbow gratefully accepted her drink with her front hooves.

Spitfire smiled back and took her seat beside Dash. The next performers had taken to the stage, a pair of griffons with acoustic guitars sat on stools in front of two microphones. They talked quietly while they made sure their instruments were in tune. One looked to be middle-aged, with greyish-brown fur and white feathers on his head. The other looked to be at least a few years younger, though his colors reminded Rainbow of Gilda. She nudged Spitfire’s ribs discreetly and leaned closer to her.

“Do a lot of griffons play music in Manehattan?” she asked quietly.

“Surprisingly, yeah.” Spitfire nodded. “I guess the competition back in the Griffon kingdom is very tough for small-time musicians, so a lot of them tour Manehattan, Baltimare, and Las Pegasus.”

“That’s cool.” Rainbow grinned. Both mares turned their attention to the stage as the older griffon strummed a minor chord on his guitar, signaling the start of the duo’s set.

His talons began to pick a melancholy pattern across the strings. The younger griffon muted his guitar with his palm, his eyes closed as he listened to the song. Rainbow frowned slightly, which Spitfire was quick to notice.

“Don’t like it?” she asked.

“No no, it’s great.” Rainbow smiled lightly. “It’s just, I don’t know … a really sad song.”

Spitfire couldn’t help but nod. There was a certain melancholy to the song that she couldn’t quite put her hoof on, like a lonely soul struggling to find its place in the world. The griffon repeated his pattern only once, letting the last note ring for several long seconds before he began to play a different song.

This time he strummed more upbeat chords, his companion adding flourishes on top of the older griffon’s rhythm. The interplay continued for just over a minute before the two strummed the chords in unison and the older griffon began to sing.

Rainbow found herself relaxing more than she thought possible. There was just something pleasant about the whole situation, something that made her feel comfortable—like she didn’t need to hide who she was or reign in what she liked so other ponies could keep up with her. At some point, Spitfire wrapped a foreleg around Rainbow’s shoulders, lightly pulling her closer. Rainbow leaned her head against Spitfire’s shoulder; for once, she didn’t care how many ponies saw, or what they thought.

Eventually the griffons finished their set and yielded the stage to the next performers. Poets, solo musicians, and other small acts made up the bulk of the evening. Some were very good, others were terrible, most were at least entertaining. Around eleven O’clock, when things seemed to be winding down, Spitfire turned to the mare resting on her shoulder and gave her a gentle nudge.

“Hm?” Rainbow sat up and stretched a bit.

“Wanna go for a walk?” Spitfire asked.

“Sure.” Rainbow smiled.

The two left a few bits on the table for a tip, then trotted for the door. The streets had quieted significantly since they had entered the club earlier. Gas lanterns lit the streets with only scattered groups of ponies traveling them.

“So, where should we go?” Rainbow asked.

Spitfire hummed softly while she thought. “I’ve got an idea. Follow me.”

Rainbow nodded, keeping pace with her date for the walk through town. She didn’t ask Spitfire where they were going; she trusted the Wonderbolt knew what she was doing. The two walked for nearly half an hour before arriving in the same park Spitfire had been lounging at the prior day. Spitfire led Dash to the hilltop she had cloud-watched from and invited her to sit.

“So, Dash,” Spitfire started, her voice soft, eyes watching the starry sky. “What do you think about, this?” She waved her hoof between them.

Rainbow thought it over for a few minutes, her ears folding back slightly.

“Honestly, it’s been amazing!” She smiled. “It’s just—well, I don’t know. I’ve never done this kind of stuff before.” She sighed and ran her hoof through her mane. “I’ve got no idea if I’m doing any of this right, but it’s been the most fun I’ve had in a long time.”

Spitfire nodded. “Hey, Rainbow? Can I ask you a kind of personal question?”

“Totally,” Rainbow answered.

“You mentioned the other day that only your Dad and your one friend knew you liked mares. Why haven’t you come out to anypony else?” she asked softly, maintaining unwavering eye contact.

Dash hoofed at the grass uncomfortably for a minute. “I—well… I guess... I guess I’m scared.” she whispered.

“Scared of what?” Spitfire asked, her brow furrowing in confusion.

“It’s stupid.” Rainbow sighed. “But I’m scared of what my friends might think of me if I came out to them. I’m scared to lose their friendship.” She laughed bitterly, tears stinging at her eyes. Spitfire wrapped a foreleg around her shoulders; it hadn’t been that long ago that she had been in a similar situation.

“I know what it’s like, Dash. I’ve been there too.” She offered a reassuring smile.

Rainbow laughed softly. “You know what’s pathetic? When I came out to my Dad, I begged him to make me normal. And when he told me I wasn’t broken, I asked him why I had to be different. Why couldn’t I just be normal?” She laughed sadly, a few stray tears escaping her eyes.

“I’m sorry,” she managed after a moment, having calmed herself. “I’m so sorry.”

“Hey, there’s nothing to be sorry about, Dash.” Spitfire smiled. “I’ve been there too; I know what it’s like to get burned by friends who weren’t okay with us being different. And it hurts like buck for a long time. But I promise you, it gets better after a while.”

Rainbow nodded mutely, not entirely believing Spitfire.

“Let me tell you a story, Dash,” Spitfire started. “A long time ago, when I was still a filly, I knew there was something different about me. I would play with my brother’s toys, I would read his comics, and I would play with his friends. When I got older, I started to notice that other mares would talk about colts and dress up and make themselves look all prancy, and gossip about celebrities. I had no interest in any of those things.

“I thought that if I just tried really hard, I could be normal, so I did everything I could to be like every other filly my age. I would get dressed up, I would wear makeup, I’d get my mane styled, all that girly junk. The more I tried to fit in, the more I realized it wasn’t working.” She smiled sadly. “All the other girls talked about how amazing it was, kissing and foreplay and sex. But I didn’t get any of that with my first coltfriend. I told myself it was because he wasn’t the right colt for me, so the next colt I dated, I tried again. I still felt nothing. So I pretended that it was because I just wasn’t into sex.” Spitfire sighed, a distant look forming in her gaze.

“Then one day, I was at a party with some friends, and someone bet me and this other mare to kiss. Well, I’d had some hard cider and I was in a good mood, so I walked over and planted a big old wet one right on her lips.” Spitfire smirked at the memory while Rainbow suppressed a giggle. “Suddenly all those things that my friends had told me about for years made sense. It was hot, it felt good, and I enjoyed every second of it.

“I realized then, that I was a fillyfooler, and I started to experiment in secret with marefriends. My brother found out by accident, and he helped me come out to my parents.” She deliberately left out some of the more dramatic details.

“How did they take it?” Rainbow asked softly.

Spitfire chuckled quietly. “Dad didn’t care as long as I was safe; Mom cried because Rapid knew before she did.”

Rainbow nodded, quietly leaning against Spitfire. For a time, neither of them spoke, both lost in their own thoughts.

Rainbow broke the silence first.

“Hey Spitfire?” she asked quietly.

“Yeah, Dash?”

“Thanks... for telling me that, I mean.” She smiled up to Spitfire, who smiled back kindly.

“No problem, Dash,” she answered, giving the weather manager a light squeeze.

“Hey, um…can I ask you something else?” Rainbow asked nervously.

“Sure, what’s on your mind?” Spitfire inquired.

“If um, if this becomes something more…I dunno, serious. What would happen when I apply to the Wonderbolts?”

Spitfire raised an eyebrow, surprised by the question. “Well, I’d have to recuse myself from the process, regardless of if we were dating or not. Either way, it wouldn’t give you a free pass, or even an easier one.”

To Spitfire’s surprise, Rainbow smiled broadly. “Awesome,” she beamed.

“Hm?” Spitfire tilted her head, confused.

“I’m gonna be a Wonderbolt someday,” Rainbow stated confidently. “But I’m gonna get it because I earned it, not because it was a gift!”

Spitfire couldn’t help but grin. “That’s the spirit!”

Rainbow giggled and rubbed the back of her head.

A question popped into Spitfire’s head as she observed the innocuous act. “Hey, Dash, mind if I ask you a question?”

“Sure thing,” Rainbow answered.

“What’s it like to pull off a rainboom?”

Rainbow opened her mouth to answer, only to snap it back shut. Nopony had ever asked her to describe the rainboom before, and she had never really thought of it in conversational terms.

“Well…” she drawled. “It’s um…it’s like... Hmm.” She rubbed her chin with her foreleg.

Spitfire smirked at the sheer intensity on Rainbow’s face as she struggled for the words she wanted. Finally she seemed to hit upon an idea, her posture perking up noticeably. What Spitfire didn’t expect was for Rainbow to crouch low and spread her wings.

“Hop on my back,” she said with a smile.

“What for?” Spitfire asked, quirking an eyebrow skeptically.

“Just trust me, please?” Rainbow asked, her magenta eyes silently pleading Spitfire.

Spitfire sighed and nodded slowly, hoping she wouldn’t regret this. She carefully climbed onto Rainbow’s back, hooking her legs around the weather manager’s core.

“Sweet Celestia, what do they feed you ponies in Ponyville? You’re like, all muscle,” Spitfire marveled. She could quite literally feel Dash’s heart fluttering in her chest.

“I practice a lot,” she mumbled. “Hold on tight.”

Spitfire managed a nod before Rainbow leapt into the skies. The Wonderbolt had longed to be back in the skies, though this certainly hadn’t been the method in which she had expected to get there. She held onto Rainbow as tightly as she could, burying her nose in the mare’s mane. Their acceleration came to an abrupt stop several miles above the city. Spitfire could feel the cool tradewinds running over her coat and feathers. Her wings longed to feel the air in her feathers, and only the sharp pain in her right wing kept her head in the reality of her situation.

“Alright,” Rainbow called. “Hold on tight. Here we go!”

Rainbow went into a steep dive, gathering speed at an alarmingly-fast rate. Spitfire held on for dear life, never having experienced acceleration of this magnitude before. The wind roared in her ears, deafening her to all but the sound of her own racing heart. Rainbow’s wings pumped furiously, drawing them near-vertically downwards, her body going rigid as she stacked speed on top of speed. Spitfire felt her eyes stretch wide at the sight of the mach cone forming. A shudder ran through her frame, primal fear seizing her limbs. If Rainbow lost control, they would both be sent careening into the night sky, and while Rainbow could still fly, Spitfire’s odds were decidedly less optimistic.

She clung tighter to Dash, her eyes mere slits against the buffeting wind. She forced herself to look to the tip of the cone. That’s when she saw it. It was a tiny light, barely the size of a pinhead and brilliantly white. She couldn’t look away, no matter how hard she tried nor how badly the wind stung her eyes. The cone enclosed around them, drawing tighter and lengthening, the prick of light ahead of them shining brighter. After what seemed like hours, but proved only mere seconds, there was a brilliant flash, and the world disappeared into a veil of white. Spitfire’s jaw dropped, her eyes staring into the void.

Time seemed to stop; the world seemed to no longer exist outside of her and Rainbow. The two of them were alone, lost in a silent sea of white. Cracks formed in the light, brilliant colors seeping through the imperfections. With a deafening crack, the light spectrum shattered before her very eyes and their speed increased exponentially. The city blew past them in a blur of colors, midtown, lowtown, and the outer boroughs passing under them in seconds, brought alight with the polychromatic wave trailing the two mares. The urban sprawl of modern development gave way to the suburban outer city as Spitfire gripped Rainbow in a sort of daze, hardly aware of her surroundings. The buildings below them quickly became fewer and farther apart as they left the Manehattan city limits and entered the rural countryside dominated by massive tracts of farmland and small patches of forest.

Eventually, Rainbow flared her wings, catching the gentle winds to slow her and the stunned mare upon her back. It only took a moment to bring them down to more to a reasonable pace, one that was more enjoyable than exhilarating. She slowed them to a near-stop and set down on a hilltop several miles out of the city.

The faded roar of the wind still echoed in Spitfire’s ears—her eyes stung from the lack of goggles, and her heart pounded in her chest as she gasped for every breath.

Spitfire stumbled off of Rainbow’s back like a newborn foal. Her body trembled uncontrollably as she stared, mouth agape, at the now-distant city. A rainbow trail hung suspended over Manehattan, the clouds over the city deformed from the sudden burst of energy. Spitfire slowly turned to Rainbow Dash; the young mare was watching her nervously. She took a trembling step towards Rainbow before throwing her forelegs around Dash’s chest. For the first time in years, Spitfire sobbed.

Rainbow started to panic until Spitfire looked up to her, a smile on her lips.

“Th-thank you, Dash,” she managed with an overwhelmed laugh. “Thank you so much.”

Cause & Effect

Several hours after experiencing the rainboom, Spitfire and Rainbow Dash remained on the hill where they had landed. Spitfire’s joyous tears had long since dried, as had Dash’s chest. Soon after, the both of them had laid side by side on their backs to watch the night sky.

For a while they reclined in silence, simply listening to the gentle whistling of the wind through the grass and the soft chirp of the crickets. Spitfire’s hoof found its way over to Rainbow’s, gently resting on top of it. The weather manager blushed lightly from the contact, her head turning to face the Wonderbolt.

“Hey, Spitfire?” She asked quietly.

“Yeah Dash?” Spitfire turned her head to face Rainbow.

“Where are we going with, um, this?” She motioned between them with her free hoof.

Spitfire took a breath and hummed quietly. “Honestly Dash, I have no idea,” she replied quietly. “And to be honest, that kinda frightens me.”

Rainbow scoffed. “I can’t imagine anything really frightening you. You’re a Wonderbolt!”

Spitfire chuckled. “We’re just normal ponies, Dash, and everypony is afraid of something. My brother, Rapid, is terrified of spiders Soarin' can’t stand deep water, and Misty won’t get within ten meters of a clown. We’ve all got our own issues.”

Rainbow nodded in understanding.

“So," Spitfire turned to Dash. "What are you afraid of?”

“I’m…I’m terrified of, well, failing, I guess,” Rainbow conceded softly. “That’s why I got so messed up at the Best Young Flyers competition a couple years ago.”

Spitfire nodded, easily understanding that sentiment.

“What about you?” Rainbow asked.

“Well,” Spitfire sighed as she decided how to phrase it. “Had you asked me four or five years ago, I would’ve said that my biggest fear was snakes.”

Rainbow smirked, recalling Twilight’s reaction to the—admittedly—unsettling reptiles. “But what about now?”

Spitfire remained quiet for several long seconds before she sighed quietly. “After my big breakup a few years ago...” She spoke in a deliberate pace, keeping her voice level. “I was kind of a mess for a while after that. Once I finally crawled out of the slump I was in, I decided that I wouldn’t ever let anypony hurt me like that again.”

Spitfire looked into Rainbow’s eyes so the younger mare wouldn’t misunderstand her. “What I’m afraid of, Rainbow, is falling in love with another pony who’s only going to break my heart again.”

Rainbow nodded slowly, understanding at least to some degree how the Wonderbolt felt. “What was her name?” Dash asked quietly.

Spitfire sighed, her eyes drifting to the night sky. “Zephyr,” she answered, her voice scarcely more than a whisper.

“What was she like?” Rainbow asked, hoping she wasn’t pressing Spitfire for too much information.

Spitfire smiled nostalgically. “Well, she was a pretty quiet girl when we first met, which was back in high school. Shy, kind, bit of a bookworm, and she had a beautiful singing voice.”

“What does she do?” Rainbow asked curiously.

“Well, I don’t know what she does now,” Spitfire answered wistfully, “but when we were together, she was a teacher for primary school.”

“She sounds like she was a great mare,” Rainbow concluded with a gentle smile.

Spitfire nodded. “She was.”

Rainbow let the silence between them linger for a few long moments while she collected her thoughts. “Hey Spitfire?” she asked gently.

“Yeah Dash?” Spitfire replied, turning her gaze from the sky to her companion.

“Was it worth it?” she asked softly.

Spitfire chortled and smiled brightly to Rainbow. “Totally.”

“So um… where do we go from here?” Rainbow asked. “I mean, I’ve had a blast just hanging around with you! It’s been like a dream come true.” Rainbow smiled brightly to Spitfire. “But, well, I guess I just wanna know if this is something real, or what…” Her voice trailed off timidly.

Spitfire found herself hesitant to answer Rainbow’s question. On one hoof she was genuinely uncomfortable with the idea of a serious relationship again; on the other hoof, Rainbow hadn’t been what she had expected, nor could she recall the last time she felt quite so comfortable on a date. With Rainbow, it was like she didn’t have to be on guard at all times. She didn’t have to watch her language or bite her tongue.

She could make a raunchy joke, she could flirt, and she could be herself. Perhaps it was just a side effect of being relieved of duty while she was recovering, or maybe it was something about Rainbow that made her relax like she did when it was just her and Soarin' or Rapid. Around Rainbow she felt like she didn’t have to be Captain Spitfire, she could just be Spitfire. All things considered, she felt profoundly confused, and it wasn’t a sensation she enjoyed.

Her mouth opened several times to speak, but each time she failed to find the words she needed. Rainbow watched her quietly, the young weather manager’s expression patient and understanding, mostly because her mind was full of a very similar fear and confusion.

‘It’s been so long since I’ve let anypony get this close,’ Spitfire mused to herself. ‘Is it worth getting hurt again? What’s the point if it’s only gonna last a couple months. But…but will it end in a couple months? Does it have to?’

“Honestly, Dash,” Spitfire started slowly, “I have no idea where this is gonna go.” Rainbow nodded slowly, her ears sinking slightly. “But,” Spitfire continued, catching the cyan mare’s attention, “I’m willing to give it a try if you are, just as long as we can be still be friends later if it doesn’t work out.” She smiled to Rainbow.

Rainbow returned the smile happily and nodded. “Definitely!”

“Great!” Spitfire exclaimed.

“So, um… what are you doing Friday?” Rainbow asked hesitantly.

Spitfire put her hoof to her chin and hummed loudly. “Well, I think I’ve got to watch some grass grow in the park, then there’s some paint I could watch dry. Um, let’s see now, what else was there…” She tapped her hoof against her forehead and grumbled loudly.

Rainbow left hoof covered her mouth as did her best to suppress her laughter.

“Oh yeah, a whole lot of nothing!” Spitfire exclaimed happily. “How about you?”

Rainbow folded her forelegs over her chest and pursed her lips. “Well, after I spend the day whipping the cloud pushers into shape and training the new lightning wranglers, then I should have the whole weekend free. Well, barring any weather emergencies.” She gave a little smile.

“Well then,” Spitfire pushed to her hooves with a little grunt, arching her back in leisurely stretch, “how about you meet me outside of my hotel at six and we’ll paint this town red.”

“Sounds like fun to me,” Rainbow agreed, climbing to her hooves as well.

Spitfire smiled, silently cursing the faint blush that was building in her cheeks from the next question she had to ask. “So, Dash…uh, do you mind giving me a lift back home? It’s kind of a long walk from here,” she said with an awkward chuckle.

Rainbow laughed sheepishly as she looked at the distant city of Manehattan. There wasn’t much of a doubt in her mind that if they walked it would be dawn before they made it back to their respective hotels. Rainbow crouched low and spread her wings.

“All aboard the Rainboom Express,” She said with a grin.

Spitfire laughed as she carefully climbed onto Rainbow’s back. “As amazing as it was, I think you might want to avoid a rainboom for this trip; I don’t think the city would appreciate that kind of wake up call at this hour.”

“Yeah… You might have a point there.” Rainbow said hesitantly before taking off with a gentle flap.

As Spitfire nestled herself onto the weather managers back, and an idea popped into her head. Discord himself couldn’t have stopped the grin that spread over her lips as she leaned to Rainbows ear.

“I do love a good slow ride,” she whispered in her most sultry voice.

Rainbow sputtered, losing all sense of coordination. Their flight ended less than ten feet from where it started, with Rainbow facedown in the grass and Spitfire not much further away. The Wonderbolt clutched her sides as she laughed herself senseless.

“Oh wow…” she wheezed, “I—I’m sorry!” Spitfire apologized through fits of laughter.

Rainbow kept her face pleasantly buried in the grass. The cool ground felt quite lovely against the inferno that was burning in her face. Spitfire managed to eventually calm herself down and, after catching her breath, she walked over to Dash and patted her back gently.

“You alright down there?” she asked with a gentle smile.

“Rainbow Dash isn’t here right now,” Rainbow answered with a flop of her hoof. “Please leave a message and she’ll get back to you later.”

Spitfire chuckled as she lay beside Rainbow and nuzzled the younger mare’s head. “Alright then, my message is this.” She pressed her lips to Rainbow’s cheek.

Rainbow’s body went rigid from the contact. She let the kiss linger for several long seconds before she pulled away. Rainbow slowly lifted her head from the ground and gazed at Spitfire. Her cheeks were tinted red as cherries, eyes wide in surprise.

“What?” Spitfire asked with a knowing smile. “If we’re gonna date, I’m gonna do that sometimes.”

Rainbow stared at the Wonderbolt dumbly for a moment, her mind stalled for an intelligent response. Her eyes shifted from left to right as she pondered the statement.

“…Which part?” she asked after a minute.

Spitfire opened her mouth to answer before promptly snapping it shut and considering the question. She had been referring to kissing, but—in fairness—she did have the unfortunate combination of a big mouth and a dirty mind.

“Probably both,” she admitted with a sheepish grin.

Rainbow seemed to weigh the information in her mind before shaking her head with a soft chuckle. After a moment, she climbed up and returned to her crouched position, wings spread.

“Once more, with feeling?” she asked, her cheeks still flushed red.

Spitfire climbed on her back and stole a light nuzzle. “Whenever you’re ready,” the Wonderbolt said when she had a good grip.

This time, Rainbow was able to take off without any unexpected interruptions from her passenger. She flew at a relatively casual speed. She couldn’t go too slowly as she did want to get at least a little sleep before she had to get up for work. Unlike her normal job inPonyville where she could afford to sneak a few naps in during the day, the Manehattan team required her undivided attention. That said, as they flew into the city she realized she didn’t want night to end. Even if Spitfire could mortify her in seven words or less, it just felt good to be around the older mare.

The city below them was fairly dim, only the warm glow of the gas lamps that lined the streets illuminated the ground below. Rainbow spotted a few ponies walking here and there, usually with a companion. For the most part, the city was asleep. All too soon, Dash had arrived at Spitfire’s hotel, and with a palpable feeling of disappointment, she landed in front of the lobby, allowing her passenger to slip off of her back. She shivered slightly as the cool night breeze replaced the older mare’s warmth.

Spitfire slipped beside Rainbow and pulled her into a close hug. “I can’t thank you enough for letting me experience the rainboom, Dash. It was the most amazing thing I’ve ever seen.”

Rainbow blushed brightly as she returned the hug. “You’re welcome.”

Spitfire slowly released Rainbow from her embrace and smiled again. “See you here, Friday at six?”

“I’ll be here!” Rainbow answered happily.

“Great!” Spitfire exclaimed, giving Rainbow one last hug. “Fly home safe.”

Rainbow nodded once, silently holding her regret that the evening had come to its inevitable end. As their hug broke, Rainbow took flight back to her hotel room. The night had left her with a lot to think about.

As for Spitfire, she couldn’t stop smiling as she walked up to her room. The night hadn’t gone at all like she had thought it would, though she couldn’t find much fault with how it had worked out. To her knowledge, she was now the second pony to have experienced a rainboom, albeit from a decidedly second-hoof role.

She made a note to talk to Dash about it more after she had some time to process the experience. It was still so fresh, so vivid, so unreal that she could scarcely believe that she had even been there herself. No pony she had ever dated had left her feeling quite so giddy. Then again, it seemed highly likely that Rainbow was the only pony physically capable of accomplishing such a feat. Spitfire had never heard of acceleration like that, and she certainly wasn’t capable of it on her own, even if her wings were in perfect health.

With a sigh, she flopped onto her bed and relaxed. If she closed her eyes she could almost hear the wind roaring past her ears. She could still see that moment when the barrier shattered. That miniscule instant when the world had turned silent and white. She smiled as she relaxed in her bed, regardless of how things developed between her and Dash, it had been a night she would treasure for the rest of her life.

The next day, Spitfire slept in until nearly ten in the morning. After a quick shower, and another daring raid on the complimentary breakfast in the lobby, she decided to go visit her brother and Soarin' again. She wondered if any of the team had noticed the rainboom last night. She couldn’t imagine that many ponies missed it, but if she was lucky, then perhaps the team had been in one of the clubs and hadn’t seen it.

Spitfire snorted and rolled her eyes. “Fat chance I’m that lucky,” she groused.

With a spring in her step, she trotted to the Manehattan stadium. Upon arrival, she was greeted politely by the earth pony securities guarding the backstage areas. After a quick walk through the halls, she found the entire team assembled in the main meeting room, and in the midst of a debate that, if the look on Arcus’ face was any indication, was rapidly getting heated.

The team had divided into two groups: Soarin', Rapidfire, Misty, Surprise, and Lightning Streak were opposed by Fleetfoot, Blaze, Silver Lining, Fire Streak, High Winds, and Wave Chill. Between them was Arcus, who happened to look up from the papers in front of him and notice Spitfire.

“I’m telling you,” Fleetfoot growled at Soarin', “if she’s in town we need to seize on this opportunity!”

“For the last time, Sargeant,” Soarin' emphasized Fleetfoot’s rank, “that is not going to happen.”

The familiar sound of clashing egos triggered Spitfire to slip back into her command role. With a sharp whistle and a stomp of her hoof, she attracted the attention of everypony.

“Alright, everypony sit down and shut the buck up!” She stalked towards the table.

Everypony at the table, except Arcus and Rapid, shrank in their seats as the former Captain approached. Arcus didn’t bother to hide his smirk. The old pegasus reclined slightly, intent on enjoying the show. Similarly, Rapid looked like he was torn between amusement and terror.

“Now, somepony explain to me exactly what this nonsense is about,” she stated firmly, making eye contact with every Wonderbolt at the table.

“Didn’t you see it last night?” Fleetfoot balked.

“You’re gonna need to be a bit more specific. I see a lot of things in a day,” Spitfire replied dryly.

“The rainboom over Manehattan, around midnight,” Blaze interjected softly.

“I did, but that’s not what I asked. Now, what is all the arguing over?” Spitfire asked.

“If she’s really in Manehattan, then we should find her and ask her directly to teach us the rainboom!” Fleetfoot exclaimed.

“We don’t know if she’s even staying in Manehattan;even if she was, then it’s none of our business,” Soarin' interjected, casting an irritated glare at Fleetfoot.

“It’s totally our business!” Fleetfoot growled. “We can’t keep relying on the same tricks over and over again; we need to step up our game before next season. What would be more spectacular than six Wonderbolts performing six rainbooms for the season opener?”

“Or if we can’t master the rainboom itself, surely we could at least learn some new techniques to incorporate into our practice. It might even improve the show overall.”

“Or we might learn nothing and just alienate the most promising pegasus we’ve seen in years!” Soarin' shot back.

“Okay, that’s enough for now,” Arcus stated flatly. “Everypony take a break, get something to eat, and cool down a bit. Captain, Lieutenant.” He turned to Soarin' and Rapid, “I’ll meet you two in the kitchen. Start another pot of coffee while you wait.”

“Yes sir,” both stallions answered simultaneously, backing out of the room.

Soarin' shot Spitfire a particularly apologetic glare as he passed her. Rapid merely nodded, knowing better than to ask about her date in front of Arcus. Once the doors clicked shut behind them, Arcus motioned for her to have a seat. Spitfire suppressed a nervous gulp and took her seat near the aging stallion.

“Good timing,” he commented softly, his hooves sorting the paperwork in front of him.

“You get what you pay for, sir.” She smiled.

Arcus smiled back and quirked an eyebrow. “So you’re saying that I could’ve prevented years of tardiness by not paying you? I’ll have to remember that trick.”

“…Touché,” she pouted.

“How are you holding up?” he asked.

“Alright. Just bored,” she answered honestly.

“Keeping yourself out of trouble?” he asked, his eyes watching her keenly.

“I do my best,” she replied. “I stumbled into Red Top the other day on accident; managed to get out of that without compromising anything.”

“So I heard. Good job,” Arcus complimented her. “What are you doing to fill your time?”

“Uh, just, you know…walking around the city, catching movies. That sort of thing,” she answered, suddenly getting the familiar feeling that Arcus was a griffon trapped in the body of a pegasus.

“I see,” he said as he nodded slowly. “Is she an earth pony, a unicorn, or a pegasus?”

“Wai—what?!” Spitfire balked, her heart skipping a beat and her face heating up.

“You never speak in vague terms unless you’re hiding something, Spitfire. I taught you that when you first joined the team,” he calmly noted, “which tells me that you’ve either started dating again, or you’re thinking about dating somepony.”

Spitfire fidgeted in her seat, her silence saying everything to him. After a minute, Arcus sighed and rubbed his temple with a hoof. “Just be careful,” he said, his tone gentle and almost fatherly.

“I will, sir,” she answered.

“Before you go,” he continued, “what’s your opinion on the rainboom situation we’ve found ourselves in?”

Spitfire thought about her experience the night before, how overwhelming the sensation had been: the fear, the euphoria. Even now it was still too much to process.

“I don’t know, Arcus.” She sighed. “I think I’m with Soarin' on this one. I’d rather leave Rainbow Dash alone and let her apply in her own time later than accidentally scare her away from us forever.”

“I see. Thank you for your input.” He nodded. “Oh, and please stop by the kitchen and check on Soarin' before you leave. Between your brother, Fleetfoot, and Blaze, I think he might tear his feathers out,” Arcus said with the barest hint of an amused grin tugging at the corner of his mouth.

Spitfire nodded and waited a moment before she got to her hooves and made for the kitchen, her heart racing the whole way there. Arcus was good at his job for many reasons, chief among them being that he was nearly impossible to fool. The popular joke—or rumor—in the locker room said that he used to work for the Equestrian Intelligence Service as an undercover spy. Spitfire tended to believe he was the only one amongst them with the sense to not get hammered during an afterparty. Inebriated Wonderbolts were not known for their ability to keep secrets.

Upon arriving in the kitchen, Spitfire found herself momentarily stunned by the sight that greeted her. Rapidfire was standing on his rear hooves, leaning casually against the kitchen counter. Tucked under his left foreleg was a bag of marshmallows, which he was eating in the slowest, most sultry manner he was capable of, shooting Soarin' his most dashing eyes. Conversely, Soarin' was sitting by the opposite counter by the team coffee pot, which was just starting a fresh brew, and glaring daggers at Rapid.

“What in the actual buck are you two doing?” Spitfire said with a bemused laugh.

“Heya, Spits, want a marshmallow?” Rapid grinned broadly. “I offered Mallow one, but he told me to take a long walk off a short cloud.” Rapid pointed to Soarin' and faked a pout.

“Enjoy your future cavities,” Soarin' grumbled.

“Will you two just buck and get it over with.” Spitfire chuckled.

“Hey, speaking of buckin’.” Rapidfire tossed the bag of marshmallows onto the counter and trotted up to his sister, “how’d your big date go?”

Spitfire blushed and made sure the door was closed tightly before she motioned both Rapid and Soarin' closer.

“Well, um, that rainboom last night?” she started skittishly.

“Did you scare her off that ba—OW!” Rapid yelped as spitfire lightly smacked his shoulder. “Meanie,” he pouted.

“I was riding on her back. She took me through a rainboom,” Spitfire revealed quietly.

Both stallions gasped loudly. Rapid grabbed her shoulders excitedly. “Oh my gosh! What was it like? Was it awesome? I bet it was awesome!”

Soarin' pushed Rapid off of Spitfire, excitement gleaming in his emerald eyes. “What was it like, boss?”

“It was…it was…” Spitfire sighed; words simply couldn’t adequately convey the rainboom. “It was indescribable,” she confessed, “It-It’s like... I don’t know. It’s like nothing I’ve ever experienced before.”

“Whoa,” Soarin' started, the large pegasus practically bouncing in front of her, “cool enough to leave you speechless. That takes talent, boss.” He grinned.

“How does she do it? Do you think she’d actually teach us?” Rapid asked, his excitement nearly palpable.

Spitfire sighed dejectedly and shook her head. “Guys, I… I don’t think there’s another pony alive that could pull off the rainboom. She can accelerate faster than Fleetfoot, and she’s got more raw power then you do, Soarin'.”

“W—what?” Soarin' balked, his whole posture sinking.

“No way,” Rapidfire huffed. “There’s gotta be some trick to it that we can figure out.”

Spitfire laughed bitterly. “No, Rapid. I was on her back, I—“ She paused as both stallions began giggling like young colts. “Oh shut up you perverts.”

“Excuse me?” Rapid laughed. “You’re like, the Princess of the Pervs!”

Spitfire facehooved. She couldn’t deny her own hypocrisy, much as she wanted to. “I was right there,” she sighed. “There was no trick. It was just... her.”

Spitfire suppressed a growl, and waited for the two stallions to get the laughter out of their systems.

“So then, are you two done?” Rapid asked.

“Er...no,” Spitfire answered coyly. “I’m gonna see her again Friday.”

Rapid and Soarin' exchanged a worried look.

“So are you two, like, gonna go steady?” Soarin' asked.

“I…I don’t know. Maybe?” Spitfire kicked at the floor uncomfortably.

“What happens when the rest of the team finds out? I mean, it’s gonna happen someday,” Rapid postulated.

“Fleetfoot and Blaze will get their feathers in a twist,” Soarin' said with an annoyed sigh.

“I’ll deal with them when I have to.” Spitfire rubbed her temple with a hoof.

The prospect of having to argue with Fleetfoot was never a fun idea. The blue-coated mare was one of the most talented and passionate flyers in the team’s history. Unfortunately, she was well aware of her skills, and wasn’t afraid to push the boundaries if she thought she could get away with it. Spitfire tended to tolerate it. At least Fleetfoot had the team’s best interests at heart most of the time, but when it came to Rainbow Dash, Spitfire felt oddly protective.

“Speaking of those two,” Spitfire used the opportunity to change the topic away from her romantic life, “how are you holding up, Soarin'?”

“Uhg,” the stallion groaned. “You can have your job back, I don’t want it.”

Spitfire laughed softly. “Tell you what, why don’t the three of us go hit the bar after quitting time and you can tell me all about it.” Spitfire smiled.

“Who’s buying?” Rapid asked wearily.

“Eh, whoever passes out first,” Spitfire said with a shrug.

“Oh, oh, oh! We should totally bring Silver Lining.” Soarin' giggled.

“He doesn’t drink,” Spitfire pointed out with a smirk.

“Exactly!” Soarin' grinned. “One hard cider and it’s open tap for the rest of us.”

Spitfire patted Soarin'’ on the shoulder and smiled broadly. “I’ve taught you well.”

Allons-y

“Is she here yet?” Rapidfire asked, his hoof tapping the ground impatiently.

Spitfire sighed lightly and resisted the urge to smack her brother. She, along with her brother and Soarin, were sitting together out front of Spitfire’s hotel, awaiting the eventual arrival of Rainbow Dash. Rapid had been annoying Spitfire with some variation of the same three questions over and over again, whereas Soarin had long since fallen into a catatonic state. The sky-blue stallion’s eyes stared blankly through the space in front of him, scarcely aware of the countless ponies that passed the trio by.

Spitfire truly wished she had the same ability to so completely tune out the world.

“Well unless she figured out how to become invisible: then no, I’d say she isn’t,” Spitfire answered with a roll of her eyes.

“Why are we here again?” Soarin asked with a sigh. “I mean, seriously boss, it’s your date, not—” He froze, his eyes nearly bulging out of his head when the realization hit him. “Oh you little…” He mumbled, pressing a hoof to his forehead.

Rapidfire’s face paled as well, his eyes drifting to his sister, who was failing spectacularly at maintaining an innocent look.

“No,” Rapidfire stated flatly.

“No what?” Spitfire asked, her voice cracking as she struggled not to giggle.

“You know perfectly well ‘what’,” Rapidfire growled.

“Hmm...” Spitfire rubbed her chin contemplatively. “Nope, pretty sure I don’t.”

“Mallow and I aren’t going on a double-date with you,” Rapid jerked his hoof in Soarin’s direction.

“Oh, I get it,” Spitfire purred, “you two lovebirds want private quality time.”

Soarin smacked Rapid’s shoulder irritably. “How, in the name of all things sacred, did you not see that one coming?”

“You’re not helping,” Rapid groaned despondently.

“You two are just adorable together,” Spitfire giggled, clopping her front hooves together in excitement.

“There is no ‘we’!” Soarin declared in exasperation.

“Hey now,” Spitfire gave Soarin a playful shove, “Rapid’s a dope, but he’s a good catch.”

“Am I supposed to be offended, flattered, or just creeped out?” Rapidfire asked, his face scrunched in confusion.

“Yes,” Soarin answered.

Rapidfire groaned in exasperation as he pressed his hoof to his forehead and squeezed his eyes shut. “You really are evil.” He lamented, pointing an accusatory hoof at his sister.

“I prefer the term ‘morally flexible’,” Spitfire said with a playful wink and a smirk. “Besides, you both seemed keen on getting dinner with Rainbow when I asked Wednesday night.”

“Alcohol was involved,” Soarin reminded her. “Which means nothing said by anypony counts.”

“Speaking of that,” Spitfire started, abruptly shifting the conversation, “Did Silver Lining have much of a hangover?”

Rapidfire and Soarin exchanged an amused glance. “You might want to avoid the stadium for a few days, Spits,” Rapidfire said flatly.

“That bad, huh?” Spitfire tried not to laugh. “Is he alright?”

“Well he spent most of the night praying to the porcelain God, and he spent all day yesterday nursing the hangover,” Soarin explained with a sigh.

“Heh, poor little featherweight.” She chuckled lightly.

The three Wonderbolts shared a moment of laughter as a familiar rainbow-maned mare landed in front of them. There was only a brief moment where the weather manager didn’t recognize the two out-of uniform pegasi. Whatever greeting Rainbow had rehearsed during her flight from work to Spitfire’s hotel died on her lips once her brain realized exactly who Soarin and Rapidfire were.

Rainbow Dash sputtered out a noise that, Spitfire assumed, had been a concise thought in the moments before she had landed. With a chuckle, Spitfire walked over to the dumbfounded mare and wrapped her foreleg around Rainbow’s shoulders, pulling her into a sidelong hug.

“Right on time, Dash,” Spitfire said with a grin. “You remember Soarin, right?” She pointed a hoof to the light-blue stallion, who waved sheepishly. Rainbow managed a dumb nod. “The dopey one is my brother, Rapidfire,” she finished, pointing to her twin.

Rapidfire gave Spitfire a scowl before puffing out his chest and smirking proudly in Rainbow’s general direction. “Nice to finally meet you, Rainbow.”

“L-likewise,” Rainbow replied, still staring wide-eyed at the two additional Wonderbolts.

“I thought the four of us could get dinner,” Spitfire continued, finding her date’s star-struck reaction highly entertaining, “Then you and I can hang out for the rest of the night and these two lovebirds can get back to doing their thing.” She finished with a nod directed at Rapidfire an Soarin’.

“We are not dating!” Both stallions shouted in exasperation, a flush of crimson spreading over both their faces.

Spitfire leaned close to Rainbow’s ear and whispered: “Totally in denial.”

Rapidfire’s left eye twitched several times before he trotted up to Rainbow and put his hooves on her shoulders. He stared into her eyes with a look of utter seriousness. “You’re too good for her.” He warned, jerking his head in Spitfire’s direction. “Run.”

“Quiet you,” Spitfire said, giving her brother a playful punch in the shoulder.

“Hey,” Rapid protested, “I’m just trying to help!”

“Anyways,” Spitfire said, her tone making it clear that the conversation was over, “I figured since Soarin and I were kinda out of it after the Best Young Flyers competition and we were a bit preoccupied at the Gala, then we could try and make it up to you a bit tonight. Sound good?” She asked, a warm smile gracing her lips.

Rainbow Dash found herself utterly stunned. Of all the things she had expected to see when she had left work, this particular situation hadn’t even entered her mind. She suddenly felt glad she had decided against stopping and buying flowers on her way to the hotel. Firstly, because she wasn’t quite willing to hoof over her tough-pony card just yet, and secondly, she probably would have managed to choke on the flowers after seeing the two additional Wonderbolts.

“Uh… You… Huah… ” Rainbow sputtered after trying and utterly failing to coalesce together a somewhat-organized thought process.

“Great!” Spitfire grinned happily, amused at Rainbow’s muddled state. “I got us reservations at the Café Amaréicain for six-thirty.”

Soarin and Rapidfire exchanged a shocked glance while Rainbow simply looked confused. The Café Amaréicain was one of the more exclusive clubs in Manehattan. Most ponies found it too expensive, and even for those that didn’t, a reservation usually had to be made months in advance. As a team, Acrus had taken them all out there once to celebrate the team’s fiftieth anniversary, and while only he had seen the bill, it didn’t take a royal magister to get an idea of how expensive it had been.

“Can I borrow you for a minute?” Rapidfire asked, even as he hooked a foreleg around her shoulders and pulled her aside so the two could have a moment of privacy.

“What’s up?” Spitfire asked, shooting her twin a glare.

“What in the buck are you doing?” Rapid hissed, keeping his voice low enough so Soarin and Rainbow couldn’t hear.

“Going out to dinner with my idiot brother, my best friend, and a date.” She answered.

“You don’t just take any old date to the Café Amaréicain!” Rapidfire replied. “Hay, nopony goes there unless it’s like a crazy special occasion! How did you even get reservations?”

“I talked to the owner and traded him a couple backstage passes for a table,” Spitfire admitted with a sheepish grin.

Rapidfire hesitated for a moment as he considered the new information. “Does Arcus know you did that?”

“Um... maybe?” She answered with a guilty smile.

“Uhg,” Rapidfire groaned and pressed his hoof to his face. “Are you trying to get fired?”

“It’s not like I’m doing this on the team checkbook!” Spitfire defended, leveling an annoyed glare at her brother. “I promised I’d buy dinner, and I will. And we all get a few backstage passes to give out as we choose. I decided to use mine for this.”

“Spits,” Rapid sighed, “the Café Amaréicain is too expensive, even for you.”

“If I went there every night, yeah,” Spitfire agreed, “but this is a special occasion, so I can swing it.”

Rapid started, his stern look fading into concern. “Spits, don’t...” He paused and sighed. “Don’t you think you might be taking this a bit, I don’t know, fast?”

The ex-captain fidgeted uncomfortably, finding herself unable to look her brother in the eye. “What do you mean?” She asked, not terribly sure she wanted to hear the answer.

“You only started dating her a week ago, and now you’re taking her to one of the fanciest restaurants in town?”

“Well in fairness, she did save my life,” Spitfire argued.

“Two years ago,” Rapid countered.

“Better late than never?” She weakly retorted.

“Spits...” He said as he frowned. “I just don’t want to see you get hurt again.”

Spitfire dug at the sidewalk with her hoof, avoiding her brother’s gaze. Rapidfire felt his heart sink slightly. “Come on sis,” he pleaded softly, “talk to me, please?”

“What’s there to say?” She asked him. “It just feels right so far.”

“Is it really that way, or did going through a rainboom just mess your head up?” Rapid asked quietly.

“The rainboom,” Spitfire let a dreamy sigh escape her lips, “was…”

Rapidfire waited expectantly for her to continue, after it became clear she was lost in her thoughts, he nudged her lightly.

“Was what?” He asked.

“It was just… unreal.” She sighed. “I don’t know.”

“Where are you going with this relationship, Spits?” He asked.

“Look,” Spitfire started with a sigh, “I’m just seeing where things go, and whatever happens, happens.”

“Spits—” Rapid started, his words cut off by his sister’s hoof. Rapid’s posture sagged slightly.

“Rapid, I know you’re worried. Hay, I’d be lying if I said I knew where this was gonna go.” She sighed, subtly glancing over her shoulder to catch a glimpse of Rainbow.

From what she could see, Rainbow was talking about something with Soarin. The weather manager’s posture was rigid with a subtle tremble that was visible primarily in the way her wings quivered at her sides. She was doing her best not to act like a star-struck filly, a gesture that Spitfire couldn’t help but find adorable. Likewise, Soarin was doing his best to keep things casual and chat with her like he was just a normal pegasus. Spitfire reminded herself to thank him later.

With some effort, she returned her attention to her brother. “I’ll never know unless I try, Rapid.”

“Even if it costs you your job? Like, for good this time?” he asked, not bothering to hide the concern in his voice.

Spitfire scoffed, a sad smile tugging at the corner of her lips. “Only one way to find out.”

Rapidfire sighed heavily, pressing his right hoof to his forehead as he squeezed his eyes shut. “You’re an idiot.” He stated flatly.

“Love you too, Rapid,” Spitfire replied, giving him a sidelong hug, which he returned after a moment’s hesitation.

“Come on,” Spitfire said as she turned back to Soarin and Rainbow, “let’s get a move on. I don’t wanna be late and miss our reservation.”

Rapidfire sighed and shook his head. He hung back slightly from the others, allowing them to lead the way to the Café Amaréicain. He watched Spitfire and Rainbow closely, paying particular attention to the subtle ways they interacted.

Spitfire was walking with Rainbow to her immediate left so as to not accidentally bump her injured wing. From where he was walking, Rapidfire could observe the little moments between the two. He noticed the way Spitfire would flick her tail to brush against Rainbow’s; he saw how Rainbow would stretch her wings just enough so that her primary feathers would ever so lightly touch Spitfire’s. The longer they walked, the closer their proximity became, until the two were about as close as they could get without actually touching.

Rapidfire frowned. He wanted to see his sister happy; what pony didn’t want their siblings to be happy, after all? Still, he couldn’t help but feel nervous about the whole situation. Spitfire hadn’t had a serious relationship in years. Casual flings, sure, but not anything that lasted more than a couple of weeks. Rapid sighed and shook his head, barely noticing as Soarin slipped into step beside him.

“Usually you’re way more annoying than this,” Soarin said with an amused tone. “What’s bugging you LT?”

Rapidfire shot a glare to the Wonderbolt’s current Captain. “Just thinking.” He answered honestly.

“About them?” Soarin motioned with his head to the two mares walking ahead of them.

“Yeah,” Rapid answered softly.

“What’s the issue?” Soarin asked, not quite sure how to handle a contemplative Rapidfire.

Rapid sighed and shook his head. “It’s complicated. Spits hasn’t had a serious relationship in years. I don’t wanna see her get hurt.”

“The boss is a big girl,” Soarin pointed out. “She can take care of herself.”

“That’s not the part that worries me,” Rapid continued. “What happens if they get on really well, and then have a nasty breakup? The media scandal will bury her career!”

“Because she dated a national hero?” Soarin asked, not entirely getting Rapidfire’s point.

“No… Well, kinda...” Rapidfire sighed. “If she gets caught dating one of the Elements of Harmony, specifically the one who just happens to be one of the best flier’s of her generation the media will write it up that Spits used Rainbow to advance her career. Then, they’ll say she dumped her when she got bored. Arcus will get too much heat from the sponsors, and Spitfire will be forced to resign in disgrace!”

“That’s a bit… hyperbolic,” Soarin replied, unable to resist a slight smirk.

“Whatever,” Rapidfire huffed in irritation.

“Look,” Soarin started with a sigh, “the boss isn’t a foal; she can take care of herself.”

“I worry. Sue me,” Rapidfire grumbled.

“So do I,” Soarin replied honestly. “So, how’s about this: You and I will do what we do best and watch her back. If this thing goes sideways, we’ll be there for her. If not, then we get to tease her endlessly for being so sappy.”

Rapidfire nearly tripped over his own hooves from the comment. He looked over to Soarin, who had a restrained smirk on his muzzle.

“Mallow, I could almost kiss you,” Rapidfire grinned.

“Try it and your sister becomes an only child,” Soarin answered curtly.

“I love it when you talk dirty,” Rapidfire said with a wink.

Soarin groaned and rolled his eyes.

Casablanca

Walking through the streets of Manehattan during the five o’clock hour on a Friday night wasn’t a prospect that anypony particularly enjoyed. Unicorns and earth ponies had at least learned to tolerate the pervasive intrusion of personal space. Pegasi had the unique ability to avoid the traffic entirely by simply flying to whatever location they needed to be at. However finding the space to land on a crowded sidewalk usually ended up being it’s own special kind of torment.

The irony of just how badly she longed for that specific pain-in-the-flank was not lost on Spitfire as she slowly made her way through the crowds. Rainbow Dash, Soarin’, and Rapidfire dutifully followed her as best they could, though, in fairness, Rapid and Soarin’ could have flown away at any point in the last thirty minutes; Spitfire hadn’t bothered to check.

Rainbow, on the other hoof, had stayed by her side the whole time, irrespective of the difficulties inherent in navigating the crowded streets. Spitfire could see the frustration in the weather manager’s eyes; it flashed like lightning in a distant storm. She could all but feel the burning desire in Dash’s soul to take to the skies and soar to the clouds above, leaving the claustrophobic streets in her wake. Spitfire even felt Rainbow’s right wing bump into her side several times when the smaller pegasus had nearly given in to the desire to fly.

The upside to the whole situation, at least for Spitfire, was the proximity it gave her to Rainbow. For the majority of the walk the two were never more than five to ten inches apart. It had allowed the Wonderbolt ample opportunities to discreetly observe the weather manager’s reactions in detail. Seeing her frustrations so intimately gave Spitfire an even greater appreciation for how patient Rainbow had been. She wasn’t sure that, if their situations were reversed, she would have been able to resist the temptation to take to the air and carry Dash from one end of town to the other.

Spitfire leaned over slightly, giving Rainbow a delicate nuzzle. The small act caused Dash to stumble momentarily, a flush of red blossoming over her cyan cheeks. She made a note to properly thank the younger mare when they weren’t pushing their way through an overcrowded street.

Eventually, their brave and heroic struggle against the nigh insurmountable odds came to an end with the four irritable pegasi standing in front of an unassuming brick building. The entrance was set into a large archway with a finely-crafted metalwork sign mounted over the door. In elaborate letters it read ‘The Café Amaréicain’.

Spitfire smiled as she turned, pleased to see Soarin’ and her brother had stayed close behind them.

“Well,” Spitfire began cheerily, “here we are!”

“Finally,” grumbled Rapidfire.

“Oh quiet, you,” Spitfire chided him playfully. “You’re getting a free meal out of it.”

“Hmm.” Rapid put his hoof to his chin as he pretended to contemplate the situation. “Fair point,” he decided after a moment.

Spitfire shook her head and allowed herself a light chuckle. Without further delay, she trotted up to the door and pulled it open, holding it for Rainbow, Rapid, and Soarin’.

“Ladies first,” she said as her brother and Soarin’ past her.

“Oh such a gentlecolt,” Rapidfire replied in a falsetto voice, making a point of swaying his hips like a mare as he passed Spitfire.

“Discord, smite me now,” Soarin’ mumbled quietly.

“Oh pony up, buddy,” Spitfire said with a smirk.

Inside, the Café Amaréicain was a large and open space. Several dozen round tables filled the hall, each draped with a pristine, white tablecloth. Every table had an ornate floral centerpiece crowned with three poinsettia flowers as well as elaborately folded napkin’s sitting on porcelain bread plates.

There was a large bar area to their immediate right where nearly twenty ponies, mostly unicorns, were enjoying cocktails and chatting about various topics while they waited to be seated. Beside the bar was a small hearth area, complete with several small tables and a large fireplace. In the fireplace itself was a modest log pile resting on an old looking andiron.

Finally, at the far end of the hall, there was a stage platform that stood about shoulder height over the rest of the floor. On it was a grand piano, a modest drum setup, and several other instruments, most of which were currently unattended. For the time being, the only performer was the pianist, a pegasus stallion with a light-grey coat and a two-tone mane that was both neon blue and a very dark bluish-grey. The remnants of polite applause faded completely as the pianist began his next song.

He played a nostalgic melody twice before he leaned towards the microphone and began to sing.

“Making your way in the world today
takes everything you've got.
Taking a break from all your worries
sure would help a lot.
Wouldn't you like to get away?

All those nights when you've got no lights,
the check is in the mail.
And your little angel
hung the cat up by it's tail;
and your third fiance didn't show

Sometimes you want to go
where everypony knows your name,
and they're always glad you came.
You wanna be where you can see,
our troubles are all the same
You wanna be where everypony knows
Your name.”

As he continued his song, Rainbow Dash instinctively took a step back. This wasn’t the kind of place she belonged in. She wasn’t a famous Wonderbolt like Spitfire, Rapidfire, and Soarin’. She wasn’t upscale like Rarity, and she wasn’t the personal protégé of one of the Princesses like Twilight. She was just the weather manager from a backwater town.

Spitfire didn’t miss Rainbow’s nervous reaction, and she quickly stepped up beside the cyan mare and draped her good wing over Rainbow’s back.

“Hey,” Spitfire started in a reassuring voice, “you alright?”

“Y-yeah,” Rainbow answered. “I’ve just never been anywhere like this.”

“Don’t worry about it.” Spitfire gave her a light hug with her wing. “There’s nothing to be intimidated about. Just relax and have some fun.”

Rainbow nodded, though she found herself wondering when she had started turning into Fluttershy. Spitfire’s wing soon left Rainbow’s back, leaving nothing but a rush of cool air in place of its warmth. The former-captain smiled as she trotted to the podium where a teal pegasus with a messy brown mane was occupying himself with a notebook and a quill pen. He quickly noticed Spitfire approach, and after putting his quill down he offered her a welcoming smile.

“Good evening ma’am. Do you have a reservation?”

“Yes,” Spitfire started with an affirmative nod. “It’s under ‘Spitfire’.”

The teal stallion perused his ledger for a moment before finding the name.

“Party of four, correct?” he asked.

“Yup, that’s us,” she replied, waving her hoof to her three companions.

“Very good.” he slipped down from the barstool he had commandeered for a seat as he took four menus under his right wing. “If you’ll all follow me, I’ll show you to your table.”

Spitfire motioned for the others to follow her as she trotted casually after the pegasus. She couldn’t help but notice that this particular stallion was a bit on the short side and kept his tail longer than most other stallions did, save for Silver Lining and Lightning Streak.

After a moment he ushered them to a table not too far from the stage. After each had taken a seat, he gave them each a menu and took his leave with a polite bow. Each of them took the time to get comfortable before looking at the menu.

Rainbow felt her cheeks start to burn again. The so-called menu in her hooves was far more aptly described as a short-list. There were six options, each coming with a predetermined appetizer, wine, and dessert. Rainbow also noticed a distinct lack of any pricing information on the menu. She recalled Twilight once mentioning how the nicest and most expensive restaurants never put prices on their menus. Ponies simply selected whatever the chefs had chosen to prepare for that night, and then were hoofed an exorbitant bill when you finished.

Though in Twilight’s case, she and her family had been there with Princess Celestia, and Rainbow very much doubted there was a pony in Equestria dumb enough to hoof the princess a bill for anything, regardless of whether or not Celestia requested a bill. Rainbow bit her lip uncomfortably and glanced at all three Wonderbolts. Soarin’ and Rapidfire were each casually reading through their options, while Spitfire seemed slightly more interested in browsing the drink menu.

Slowly, Rainbow leaned over to Spitfire, lightly nudging the older mare’s shoulder.

“What’s up, Dash?” Spitfire asked cheerfully.

“I-uh, I’ve never been to a place like this,” she said quietly.

“Don’t worry.” Spitfire smiled, wrapping a hoof around Rainbow’s shoulders to give her a reassuring squeeze. “Just order whatever you want.”

Rainbow looked at the menu again before she returned her gaze to Spitfire. “Hey, Spitfire?” she asked sheepishly.

“Hey, Dash?” the Wonderbolt countered.

“What’s a truffle?”

“Mold,” Rapidfire interrupted.

“No it isn’t.” Spitfire rolled her eyes.

“Fancy mold,” Rapidfire said dryly.

“Oh stick a sock in it.” Spitfire groaned.

“Fancy sock mold,” Rapid deadpanned.

Spitfire groaned again, pressing her hoof to her forehead in exasperation.

Rainbow blinked in confusion before turning to Soarin’ in hopes of some kind of explanation. The sky-blue stallion noticed her pleading expression, and in response he simply shrugged.

“They do that,” he explained matter-of-factly. “You get used to it.”

Rainbow couldn’t help but chuckle as the twins bickered quietly. The arrival of their waiter, a green unicorn with a silver mane, put a stop to their squabble.

“Good evening,” he started with a smile. “Welcome to the Café Amaréicain. Have any of you dined with us before, or is this your first time here?”

“The three of us have been here before,” Spitfire motioned to herself, Rapid, and Soarin’. “It’s her first time though.” She nodded towards Rainbow.

“Ah, I see. Well,” He offered her a welcoming smile, “welcome ma’am.”

“Thanks,” Rainbow said, doing her best not to look like a fish out of water.

“So,” he began, “what can I get you all to drink?”

“Just water for me, please,” Rainbow said.

“I’ll take a Whiskey Manehattan.” Soarin’ added.

“The house cider for me,” Rapid chirped.

“I’ll have the Pinot Noir,” Spitfire tossed in.

The stallion bowed before he trotted off to retrieve their drinks, leaving the four pegasi alone. The pianist had long since finished his song, and was playing a wordless, but moving piece while several other musicians set up.

“So, how’re things going on the team without me there to foalsit?” Spitfire asked Soarin’.

“Ask me when I’m less sober,” Soarin’ answered with an annoyed sigh.

“Fleetfoot and Blaze are getting really annoying,” Rapid added.

“What’s Arcus saying about it?” Spitfire asked as she leaned forward slightly.

“Well that’s part of the problem.” Soarin’ sighed and shook his head. “He hasn’t come to any decision yet, so—officially at least—he’s tabled the entire conversation while he thinks about it.”

“What’s going on?” Rainbow asked, the concern plain on her face. “The Wonderbolts aren’t in trouble are they? Cause that would totally stink.”

Spitfire hesitated for a moment. Should she tell Rainbow about the argument that she had walked into? Would it be better to just sweep it under the rug and okay it off as nothing? Soarin’ and Rapidfire watched her expectantly, neither of them would say anything more than she wanted them to.

Spitfire carefully considered the consequences of the next few moments. If she played it off as nothing, she risked the whole thing blowing up in her face later and possibly damaging Rainbow’s faith in her. On the other hoof, if she told Rainbow about the fight going on in the team, there was a chance it could still alienate the younger mare.

“Well,” Spitfire started, deciding that sunshine was the best medicine, “a lot of ponies noticed that rainboom the other night, including the whole team.”

“Um, oops?” Rainbow rubbed the back of her head and laughed sheepishly, memories of her awkward day at work rushing back.

“Some ponies on the team are insisting we get you to teach it to us,” Rapidfire added. “The rest of us would rather let you decide someday.”

Rainbow was quiet for a moment before she turned to Spitfire, her face expressionless, “What do you think?”

“I think the rainboom was the most amazing thing I’ve ever experienced,” Spitfire said with a smile, “and I think you’re the only pony in the world capable of performing it.”

Rainbow’s cheeks flushed red from the compliment.

“Don’t worry, Dash,” Spitfire said, putting her hoof on Rainbow’s shoulder. “Soarin’, Rapid, and I will make sure nopony bothers you unless you want them to. Okay?”

Rainbow nodded, smiling genuinely at the promise.

“Well, I’ve got one condition for that,” Rapidfire interrupted, earning a glare from Spitfire.

“What kinda condition?” Rainbow asked warily. The last time a pony had made her a conditional promise it had ended with watching the butterfly migration with Fluttershy and being bored out of her mind.

“I wanna hear how you figured it out!” Rapid grinned broadly “What was the training like; what did it feel like the first time you pulled it off? I wanna hear that story!”

“Pardon my brother; he’s a foal trapped in a stallions body.” Spitfire rolled her eyes.

“Hello pot, I’m kettle,” Rapid countered.

“Yeah, I gotta side with Rapid on this one, boss,” Soarin’ interjected with a smirk.

Spitfire opened her mouth to reply, only to hesitate as she thought it over.

“…Touché,” she mumbled in irritation.

“So,” Rapid continued, “tell us the story, Rainbow!”

“It was the Best Young Flyer’s competition, right?” Soarin’ asked as he took a sip of water.

“No, um, I did it once before that,” Rainbow said sheepishly, her cheeks gaining a subtle tinge of pink.

“Like during practice?” Spitfire asked, tilting her head curiously.

“Heh, not exactly.” Rainbow shook her head. “It’s how I got my cutie mark.”

Soarin’s eyes went wide as his drink took a detour through his nose. Similarly, both Spitfire and Rapidfire looked utterly stunned by the revelation. Spitfire’s shock was somewhat buoyed by an amazed smile, whereas Rapid seemed unable to fully process the information.

“No way,” Rapid mumbled as he shook his head. “That’s just… that’s just not fair.”

“Dash,” Spitfire rested her hoof on top of Rainbow’s, “that’s incredible!”

Rainbow’s cheeks grew a deeper shade of red, even as she offered a noncommittal shrug. Spitfire wondered why she seemed so hesitant to talk more about her talents. The deposed captain made a note to ask Dash about it later.

Before anypony could say another word, their waiter returned with their drinks.

After ensuring each pegasus was satisfied with their drink, he took their orders. Soarin’ ordered a phyllo roulade, Rapidfire ordered a Tofu dish served in a brandy cream sauce, Spitfire asked for a hickory basted tempeh, and Rainbow ordered a vegetable mezza platter, mostly because she hoped it was the most affordable item on the menu. The unicorn left them with a small basket of warm dinner rolls before he excused himself to place their order.

Roughly at that point, a teal-coated earth pony mare with a blonde mane had taken to the stage. She spoke with the pianist for a few moments before taking her place at the microphone. The pianist counted her in with a simple progression of two chords. The bassist, a blue-coated stallion with a dark green mane, joined the music, while another pony that the group couldn’t see from their position kept a quiet rhythm on the high-hat of his drums. After a few moments, the pianist, bassist, and another stallion held a sonorous note that led into the song itself

The mare’s singing voice was deeper than any singer Spitfire had heard before. Perhaps that’s what caught the Wonderbolt’s attention. There was a motherly quality to it that gave warmth to the haunting tone of the song.

“Er ritt davon, den Träumen nach,
Ritt in das Morgenrot hinein,”

Soarin’s ears perked immediately from the sound, and he quickly turned in his seat to give the stage his undivided attention.

“Ich blieb zurück und sah ihm nach,
Und wollte stark und tapfer sein,”

The mare kept her eyes closed, her head nodding with the rhythm of the music as the band built into the second verse.

“Ich zähl die Tage und mach Kerben in das Holz,
In weite Fernen geht mein Blick,”

Rainbow scooted closer to Spitfire, her hoof locking with the Wonderbolt's.

“It’s a pretty song,” the weather mare noted.

Spitfire nodded in agreement. “Yeah it is. Too bad I don’t speak Germane.”

“doch in den Nächten da vergess ich meinen Stolz
und bete bringt ihn mir zurück.”

“It’s a song for a lost lover.” Soarin’ stated, earning a confused look from all three pegasi.

“Since when did you speak Germane?” Rapidfire asked incredulously.

Soarin blinked in confusion at the question. “My Mom is from Germaneigh. I was raised in a bilingual home.”

“How come you never told me this?” Spitfire balked.

“Weil du nie gefragt hast.” Soarin replied with a smirk.

“Try again in a language the rest of us can understand,” Rapidfire growled.

“I said, because you never asked.” Soarin’ chuckled.

“Okay then wiseguy,” Rapid glowered. “What’s she saying now?”

Soarin’ returned his focus to the stage, listening closely as the mare finished the refrain.

“Komm doch heim, komm doch heim
Heim zu mir, denn ich bin, so allein.”

“Roughly translated,” Soarin’ began slowly, his emerald eyes squinting, “it means, please come home, home to me, because I’m so alone. It’s kinda hard to translate... ‘Komm heim’ means ‘come home’, but ‘doch’ doesn’t have a literal translation, it’s more like an emphasis. Like, like a pleading really.”

Rainbow and Spitfire both nodded, their eyes transfixed on the mare’s haunting lament. By the time the mare finished her song and took her bow, Soarin’ was trying to discreetly wipe at his eyes with his hoof.

Rapidfire nudged him lightly. “You alright there, Mallow?”

“I’m fine,” Soaring curtly answered. “Just…just got something in my eye.

“You really are a marshmallow,” Rapidfire commented with a wry grin.

“I will stab you in your sleep,” Soarin’ growled.

“Kinky,” Rapid giggled as he patted Soarin’s back.

Soon after, their meals were delivered along with a matched glass of wine. Soarin’ received some gentle razzing from the twins before the conversation shifted to backstage stories of pranks pulled, close call crashes, and the terror that was an angry Arcus. Rainbow asked questions at every opportunity she could, and when prompted, she shared a few of her own stories.

“I once ate meat,” she admitted with wine-induced flippancy.

“You what?!” Rapidfire balked.

“How in the buck did that happen?” Spitfire asked, her expression one of amused revulsion at the very idea.

Soarin’ sipped his second Manehattan, very content to pretend this particular conversation wasn’t happening.

Rainbow’s alcohol flushed cheeks gained an additional shade of crimson as she shrugged. “My best friend in Junior Speedsters was a griffon. She brought it in sometimes for lunch. She dared me, and I tried it.”

“Whoa,” Spitfire marvelled, her morbid curiosity getting the better of her. “What was it like?”

“…Chewy,” Rainbow answered after a moments thought.

Rapidfire groaned and put his head in his hooves while Spitfire laughed. Time melted away as the four swapped story after story, and the conversation continued long after their plates were cleared and their bill paid. Spitfire had managed to suppress any visible reaction when she had received the bill, though she did swear she was never coming back unless somepony else was paying.

“Well,” Soarin’ said with a yawn, “I suppose we should clear out soon. It’s getting a bit late.”

Spitfire turned slightly so she could see one of the clocks that was affixed to the wall. She was mildly surprised to see it was well after nine o’clock. Rainbow’s low tolerance for alcohol manifested in the weather manager sleepily leaning on Spitfire’s shoulder, her magenta eyes half-open and watching the stage. She nudged Rainbow gently, just enough to get the cyan mare’s attention.

“What do you say, Dash.” She smiled to her date. “Ready to head out?”

Rainbow covered a yawn with her hoof, nodding slowly. “Can we stay for one more song?” she asked.

“Sure thing,” Spitfire answered, her smile growing slightly.

Rapidfire nudged Soarin’s side lightly. “Check it out, Mallow; Spitfire’s gone domestic on us.”

Soarin’ covered his snicker behind a hoof, clearly noticing the chagrined look on Spitfire’s face.

“Careful, she might clock us with a frying pan,” Soarin’ replied.

“When I get my job back,” Spitfire growled, “you two are gonna get media duty for a month.”

“Totally worth it.” Rapidfire grinned.

“You won’t think that when you’ve sobered up,” Soarin’ commented.

“That reminds me,” Rapid pointed his hoof to Soarin’s empty cocktail glass, “how are you still conscious? You’ve had, like, three of those.”

Soarin’ stared at Rapid as though he had just asked if fire was hot.

“My Mom’s an old Germaneighian mare and Dad is from a long line of Scolt’s,” he stated, as though that somehow explained everything.

Rapid groaned and facehoofed.

On stage, the pianist began to play again, this time a brown stallion with a salt and pepper mane stood at the microphone. With a smile on his lips he began to sing, his vibrato voice washing over the entranced hall.

“You must remember this
A kiss is still a kiss
A sigh is just a sigh
The fundamental things apply
As time goes by

And when two lovers woo
They still say I love you
On that you can rely
No matter what the future brings
As time goes by.”

Author's Note

Cameo ponies:
Sorren: The greeter
Deanbrony: The Waiter
Rhythm: The pianist and singer
Zaponator: The Germane Singing Mare
Derpyhooves15: The bassist and backup singer.

Love you all!

The Wonderbolt and the Weather Manager

Spitfire couldn’t help but hum happily as she walked with Rainbow through the quiet Manehattan streets. They had parted with Soarin’ and Rapid shortly after leaving the Café Amaréicain, the stallions flying off in the direction of the hotel, while Spitfire and Dash meandered in the general direction of the hightown parks. The former Captain had originally planned to show Dash some of the city's nicer clubs, however that plan seemed markedly less appealing with a full belly and a pleasant buzz.

Perhaps one of the larger surprises for Spitfire had been discovering just how relaxed Rainbow Dash became after a little alcohol. The weather manager, Celestia bless her heart, was doing her level best to walk in a straight line and keep her eyes open. Unfortunately for her, the only way to achieve that goal had been to lean on Spitfire. The Wonderbolt couldn’t help but find that a highly amicable solution, as evidenced by her good wing draped over Rainbow’s back.

There was a tiny corner of her mind that was mildly disappointed by Rainbow’s reaction to alcohol. The weather manager was a pony that seemed to just get sleepy from drinking. Perhaps if she had a higher tolerance she would be different, but for the moment at least, she was comparatively boring. Part of the fun of drinking, at least for Spitfire, was seeing how various ponies changed while under the influence. Rapidfire was a chatty drunk, always with new questions and stories pouring out of his mouth. Her brother’s inability to keep his mouth closed after a few pints was probably where Arcus got half of his information from on the personal lives of the Wonderbolts.

Soarin’, on the other hoof, drank like an old stallion. He would sit there and sip at his cocktails, rarely imbibing enough at once to get more than a pleasant buzz. Spitfire had only seen him drunk once, and that had been because she and Rapid had spiked the punch bowl during an afterparty. To her great surprise, and mild disappointment, the sky-blue stallion was a very quiet drunk. Halfway through that party he had found a comfortable spot to sit in and barely spoke until the next morning.

The other Wonderbolts were fairly stratified in their reactions. Misty and Blaze thought everything was hilarious; Lightning Streak and Surprise were loving drunks, always hugging, touching, and flirting with everypony in sight, and Fleetfoot and Wave Chill turned into sobbing wrecks after one too many. Spitfire and all the other Wonderbolts made a point to stop both Fleetfoot and Wave Chill before they reached that level.

Spitfire would deny it to her dying breath, but she was beginning to see a certain advantage in being—at least temporarily—flightless. It was forcing her to slow down and take notice of the quieter moments—those same, quiet moments that had driven her to near insanity when she had been on her own, had changed entirely now. Here, with Rainbow, every moment was a little treasure. Spitfire smiled, her wing giving Dash a gentle hug. She decided that even if their relationship were to end tomorrow, it would still have been worth every second.

“Where’re we going?” Rainbow asked, stifling a quiet yawn.

“I figured we could just walk through the park, maybe find a nice spot to watch the stars, talk for a bit,” Spitfire answered with a noncommittal shrug. “Unless you're too tired. I can take you home too.”

“I’ll be fine in a minute,” Rainbow responded, doing her best to perk up. “I guess I’m just not used to wine.”

“Don’t worry about it.” Spitfire chuckled. “Besides, you’re cute when you’re sleepy.”

Rainbow blushed and mumbled indistinguishably.

After nearly half an hour of walking, Rainbow’s head had begun to clear some of the lassitude that had been plaguing her since dinner. Had she wanted to, she probably could have walked without leaning on Spitfire, however she found that prospect was decidedly less appealing than her current position. The golden wing draped over her back didn’t particularly encourage her to move either.

Their walk took them up to hightown’s central park, which was emptied of most ponies. There were a few other couples taking an evening stroll and the odd police pony making his nightly rounds. Gas powered lamps that bathed the cobblestone streets in a golden glow and pale moonlight filtered down from above. A gentle breeze washed through the park, sending a mild chill through the two pegasi.

Spitfire’s wing held Rainbow close.

The two parted with the cobblestone path and made their way through a small copse of trees; past that was an open, hilly area where the stars were clearly visible and the grass underhoof was soft. Spitfire and Rainbow made their way to the top of one of the small hills where they finally sat down. The Wonderbolt’s wing never left the weather manager’s back.

They sat in silence for a long while before Rainbow spoke up.

“Hey, Spitfire?”

“Yeah, Dash?”

“How did both you and your brother make it to the Wonderbolts?” she asked.

Spitfire chuckled softly. “That’s a good question, but probably not a very interesting story.”

“Still, I’d love to hear it.” Rainbow said as she reclined against Spitfire’s side.

“Well, when we were little, we got to travel around a lot because Dad was in the Royal Guard. Then, around the time we turned ten, he retired and took a job in the Royal Mail Service. The Cloudsdale office, specifically,” Spitfire explained with a smile. “I was always a bit of a Daddy’s girl, so when I was old enough, I signed up for the Guard just like him. Rapid took a job with the Royal Mail cause nothing else struck his fancy.

“Well, I got through basic and was placed into the communications corps because of my speed—that’s where I met Soarin’ actually. We became friends pretty fast, mostly ‘cause I was the only flyer who could keep up with him in a race. This was about the time when Blue Streak, the previous Captain of the Wonderbolts, and Arcus noticed us.

“They brought us in and had us do tandem-flying exercises for a week; by the end of it, we were both offered a position on the team. I got assigned to the lead pony and Soarin’ got wingpony. Soarin’s the best friend you could ever ask for, loyal, kind, and heart of gold. Even when he was offered a lead pony position of his own he refused.”

Spitfire paused at the memory, a nostalgic smile on her lips.

Rainbow waited a moment before speaking up. “So, how did Rapidfire join up?”

“Well,” Spitfire started, “about a year and a half after Soarin’ and I were accepted onto the team, Blue Streak decided to retire. It was kind of an awkward timing, most of the team he ran were all getting close to the mandatory retirement age. Blue Streak didn’t want to appoint a new team Captain if that pony was just going to retire in a year, so he picked me and I picked Soarin’ for my lieutenant.

“Within a year, most of the older team members had retired as well, and the Guard didn’t want us raiding all their best flyers for propaganda purposes, so I suggested to Arcus that we open up the Wonderbolts for civilian applications. He talked it over with the higher-ups, and they agreed.

“Arcus, Soarin’, and I spent a couple of months looking for pegasi that might be Wonderbolt material. We found some promising athletes here and there, but not a lot of great endurance flyers. Then, on a lark, I reached out to Rapid to see if he might be interested. He always was better in endurance flying than I was. And, turns out, working for the Royal Mail turned him into one of the best endurance flyers alive today. He’s not the fastest or most agile Wonderbolt, but he can fly all day everyday.”

Spitfire paused for a breath as she finished her tale, “So, that’s our story, Dash.”

“That’s so awesome!” Rainbow said, her grin beaming up at Spitfire.

The Wonderbolt chuckled lightly, her wing flexing for a moment. The innocuous action sent a mild tickle through Rainbow’s back and brought a flush of pink to her cheeks. For a moment, silence again filled the gap between them until Spitfire thought of a question.

“So, Dash,” she began, looking down to face the younger mare.

“Yeah?” The weather manager replied.

“What’s your Dad like?” Spitfire asked.

“Um,” Rainbow paused, caught slightly off guard by the question. “Well, he’s really nice. He manages Thunderhead production in the Weather Factory now.”

“What? Really?” Spitfire blurted.

“Yup.” Rainbow grinned proudly. “Before that, he was the lead lightning wrangler for the Cloudsdale weather team.”

“That’s amazing, Dash,” Spitfire said with a smile. “What else does he do?”

“Um, well... he used to write songs and perform in some weekend bands when I was younger. I know he still does band stuff from time to time, but not as often as he used to,” Rainbow explained.

“Really?” Spitfire quirked an eyebrow in surprise. “What kind of songs?”

“Folky music mostly. My uncle told me he used to sing them for Mom when they were dating,” Rainbow answered.

“Is your uncle on your Dad’s side or…” Spitfire trailed off, not wanting to poke what might be a sensitive subject. To her immense relief, Rainbow merely shrugged and smiled.

“Technically he’s not my uncle at all,” Rainbow answered, earning a quizzical look from Spitfire. “He’s actually my Dad’s best friend, but he was around so often that I just sorta grew up calling him my uncle.”

Spitfire chuckled and nodded. After a brief moment of silence she turned back Rainbow.

“So, any songs I might know?” the Wonderbolt asked with a smile.

Rainbow flushed slightly. “I dunno, maybe?”

“My parents played a lot of folk music while Rapid and I were growing up.” Spitfire sheepishly dug her hoof at the ground. “I have kind of a soft spot for it.”

Rainbow was quiet for a minute as she thought. Spitfire waited patiently for a time before she started to speak, only to stop when she heard Rainbow humming a melody that seemed vaguely familiar to the golden pegasus. It was only when she began to sing that Spitfire recalled the song, a perennial favorite of hers and her fathers.

“Have you seen the old stallion
in the closed-down market
Kicking up the paper,
with his worn out hooves?
In his eyes you see no pride
Wings held loosely at his side
Yesterday's paper telling yesterday's news”

Have you seen the old mare
Who walks the streets of Lundy
Dirt in her mane and her clothes in rags?
She's no time for talking,
She just keeps right on walking
Carrying her home in two carrier bags.

So how can you tell me you're lonely,
And say for you that the sun don't shine?”

Spitfire’s wing pulled Rainbow close as she broke into the song, her voice warm and gentle, like a summer breeze.

“Let me take you by the hoof
and lead you through the streets of Lundy
I'll show you something
to make you change your mind”

Rainbow’s cheeks flushed lightly as she continued what had become their duet.

“In the all night cafe
At a quarter past eleven,
Same old stallion sitting there on his own”

Spitfire wrapped her left foreleg around Rainbow’s waist as she picked up the verse.

“Looking at the world
Over the rim of his tea-cup,
Each tea last an hour
Then he wanders home alone”

As the song came to it’s finale refrain, their voices wove together in a seamless harmony. Rainbow’s magenta eyes lost in Spitfire’s amber gaze.

“So how can you tell me you're lonely,
And say for you that the sun don't shine?
Let me take you by the hoof and lead you through the streets of Lundy
I'll show you something to make you change your mind”

The finale note faded from their lips, their music replaced by the delicate chorus of the night. The silence between them seemed to stretch into eternity as they stared at one another. Rainbow felt her heart skip a beat as Spitfire leaned closer, subtle tremors ran through her body as the golden pegasus held her close. She could feel Spitfire’s warm breath wash over her muzzle; she heard her heart pounding in her ears.

Time froze as their lips met.

Hurt So Good

It didn’t seem real.

Things like this were only supposed to be in the purview of schlocky romances, like the ones Fluttershy and Rarity were so fond of—yet there Rainbow Dash was, frozen in her place, with Spitfire’s lips interlocked with hers. Rainbow’s cheeks burned, her heart raced, and her mind spun from the simple, inescapable reality of her situation.

It wasn’t like the way she had seen it in movies or read in books. There were no fireworks, no clarion calls or sweeping strings; there wasn’t a particular shift in her previous paradigms, nor a sudden epiphany of new emotion. It was simply Spitfire and her, with the world around them nothing more than a vague afterthought.

All too soon, Spitfire’s lips parted with Rainbow’s, a ghost of warm breath washing over her muzzle as the Wonderbolt retreated. Rainbow forced her eyes open, immediately she found herself once again lost in Spitfire’s gaze. The older mare’s golden cheeks laced with the faintest hint of crimson and her lips still parted slightly.

The weather manager remained frozen in her place, Spitfire’s forelegs wrapped loosely around her waist with her good wing draped over her back. Rainbow’s forelegs had, at some point unbeknownst to their owner, wrapped themselves around Spitfire’s waist as well. Despite however hard she tried, Rainbow couldn’t find the words to break the silence of the moment. She was torn between euphoric excitement and utter terror, which resulted in a noticeable tremble running throughout her body. Spitfire’s forelegs very slightly tightened their grip.

“You alright, Dash?” Spitfire asked, her voice airy and soft.

“Y-yeah,” Dash answered with a smile, a strong shiver running through her at the sound of Spitfire’s voice.

“You sure?” Spitfire asked worriedly. “You’re shaking.”

Rainbow managed an anxious laugh, “S-sorry, I’ve just-just, well…you know…”

“First kiss?” Spitfire inquired with a quirked eyebrow.

Rainbow nodded mutely, her cheeks ears flattening back.

“Like… with a mare, or ever?” Spitfire asked, her surprise apparent in her voice.

“Yes...” Rainbow answered quietly, and after a significant pause.

Spitfire mouthed a silent ‘oh’, her wing providing a constant hug to the younger mare. Silence filled the air between them for a moment before Spitfire lightly nudged Dash’s ribs to draw her attention. “So, was it good for you?” Spitfire asked, waggling her eyebrows playfully.

Rainbow snickered and folded her forelegs across her chest. She pursed her lips, tilted her head, and furled her brows together to look like a mare lost in deep thought over the matter. Spitfire chuckled, though at the same time she felt a peculiar sense of anxiety well up in her stomach at the thought of Rainbow saying ‘no’.

“Well, I don’t know,” Rainbow teasingly drawled. “I mean, it wasn’t a rainboom or anything, but I’d say it was pretty good.”

“A rainboom, huh?” Spitfire grinned impishly, “I’ll give you a rainboom.” Rainbow barely managed a squeak as Spitfire pulled her close and dipped her low. The Wonderbolt’s left hoof supported the back of Rainbow’s head while her powerful wing gently cradled the weather manager’s back. Spitfire smiled warmly as her right hoof gently brushed stray strands of mane from Rainbow’s face.

Any words were lost when Spitfire’s lips again pressed against Rainbow’s. Rainbow inhaled sharply through her nose as the Wonderbolt’s tongue teased at her lips. Spitfire lost her self in the physicality of the moment. More than once she found herself come dangerously close to yielding to her more carnal desires. With any other mare, she probably would have caved. With Rainbow, however, there was something she couldn’t quite put her hoof on that made her reluctant to take things too quickly.

Spitfire held the kiss until the muscles in her wing began to burn and her lungs screamed for a full breath of air. Reluctantly, her lips again parted with Rainbow’s. Both mares panted lightly, the Wonderbolt’s lips ghosting over the weather manager’s more than a few times. Spitfire gently pulled Rainbow back to an upright position, stifling a giggle at the dazed look on the cyan mare’s face.

“How was that?” Spitfire asked with a smirk, her forelegs pulling Rainbow into a close hug.

“Whooooaa,” Rainbow breathed softly.

Spitfire chuckled proudly and gave Rainbow a soft kiss on the cheek. “Glad I made an impression.”

Rainbow managed a soft laugh as she rested her head on Spitfire’s shoulder. A cyan wing gently slipped around the Wonderbolt’s back in a tender hug. A comfortable silence settled over the couple for a moment before Rainbow spoke. “Thank you,” she said quietly.

“For what?” Spitfire asked, mildly confused.

“Everything,” Rainbow made a broad gesture with her hoof. “The past couple weeks have been like something out of an awesome dream.”

“I’m glad, Dash,” Spitfire replied as she nuzzled between Rainbow’s ears.

For a while, the two lost track of time on the peaceful hilltop. Both mares content to hold, and be held, as the minutes ticked by in silence. Spitfire’s gaze shifted between Luna’s beautiful night sky and the rainbow-maned mare in her embrace. There was something that had been bugging her for days, a question only Rainbow could answer, though Spitfire was hesitant to ask for fear of poking at what could easily be a sore spot for the weather manager.

Spitfire had first noticed it just after Rainbow had booked her hotel accommodations, and again on several other occasions. It was a notable reticence that came over the younger mare when Spitfire, or even Soarin’ and Rapid, had complimented her achievements. It didn’t seem like simple humility; humility didn’t carry the sting that Dash seemed to subtly recoil from.

Several times, Spitfire opened her mouth to ask Rainbow about it, yet each time she found herself unable to find the right words. Rainbow’s discomfort with whatever it was that kept her quiet concerned Spitfire. At the same time, she wasn’t sure if she had the right to really ask about it. After all, they had only been dating a couple of weeks; what did that make them to each other?

Spitfire took a deep breath as she thought it over. It had been so long since she’d allowed another pony, intentionally or not, to get so close. She hadn’t dared to call anypony her marefriend since her breakup with Zephyr. Just how serious did she want to let things get between them? Spitfire had certainly enjoyed herself during their brief time together, and she knew Rainbow had too. With a light sigh, she planted a gentle kiss between Dash’s ears.

‘No,’ Spitfire decided after thinking it over a while longer, ‘not tonight. Tonight’s been too nice to end it with a question like that.’

She couldn’t help a smirk as a question of perhaps greater interest popped into her mind.

“Hey, Rainbow?” She asked quietly.

“Yeah?” Dash answered, peering up to Spitfire.

“I don’t think I asked the other day...” She began nervously, “but um…how…how do you feel about getting serious?”

Rainbow’s cheeks flushed bright red. Spitfire’s forelegs, still wrapped around the smaller mare’s torso, felt her heart flutter in her chest.

“As in, like, real marefriends?” Rainbow asked sheepishly.

“Real marefriends,” Spitfire confirmed with a nod.

Rainbow’s cheeks burned intensely as a wave of dizziness nearly overwhelmed her. She found herself deeply glad she was both sitting down and had another pony already holding on to her. The torrent of emotions that roiled through her resulted in a sharp gasp from the weather manager.

“I-is it bad I’m scared?” Rainbow asked, her voice quavering.

“No,” Spitfire answered as she smiled and nuzzled the top of Rainbow’s head, “because it scares me too.”

The cyan-coated mare laughed softly, her grip tightening on Spitfire’s waist. “Y-yeah,” Rainbow began anxiously. “I’d like that a lot.”

Spitfire gave Rainbow a gentle squeeze, a broad grin spreading over her lips. “Then it’s official...” She happily trailed off, “marefriend.”

Rainbow felt her cheeks burn anew at the title. She nuzzled her cheek against Spitfire’s shoulder for a moment, until Spitfire’s hoof gently lifted her chin up. Her magenta eyes again met with Spitfire’s golden orbs. With a warm smile, Spitfire’s soft lips met Rainbows for a third time. The kiss ended all too soon for Rainbow when Spitfire’s lips left hers, the older mare gently nuzzling her.

“Are you free tomorrow?” Spitfire asked, her voice soft and breathy.

“All day,” Rainbow answered. “What should we do?”

“Oh, I’ve got a few ideas...” Spitfire winked mischievously.

Rainbow giggled and nuzzled into the crook of Spitfire’s neck. “Well then, I guess I’ll just have to walk my new marefriend home and pick her up in the morning.”

Spitfire laughed and gave Rainbow a playful nudge. “Just you wait until my wing is healed, then we’ll see who picks who up.”

Rainbow giggled and nudged Spitfire back. “Deal.”

The two sat for a while longer under Luna’s moon, simply enjoying each other’s company for as long as they could.

Far across town, Soarin’ was trying valiantly to remember why he had agreed to grab a post-dinner drink with Rapidfire. Also, when ‘a drink’ had turned into multiple drinks.

“You totally gotta teach me how’ta talk in those Germaneesy words,” Rapid said as Soarin’ helped him out of the bar and onto the deserted streets.

“You’re drunk, Rapid,” Soarin’ pointed out in annoyance. “Do us both a favor and shut up.”

“I’m not drunk,” Rapid protested. “I’m just kinda incapissatated.”

“You mean ‘incapacitated’?” Soarin’ asked, a smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth.

“That’s what I said!” Rapid nodded his head sagely.

“No dude, you said ‘incapissatated’.” Soarin’ elbowed the ginger stallion.

“No I didn’t,” Rapid said, his face scrunching in contemplation. “…Unless I did.”

“You did,” Soarin’ answered.

“Whatever, just teach me some of your fancy mouth stuff.”

Soarin’ nearly fell face-first onto the ground from Rapid’s comment. “Y-you wanna rephrase that, buddy?” Soarin’ all but pleaded, his cheeks blushing furiously.

Rapid blinked in genuine confusion, his inebriated mind completely missing the potential innuendo.

“What?” Rapid asked.

“Nevermind,” Soarin’ lamented, resisting the urge to smack his hoof into his face.

“Come on, Mallow,” Rapid whined, draping his left wing over Soarin’s back. “Just teach me a few things. Pretty Please?”

“Will you shut up if I do?” Soarin’ half asked, half pleaded.

“Maaaaybe,” Rapid grinned.

“Uhhg. Das lustige daran eine Fremdsprache zu sprechen sind all die kreativen Wege wie ich dich einen Idioten nennen kann,” Soarin’ grumbled.

“What did ya say?” Rapid asked, the confusion plain on his face.

“I said fine,” Soarin lied.

Rapid eyed his companion dubiously. “That was a lotta noise for one word…”

“It’s a verbose language,” Soarin’ said with a shrug.

“Okay…” Rapid said, still not entirely buying the excuse. “What’s a nice greeting sound like?”

“Deine Schwester hat 'nen Arsch der nicht aufhört und Beine die bis zum Himmel reichen,” Soarin’ said, doing his best not to smirk.

“An’ what’s that mean?” Rapid asked, grinning like a foal.

“It’s a nice, formal greeting,” Soarin’ lied again.

“Cool, Mallow!” Rapid exclaimed, giving his friend a drunken hug. Well, to Rapid it was a hug, to Soarin’ it was more like having another stallion fall onto his back.

“Down boy, down!” Soarin’ squawked, trying to push the smaller stallion away without accidentally knocking him over. The minor kerfuffle ended with Rapid’s backside hitting the ground with a thud.

“Meanie,” Rapid pouted.

“Hey, I’m the captain,” Soarin’ reminded his lieutenant, “which means I’m paid the big bits to be a meanie.”

Rapidfire kicked his hoof at the sidewalk, remaining seated until Soarin’ hefted him to his hooves.

“Besides,” Soarin’ smirked impishly, “nopony gets on top of me.”

Even through the alcohol haze in his mind, Rapid noticed the euphemism in the sky-blue stallion’s words.

“Oh really?” Rapid challenged, a lopsided smirk on his face.

“Yup,” Soarin’ nodded before beginning to trot back to the hotel. “Now let’s get a move— AHH!” Soarin’ yelped loudly as Rapidfire jumped onto his back and hooked his legs around the larger stallion.

“Giddyup little pony!” Rapid shouted gleefully, his wings outstretched to help keep his balance.

“Rapid,” Soarin’ yelled, his face flushed crimson, “get off of me!”

“D’aww, but you’re so soft and squishy, Mallow!” Rapid cooed.

“I am going to hurt you,” Soarin’ growled, even as he begrudgingly carried Rapidfire back to the hotel.

“Hurt so good!” Rapid sang loudly.

“Oh buck my life,” Soarin’ moaned as his passenger sang drunkenly.

“Come on baby make it hurt so good! Cause sometimes love don’t feel like it should, you make it hurt so good!”

“Please for the love of all things good and sacred, shut up,” Soarin’ pleaded.

“Don't have to be so exciting, just tryin' to give myself a little bit of fun, yeah. You always look so invitin', you ain't as green as you are young.” Rapid sang cheerfully, his eyes closed and his body swaying to the motions of the song only he could hear “Hey baby, its you, come on, girl, now, its you. Sink your teeth right through my bones, baby let's see what we can do, come on and make it up. A-hurt so good. Come on baby, make it hurt so good. Sometimes love don't feel like it should, you make it, a-hurt so good!”

Scruples

It was a lovely Saturday morning in Manhattan. Celestia’s glorious sun shone brightly down upon the many ponies that called the city home. Granted, not many ponies were perky morning ponies like Red Top was, but it was a lovely morning nonetheless.

Red Top leafed through the pages of his pocket-sized notebook. The small pad floated in front of his snout, held aloft in his magic. Every so often he glanced up from the page he was reading to make sure he wasn’t going to bump into anypony. Years of practice had made him very capable of navigating Manehattan while jotting notes or looking over his schedule.

The reason for this particular morning’s walk was primarily business. Business, and he needed to pick up some groceries on the way back home. Not that he minded the errand; his wife was an earth pony after all. Just in practical terms it was easier for him to pick up the groceries than it was for her. The fact he didn’t have to do the dishes from breakfast was a nice bonus too.

“Let’s see,” he muttered to himself as he found the page containing the morning’s to-do list. “Gotta get milk, oats, coffee, stuff for dinner, bread, and a treat for the kids at the market…” He hummed softly, flipping to the next page.

“Ah here we are.” He smiled. “Meet with Quick, nine-thirty, Morning Brew’s Coffee House.”

He paused at the street corner long enough to get his bearings. Red Top found himself at the corner of Downer and Mane Street, only a thirty-minute walk from his home. Morning Brew’s Coffee House was a fair distance down Mane Street, another forty-minute walk if he made good time.

Red Top took a moment to stretch before he began his walk. It wasn’t often that he missed the days of being a beat reporter for another pony’s newspaper. It was a lot of hard work for lousy pay and few benefits, not something he could raise a family on. That said, years of sitting behind a desk coordinating ponies, meeting with advertising interests, and planning stories had left him a little soft around the edges.

Becoming an entrepreneur and establishing his own paper had nearly ended in failure. Few ponies were willing to buy an unknown publication without some sort of word-of-mouth and those that did weren’t going to leave their subscriptions to the big name papers like the Manehattan Times or the Post.

Red Top couldn’t fault them for that; he probably wouldn’t have changed his subscription either. His paper had muddled through six months before Red Top hit on an idea. He had noticed how much ponies enjoyed gossiping and speculating about the private lives of others. Even his editorial staff, meager as it was, enjoyed putting together their own mock paper in their free time that was a fun little romp into the fantastical.

With what money he had left, he scrounged together a new paper full of nothing but the juiciest gossip he could get his hooves on. He and a few editors then began writing outlandish headlines and borderline farcical articles about anything they could think of. He ordered a short printing run and sent samples to a few select newsstands in the less affluent areas of Manehattan. To his great surprise they had all been sold out within the day.

There wasn’t really any turning back from that moment. Red Top met with his entire team, informed them of the change in strategy, and did what he could to find work for the writers who didn’t want any part of his new venture. That same month his old paper closed and his new paper, the Manehattan Gazette, began full publication.

It was a success like Red Top had never imagined. Profits were great, advertisers were interested, and it was fun to write for himself and his employees. He also received his first hate letter that same month. He still had that letter framed on his office wall. He couldn’t explain exactly why he had felt compelled to frame the letter. Most ponies had been mildly horrified at the very idea of it. Red Top found it absolutely fascinating that his work had inspired a pony to actually take the time to sit down and write, not to mention spend the postage.

Red Top chuckled to himself as he trotted down Mane Street, his magic securing his notebook into his saddlebag. He had a feeling today was going to be a great day, and he planned on making the most of it with his family when he got home. First, though, there was a little bit of business to take care of.

After nearly forty minutes of walking he arrived at Morning Brew’s Coffee House. The modest establishment, a small, two-story brick and mortar building, sat blending in quite well the surrounding buildings. Only a forest-green awning that shaded a cluster of sidewalk tables and a small sign on the window informed potential customers that the place was, in fact, a functioning coffee shop.

Red Top had once spoken to Morning Brew himself about his peculiar lack of marketing. The old earth pony had simply shrugged and claimed that “it’s worked out pretty well so far.” Red Top shook his head; Morning Brew was a good friend, but he had never been particularly good at small talk.

Shaking those thoughts free of his mind, Red Top scanned the tables out front of the shop. There were only three ponies sitting outside at this early hour. At the nearest table was a red earth pony mare with an orange mane, holding a thick stack of papers in her hooves. Across the table from her was an off-white pegasus stallion, his brown mane partially hidden by a black fedora. The two seemed to be bickering over something related to the papers in the mare’s hooves. Red Top chuckled; he knew that feeling all too well from at least one editorial meeting a month.

At a different table was the pony he was looking for, a tan-coated pegasus with a chestnut colored mane. A unicorn waitress was trotting over to him, a drink carefully held in her magic. The stallion’s back was facing Red Top and he seemed to be distracting himself by tinkering with a camera that was held carefully in his hooves. Red Top smiled as he trotted over.

“Here’s your tea, sir,” the unicorn waitress chirped as she carefully set the cup on the table.

“Thanks very much.” Quick Snap smiled up to her.

The mare smiled back at him before she trotted off. Quick carefully grasped the cup with his forelegs, lifting it to his lips where he took in a deep breath of the steam. He could just barely smell the sweet aroma of honey over the delicate tea. He took a tentative sip of the drink, wincing as the hot liquid threatened to burn his tongue.

Quick set the cup back on the table and let out a bored sigh. He wasn’t the type of pony who often bought things out when he could avoid it. His frugality was borne of necessity more than anything else. While pegasi photographers were usually in high-demand for their ability to get to a scene quickly, he was the notable exception to that rule. The demand for an asthmatic pegasus who couldn’t fly at breakneck speeds from location to location was far less prevalent.

The possibility of additional work was what had brought him to Morning Brew’s Coffee House in the first place. Specifically a tip from his on-again, off-again boss who had suggested that he could get some decent paying freelance work if he met a certain pony. Quick rolled his eyes, more than slightly annoyed that he hadn’t been provided with the name of his prospective employer.

He took another sip of his tea before a familiar voice behind him nearly scared his feathers off.

“Quick, buddy!” Red Top began with a broad grin, “how’s it going?”

“R-Red Top,” Quick started after a light cough, “what brings you around here?”

Red Top quirked an eyebrow curiously even as he took a seat across from the pegasus. “Uh, I’m the one who asked to meet with you again.” He said, an amused smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.

Quick Snap felt a bit of panic welling up in the back of his mind. “Ponyfeathers,” he cursed as he pressed his head into his hooves.

“Easy buddy,” Red Top said as he held up his hooves in a placating manner, “it’s an easy job.”

“The last time you gave me an easy job,” Quick began, his voice laced with suspicion, “it involved taking a picture of a half-dead mare in a hospital room.”

“Fair point,” Red Top admitted with a shrug, “though in my defense, I had no idea how serious Miss Scratch’s injuries were.”

Quick Snap cast a wary glare at Red Top. “Would knowing have changed your mind?” he asked.

Red Top thought for a moment, his lips pursing and his eyes drifting up and to the left. “Well,” he began with a cluck of his tongue, “maybe, maybe not. It’s hard to say with the benefit of hindsight.”

Quick sighed and shook his head slowly. He had never quite been able to forgive himself for doing that job, even if he had been desperate for the money at the time.

“How’s that studio I set you up with working out?” Red Top asked.

Quick shrugged his shoulders. “Depends on the week. If there’s lots of inside studio work then I get plenty of hours, but on the slower weeks I get furloughed.”

Red Top nodded slowly, “I’m sorry to hear that, Quick,” he said honestly. “You’re a talented photographer.”

Quick Snap shrugged off the compliment. He was well aware that his work was more about his lucky timing than his studio quality.

“What do you want, Red?” Quick asked bluntly. “If it’s another picture of a hospitalized pony, than the answer is no.”

Red chuckled, “No, no. Nothing so upsetting.” He answered, “I just need some of that famous timing of yours.”

“What for?” Quick inquired, his wings giving an anxious flutter.

“You know the Wonderbolt’s, right?” Red Top asked.

“I know of them. Everypony knows of them,” Quick Snap replied sarcasticly. “But no, I’m not exactly on a first name basis with them.”

“Right, nevermind that. One of them is out with some sort of injury,” Red Top explained, his horn igniting and retrieving his notepad from his saddlebag. “I got a tip from a pony that it was either Spitfire or Rapidfire, but it could be any of the other ones as well.”

“Okay...” Quick began slowly. “So what do you need me for?”

Red Top flipped through his notebook until he found the page he was looking for. With a meager effort he tore it free and set it in front of Quick. “There’s the address of the hotel that the majority of the team is staying at.” Red Top pointed to the innocuous parchment. “I want you to stake it out and see if you can figure out which one is injured and what sort of injury. I’ll pull some strings on my end and see if I can find out that way. Once we’ve got that settled, I just need a few good photos of the pony in question. Nothing intrusive, you don’t need to get in their faces or anything like that, just a decent set of photos of them around town.”

Quick Snap stared at the paper in front of him, the discomfort clear on his visage. He took a calming sip of his tea before he answered.

“I don’t know Red,” he began, his brow furrowed in concern. “You know I really don’t like this kind of work.”

“Then consider it a favor to me,” Red suggested, his forelegs folding on the table.

“Favor for what?” Quick balked in confusion.

“For not informing anypony that you got me those pictures of Vinyl Scratch.” Red Top said, his voice low.

Quick Snap’s heart froze for a moment, his mouth going dry, a pit forming in his gut. While Red Top may have put him up to the task, it had been Quick and Quick alone who had stolen into Vinyl’s hospital room and taken her photograph while she slept. The guilt still kept him up at night from time to time. Quick swallowed the lump in his throat and stared at his teacup in dejection.

“H-how...” Quick paused to clear his throat and take a breath. “How did you get out of trouble for that?”

Red Top shrugged, “I issued a formal apology, gave them the negatives and the photos, and I personally made a donation to Vinyl’s medical expenses.”

Quick Snap couldn’t stop the scoff that escaped his lips. “It must be nice to be rich,” he noted out loud.

“It’s got some perks,” Red Top agreed, “like the payment I will provide you for every photo you get.”

Quick Snap sighed and ran his hoof through his mane. He needed the extra income, of that there was no doubt. Between rent, food, and his medicine, his budget was tight to say the least. Quick didn’t trust Red Top on a lot of things, but he did have to give the unscrupulous unicorn credit for one thing: he paid well. Past dealings with Red had taught him to get the details first, though. “How much?”

Red Top sighed. He wasn’t surprised, but he had hoped it wouldn’t come up. “Fifty bits for every shot I can use. One hundred if you can get details on the injury.”

“Alright, Red,” Quick relented, his posture sagging in his seat. There was no way he could refuse that kind of money, given his circumstances. “I’ll get you some pictures.”

Hypothetically Speaking...

Rapidfire groaned as a series of heavy knocks on his hotel room door roused him from his sleep. His head ached, his throat was dry, and his limbs were sluggish. Furthermore, there was the ache in his gut that left him with the distinct impression his liver was punishing him.

With a fair amount of effort, he forced his eyes open, and immediately regretted the act. The dim light of his room was all but blinding to him and immediately sent a cringe through his body. Slowly he lowered his head back to the pillow, his foreleg draping over his eyes. For a few comparatively blissful moments the only sound was the throbbing in his skull. Then the knocking came again, as insistent as ever.

“Hey, LT,” somepony called from the hall, “you dead in there or what?”

Rapidfire groaned again, reluctantly sliding out of his bed. He steadied himself against the mattress for a minute before he dragged himself to the door. After a short and stumbling walk, he managed to get it unlocked, pulling it open to reveal Soarin’, his right hoof poised in the air ready to knock again. Soarin’ stared at Rapid for a moment; his expression shifting from mild confusion to thinly veiled amusement.

“Dude,” Soarin’ started with a chuckle, “you look like a train wreck.”

“Whaddaya want?” Rapid growled, his head pounding from the light filtering in from the hall.

“Making sure you’re still alive,” Soarin’ answered.

“It’s too early for this,” Rapid whined.

“It’s eleven-thirty,” Soarin’ informed his colleague.

Rapid leveled a blank stare at Soarin’ for a good while, his hungover mind not quite able to process the sky-blue stallion’s information. The last time Rapidfire had slept so late had been the day after he had been accepted into the Wonderbolts. That party still retained a legendary status in the annals of team history.

“…What?” Rapid asked.

Soarin’ sighed and shook his head. “This is why you shouldn’t drink so much.”

Rapid grumbled an indistinct response.

“How you feeling?” Soarin’ asked after a moment’s pause.

“…Lovely,” Rapid growled, the discomfort plain as day on his face.

Soarin’ regarded Rapidfire for a long moment before he leaned slightly to the left, peering over the ginger stallion into the darkened room.

“Uh, Rapid,” Soarin’ began, an amused smile pulling at the corners of his mouth. “Why do you have two uniforms in your room?”

Rapidfire blinked in confusion before he turned to look. After a moment he spotted his familiar blue and gold uniform laid out on the room’s desk. Beside it, wrapped in clear plastic, was a second uniform, the only difference being the sizes between them. The sound of Soarin’s giggles drew Rapidfire’s attention back to the door.

“So,” Soarin’ teased, “is that Misty’s or Fleetfoot’s?”

“…Spitfire’s.” Rapid answered after a moments thought.

Soarin’ pressed his hoof to his lips, trying mightily not to burst out laughing.

“You know,” Soarin’ giggled, “when you said you liked twins, I didn’t think that included yours.”

Rapidfire stared flatly at Soarin’, clearly unamused.

Soarin’ pantomimed wiping a tear from his eye. “And here I thought we had something special.”

“It’s too early for this, Mallow.” Rapid groaned, his hoof gingerly rubbing the side of his head. “And I’ve got a headache.”

“Turnabout’s fair play,” Soarin’ kindly informed Rapidfire.

“Do you need something, or can I go back to enjoying my hangover?” Rapid asked, his voice laced with irritation.

“Actually, you can get your flank in gear,” Soarin’ began casually. “Arcus wants to see us at the Stadium.”

“What for?” Rapid asked, wincing from the throbbing ache in his skull.

“I’m not entirely sure,” Soarin’ answered, “but if we leave now we can meet Spitfire and Rainbow Dash for lunch.”

“I think I’ll just go back to sleep,” Rapid grumbled as he started to turn back to the bed.

“Rapid,” Soarin’ started as he reached out and stopped his friend, “you need a big greasy breakfast and a lot of water. Otherwise you're just gonna feel worse when you wake up again.”

“Says who?” Rapid challenged.

“Say’s your boss,” Soarin’ answered, “who also happens to be the pony who will have to drag your dehydrated flank to the hospital for an IV. And I am not about to explain to your sister why you need IV fluids.”

Rapidfire stared down Soarin’ for a long moment as he considered his situation. On one hoof, he really wanted to go back to sleep. On the other hoof, he knew full well that Soarin’ was right. He kind of hated when the oversized stallion was right.

“Fine,” Rapidfire relented before he slowly made his way back into the room.

“The exit is in the opposite direction, genius,” Soarin’ pointed out.

“I know that,” Rapid growled as he retrieved Spitfire’s uniform from the desk, “but if we’re meeting with Spitfire then I’m returning her uniform to her now that it’s been cleaned.” He explained as he carefully folded the uniform and placed it into his saddlebag.

“Whatever.” Soarin’ shrugged before he leaned casually against the doorframe.

After giving the miserable stallion a few minutes to brush his teeth and splash some water over his face, Rapid pushed Soarin’ out of his room.

“All set?” Soarin’ asked.

Rapid grunted a sedate confirmation and Soarin’ gave him a light nudge in the ribs. “Come on, Rapid, you look like you’re walking to your own funeral,” Soarin’ playfully chided.

“Shut up and walk,” Rapid grumbled, his ears flat and his head low.

Soarin’ shrugged and led the disgruntled pegasus down the hall and into the lobby, humming a jaunty tune the whole way while Rapid followed close behind, seemingly under an invisible raincloud. Making their way into the bright outdoors, Rapidfire hissed from the sudden increase in light.

Soarin’ didn’t take much pity on Rapid’s self-inflicted condition.

“Come on buddy,” Soarin’ said as he draped a wing over Rapid’s back. “Pony up and take it like a stallion.”

“I really hate you right now,” Rapidfire glowered at Soarin’.

“That’s nice, dear,” Soarin’ replied.

Rapidfire made a mental note to plot his revenge the minute his head stopped hurting so much. Since flying with a migraine was never a good idea, they trotted down the sidewalk, Soarin’ leading the way while Rapidfire did his best to follow while keeping his eyes mostly closed. Occasionally Soarin’ stretched out his wing to adjust Rapid’s path before he could bump headlong into something or somepony. After a twenty-minute walk they arrived at a small diner’s simply called ‘Zeke’s’. Soarin’ paused for a moment, looking through the small crowd to see if Rainbow and Spitfire were still there.

The place was one of the many indoor/outdoor café’s that lined the streets of Manehattan. A single massive window allowed most of the natural light to filter into the building as well as let the ponies inside see out into the street. Outside, eight round wooden tables were set up with collapsible umbrellas mounted in the middle to provide extra shade on a hot day.

Directly across the street was a comparatively small park area. It only took up the space of a single city block, but that was more than enough room for a decently-sized playground for young fillies and colts to play in. Alongside it were several street vendors, each with their own cart, presumably filled with whatever it was they were selling.

If there was one observation Soarin’ felt comfortable applying to all the ponies in Equestria, it was that they took the idea of ‘lazy Saturdays’ extremely seriously. Soarin’ spotted a perfect example at the nearest table. There, an orange unicorn with a curly brown mane was engaged in discussion with a grey pegasus who’s grey mane was streaked with red. By the look of things, both stallions had long since emptied their plates and were taking their time to enjoy their respective drinks and chat.

At a different table there was a dark-brown earth pony stallion; he had several unfinished maps spread across his table, one of which he was very carefully inking and several others that were rolled and tied with twine poked out of his overstuffed saddlebag. His cutie mark, a bronze compass, gave Soarin’ the idea that this pony was a cartographer of some sort. The stallion set his quill down and reached for his drink, seemingly in no rush to complete his work.

Wonderbolts didn’t have that sort of luxury most of the time. While they had enough downtime to keep healthy and (mostly) sane, they rarely had the chance to just sit and watch the clouds drift by. For the most part, Soarin’ liked that. He was raised to keep busy and productive, but sometimes it was just nice to take things a bit slower.

Not seeing Spitfire or Rainbow Dash outside, Soarin’ trotted into the diner and glanced around. He scanned slowly around the open room, looking for Rainbow’s unique mane or Spitfire’s ginger locks. Finding neither amongst the myriad of colors and styles, he started to retreat out of the diner, hesitating only when a pair of cute mares at the table nearest to him caught his eye.

The one nearest to him was a white unicorn mare with a short cut black mane, but he couldn’t make out what her mark was from his angle. Seated across from her was a tan-colored earth pony mare with a wavy blue mane and a pair of sunglasses perched on her nose. She held a notepad in her hooves that she carefully read over.

“All-in-all,” the first mare said, “I think that should be enough to get them through the day and leave a little to spare.”

The tan mare peered over her glasses at her counterpart. “I guess, but that still leaves ‘em without an opener.”

“That’s your job,” the unicorn mare chirped.

“…Touché,” replied the earth pony.

Before he could accidentally eavesdrop on more of their conversation, Soarin’ turned and trotted back to where Rapidfire was waiting. To his surprise, Rapidfire was looking away from the diner and across the street where Rainbow and Spitfire were trotting in their direction. Soarin’ stopped beside Rapidfire and waited till the two mares were close enough before he spoke.

“Where did you two go?” he asked with a smile.

“We stopped for snow cones,” Spitfire answered.

“Snow cones?” Rapid balked, his face scrunching in confusion. “Where in Equestria did you find snow cones at this time of the year?”

Rainbow pointed across the street to one of the sidewalk vendors. Soarin’ and Rapidfire squinted for a moment before they each spotted the vendor in question. He was a blue unicorn with sweptback mane standing behind what looked to be an icebox on wheels. In his magical grasp, he carefully held out a snow cone to a young unicorn filly that was doing her best to grab it with her own magic. Her mother’s horn flared to life, subtly assisting the filly’s magic.

“Huh,” Soarin’ clucked his tongue, “well, you don’t see that every day.”

“The guy makes good snow cones too,” Rainbow noted with a lick of her lips.

“Well ain’t that swell,” Rapidfire grumbled earning an amused look from Spitfire.

“What train ran you over?” Spitfire asked.

“Rapid had a few too many drinks last night,” Soarin’ said, his right wing giving Rapidfire a playful embrace.

“I hate you,” Rapid grumbled.

“Karma’s a pain in the flank,” Spitfire said, an amused smile on her lips.

“Whatever,” Rapid said with a roll of his eyes. Without any ceremony, he reached into his saddlebag and hoofed over Spitfire’s folded uniform. “It doesn’t smell like a donkey anymore.”

“Thanks,” Spitfire said as she tucked the uniform into her own saddlebag. “So, shall we head in and get a bite?”

“Mrrrgrh...,” Rapid grumbled, his mood still suffering from the effects of the hangover.

“Yup,” Rainbow said.

“Food sounds good,” Soarin’ agreed.

The four pegasi trotted into Zeke’s and got in line at the counter, each taking their turn to order their food. Rainbow and Spitfire each ordered a sandwich, Rainbow with just water, and Spitfire’s with coffee. Soarin’ decided on a salad with tea, and Rapidfire ordered the greasiest foods he could with both a pitcher of water and a coffee.

As they sat down to wait for their food, a peculiar question popped into Spitfire’s mind.

“Hey Rainbow?” Spitfire asked.

“Yeah?” Rainbow said as she sipped at her drink.

“I’ve got a… weird question,” Spitfire said, after a moments thought.

Soarin’ and Rapidfire exchanged a knowing glance.

“Define ‘weird’, Spits,” Rapid said.

“Oh shush you,” Spitfire admonished Rapidfire lightly.

“Proceed...” Rainbow said carefully, having the most peculiar feeling that she was walking into a trap.

“Well,” Spitfire began as she shifted in her seat, “being one of the Elements of Harmony, you’ve spent some time around the princesses, right?”

“Personally? Not as much as you might think,” Rainbow answered. “Twilight spends way more time with them then the rest of us do combined.”

“Still, you’ve been around them both, more than pretty much anypony who isn’t in the royal guard or castle staff, right?” Spitfire asked again.

“Yeah…” Rainbow confirmed slowly. She wasn’t entirely sure where Spitfire was going with this line of questioning.

“So, Rainbow,” Spitfire hooked her foreleg around Rainbow’s waistline, cutting off any chance of escape, “who’s got the better flank?”

“…What?” Rainbow deadpanned.

Soarin’ stared at Spitfire with his face an amusing combination of horror and amusement while Rapidfire snorted his water.

“Celestia or Luna,” Spitfire said in as casual a manner as she could manage, “who’s got the better flank?”

“I…d—” Rainbow groaned and pressed her head into her hooves.

“Oh come on,” Spitfire drawled playfully. “You can’t tell me you haven’t at least looked.”

“No comment,” Rainbow muttered.

“I vote Celestia,” Soarin’ interjected.

“Why’s that?” Spitfire asked with a chuckle.

“Cause her face is on the money.” Soarin’ answered.

“Fair enough,” Spitfire said with a grin. “What about you, Rapid?”

“Celestia,” he answered quickly.

“Why’s that?” Soarin’ asked, lightly elbowing the smaller stallion.

“Cause I’m not interested on getting sent to the moon for the rest of my life,” Rapid answered simply.

Rainbow groaned. “Twilight’s gonna kill me if she ever hears about this.”

Contingency Planning

After finishing their lunch the four pegasi went their separate ways. Spitfire leading Rainbow Dash towards hightown while Soarin’ and Rapidfire made their way to the stadium. Soarin’ had suggested that they fly to save time but Rapid opted to walk, at least until his hangover was a little more tolerable.

Soarin’ had to give Rapidfire credit when it was due. The former mail pegasus knew his limitations and placed safety above all else. Soarin’s respect for that usually allowed him to ignore most of Rapid’s more irritating antics. Usually.

The wide Manehattan streets were abuzz with activity, which was normal, especially for a Saturday. Carts lined the sides of the road, each with a different pony trying to sell their product to the passing crowd. Everything from food to home crafts could be purchased at a reasonable price.

Soarin’ quite liked the city life, always new ponies to meet and new things to try. Rapidfire was less enthralled, partially due to his hangover, but also because of his more pastoral tastes. When he had worked for the Royal Mail, Rapidfire’s days had been spent flying long distances over open country. From what Spitfire had told Soarin’ during their time in the guard, Rapid had always been fond of taking long flights as a way to clear his head.

Soarin’ recalled Rapid once saying he felt claustrophobic in cities—too many tall buildings and ponies between him and the open air. He could understand that sentiment from a certain perspective. It was the nature of a pegasus to fly, much like it was the nature of an earth pony to run or a unicorn to use magic.

It was hard for a pegasus to stretch his or her wings in a crowded street, and even harder to take off and land at will. Soarin’ wondered if that was why most pegasi that made homes on the ground tended to settle in more rural communities. He noticed the tense look on Rapid’s face: a mixture of pain from the hangover and a general discomfort being on the ground.

“Hey, how you holding up there, LT?” Soarin’ said.

“I’ll live,” Rapid answered with an aggravated grunt.

“Well that’s something I guess,” Soarin’ said with a chuckle.

“Whatever,” Rapidfire said, his eyes squinting from the bright sunlight.

Soarin’ fought back a sigh and silently cursed his soft heart. “Hey, we have to pass that pharmacy on the way. We can stop in and get you something for that headache if you want.”

Rapidfire stared in surprise at Soarin’ for a moment. “Uh, all right. Thanks.”

“Don’t thank me yet. I need you functional when we meet with Arcus,” Soarin’ said.

“You really know how to sweet talk a guy, Mallow,” Rapidfire said, the barest hint of a smile teasing at the corner of his lips.

“Rapid, shut up before I change my mind,” Soarin’ replied.

After making the detour into the pharmacy to get a remedy for Rapid’s headache, the two stallions resumed their walk to the stadium. They arrived nearly half an hour later and trotted into the building after a brief pause to ensure they were presentable.

Neither Soarin’ nor Rapid were surprised to find none of the other Wonderbolts lingering around the locker room and weight room. With no press events planned and no shows in the immediate future, most of the team was essentially on leave. In all likelihood everypony was out enjoying their weekend.

Arcus was a different pony entirely. The aging pegasus didn’t seem to understand the concept of a vacation. If he wasn’t working, he wasn’t happy. Soarin’ couldn’t argue with the results, though; he did a good job keeping everything running smoothly.

Soarin’ led Rapidfire to exactly where Arcus had instructed to meet: the team lounge. True to his word, Arcus was there waiting for them. The old stallion had made himself comfortable on one of the couches where he was reading through a stack of letters. A thin framed pair of reading glasses balanced on his snout.

What they didn’t expect to see was Fleetfoot. The cyan mare was reclined on the couch opposite Arcus. In her hooves was a paperback book she was reading, though neither Soarin’ nor Rapid could see what it was. After a moment she noticed them out of the corner of her eye. Sitting up, she saluted before brushing her pale mane from her eyes.

“Hiya, Cap,” she waved to Soarin’ before shifting her gaze to Rapidfire, “LT.”

“Sergeant,” Soarin’ acknowledged her. “What are you doing here?”

“She is here for the same reason I asked the two of you to be here,” Arcus answered as he set the letters down.

“What’s up, boss?” Rapid asked.

“I’ve been thinking more about this rainboom situation,” Arcus said as he slipped off the couch and onto his hooves. “Fleetfoot and I talked it over yesterday, and she made some compelling points.”

“I’m curious why the Sergeant didn’t feel compelled to bring this to my attention first, sir,” Soarin’ said, aiming an annoyed glare in Fleetfoot’s direction.

“You and the Lieutenant weren’t around yesterday, Captain,” Fleetfoot answered.

“Be that as it may, Fleetfoot did bring up a few good points, and before I make a final decision I wanted to get your input as team captain,” Arcus explained.

“Like what?” Rapidfire asked.

“Training,” Fleetfoot answered. “The Wonderbolts are supposed to be the best flyers alive, and for the most part we are. But none of us has ever gotten close to successfully pulling off a rainboom. Everypony who tries just gets sent tumbling off when the barrier snaps back on us.

“Whatever Rainbow Dash figured out in her training regime is probably revolutionary in terms of flight instruction. If we can harness that training, then we can learn the rainboom, and after that, what else can we achieve?” Feetfoot explained with an ambitious grin.

“What do you mean ‘what else we can achieve’? Just what are you getting at, Fleet?” Rapid asked.

“Think about it, Rapid,” Fleetfoot said, “the rainboom was just an old mare’s tale for centuries. Nopony thought it was possible until it happened. So, what’s beyond the rainboom? If we can do that, what’s the next plateau we can reach?”

“Ooookay,” Rapid said as he shot an uncomfortable look to Soarin.

Soarin’ struggled to keep a neutral look on his face as he processed his situation. He had underestimated Fleetfoot’s tenacity on the matter. He had assumed that she would leave well enough alone until Arcus had made a decision. It was a mistake he intended never to make again.

More importantly, it left him and Rapid in a very precarious position. They were the only two that knew Spitfire and Rainbow were dating. Soarin’ could see quite well just how badly the next few minutes could blow up in his face, should he handle the situation wrong. Not for the first time, he wished Spitfire had never injured her wing.

“May I speak with you in private, sir?” Soarin’ asked.

Arcus regarded Soarin’ thoughtfully for a moment before he nodded. “Alright Captain. Fleetfoot, Rapidfire, please wait in the hall.”

Rapidfire and Fleetfoot gave Arcus a crisp salute before they left the room. Soarin’ waited until the door clicked shut before he allowed himself to breathe again. Arcus circled around the couch, his eyes focused on Soarin’ the whole time. The Wonderbolt felt a nervous sweat start to form on his brow. He found his respect for Spitfire increasing; Arcus could be a very intimidating pony when he wanted to be.

“Speak your mind, Captain,” Arcus quietly stated.

Soarin’ cleared his throat and took a deep breath before he spoke. “Sir, I-I um…I think there’s something you should know.”

“I assume this ‘something’ pertains to the question of the rainboom?” Arcus asked.

“Yes sir.” Soarin’ replied.

“All right, Captain, I’m listening.”

“Sir, I um…I’ve known Rainbow Dash has been in town since Wednesday.”

Arcus’ eyes narrowed almost imperceptibly from the information. “And how did you come across her?”

“Spitfire ran into her, sir,” Soarin’ said.

“And how did Spitfire find her?” Arcus asked.

“I don’t know, sir,” Soarin’ answered.

“Well then what do you…” Arcus’ words died as his eyes widened. “Oh no. Soarin’, please tell me Spitfire isn’t trying to date Rainbow Dash!”

“W-what? N-no, sir. What would give you that idea?” Soarin’ asked, a fit of panic welling up in his chest.

“I know she’s been thinking about dating again,” Arcus said, doing his best keep his voice down, “and with any other mare that would be fine! We can keep that on the down low. But this isn’t any other pony; Rainbow Dash is one of the Elements of Harmony. All six of them are national heroes as well as high-level defense assets. If the media finds out the scandal will bury Spitfire’s career, not to mention the collateral damage to the Wonderbolts and to Rainbow Dash!”

“I—” Soarin’ started, only to be cut off by Arcus.

“Celestia forbid if Red Top gets wind of this. I can see the scandal now, ‘Wonderbolt seduces Element of Harmony!’ In big red letters!” Arcus’ shoulders slumped and his posture slackened. “I can’t protect her from that; I can’t protect any of you from that!”

Arcus took a moment to catch his breath, reaching up with a lightly trembling hoof to remove his glasses, which he then set on the couch. Soarin’ couldn’t recall ever the older pegasus looking so hopeless. It was extremely disconcerting.

“So please, Soarin’,” Arcus began, suddenly feeling his age, “please tell me Spitfire isn’t trying to date Rainbow Dash.”

“N-no, ” Soarin’ lied, “if anything they’re becoming friends.”

Arcus took a moment to process the information, his gaze studying Soarin’s expression. There were far too many unknowns for his liking. Without more information he couldn’t make a judgement call. Without more information he was helpless. Arcus hated being helpless. He needed a plan, and he needed that plan quickly.

“All right,” Arcus began, “Soarin’, I need you to do me a favor.”

“Yes sir?” Soarin’ said, his posture stiffening.

“Keep a close eye on Spitfire when you can. Watch her back. I don’t want to lose the best Wonderbolt I’ve ever seen to a damned tabloid witch hunt.”

“Yes sir, but what about Rainbow Dash?” Soarin’ asked.

Arcus took a deep breath that he slowly breathed out through his mouth. His jaw hung slightly open for several long moments as he chose his words. “The rainboom is a very useful asset that the Wonderbolts would do well to have access to.”

“…But?” Soarin’ asked.

“But I’m concerned about media perception. If it looks like we are taking advantage of Rainbow Dash then the blowback would be catastrophic. Worst-case scenario: Princess Celestia takes direct action. If that happens, we’re all out of a job,” Arcus explained as he rubbed his temple with a hoof.

“So what are we doing with Fleetfoot’s proposal?” Soarin’ asked.

“Fleetfoot has been discussing it with everypony on the team. Last I checked only you, Rapidfire, Misty, and Surprise are still against approaching Rainbow Dash. Everypony else is in favor of looking for her,” Arcus said.

“What about you sir?” Soarin’ asked.

“That depends,” Arcus said with a sigh.

“On what?” Soarin’ wondered, his head tilting curiously.

“On how involved Spitfire has become in the situation,” Arcus answered.

“Sound’s like you’ve got some things in mind.” Soarin’ noted.

Arcus scoffed, “You could say that.”

“Care to enlighten me?” Soarin’ asked.

“You said Spitfire seems to be making friends with Rainbow Dash, correct?” Arcus asked, turning his head to face Soarin’.

“I think so, yes.” Soarin’ answered.

“All right, we might be able to use that,” Arcus said as he rubbed his chin with his foreleg.

“What do you mean?” Soarin’ asked.

“If Spitfire and Rainbow Dash become friends, then it is within reason for her to ask about the rainboom,” Arcus reasoned.

“What if she says ‘no’?” Soarin’ countered.

Arcus hesitated as he thought of an answer. “We’ll cross that bridge if or when we get there. For now at least, I think it may be prudent to test the waters.”

“So you’re on Fleetfoot’s side,” Soarin’ said, the hint of disapproval in his tone did not go unnoticed by Arcus.

“Is there a problem here that I need to be aware of, Captain?” Arcus asked.

“No sir,” Soarin’ answered.

“Soarin’, tell me what the issue is or I will find out the hard way,” Arcus stated.

The implication sent a cold shiver down Soarin’s spine. Still, he maintained the neutral visage perfected from years in the Royal Guard.

“The sergeant is a bit of a hothead, sir, and I don’t like ponies going behind my back with an issue,” Soarin’ explained.

Arcus nodded. “I agree. Fleetfoot is headstrong and tenacious, but you’re the captain now, Soarin’. If there’s an issue it’s your job to resolve it.”

“Yes sir, I understand,” Soarin’ replied.

“Good.” Arcus sighed and rubbed his eyes wearily. “Do you know if you’ll see Spitfire again today?”

“I’m not sure. Rapid might, though,” Soarin’ answered.

“All right. One of you please tell Spitfire that first thing Monday morning she is to report here to meet with the team physician. He wants to take a look at her wing.”

“I’ll make sure she get’s the message,” Soarin’ answered. “Can I make a request though, sir?”

“You may,” Arcus said.

“Could you not mention the Rainbow Dash situation to the rest of the team? I’d like the chance to talk to Spitfire about it in private first,” Soarin’ said.

Arcus thought the request over for a moment before he nodded in agreement. “All right, Soarin’. All right.”

Catch-22

Quick Snap stared into the teacup clasped firmly in his hooves, his eyes focused on his reflection in the amber liquid. The warmth had long since left the ceramic vessel, dissipating in the gentle breeze. Quick couldn’t recall the precise time when Red Top had excused himself from the table. He was reasonably sure it had been around the time his tea was still hot. With a sigh, the dejected pegasus set the cup down on the table, his thirst long forgotten.

Sitting to the left of his drink was his favorite camera, an old thirty-five millimeter his grandfather had given him when Quick was a colt. The luster had long since faded from the textured metal body which was scored with countless little scrapes, scratches, and dings. The rewind lever had fallen off years ago and the flash bulb had burned out…well, Quick couldn’t remember exactly when. Still, Quick loved that ugly, old, and functionally questionable camera.

Sure it wasn’t as nice as some of the more modern cameras that Quick had access to, but none of those reminded him of his Grandpa. None of those cameras seemed to capture the colors of a moment so richly. None of those cameras had any character to their shots.

A small frown pulled at the corners of Quick’s mouth. He reached out with his left hoof to stroke the cool metal body. The camera was quintessential to some of his earliest and most cherished memories. The pictures he had taken with it had gotten him his first job, paid for his first apartment, and introduced him to his wife.

It had been that old camera, wielded for the last time by his grandfather, which had photographed his wedding day. Only a few short years later it took the first photos of his newborn daughter. Two years after that, it had photographed her baby brother.

In due time, Quick would use it to take pictures of his children’s weddings. He looked forward to photographing their foals when they arrived. And when the time came, he looked forward to sitting his grandchild on his lap, supporting the heavy old camera in their little hooves, and helping them take their first photographs, just like his grandfather had done with him so many years before.

A meager smile supplanted Quick’s frown as he recalled those fond memories. All those precious moments had passed through the lens of his camera. The photos it took held everything from the dreams of a budding young couple to the limitless potential of a newborn foal. So many priceless little moments frozen in time to be shared and cherished.

Then the paper he had been working for had assigned him to cover the wedding of Princess Cadence and Captain Shining Armor in Canterlot. It had been the opportunity of a lifetime for Quick, a chance to get his work seen by ponies in high society. He had been ecstatic about the offer and accepted the assignment in a Manehattan minute.

When Quick arrived in Canterlot, he had set to work the instant that the press ponies were allowed to begin. In his zeal he went—perhaps—a bit overboard in his duties. Quick photographed everything he was allowed to point his camera at: everything from the Royal Guard in their parade uniforms to floral arrangements wrapped in gossamer ribbons and ornately sculptured shrubberiesHe even photographed the oversized pastries that gave him a toothache just to look at. The interplay of edges and textures, the diffusion of the afternoon’s light through the humid summer air, and the constantly changing palette of colors as the cool mornings gave way to the warm evenings. Then, amid the golden glow of countless candles, Quick had still more little moments to capture. Innumerable little stories he could tell in a single image. It was a photographer’s dream.

Then the inevitable wedding day had arrived. Quick had woken up early that morning to get the best spot in the press gallery for the day’s events. With the exception of the event’s official photographer, the press had been barred from covering the actual ceremony. The gallery Quick had been waiting in since the early morning was situated just outside where the newlywed would present themselves to the citizens of Canterlot.

That was when everything had gone wrong.

Quick had been enjoying a spirited discussion with another photographer about various darkroom techniques when a blast of magical energy from inside the cathedral startled them all. Before they knew what was happening, the barrier around Canterlot shattered and a horde of changelings poured into the city. In the ensuing chaos, Quick had tried to flee, only to be tackled to the ground by several changelings.

A shiver ran through Quick’s body and he bit down on his lower lip as his wings wrapped tight around his core. The panic had sent him into a severe asthma attack that left him hospitalized for days after the changelings had been repelled. He had missed the entire wedding along with all the pomp and circumstance surrounding it. Work became harder and harder to come by for a long time after that. Quick’s limited savings had been dwindling with disturbing alacrity with the day-to-day expenses of life.

That was when he had run into Red Top outside of Manehattan General Hospital, and the moment he had been offered a chance to work again. All he had to do in exchange was get a few simple photographs of Vinyl Scratch. What he didn’t know, what nopony knew, had been Vinyl’s condition.

The memory of what he found in that empty room still haunted Quick. He could still smell the antiseptics, dried blood, and gauze. Quick sucked in a sharp breath through his mouth as a brief bout of vertigo made him waver in his seat.

Still, after all that, Red Top had kept true to his word. When Quick had delivered the pictures, Red had paid him a very handsome sum and even got him in touch with a studio he could work for. Even with a more-or-less reliable income, Quick couldn’t remember feeling more vulnerable in his life.

He was a pegasus, born and raised in Cloudsdale. Like every pegasus, he loved the Wonderbolts. Like many young colts, he had even once entertained dreams of wearing that iconic blue and gold uniform while performing death defying tricks to the adulations of an adoring crowd. Now, as a grown stallion who’s flying ability was mediocre at best, it seemed it was his role to attack the very thing he idolized. Quick scoffed at the irony of it all.

His gaze shifted to the innocuous paper slip Red had left him with that contained the address of the Wonderbolt’s hotel. Quick frowned, wanting nothing more than to crush the paper underhoof, throw it away, and go back home without a second thought. But if he did that, what would Red Top do? Would he really make good on his threat of exposing Quick’s identity? If that happened, would Quick be fired from his job? Arrested? At the very least, he’d gain the mistrust of every pony in Equestria.

With a weary sigh, Quick took the paper and read over the address again. There didn’t seem to be any other choice. He slipped his beloved camera into his saddlebag and tossed a couple bits onto the table for a tip. After taking one last drink from his cup, he gazed up to the sky to get an idea of the time. Estimating it to be roughly eleven o’clock, he stretched his wings. Even for him, it was only a short flight from the cafe. If he was lucky, he’d see a whole lot of nothing and he could at least tell Red that he tried.

With a jump, Quick took to the skies, his wings carrying him over the crowded streets. Getting above the rooftops, he bypassed several city blocks in a few minute’s time. Spotting the hotel easily enough, he came to a landing across the street from the pavillion where there was a bench he could relax on while not looking too conspicuous.

Quick Snap set his saddlebags beside him and fished his inhaler out, taking a puff from it as he settled in. To his great surprise, he didn’t have to wait very long before two pegasi trotted out of the lobby. Quick recognized them instantly: Soarin’ and Rapidfire.

For the briefest of moments, his inner fancolt took over. It took everything Quick Snap had not to run over and beg for an autograph. As much as he would have loved to get a genuine Wonderbolt’s autograph, he lacked both a marker and anything to write on. The fact that it would also expose him as a photographer didn’t particularly help matters. Quick sighed, taking a moment to rub his eyes with his foreleg. He didn’t have the best view, but it didn’t take much to see something wasn’t right with one of the two Wonderbolts.

Firstly, they were walking. A healthy pegasus would only ever walk from place to place when they were accompanied by an earth pony or a unicorn. It was simply impolite to fly around a flightless partner. Secondly, Rapidfire didn’t look well. It was in the way he carried himself down the street with his head down a pained look on his face.

Quick Snap’s lips pulled into a pained frowned as his ears folded back. He didn’t want to do this; he didn’t want to be the pony that vindicated Red Top’s information. He didn’t want to be the pony that killed the careers of his idols in order to live. But if he didn’t… Quick didn’t have the courage to find out what could happen. A soft whimper escaped his throat as he reached into his saddlebag and pulled out his camera. Without a working flash bulb in his camera, the only way Soarin’ or Rapidfire would notice him was if he made himself obvious.

He waited until he was sure neither Soarin’ or Rapidfire were looking in his direction before he lifted the camera to his face. After taking a moment to adjust his view, Quick centered the two unsuspecting pegasi in the frame and snapped his first picture. His grandfather’s camera clicked once as the shutter snapped open and shut. Soarin’ and Rapidfire kept walking, completely oblivious to Quick’s work.

He remained still for several moments after taking the picture, his right eye watching them from the viewfinder. His lips were pressed into a tight line and his eyebrows knitted together in self-disgust. Slowly he lowered the camera from his sight, the old metal feeling heavy in his hooves.

Quick shook his head as his gaze turned down to the old camera. What would his grandpa think of him now? Quick scoffed: the old stallion would have been heartbroken to see how far Quick had fallen in life. Quick sighed again as he retrieved the camera’s neck strap from his back and attached it to the metal frame. Once the camera was secured around his neck he trotted in the direction that the Wonderbolts had gone.

They hadn’t gotten too far since Quick had taken the picture, and two pegasi walking the streets of Manehattan were easy enough to spot. Quick stayed far enough behind them that he could remain unnoticed while keeping them in sight. He chewed anxiously on his lower lip to quell an anxious shiver that was spreading through his body.

After walking for a while, the Wonderbolts came to a stop in front of Zeke’s diner. Quick hesitated for a moment before he crossed over to the opposite side of the street. He would have a better angle from there and be less noticeable if they spotted him fiddling with a camera around all the street vendors. If that happened, he could always pretend to be a tourist.

Quick found a good spot under the shade of a small tree. From his position he had a clear view of Rapidfire, who was standing outside of the diner with a miserable look on his face. Quick wasn’t sure where Soarin’ had gone until the Wonderbolt in question emerged from the diner, a confused look on his face. The confusion evaporated as Spitfire and a sky-blue mare with a rainbow mane and tail trotted over to him and Rapid.

Quick arched an eyebrow, his curiosity piqued. He lifted his camera to his face and snapped a set of pictures just as Soarin’s wing pulled Rapidfire into a light hug. Quick recoiled slightly, surprised by the gesture more than anything. He had heard the rumors about Soarin’s preferences, but he never would have thought it would have been with Spitfire’s brother.

With a shrug, Quick Snap lined up another photograph, this time trying to get a better look at the mare with the rainbow mane. He knew the Wonderbolt’s active roster like he knew the back of his hoof. He did not know who that mare was, which made him curious if she was a new recruit. Anypony that spent one-on-one time with Captain Spitfire had to be an impressive flyer.

He took a few photos of the unknown mare, frowning as he couldn’t get a shot of her face from his angle. The four pegasi talked for a moment before the blue mare pointed her hoof across the street at one of the street vendors. Quick followed the gesture to where he noticed a unicorn selling snow cones. Quick’s mouth watered. He quite liked snow cones.

Shaking his head to clear the distraction from his thoughts, he focused back on the three Wonderbolts and the unknown mare. To his shock, he saw Rapidfire pull a folded Wonderbolt uniform from his saddlebag, which he unceremoniously hoofed over to Spitfire. Quick reacted on instinct, instantly snapping multiple photos of the exchange until the blue and gold uniform was hidden away in Spitfire’s saddlebag.

Quick’s inner fancolt wanted nothing more than to beg Rapidfire not to turn in his uniform and quit the team. On the other hoof, Soarin’ was the team’s lieutenant. Having an affair with a subordinate was probably very bad for team cohesion. There had also been longstanding rumors of favoritism when it came to Rapidfire’s career.

He groaned and shook his head, his right hoof pressing against the bridge of his nose. If he lived for a thousand years, Quick would never understand why some ponies were so put out by the idea of same-sex couples. Love was supposed to be love, right? Did it matter if the pony happened to have the same equipment downstairs?

Quick shook his head again to dislodge the errant thoughts from his mind. Just as he refocused his attention on the diner, he watched as the four pegasi disappeared inside. Quick blinked several times as he processed his situation. Eventually a grin spread over his face as a realization hit him: he now had time to get a snow cone.

Suppressing a happy squeal, if for no other reason than he didn’t feel like being stared at by everypony on the street, Quick trotted over to the snow cone vendor. A few minutes later and a few bits poorer, Quick relaxed on one of the grassy knolls overlooking the street. From there he could keep an eye on the diner and look like a normal pony enjoying his summertime treat. At least for a few minutes, he could forget his troubles and enjoy the day.

All too soon, Spitfire, Soarin’, Rapidfire, and the rainbow-headed mare emerged from the diner. Quick zoomed in on them with his camera, snapping a clearer picture of their faces, including the unknown mare’s. Spitfire, Soarin’, and the rainbow mare seemed to be engaged in an amusing story, while Rapidfire looked noticeably uncomfortable. Quick squeezed his eyes shut as he snapped another picture. He wished all four of them would just fly away so Red Top would no longer have a story to investigate, and by proxy, Quick wouldn’t have to take clandestine photographs.

After a brief conversation, the four pegasi parted ways. Spitfire and the rainbow mare trotted towards hightown while Soarin’ and Rapid headed in the opposite direction. Quick hesitated as he considered which pair to shadow. He only had a couple photos of Spitfire and the unknown mare, and no idea if Spitfire had the injury that had garnered Red Top’s interest. Still, Spitfire looked much healthier than her brother did.

Making his decision, Quick gathered his things and slipped his camera back around his neck before he trotted off after Soarin’ and Rapidfire, making a mental note to follow up on Spitfire tomorrow. For the time being at least, Rapidfire was the more interesting story.

Quick trailed Soarin’ and Rapidfire for a while, watching the two talk from a very safe distance. The pair came to a stop outside a small pharmacy, Soarin’ nudging Rapidfire inside. Quick Snap winced as he photographed the moment, memories of the Vinyl Scratch incident flashing before his eyes.

Quick looked down at the camera in his hooves for a long while. The cold, metal block felt like lead in his hooves. He looked up several minutes later when he spotted Soarin’ and Rapidfire emerge from the small establishment. They spoke for a few moments, oblivious to Quick’s presence.

Glancing back down at his camera, Quick stared at his reflection in the lens, his lips pulled into a deep frown. He couldn’t bring himself to lift the camera anymore. With a sigh, he removed the camera from around his neck and placed it carefully into his saddlebag before turning around and jumping into the skies with a grunt.

Quick made himself a promise as he flew home. After he had resolved his ‘debt’ to Red Top, he would never do that kind of work again. He couldn’t live with himself like this.

Contingency Planning (Part II)

Soarin’ couldn’t help feeling at least a little pathetic as he sat beside the door to Spitfire’s empty hotel suite. The occasional ponies that passed him in the hall all took the time to shoot him a variety of interesting looks. Soarin’s personal favorite was either the look of ‘you just got into a hay of a fight with your marefriend’ or the look of ‘you’re clearly too proud to admit to the hotel staff that you locked yourself out’. As was often the case in life, the truth was far more pedestrian in nature—though no less pathetic.

After his conversation earlier in the day with Arcus, Soarin’ was feeling on edge. He didn’t like to lie to anypony, least of all the pony that quite literally signed his paycheck. At the same time, he didn’t want to betray Spitfire’s trust in him. He would always be her El-Tee. She trusted him, and he trusted her in kind. He owed her too much to not put his own neck on the line.

Soarin’ sighed as he ran his hoof through his mane. He much preferred being the lieutenant. Being the second in command meant that, while he had the authority to do almost anything, he still had Spitfire to keep him in check. Furthermore, he could always pass problems up to her when he didn’t want to deal with them.

His role as captain was the other reason he had parked himself outside of Spitfire’s suite. He wanted Spitfire’s advice about Fleetfoot. Rapidfire had suggested he speak with Fleetfoot directly before they left. Soarin’ had opted to get some professional advice, first. And who better than Spitfire to advise an interim captain like him.

There were only two problems with Soarin’s plan. First, he had no clue when Spitfire planned to return from her day out with Rainbow Dash. That lack of knowledge is why he had spent the better part of two hours sitting beside the door. Second, and perhaps more pressing of a concern, he was bored out of his mind.

In the time since he had sat down to wait, Soarin’ had preened his wings—twice. He had then counted all the plucked feathers, counted all his primary feathers, calculated the flight time from the hotel to his favorite pie shop, and recounted in detail every cocktail recipe he knew. Soarin regretted not bringing something to read. A book, a magazine—hay, even one of those trashy tabloids would be a welcome relief from the boredom. He wondered, briefly, if that was half the reason tabloids even existed.

Leaning his head back until it lightly bumped against the wall, he blew a raspberry and kicked at the floor with a hoof.

“Bored,” he mumbled, thumping his head against the wall several times, “bored, bored, bored, bored, boooooooooooored.”

Soarin’ groaned and allowed himself to slide down the wall until he was flat on his back with his legs in the air. “How do the Palace guards do this sort of stuff all day? Why couldn’t they teach us that stupid trick in basic?”

After a few moments of laying on the floor like a whining foal, Soarin’ hefted himself back to his original sitting position. He tapped his hoof against the floor as if it would somehow make the time pass quicker. After about thirty seconds when he got bored of that, he closed his eyes and hummed softly. Soon, an old melody crept to the forefront of his mind. It was a song his mother used to sing around the house when he was little. Soarin’s head began to slowly nod in time with the melody.

“Hejo, spann den Wagen an,” he sang, mindful to keep his voice down. “Denn der Wind treibt Regen übers Land, Hol die goldnen Garben, Hol die goldnen Garben. Hejo, spann den Wagen an, Denn der Wind treibt—”

“Mallow, what are you doing?” Rapidfire asked.

“Gah!” Soarin’ yelped, his wings flaring out as his eyes snapped open.

Rapidfire covered his mouth with a hoof to stifle his laughter.

“H-how long have you been there?” Soarin’ demanded.

“Long enough to hear your little, uh… concert, Mallow,” Rapid answered.

Soarin’ groaned and pressed a hoof to his forehead, "Celestia erschlage mich"

Rapid rolled his eyes before giving Soarin’s shoulder a light smack. “In Equish please.”

“Do you need something, Rapid?” Soarin’ asked.

“Not from you, no,” Rapid said as he sat next to Soarin’.

A smirk spread over Soarin’s face. “Tell me again why you had Spitfire’s uniform this morning?”

An intense blush spread over Rapidfire’s cheeks for a moment before a smirk of his own crossed his lips. He casually wrapped his foreleg around Soarin’s shoulders and leaned a bit too close for Soarin’s comfort.

“Cause you’d fill it out in all the right places, babe,” Rapid purred.

Soarin’ narrowed his eyes. If Rapidfire wanted a war, Soarin’ would give him a war. He lifted his left hoof and used it to caress Rapid’s cheek. The gesture took Rapidfire by complete surprise, nearly sending him toppling backward.

“Oh honey,” Soarin’ cooed, “but you’d look so much better in her uniform.”

Before Rapidfire could formulate a response, or an escape plan, their ears perked to the familiar sound of approaching hoofsteps. Quickly disentangling from each other, Soarin’ and Rapid did their best to look natural, which wasn’t the easiest of feats when both their faces were burning red. To their mutual horror, the pony trotting towards them was Spitfire. The former captain had a smile on her lips and a spring in her step as she trotted towards them.

“Hey guys, what’s—” She came to a stop in front of them, her left eyebrow arching upward. “Uh, you two alright?”

“Yup!” Soarin’ and Rapid answered simultaneously.

Spitfire blinked and watched them for a moment. “You sure?”

“Yup!” they answered again.

“Oookay,” Spitfire said as she stepped past them to unlock the door to her room. “Well, it’s actually kinda convenient that the both of you are here.”

Soarin’ and Rapidfire exchanged a worried glance.

“The Bad Seeds are playing tomorrow night at the Stonewall Bar and Grille,” Spitfire said as she pushed the door open and motioned them to follow her. “Rainbow asked if you two wanted to join us as well.”

“Why would she invite us?” Soarin’ asked, his face scrunching in mild confusion.

“Cause she had a lot of fun hanging out with the three of us Friday night and thought it’d be nice to do it again,” Spitfire answered as she trotted into her room and set her saddlebags on the floor. After taking a moment to stretch out her back she turned to face the two stallions. “So, you two interested?”

“Uh, sure,” Rapid answered.

“When does it start, where would we meet you, and when does it end?” Soarin’ asked.

The faintest hint of a smirk tugged at the corner of Spitfire’s lips. “The show starts at eight, Rainbow and I would meet you there at seven, and it ends whenever the music stops.”

Soarin’ rubbed his chin as he thought over the information. “I guess as long as Rapid and I leave no later than ten, it should be fine.”

“What, why?” Rapid balked.

“Tomorrow is Sunday, Rapidfire,” Soarin’ said.

“Yeah, so?”

“So, you and I have to work on Monday.”

“Bah,” Rapidfire gave Soarin’ a flippant wave of his hoof. “We’ll just call in dead.”

“I don’t think Arcus would appreciate that,” Soarin’ replied with an amused snort.

“That would depend on the day,” Spitfire interjected.

“What makes you say that?” Rapid asked.

“Well, remember when you greased the toilet seats?” Spitfire asked.

Rapid snickered and Soarin’ shot a death glare to the smaller stallion.

“That was you?!” he growled.

“Hey, she made me do it!” Rapid laughed, pointing a hoof at his sister.

Soarin’s glare shifted to Spitfire, who immediately held her hooves up in surrender.

“What in the world possessed you to do that?” Soarin’ demanded.

“In fairness, it seemed like a great idea at the time,” Spitfire answered.

“W-what about in HINDsight?” Rapid asked as he burst into gales of laughter.

Soarin’s eye twitched as his rational mind ground to a momentary halt. He noticed Spitfire biting her foreleg in an attempt to quell her own laughter. Soarin’ came to a realization; he was surrounded by crazy ponies. He forced himself to take a deep breath, which he held for a few seconds before he exhaled slowly.

“You’re both insane,” Soarin’ noted.

“Sanity is overrated,” Spitfire replied with a manic grin.

“And totally boring!” Rapid added from his position on the floor.

“Anyway,” Spitfire began after she regained some semblance of control, “what brings you two here?”

“I’m just here to pester you,” Rapid answered.

“Well, at least you’re honest about it,” Spitfire mused.

“I try.” Rapid happily chirped.

“What about you, Soarin’?” Spitfire asked her friend.

“Wonderbolt stuff,” he answered.

Spitfire nodded, “Well, why don’t you two come inside and grab something from the minibar.”

“My liver still needs to recover from last night,” Rapid groaned.

Spitfire snickered, “well, that’ll learn you a thing or three.”

Spitfire trotted into her room, Soarin’ and Rapidfire following close behind her. Rapidfire closed the door with a light kick. Spitfire made her way over to the minibar and fished through it momentarily for a few drinks. She retrieved three bottles of water and hoofed one to both Rapid and Soarin’ before she sat down.

“So,” She began, her attention focused on Soarin’, “what’s on your mind?”

“A couple things,” Soarin’ mumbled as he played with the small bottle of water. “Fleetfoot’s been convincing most of the team we should look for Rainbow and ask her to teach us the Rainboom.”

“I thought Celestia said ‘no’ to that whole idea,” Rapidfire said before taking a sip of his drink.

“Celestia said she wouldn’t give Rainbow Dash an assignment to train us,” Spitfire corrected her brother, “she never said we couldn’t approach Rainbow on our own. Granted, she implied that we shouldn’t do that either.”

“I had to tell Arcus that you had run into Rainbow,” Soarin’ said.

“You what?!” Spitfire blurted.

Soarin’ held up his hooves in a placating manner. “Whoa there, I didn’t tell him you started dating her. I just told him that you ran into her on the town and were talking to her.”

“Does he suspect anything?” Spitfire asked. Almost immediately she smacked herself in the forehead. “Oh, what am I saying? It’s Arcus; he always suspects.”

Soarin’ nodded. “He wants you to come by the stadium on Monday morning. Triage is gonna take a look at your wing.”

Spitfire nodded, her hoof rubbing her chin as she considered her situation. Triage was the team’s physician, and probably the only pony Arcus actually trusted. If he wanted Spitfire to specifically go to the stadium to see Triage then it probably meant Arcus planned to confront her directly. If he did that, Spitfire would need a plan of action to defend her budding relationship with Rainbow.

She sighed, her hoof running through her mane. Perhaps tomorrow she would talk to Rainbow about it first. Spitfire still wasn’t sure how Rainbow might react to that sort of attention. Come to think of it, she wasn’t sure if Rainbow was even willing to teach anypony the rainboom.

If it came down to that, would Fleetfoot or Blaze press the issue? Spitfire had already decided to side with Rainbow Dash if it came to that. Soarin’, Rapidfire, Misty, and Surprise would, in all likelihood, stand with her on that decision. But Spitfire didn’t know what long-term effects that sort of schism could have on her team.

Stunt flying required a lot of things, athleticism, a sharp mind, and good instincts. But it also heavily required the complete and unflinching trust between wingponies. Spitfire trusted Soarin’ to catch her if she fell, a trust that had been well and truly earned after years of flying together. Well, except for that last time, but that had been entirely her fault.

Either way, any sense of bitterness between teammates was nothing less than dangerous. She knew none of her Wonderbolt’s would do anything to intentionally sabotage one another; they were better than that. Still, that fundamental distrust of one’s wingpony could lead to oversights. There was no room for oversights in stunt flying. Not if you wanted to land safe and sound on all four hooves, at least.

Spitfire pursed her lips as her eyebrows knitted together. Folding her forelegs across her chest, she hummed to herself. She made a mental note to get Rainbow’s opinion on the matter. Perhaps the weather manager’s different perspective would yield some answers. And she owed it to Rainbow to be honest with her about what was going on.

“So,” Rapid spoke up, interrupting Spitfire’s thoughts, “what are you gonna do?”

“Well,” Spitfire began slowly, “I think I’ll enjoy the rest of my weekend and deal with Arcus when the time comes.”

“What about Fleetfoot?” Soarin’ asked, “any advice for me?”

Spitfire considered the question for a long moment before she answered. “Let’s see, this week is when most of the team goes on vacation, right?”

“Yeah, Arcus, Rapid, and I have a few meetings, but other then that everypony has the next couple weeks off.” Soarin’ answered.

“Okay, here’s what you do,” Spitfire began as she sat up straight, “tell Fleetfoot that you will think it over during the break and you will have a decision when the team reassembles in two weeks for the preseason planning. Throw her a bone and tell her to prepare some plans on how we might approach Rainbow, and what sort of arrangement we could offer her as compensation. Also make it clear that if Rainbow at any point says ‘no’ to the deal, then she is to drop it immediately.”

“Makes sense,” Rapid said with a nod. “It gives her something to do and stops the politicking for a while at least.”

“Yeah,” Soarin’ agreed, “but I’m concerned about what happens if Rainbow doesn’t want to train us or she finds out we’re the ones running interference for her.”

“If it comes to that, I’ll deal with Fleetfoot personally,” Spitfire said.

Bad Seeds (Part I)

Rainbow had a spring in her step as she trotted down Mane Street toward Spitfire’s hotel. Had somepony told her a month ago that she would have gone out on a series of dates with Spitfire, Rainbow would have died laughing. Yet here she was, almost giddy for her impending date.

Part of the reason for her excitement was the prospect of seeing a live band. The musicians she had seen friday night at the Café Amaréicain had certainly been nice, but that wasn’t really up Rainbow’s alley. The Bad Seeds were classic griffon rock like the songs her dad played on the gramophone when she was just a filly. Amplified guitars, pounding drumbeats, wicked solos, and soaring choruses were what she longed for in music.

Rainbow fondly recalled the days where she would stand on her dad’s back when he took her to see the bands that toured Cloudsdale. The older she got, the closer he took her to the stage. Finally, when she was in her teens, he got them tickets to see one of their favorite bands from the front row.

She had loved it, of course. The pounding bass that resonated in her chest, the screaming guitars that made her ears ring. It had been somewhat of a revelatory experience for the young mare, almost as much as pulling off her first rainboom had been.

Perhaps Rainbow’s only regret in accepting the job as Ponyville’s weather manager had been the distance it put between her and Cloudsdale. As it stood, she no longer had the time to regularly see her dad. While they both tried their best, it was very difficult to coordinate their schedules to see shows together anymore. Perhaps that was why she was so excited to see a live show with her new marefriend.

Marefriend. The Marefriend, the word stuck in her mind and caused a hitch in her trot. Rainbow had never had a marefriend before. Hay, she had never even really had a proper date before Spitfire had stumbled across her. Rainbow wondered what it was that had perked Spitfire’s romantic interest in her.

Spitfire was a mare who had seemingly everything going for her in life. As a Wonderbolt, she had money, fame, and star power. Similarly, as a member of the Royal Equestrian Airforce, she had confidence, rank, and leadership skills. In comparison, what Dash had to offer seemed fairly trivial.

Rainbow, after all, was a mid-level weather manager from Ponyville. The only weather managers less influential than her were the poor saps running Appleoosa and Dodge City. Rainbow could at least empathize with the manager of Dodge City. The biggest difference between that town and Ponyville was the Dodge City cherry industry versus the Ponyville apple industry. The weather team in Appleoosa was a joke even to themselves.

Rainbow didn’t consider herself to be a particularly attractive mare. She put literally no effort into her mane, she rarely dressed up—and even then only did so at the insistence of her overly-prissy fashionista friend Rarity, and she would sooner rip out her pinions than wear makeup. That said, Rainbow didn’t consider herself to be a bad looking mare either.

So if it wasn’t her looks that first caught Spitfire’s attention, then what had it been? Spitfire had the status, looks, and smarts to get any mare or stallion she wanted, so what made Rainbow so special? Rainbow sighed and shook her head free of the errant thoughts. She made herself a mental note to ask Spitfire about it later. Today she just wanted to enjoy a good show.

A smile bloomed across her face as she came into view of the hotel. Spitfire, Soarin’, and Rapidfire were waiting for her by the doors. The three Wonderbolts were chatting about something that Rainbow couldn’t hear as she trotted over to them. Soarin’ noticed her first and elbowed Spitfire’s side to draw her attention. Spitfire’s irritation with her lieutenant quickly faded into a smile as she noticed Rainbow.

“Hey, Dash!” she said as she trotted over to meet Rainbow. “Right on time.”

Before she could reply, Spitfire pulled Rainbow into an affectionate hug. She blushed a little even as she returned the gesture.

“I do my best,” Rainbow said as they separated. Looking past Spitfire, she waved to Soarin’ and Rapid. “Hey guys, what’s up?”

Rapidfire looked up to the sky. “By the look of things, I’d say the sun, a few clouds, a couple birds, a few weather ponies.”

Soarin’ groaned and rolled his eyes. “Rapidfire, shut up before you hurt yourself.”

“I love you too, Mallow.” Rapidfire said, sticking his tongue out at Soarin’.

Spitfire shook her head and chuckled while Rainbow stared at the stallions in confusion.

“Okay, we’re all too sober for this conversation,” Spitfire decided. “Come on, lets gets some hustle in our trot.”

Soarin’ and Rapid saluted Spitfire before they fell in line behind her. Rainbow took her place at Spitfire’s left side. Spitfire leaned over to steal a brief nuzzle, which Rainbow returned in kind.

The four made good time from the hotel to the Stonewall Bar & Grille where the Bad Seeds were booked to play. The Stonewall itself was separated into two distinct sections. Facing the street was the main entrance, which led to the restaurant style grille area. Sidewalk tables were set outside where various ponies could chat and drink while they waited for an available table inside. Slightly down the alley to the side of the building was a stairwell leading down to the bar and stage area. Ponies that weren’t looking for it easily missed it.

Spitfire led them down the narrow staircase and through a painted black door. After walking down a short hallway the four pegasi came into the bar proper. The room was large enough to pass for a dining hall with about three quarters of its space devoted to the stage and a dance floor.

The bar itself was placed very near the entrance they were standing in. It was in the shape of a hollowed out rectangle with stools all around it. There were already a few dozen ponies crowded around the bar, each lost in their own conversation as they waited for the band to start.

“Not too crowded yet,” Rainbow noted.

Spitfire nodded. “I see an empty table near the stage, you guys wanna sit there?”

“Hay yeah!” Rainbow said with a broad grin.

“Sure,” Soarin’ agreed.

“Works for me,” Rapid said with a shrug.

Rainbow could hardly contain her excitement as they made their way to the table. Her manic grin didn’t escape the notice of Spitfire. The Wonderbolt found the smile infectious. By the time all four had taken their seats, Rainbow was practically bouncing.

“Somepony’s excited,” Rapid noted with a chuckle.

“Sorry,” Rainbow said as she attempted to control herself.

“Ignore Rapid,” Spitfire said with a wave of her hoof. “He’s just grumpy that Soarin’s making him sleep on the couch.”

Soarin’ and Rapidfire exchanged a glance. An impish smirk grew on Rapid’s lips.

“What can I say, I miss cuddling my Mallow,” he said with a wink.

Rainbow’s hooves shot to cover her mouth as she burst out laughing. Spitfire didn’t bother trying to contain her own laughter. Soarin’ groaned and smacked his head against the surface of the table.

"Ich bin viel zu nüchtern für diese Unterhaltung," he mumbled, despondent.

After they recovered, Soarin’ excused himself from the table to order drinks. Ciders for Rainbow and spitfire, a brandy on the rocks for Rapid, and an old fashioned for himself. While he was away, Rainbow turned in her seat to watch the stage.

Spotlights overhead bathed the entire stage in a pale blue glow. Smoke emanated from machines hidden behind the speaker stacks. On the right side of the stage there was a keyboard set up on a swiveling stand that an orange-brown unicorn with a gray-green mane was carefully adjusting to the perfect height. Rainbow guessed, by his wrench cutie mark, that he was a stagehand employed by the Stonewall for events like this.

On both sides of the stage, Rainbow could see guitar racks. Each one held four guitars, presumably each tuned for a specific song or set. She also spotted an acoustic guitar tucked behind one of the racks. She wondered if the band had many acoustic songs, or if they would just be using the acoustic guitar for rhythm sections in certain songs.

Rainbow tried to resist bouncing like a foal as she impatiently waited for the show to start. As time went on more and more ponies began to fill up the empty tables and booths. She was about to turn back to talk with Spitfire when she spotted two unicorns making their way to the jukebox near their table.

The unicorn in the lead, a stallion with a burgundy colored coat and a mahogany colored mane, had a pair of bits in his telekinetic grasp. Slipping them into the jukebox, he tapped at the controls excitedly. His friend, a unicorn with a white coat and a ginger mane seemed generally bored with the whole experience.

The burgundy unicorn tapped his hoof impatiently on the floor.

“Dude I think it ate my change,” he whined.

“What a tragedy,” the white unicorn answered.

The burgundy unicorn waited another moment before he gave the machine a hard smack with his right hoof. The jukebox sprang to life with a western sounding guitar over a pounding kick drum. The burgundy unicorn grinned like a foal and bobbed his head in time with the music.

“Awww yeah!” he cheered.

“You’re such a foal,” his friend noted with a sigh.

“Loosen up dude, we’re here to have some fun!”

Rainbow stifled a giggle as she turned to face her companions. Both Spitfire and Rapidfire nodded their heads with the beat. Rainbow watched them for a moment before she cast a confused look to Soarin’. Soarin’ offered a simple shrug as he sipped his cocktail.

Spitfire wrapped her foreleg around Rainbow’s waist and swayed her with the music. Rainbow’s surprised squeak quickly turned to a giggle as she joined in the impromptu dance. Not to be outdone, Rapidfire attempted the same trick to Soarin’, much to the latter Wonderbolt’s irritation. The attempt ended with Soarin’ lightly thwacking Rapid on the nose.

It was nearly another twenty minutes before the main lights dimmed, signaling the band’s imminent arrival to the stage. Rainbow immediately shot to her hooves, her wings fluttering in excitement. Spitfire hopped up next to her, her good wing draping over Rainbow’s back. Rainbow flashed Spitfire an excited grin as the band took to the stage.

The drummer, a griffon bathed in shadow, took his seat first. He took a moment to adjust himself before he took his sticks and waited. From somewhere offstage, the first chord rang out, a distorted guitar that was quickly joined by a second. The drummer tapped a rhythm on the high-hat as the guitars merged into a unified rhythm with just enough syncopation to differentiate them.

Two griffons made their way on stage, each from opposite sides. They walked on two legs, using their wings to balance themselves as they moved. As the drums and guitars built to the heart of the song the lights came up. The assembled ponies cheered when the band was finally visible.

The two guitarists had grey-brown coats with white plumage on their heads. The smaller of the two wielded a polished red guitar with an ebony neck. The taller had a cream colored guitar with a neck the color of maple wood. Both were grinning from ear to ear at the raucous cheering from the crowd. They took turns between rhythm and lead, the larger griffon seemingly in control of the song for a few moments before he passed it to the smaller one.

As the song ended, Rainbow threw her hooves in the air and cheered at the top of her lungs. The griffons didn’t wait for long, the drummer counting them into the next song without any delay. Again, the griffons played an identical rhythm, the taller griffon stepping up to the microphone at the front of the stage. He sang with a powerful tenor that carried through the hall and over the screaming ponies.

“I can't get rid of you
I don't know what to do
I don't even know who is growing on who
'Cos everywhere I go you're there
Can't get you out of my hair
Can't pretend that I don't care - it's not fair”

Perhaps it was the rush of sugar from the cider; perhaps it was the infectious energy of the crowed that was running through her, Rainbow didn’t know. Nor did she particularly care as she grabbed Spitfire’s hoof and dragged her into the crowded dance floor.

“Woah! Easy there girl!” Spitfire laughed.

“Come on Spitfire!” Rainbow shouted over the music, “What’s the point of rocking out if you’re not gonna dance?”

Spitfire didn’t argue with her marefriend, instead she turned to Rapid and Soarin’. “You too, boys!”

“Nah, we’re good!” Rapid shouted.

“Get your flanks on the dance floor now, soldiers!” Spitfire ordered, her face a wide smile.

Soarin’ raised his hooves in surrender before he got his hooves.

“Have fun!” Rapid teased in singsong.

“Oh no,” Soarin’ said with a wicked smile as he wrapped a foreleg around Rapidfire. “If I gotta suffer then I’m making you suffer with me.”

Rapid’s protests fell on deaf ears as he was unceremoniously dragged to the dance floor. Spitfire pointed her hoof at him and shared a laugh with Rainbow. The act spurred Rapid to take an action he knew he’d probably regret later. Without much ceremony he cut between Spitfire and took Rainbow by the hoof.

“I think I’ll have this dance,” he said, winking to his sister.

Spitfire grew a smile that sent a chill down Rapid’s spine. “Rainbow, do you mind foalsitting him for a song?”

“You got it, boss!” Rainbow answered with a grin.

“I’m so dead,” Rapid mused.

Spitfire moved to Soarin’ with a friendly smile, “What do you say Soarin’? A dance, for old time’s sake?”

Soarin’ smiled and bowed. “It would be my honor, Captain.”

“Ever the gentlecolt,” Spitfire said.

Rapidfire watched Spitfire and Soarin’ from the corner of his eye as he tried to keep up with Rainbow. More than once he caught them looking at him with nothing but bad intentions, perhaps more concerning to him was whatever Spitfire kept whispering in Soarin’s ear.

As the song came to a close, the band didn’t give their audience time to rest or cheer. Instead they began their third song in earnest. To Rapidfire’s horror, Spitfire’s plan was revealed as she and Soarin’ cut between him and Rainbow. Spitfire dancing with her marefriend, and Soarin’ dancing with Rapidfire, Rapid was about to laugh it off when the singer began.

“Love,
Love is not the answer
Love
Love is not your friend
Love
Love is not the beginning
And love
Love is not the end

And love isn't just
Liking someone a lot
I don't know what love is
But I know what love is not

For the feint hearted
You turn your back and it is gone
For the feint hearted
It can melt a heart of stone
And nobody can make it on their own”

Soarin’ did his very best not to react to the unfortunate lyrical timing.

“What’s she paying you to do this?” Rapid asked after it became clear Soarin’ wouldn’t let him escape the dance.

“Enough,” Soarin’ answered.

“I hate you right now,” Rapid glowered.

“That’s nice, dear,” Soarin’ answered.

A few feet away, Rainbow could scarcely stop herself from giggling.

“What did you bribe him with?” she asked.

“A bottle of his favorite scotch and the satisfaction of watching Rapid squirm,” Spitfire answered.

“You really are evil,” Rainbow laughed.

Spitfire shrugged and kissed Rainbow between the eyes. “Morally flexible.”

When the song ended and the last note had faded, the band took a few minutes to let the crowd cheer and catch their breath. The singer stepped closer to the microphone, his light panting audible through the speakers.

“How you doing out there Manehattan?” he asked.

His answer was an approving roar of the crown.

“Niiiice,” he drawled. “Well, I’m Niko Grivridge, and we are the Bad Seeds.”

The crowd cut him off with another wave of cheers and stomped hooves. Rainbow noticed the keyboard player slip out from backstage to take her place at her instrument. Rainbow grinned like a filly as she got a good look at the keyboardist. The mare in question was a pegasus with a periwinkle blue coat and a hay colored mane. Niko cast a glance to make sure she was ready before he continued speaking.

“For this next set, please allow me to introduce my little brother, Kale!”

Kale bowed to the energized ponies as he took center stage. “So, I hear ponies like to party. You all wouldn’t know about that would you?”

The cheer of the crowd made Kale recoil melodramatically; the mare at the keyboard hid her laughter behind a hoof.

“Alright then,” Kale began, adjusting his guitar. “Lets get this show on the road!”

From behind Kale, the drummer counted them in, his words lost over the cheers of the ponies on the dance floor. Kale stomped on a distortion pedal and played a lively riff that quickly built to a loud resolve. The full band joined in, as Kale moved to the microphone.

“You, you got a nasty reputation
We're in a sticky situation
It's down to me and you.”

Rainbow lost herself to the music. Her body moving in time with Spitfire’s in a primordial dance. It was unlike anything Rainbow had ever experienced in her life.

“Raise your hooves!
When you want to let it go
Raise your hooves!
When you want to let a feeling show
Raise your hooves!
From New Yoke to Coltago
Raise your hands From Manehattan to Trotkyo
Whoa, whoa
Raise your hooves!”

The intensity of the crowd seemed exponentially linked to the intensity of the song. The more the music built, the more feverishly the ponies danced. Even Soarin’ and Rapid lost themselves to the rhythm of the dance floor. By the time the song did end, everypony on the dance floor was out of breath and sweaty.

The crowd shifted automatically, the tired ponies making their way back to their seats for a break as fresh ponies took their places. The band continued in earnest, the mare at the keyboard leading the next song in with a staccato rhythm. Rainbow, Spitfire, Soarin’, and Rapidfire yielded their space on the dance floor to rest and catch their breath.

“Well,” Spitfire began as she caught her breath, “that was fun.”

“Hay yeah it was!” Rainbow beamed.

“They play pretty good,” Soarin’ said.

“I’m gonna grab us some more drinks,” Rapid said after catching his breath. “Cider all around?”

Receiving no complaints, he began the tedious process of worming his way through the crowd to get to the bar. Spitfire followed him with her eyes for a moment before she looked to Soarin’.

“Better go help him out with that, just in case,” she said.

Soarin’ nodded, quickly vacating his seat and following Rapid. After they left, Rainbow leaned against Spitfire, using the older mare as a living pillow. Spitfire obliged happily enough, her foreleg wrapping around Rainbow’s shoulders.

“Having fun?” Rainbow asked,

“Ohyeah,” Spitfire answered. “Are you?”

Rainbow nodded. “More than I’ve had in a really long time.”

Spitfire allowed herself a proud smile. For a few minutes, the two simply listened to the band play. Despite how crowded the hall had become, it felt like they were in their own little world. After a few more minutes alone, Soarin’ and Rapidfire returned, each carrying two mugs of cider. They carefully set each of the mugs on the table before they reclaimed their own seats.

“Thanks, guys,” Spitfire said as she reached for a mug.

“No biggie,” Rapid answered, reclining.

For nearly an hour, the four pegasi remained at their table, content to let the music take their minds to other places. It wasn’t until the band began to downshift for a slower set that Rainbow sat back up.

Kale had retrieved a stool from a stagehand and had set himself up next to the mare at the keyboard. He had also changed to an acoustic guitar that he strummed once to confirm it was in tune. Niko, the drummer, and the bass player had all temporarily abandoned the stage for whatever what about to happen next.

After adjusting the microphone to the right height, Kale began to speak.

“So before we slow this down a little bit, would you please all give a big Manehattan greeting to the last member of the Bad Seeds, and my wife, Skysong.” He motioned to the periwinkle mare behind the keyboard.

Amid the applause and cheers, Rainbow was reasonably sure she heard the distinctive sound of multiple jaws hitting the floor, hers included. Neither Kale nor Skysong seemed at all surprised by the mixed reaction as they continued. Kale began picking a soft rhythm, Sky joined him, her keyboard set to an organ sound that wove seamlessly into the griffon’s rhythm.

Spitfire got to her hooves and held out her hoof to Rainbow. “May I have this dance?”

A gentle smile grew on Rainbow’s lips as she took Spitfire’s hoof and followed her onto the dance floor. While it wasn’t as full as it had been at the start of the show, the floor was still very crowded with ponies dancing slowly with their dates and spouses. Spitfire and Rainbow kept close as they danced, their bodies swaying in time with the music.

They barely noticed when the rest of the band quietly filled into the song, their attentions focused on each other. Spitfire kept her eyes locked with Rainbow’s. They didn’t speak—there was no need for words.

"When we walk into a crowded room it's like we're all alone
Everybody tries to kidnap your attention
You just smile and steal the show

You come to me and take my hand
We start dancin' slow
You put your lips up to my ear and whisper way down low

From the first time I saw you it felt like coming home
If I never told you I just want you to know
You had me from hello."

When the song came to its inevitable end, Spitfire pulled Rainbow into a tender embrace. Rainbow returned the gesture with a soft nuzzle. They remained still for a moment before separating. Onstage, the periwinkle mare, Skysong, had abandoned her keyboard and took a moment to kiss her husband’s feathered cheek before she took to the microphone.

“So how’d everypony like that?” Sky asked.

The ponies on the dance floor cheered and stomped their hooves in approval. Behind Sky, Kale and Niko discreetly changed guitars. She cast a quick glance over her shoulder to make sure they were ready before she continued.

“What do you say, Manehattan,” she began with an excited grin. “Should we turn it up to eleven and go out with a bang?”

The howl of approval from the crowd was nearly deafening in and of itself. Sky’s grin only grew wider before she hopped onto her rear hooves, her front hooves grasping the microphone stand for support. She turned to face the band and shouted loud enough for her voice to be heard to the ponies in the front.

“Lets bring the house down boys! One, two, three, four!”

The drummer led them in, the guitars tuned a half step down from the previous song. Sky’s head bobbed in time with the song, her eyes closed as she gave herself to the music. As the intro faded, she leaned to the microphone.

Your gentle voice I hear
Your words echo inside me
You said "You long for me," that "you love me"
And I want to see you too, feels just like I'm falling
Is there nothing I can do, wonder if you hear my calling

I'm here and waiting for you
Where are you, I can't find you
I'm here and waiting for you
I'll wait forever for you

Mom's gone to Heaven now
Why won't she come back down?
Does she have someone she loves more than me
I thought I could love you better, we were always together
If we took some time apart you would finally know my heart

I'm here and waiting for you
Where are you, I can't find you
I'm here and waiting for you
I'll wait forever for you

I fell in Love with you and now you're gone
There's nothing left within my lonely room without you

I'm here and waiting for you
Where are you, I can't find you
I'm here and waiting for you
I'll wait forever for you

Author's Note

Cameo Ponies:
Quick Fix
Abstract Theory
Sojourner

Bad Seeds (Part II)

“My ears are still ringing,” Rapidfire said loudly.

“That’s how you know it was a good show!” Rainbow said with a wide grin.

“You’re a madmare, you know that right?” Rapid asked, shooting Rainbow a flat look.

“If the music is too loud, then you’re too old,” Rainbow answered with a sagely nod.

“I’m not old,” Rapid pouted, folding his forelegs against his chest and pursing his lips.

Soarin’ and Rainbow shared a laugh at Rapidfire’s amusing pout. Spitfire had excused herself from the table nearly ten minutes earlier;where to exactly, she hadn’t said. Still, Dash didn’t feel any particular compulsion to worry just yet. Appearantly, neither did Soarin’ or Rapidfire, given that they were engaging in idle banter and watching the other ponies in the bar with mild disinterest.

“So, Dash,” Soarin’ began, “I take it you liked the show?”

“Hay yeah! Didn’t you?”

“Yeah, it was pretty good,” he answered.

“Woulda been better if Mallow hadn’t been trying to cop a feel every time we danced,” Rapid chided with a playful wink.

Soarin’s rolled his eyes. “Ignoring you now.”

“Killjoy,” Rapid grumbled.

“Anyway, Rainbow,” Soarin’ continued, folding his forelegs on the table in front of him. “There’s a couple things I’m curious about...” His words trailed off, leaving Rainbow a way out if she really wanted it.

“Yeah?” Rainbow felt a nervous sweat start to form on her brow.

“You’re one of the most impressive flyers I’ve seen in a long time. Your speed and acceleration are amazing; not to mention you’re the only pony in the world that can pull off a Sonic Rainboom. Don’t know about your endurance flying—”

“I’d be the one to judge that,” Rapid interjected.

“As I was saying,” Soarin’ continued, giving Rapidfire a solid smack across the back of the head. “I’m curious, Rainbow, what makes you want to be a Wonderbolt?”

Rainbow balked for a moment. “You’re kidding, right?”

“Not even a little,” Soarin’ answered. “Everypony should be able to articulate why they do, or do not, want something.”

“Why wouldn’t a pegasus want to be a Wonderbolt?” Rainbow asked.

“Antipathy towards the military nature of the organization, no interest in repetitive formation flying, stage fright, or hay, maybe they just don’t like the uniform,” Rapidfire answered, his tone making it obvious that he was annoyed at being left out of the conversation.

“You can already do a Rainboom,” Soarin’ continued. “I’ve seen you do it twice now. Once at the Best Young Fliers Competition—where you saved mine, Spitfire’s and Misty’s flanks,need I remind you—and again at the Royal Wedding. That’s something no other pegasus is able to do, though certainly not for a lack of trying. From what I hear you’re also one of the best weather managers around. So I find myself curious, why would a mare with your extraordinary ability want to limit yourself to being just another Wonderbolt?”

Rainbow folded her forelegs across her chest as she considered the question. For as long as she could remember it had been her dream. No pony had ever asked her to justify it before. “I...” Rainbow began, her voice quiet, “I guess I’ve always lived for competition, you know? I always had to be the best at whatever I did. I need that challenge, that competition. And being a Wonderbolt means you’re considered good enough to fly with the best.

“I can’t just sit still and let the world pass me by. I need somepony who can keep me on my hooves and force me to get better with every race. I need that pony who can make me work for my victories. And hopefully I can push them to get better too.”

Soarin’ gave Rainbow a warm smile. “That’s a good attitude to have, Rainbow.”

“R-really? Thanks!” Rainbow said with a grin.

Soarin’ nodded his head. “I look forward to flying with you someday, Dash.”

Rainbow’s cheeks flushed pink from the compliment. She gave Soarin’ a sheepish smile as she rubbed the back of her head. Before the conversation could continue, Spitfire returned, a noticeable bounce in her trot.

“Hey guys, what’d I miss?” Spitfire asked.

“Nothing really,” Soarin’ answered. “Rapid and I were just about to head out. It’s getting late.”

“Your marefriend called me old,” Rapid said, feigning a pout.

“I said if the music’s too loud, you’re too old,” Rainbow quickly added.

Spitfire pulled Rainbow into a sidelong hug. “This here is a smart mare, Rapid. She’s got a point.”

Soarin’ chuckled and mussed Rapid’s mane. “Come on, Gramps, let’s get you back to the old folk’s home. I hear they have pudding cups for snack time.”

Rapid glared daggers at Soarin’. “I hate pudding.”

“Well, that’s your problem,” Soarin’ said with a nod.

“You’re older than I am.”

“I swear to Celestia, you two should just rut and get it over with,” Spitfire interrupted with a snicker.

Both stallions glared at Spitfire, who simply offered them her most innocuous smile in return.

“You are sick in the head, Spits,” Rapid said after a moment of silence.

“It’s a dirty job, but somepony’s gotta do it,” Spitfire retorted with a nod.

“Anyway,” Soarin’ said, desperate to derail the conversation, “I’ll see you tomorrow morning, Spits. Don’t forget your appointment with Triage.”

Spitfire gave Soarin’ a crisp salute. “Sir, yes sir.”

Soarin’ blinked several times. “Never do that to me again. It’s... creepy having you call me that.”

Spitfire laughed out loud. “I’ll see you in the morning, boys.”

Both Soarin’ and Rapidfire saluted her before they trotted away. Rainbow waited for a moment before she turned to Spitfire.

“Who’s Triage? Is everything okay?”

“Hm? Oh, yeah. Triage is the Chief Medical Officerfor the Wonderbolts. He’s just gonna take a look at my wing. Nothing to worry about.” Spitfire answered, a warm smile on her lips.

Rainbow nodded slowly. “Okay. So, what do we do now?”

Spitfire’s smile widened to a broad grin. “Well, Dash, how would you like to meet the band?”

Rainbow sputtered, her eyes growing to the size of small plates “W-would I!” she exclaimed.

“C’mon,” Spitfire said, motioning for Rainbow to follow her.

Both mares trotted to a door near the side of the stage where a very intimidating earth pony was standing. Recognizing Spitfire, he gave a curt nod before stepping aside to let them pass. Rainbow kept close to Spitfire as they passed him.

“How did you manage to set this up?” Rainbow asked after a moment.

“Being a Wonderbolt has a few perks,” Spitfire said. “I found the manager of the club and had him ask their manager if I could speak to them for a minute. He let me in and I asked if we could meet them and hang out for a bit. They agreed in exchange for a few backstage passes for our next season. I guess that pegasus mare, Skysong, is a big fan.”

“That is so awesome!” Rainbow squealed.

Spitfire grinned and slipped her good wing over Rainbow’s back. After winding their way through the dimly lit hallway for a few moments, the two came to an open room lined with posters of hundreds of bands. The posters completely covered the walls and ceiling forming unique, and nearly overwhelming, wallpaper. In the corner nearest the door that Spitfire and Rainbow were standing in was a refrigerator and a fake hibiscus tree.

In the opposite corner, Rainbow spotted two griffons and the pegasus mare. The griffon she assumed was Kale had the acoustic guitar in his lap and was playing a blues groove by himself. Sky was leaning against his side, her eyes closed as she bobbed her head in time with the music. The other griffon, Niko, was sitting not too far away from them sipping a hot cup of tea. It was Niko who spotted Spitfire and Rainbow first.

“Ah, there you are!” he said as he set his teacup down. “Come in, come in! Make yourselves comfortable. Sorry it’s only just the three of us for now, Kick Bass went to get some food.”

“It’s cool. Thanks very much for letting us meet you guys,” Spitfire said, leading Rainbow in. “It’s very exciting.”

“The feeling’s mutual!” Sky chirped as she sat up, a fanfilly grin on her face.

“Easy there, Sky,” Kale chuckled, setting his guitar down.

“Quiet you,” Sky said, lightly bopping Kale’s beak.

“Don’t mind my little brother,” Niko said, “he’s thoroughly whipped. It’d be cute if it wasn’t kinda pathetic.”

Rainbow giggled. “So you’re really married? It not just, like, some show act?”

Sky nodded. “We’ll have been married for twelve years in a few weeks.”

“Congratulations!” Spitfire exclaimed.

“Gaaaaaaag,” Niko moaned loudly.

“Juuuuuust jealous,” Kale replied with a chuckle. “Anyway, I’m Kale Grivridge. Pleased to meet the both of you.”

“And I’m Sky Grivridge, it’s so cool to meet you Captain Spitfire,” Sky said.

“Likewise, Sky,” Spitfire said before motioning to Rainbow. “This is my marefriend, Rainbow Dash.”

Rainbow’s heart skipped a beat from being introduced as Spitfire’s marefriend. It wasn’t that she didn’t like the term; quite the opposite, in fact. It was more that until now, it had only been used in the private company of just herself and Spitfire. To Rainbow’s surprise Kale, Sky, and Niko didn’t even bat an eyelash from the term. Instead Sky looked even more excited about something.

“Oh, oh, I’ve heard about you!” Sky said.

“Wh-really?” Rainbow balked, her face reflecting her surprise from the notion.

“Hay yeah, you’re the mare who did the Sonic Rainboom! My family was at the Best Young Flyers competition when it happened. That is so awesome!”

Rainbow felt her cheeks burn again, having been reminded about that same incident twice in less than an hour. She felt Spitfire’s wing give her a light hug.

“Say,” Spitfire began as she waved a hoof between Kale and Sky. “How did you two get together anyway? It’s not exactly common for ponies and griffons to hook up.”

“That was my fault, actually,” Niko said with a laugh. “Kale and I were in our first band and doing a tour of the eastern Equestrian seaboard.”

“Well, that had been the plan at least,” Kale added.

“Yeah,” Niko nodded, “see, our keyboardist at the time was expecting his first kid. And the kid came right before we were supposed to go on the tour. He wanted to be there, and I was kind of a donkey about it and told him that his kid could wait a couple months while we did our tour.”

“Mom tried to teach him tact,” Kale added, jerking a thumb in his brother’s direction. “It never took.”

The mares in the room shared a chuckle while Niko made a lewd gesture in Kale’s direction.

“As I was saying,” Niko continued after a moment, “I acted like a donkey and he—with good reason, I might add—told me off and quit. So there we were, down a member and on our way to Baltimare. I talked to our agent and asked him to look around for a local musician we could use to fill in temporarily until we found a replacement back home.”

“That’s when I crashed the party,” Sky interjected.

“Made quite the impression on me, after a while,” Kale said with a laugh, wrapping his arm around his wife.

“Well, long story short, at the end of the tour I told her to take her money and bugger off,” Niko explained. “Kale told me that he wanted her to stay on full time as our regular pianist. We had a big fight as the band kinda exploded in spectacular fashion.”

“Kale and I started touring small clubs as a duet for a while, playing acoustic sets only,” Sky said.

“Those were pretty good times,” Kale nodded in agreement.

“So, uh, how’d you two become an item?” Spitfire asked.

“It just kinda happened, really,” Sky said with a shrug. “We got really close in the time we were together, and he made me happy. Took him a long time to work up the nerve to ask me out officially, though.”

Kale blushed a little as he laughed, pulling Sky into a tender nuzzle. “In fairness, I was scared of her for a while.”

“What for?” Rainbow asked.

The question earned a loud laugh from Niko.

“That was my fault again,” Niko admitted. “I was mad at her for something stupid during the early part of our tour. So one night when we were all eating dinner, I told her that I wouldn’t keep anyone in my band who refused to eat meat.”

“Which is when I swiped a piece of steak from his plate and ate it right in front of him,” Sky said. “I wish I had a picture of the looks on their faces.”

“What exactly is steak?” Spitfire asked.

“It’s the cooked muscle of cows,” Rainbow answered, a pallor having spread over her face.

Sky’s right eyebrow arched up curiously. “Now, how does a pony like you know something like that? Hang out with many griffons?”

Rainbow nodded. “When I was a filly I was best-friends with a griffon. She, uh, she dared me to try meat once.”

Sky slipped free of her husband’s grasp and flew over to Rainbow. Sky sat in front of the younger mare, her turquoise eyes full of understanding.

“Did you try it?” Sky asked, her voice soft and motherly.

Rainbow nodded.

“Swallow it?”

Rainbow nodded again, her hoof digging at the floor uncomfortably. Sky pulled her into a gentle hug. Spitfire’s wing slipped free of Rainbow’s back to allow the action.

“Were you able to keep it down?” Sky asked.

“Yeah,” Rainbow answered quietly.

“You did better than me then. Later that night Kale found me puking my guts out and sobbing.”

“Not most flattering look, hon,” Kale said, smirking in amusement.

“Do you know what meat it was?” Sky asked.

“Chicken, I think,” Rainbow answered after thinking for a minute.

Sky nodded. “Well if it makes you feel better, chicken’s much easier to eat than cow is.”

“You mean you’ve eaten it more than once?” Rainbow asked.

“Well, I did marry a griffon,” Sky motioned to Kale. “I kinda got used to one or two things that ponies normally don’t do.”

“But chicken,” Rainbow shook her head, “how can you eat it?”

Sky hummed and pursed her lips as she considered the question. Eventually she simply shrugged. “What can I say, I like cock.”

Kale and Spitfire burst into gales of laughter while Niko buried his face in his palms.

“Too much information, Sky!” Niko moaned.

“…Maybe that’s why I didn’t like it,” Rainbow mumbled.

The off-hoof comment sent Spitfire, who was only just recovering, into another burst of uncontrolled laughter. Sky held out her hoof, which Rainbow was all too happy to bump.

“Say, how would you two like to hear a song?” Sky asked.

“Really, Sky, you wanna do this now?” Niko asked.

“What better time?” Sky replied. “We’ve been talking about an acoustic set for a while, might as well do some market research.”

“We’d love to hear you guys play some more!” Rainbow said, her face split into a wide grin.

“Hey yeah.” Spitfire agreed, panting and wiping tears of mirth from her eyes.

Kale picked his guitar up and followed Spitfire’s example, wiping the tears from his eyes. “What song are we playing, Sky?”

“Hmm,” Sky thought for a moment, turning to look at Rainbow and Spitfire, “how about ‘Wind on the Water’?”

“Works for me,” Kale said as he quickly checked his tuning.

Sky returned to her seat, half snuggling up to Kale. Niko disappeared into a backroom for a moment before he returned with his own acoustic guitar.

“Mind if I help out?” he asked.

“Wouldn’t have it any other way,” Sky said with a smile.

Kale began to play a soft melody with his talons. Niko soon joined him with an understated rhythm. Sky closed her eyes and ran a hoof through her mane as she got into the music. Spitfire turned to Rainbow, a smile pulling at the corners of her mouth as she held out her hoof. “May I have this dance?” she asked, her voice warm and gentle.

Rainbow smiled back and nodded, putting her hoof in Spitfire’s. Together they held each other close as Sky began to sing.

“The wind on the water doesn’t go very far,
Just ‘round this old world forever.
And the way that I love you, it can’t last long,
Just until this life, this crazy life is over.

“I see myself in different ways today.
I’m on the outside, I’m just looking in,
Finding myself wanting nothing but to be with you again.”

Rainbow nuzzled against Spitfire’s neck, her eyes closed as their bodies swayed in time with the song.

“Rainbows come from the tears of the sun,
And I’ve heard it said by some: rainbows chase the rain, And the wind on the water can make your dreams wander;
Pictures in the sky come and take your mind away.

“This is just a short song to say: I hope to see you home again to stay—one day…”

Some Turbulence Detected

There was something Spitfire found more than a little creepy about being the only pony in a locker room. The cold air, dim lighting, and heavy walls inherent to earth pony design certainly had something to do with it. Then again, the lingering potpourri of mildew and sweat didn’t help much either.

Spitfire gave the nearest locker a half-hearted kick. She was reasonably sure that Arcus’ note to wait in the locker room was his subtle way of telling Spitfire that he was mad about something. Exactly what had put his feathers in a twist Spitfire wasn’t exactly sure, though she could probably hazard a guess.

According to Soarin’, Arcus was now aware that Spitfire had been spending time with Rainbow Dash. In some ways that information simplified Spitfire’s life. She no longer had to worry about coming clean to Arcus about that particular piece of knowledge. On the other hoof, if Arcus thought she was dating Rainbow, the situation would become… problematic.

Unfortunately for Spitfire, Arcus seemed to enjoy assuming the worst in everything. Spitfire scoffed; Arcus probably assumed she was already sleeping with Rainbow. And while Spitfire wouldn’t deny that she found the idea appealing, she had no plans of inviting Rainbow into her bed anytime soon. After all, sex rarely simplified things.

Spitfire shook her head free of those thoughts as the door creaked open. Arcus trotted into the room with several folders of paperwork tucked under his left wing. His face was expressionless, a trait Spitfire had long ago learned was a red flag. She hopped onto her hooves and snapped a crisp salute.

“Morning, Sir,” she said.

“Spitfire,” Arcus said, casually putting the folders on one of the benches.

“I was, uh, expecting to see Triage,” Spitfire said after a moment’s hesitation.

“Triage will see you in the main exam room after we’ve had a chance to talk,” Arcus said.

‘Great, trapped in a locker room with my pissed off boss,’ Spitfire noted to herself. ‘What could possibly go wrong?’

“Is there something the matter, sir?” Spitfire asked.

“That depends,” Acus began waving a hoof to the bench, “please, sit down.”

Spitfire did as she was requested, though it gave the most peculiar feeling that she was a filly again. A filly about to get scolded by her parents for doing something very, very, stupid. Spitfire wondered if it was too late to run for the hills.

“So,” Arcus began, “Soarin’ tells me you’ve been seeing Rainbow Dash.”

“Well, uh, yeah I guess that’s one way to put it. I mean I wouldn’t say its, seeing, seeing each other, more like ‘yeah I gotta look at you to hang out with you’ seeing,” Spitfire flubbed.

Arcus held up a hoof to silence her. “Spitfire, as your friend, what you do is none of my business, and I’m happy you’re… enjoying your time off. As your boss, however, I’m asking you to tell me the truth so I can try to help you.”

Spitfire did her best not to fidget, though she couldn’t bring herself to look Arcus in the eyes.

“Spitfire,” Arcus began, his voice taking a hard edge. “Are you dating Rainbow Dash?”

Spitfire’s tried to answer, her mouth moving as if to speak though she wasn’t able to form the words. She sucked a sharp breath through her lips and held it for a moment before slowly exhaling. She could feel Arcus’ eyes boring into her, though she didn’t dare meet his gaze.

“Captain Spitfire,” Arcus said harshly, emphasizing every word, “are you romantically involved with Rainbow Dash?”

Spitfire wilted under Arcus’ unyielding glare. He was one of a very small number of ponies that actually intimidated her. In the end, all she could do was nod her head, her ears folded back.

“You are a Wonderbolt and a Captain of the Royal Air Force,” Arcus reprimanded her. “Use your words!”

“Yes,” she managed to whisper.

“Speak up, Captain!” Arcus said, his hoof stomping hard against the cement floor.

“Sir, I am, sir!” Spitfire answered, her voice echoing off the cold walls.

Arcus allowed a few moments of silence to fill the air between them. His eyes focused on the top of Spitfire’s head while Spitfire very intently studied the accumulated grime on the tile grout.

“How long has this relationship been romantic?” Arcus asked, his tone softening somewhat.

“About a month, sir,” Spitfire answered, feeling defeated.

“Well, that should simplify things,” Arcus noted aloud.

A look of confusion spread of Spitfire’s face. “Simplify, sir?”

“You are going to break things off with Rainbow Dash as soon as possible,” Arcus said. “It’s what’s best for the both of you.”

“Break off?” Spitfire balked.

“Did I stutter, Captain?” Arcus asked, shooting Spitfire a glare. “You will break it off, end this dalliance immediately and cease contact until you have regained your perspective.”

“My perspective is fine,” Spitfire argued, her hackles rising from the order.

“Really?” Arcus asked, sarcasm lacing his tone. “Then please tell me, Spitfire, exactly how do you see this “relationship” turning out?”

Spitfire faltered, “I… I don’t know…”

“Exactly, you don’t. But I do, Spitfire. I know exactly how this will play out. Let’s say, just for the sake of argument, that you and Ms. Dash hit it off and have a good thing. That would be quite nice, wouldn’t it?”

Spitfire nodded a little, not sure where Arcus was going with his speech.

“Now then, lets also pretend, that you two even manage to conceal this relationship from the press, the other Wonderbolts, and even Princess Celestia. Then the day arrives that Rainbow Dash applies for a position in the Wonderbolts.

“You would of course recuse yourself from judgment, perhaps making up some cute excuse that you’re taking a sick day or going on vacation. We all know that Rainbow Dash would likely pass all of our tests with ease, so what happens when she’s a Wonderbolt cadet?” Arcus asked.

“W-what do you mean?” Spitfire asked.

“Say that Rainbow Dash is now a Wonderbolt Cadet, what happens with you two then?” Arcus asked again. “Do you come out with the relationship at that point?”

“Uh… y-yeah, I-I guess,” Spitfire answered.

Arcus sighed and shook his head in disappointment. “And just how do you think that will look, hm? Not even to the press, but to the rest of the Wonderbolts. Celestia knows Rapidfire had a hay of a time after he joined.”

“I never gave Rapid any special treatment!” Spitfire argued. “The fact he’s my brother is why I was harder on him than anypony else!”

“I know,” Arcus said, “but he is still your brother, which makes it impossible for others not to think you would lack impartiality with him. And to be fair, you should be biased towards him. Family is the most important thing in the world. Rainbow Dash would be a far worse problem.”

“How do you figure that?” Spitfire snapped, immediately regretting her tone.

“Spitfire, sometimes you amaze me with your naiveté,” Arcus commented with a sigh, rubbing his forehead with a hoof.

“It’s a gift,” Spitfire mumbled.

“The problem, Spitfire, will be that Rainbow will be perceived as having slept her way into the Wonderbolts.”

Spitfire’s temper sparked to life from Arcus’ comment. Her good wing flared out while her bad wing extended as far as she could make it move, which was only half way out. “I would never do something like that, nor would Rainbow!” she spat.

“Of course you wouldn’t,” Arcus said, “I know that, you know that, Soarin and Rapid know it. But the press doesn’t, and they don’t care, either. They only care about headlines that sell more issues. And what about the support staff, the backup squads, the trainees? What are they supposed to think when they find out that the Captain’s marefriend became a Wonderbolt?”

“That would have nothing to do with it!” Spitfire argued. “Anypony who’s seen her fly would know she’s got the skills!”

“Unfortunately, Spitfire, they won’t. They’ll see only what they want to see, which in this case will be Captain Spitfire and the floozy who got in on her back.”

“Don’t. Call. Her. That,” Spitfire hissed, her anger almost tangible in the air of the locker room.

Arcus kept a stoic look on his face. “What will you do when it’s a media pony and not me? What will you do if it’s Fleetfoot or Blaze? You gonna hit them, like you want to hit me right now? What would you do if I was Red Top?”

“I…” Spitfire’s posture deflated, she had no answer for Arcus.

“And now you’re starting to get it,” Arcus said, his tone losing the cruel edge he had carried mere moments earlier. “As long as you are a Wonderbolt and she aspires to be one, then you cannot be with this mare. I’m sorry, but that’s just the way it has to be.”

Spitfire sank, her ears folding back. Arcus sat beside her and wrapped his foreleg around her in a reassuring embrace.

“I know its not much comfort, but better this be done now, before you get any deeper in this mess. Besides, things will be better this way for the both of you. Your career is safe, her future will be safe, everypony will be happy.”

“I… I understand,” Spitfire said, her voice quiet.

“Good,” Arcus nodded, standing back up and gathering his things and leaving one manila folder next to Spitfire. “Now then, that folder contains your booking information. You current hotel suite is ours for the next few weeks and I’ve left a stipend for you during the vacation. Should be plenty for you to have some fun and relax. You’ve earned the vacation anyway.”

“Thanks,” Spitfire replied.

“All the team members who have Manehattan apartments will still be in here until we gather for the preseason schedule meeting. I’ll be heading back to Cloudsdale along with the support staff, so if you need anything go to Rapid, Soarin’, Misty, or Fleetfoot. They’ve got your back if you need them.” Arcus said.

“I understand,” Spitfire acknowledged.

“Good,” Arcus said with a nod, “Triage will see you in exam room two. After that you’re free to enjoy your vacation. Just make sure you end things with Rainbow Dash immediately, for everypony’s sake.”

Spitfire answered with a salute, which Arcus returned before trotting out the door. Spitfire waited over a minute before a snarl overtook her face and she punched the nearest locker with all her might. The hard strike of her hoof against the unyielding metal echoed off the walls.

“Stupid,” Spitfire hissed. “Stupid, stupid, stupid.”

Spitfire sat down and closed her eyes. She forced herself to take deep, calming breaths for several minutes. Once she was confidant that she wouldn’t kill the first pony she saw, she tucked the manila folder under her good wing and made her way out of the locker room.

Spitfire’s walk to the exam room was—thankfully—quiet. With Arcus and the support staff having cleared out for their vacations and the active team members already gone, the stadium was almost devoid of life. Spitfire mulled over Arcus’ words as she walked, her anger still simmering the whole way.

To a degree, Arcus was right. Perhaps that was why Spitfire found it so aggravating. Rapidfire had spent months after he joined the Wonderbolts fighting off the claims that he had done so on his sister’s good graces. Even to this day, whenever Rapid was in hot water the popular joke was that his sister would save his tail.

Spitfire couldn’t exactly deny that claim either. Sure she expected nothing short of excellence from Rapidfire’s performance. In fact, Spitfire made a point to push Rapid harder than any other Wonderbolt, a practice that had caused a lot of friction between them at one time. Still, Spitfire did also allow Rapidfire to get away with a lot.

Rapidfire was the only Wonderbolt who had the gall to sass Spitfire in front of the others, and he was generally the only one Spitfire put up with it from. It wasn’t that she didn’t want the other Wonderbolt’s to be friendly with her, just that she and Rapid grew up together; they had a certain chemistry that they were used to. It just so happened that most of that chemistry involved a lot of playful teasing.

The situation with Rainbow Dash had every likelihood of being even more complicated. Spitfire liked Rainbow; that much was undeniable. She liked Rainbow quite a lot actually. They were two of a kind in many ways. They both loved to fly, they loved the Wonderbolts as an organization, and Rainbow was one of the few ponies that Spitfire felt she could be herself around. She hadn’t considered how that would change if Rainbow became her subordinate.

Spitfire bit down on her lip in frustration. The more she thought about it, the more problems she could think of with her and Rainbow being an item. Still, she also hadn’t met a mare in a long time that she had enjoyed her time with quite so much. Zephyr had been the last, and while Spitfire had loved Zephyr, they had been very different ponies in many ways.

She sighed as she came to the exam rooms. She closed her eyes, her forehead pressing against the cool metal door. She took a deep breath and waited a moment before she pushed her way in. As promised, Triage was already there and waiting for her.

Triage was an average pegasus by most definitions. His coat was a sky blue color and his short-cropped mane was a gold color. His cutie mark was a red cross flanked by white wings. Triage was also, in Spitfire’s humble opinion, a stallion of questionable sanity. He was also one of the only ponies that Arcus seemed to legitimately like. Why that was the case, Spitfire had no idea.

“Ahh, Spitfire,” Triage greeted her with a lopsided smile, “welcome, welcome! I’ve been waiting for you.”

“Good to see you, Triage,” she responded with a smile of her own.

Triage motioned her to the exam table, which Spitfire obediently sat on. Triage skimmed through a stack of papers that Spitfire assumed was her medical file before he made his way to her side.

“So, I leave you alone for a couple of weeks and you go and tear up your wing, huh?” Triage asked.

“Well you know, Tree, I just get so bored without you around,” Spitfire answered.

Triage chuckled, his hooves gently holding her injured wing as he examined it. “Was it worth it?”

“Kinda. Sorta… Almost… Maybe.,” Spitfire said, her tone becoming more subduded with each statement as her conversation with Arcus continued to nad at her.

“Fair enough,” he said, “okay, stretch your wing as far as you can.”

Spitfire did as he asked, getting her wing to an almost full extension before she stopped. Her face tensed in discomfort, her wing aching from the light stretch.

“Hm, can’t go any further?” Triage asked.

“Not without a lot of pain,” Spitfire answered.

“Okay,” Triage said, “have you been doing any stretches since you tore it, or just keeping it still?”

“When it wasn’t bandaged I kept it folded,” Spitfire answered.

“All right,” Triage hummed thoughtfully for a moment, “okay, up on your hooves. We’re gonna start stretching this wing until you can at least get full extension again.”

“That sounds painful,” Spitfire noted.

“‘Pain’ is such a loaded word. I prefer ‘intense sensation’,” Triage replied with a smile.

Spitfire stared at Triage with the flattest expression she could manage. Triage held his hooves up in a conciliatory manner.

“Don’t worry, Spitfire, I’ll take good care of your wing. Besides it looks very bad on my report if I cripple more than three pegasi in a year.”

“Triage, has anypony ever told you that you’re insane?” Spitfire asked.

“Today, or this year?” he shot back.

Spitfire laughed and got to her hooves. “Okay, let’s do this.”

Friendly Advice

Soarin’ hummed a merry tune as he unlocked the door to his Manehattan flat, saddlebags filled to the brim with fresh groceries. It wasn’t enough to last him more than a few days, but it was enough for starters. Every unmarried Wonderbolt had to deal with the particular annoyance of restocking their fridges when they were on vacations, still, Soarin’ didn’t mind. A wide smile grew on his lips as he pushed open the door and trotted into his apartment.

“Home sweet home,” he said to the empty apartment.

Soarin’ preferred to avoid pulling his so-called celebrity card whenever possible, it tended to draw more attention that he liked when not in a uniform. His one notable exception had been to get the suite he called home. It was a two-bedroom corner suite on the top floor of his Oceanside apartment complex. From the comfort of his living room, Soarin’ could watch the sun rise over the ocean every morning. He even had a small patio that had just enough room for a pair of yard chairs and a small charcoal grill.

The interior walls were painted a warm cream color with burgundy red accent walls in the kitchen. The floors were actual wood as opposed to the cheap carpet or veneer found in most apartments. Along the walls, Soarin’ had hung many pictures. The living room had oil paintings varying in size from small to quite large, almost all of them had been works his grandmother had done when she was younger.

The hallway leading to the bedrooms and bathroom was lined with dozens of photographs. Most were of Soarin’ with his family, though a few were photographs of the team in their more private moments. His personal favorite was a photograph from Hearths Warming Eve, with the entire active roster wearing matching sweaters.

The sweaters had been Spitfire’s idea of a funny gift: probably because they were crimes against fashion, and possibly violated several international treaties against torture. Soarin’ still wasn’t sure how she had convinced Arcus to wear one and be photographed in it.

With a quick shake of his head, Soarin’ refocused his attention in the task at hoof. The groceries wouldn’t unpack themselves, no matter how nicely he asked them. He hopped onto his hind legs and struck a martial art pose at the half-dozen eggs sitting at the top of the pile.

“Bring it, poultry!” he challenged bravely, making a chopping motion with his right hoof.

The eggs seemed unimpressed.

Soarin’ gave the eggs his most intimidating stare for a moment before he plucked them from the bag and placed them in the fridge. He hummed as he put the rest of his groceries away; vacations always left him in a good mood. Finishing that task quickly enough he trotted over to his record collection and perused for an album to listen to. Before he could make his selection a sharp knock on the door stole his attention away.

Soarin’s right eyebrow arched up; he hadn’t been expecting anypony tonight. The Wonderbolts had all gone their separate ways for vacation. His family always wrote before visiting so he could ensure he was actually home when they showed up, and he was currently single without any real prospects.

Soarin’ waited a moment, wondering if whoever it was had simply knocked on the wrong door. Sure enough, after several moments of silence, the deliberate knocking returned. With a sigh, Soarin’ abandoned his record collection to deal with his unexpected, and undesired, visitor.

Pulling the door open, he was very surprised to see Spitfire standing in the hallway. The former captain had a look of stress on her face and a brown paper bag gripped in her teeth. Soarin’ stared at her dumbly for a moment before he spoke.

“Uh, heya boss, what’s up?” he said.

“I ‘ought your ooze” Spitfire said through the bag.

“You ought my ooze?” Soarin’ repeated her, an amused smirk on his face. “What the hay is that supposed to mean?”

Spitfire rolled her eyes and set the bag down. “I said; I brought your booze.”

Soarin’ quirked an eyebrow at her, his lips pursed. Spitfire pressed her hoof against her forehead and groaned.

“Last night, dancing with Rapid, remember?” Spitfire said.

The lightbulb in Soarin’s head clicked on as the specific information was dislodged from the metaphorical gears. Soarin’s cheeks flushed a slight shade of pink as he chuckled in spite of himself.

“Oh yeah!” he said with an embarrassed laugh, “kinda forgot about that.”

“Noticed,” Spitfire said, a friendly smile on her lips. “Can I come in?”

“Huh, uh—oh yeah! Sure.” Soarin’ acquiesced, motioning her inside with a hoof.

Spitfire took the bag in her teeth again before trotting inside. Soarin’ closed the door and followed her to the kitchen counter. Spitfire set the bag down carefully before turning to Soarin’ with a grin.

“It’s all yours, buddy,” she said, “you’ve earned it.”

Soarin’ tilted his head, unsure exactly what she meant. He watched as her golden hooves separated the bag from its contents, his breath hitching in his throat as he got a look at the bottle.

“J-Johnnie Trotter Blue Label,” he said reverently.

“Took me all afternoon to find a place that sold it,” Spitfire commented.

“Y-you really shouldn’t have got this, Spitfire,” Soarin’ managed to sputter, his eyes fixated on the bottle, “the Black Label was just fine.”

“It’s also your promotion gift,” Spitfire said.

Soarin’s ears folded back as he bit his lower lip. Johnnie Trotter was by far his favorite scotch, and the Blue Label was one of the finest scotches in the world. A quality reflected in its heavy price tag. Soarin’s frugal nature usually restricted him to the more affordable Black Label.

“Thank you so much, Boss!” Soarin’ exclaimed as he pulled Spitfire into a tight hug.

Spitfire laughed, her hooves patting the stallions back. “Easy on the wing there, buddy.”

“Sorry,” Soarin’ apologized as he released her, “it’s still weird not having you running the show.”

“Yeah,” Spitfire agreed, her posture sagging.

Soarin’ didn’t miss the subtle shift in her demeanor. “What’s up, Boss? You look like something’s eating you.”

Spitfire let loose a puff of air through her lips. “Yeah… yeah I guess you could say that.”

Soarin’s lips formed a concerned frown. “Wanna talk about it?”

“Actually, I’d like that,” Spitfire answered with a tired sigh.

“Go make yourself comfortable on the patio. I’ll get a couple glasses for the scotch,” Soarin’ instructed her.

Spitfire chuckled and nodded, easily making her way to the glass patio door. Pulling it open, she felt a rush of sea wind wash over her face; the smell of the ocean salt filling her sinuses as she stepped onto the patio. Spitfire felt a small pang of regret for not visiting Soarin’s place more often, if for no other reason than the fantastic view.

She made herself comfortable in one of the chairs, her eyes focused on the distant tides. Spitfire didn’t have a Manehattan flat, she much preferred to live in Cloudsdale whenever possible. Still, the view Soarin’ had was almost enough to make her reconsider. Almost.

Soarin’ walked out onto the patio soon after Spitfire, a pair of glasses tucked under his left foreleg and the bottle of scotch under his wing. With great care and practiced ease, he set the both down on a small metal table between the two chairs. Pouring an equal portion into both glasses, Soarin’ offered her the first one.

“Sorry I don’t have anything to mix it with,” he said.

“Don’t worry about it,” Spitfire replied, carefully accepting the glass in her hooves.

Soarin’ sat in his chair and relaxed with a loud sigh. Silence settled between the two, only the wind and the distant sounds of the ocean filled the air. Spitfire giggled softly, earning a confused look from Soarin’.

“You know what’s funny?” Spitfire asked.

“A comedian,” Soarin’ answered.

“Oh, haha,” Spitfire said with a roll of her eyes, “no, what’s funny is that you, a pegasus who won’t even fly over an ocean, springs for the apartment with the nicest Oceanside view possible.”

Soarin’ shrugged, taking a sip of his scotch before he answered. “I can appreciate the view much better from over here.”

“Why are you afraid of deep water anyway?” Spitfire asked.

Soarin’ was quiet for a moment as he considered the question. He swirled the amber liquid in his glass, the cubes of ice gently clinking against their confines.

“A long time ago, back when I was first learning to fly, my family went to visit my mom’s parents in Germaneigh.” Soarin’ paused for a drink of his scotch, savoring the smooth burn and rich flavors as they ran down his throat. “Well, we went to the beach one day, lovely place with white sands and a steady breeze. Grandpa wanted to go for a flight, I wanted to go with him, so I hopped up on his back and we took off.

We got a little ways over the ocean, and I decided I was gonna try to fly again. So I spread my wings and got a feel for the air, then I let go of Grandpa, and for a couple minutes I was flying.”

Spitfire nodded, her expression serious. “What happened?”

“We ran into a crosswind,” Soarin’ said with a small shrug, “not a problem for anypony really, but it surprised me and I lost control. Went right into the drink, sploosh!” He emphasized the motion with a slap of his hoof against his thigh. “Grandpa and Dad got me out really quick, but I managed to get a good drink of saltwater first. Was sick to my stomach for a while.”

“Well all things considered you turned out reasonably okay,” Spitfire said.

Soarin’ chuckled and took another sip. “So boss, what brings you here?”

“I’m not allowed to hang out with my favorite stallion?” she countered.

“Well you did bring me booze,” Soarin’ said, feigning a contemplative look and rubbing his chin with a fetlock.

“The good stuff too!” Spitfire said, raising her glass.

“In all seriousness though, Boss, what’s up?” Soarin’ asked, his concern all but written on his face. “You really do look strung out about something.”

Spitfire was silent for a few moments, absently swirling the drink in her glass. “I… I, uh, I find myself in a situation where I don’t know what to do.”

Soarin’s right eyebrow arched upward. “What happened?”

“Arcus cornered me this morning,” Spitfire said.

“Ah,” Soarin’ replied, “force you to admit you were seeing Rainbow in a ‘more-than-friends’ way?”

“Pretty much,” Spitfire answered with a tired nod.

“How’d he take it?” Soarin’ asked, taking another sip of his drink.

“He told me to break up with her immediately,” she answered.

Soarin’ flinched as though the words had struck him. “Dang, Spits, that’s…well I don’t even know what to tell you.”

“It’s alright,” Spitfire said, downing the last of her drink. The alcohol filled her gut with a sense of warmth she had been missing all day. Yet it could do nothing to loosen the knot in her stomach. “I just… I don’t know what to do, Soarin’.”

“Well, what’d Arcus say?” Soarin’ asked, even though he was sure he didn’t want to know.

Spitfire’s frown turned to an angry scowl. “He said as long as I’m a Wonderbolt, and she wants to be a Wonderbolt, then we can’t have a relationship. That she’d be seen as the mare that got in on her back.”

Soarin’ nodded as he listened. “Cause she’d be dating the boss?”

“Yeah,” Spitfire sighed, “Arcus is worried about media perception, and the team politics.”

“I can understand that,” Soarin’ said, the comment earning a disheartened glare from Spitfire. “C’mon Boss, you remember how it was with Rapid when we brought him on.”

“I remember riding his ass,” Spitfire said.

Soarin’ snorted and did his best to keep a serious look on his face. It was several moments before Spitfire realized what she said.

“Wait, that came out wrong…” she noted glibly.

“That’s not the only thing,” Soarin’ giggled.

“Anyway!” Spitfire continued, her cheeks flushed pink, “I didn’t show Rapid any favoritism.”

“I don’t know, Spits, you did let him get away with a lot of stuff nopony else could.” Soarin’ commented.

“Like what?” Spitfire challenged.

“The rampant pranks on almost everypony, the lack of total military discipline, the—”

“Okay, okay,” Spitfire held up her hooves in surrender, “when it was just us, then yes I let Rapid be Rapid, but you can’t deny that when it came to practice, press, and performance, I made him work as hard as anyone else.”

“I agree, but to be fair, the rest of the team won’t care about that. They’ll care about what they see in the rec room.”

“It’s not like I’d make out with her on the pool table,” Spitfire said as she crossed her forelegs over her chest. “Though that does sound kinda fun.”

“Spits, I trust you with my life, you know that. And the team all trusts you too, if they didn’t they wouldn’t follow your orders,” Soarin’ said, setting his empty glass on the table. “But we’re all just normal ponies, and frankly, on Friday when we were at the Café Amaréicain, and again on Sunday when we saw the Bad Seeds, you two were pretty close. It would be hard for the rest of us to see past that.”

Spitfire’s posture sank and her ears folded back. As much as she wanted to argue with Soarin’, she couldn’t refute his point.

“I don’t know what to do, Soarin’,” she began, her voice quiet. “On one hoof, I like Rainbow, and I wanna see how this goes. On the other hoof, it’s only a matter of time until she’s a Wonderbolt as well, and then she would be my subordinate. The media really would have a field day with that headline.”

“Have you talked to Rainbow yet?” Soarin’ asked.

Spitfire shook her head. “No, we didn’t have plans to see each other again until Wednesday.”

“She seemed like a smart girl to me,” Soarin’ said, “why not talk to her about it. Lay out the whole thing and figure out a plan with her.”

Spitfire stared at Soarin’ for a moment before a small smile formed on her lips. “Soarin’, if you were a mare I’d kiss you.”

“I’m sure you could use your imagination,” he suggested with a laugh.

“Oh, just make out with Rapid, he’s close enough,” Spitfire said, giving Soarin’ a flippant wave of her hoof.

“Keep dreaming, Boss.” Soarin’ said, his cheeks flushing slightly pink as he feigned interest in the ice cubes in his cup.

“Hey, uh, you mind if I crash here tonight? It’s a long walk back to my place and I don’t really wanna be in that hotel anymore,” Spitfire asked.

“You’re always welcome here, Boss.” Soarin’ said with a smile.

Promises to Keep

“Okay everypony, that’s all for today!” Rainbow shouted to her (mostly) unharmed lightning wrangler trainees. “Remember what we went over today, and be ready for tomorrow. We’re gonna’ practice handling these lightning clouds ‘till your primaries fall off.”

Landing on the cloud platform that she had turned into a training ground, Rainbow took a deep breath and smiled. So far, her plan to train Manehattan’s new lightning wranglers had been going splendidly. After some natural trepidation on Monday and Tuesday, the former cloud pushers were slowly starting to warm up to their new task. There were also plenty of singed feathers to go around, but that was why Rainbow had them working with very small clouds to start.

Despite the occasional zaps and Rainbow’s admittedly stringent demands, some ponies even seemed to be enjoying their new duties. Rainbow made a mental note to have their team leaders keep a close eye on them whenever she wasn’t around. Lightning wrangling was a bit of a catch twenty-two for pegasi. Lightning wranglers had to love their work, but they couldn’t let that passion override the fear they had for Thunderheads.

Without that fear of the power held in those ominous grey clouds, a weather pony was more likely to take shortcuts with them. The more shortcuts they took, the more they risked themselves or others. Rainbow had to catch herself on occasion when she started to forget her fear.

She brushed those thoughts aside as Flash Cloud approached. He was smiling, likely as pleased with the day’s progress as Rainbow was.

“So far, so good. Right, boss lady?” Flash asked.

“Yup,” Rainbow began, “if we keep on at this rate, we’ll get all these ponies ready in time for the storm.”

“Even if we only get half of them ready, the extra help would be amazing,” Flash commented, his eyes looking over the pegasi that hadn’t flown off yet.”

“Tomorrow, during the lunch break, you and I are gonna sit down and go over the city’s storm procedure,” Rainbow told Flash. “I need to know how Downburst ran things, and I want you to come up with a set of pros and cons for it. We’ll improve on what’s good and cut what’s bad.”

“Sounds good to me,” Flash agreed. “Oh, the senior managers are still meeting you for breakfast tomorrow morning, right?”

“That’s the plan,” Rainbow said.

“‘Kay, I’ll remind Dewdrop and Headwind when I see them,” Flash said, smiling pleasantly at Rainbow.

“Awesome, thanks,” Rainbow said, grinning brightly as she outstretched her wings and took to the skies. She had some time before she and Spitfire had planned to meet, and Rainbow intended to make the most of it.

It took Rainbow the better part of an hour to get everything set up right, mostly because she had to keep at sub-rainboom speeds and certain shops were busier than others. Still, Rainbow didn’t consider herself the fastest mare alive for nothing, and fittingly, she was still a little ahead of schedule when she arrived at Spitfire’s hotel.

Rainbow flew around the building once, trying to recall which window was Spitfire’s. After getting her bearings, she flew to the window in question and peered inside. She spotted Spitfire easily enough; the Wonderbolt was lying on her bed with a book in her hooves and a rather bored look on her face. Rainbow could sympathize with that feeling rather well.

Lifting her hoof to the glass, she gave it a gentle knock to draw Spitfire’s attention. The Wonderbolt jumped at first, the book fumbling out of her hooves and onto her face. Rainbow snorted and quickly moved to hide her smirk behind her hoof. Spitfire soon made her way over to the window, opening it wide enough for Rainbow to fly in.

“Hey Rainbow,” Spitfire greeted her with a hug, “have a good day at work?”

“Yeah, it was pretty good,” Rainbow answered quickly. “Hey, are you free, like right now?”

“Um, yeah, but—”

“Great!” Rainbow turned around so she was facing the open window. “Hop on my back, I wanna show you something.”

Spitfire stared at Rainbow dubiously. “You’re not gonna pull a rainboom again are you? Cause I think that might break a few windows right here.”

“Nah, not this time. I got something else in mind,” Rainbow promised.

Spitfire hesitated; she had been hoping to talk to Rainbow first. At the same time, she was curious what Rainbow had in mind. She mentally cursed herself; she couldn’t resist a good surprise.

“Okay, Rainbow,” Spitfire relented, carefully climbing onto Rainbow’s back.

Rainbow suppressed a shiver when Spitfire’s strong forelegs slid around her. The warmth of Spitfire’s breath washed over the back of her neck as she made herself comfortable. Rainbow let a slow breath out of her mouth and waited, eventually Spitfire’s lips ghosted over her ear.

“Giddy up little pony,” Spitfire whispered playfully.

Rainbow’s cheeks burned and her heart fluttered. She cleared her throat and managed a nod before she leapt out of the open window. Her wings spread, catching the air and holding the two mares aloft. With a series of powerful flaps Rainbow quickly gained altitude.

Spitfire closed her eyes and savored the feel of the wind over her coat again. She resisted the temptation to stretch her wings. As much as Spitfire longed to feel the wind beneath her wings again, she knew very well how much that act would mess up Rainbow’s flying.

Rainbow flew at a casual speed, giving Spitfire ample time to enjoy the facsimile of flying as well as the Manehattan skyline. Spitfire noticed that Rainbow was flying higher than the weather ponies to keep from being spotted, a fact that Spitfire was very appreciative of. They didn’t talk during the flight; there wasn’t much of a point to it at any rate. They would have had to yell awkwardly to hear each other over the wind rushing over their ears.

Eventually, Rainbow began her descent towards the hills outside of the city. Spitfire peered over Rainbow’s shoulder, spotting a red and white blanket laid out under a large maple tree. Spitfire waited until they landed before she spoke.

“What’s all this, Dash?” Spitfire asked, sliding off of Rainbow’s back and onto her hooves.

“One sec,” Rainbow answered, taking back off and disappearing into the dense tree for a moment. She returned with a wicker picnic basket held firmly in her teeth.

Spitfire could see the shy smile at the corners of Rainbow’s mouth and the faint blush of pink in her cheeks as she landed on the blanket. Setting the basket down, she opened the lid and pulled out a bottle of cider, two glasses, several sandwiches, and a small fruit tray. Rainbow’s blush seemed to deepen with every passing second, Spitfire tried not to giggle.

“Sorry it’s kinda lame,” Rainbow said with a sheepish smile, her hoof rubbing the back of her head.

Spitfire felt a familiar heat fill her cheeks again. She found the simple gesture oddly flattering. It had been years since a date had done something like this for her. It reminded her of the good days with Zephyr, before the Wonderbolts and before the responsibilities.

Spitfire almost flinched thinking about her responsibilities. Rainbow noticed the Wonderbolt’s turmoil.

“Don’t like it?” Rainbow asked, her ears flattening slightly as she tried not to be disappointed in herself.

“No! I-I mean, yes, yes I do like it! Its—uuggh,” Spitfire sat down and pressed a hoof to her forehead. “I’m sorry Rainbow, I’m havin’ kind of a rough week.”

Rainbow let out a relieved sigh; glad she hadn’t bucked anything up. She walked over to Spitfire and sat down beside her. After a moment of psyching herself up to it, Rainbow put her wing around Spitfire’s back.

“Wanna talk about it?” Rainbow asked.

Spitfire gave Rainbow a tired smile. “It involves you anyway.”

“Should I be nervous?” Rainbow asked, half in jest and half serious.

“Well, truth be told, I am,” Spitfire answered.

The statement caught Rainbow’s attention. She scooted closer to Spitfire and pulled her into a sidelong hug. “Well, what’s up?”

“Well, Rainbow,” Spitfire began letting a long sigh out as she spoke, “I find myself in an awkward position, and I honestly don’t know the best way to proceed.”

Rainbow nodded, giving Spitfire her undivided attention.

“You remember what I told you about Arcus?” Spitfire asked.

“He’s the pony who told you to keep things with your marefriend secret, right?”

“Pretty much,” Spitfire confirmed with a nod. “I’ll spare you the grisly details, but he found out that you and I were a thing.”

Rainbow’s brow furrowed, thin lines forming across her face as she started putting the pieces together in her head. “I’m guessing he wasn’t too thrilled?”

“That would be putting it mildly,” Spitfire answered with a weary laugh. “He ordered me to break it off with you and cease all contact.”

Spitfire couldn’t blame Rainbow Dash for the shocked gasp or the way she recoiled as though the words physically struck her. “That is such a pile of donkey—”

“I know, I know!” Spitfire interrupted, taking Rainbow’s hoof in hers. “I don’t want to do that to you, Dash.”

The words seemed to settle Rainbow down, slightly. Though Spitfire could tell the weather manager was still on edge, not that she could blame Dash for that.

“I’m sorry I got angry,” Rainbow apologized, her hoof tracing small circles on the blanket.

Spitfire held up a hoof to Rainbow’s lips. “It’s fine, Dash. I’d be ticked too. Hay, I am. But Arcus did have a few legitimate points that I think you should know first.”

Rainbow took a deep breath before she nodded. “Okay, okay, lets hear ‘em.”

Spitfire leaned her weight against Rainbow, just for once, letting another pony bear the weight on their shoulders. She was quiet for several minutes as she considered how to say things. Rainbow didn’t seem to mind, her wing slightly adjusting so both mares were comfortable.

“Being a Wonderbolt… it’s, um… no, no let me start again,” Spitfire said with a sigh, running her hoof through her mane. “Arcus is really concerned about what the, um, implications would be if we stayed together. He’s concerned that the media will slander us, what the team would think, and how it could hurt everypony in the long term.”

“I don’t see how us hanging out would be anypony else’s problem,” Rainbow said.

“I’m sure you’ve noticed by now, Rainbow, but Wonderbolts are just normal ponies too. We get jealous, we get mad, we get sick, we act dumb, and the list goes on. There’s some ponies on the team who would see us and think that because we’re dating I’d be going easy on you or giving you special privileges.”

“I’d never forgive you if you did,” Rainbow said, giving Spitfire a playful nudge.

Spitfire snorted in amusement and tousled Dash’s mane with her hoof. “That’s my girl.”

Rainbow batted Spitfire’s hoof away with a giggle. “So, what happens if we keep doing this?

“Absolute worst case scenario,” Spitfire began, rubbing her chin with a fetlock, “the media makes a scandal that I’m taking advantage of an Element of Harmony, Celestia sends me to the moon, and you’re out a marefriend.”

“Maybe if I was Twilight she’d send you to the moon,” Rainbow said, her mouth a lopsided smirk.

“Realistically speaking, I don’t know. I could be fired or you could be blacklisted. Honestly, Dash, I don’t know what would happen. And to be frank, I’m afraid to find out,” Spitfire said, her posture sagging as she put her head in her hooves. “I don’t know what to do, Rainbow. I mean, I’ve loved spending this time with you and I don’t want to stop, but at the same time I don’t want to see you get hurt by office politics or media smear campaigns. Those fights get ugly fast, and some ponies aren’t afraid to fight dirty.”

Silence again settled between the two. Spitfire’s thoughts sullen, Rainbow’s contemplative. After a few moments, it was Rainbow who broke the silence.

“Hey, Spitfire?” She began, her voice soft as she looked up at the setting sun.

“Yeah?”

“When I got this assignment to run the Manhattan weather team, I was convinced it was gonna be a two month long borefest,” Rainbow began with an amused grin, “then you trotted up and tried to kill me with a sandwich.”

“Hey it’s not my fault you inhaled your lunch,” Spitfire chided with a smirk, “besides, I knew you were too cool to let a sandwich beat you.”

Rainbow smiled and chuckled. “Anyway, last week was the most fun I’ve had in long time. And I really don’t want that feeling to end, but I don’t wanna hurt your career either.”

Spitfire nodded, her left foreleg sliding around Rainbow’s waist. “So what do you want us to do, Rainbow?”

“I… I want us to be an “us” until we decide to end it, not because some old pony told us to,” Rainbow said, turning so her eyes locked with Spitfire’s. “I’m not gonna be told by anypony how I should live my life or who I can or can’t be with. I don’t care what the press says or what other ponies say. I’ll just work harder and prove them all wrong.”

“What if those other ponies are Wonderbolts who think you made the cut by being with me?” Spitfire asked.

The question sparked a fire in Rainbow’s eyes. “Then I’ll prove ‘em all wrong. I’ll prove to them that I got the team because I earned it. No matter how long it takes.”

Spitfire nodded, a warmth filling her chest from the younger mare’s determination. “So, you want to stay marefriends? Even knowing things could get nasty in a hurry?”

“Promise me one thing?” Rainbow asked.

“Yeah?”

Rainbow pulled Spitfire close, her head resting on Spitfire’s shoulder. “Promise me that no matter how this ends, we can stay friends?”

Spitfire smiled, pressing her lips to the top of Rainbow’s head in a gentle kiss. “I swear on my pinions, Rainbow Dash."

Culinary Misadventure

“Oh I’ve got a lovely bunch of coconuts dee de lee dee de lee, I really, really hate this stupid song,” Spitfire sang to herself as she rummaged for something to eat. One of the perks of having a celebrity caliber hotel suite was having a small kitchenette where she could prepare food.

This, of course, implied that Spitfire was capable of cooking anything more complicated than a sandwich.

It was a stark contrast to how she had spent the previous Friday, dining at what was probably the fanciest restaurant in Manehattan with Rainbow, Soarin’, and Rapid. Sadly, the Wonderbolts didn’t pay well enough for her to do that sort of thing very often. Finding just enough to make a simple sandwich, Spitfire laid out the ingredients on the small countertop and went to turn on the radio. After all, cooking without music was just a chore she had to eat at the end.

Surfing through the channels for a moment, she stopped when a familiar tune caught her ear. The catchy guitar riff underlying a seemingly soft spoken singer, Spitfire bobbed her head in time with the music, swinging her hips in time with the song.

“Ooh yeah!” Spitfire cheered, dancing her way back to the kitchenette.

Hopping up to her hind legs, Spitfire spun in a tight circle while stretching out a foreleg in a sloppy ballet dance toward her unassembled lunch. Planting her front hooves on the counter, Spitfire shook her flank left and right to the beat as she began making her sandwich.

Bread was sliced, lettuce savaged, and innocent tomatoes bisected in Spitfire’s quest for satisfaction. She took hold of a zucchini in her fetlock and held it to her lips like a microphone.

“The things you said and did to me, they seemed to come so easily, the love I thought I’d won you give for freeeeee!” she sang loudly, imagining herself under the spotlight and being cheered for by thousands of captivated mares and stallions.

“I found out about you-oo, I found out about you-oo-oo!” She sang, leaning back as far as she could before arching forward and dropping the zucchini back to the counter.

With the shake of her plot she resumed the careful and highly scientific assembly her sandwich. A few shakes of oregano, salt, pepper, a mess of this, a pile of that, so on and so forth until an (allegedly) edible mound of produce and seasonings sat betwixt two pieces of bread.

That qualified as a sandwich, right?

Spitfire scooped up the so-called sandwich in her hooves and took a big bite. Chewing thoughtfully for a minute she pondered the deeper questions of existence. Why was cucumber spelled with a c instead of a q? Why was it impossible to sneeze while peeing? How did she manage to ruin perfectly good lettuce, tomatoes, onions, zucchini, and bread in a seemingly simple attempt to combine them into a sandwich?

With a shudder, Spitfire tossed the... culinary misadventure into the trash and popped a chunk of lettuce into her mouth. Resting her elbow on the counter, she leaned her cheek against her hoof and let out a bored sigh. Her free hoof rested on the remaining half of the zucchini which she rolled over the countertop as she contemplated ways to pass the time.

The song on the radio faded as a second song took its place. A pair of guitars played a reserved pattern, an understated strings section calling out in the back of the mix. Spitfire smiled, the song feeling like a warm fire on a cold day.

A series of sharp knocks on the window caught Spitfire’s attention as the singer began. Turning so she could see, Spitfire smiled as she saw Rainbow Dash hovering outside her window. Rainbow gave a weary smile and a little wave to Spitfire as their eyes met. Spitfire quickly trotted over and pulled the window open. No sooner had Rainbow flown into the window than Spitfire pulled her into a tight embrace.

“Hey, good looking,” Spitfire said, her voice quiet.

“Hey yourself,” Rainbow answered with a soft smile.

Spitfire smiled, closing her eyes and leaning forward for a light kiss. She felt the familiar shiver down her back when their lips met, a shiver accompanied by Rainbow’s soft gasp. All too soon, their lips parted. Spitfire’s nose bumped Rainbow’s in an eskimo kiss, the gesture earning a little giggle from her marefriend.

“You okay, Rainbow? You look dead on your hooves,” Spitfire noted, draping her good wing over Rainbow’s back and ushering her towards the kitchenette.

“I feel dead on my hooves,” Rainbow agreed, her posture sagging.

“Rough day?” Spitfire asked.

Rainbow Dash answered with a mute nod, leaning her weight against Spitfire’s side.

“Feelin’ a bit pent-up?” Spitfire asked.

“Yeah,” Rainbow answered, her gaze meeting Spitfire’s. “Know a good cure for it?”

Spitfire thought for a moment, rubbing her chin with her foreleg. Her eyes shifted from Rainbow, to the bed, to the half of a zucchini sitting on the counter. Looking back at Rainbow, Spitfire smiled and planted a gentle kiss on the weather manager’s nose.

“Go sit on the bed, I’ll be there in a minute,” Spitfire said with a wink.

Rainbow’s face scrunched, her right eyebrow slowly arching upward. “Uh, okay... “

Spitfire gave Rainbow a reassuring smile and a kiss on the cheek before gently nudging her towards the bedroom. As Rainbow left, Spitfire took the zucchini in her teeth and smiled. As she made her way towards the bedroom, she turned up the music on the radio.

“Nnnh… Ohh, ow-ow-ow! Easy!” Rainbow groaned.

“It’s not my fault you’re so tight,” Spitfire grunted, applying more pressure with her hooves.

Rainbow cried out loudly, her left hoof frantically tapping the mattress in surrender. “Do you have to use two at once?”

“It’s good for you, it builds character.” Spitfire answered.

“I—Ouch!” Rainbow yelped, “I’ll live without anymore character!”

“You can never have enough character,” Spitfire grunted, adjusting herself into a better position. “Okay, I think I got it, this might hurt a bit, but better you than me!”

“Wait... what?” Rainbow balked, looking over her shoulder.

“Hold still,” Spitfire commanded, pressing her hooves harder than before, lightly twisting them against Rainbow’s unyielding flesh.

“Wait-wait-waiiiiiiieeeee—“ Rainbow squealed, her back arching as Spitfire’s hooves accomplished their goal. The momentary spike of pain replaced by a sense of relief and pleasure Rainbow had never quite experienced. With a satisfied moan, she flopped face down onto the soft mattress, limp.

Spitfire chuckled, her hooves gently rubbing Rainbow’s back. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen a pony with so much tension in their shoulders. You really should see a professional masseur sometime, Dash.”

Rainbow made a noncommittal groan and gave Spitfire a flippant wave of her hoof.

Spitfire smiled and continued her work. She was by no means the best masseur around, but that hadn’t stopped her from learning a few things from the physical therapists that the team kept on staff over the years. Her hooves worked in small concentric circles, seeking the myriad of knots and working them out as gently as she could.

Rainbow hissed when Spitfire pressed on a particularly sore spot and moaned in relief once Spitfire dealt with the problem. “Rough day at work?”

Rainbow made a slight nod. After Wednesday’s... adventure with the photographer, the two had gone to their movie, a decent—if forgettable—action film. After sharing a simple dinner Rainbow had flown Spitfire to her hotel. They hadn't seen each other at all on Thursday.

The day off had been a mutual agreement. For Spitfire she had learned that a healthy relationship occasionally necessitated some time off, so to speak. For Rainbow, she had a lot of work to do, including a formal introduction to the mayor of Manehattan after her regular shift was over. Spitfire sympathized with her worn out marefriend; she hated meeting politicians. Well... most politicians. Some still had some semblance of a soul left, if a pony were inclined to be generous in their definitions.

Spitfire shook her head, clearing it of the errant thoughts. “What happened?”

“Headwind, the lead cloud pusher, had to take the day off. I guess one of his kids has a nasty case of feather flu,” Rainbow said.

Spitfire winced; feather flu was rough, even for adult pegasi. For young fillies and colts it could be very dangerous. “Any idea how bad it is?”

“Didn’t ask, I just told him to take all the time he needed,” Rainbow answered, hissing for a moment as Spitfire worked out another knot.

“That was nice of you, Rainbow,” Spitfire said, smiling down at the weather manager.

“It’s just the right thing to do, but it happened at just about the worst time possible.”

“How so? I don’t think there’s really a convenient time to be sick,” Spitfire said.

“No, it’s not him or his kids,” Rainbow answered quickly, “it’s just that—well, we’ve got a big storm coming up in a couple weeks, and on weather teams, that means that half the team take their vacations before the storm, and the other half take vacations after.”

“So you’re down half your crew?” Spitfire guessed.

“More than half,” Rainbow said with a weary sigh. “Over half my cloud pushers and rain ponies have taken their vacations now. I’m down about sixty percent right now. And it’d probably be more if I wasn’t holding the lightning wranglers hostage!”

Spitfire chuckled, slipping off of Rainbow’s back and laying beside her. She waited until Rainbow rolled to her side so they could face each other before wrapping her hooves around the weather manager’s waist. Spitfire pulled Rainbow close, stopping once their noses bumped together.

“So I’m guessing you’ve been picking up the slack?” Spitfire asked.

“A bit, yeah,” Rainbow said.

Spitfire’s right eyebrow arched up slightly, her lips pulling into a curious frown. “So besides training the new lightning ponies, how much work are you doing?”

“It’s nothing I can’t handle,” Rainbow answered.

“I know, I know. You are a very exceptional mare, Rainbow,” Spitfire began, again noticing the subtle flinch that the complement triggered.

“I guess,” Rainbow said with a shrug.

Spitfire rubbed Rainbow’s back lightly with a hoof, the curiosity becoming unbearable for her. “Can I ask you something personal?”

“Well, I’m kinda laying in your bed,” Rainbow answered, an amused grin on her lips.

Spitfire laughed. “True enough.”

Rainbow scooted herself into a more comfortable position, her left foreleg slipping around Spitfire. “What’s on your mind?”

“Well,” Spitfire began, hesitating for a moment, “Has um, has something been eating at you?”

“What do you mean?” Rainbow said, blinking several times in confusion.

“I’ve noticed that something seems to make you look really uncomfortable whenever somepony talks you up.”

“I, uh, I don’t think—”

“Rainbow Dash, you are the most awesome pony in Equestria,” Spitfire interrupted.

Rainbow’s ears fell back slightly and a small wince flashed over her face. Before she could speak, Spitfire spoke again.

“That! Right there!”

“What right where?” Rainbow asked.

“I call you the most awesome mare in Equestria, and it makes you flinch like I kicked you in the gut,” Spitfire said.

“I-I don’t think I flinched...” Rainbow mumbled, her cheeks flushing red.

“Hey now, it’s okay,” Spitfire said, planting a soft kiss on Rainbow’s lips. “I’m just... well, worried about you.”

“I’m fine!” Rainbow said far too quickly.

Spitfire frowned and allowed the worry to show on her face. “Rainbow, you can talk to me. Thats what marefriends do.”

Rainbow sighed, shaking her head subtly as she considered Spitfire’s case. “It’s nothing, really. Just me being stupid.”

“Well everypony is guilty of that from time to time,” Spitfire said.

Rainbow scoffed, rolling onto her back and staring at the ceiling. “I seem to be pretty good at it.”

“Hey,” Spitfire began, resting her hoof on Rainbow’s shoulder. “Don’t put yourself down like that. Now come on, tell me what’s eating you?”

Rainbow took a slow, deep breath through her nose, holding it for a moment before slowly puffing it out through her lips. “It’s stupid.”

“Well tell me about it anyway,” Spitfire said, adjusting herself into a more comfortable position.

Rainbow sighed again, subtly shaking her head. “It was last summer. I was flying around, just having some fun, when I heard a filly shouting for help. She had fallen into an open well. So I flew down and pulled her out. A couple days later, I saved a runaway baby carriage.”

“Thats awesome, Rainbow Dash!” Spitfire praised.

Rainbow shook her head side to side, the corners of her mouth turned down in a small frown. “If I would’ve left it there then yeah, I guess.”

“What happened?”

“Everypony in town started calling me a hero, taking my picture, that sort of thing. I... I let it get to my head.”

“What do you mean?”

“I acted like a donkey, I gloated, I preened, and I was stupid. My friends... my friends set me straight and... and showed me that I was being an idiot.” Rainbow said, her voice trembling slightly as she nodded her head as if she was trying to fully convince herself.

Concern filled Spitfire’s expression, her brows knitting together and a frown pulling at her lips. “What did they do?”

“It’s no big deal,” Rainbow said.

“Rainbow,”

“It really wasn’t a big—”

“From over here it looks like it was kind of a big deal.” Spitfire interrupted, causing Rainbow to flinch. Spitfire lifted a hoof to Rainbow’s cheek and gently turned the younger mare to face her. “What happened?”

“It’s in the past now, what does it matter?” Rainbow asked.

“Cause its something that seems to bother you, and as your marefriend I think I’m allowed to care about you.”

Rainbow chuckled from the comment, a hoof rubbing at her tired eyes. “I let the glory get to me. I strutted, I bragged, and I acted like I was some big shot. And I, uh... I went too far.”

Spitfire nodded slowly, keeping her gaze on Rainbow and her hooves around the younger mare’s waist.

“I loved being in the spotlight like that, ponies looking up to me, praising me, it was the best feeling ever, you know? It just made me feel like a million bits! I mean, I love weather work too, but nopony ever comes up to a weather pony and says “Hey, thanks for the nice cloud cover so I can have that picnic in the shade!”. No, they just take it for granted until there’s a rainstorm. Then they can’t stop telling me how we’re ruining this, that, or the other thing!

“Hay, the farm ponies are even worse. One day it’s too dry, then we make it rain and they yell that its too wet! Okay fine; we leave it for a few days and then give it a light shower, now it’s not wet enough! And thats nothing compared to when we’re in a dry spell and Cloudsdale is rationing the rain clouds. Then I’ve got every farmer in town yelling at me why their crops deserve the most of the water ration and the mayor telling me I need to get water into the public parks so the damn flowers don’t wilt!” Rainbow shouted, throwing her hooves above her in frustration. After a deep breath and a heavy sigh, Rainbow continued.

“So when ponies started calling me a hero, I began wondering if that was what it was like to be a Wonderbolt. My friends... my friends saw I had my head stuck in the clouds and they pulled me back to the ground.”

“How did they pull you down?” Spitfire asked, her voice gentle.

Rainbow shook her head. “They put their heads together and created a mystery pony. That pony would show up to a problem around the same time I did, then they’d fix it and disappear. Everything I thought I was good at, they were better. Then, before I knew it, everypony in town was talking about this mare. I was back to being the lowly weather mare, and nopony cared what I did so long as the rain didn’t inconvenience them. So I... I got angry.

“I interrupted a town ceremony where everypony was honoring this pony and demanded she take her mask off. She took off and led me on a chase through the town. I managed to catch her and pull her mask off which was when I found out it was one of my friends wearing it. Then the others showed up wearing their costumes too.”

“Why did they do that?” Spitfire asked in veiled disappointment.

“Because I was being a puffed up bragger, and they—”

“They couldn’t have just said, ‘Hey Rainbow, you’re acting like a donkey’?” Spitfire asked.

“They did what they thought was best,” Rainbow argued.

“From over here it looks more like they did their best to mock you.”

“They’re my friends!” Rainbow snapped as she sat up. “They wouldn’t do that to me!”

“I didn’t phrase that right, and I’m sorry.” Spitfire apologized, sitting up next to Rainbow and holding her hooves up in surrender. “I’m not saying they meant it to insult you or hurt you, but from where I’m sitting it does look like it hurt you a bit.”

“Well you’re wrong,” Rainbow angrily said.

“Am I?” Spitfire asked, “you just told me how much you loved getting the all the attention that came from being a hero. Now when anypony tells you that you’re an awesome pony you flinch like they slapped you upside the head!”

The comment caused a flush of red to spread over Rainbow’s cheeks, her ears folding slightly back. “I do not!”

“You’re doing it right now,” Spitfire said.

“It’s not your problem,” Rainbow argued.

“As long as we’re marefriends then yeah, it is kinda my problem.”

Rainbow took a deep breath, allowing silence to settle over them for a time. “What do you want me to say? It was a bad time, I’m embarrassed about it, and I don’t like to bring it up.”

Spitfire wrapped a hoof around Rainbow’s shoulders, pulling her over until Rainbow was leaning against Spitfire. “I want you to be happy, Dash. I want you to take pride in your accomplishments and not feel like you’re being judged all the time. And I want there to be an us at least for a little while longer.”

Rainbow was quiet for a moment. With a gentle sigh, she nodded her head against Spitfire’s shoulder. “I want there to be an us too.”

“Well, if we just had our first fight we must really be a couple,” Spitfire joked, earning a small smile from Rainbow.

“Hey,” Rainbow began, her voice quiet. “Can I... can I stay here tonight?”

Spitfire smiled and kissed the top of Rainbow’s head while her hooves tightened their embrace. “Of course you can, Dash.”

Pillow Talk

Music and soft giggling filled Spitfire’s suite. The two mares had remained snuggled together on the bed for nearly forty minutes before their mutual hunger forced them to take action. Half an hour and a call to room service later, they had relocated to the couch in the suite’s living area. Their meal: a freshly delivered pizza with a multitude of toppings that was absolutely guaranteed to make their morning breath an internationally banned weapon of war. Both Spitfire and Rainbow Dash dug in with gusto.

They savored every decadent bite, the crispy exterior of the crust that yielded to a soft, chewy center. The rich tomato sauce with hints of garlic, basil, oregano, and alcohol. The succulent blend of cheeses—sweet, salty, rich, and creamy—had all melted to the perfect consistency. The toppings of mushrooms, onions, olives, and green peppers had all been cut to the perfect sizes. There had been a brief conversation for the theoretical addition of pineapples, but both Rainbow and Spitfire agreed in the end: pineapples had no place on a pizza.

After downing the pizza like a pair of starving cats in a bucket of fresh cream, Spitfire sprawled across the couch on her back, her left foreleg tucked behind her head. Rainbow followed her lead, lying beside Spitfire with a content smile on her lips. Spitfire smirked and draped a hoof over Rainbow’s waist.

“Hey there, stranger,” Spitfire said, stealing a light nuzzle.

Rainbow giggled and snuggled into the warmth of Spitfire’s body. “Hey yourself. Thanks for buying dinner, by the way.”

“Happy to do it,” Spitfire replied, planting a wet kiss on the weather manager’s cheek.

Rainbow giggled and stuck her tongue out at the Wonderbolt. “Eeeew!”

Spitfire shot a mischievous look at the smaller pegasus and sucked in a quick breath before blowing a very loud raspberry on Rainbow’s cheek.

“Ahh!” Rainbow squealed as she flailed against Spitfire’s iron grip, “No-noooo-nooooo! Ahahaha! Stop-stop-stop, staaahahahahaaap!”

Spitfire did not stop, at least not until she laughed so hard she snorted. Rainbow Dash seized on the opportunity, slipping free of Spitfire’s grasp and bounding into the bedroom. Spitfire sat up, still giggling and wiping tears of laughter from her eyes. The moment she lowered her hoof, a fluffy white pillow hit her right in the face with a loud “fwomp”.

Spitfire yelped, her limbs flailing wildly as she fell over from the dastardly sneak attack. The sound of Rainbow’s boisterous laughter filled Spitfire’s ears. Pulling the pillow off her face, Spitfire glared at Rainbow. The weather manager stuck her tongue out before grabbing a second pillow in her teeth.

“Oh, it is so on!” Spitfire declared. Biting the corner of the pillow, she gave a muffled war cry as she leapt off the couch and chased Rainbow into the bedroom. Rainbow darted around the corner before Spitfire got there. The Wonderbolt was greeted to the bedroom with another pillow strike to the face.

“Oh I’m gonna kick your flank!” Spitfire promised.

Rainbow waggled her eyebrows up and down. “Catch me if you can, slow poke!”

With a gleeful howl, Spitfire charged. Her first swing went high, the pillow whiffing several inches over Rainbow’s head. Rainbow’s strike caught spitfire in the legs, nearly tripping her as she inelegantly stumbled out of the way. Spitfire’s second strike was more successful, the pillow striking Rainbow’s backside with a fwomp.

Rainbow made a satisfying yelp; the noise was like fine wine to Spitfire’s ears. She savored it, at least until a pillow slapped her right in the face. Spitfire recoiled and struck back, her pillow coming down on Rainbow’s head. A few downy feathers, almost too small to see, were forcibly ejected from the pillow. Rainbow countered by sweeping low, her pillow nearly taking Spitfire’s legs out from under her.

A grim realization settled over Spitfire as the battle progressed: she sucked at pillow fighting. Logic told her to retreat or surrender. She quickly concluded that logic could go suck a rock. She was the captain of the Wonderbolts! A proud member of the Royal Equestrian Air Force! She didn’t know the meaning of the word retreat! At least, that’s what she told herself as she advanced rapidly in the opposite direction.

Rainbow chased after Spitfire, her pillow giving a satisfying fwomp as it struck the Wonderbolt’s backside. Spitfire gave an indignant squeal which caused Rainbow to laugh and nearly lose her grip on her weapon. Quickly collecting herself, she reaffirmed her grasp on the pillow and pressed her advantage. Today, the weather manager would conquer the Wonderbolt!

Spitfire led Rainbow on a merry chase through the suite. The two darted from room to room, around tables, behind chairs and leapt over the furniture, their laughter only occasionally interrupted by the the occasional fwomp, yelp, and taunt. Finally, a plan formed in Spitfire’s mind.

Turning sharply, Spitfire darted back into the bedroom, Rainbow hot on her tail. Spitfire turned quickly, realizing she only had one shot to make her plan work. With a grunt, she threw her pillow at Rainbow’s face. The weather manager was taken off guard by Spitfire voluntarily relinquishing her weapon and found her vision obscured by the fluffy white mass. Spitfire took full advantage of Rainbow’s loss in momentum.

She sprang forward, her hooves outstretched and tackled Rainbow to the ground. Wrapping all four limbs around Rainbow’s body, she pinned the smaller mare and prepared to declare her victory. It was at that point Spitfire realized a key flaw in her plan: Rainbow Dash was stronger than she was.

“Thats cheating!” Rainbow said with mock disdain, her lips spread into a bright smile.

“All’s fair in love and war!” Spitfire shot back, doing her best to keep hold of Rainbow.

“Oh yeah? How’s about this then!”

Without delay, Rainbow began leaping and bucking around the room like a possessed mare. It was all Spitfire could do to keep her grip and not take an unscheduled flight across the room. Spitfire wracked her brain for a plan, Rainbow had speed and strength on her side, but Spitfire had training.

Waiting for Rainbow’s bout of energetic thrashing to slow down, Spitfire quickly hooked her left foreleg around Rainbow’s elbow. With a hard tug, Rainbow’s footing was suddenly out of balance. Rainbow let out a surprised squeak shortly before she found herself face down in the carpet.

Rainbow then tried a different tactic; rolling to the side in an attempt to pry Spitfire off of her the hard way. Spitfire obliged, slipping off of Rainbow’s back only to hop back on top of Rainbow once the weather manager was on her back. Spitfire spread her wings as much as she could, her hooves pinning Rainbow’s shoulders.

“Haha! Surrender o’ worthy foe!” Spitfire declared.

“You’ll never take me alive!”

“Oh yeeaaah?”

“Yeah!”

“Well how about this!” Spitfire shouted just before pressing her lips to Rainbow’s, her tongue slipping into Rainbow’s mouth.

The jeers, cheers, and laughter turned to silence, replaced by the heavy breathing of the two mares engaged in a duel of the tongues. Spitfire pulled back, their lips parting as Spitfire gazed into Rainbow’s eyes. Rainbow reached up with a hoof, running it through Spitfire’s mane. Spitfire mirrored the gesture and smiled happily down to her marefriend. Rainbow smiled back, the familiar spark burning in her eyes.

“And who in Tartarus said you could stop?” Rainbow asked.

Spitfire giggled and leaned back down, her lips hungrily mashing with Rainbow’s. There, on the bedroom floor, they lost themselves to each other’s company.

Author's Note

Because I love you guys, here's a nonsense little fluff chapter to make up for last week's furlough.

See you Monday!

Feathers of Blue and Gold

She was flying.

Soaring through the skies on golden wings. The wind rushed through her mane, the delicate, ginger strands whipping back and forth. She was the master of the skies; the winds were her roads, the clouds her playthings. Spitfire let out a jubilant howl. Nothing compared to soaring through the skies.

Yet all was not well in the world. Storm clouds, wild, thick, and black roiled angrily on the horizon. They spread through the skies like ink flowing through clear waters. Lightning arced out at her, blinding her to the world. When Spitfire’s sight returned, she saw her wings were gone and in an instant she was falling towards the earth.

The winds, once her servants, now buffeted her body like a thousands of small punches. She screamed for help, but the roar of thunder drowned out her voice. Her hooves flailed in vain at the empty skies, reaching for clouds that weren’t there to save her.

The ground grew closer and closer, and Spitfire could do nothing to stop it. Then, just before she could hit the ground, strong hooves caught her and carried her away to safety. The impact startled Spitfire out of her dream.

She awoke with a sharp gasp, letting a trembling breath escape from her lips. She blinked rapidly until the room returned to focus. Spitfire was in bed, laying on her right side. Rainbow’s sleeping form was facing away from Spitfire, her back spooned up against Spitfire’s front. Spitfire took a moment to find the clock on the nightstand to check the time: five twenty-three in the morning.

Spitfire sighed heavily, pressing her face into the back of Rainbow’s mane. She took comfort in the smell—like spring rain and static. Careful not to wake the younger mare, Spitfire draped her left hoof over Rainbow’s side and scooted closer until her chest was flush with Rainbow’s back.

Rainbow shifted in her sleep, taking a deep breath before she settled back down. Spitfire allowed herself a small nuzzle against the back of Rainbow’s neck. She cherished the moment, savored the warmth where their bodies touched.

‘It’s been so long... I’ve missed this,’ Spitfire thought, closing her eyes and allowing herself a satisfied moan.

Her mind drifted to the events of the previous night. The fun she had experienced being chased around the suite by Rainbow. The pleasure she had found in the hours they had spent kissing and cuddling on the floor. Spitfire couldn’t recall the exact time they had moved to the bed, though she was pretty sure she had copped a feel or two before they had.

A rush of concern flooded her mind, causing Spitfire’s heart to skip a beat. If she had gotten a little bit... grabby, then she was pretty sure Rainbow hadn’t been offended. At least Rainbow hadn’t slapped her and stormed out, and given that the weather manager was still sleeping comfortably‚ Spitfire was fairly sure it was safe to assume Rainbow had enjoyed herself too.

Banishing those thoughts from her mind, Spitfire refocused her attention of the mare snuggled up against her. Rainbow’s wing was splayed out across the bed, her sky blue feathers tousled from sleep. Spitfire gave her wing a cautious stretch, flexing the stiff muscles for a moment before she draped her wing over Rainbow’s. The feathers of blue and gold brushing together and sending a tingle through the Wonderbolt.

Spitfire lifted her head from the pillows just enough so she could take stock of her own feathers. Unsurprisingly, they were just as ruffled from the night as Rainbow’s were. Laying her head back down, Spitfire filed that problem to the back of her mind. As far as she was concerned, the world could wait for a little longer.

Just for once, Spitfire wanted to sleep in with her marefriend.

Burying her nose into Rainbow’s mane, Spitfire closed her eyes and dozed. Soon enough she had returned to a light sleep, happily free of dreams. When she was roused again, it was from Rainbow’s semiconscious stretching.

Rainbow’s back arched, her forelegs and rear legs pulling in opposite directions as she yawned. The warmth of Rainbow’s body pulled away from Spitfire who, in a semiconscious daze herself, reacted by dragging Rainbow back to her. The surprised squeak that interrupted Rainbow’s yawn brought an amused smirk to Spitfire’s face.

“Morning,” Spitfire mumbled, quite comfortable in her position.

“Mornin’,” Rainbow replied, still groggy.

“Sleep good?” Spitfire asked.

“Mmhmm,” Rainbow gave a nod, “these beds are really comfy.”

“That they are.”

The two stayed in bed a little longer, enjoying the warmth and comfort while it lasted. Inevitably though, all things must come to an end. Even so, Spitfire didn’t let Rainbow squirm out of her grasp without at least a token fight.

“Lemme goooo,” Rainbow whined.

“Nah, you’re nice and warm,” Spitfire said, snuggling into Rainbow’s back.

“Come on,” Rainbow said as she squirmed in Spitfire’s grasp, “I gotta pee!”

Spitfire leaned over Rainbow, planting a kiss on her cheek before releasing the squirming weather mare. With a stretch, Rainbow hopped off the bed and made for the restroom. Spitfire lingered under the sheets for a moment, her eyes drifting to the long, multi colored hairs on Rainbow’s pillow.

With one last yawn, Spitfire pulled herself upright and out of bed. Taking a moment to stretch out, she groaned in satisfaction as a series of cracks went down her spine. That need satisfied, she trotted to the living room and made herself comfortable on the couch. Extending her wings she inspected her feathers in preparation for her morning preening. Before she could begin, Rainbow trotted out of the restroom with a satisfied sigh and a spring in her step.

“Have fun?” Spitfire asked, shooting a warm smile to Rainbow.

“Meh, I’ve had better,” Rainbow answered, shrugging as she sat beside Spitfire.

The wonderbolt shook her head as she chuckled. “Anything you wanna do today?”

“Wanna go flying?”

“More than anything, not that I can yet.” Spitfire said, her voice laced with sadness at the truth of her situation.

“You can ride on my back!” Rainbow said quickly, a bright smile on her lips. “We can just pack sandwiches and some drinks and we’ll just spend the day in the sky.”

Spitfire considered the offer, her hoof rubbing the back of her head. On one hoof, she hated the idea of making another pony carry her weight, on the other hoof, this wasn’t just any other pony. It was Rainbow Dash, her marefriend. Further still, she desperately missed flying. It was like an earth pony being unable to walk or a unicorn that couldn’t use their magic. No, perhaps it was even more than that for Spitfire.

She was a Wonderbolt. She loved to fly, no, love wasn’t a strong enough word. Flying to a Wonderbolt, flying to Spitfire, was everything. Zephyr had never understood that.

Rainbow’s offer; a day in the skies, was simply too good to pass up.

“That sound’s like fun to me, Dash.” Spitfire said

“Great!” Rainbow exclaimed, her grin stretching from ear to ear. “Let me just get preened up first and then we’ll get going.”

Spitfire smiled as she observed Rainbow stretch out her left wing and begin the delicate process of preening. Spitfire glanced at her own feathers, in dire need of attention after another nights sleep. Still, as she watched Rainbow pick at her own feathers, meticulously straightening them out and pulling them into place, an idea came to her mind.

For the first time in years, Spitfire felt skittish as a schoolyard filly. Reaching out with a hoof, she very lightly touched the base of Rainbow’s right wing. The action quickly drew the weather manager’s attention.

“Mind if I help?” Spitfire asked, her tone gentile and her smile earnest.

Rainbow’s cheeks flushed red. A pegasi’s wings were the most sensitive parts of their body. Preening was considered one of the most intimate acts two pegasi could do together. It was something done in between immediate family members or couples only. Rainbow remembered when she was little and her pinfeathers had just grown in that her father would sit her in his lap while he preened her wings.

It was perhaps the only time he ever gotten her to hold still and keep quiet.

The question left Rainbow facing a choice she hadn’t thought of before that morning. Just how close did she want to be with Spitfire? Rainbow’s hesitation faded as her eyes met Spitfire’s. She saw the trust, the understanding, and with a simple nod, Rainbow extended her right wing for Spitfire.

A shiver ran through Rainbow as Spitfire began to preen her. Aside from when her father had helped her as a filly, Rainbow had never let another pony touch her wings like that. The good feelings that it gave her were enough to make Rainbow lose focus on the wing she had been preening. Instead she sat there in a half-lidded glassy eyed stare.

Spitfire noticed the effect her ministrations had, and allowed a self-satisfied smile. It was good to know her partner preening skills hadn’t atrophied over the years. Spitfire took her time working over Rainbow’s feathers. She had always found feathers up close to be a fascinating sight. The way the covert feathers overlapped with the pinfeathers, the individual barbs melded together to form the vane itself. To Spitfire, feathers were masterworks of natural artistry, and Rainbow’s in particular were a sight to behold.

Rainbow shivered as Spitfire plucked out a loose feather. She reached out with her left foreleg to the armrest of the couch to steady herself. Spitfire chuckled softly as she spat the feather out.

“You okay?” she asked.

“Mmhmm,” Rainbow nodded, her eyes closed and her cheeks red.

“I’m almost finished with this wing.”

“Kay...”

Spitfire took her time with her work, partially because she wanted to do a good job, and also because she was very much enjoying herself. Some of her favorite times with Zephyr had been when they preened together in the morning before work. So far at least, Spitfire was quite enjoying preening Rainbow as well.

Finishing the right wing, Spitfire gave Rainbow a moment to collect herself. She gently rubbed her hoof over Rainbow’s back, never taking her eyes off the younger mare. Slowly, Rainbow’s gaze met hers again, silent gratitude and more conveyed without so much as a sound. Spitfire simply smiled, understanding perfectly.

With deliberate slowness, Spitfire leaned forward. Rainbow matched the motion, their lips meeting in the middle in a gentle kiss.

“Thank you,” Rainbow whispered as their lips parted.

“Anytime, Dash. Want me to do the other one too?”

“I-if you want to.”

Spitfire kissed Rainbow’s nose. “Switch spots with me so I can get to your wing.”

Rainbow nodded, and after a bit of shuffling, the two mares had switched places on the couch. Spitfire took Rainbow’s wing in her hooves and inspected it with a practiced eye. Setting to work, she worked through Rainbow’s feathers one by one. She savored the satisfied grunts and moans that came with most of her work. Spitfire couldn’t help but feel a little disappointed when she inevitably finished her task.

After a moment to return to her senses, Rainbow turned to face Spitfire, a sheepish smile tugging at her lips. “Want me to do yours?”

Spitfire caught herself blushing. “If you want to.”

Rainbow’s smile grew ever so slightly as she reached out and carefully unfolded Spitfire’s wing. With equal care, she began the fastidious process of preening Spitfire’s wings. Spitfire shivered from the effort and did her best to fight the blush that was spreading over her face.

Spitfire was suddenly very glad she wasn’t a stallion.

Rainbow took her time, making sure every feather was clean and in perfect alignment before she moved to Spitfire’s injured wing. Making sure not to stretch the recovering wing too far, she continued her work with silent dedication. Unbeknownst to her, Spitfire spent the entire time trying her best to control her body. Just before Rainbow finished her work, a hoof began knocking fervently on the suite door. Both Spitfire and Rainbow jumped slightly in surprise before exchanging a confused look.

“Were we expecting somepony?” Rainbow asked.

“Not that I know of,” Spitfire answered. “Give it a minute, maybe they’ve got the wrong door and they’ll go away.”

Rainbow nodded, keeping her mouth shut as they waited. For several long seconds, silence filled the room. Both Rainbow and Spitfire began to hope that whoever it was had decided to move on. Their hopes were dashed as the knocking returned.

With a disappointed sigh, Spitfire got to her hooves. “I’ll be right back, Dash.”

“Kay.”

Trotting to the door, Spitfire put on her best scowl. Unless somepony had died, she didn’t particularly care what the problem was today. Pulling the door open, Spitfire’s planned rant evaporated when she saw the pony on the other side.

“Misty?” she balked, “what are you doing here?”

“We got a problem, boss,” Misty began, pausing when something in the room caught her eye.

“Hey,” Spitfire moved to block Misty’s view, “focus on me, Misty. What’s the problem?”

“Do you have somepony else in there?” Misty asked.

“That’s not your concern, Misty.” Spitfire said.

“Oh my gosh, you do!” Misty squealed, her original mission momentarily forgotten.

“Misty, oof—” Spitfire grunted as the smaller mare pushed past her in a rush, “NO!”

Spitfire’s heart skipped a beat as she righted herself and turned around. She saw Misty standing at the edge of the kitchenette, staring slack jawed into the living room.

“Um... hi there!” Rainbow Dash said with a sheepish wave to Misty.

“You... But... I—” Misty flubbed for the words, her eyes shifting from Rainbow to Spitfire.

“Misty, take it easy... “Spitfire said as she approached the speechless mare. Both Spitfire and Rainbow Dash winced at the impressive thud Misty made as she keeled over in shock.

After a moment of silence, Rainbow looked over to Spitfire.

“Well, that could have gone better.”

Spitfire sighed, rubbing her forehead in exasperation. “Sorry, Rainbow, looks like we’ll have to take a raincheck on that flight.”

“It’s cool,” Rainbow said with a shrug.

“Do me a favor and get her on the couch, I’ll get an ice bag.”

Rainbow saluted. “You got it, boss!”

Teammates

The first thing that Misty became aware of as she came to was just how sore her head was, even with the cold presence of what she assumed was an ice bag. The second thing she noticed was a pair of two distinct voices in conversation. The last thing was that they seemed to be talking about her.

“So, does this normally happen?”

“Only when she get’s really worked up about something or other, and after forgetting to eat breakfast.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, she’s not allowed to do morning events anymore.”

The first voice let out an amused snort.

“I can do morning stuff just fine,” Misty groaned.

“Oh good, you’re awake,” Spitfire said, her attention shifting from Rainbow to Misty. “Have a good nap?”

“Oh, hey boss. I had the weirdest dream that I walked into your hotel and Rainbow Dash was chilling on your couch.” Misty said, bringing a hoof up to touch the ice pack that covered her eyes.

“Was that you being funny, or was that serious?” Spitfire asked, staring blankly at her teammate.

There was a particularly pregnant pause as Misty thought about it. “Apparently it was neither.”

Rainbow and Spitfire scoffed in amusement from the lighthearted joke. Misty propped herself up into a sitting position, pulling the ice pack off her face and depositing it onto the coffee table. She blinked several times to clear the haze from her eyes.

Sitting opposite of her was Spitfire and Rainbow Dash, both relaxed in separate chairs. Rainbow had a cup of coffee held carefully in her hooves. Spitfire’s cup was sitting on the coffee table, emptied of its contents for the moment. Spitfire sat up straighter, ready to lend assistance if Misty needed it.

“Feeling okay?” Spitfire asked.

“I’ll live, I think,” Misty mumbled, “what’d I miss?”

“You walked in, Rainbow said ‘hi’, then you keeled over like a goat and knocked yourself silly,” Spitfire explained with the casualness of describing the weather.

Misty shot Spitfire an irritated glare as a frown pulled at her lips. “Gee, thanks for your concern. I feel so appreciated.”

"Well, in fairness—"

"And that reminds me," Misty interrupted, her voice edging ever closer to shouting, "what the hay is she doing in here?!" Misty demanded as she pointed an accusatory hoof at Rainbow.

"Well, I—"

"I thought the plan was 'leave Rainbow alone so we don't accidentally alienate her', did something change when I wasn't bucking looking?"

Rainbow quirked an eyebrow at the revelation, her eyes shifting from Misty to Spitfire. Spitfire, on the other hoof, rubbed her temple with a hoof as she reminded herself she wasn’t allowed to kill her subordinates. The act tended to be poor PR.

“I met up with Rainbow the day I got out of the hospital, Misty. We’ve been hanging out a lot since then.”

“Soarin’ and Rapid said...” Misty’s eyes widened as the pieces began to snap into place for her. “Oh those lying motherf—”

“Misty Fly!” Spitfire snapped in her command voice.

The mild reprimand seemed enough to snap Misty somewhat out of her anger. Misty bowed her head slightly, her wings slackening so they were pointed to the ground in a traditional pegasus apology. Silence settled between the two Wonderbolts as they gave themselves a moment to calm down.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to get upset.” Misty apologized, her voice having returned to a more conversational level. She looked up, her gaze meeting Rainbow’s. “Rainbow Dash, I’m sorry you had to see that. It was rude and unprofessional.”

“N-no problem,” Rainbow sputtered. She shot Spitfire a nervous glance, knowing the precarious position her marefriend suddenly found herself in.

The tiny glance didn’t go unnoticed by Misty. The canary-coated mare’s eyes narrowed almost imperceptibly. Her attention shifted back to Spitfire, who was giving Misty her undivided attention.

“Spitfire,” Misty began carefully, “we’re friends, right?”

“I like to think so,” Spitfire answered.

“Good. Then, as your friend, would you please tell me if this,” She waved a hoof between Spitfire and Rainbow, “is what it looks like?”

Rainbow opened her mouth to speak, only to be cut off as Spitfire’s wing reached out and brushed her. Spitfire gave Rainbow a warm smile and a look that begged for trust, a trust that Rainbow was perfectly happy to offer.

“Well, Misty, Rainbow and I have been seeing each other since I got out of the hospital.”

Misty’s eyebrows shot up at the revelation as she recoiled very slightly in her seat. Rainbow’s eyes shifted from Misty to Spitfire and back again. The seconds between the three mares seemed to stretch into hours as Spitfire and Rainbow waited for Misty to process the information.

“...When you say ‘seeing each other’, you don’t mean, like... “ Misty tapped her front hooves together as she struggled for the correct words.

Spitfire answered by wrapping a protective wing around Rainbow’s shoulders and pulling the younger mare closer. Misty groaned and placed her head in her hooves. She shook her head in disdain as she mumbled to herself for a moment. When she looked up at them, there wasn’t anger in her expression, instead there was almost a sadness to her.

“Celestia’s sacred ass, Spitfire, what in the world do you think you’re doing?” Misty asked

Rainbow seemed to take more offense from the question. “You know, I’m sitting here too.”

Misty shifted her attention to Rainbow. “And were you the one who asked her out?”

“What difference would that make?” Rainbow challenged, only the light grip of Spitfire’s wing keeping her in her seat.

“That doesn’t matter,” Spitfire insisted.

“It matters a buck of a lot, actually!” Misty snapped, slamming her hoof against the couch cushion. “If Rainbow asked you out, well first off props for showing some guts on that, I mean, we are kinda celebrities and that tends to freak out most ponies. Anyway, if Rainbow asked you out, then —”

“Misty!” Spitfire shouted loud enough to derail the rambling mare’s thoughts. “I asked Rainbow out, okay?”

Misty pressed her head into her hooves as she groaned. “Arcus is gonna lose his mind when he finds out about this.”

“Arcus already knows,” Spitfire informed her.

The revelation made Misty’s jaw drop as she looked up at Spitfire. “No way. No way, if Arcus thought you were doing this he’d—”

“Misty, I’m gonna tell you this because we are friends, and I trust you with my life just like every pony on the team. But you need to promise me that what we say in this hotel room doesn’t get repeated to anypony, okay?”

Misty was quiet for several long moments, her eyes locked to Spitfire’s as she considered her situation. With a sigh and a nod, she finally agreed.

“Arcus cornered me about this back on Monday, and he was none too thrilled by it either. He told me his concerns, told me his, uh, recommendation, and he made some fair points. Rainbow and I have talked about it as well, and we decided on a different course of action.”

“And were you two planning on telling anyone else about this ‘other course’, or were you just gonna wait for us to all stumble headfirst into it?”

Rainbow and Spitfire exchanged a slightly sheepish grin before Spitfire answered.

“We, uh, we hadn’t gotten that far yet.”

“Gee, I hadn’t noticed,” Misty said with a huff as she leaned back.

“Excuse the simple weather manager in the room, but why is this such a big deal? I mean, there aren’t explicit rules for who a Wonderbolt can date, right?” Rainbow asked.

“Technically, no there aren’t,” Spitfire answered, her wing reinforcing its grip on Rainbow.

“The problem, Rainbow,” Misty continued, “is that you are, well, you. The elements of Harmony may not be household names, but all of you do have some reputation and importance.”

Rainbow couldn’t stop her eyes from rolling and the scoff that escaped her. She opened her mouth, intent to argue that they too were normal ponies. Then she remembered Twilight was Celestia’s personal protege, and Pinkie Pie who was... well, Pinkie Pie. Rainbow’s mouth snapped closed without a sound.

“Rainbow and I discussed this,” Spitfire said, “you’re just gonna have to trust us on this one, Misty.”

“I do trust you, Boss, but this is a whole different set of problems that’s just waiting to blow up in your face.”

“Misty, just trust me. Please?”

Misty sighed, her shoulders sagging. “You know you’re gonna need to tell the rest of the team, right?”

“Yeah, yeah I know.”

“The longer you wait, the worse it’s gonna be.”

“I know, Misty.”

Misty held up her hooves, surrendering the argument with an annoyed sigh.

“Anyway,” Spitfire continued, “what brings you by this morning, Misty? Before you keeled over, you said we had a problem of some kind.”

“Hm? Oh, right. Where’s my saddlebag?” Misty asked, looking around for the item in question.

“I got it,” Rainbow said, slipping out of her chair and hooking the back strap with her fetlock. She moved closer to Misty, proffering the bags which Misty quickly accepted.

“Let’s see here,” Misty mumbled as she dug through the left bag, and then the right. “Aha, there it is!”

Reaching into the bag she pulled out a rolled up paper which she tossed onto the coffee table. Spitfire’s anger flared from the paper. It was Red Top’s Manehattan Enquirer. Her anger however, was momentarily forgotten as she got a good look at the cover photograph.

The cover was a full page picture of Soarin’ and Rapidfire. Both stallion’s were facing away from the photographer and appeared to be in conversation. Soarin’s wing was draped lightly over Rapidfire’s back. The headline in bold white letters read ‘LOVE IN THE SKIES?’. A supplementary line under the title read: ‘After years of speculation, are the rumors about Soarin’ finally confirmed?’.

Spitfire’s eyes drifted to the bottom of the page where a second photograph was set. The picture focused on Rapidfire, the familiar blue and gold Wonderbolts uniform in his hoof. Spitfire was standing opposite of him receiving the uniform as they talked. Spitfire recognized the moment quickly enough. Rapid had been returning her uniform to her after getting it cleaned. The caption for that photograph read ‘Rapidfire turns in his uniform to be with Soarin’?’.

It was too much, and as much as Spitfire tried to quell the oncoming outburst, she was but a feather before the might of a hurricane. She tried to hold her breath, she tried to bite her tongue, none of it helped as she fell over in hysterical laughter. Rainbow was having similar problems, as she guffawed loudly from the floor.

Misty did her best to be the adult in the room, though even her concerns had difficulty seeimg relevant given the contagious laughter from Spitfire and Rainbow.

“Guys,” she said as she fought off her own giggles, “come on, it’s not funny. This is—pfft—this is a s-serious problem.”

“T-this is great!” Spitfire managed to exclaim, tears running down her cheeks as she laughed herself senseless.

Rainbow bit down on her foreleg to mute her own laughter.

“C-come on Spitfire,” Misty insisted,slowly regaining her composure. “We gotta do something about this before the story gets away from us.”

“Oh wow, oh my sides!” Spitfire coughed as she gasped for breath, oblivious to Misty’s insistence.

In desperation, Misty turned to Rainbow Dash for help. Unfortunately for Misty, Rainbow was too busy trying to contain her own laughter to be of any use. With an aggravated sigh, Misty sat down and shook her head, waiting for at least one of the two mares to calm down.

After a few minutes, Spitfire and Rainbow managed to get back to their hooves. Wiping the tear streaks from their eyes, they both seemed to refocus on Misty, albeit with occasional bouts of chuckling.

“What are we do about this?” Misty asked.

“Frame it and hang it in the Clousdale office?” Spitfire asked.

“No... okay, that would actually be pretty funny,” Misty admitted after a moment’s thought, “but seriously, what do we do about this?”

“I think we can probably just ignore it. I mean, it’s a bunch of nonsense anyway.” Spitfire said.

“Yeah, but the photographs are gonna make it a lot harder, at least on Soarin’ for a while. I don’t know how Rapid will go with something like this.”

“I’ll talk to him about it,” Spitfire said with a sigh.

“And then there’s one other thing, which is possibly more of an issue,” Misty added, flipping open the tabloid to a page she had dog-eared.

She extended her left wing, using her feathers to point to a picture that made Spitfire’s heart skip a beat. It was a photograph of Spitfire, Soarin’, and Rapid standing outside a cafe, and Rainbow Dash, heavily obscured by Spitfire’s figure, was just barely visible in the picture. The headline next to the photo asked “Who is this mystery mare?”.

“Ho boy,” Spitfire mumbled, running a hoof through her mane. “That could make life interesting.”

“What should we do?” Rainbow asked.

“Not a whole lot we can do, Dash. I suppose for now we just ignore it and see what happens. I’d rather not accidentally throw fuel on the fire if it’ll just get forgotten in a few days.”

Misty nodded in agreement. “What about Soarin’ and Rapid? I don’t know if they’ve even seen this yet.”

Spitfire hummed for a moment. “Well, how about we just fly over and break it to them ourselves. That way we can soften the blow as much as possible.”

“Sounds like a plan to me,” Misty said.

“Can I come?” Rainbow asked. “I mean, I’m not a Wonderbolt yet, but I’d like to help if I can.”

“Of course you can come, Dash.” Spitfire answered with a happy smile.

“We should probably fly, just to save time and avoid attention,” Misty said, “so, who carries you?”

Spitfire gave Misty an evil smile. “Misty, honey, you know I’ve always wanted to ride you.”

“Rainbow, carry your damn marefriend so I don’t ‘accidentally’ drop her from the trade winds.”

“I don’t know,” Rainbow almost purred as she slipped beside Spitfire, “you might enjoy a good ponyride.”

“You both suck.”

“Actually—” Spitfire started.

“NOT A WORD!” Misty shouted.

Spitfire and Rainbow Dash burst into giggles as Misty’s face turned from yellow to red.

A few short minutes later, all three mares were in the skies. Misty and Rainbow flying side by side, while Spitfire held onto Rainbow’s back. For Rainbow, the flight was almost a dream come true. She was, after all, flying with the Wonderbolts! Well, specifically she was carrying her marefriend who happened to be a wonderbolt, but Misty was a full fledged Wonderbolt! She may have been out of uniform, but she was still a healthy, flying Wonderbolt! It took considerable effort for Rainbow to keep a straight face.

For Spitfire, she spent the time thinking of how to best break the topic to Soarin’ and her brother. The humor of the pictures aside, she was actually quite offended at Red Top for slandering both her brother and her best friend. Of all the things in the world that she wouldn’t tolerate, it was anypony harassing her family. For the ponies she loved, Spitfire would face down Celestia herself.

Misty took the lead, mostly since Rainbow didn’t know where either Soarin’ or Rapidfire lived. Soon enough, she lead them to Soarin’s oceanside apartment. The three flew up to his porch, where they found Soarin fast asleep and snoring loudly in his patio chair. A red blanket was draped over him as he slept.

Sitting next to him was the bottle of Blue Label Spitfire had given him, now nearly half gone, and an empty glass. Rainbow and Misty landed on either side of Soarin’, with Spitfire quickly slipping off of Rainbow’s back.

“Soarin’? Oooh Soarin!” Spitfire sang.

“I should’ve brought my camera,” Misty mumbled as she stifled a giggle.

Spitfire put her hoof on Soarin’s shoulder and shook him enough to wake him.

“Eh, wha...” Soarin’ mumbled groggily as his emerald eyes fluttered open. “Boss?”

“Wakey, wakey, Soarin’.” Spitfire said cheerily.

“Go away, it’s too early and I’m off today.” He mumbled as he rolled onto his side.

Spitfire sighed and rolled her eyes. “Okay, time for the hard way.”

Without further explanation, Spitfire pulled Soarin’ out of his chair letting him land on the patio with a loud thud. Soarin’ seemed rather unimpressed with the surprise change in positions, but didn’t attempt to get back to his comfy chair. Instead, he seemed quite intent to be as big a pile of dead weight as he could possibly be, in hopes the unwanted visitors would simply leave.

Spitfire hefted Soarin’ onto her back, grunting heavily from the dead weight. “Would one of you two go and scramble him an egg or something? I’m gonna toss his flank in the shower.”

“Why don’t you go cook him something?” Misty asked, her face turning into a small pout.

“Cause if I cook, then we’re gonna have to fly him to the hospital to get his stomach pumped. And hospitals are no fun unless you’re the one getting the drugs.”

“You all suck,” Soarin’ grumbled from his position, still intent on being as useless as possible.

“Yeah, yeah, that’s nice, Soarin’. Come on, let’s get this over with.” Spitfire said as she trotted inside.

Misty and Rainbow watched her for a moment before Misty looked at Rainbow.

“So, do you know how to cook?”

“Um... kinda?”

“Well, he’s screwed.”

“That sounds about right, yeah.”

Twenty minutes later, a very irritated Soarin’ was sitting at his kitchen table, wholeheartedly staring at a plate of scrambled eggs that seemed to contain as much shell as egg and a slice of bread better described as blackened than toasted.

“Tell me again,” he asked, “how did three mares manage to buck up scrambled eggs and toast?”

“It’s the thought that counts, right?” Misty said with a hopeful smile.

“Not really, no.” He answered.

“Anyway,” Spitfire interrupted, “we came here Soarin’, because there’s a small problem you need to know about.”

“Joy. Of. My. Life.”

Misty pulled out the copy of the Enquirer from her bag and set it beside the plate of so-called food. Soarin’s eyes went wide as he took in the photograph and the headlines. The three mares exchanged a nervous glance as they waited for Soarin’ to react. Just as Spitfire was about to reach out to him, his shoulders began to tremble. For an instant, the mares recoiled fearing the enquirer had taken things too far. Then Soarin’ fell out of his chair, laughing himself senseless.

Spitfire, Rainbow, and Misty all let out a relieved sigh.

“You okay there, buddy?” Spitfire asked.

“That... that’s just too perfect!” Soarin’ said through his laughter.

“Well then, wanna come with us to show Rapid? We can all get some lunch after that, Misty here is owed some explaining for the last couple weeks.” Spitfire said.

“Sure, just—hehe—just give me a minute.”

“Can do,” Spitfire answered with a grin.

After Soarin’ had composed himself, and grabbed his own Saddlebag. The four pegasi set out for Rapid’s apartment. Spitfire again rode on Rainbow’s back the whole way there. The flight took them nearly half an hour at their easy pace. Finally, Spitfire pointed out the modest complex Rapid lived in and had them land outside.

A short trot later, all four found themselves standing in the hall while Spitfire knocked impatiently on the door. Judging by the loud music coming from inside, they were fairly confident that Rapid was home.

“Rapidfire!” Spitfire shouted as she pounded on the unfortunate door. “Open the damn door!”

Finally the door swung open revealing a very irritated Rapidfire. Unfortunately for him, he pulled the door open just as Spitfire went for another hard knock. The end result was Spitfire’s hoof punching Rapid in the mouth, dropping him to the ground like a sack of potatoes.

“AH!” Rapid shouted as he clutched his face “CELESTIA DAMNIT!”

“Oh my goodness I am so sorry! Are you okay?” Spitfire quickly apologized as she helped her brother to his hooves.

Rainbow, Soarin’, and Misty tried not to laugh too noticeably.

“What the hay was that for?” Rapid demanded.

“It was an accident!” Spitfire insisted with a stomp of her hoof, her face red as an apple.

“What do you crazy ponies want, anyway? Cause if you’re here to beat me up, then I think I can find better ways to spend an afternoon.”

Spitfire dug into her saddlebag and held up the paper for Rapid to see. He studied the paper for several long moments before he looked at Soarin’.

“Does this mean we can’t cuddle anymore?”

“Screw. You.”

“Not in front of my sister, Mallow.”

Soarin’ groaned as he lightly headbutted the door frame.

Concerning Rainbooms

Spitfire grunted as her hooves contacted the soft grass, her wings outstretched to help cushion the impact. A mild ache persisted in her right wing where her muscles were healing nicely enough. Spitfire looked at the wing with a small smile.

She had made great progress since she had started seeing Triage regularly. A daily regimen of stretches and exercises had given her full extension of her wing, and nearly three weeks after first injuring herself she was able to glide again without pain. On a good day she could even fly short distances.

Spitfire turned as Rainbow Dash landed beside her, the weather mare flashing the Wonderbolt a giddy smile.

“That was great, Spitfire! You glided at least three-hundred feet!”

“Thanks, Dash,” the Wonderbolt replied with a genuine smile.

“Does your wing still feel okay? Do you need to take a break?”

Spitfire took a second to look at her right wing, flexing it several times and carefully noting any sensation she felt. “I think I have a few good glides left in me, but after that I’ll give it a rest for a couple hours.”

“Sounds like a plan to me,” Rainbow said as she leaned close enough to steal a chaste nuzzle. “Just let me know if anything changes.”

Spitfire returned the nuzzle. “Sure will, Rainbow. Thanks again for flying me all the way out here to practice.”

“Hey, you made it a good chunk of the way by yourself. Besides, what are marefriends for?” Rainbow asked, sheepishly rubbing at the back of her head.

Spitfire chuckled as she leaned over to kiss Rainbow’s cheek. The hill that Rainbow and Spitfire had come to for Spitfire’s gliding therapy was the same hill Rainbow had landed on after the rainboom. It was also the same hill Rainbow had set up their picnic on almost two weeks earlier. It had become their spot when they needed to get away from the noise and crowds of Manehattan, their spot to hide from the responsibilities of the world.

Spitfire could hardly wait until she could fly the whole distance on her own. As nice as it was to hold close to Rainbow, to feel the beat of her heart and the breath in her lungs, Spitfire would always prefer to fly by her own power.

She had managed to glide a decent chunk of the way once she and Rainbow had found a few good thermal updrafts. Spitfire had felt like a filly learning to fly again, but it was worth the awkward sensation to be riding on her own wings again. Rainbow had kept close the whole time, never out of reach just in case anything went wrong.

When Spitfire’s wing did inevitably tire, Rainbow quickly maneuvered under her and allowed Spitfire to ride the rest of the way. After eating the lunches they had packed, Rainbow had helped Spitfire with some wing stretches and then the practice glides had begun.

Spitfire crouched down before she launched herself forward, catching the air in her wings and allowing the wind to carry her as far as possible. Rainbow wasn’t far behind her, catching up with a gentle flap of her wings.

“Hey, Spitfire?”

“Yesss?”

“Got any funny celebrity stories?”

Spitfire hummed for a moment, her hoof rubbing her chin as she thought about it. There were countless locker room stories from her time as a Wonderbolt and even before that when she and Soarin’ were still in the guard. Those stories, while entertaining, fell mostly into the category Spitfire liked to think of as the ‘you had to be there’ stories, and most Wonderbolt stories revolved around various in-jokes that had developed over the years. Spitfire’s thoughts turned to meet and greets after shows, she smiled as she recalled an amusing event.

“Do you know Prince Blueblood?” Spitfire asked.

“I know of him; my friend Rarity met him once, but she just gets mad whenever anypony asks her about it.”

Spitfire chuckled. “That seems to happen around him. Anyway, this was a few years ago, before I was the team captain, and the first time that I had performed at the Grand Galloping Gala. We did our show and then we had to spend the rest of the night doing meet and greets with the fancy ponies in the VIP section.

“I did that for a couple hours, then managed to catch enough of a break to get some food and find a quiet place to take a breather. That’s when Blueblood spotted me. Well, he had a few drinks before that and he was in a very forward mood, so he stumbled over and started putting the moves on me.”

“I bet that was interesting,” Rainbow said with an amused snicker.

Both mares grunted as they landed. The took a moment to turn around before launching themselves in the air again.

“Oh yes it was,” Spitfire answered, her wings giving a light flap to stay aloft. “This was back when Zephyr and I were still dating, and I had been ordered to keep my interest in mares quiet. So when Blueblood started hitting on me I told him I was flattered, but I was already in a relationship.

“Well, he leaned back in a huff and asked where my date was. Before I could answer he was sitting next to me with a hoof around my waist and started trying to woo me with his words. Which is when I noticed he was wearing a horn extension.”

“Wait, what!?” Rainbow balked.

Spitfire nodded, an amused grin on her lips as they landed again. “Yeah, when a unicorn wears one, if you’re close enough, you can see the adhesive along the base.”

“So...” Rainbow put her hoof to her lips to stifle her giggles, “so you’re saying that... that Prince Blueblood has a t-tiny horn?”

Spitfire gave Rainbow a matter of fact nod, holding her front hooves out so that the space between them was somewhat less than three inches.

“That’s terrible,” Rainbow managed to assert as she laughed.

“Protip, Rainbow, if you ever see a unicorn with a horn longer than five or six inches, then they’re wearing a horn extension.”

“So, how’d you get him to leave?”

“Well, he was explaining to me this newspaper he was starting called The Canterlot Daily where he would “personally hoof pick every article to ensure quality” when Soarin’ spotted me and came over. I managed to slip out of his grasp and introduced Soarin’ as my coltfriend. Soarin’ went along with the act, and Blueblood left in a huff.”

Rainbow chuckled as she shook her head. “I’ll have to tell Rarity about that sometime.”

“Oh, I forgot to ask you the other night, how did your meeting with Fleetfoot go?” Rainbow asked.

“She wasn’t home, actually,” Spitfire answered. “Wasted half my damn Wednesday waiting for her, then I find out from Misty that Fleetfoot have been on a camping trip to Neighagra falls for the last week and won’t be back till tomorrow sometime at the earliest.”

“Ahh, well in that case, how about I go with you?” Rainbow asked.

Spitfire hesitated as she thought about it. “You sure? I mean, Fleetfoot’s a pretty cool mare, but when she’s mad she can be kind of a pain in the flank.”

“What would she be mad about anyway? I mean is it just that we’re dating or what?”

Spitfire sighed and dug at the grass with a hoof. “It’s your rainboom, actually.”

“What about it?”

“Well,” Spitfire hummed for a moment as she thought of how best to continue. “Well, Dash, let me put it to you like this: How would you feel about teaching anypony else the Rainboom?”

Rainbow considered the question for a moment before she answered. “Um, well, maybe someday, sure. But not right now, no.”

“Fair enough, but why not now?” Spitfire challenged.

“I... I’m not ready to be a teacher yet.”

“You’re teaching cloud pushers to be lightning wranglers.”

“That’s different, that’s for work!” Rainbow said with stomp of her hoof.

“I know, but these are the kinds of arguments Fleetfoot would bring up, and if you’re gonna get hit with them I’d rather you be prepared.” Spitfire explained, draping her wing over Rainbow’s back. “So, why do you think you’re not ready to teach anypony a rainboom?”

“I,” Rainbow sighed, running a hoof through her mane, “I can’t teach it. Not yet.”

“Why not?” Spitfire asked, her curiosity piqued.

“I can do the rainboom, yeah, but I can’t do a perfect rainboom. The first two were happy accidents, and ever since then I can only do it if conditions are perfect. The slightest turbulence and the barrier snaps back just like it always used to. I’ve got it down so I can do it most of the time, but not all of the time. And to be perfectly honest, when the barrier snaps back it’s really dangerous. If you can’t recover then there’s a really good chance you’re gonna get hurt, and I don’t want anypony’s blood on my hooves.”

“I agree, the sonic barrier is exponentially harder to recover from than a normal wipeout,” Spitfire agreed. “However every Wonderbolt goes through rigorous training in wipeout recovery techniques just for emergencies like that.”

“Spitfire,” Rainbow began, her tone as serious as Spitfire had ever heard, “how many wonderbolts have attempted the rainboom?”

“Every one of us has, at least once since you did it at the Best Young Flyer competition,” she admitted reluctantly.

“And what happened when the barrier snapped back on you?” Rainbow asked.

Spitfire frowned in disappointment. “For the ponies that didn’t complete an aerial recovery, the injuries ranged from cuts and bruises, muscle strains, twisted joints, and in one instance a broken wing.”

“Who broke the wing?” Rainbow asked.

“Wave Chill.” Spitfire answered with a simple shrug.

“Is that why he was out last season?”

“Yup.”

“Dang, sorry to hear that.”

“Eh, he got better.”

“True,” Rainbow gave a quick shake of her head to get back on track, “anyway, the rainboom isn’t easy to do, even for me. When I can do it perfectly every time, then yeah, I’ll teach it, but until then I’m not ready and I don’t want anypony to get hurt because of something I did wrong.”

Spitfire smiled as she leaned over and placed a gentle kiss on Rainbow’s lips. “You’re gonna make a fantastic Wonderbolt someday, Rainbow Dash.”

Rainbow’s cheeks flushed red from the compliment as she grinned from ear to ear.

“So, I can go with you to meet Fleetfoot?”

“We’ll talk to her together, cross my heart and hope to die.”

“Awesome,” Rainbow cheered, “this is gonna be great!”

Spitfire chuckled and slowly stretched her wing again, holding it out to its full extension as long as she could. “Say, Dash, why don’t you take a break. I’ll just do a couple more glides and some cooldown exercises, then I’ll join you.”

“Okay, well, if you need anything though, just say so,” Rainbow said, giving Spitfire a hug before she trotted up to the large oak tree where they had left their bags.

Spitfire smiled, she loved how gullible Rainbow could be sometimes. She watched as Rainbow fished through her saddlebag and pulled out her Daring Do book. Rainbow sat with her back against the tree, the book held in front of her as she settled down to read.

True to her word, Spitfire did continue her glides and cooldown exercises. At least until Rainbow was entranced enough by her book that she wasn’t paying attention to Spitfire. Thats when she set her plan into motion.

Spitfire casually glided behind the nearest large tree she could get to. Peering out, she observed Rainbow, her magenta eyes fixated on the pages in front of her. She was oblivious to the predator that now stalked towards her.

Spitfire kept her body low to the ground, blades of grass tickling at her belly as she advanced. She moved carefully, using whatever tall grasses or shrubs she could as cover until the last possible moment. Slowly she spread her wings, vengeance for her shameful beating in the battle of pillows was so close that Spitfire could almost taste it.

With a lick of her lips, Spitfire leapt at Rainbow in a fierce warcry. Rainbow yelped in surprise as she caught the full brunt of the Wonderbolt-shaped projectile. After an all too brief tussle, Spitfire pressed her lips to Rainbow’s, silencing any question Rainbow had thought of. She noticed the irked glare Rainbow was shooting her, and responded with a playful wink and a smirk.

Rainbow accepted the silent challenge, her forelegs wrapping around Spitfire as she pressed deeper into the kiss. Spitfire let out a soft moan, her guard lowering for a moment; it was all Rainbow needed. Spitfire barely had time to squeal as Rainbow leveraged her strength and rolled them so Spitfire was underneath her.

Her protests were silenced when Rainbow’s tongue infiltrated her mouth. She heard Rainbow giggle as their tongues vied for dominance. Spitfire took stock of her situation: she was pinned on her back with her marefriend running the show. Spitfire also decided that it simply wouldn’t do to be defeated so easily.

She bided her time and enjoyed the kiss until Rainbow seemed to lose her focus on holding Spitfire down. Not that Spitfire blamed her; the heated passion of their kiss was very enjoyable for her as well. Sensing her opportunity, Spitfire let her hoof trace a line down Rainbow’s spine, the delicate action sending a shiver through the younger mare. Her hoof came to rest on Rainbow’s cutie mark, eliciting a surprised gasp from Rainbow.

It was the distraction Spitfire had needed, and in an instant she was back on top. The Wonderbolt soothed the weather manager’s pout with another tender kiss. Her left hoof traced tiny circles over Rainbow’s cutie mark while her right hoof reached up to gingerly stroke Rainbow’s cheek.

In turn, Rainbow’s right hoof slid over Spitfire’s back, their duel forgotten in favor of simpler passions. The kiss broke only long enough so both mares could catch their breath. A filly-like giggle escaped Spitfire, her hoof stroking Rainbow’s mane.

“You know, you’re really cute when you’re blushing,” Spitfire whispered.

“Sh-shut up!” Rainbow said, her cheeks burning fiercely.

“Oh, if you insist,” Spitfire said, her lips planting a gentle kiss on Rainbow’s forehead and a second on the tip of her nose before their lips met again. Spitfire’s hoof teased over Rainbow’s cutie mark again, earning a noticeable groan from the younger mare. Spitfire reluctantly broke their kiss again.

“You okay?”

“Yeah,” Rainbow said, trying to avoid eye contact.

“Rainbow, what is it?” Spitfire asked.

Rainbow bit her bottom lip anxiously, her cheeks managing to achieve what may have been a new shade of red. She motioned to her hip where Spitfire was rubbing her cutie mark.

“Oh, ticklish there?” Spitfire asked, a mischievous grin forming on her lips.

“No, no, it’s... my, erm, well...” Rainbow squirmed uncomfortably. “It’s a um... you know...”

Spitfire’s face scrunched in confusion for a minute before the realization hit her like a ton of bricks. “Oh. Oh! Um, I’m sorry, I didn’t—”

“It’s okay, really,” Rainbow assured her.

“I won’t do that again, Rainbow. Sorry, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”

Rainbow was quiet for a long moment before she spoke, her body shivering under Spitfire’s warmth.

“You could, if you wanted to...” she whispered.

Spitfire’s hoof gently caressed its way over Rainbow’s shoulder, moving to her chest where it traced a delicate line down until it came to rest on her midriff. Rainbow’s jaw trembled anxiously, her cheeks flushed crimson as Spitfire’s eyes remained locked with hers.

“Rainbow?”

“Yeah?” Rainbow said breathily.

“Are you... are you sure you want this?”

“Y-yeah,”

Spitfire gulped, her heart fluttering in her chest. Her hoof drifted lower. “Tell me to stop, and I’ll stop.”

Rainbow nodded, her body quaking like a leaf in the breeze. Spitfire leaned down, their lips meeting in another heated kiss.

Fleetfoot

It wasn't terribly often that Fleetfoot willingly decided to spend an entire day either in bed or on the couch. Then again, it wasn't terribly often that she was sore enough to need the day off in the first place. It didn’t help she wasn’t particularly a fan of slowing down either.

Gritting her teeth and suppressing a groan, Fleetfoot reached behind her head to adjust the ice pack on her neck. She winced from the simple motion, her aching muscles making any action exponentially more challenging than it had any right to be. She sighed wearily once she got the ice pack into a better spot.

Fleetfoot stared vacantly at her ceiling for a while, her mind on her latest failed attempt at the sonic rainboom. The rainboom was, coincidentally, also the cause of her current discomfort. Or at least the week of failed training she had done during her trip to Neighagra Falls was the cause.

“What am I doing wrong?” Fleetfoot moaned to her ceiling. “I mean, seriously, what the heck am I missing here?”

With a grunt, Fleetfoot rubbed her eyes with a hoof. “Spend a whole week training, and what do I get to show for it? A sore neck and a bunch of bruises! Well la-de-da to that mess!”

Fleetfoot blew a wayward strand of mane out of her eyes and resumed her staring contest with her apartment ceiling.

“What is it?” she asked again. “What’s the trick I’m missing?”

Fleetfoot sucked in a deep breath and quickly huffed it back out. Her eyes drifted to a beat up old teddy bear sitting on the couch beside her, it’s brown fur matted and dirty from years of wear and tear, the once lustrous black beads that made up its eyes now dull and greyed.

Around its neck was a checkered ribbon that was frayed along the edges. The loosest or most unruly fibers had been trimmed back over the years, leaving a relatively even edge to the ribbon. At one point it had had a knitted blue and gold Wonderbolt’s uniform, but that had been misplaced years earlier.

Most ponies would have thrown the ragged looking toy away years ago. The teddy bear was, after all, a toy for a little filly. Fleetfoot, however, wouldn’t part with that bear for all the bits in Equestria.

The teddy bear had been a gift from her grandmother when Fleetfoot was very young. It had many names bestowed on it over the years: Winnie, Fuzzy, Tecumseh, Krang – Lord of the southern couch cushion, and a few others. Fleetfoot had a habit of changing his name whenever she got bored with the old one. Most of the time the bear didn’t have a name, because it didn’t need one for Fleetfoot.

Fleetfoot’s gaze lingered on the old teddy bear for a while, her mind drifting to memories of her youth in Cloudsdale visiting her grandparent’s home. She remembered waking to the sound of her grandmother’s coffee pot and, with her faithful teddy held in her wing, Fleetfoot would trot into the kitchen where her Grandma would pour two cups of coffee.

Fleetfoot’s cup was always the same: a simple porcelain mug with the Wonderbolts logo emblazoned on the side. Her grandmother favored a small porcelain cup with a simple floral design. Fleetfoot distinctly remembered that the handle of the cup had been formed into the shape of two interlocked hearts.

Her grandma would always retrieve a jar of honey she kept in one of the cabinets along with the milk from her refrigerator. She would watch with a quiet smile as Fleetfoot filled her coffee with enough milk and honey to drive away the bitterness. When she was ready, Fleetfoot would take her cup and turn to her grandma, the old mare would smile and gently usher Fleetfoot out to the porch with her wing.

Together they would sit on a cloud bench and watch the sun rise over Equestria. Sometimes they would talk; Fleetfoot would ask her grandma about the old days or what she used to do before she retired. In turn her grandma would ask Fleetfoot about her dreams, her schooling, and her friends. Even back then, Fleetfoot knew she wanted to be a Wonderbolt.

Frowning, she reached out and wrapped her foreleg around the teddy bear. She held it above her and stared at it for a while. She had achieved her dream far earlier in her life than she ever thought possible, however that lead to an unforeseeable consequence. Fleetfoot now felt stagnant in her life, and that was something she simply couldn’t tolerate for long.

The routines of being a Wonderbolt had lost their charm over the years, much like her interest in the standard tricks they performed for the endless masses. Similarly, meeting celebrities, politicians, and the nobles had grown just as old. Nobility in particular had earned Fleetfoot’s immediate distaste.

For a while, Fleetfoot had drifted through the days, unsure of the next goal in her life. She certainly didn’t want to retire and start a family, at least not anytime soon, and she certainly didn’t want Spitfire’s job. She didn’t have the right disposition for command, and she was the first to admit it.

Then a routine Best Young Flyers Competition became anything but routine when a young weather manager from a backwater town achieved a sonic rainboom. Not only had this filly achieved the impossible, but also she had done it while successfully rescuing three Wonderbolts and a civilian from a deadly free fall.

Fleetfoot decided then and there, if a no-name filly from Ponyville could do a sonic rainboom, so could she. It was the goal she had been searching for since she became a Wonderbolt, it was the only challenge left for a mare like her. Fleetfoot sighed and hugged the teddy bear to her chest.

For what seemed like the hundredth time, she replayed her latest rainboom attempt in her mind. After days of practice runs she thought she had finally figured out the trick. She could have sworn she felt the barrier starting to give, at least until it snapped back on her and sent her careening into the river.

The other Wonderbolts had long since given up on their own attempts to recreate the rainboom. Fleetfoot understood why, especially after Wave Chill broke his wing. Still, the risks were worth the reward in Fleetfoot’s mind.

Closing her eyes, Fleetfoot gave the teddy bear a weary nuzzle. “I just… I just wish I knew what I was missing.”

Fleetfoot was startled from her reverie by a firm knock on her apartment door. Twisting her neck, she stared incredulously at the door. She didn’t recall inviting anypony over, and she certainly wasn’t expecting a delivery, so Fleetfoot shook her head and relaxed, intent to ignore the unknown caller.

The pony on the other side of the door didn’t get that memo, much to Fleetfoot’s annoyance as they kept knocking.

“Fleetfoot, you home?” a familiar voice called from the hall.

Fleetfoot’s ears perked up at the sound. With some difficulty, she managed to pull herself up to a sitting position and face the door again.

“Spitfire? That you?” she asked loud enough to be heard in the hall.

“No, it’s your mother,” Spitfire shot back.

Fleetfoot could almost hear the Captain’s eyes rolling. Setting her teddy bear back on the couch, she groaned as she slipped off the couch and back to her hooves.

“I’m coming, I’m coming, don’t get your feathers in a twist,”

“No promises.”

Fleetfoot snorted in amusement as she moved to the door. Halfway there she paused for a light stretch the act yielded a bit of relief from the persistent ache. With a satisfied sigh, Fleetfoot walked up to the door and pulled it open.

Spitfire smiled as the door opened. “Heya, Fleet, how’s it going?”

“Eh,” Fleetfoot shrugged, too sore to offer the normal platitudes. “How about you?”

“It’s been pretty good, actually.” Spitfire answered.

“Well, that makes one of us, how’s the wing? Can you fly yet or do you know when you’ll be back?”

“It’s pretty good,” Spitfire answered, her right wing flexing a little bit. “I flew here actually, it’s not so bad as long as I don’t push too hard.”

“That’s great, boss!” Fleetfoot exclaimed, genuinely happy for Spitfire. She couldn’t imagine what it was like to be grounded for more than a few hours. “So, uh, what-what brings you by today?”

Spitfire’s casual smile faded slightly from the question. “Well, Fleet, there was, um, something I wanted to talk to you about.”

Fleetfoot rubbed her chin as she considered what Spitfire could want to talk about. “Is this about the rainboom thing that Soarin’ asked me to work on? Cause I’ve got a few ideas, I just haven’t really had the time to—”

“Fleet, hey, easy girl,” Spitfire interrupted her, “it’s not really about that.”

“Oh, uh, okay. So, what’s up?” Fleetfoot asked, feeling more confused than before.

“Well, Fleetfoot, um… “ Spitfire pawed anxiously at the carpet in the hall. “Okay, look there’s no easy way to say this—“

“You’re not about to confess a secret crush on me, are you? Cause while I’m flattered, I don’t swing that way, Boss,” Fleetfoot said with a smirk.

“Oh, ha-ha-ha smartass,” Spitfire said with a roll of her eyes. “It is about Rainbow Dash though.”

“Really?” Fleetfoot’s eyes lit up, excitedly. For the briefest of moments she dared to believe the rainboom was finally within reach.

Spitfire looked to her left and motioned for someone to come over. Fleetfoot furrowed her eyebrows together in confusion, her head tilting ever so slightly to the left. Her questions were answered as a sky-blue mare with a familiar rainbow mane rounded the corner.

“Hi,” Rainbow Dash said, a sheepish smile on her lips.

“Are… are you here to teach us the rainboom?” Fleetfoot asked hopefully.

“Um, no?” Rainbow answered, her eyes shifting from Spitfire to Fleetfoot, and back again.

“… What do you mean ‘no’? I mean what else would bring you around with The Boss?”

“Fleetfoot, Rainbow and I have been dating f—“

“You what?!” Fleetfoot shouted as she recoiled from Spitfire and Rainbow, her wings flaring from the shock of the news.

“Fleetfoot—“

“Oh, no-no-no, don’t you ‘Fleetfoot’ me like this is some tiny damn deal! I mean, seriously Spitfire, what in the name of Celestia’s great flaming ass is wrong with you?”

“You check your tone, Sergeant!” Spitfire barked, her wings slowly spreading as her ire grew.

“Sorry ma’am, but you were relieved of duty when you messed your wing up, so I think this once I’ll speak my damn mind!” Fleetfoot shouted. “I mean, you wanna bump uglies with another mare, fine, have fun. But you can’t shack up with her!” Fleetfoot shouted, pointing a hoof at Rainbow.

“Fleetfoot, I’m warning you,” Spitfire growled.

“Seriously boss, what do you think you’re doing? For that matter, what in the world do you think you’re doing?!” Fleetfoot asked Rainbow.

“Wait, me? What did I do?” Rainbow asked, her own wings flaring out defensively.

“You didn’t use your brain, that’s for sure!” Fleetfoot said with a stomp of her hoof. “I mean really, how do you two see this ending?”

“Well, oh soothsayer, since you clearly seem to know why don’t you enlighten us!” Spitfire challenged, her lips curled into a snarl.

“If Arcus doesn’t fire you, and the media doesn’t rip you apart, what do you think Celestia’s gonna do when she finds out you’re playing tonsil hockey with an Element of Harmony? I mean, she’s gonna think we’re taking advantage of her and put us all out of a job for complicity!” Fleetfoot turned to Rainbow Dash. “And as for you! What kind of moron sleeps with the manager of the job you wanna get hired in?! I mean, did you stop for one second to think about how bad this looks?”

“Who says we’re sleeping together?” Rainbow shouted, her cheeks burning crimson. Not for the first time in her life, she was very glad she wasn’t Applejack.

“I don’t give a damn if you are or you aren’t, but the media will talk! Then you’re the floozy who’s sleeping her way to the top!”

A deafening silence settled between the three mares as Fleetfoot’s words sank in. A slow building horror grew in Fleetfoot’s gut as she realized what she just said. Spitfire’s face contorted in fury, her right eye twitching in a way Fleetfoot had never seen before. Rainbow’s face fell into a mask of neutrality, cold fury dancing in her eyes.

“You know how they say you should never meet your heroes? Now I know why.” Rainbow spat.

Rainbow glared at Fleetfoot a moment longer, her eyes full of hurt and anger, then she turned and galloped down the hall. After a moment, she disappeared around the corner leaving Spitfire alone with Fleetfoot. Spitfire watched her as she left, waiting until she was sure that Rainbow was out of earshot. The next thing Fleetfoot realized, the back of Spitfire’s hoof struck her in the jaw, sending her reeling backward.

Spitfire followed Fleetfoot into her apartment, kicking the door closed behind her. Before Fleetfoot could recover, an even stronger blow sent her stumbling into her coffee table. Fleetfoot crumpled to the floor, instinctively curling herself into a defensive posture. Spitfire circled her like a hungry predator.

“Get. Up,” she ordered.

“I’m sorry!” Fleetfoot mewled, “I’m sorry!”

“On your hooves, Sergeant!” Spitfire shouted.

Slowly, Fleetfoot forced herself up into a sitting position. Her cheek burned and she could taste blood in her mouth. Her ears folded back and she didn’t dare look Spitfire in the eye.

“Look at me,” Spitfire commanded.

Fleetfoot winced, her eyes remaining focused on the floor.

“Look. At. Me!” Spitfire commanded again.

This time, Fleetfoot looked up, her eyes meeting with Spitfire's.

Spitfire forced herself to take a calming breath before she spoke. “Here’s what’s gonna happen next, Fleetfoot. You are going to stay here until you’ve calmed down. Then in a day or two you’re going to beg Rainbow for her forgiveness, and if you’re lucky she will forgive you. And then, if you are very lucky, I might forgive you too. Are we clear?”

“Yes, ma’am.” Fleetfoot whispered.

“Speak up!” Spitfire ordered.

“Yes ma’am!” Fleetfoot shouted.

“Good,” Spitfire said turning to leave, “put some ice on your face. We’ll talk about this later.”

Fleetfoot kept her mouth shut, flinching when the door slammed shut behind Spitfire. She let out a trembling breath as she climbed back onto the couch. She pulled her teddy bear up against her chest and curled up against the cool cushions. She whimpered quietly, wishing she could go back in time just a few minutes.

Outside, Spitfire leaned heavily against the wall, her trembling hoof covering her mouth. The meeting had gone worse than she had ever imagined it would, and Rainbow had run off in a rage. Furthermore, she had attacked Fleetfoot in a blind rage, just like Arcus predicted.

Part of her felt justified, after all, Fleetfoot had crossed more than a few lines. Yet still, harsh words alone didn’t merit physical assault. For that she had lost whatever high ground she had before. She made a note to apologize to Fleetfoot, at least when she was calm enough to speak to Fleetfoot without seeing red.

Shaking her head to clear the thoughts, Spitfire quickly exited the apartment and looked around for Rainbow. Not seeing her anywhere, Spitfire felt her heart sink. Not knowing what else to do, Spitfire leapt into the sky and glided back to her hotel.

She managed to stay aloft for the majority of the distance, though a slow building ache in her wing forced her to land a block early. Spitfire allowed a small smile, little by little she was getting better. She looked forward to flying with Rainbow instead of being carried by her.

Trotting up to her hotel room, Spitfire fumbled with her key for a moment before she pushed open the door. Entering the suite, she could hear the quiet sniffles of an unseen pony. Spitfire quickly closed the door and moved further into the suite.

“Rainbow?” she called, “Rainbow, is that you?”

“Yeah, yeah I’m here,” Rainbow answered, her voice echoing out of the bedroom.

Trotting over, Spitfire found Rainbow sitting on the bed, her saddlebag sitting beside her and her cheeks streaked from recent tears. Spitfire’s heart ached from the sight and a frown pulling at her lips. With a deliberate slowness, Spitfire climbed onto the bed and sat beside Rainbow. Her wing gently wrapped around the younger mare’s shoulders. For a while, they simply sat together in silence, each reflecting over the days events.

“I’m sorry,” Spitfire apologized, her voice quiet.

“It’s not your fault,” Rainbow said.

Spitfire scoffed a bit. “Yeah, it really is, but thanks anyway.”

“Spitfire?”

“Yeah, Rainbow?”

“Is… is being a rainboom teacher all I’m gonna be to the Wonderbolts? Is that all there is to me?”

“Not at all, why would you think that?” Spitfire asked.

“What Fleetfoot said, about me being with you to teach the rainboom.”

“Fleetfoot doesn’t know what she’s talking about, Dash,” Spitfire insisted.

Rainbow shrugged, her sadness plain on her face as she stared down at the floor. Spitfire slowly reached over and cupped Rainbow’s cheek in her hoof. Once the weather manager was looking her in the eye, Spitfire spoke.

“Rainbow, let me tell you a story. After the Best Young Flyers Competition, everypony on the Wonderbolts tried to do a rainboom, and I mean everypony: the active squad, the inactive squad, and even the support staff. Everypony gave it at least a try or two, including me.

“But none of us could ever get close, Rainbow. No matter how hard we tried or how much we practiced, we just couldn’t do it. And when we realized that, it was a really bitter pill for a lot of us to swallow. You may have noticed, but we can be a pretty egotistical group.”

The comment earned the smallest of smirks from Rainbow.

Spitfire’s foreleg hooked around Rainbow’s waist and pulled her close. “We did talk about getting you to train us, that is true. But those plans never really went anywhere. And you wanna know a secret?”

Spitfire waited until she saw Rainbow nod affirmatively.

“After you took me through that rainboom,” Spitfire’s words trailed off as she momentarily lost herself in the memory of that experience. “I realized that you, Rainbow Dash, are unique. Your acceleration is way higher than Fleetfoot’s, your top speed obliterates Soarin’s, and I wouldn’t be surprised if you could outlast Rapid in distance flying. Simply put Rainbow: I don’t think there’s a pegasus alive today that can do the rainboom. There’s just you.”

Rainbow’s jaw trembled as she tried to keep control of her emotions. Spitfire noticed the tears welling in her eyes and quickly pulled her into a tight hug.

“You’re gonna be a phenomenal Wonderbolt one day, Rainbow, and I swear I’ll be there to help you every step of the way.” Spitfire pressed her lips to Rainbow’s forehead. She felt a shudder go through the younger mare as she held her close.

“Can… can I tell you a secret?” Rainbow asked.

“Always,” Spitfire answered.

“When I was growing up I was always afraid of getting into serious relationships. I mean, I had a bunch of ponies I hung out with, but the only one I ever really got close to was my friend Fluttershy. And… and I never knew quite why until a couple years ago when Nightmare Moon returned. That’s when I found out I was the bearer of Loyalty.”

Spitfire nodded, her hoof gently rubbing Rainbow’s back as she listened.

“I’m not smart like Twilight,” Rainbow continued, “I don’t know if we are our elements or if we’re just compatible with them, or whatever. I just know that whenever I let someone get close, I can’t just walk away from them. Like, there was that griffon I was friends with when I was a filly, Gilda.

“She and I got real close and even when I saw the bad things she did I stuck with her, because she was my friend and that’s what friends do. Then she came to Ponyville a couple years ago and started going after my other friends, trying to push them away. I had to tell her off and cut ties, you know? And to this day, even though I know I did the right thing, it still hurts.” Rainbow explained, her hoof rubbing her chest.

Spitfire nodded again, her forelegs holding Rainbow closer still.

“I guess that’s part of the reason I didn’t tell my friends back home that I’m a fillyfooler either. I mean, I’m just afraid of what they might think of me then, and I don’t wanna lose their friendship, not over that. Not over anything.

“And now I’m here, and we’re in this, and I don’t wanna hurt the Wonderbolts. I mean I just… just…” Rainbow groaned and buried her head into Spitfire’s chest. “I’m getting all these feelings, and… and I’m so scared of what’s gonna happen if this doesn’t work out.”

Rainbow exhaled a shaky breath, a fresh round of tears streaking down her cheeks. “I… I think I’m falling in love with you, Spitfire. And… and it scares me. It scares me so bad that I want to fly to the ends of the earth and hide from it. I just… I just don’t know what to do.”

Spitfire felt her heart fluttering wildly in her chest. Gently reaching under Rainbow’s chin, she lifted the weather manager’s head so their eyes could meet again.

“I… I don’t know what to say, Rainbow. I don’t know how this ends, or how either of us will act if it does. But I don’t want this to end either. I want there to be an us tomorrow, and the next day, and the next week, and the next month, and the month after that. Because… because I think I’m falling in love with you too.” Spitfire admitted, her own eyes fogging up with tears.

Rainbow Dash let out a soft laugh, rubbing her eyes on her fetlock. Spitfire smiled warmly when Rainbow’s eyes again met hers. Together they leaned forward, their lips meeting in a kiss full of passion, warmth, and love.

Skyfall

Rainbow Dash awoke with a yawn, dimly aware of Spitfire’s hooves wrapped loosely around her waist. Glancing at the clock sitting on the nightstand, she couldn’t help but frown. Six-thirty in the morning was too early to get out of bed. Unfortunately for Rainbow, the weather team wouldn’t manage itself, and she needed to supervise the new lightning wranglers for their first time working with a live storm engine.

Rainbow sighed and gave the clock a death glare. No matter how much she wanted to sleep in, there was work to be done, and it wasn’t likely to take care of itself. Unless, of course, the storm shipment from the weather factory was late again, in that case everypony on the weather team got a surprise day off.

Rainbow was surprisingly good with that idea.

Sighing again, Rainbow rubbed the sleep from her eyes as she built up the willpower to get out of bed. It proved to be no easy task, especially given the hooves wrapped around her waist. Resigning herself to her duty, Rainbow did her best to try and wiggle out of Spitfire’s grip without waking her. She was unsuccessful in that particular endeavor.

Spitfire’s grip tightened around Rainbow as she snuggled into Dash’s mane.

“Mm, five more minutes,” she mumbled in a half-sleeping daze.

A soft giggle escaped Rainbow’s lips. “Come on Spitfire, I gotta get ready for work.”

“It can wait five more minutes.”

Rainbow scoffed and rolled her eyes, still she couldn’t help but smile. “Not on a storm day, it can’t.”

Spitfire grumbled something incoherent and gave Rainbow a gentle squeeze before releasing her.

Rainbow let out a big yawn as she sat up and stretched her wings, savoring the pleasant ache that accompanied the act.

“Mind if I hop in the shower?” She asked as she crawled out of the bed.

Spitfire’s answer was momentarily stalled by a yawn of her own. “Help yourself.”

“Thanks, I’ll be out in a minute.” Rainbow said as she made her way to the bathroom.

Spitfire yawned again and lifted her head from the pillows just enough to get a look at the clock. Groaning at the time, she fought back the urge to bury her head in the pillows and sleep in. She was letting herself get far too soft in her off time, which meant when she inevitably got back to duty it would be a royal kick in the flank.

With some effort (and about ten or fifteen minutes of procrastination) Spitfire got up and began the arduous march to the kitchen. Her objective was a very simple two-step plan. Step one: make a pot of coffee, step two: drink the pot of coffee.

What could possibly go wrong?

Spitfire hesitated for a moment by the bathroom door. Aside from the telltale sound of the shower, she could hear Rainbow quietly singing to herself. A wide grin broke out of Spitfire’s face.

“Sing it, girlfriend!” She called, laughing when she heard Rainbow let out a startled curse.

“Shut up!” Rainbow called, her voice almost squeaking.

Spitfire laughed again and continued to the kitchen. Much as she would have loved to see the look on Rainbow’s face, she wasn’t about to sneak into another pony’s shower. At least, not without getting invited first. Experience taught her that entering a shower uninvited was less of a romantic moment and more of a good way to get smacked.

She never would have guessed that Zephyr could have hit that hard.

Spitfire hummed as she put a fresh coffee filter into the pot and added enough grounds for a strong, Royal Guard style brew. She remembered how Soarin’ noted that the coffee in the Guard was purposely made to taste like a punch in the mouth. Spitfire also fondly recalled calling herself more of a stallion than Soarin’ was since she loved Guard style coffee and he could hardly stand the smell.

Filling the back of the pot with water, Spitfire started the brew and trotted over to the radio. She liked having something to listen to before she got her day rolling. Flipping it on, she moved to the sink to wash the previous morning’s coffee cup as the stallion on the radio talked.

“…. And that’s today’s weather schedule. Just as a reminder to all our listeners, tune in Friday for our interview with Sylvester Stallione, whose role as Roscherk Krovyu in the hit radio drama From Stalliongrad With Love is all the rage these days. Sly will be answering questions mailed in by you the listeners and talking candidly about his character’s arc, acting, and perhaps even a few fun stories from behind the scenes.

“That’s all for now, we’ll be back after a few songs for the morning’s news report. Talk to you soon, Manehattan.”

The host’s voice disappeared as an acoustic guitar strummed several times, the singer beginning his verse in earnest. Spitfire hummed along with the melody, having heard the song before, and liking it well enough.

“Finally I figured out
But it took a long, long time
Now there's a turnabout
Maybe 'cause I'm trying”

Spitfire began swaying in time with the song, her smile growing ever wider as the music flooded her with energy.

“There's been times, I'm so confused
All my roads, well they lead to you
I just can't turn and walk away”

Rainbow emerged from the bathroom, her mane and coat still damp from the shower. Spitfire wasted no time in catching Rainbow in her grasp and pulling her along in an impromptu dance.

“It's hard to say what it is I see in you
Wonder if I'll always be with you
But words can't say, And I can't do
Enough to prove,
It's all for you”

Rainbow couldn’t help but laugh as she danced with Spitfire. “Somepony’s in a mood all of the sudden.”

“Hey, I got a good night's sleep with my favorite mare in the world, and now I get to dance with her in the kitchen. I can’t think of a nicer way to start the day.”

Rainbow giggled. “How about like this?” she asked before pressing her lips to Spitfire’s in a passionate kiss.

Spitfire made a happy moan, perfectly happy to let Rainbow’s tongue slip into her mouth. Perhaps it was the endorphins flooding her brain, the music induced energy flowing through her muscles, or just random happenstance, but the aftertaste of Rainbow’s minty toothpaste made Spitfire giggle like a filly.

“Rain comes pouring down
Falling from blue skies
Words without a sound
Coming from your eyes”

“That’d do the trick too,” Spitfire noted when their lips inevitably parted.

Rainbow chuckled and gave Spitfire a second, though brief, kiss. “This song’s gonna be stuck in my head all day now.”

“Oh, I’m sure we can think of worse songs,” Spitfire mused.

“Let's not and say we did,” Rainbow said, smiling as she slipped past Spitfire and made her way to the fridge. “Can I have one of these apples?”

“Have as many as you like, Dash,” Spitfire answered as she poured herself a cup of coffee. “You want some of this?”

“Nah, I’m good, thanks though!” Rainbow said, trotting over to sit beside Spitfire as she bit into the apple.

“So, Dash, what are you up to today?”

“The weather team has to set up the city-wide storm, but as soon as that’s done I’ve got nothing to do,” Rainbow answered between bites of her apple.

“You guys can just leave it on its own? I mean, don’t you have to keep an eye on it incase anything goes wrong?” Spitfire asked, genuinely curious about the details of weather work.

“Well first what we do is hook up a thunderhead to a bunch of rainclouds. Those clouds form a storm engine. Put a few of those together, and we build a storm system. Once it’s ready, all we’re there for is to make sure the startup goes smoothly. After that the storm is self-sustaining and it rains itself out in a few hours. Something to do with the way the thunderheads interact with the rain clouds. My dad could tell you all the boring details way better than I could, to be honest.”

“About how long does that take to set up?” Spitfire asked, scooting closer to Rainbow.

“That’s gonna depend on the trainees,” Rainbow said with a weary sigh. “If I’ve done my job right, then it shouldn’t take more than a couple hours to set up the storm. If I didn’t, then it’s gonna be a long, sucky, day.”

Spitfire wrapped a foreleg around Rainbow’s shoulders and pulled her into a sidelong hug. “I’m sure you did a great job, Rainbow.”

“I hope so,” Rainbow said, staring at her apple core.

“Hey, come on,” Spitfire gave Rainbow a gentle nudge. “You’re gonna have a great day, and when you’re done head on back here and we’ll make it a great night.”

Rainbow snorted in amusement and gently kissed Spitfire’s cheek. “Well then, I guess I better get to work.”

Spitfire smiled and nuzzled Rainbow tenderly. “I’ll be here.”

“Well then,” Rainbow began as she stood up and stretched out her back, “I’d better get to work.”

Spitfire wrapped her hooves around Rainbow’s waist and pulled the weather manager into her lap. “Not so fast there, missy.”

“Whaaat?” Rainbow whined as she squirmed like a filly.

“You are not leaving this room till you’ve been preened, young lady,” Spitfire said with a sagely nod.

“You’re only, like, four years older than me!”

“Oh shush and spread your wings.”

“I will have revenge,” Rainbow promised, even as she did as requested.

“Sounds like fun,” Spitfire shot back, smiling as she got to work.

Rainbow really wanted to hit Spitfire with a witty reply, however she couldn’t seem to think of one while Spitfire expertly preened her wings. With a soft moan of pleasure Rainbow surrendered herself for the time being. All too soon, it was over, and Spitfire released Rainbow from her grasp.

“Preened up and good to go,” Spitfire said with a proud smile.

Rainbow turned and gave her marefriend a tight hug. “I’ll be back in a few hours.”

“Sounds like a plan to me.”

Rainbow pulled back slightly, not entirely willing to fully let go of the embrace. Spitfire spotted the subtle frown on her lips.

“What’s up, Dash?” she asked, a hoof brushing Rainbow’s cheek.

“I was just thinking, about what we talked about yesterday.”

“Yeah?”

“I… I uh…” Rainbow sighed and pressed her hoof to her head. “Damn it, why is this so hard?”

Spitfire smiled and cupped Rainbow’s cheeks in her hooves. “You don’t need to say anything, Rainbow. What’s important is what’s in here,” Spitfire pressed her right hoof against Rainbow’s chest, “and here,” she placed her hoof over her own heart.

“The words will come in their own time, Dash, and don’t you worry about those for a second.”

Rainbow managed a nod, pulling Spitfire into a tight hug that the Wonderbolt eagerly returned.

“I’ll be back soon.” Rainbow promised.

“I’ll be here.” Spitfire answered.

Almost reluctantly, the two pulled apart from their embrace. Rainbow had to force herself to turn to the window and leap into the waiting skies. Spitfire felt her posture sink as Rainbow left. She hated being alone.

Rainbow flew as fast as her wings would carry her towards the weather office. A thousand thoughts ran through her mind. Thoughts of work were superseded by her relationship with Spitfire. Rainbow knew how she felt in her heart, but part of her was terrified to give voice to those feelings.

Still, every time she thought about her and Spitfire she got butterflies in her stomach. She felt strange when they weren’t together, she felt good when they were. So why, she wondered, was it so hard to say three simple words?

Rubbing her face with a hoof, Rainbow struggled to push those thoughts from her head, at least for the moment. She had a job to do, and she needed to focus on it in order to get everything done to her own high standards. With renewed effort, Rainbow flew to the weather office so she could get the city’s water distribution chart. It wouldn’t do for her first major storm to place the clouds wrong.

Arriving at the weather office, Rainbow was immediately surprised to see Headwind already there. More concerning though was the wide-eyed panic on his face as he tore through the papers in search of something. Rainbow quickly flew over to him and firmly gripped his shoulder. Headwind jumped in surprise from the touch.

“Whoa, easy there, Headwind. What’s the fuss about?” she asked.

“We got a problem, ma’am! Big, big problem!”

“Headwind, take a breath, calm down, and tell me what’s wrong,” Rainbow said as calmly as she could manage.

“Just, just follow me!” he said as he took a running dive out of the window and flew towards the staging area.

Rainbow cursed under her breath as she chased after him. Leaping back into the sky, she spread her wings. The wind and thermals caught in her feathers held her aloft. Even though Headwind had a sizeable lead on her, it was foals play for Rainbow to close the distance in a few strong wing beats.

“Headwind, what the heck is the matter?” Rainbow demanded.

“The shipment got messed up!” he shouted over the wind, “we got mostly thunderheads and very few rain clouds.”

“What?” Rainbow balked.

“We got all fifteen tanker clouds just like we ordered, and the lightning wranglers took three that were labeled thunderheads, and the rain team just started unpacking the rest assuming they were rain clouds.”

“Oh no, is anypony hurt?” Rainbow asked, her heart starting to race.

“At least a dozen rain ponies got zapped pretty good, Dewdrop got the worst of it. They should all be at the hospital by now.” Headwind said, a grim look on his face.

“What’s the damage?”

“Mostly electrical burns, though Dewdrop damn near fell out of the sky she got shocked so bad.”

Rainbow cursed and gritted her teeth in frustration. “How the buck did this happen?”

“I think it’s my fault, ma’am,” Headwind said.

“How do you figure that?” Rainbow asked.

“The weather factory doesn’t make mistakes like this, and I’m the one who filled out the order. So it stands to reason I bucked up the paperwork and didn’t notice.”

“Headwind—“

“If that’s the case, then you’ll have my resignation as soon as we’ve fixed this mess,” he promised.

“We’ll talk about that later,” Rainbow growled, “how many lightning wranglers are on the scene?”

“Maybe a dozen when I left, most weren’t scheduled to arrive until nine.”

“Alright, let's get a move on. I need to see what’s going on myself.”

“Yes ma’am.”

A few minutes of hard flying later, Rainbow and Headwind arrived in the weather staging area. Whatever hopes Rainbow had for an early day vanished as the scale of her problem became apparent.

Hovering silently over the main platform cloud were a dozen tanker clouds. Each cloud, over a hundred feet long and thirty feet tall held hundreds of tightly packed storm clouds. If they had all remained sealed, the problem would have been nothing more than a mild annoyance, unfortunately Rainbow could see three of the tanker clouds had been opened, their contents now flooding the tagging area with a mixture of benign rainclouds and dangerous thunderheads.

“This is bad,” Rainbow mumbled as she got closer.

“Oh, thank Celestia you got here!” called Flash as he flew over to Rainbow and Headwind.

“What do we got, Flash?” Rainbow asked.

“Way too many Thunderheads, and nineteen lightning wranglers, including you and me,” he answered.

“Damn it,” Rainbow bit her bottom lip as she quickly thought of a plan. “Okay, how many of the tanker clouds were opened?”

“Only three,” Flash answered, “the first one was rain clouds, the other two were thunderheads. We didn’t realize it until we heard the screaming, and by then it was too late to close the tanker clouds.”

“Great,” Rainbow growled. “Okay, Headwind, I want you to get the closed tanker clouds away from the city. Keep them low to the ground so we don’t risk a tanker full of thunderheads going missing. Have the rest of the cloud pushers form two teams, the first team will form a perimeter and keep curious ponies out of the way, the second team will gather every lightning certified pony in Manehattan and get them here.”

“I don’t have enough cloud pushers to do all that!” Headwind argued.

“Take Dewdrop’s rain teams too, they need to get away from here anyway. Now get to it!” Rainbow ordered.

Headwind offered Rainbow a terse nod before he flew away to carry out his orders.

“What about us?” Flash asked.

“Break whoever you’ve got into teams of two or three and start taking thunderheads outside of the city. We’ll have to manually discharge them one-by-one, otherwise we’re gonna have a nasty electrical storm on our hooves.” Rainbow said as she ran her hoof through her mane. “I’ll stay here so I can direct any rain ponies or cloud pushers away and organize the lightning wranglers as they come in. Got it?”

“Got it, boss lady.”

“Awesome, now get going!”

In a different part of town in her lonely apartment, Fleetfoot was curled up in her bed. Her faithful teddy bear having been clutched to her breast all night as she replayed her encounter with Spitfire and Rainbow in her mind. The things she had said, how Rainbow had reacted, and her ‘fight’ with Spitfire.

Sadness and hurt had given way to anger, and that anger had at some point in the night shifted to simple depression. Fleetfoot sucked in a deep breath and nuzzled her teddy bear, wishing with all her heart she could just fall asleep and forget the last twenty-four hours of her life. Sleep, however, continued to elude her.

As upset as she was with Spitfire, Fleetfoot felt nothing but shame for what she had said to Rainbow. The look in the young mare’s eyes before she stormed off was what had kept Fleetfoot awake all night long. The idea that she had thought of Fleetfoot as a hero before that moment, it brought a wave of sadness over the Wonderbolt.

“What do you think, buddy?” She asked her teddy bear.

The stuffed toy, as usual, was mum on the issue.

“Gee, a lot of help you are sometimes,” Fleetfoot grumbled.

Fleetfoot sighed and slowly lifted herself into a sitting position. Setting her teddy bear on the couch, she yawned once and stretched out her wings. Deciding a good flight would clear her mind, she pulled open a window and leapt to the skies.

Despite her body’s persistent ache, her emotional turmoil, and her general tiredness, Fleetfoot couldn’t help but smile as she flew over the city. The wind swept through her mane and over her coat, it carried her over the buildings and streets below, and it allowed her to forget her troubles, at least temporarily.

Fleetfoot veered towards the edge of the city. Perhaps if she flew a lap or two around Manehattan, she could finally get a little sleep. If nothing else, it would at least give her something to do outside of her apartment.

Half an hour into Fleetfoot’s flight, she came across the weather staging area. Normally, Fleetfoot passed it without a second thought on her semi-regular flyby. Today, however, nothing looked normal. Dozens of dark grey clouds littered the sky, several tanker clouds were pushed to the side awaiting whatever it was the weather team had planned for them, and in the middle of the mess, sitting on a small grey cloud, was a sky-blue mare with a rainbow mane.

Fleetfoot stared at the mare for a long while, her tired mind almost unable to comprehend the situation she had stumbled into. She slowly looked to her left, then to her right. Not seeing any other pegasus around, her mind struggled to figure out what the situation was.

Fleetfoot bit her lip anxiously, on one hoof she now had a chance to talk to Rainbow Dash alone, on the other hoof, well... Fleetfoot honestly couldn’t think of a reason not to fly over and at least apologize. Her decision made, Fleetfoot took a breath to calm her nerves and flew over.

As she got closer, she noticed that Rainbow’s back was facing her. The young weather mare’s eyes focused on the grey clouds floating all around her. If she heard Fleetfoot’s approach, she didn’t react.

Fleetfoot waited for a few moments before she spoke. “Um, hey, Rainbow Dash.”

Rainbow jumped in surprise, quickly turning to face the voice.

“Fleetfoot? What are you doing here? Actually, never mind you’ve got to—”

“Wait, Rainbow, please!” Fleetfoot interrupted, hovering just above the cloud. “Please, just-just hear me out okay? I promise it’ll only take a minute.”

Rainbow sighed, rubbing her temple with a hoof. Rainbow was about to tell Fleetfoot she needed to get out of the area, however as Fleetfoot got closer Rainbow could see the swollen half of her face.

“Oh my gosh, are you okay?” Rainbow asked with a gasp, covering her mouth with her hoof.

“Huh? Oh, right…” Fleetfoot mumbled uncomfortably, her hoof gingerly touching her swollen cheek. “It’s nothing.”

“It looks like you got beat up, I mean, what happened?”

“It’s really nothing,” Fleetfoot lied, “I just tripped last night and landed face first.”

“… Okay,” Rainbow anxiously relented, hoping that listening would be the easiest way to get Fleetfoot out of the area. “Look, Fleetfoot, I’m kinda in the middle of something important here, so what do you want?”

“First of all, I wanted to say I’m sorry for the things I said yesterday. You guys surprised me and I was having a rough day, so I shot my mouth off without thinking. So I just wanted to say I am really, really, sorry.”

Rainbow closed her eyes and slowly took a deep breath and gave Fleetfoot a cautious nod.

“It’s just… well I’ve worked my whole life to be a Wonderbolt, you know? And then when I finally thought I had reached a plateau in my life, you came along and did the impossible. And... and I thought to myself, that’s the only thing left for me professionally.

“We all worked our tails off trying to do it, and just when it seemed like there was no hope left, you show up in town like a blessing from Celestia. But then I find out there’s this whole thing with you and Spitfire…” Fleetfoot glanced up in time to see Rainbow blush heavily. “I guess I just thought this might be my chance.”

Rainbow sighed and pressed a hoof to her forehead. “Fleetfoot—”

“Please, just give me some little hint! What is it that you do that we can’t? You don’t have to tell me the exact secret, but just please-please-please give me something to work with!”

“Fleetfoot, there’s no secret, really!” Rainbow insisted.

“There’s always a secret to unlocking every trick! The buccaneer blaze, the celestial starburst, the striking cobra, the super speed strut, the filly flash, all of them have some trick that unlocks the whole thing!”

“I don’t have a secret trick!”

Fleetfoot scowled, her frustration perfectly mirrored by Rainbow’s. “Just for grins, answer me this then.”

“What?” Rainbow snapped.

“If there was a secret, would you share it with us? Would you share it with Spitfire?”

Rainbow faltered, her eyes breaking contact with Fleetfoot’s unyielding gaze. If Spitfire were to ask, Rainbow didn’t think she could say no.

“...So that’s how it is,” Fleetfoot hissed, the bitter heartbreak plain in her expression. “Fine.”

Spreading her wings, Fleetfoot gave the cloud a frustrated kick as she leapt into the air. Instantly, her world was washed away in a sea of white, and a deafening explosion sent her reeling out of control. Her training took over, and Fleetfoot instinctively tried to regain control of her body. However without being able to see and her equilibrium shattered, she had no idea what was happening, until a collision with the cold earth knocked the breath out of her lungs.

She couldn’t tell how long she laid there gasping for breath as her vision slowly returned. She had no idea what had hit her, or how she had ended up on the ground. All Fleetfoot knew, was that her body ached, a constant ring filled her ears, and she couldn’t stop shaking.

When her vision finally cleared, Fleetfoot realized she was staring up at a skyline full of dark grey clouds, all of which were dangerously arcing lightning in all directions. Fleetfoot groaned in pain as she rolled onto her belly.

“R-Rainbow Dash? R-Rain... I can’t hear... I can’t hear, I can’t hear, I can’t hear!”

Dry, hacking coughs escaped her throat. Fleetfoot tasted blood in her mouth as she gasped for breath. Looking around, her heart skipped a beat as she spotted Rainbow Dash. The weather manager lay in a crumpled heap facing Fleetfoot. Her eyes were closed and her mouth agape, her coat was charred and Fleetfoot saw blood trickling out from her mouth.

“No, no-no-no-no. G-get help, g-gotta g-get h-h-h-help,” Fleetfoot told herself through the shivers that wracked her body.

A quick attempt at flight resulted in nothing more than a face full of dirt. Fleetfoot dimly registered the sense of panic building in her gut from the realization her that whatever had hit her and Rainbow had at least temporarily crippled her flight capability. With no other options she could think of, Fleetfoot hobbled towards the city.

Spitfire turned the page in the novel she was reading, humming a soft tune to herself as light music played on the radio. After showering and preening, she had settled down for a quiet morning. During the active season, it was rare that Spitfire found time to take it easy and read, this was an opportunity that she had missed.

Spitfire reached for her coffee cup, only to be interrupted as a loud bang from outside drew her attention and a deep rumble shook the hotel. Spitfire dropped the book and darted to the window, her eyes scanning the horizon for the source of the disturbance.

She could see it: flashes of light on the edge of the city. The sound of thunder sporadically reached her ears, though it seemed muted from the distance. Spitfire couldn’t be sure, but she was fairly certain that the problems seemed to be coming from the weather staging area. Her heart skipped a beat at the thought. She forced herself away from the windowsill and immediately began to pace around the coffee table.

“Relax, Spitfire,” she told herself, “everything’s fine. It’s nothing Rainbow can’t handle with her team.”

She glanced back out the window, the tiny sparks of lightning glimmering against the grey horizon. Spitfire tried to move back to the couch and resume her book, but she couldn’t escape the sinking feeling in her gut. Growling in frustration, she leapt out the window and spread her wings, the thermals and her weakened muscles carrying her to the source of the trouble.

“Pull those clouds apart!” Flash shouted, “come on, put your backs into it!”

“It’s too late,” shouted one of the senior lightning wranglers, a brown pegasus with a two-toned grey blue mane. “There’s too much static, the network is activating too fast!”

“Do what you can, Rainy, buy me some time!” Flash shouted.

“We’re doing all we can already, boss!”

“We gotta get the tanker clouds out of range, or an electrical storm is the least of our problems!” another lightning wrangler shouted.

“Sweet Celestia,” Flash muttered, his body trembling.

“Hey, you there!” a mare called from behind him.

Turning sharply, Flash briefly considered the possibility that he was in a bizarre hallucination. After all, why else would Spitfire, captain of the Wonderbolts show up out of the blue.

“Spitfire?” Flash balked, “what in the name of Luna’s blue balls are you doing here? You know what, never mind, are you lightning certified?”

“I’ve never worked a day of weather in my life,” she answered quickly.

“Then, all due respect ma’am, get out of here before you get hurt. We’ve got enough problems right now without having to keep an eye you too.”

“I heard the explosion from my hotel, thought I could lend a hoof. Where’s Rainbow Dash? I thought she would’ve been here.” Spitfire asked.

“I don’t know, I just got back here myself. Now please, get out of here, it’s not safe!”

“Just, hold on a second, maybe I c—”

“Hey, help! Somepony help!” a voice shouted from somewhere below them.

Spitfire and Flash both looked below them and simultaneously recoiled in shock. Laid out in front of an amber pegasus stallion was Rainbow Dash. Spitfire reacted automatically, diving to the ground as fast as she could, her heart racing in her chest. Flash was right behind her, his wings splayed out to slow his descent.

Spitfire’s stomach churned as she got a good look at Rainbow. Her coat was singed all over her body, some spots the sky-blue hairs were burned away entirely, blood trickled from her mouth, and her left wing was bent at an unnatural angle. Spitfire didn’t need a doctor to tell her the wing was badly broken.

“Not good, not good.” Flash muttered.

“How... how..." Spitfire whispered, her trembling hooves hovering millimeters over Rainbow’s still body, afraid to touch her for fear of what they may not feel.

“We gotta get help!” The amber stallion said

“Tell me something I didn’t know,” Flash growled, his mind whirring as he tried to figure out how a lightning specialist like Rainbow Dash would have been injured so badly.

“Flash, Flash!” A chocolate colored stallion with a dark brown mane shouted from above them.

“What, Malty?” Flash asked.

“There’s a breach in one of the tanker clouds, we can’t get close enough to patch it without it frying us!”

Flash’s eyes widened as his ears fell back. “Oh, no... no-no-no...”

“What do we do? I mean, how—”

“EVERYPONY GET AWAY FROM THE TANKER!” Flash shouted, roughly grabbing Malt and throwing him in the direction of the city. “COME ON, GO, GO GO!"

The dozen or so pegasi fled as if Nightmare Moon herself was chasing them. Spitfire looked up to the tanker clouds, her eyes widening as she saw electricity arcing wildly out from the corner of one of the massive clouds.

“GET DOWN!” Flash shouted, unceremoniously throwing himself over Spitfire and Rainbow.

Spitfire’s shout was lost to the wind as the tanker cloud exploded, all the lightning clouds within discharging their energy in a single massive burst. The world turned silent and white.

As color returned to Spitfire’s world, everything seemed to move in slow motion. Small fires burned around her like a million tiny candles. She saw pegasi, charred and ragged looking walking the ground in a shell shocked daze. Flash cloud was yelling something to her that she couldn’t hear over the ring in her ears.

“WHAT?” she shouted back at him, her hearing slowly returning.

“I SAID, ARE YOU OKAY?” he shouted again, his voice sounding like barely more than a whisper to her.

“I THINK SO,” she shouted.

Flash gave her a curt nod before he darted away from her to check on the rest of his haggard team. Spitfire’s focus slowly returned to Rainbow, who remained motionless on the ground. She gingerly slipped her hooves around Rainbow’s limp body and cradled the weather mare to her chest.

“Come on, Dash, wake up,” Spitfire pleaded, tears welling up in her eyes as her voice cracked, “please wake up...”

Author's Note

Probably no Fire & Rain next week, I have final exams and then graduation.

BONUS ROUND: Rapid(fire) Eye Movement

Rapidfire and Soarin’ were in full uniform, goggles pulled down to protect their eyes as they soared over Equestria. The wind whipped through their manes and slid over their tailored flight suits. They grinned to each other briefly before they simultaneously dove towards the ground. They waited to the last possible second before flaring their wings out. The air caught in their wings, killing their momentum as they reached out with their hooves for a solid landing.

Rapidfire pulled off his hood and goggles, he looked around for a moment as he absently fixed his mane with a hoof. They had landed in an old statue garden, where ponies of all kinds and poses were memorialized in polished granite. Tall hedges were perfectly trimmed into walls, between them was a winding cobblestone pathway. In the center of the garden was a large fountain with intricate reliefs carved into the base.

Soarin’ pulled his goggles down so they hung loosely around his neck. “Great job today, El-Tee!”

“You weren’t so bad yourself, Mallow,” Rapid said with a smile.

“So,” Soarin’ began, his left wing draped over Rapid’s back, “tomorrow?”

“Maybe, I don’t know,” Rapid answered, his hoof digging anxiously at the cobblestone path.

Soarin’ offered the smaller stallion an optimistic smile.

“Well, until then,” he produced a white rose, seemingly from thin air, which he tucked behind Rapid’s ear. “Something for you.”

“Wh—”

Rapid never got to finish his thought before Soarin’ took to the skies. He felt a strange ache in his chest and a peculiar sense of loneliness without Soarin’ around. Rapidfire sighed, watching as Mallow disappeared into the evening sky. He could hear what sounded like a faint string section begin to play. Taking the rose in a hoof, he stared at it thoughtfully for a moment before he began to sing.

“If there's a prize for rotten judgement

I guess I've already won that.”

No pony’s worth the aggravation,”

He threw the rose over his shoulder, an unimpressed look quickly dominating his face.

“That's ancient history, been there, done that!”

He saw Rainbow Dash, Spitfire, Misty, Fleetfoot, and Blaze appear out of the clouds just before they began to sing, their bodies dancing in perfect sync.

“Who d'ya think you're kiddin'

He's the Earth and heaven to you

Try to keep it hidden

Honey, we can see right through you

Boy, ya can't conceal it

We know how ya feel and

Who you're thinking of”

Rapifire moaned, walking away from the chorus of mares.

“No chance, no way

I won't say it, no, no”

They didn’t miss a beat in responding, dancing slowly as they sang.

“You swoon, you sigh

why deny it, uh-oh”

Rapidfire rolled his eyes.

“It's too cliche, I won't say I'm in love” he sang back to them.

“I thought my heart had learned its lesson

It feels so good when you start out

My head is screaming get a grip, dude

Unless you're dying to cry your heart out.”

Rapidfire rubbed his forehead in frustration as he trotted away from the mares. They crowded in behind him, swaying in time with the music.

“You keep on denying

Who you are and how you're feeling

Baby, we're not buying

Hon, we saw ya hit the ceiling

Face it like a grown-up

When ya gonna own up

That ya got, got, got it bad.”

Rapid flicked his hoof dismissively as he retreated further from them.

“Whoa: No chance, no way, I won't say it, no, no.”

He tripped, catching himself on a life sized statue of Soarin’. The statue’s hoof was extended as if reaching out to passing ponies. The face had been carved to perfectly mirror Soarin’s warm smile.

Rapidfire leaned against the statue, smiling up to the large stallion with a faint blush of crimson on his cheeks. The choir of mares appeared from behind the statue, their hips swaying slowly with the rhythm of the song.

“Give up, or give in.”

“Check the grin you're in love,” Fleetfoot sang.

Rapidfire pushed away from the statue, his smile quickly changing to a frown. “This scene won't play, I won't say I'm in love.”

The siren mares grinned brightly at him. “You're doin flips read our lips, you're in love!”

“You're way off base, I won't say it!” Rapid sang as he pointed his right foreleg at them before turning away in frustration. “Get off my case, I won't say it!”

The mares smiled to him, Rainbow Dash taking the long since discarded rose in her hoof and laying it next to Rapidfire.

“Boy, don't be proud

It's okay you're in love”

Rapidfire smiled, taking the rose in his dexterous primary feathers. He carefully spun the flower around, the pale feathers glowing blue in the moonlight. “Oh, at least out loud, I won't say I'm in love.”

Rapidfire shot into a sitting position, his cheeks burned, and his coat and bedsheets were matted with sweat as he gasped for air. His eyes darted around his dark bedroom, the walls awashed in the gentle moonlight. After his mind stopped reeling, there was only one simple question he could think of.

“The fuck was that?!”

Author's Note

I've been drinking, what's your excuse?

It's not canon... unless it is...

Fucked if I know.

Nothing Else Matters

“Come on, Dash, wake up,” Spitfire pleaded, tears welling up in her eyes as her voice cracked, “please wake up...”

The air carried the acrid reek of smoke and electricity, Rainbow in particular was covered in the scent. Spitfire tried her best to ignore the pungent odor of burnt hair and flesh that emanated from her marefriend. Cold droplets of water dripped down onto Spitfire, sending a shiver down her spine.

Spitfire cast her gaze up to the sky searching for a rain cloud that wasn’t there, errant tears spilling down her cheeks. She realized, after a few moments, that the rain was from the exploded tanker cloud. The lightning detonation having reduced both it and the clouds around it to vapor and water.

Another bolt of lightning lashed out from the heavens, striking an old oak tree towards the outskirts of the staging area. The tree exploded, sending shrapnel in all directions, Spitfire reacted on instinct, throwing her body over Rainbow’s to offer what little protection she could. She winced when she heard the screams of pegasi who had been too close and held Rainbow’s body closer still. Nothing would move her from the unconscious mare again, not until she knew Rainbow was safe.

She saw Flash Cloud, a large group of splinters jutting angrily from his right foreleg Despite the pain on his face and the blood flowing down his limb, Spitfire watched as he flew from pony to pony, doing whatever he could to organize them. She knew she should leave Rainbow to another pony, she knew she could help Flash organize his team. Yet for all her logical mind told her what she was supposed to do, she couldn’t move a feather, she wouldn’t.

A light green stallion landed nearby to her, his eyes going wide and his jaw dropping the moment he noticed Rainbow’s condition.

“No way, this can’t be—”

“Headwind!” Flash shouted, flying over towards Spitfire and Rainbow.

“Sweet Celestia, Flash, you’re—”

“Shut up,” Flash interrupted, his teeth gritted from the pain in his foreleg. “I need everypony you’ve got to get paramedics and carriages here now.”

“What happened here Flash? I thought your team—”

“I don’t have a team anymore, Headwind, I have casualties!” Flash shouted, his voice trembling.

“Oh no, Flash... Is... is anypony dead?”

“I don’t know.”

Headwind’s attention shifted to Rainbow Dash’s still form. “I-is she...”

“I don’t know,” Flash answered again.

Spitfire leaned over so her ear was almost touching Rainbow’s snout. For a cold and terrible moment, she felt nothing. The cold tendrils of despair spread through the back of her mind, threatening to consume her until she felt it: Rainbow’s breath. Spitfire waited a moment longer until she felt a second breath wash over her ear, no stronger or weaker than the first.

Her heart nearly leapt for joy, though Spitfire restrained herself for a moment longer. Something didn’t sound right. He kept her ear close to Rainbow’s snout, listening carefully to the fallen mare’s breathing. Then she heard it; a faint crackle in every weak breath.

Spitfire sat up quickly, her mind resolute on a plan of action.

“She’s alive, but she needs medical attention right now, where’s the nearest hospital?” Spitfire asked, the traces of her command mask slowly reasserting themselves.

“Manehattan General, it-it’s a fifteen minute flight if you push yourself hard, thirty five if you’re flying casual,” Headwind said, pointing out the direction.

“Maybe fifteen for you,” Spitfire said, her eyes remaining fixated to Rainbow.

“What do you mean?” Headwind asked.

Spitfire afforded the stallions a confident smile as she lifted Rainbow into her forelegs. “I’m the captain of the Wonderbolts, I’ll get her there in five.”

“You should go too, Flash,” Headwind said.

“I’m fine,” Flash growled. “When you get there, tell them we need help over here.”

“Consider it sent,” Spitfire spread her wings, but hesitated for a moment. She looked at Flash again. “I never caught your name.”

“Flash Cloud, ma’am, I’m Manhattan’s senior lightning wrangler,” he answered.

Spitfire nodded once.

Taking one last chance to reaffirm her grip on Rainbow, Spitfire kicked off of the ground and into the sky. Her right wing, already sore from the flight to the staging area, quickly made its displeasure known. Spitfire ignored the discomfort, forcing herself to fly faster, compared to Rainbow’s need nothing else mattered.

Her mind raced, memories of the prior night threatening to overwhelm her.

“... I don’t know what to say, Rainbow. I don’t know how this ends, or how either of us will act if it does. But I don’t want this to end either. I want there to be an us tomorrow, and the next day, and the next week, and the next month, and the month after that too. Because… because I think I’m falling in love with you too.”

Spitfire gritted her teeth, shaking her head violently to rid the thoughts from her mind. She couldn’t allow herself the distraction, not yet. The ache in her wing grew worse with every beat, Spitfire ignored it as best she could. All that mattered was Rainbow.

The mare in her forelegs let out a weak cough that drew Spitfire’s attention. Her heart leapt for joy at seeing Rainbow’s eyes crack open, only to race in horror at the smattering of blood that decorated her foreleg from Rainbow’s cough.

“Where...” Rainbow croaked, her voice quiet.

“I’ve got you, Dash, we’re going to the hospital. Everything’s gonna be okay now,” Spitfire promised.

Rainbow muttered something, her words slurred and incomprehensible to the Wonderbolt. Spitfire glanced down long enough to notice the vacant, glassy-eyed stare in Rainbow’s eyes as well as the trickle of blood from the corner of her mouth. Spitfire forced herself to fly faster, unable to do anything else without losing her grip.

“We’re almost there, Rainbow, just stay awake for me, okay?”

Despite the agony on her face, Rainbow forced a smile. “Never thought... you’d be carrying me.”

Spitfire could resist a bark of laughter despite the situation. “I think I owed you one or two.”

“Sorry...”

“You’ve got nothing to be sorry for, Dash.”

Rainbow let out a pained groan as she tried to lift her head. “I don’t feel so good.”

“I know, Rainbow, I know. It’s gonna be alright though. We’re gonna get you to the hospital, and they’re gonna get you patched up in no time!” Spitfire reassured Rainbow, hoping Rainbow didn’t pick up on her fear.

“Hurts,” Rainbow said, her voice barely more than a whisper.

“I know, Dash, I know, but you’re gonna be okay,” Spitfire promised.

“I don’t... don... feel,” Rainbow mumbled, her speech getting slower as she faded.

“Rainbow? Rainbow, please, you gotta stay awake for me now!” Spitfire begged.

Rainbow didn’t answer, her body going limp in Spitfire’s forelegs.

“Rainbow? Rainbow?!” Spitfire shouted, glancing down at her lover once again. Panic gripped Spitfire’s heart. “Don’t you dare leave me hanging like this, Rainbow, don’t you dare!”

Blinking the tears from her eyes, Spitfire pumped her wings harder than ever determined to get Rainbow to help. Pain spread through her wing making her fumble in her flight for a moment, Spitfire groaned, her teeth gritting, and face contorting as she fought through the pain. Nothing, not pain, lightning, nor Celestia herself would stop her from getting Rainbow to a hospital.

Pushing herself as hard as she could, the hospital soon came into view. Tall white stone walls were capped by a salmon colored roof, large red crosses were painted on the sides of the building as well as the roof so flying pegasi could identify it at a distance.

From the angle she was approaching, Spitfire could see the hospital’s back garden, a peaceful arrangement of shrubbery and flowers for patients and families to rest and reflect on things. Off to the side near a blossoming cherry tree was a white unicorn mare with an electric blue mane and tail sitting in a wheelchair. The Wonderbolt flared her wings out to slow down.

She realized too late the cost of her actions.

She heard the snap before she felt it as the already weakened muscle ruptured. White-hot agony surged through her wing and into her shoulder. Spitfire screamed as she fell from the sky, her left wing doing all it could to slow her down. At the last moment, Spitfire managed to roll to her back, using her body as a cushion between Rainbow and the ground.

The impact knocked the air from Spitfire’s lungs and pulled Rainbow free of her grip. Spitfire clenched her teeth and squeezed her eyes shut, the pain in her wing overwhelming her mind. No matter how hard she tried, Spitfire couldn’t open her eyes. She couldn’t think, she couldn’t focus, she could barely breathe, the pain in her wing engulfed her entire being.

“Hey, help! Help! Somepony, help!” the wheelchair bound mare shouted.

Spitfire managed to roll herself onto her belly, her hooves scraping lines into the grass. Forcing her eyes open, she was able to see Rainbow laying in a crumpled heap barely two feet away. The Wonderbolt tried to crawl over to her fallen marefriend, yet she was stopped by searing lances of pain through her wing. Spitfire’s nose pressed into the grass as she groaned in agony.

Ponies seemed to flood out of the hospital enveloping Rainbow and Spitfire. Spitfire bit back a cry as she was hefted onto a gurney and raced into the hospital. Every bump and jostle creating a perpetual torture for her. She couldn’t stop the tears that rolled down her cheeks.

Her gurney came to a stop in a bright room, the glare from the overhead lights nearly blinding Spitfire to the organized chaos around her. She felt a sting in her right foreleg where someone started an IV, a blood pressure cuff wrapped tightly around her left foreleg, and leads were attached to her chest

“Ma’am, what’s your name?” A mare asked from somewhere spitfire couldn’t see.

“Spitfire,” She answered through gritted teeth.

“Can you tell me the name of the mare you were with?”

“Rainbow Dash,”

“Can you tell me what happened to her?”

“No, I-I don’t know,” Spitfire answered through a pained moan.

“Alright, that’s okay. How about yourself, then? Can you tell me where the pain is?” the mare asked.

“Right wing... bicep...”

Gentle hooves touched the injured limb, Spitfire let out a sharp cry of pain from the delicate contact. Instinct took over, as Spitfire lashed out at her tormenter with a hoof. The strike missed hitting anypony or anything, and just as quickly medical ponies where restraining her with magic and hooves. A warm feeling flooded into her foreleg through the IV, Spitfire felt her strength vanish as the morphine did its work.

“... Rain...” she whispered as the darkness claimed her mind.

Soarin’ hummed to himself as he went fixed a salad for breakfast, the radio was his only companion for the morning. He was looking forward to the day, with plans to catch a movie and write some letters to his family. He was sure that it was going to be a very good day, until the radio broadcaster interrupted the song.

“Ladies and gentlecolts, I apologize for the interruption, however we have a breaking news announcement.”

Soarin’s ears perked from the urgency of the broadcasters voice. He turned to face the radio as he popped a cucumber slice into his mouth.

“There has been some sort of problem with todays scheduled storm, there are fires around the weather staging grounds and we are getting scattered reports of injuries to the weather team. Fire brigades from all around the city are being mobilized to the scene as well as paramedics. All ponies on the northeast edge of the city are advised to be on the lookout for fires and stay alert until further notice. This is a developing story, please stay tuned for more as we get it.”

Soarin’ cursed, his salad forgotten about as he ran out to his porch and leapt into the skies. The usual euphoria of flight was lost on Soarin’ as he flew as fast as his wings would carry him towards the weather staging area. He didn’t know what he would be able to do, but damned if he wouldn’t try.

Flying as fast as he could it still took Soarin’ nearly thirty minutes to get from his apartment to the weather staging grounds. A slow, creeping dread built in his chest the closer he got the the staging grounds. The smoke from dozens of fires billowed up from the ground while sporadic flashes of lightning arced out of the ominous grey clouds floating over the area.

“Celestia steh uns bei,” Soarin’ whispered.

“Hey, Mallow!” a voice called from behind Soarin’.

Turning around, Soarin’ quickly spotted Rapidfire, the smaller stallion came to a stop just beside him.

“I’m guessing you heard the news flash too?” Soarin’ asked.

“Yeah, got any bright ideas?” Rapid asked.

“Find Rainbow Dash and have her tell us what she needs help with,” Soarin’ answered.

“That’ll work for me,” Rapid said, “I wonder if Spits was listening to the radio.”

“She could probably see this mess from her window if she happened to look,” Soarin’ commented.

“True, shall we?”

“Race you there!” Soarin’ shouted as he took off.

“Cheater!” Rapid shouted from a fair distance behind.

Soarin’ allowed himself a small laugh at Rapid’s expense.

The two Wonderbolts covered the distance in only a few short minutes, Soarin’ intentionally slowing down to match Rapidfire’s pace. As they approached the scene, the two slowed down even further, hesitant to get too close to the lightning spewing clouds or the raging flames below. Nearer to the city’s edge, they spotted a small assembly area filled with white and red ambulance carriages.

Soarin’ whistled to Rapifire, and with a jerk of his head the two simultaneously dove to the ground, landing just behind the carriages. It was only a matter of moments before a hay colored pegasus mare with an auburn mane trotted over to them.

“Unless you two are with the fire brigade, you’ve gotta get out of here!” she said.

“I’m Soarin’ and this is Rapidfire, we’re here to offer whatever assistance we can,” Soarin’ told her.

The mare recoiled slightly from the surprise. “As in the Wonderbolts?”

“That’s us!” Rapid said, giving the mare his best smile.

“Okay, um, what can you guys do?” she asked.

“I’m trained in basic field medicine and I know how to work a rain cloud,” Soarin’ answered.

“I can work a rain cloud well enough to douse a fire,” Rapid said.

The mare didn’t seem convinced.

“Look just take us to Rainbow Dash, tell her Soarin’ and Rapid are here to help.” Soarin’ said.

The blonde mare winced. “You don’t know?”

Rapid and Soarin’ exchanged a confused look.

“Don’t know what?” Rapid asked.

“Come with me,” the mare said before she galloped towards the carriages.

Soarin’ and rapid followed close behind, afraid to ask the questions that festered in the back of their minds. The mare led them to an exhausted looking stallion with a black mane and light grey coat. His right foreleg was wrapped in gauze, spots of blood visible through the thick wrapping. Soarin’ and rapid could both see the long, jagged, splinters of wood jutted out of his limb, Rapidfire paled at the sight.

“Flash,” the mare called to him, earning a weary glance. “These two just showed up looking to help.”

“Well damn my eyes,” Flash said with a tired smile, “if it isn’t two more Wonderbolts.”

“Two more?” Soarin’ asked, “who else is here?”

“Spitfire showed up a while ago,” Flash answered, his body leaning heavily against the side of the ambulance.

“What happened here?” Rapid asked, keeping his eyes away from Flash’s wounds.

“Our shipment got botched,” Flash answered simply, “and we got our flanks kicked for it.”

“What can we help?” Soarin’ asked.

“The thunderheads have already formed an unstable storm engine. There’s nothing we can do except control the fires now.” Flash said, his posture sagging.

“Where’s Rainbow Dash, can we talk to her, or maybe Spitfire if she’s around still?” Rapid asked.

Flash’s face pulled into a sad frown. “She got tagged by a thunderhead somehow. Spitfire took her to the hospital almost an hour ago.”

“WHAT?!” both Wonderbolts shouted.

“Which hospital did they go to?” Rapid demanded, nearly tackling Flash to the ground.

“Manehattan General.”

“Rapid, get over there now,” Soarin’ ordered, “I’ll stay here and do what I can.”

With a curt nod, Rapidfire took off. Flying faster than he had in a long time, Rapid made record time from the staging grounds to the hospital. He circled the building once to find the emergency room entrance before landing and charging inside. He skidded to a stop just in front of the check in desk.

The mare behind the desk barely flinched from Rapid’s sudden entrance. “How can I help you sir?”

“I’m looking for my sister, Spitfire. She should have come in about an hour ago with another mare.”

The earth pony thought for a moment. “You’re the first pegasus that walked in the door today, let me check the trauma bays.”

Rapid nodded as the mare disappeared into the emergency room. His wings twitched as he tapped his hoof against the floor impatiently. The few minutes the mare was gone seemed like hours to Rapid. His nerves didn’t calm any when she reappeared and motioned for him to follow her.

“You sister is in room four,” she said, leading him to the room in question.

“Is she in there with Rainbow Dash?” Rapid asked.

The mare gave him a confused look. “Um, no, she’s in there alone.”

Rapid’s heart skipped a beat and his steps faltered momentarily. “Why is she in there? What’s wrong?”

“Doctor Salve will be able to tell you more than I could, I’ll see that he speaks to you as soon as possible,” she said, as she stopped in front of room four.

Rapid bit back a growl and forced a nod. He mumbled a brief thanks to the mare before pushing into the brightly lit room. He froze just inside the threshold, his jaw dropping and his eyes growing wide at the site.

Spitfire was in the bed, her right wing sticking straight out and her coat matted from sweat. Her eyes fluttered open and closed without rhyme or reason and she made a muted groan of pain every few moments. A single white sheet was pulled up to her chest, offering what little comfort it could.

“S-Spits?” Rapid uttered as he cautiously approached the bed. “Sweet Celestia, Spits?”

Spitfire made a loud groan, seemingly unaware of her brother’s presence. Rapidfire felt his heart sink as he sat beside her bed.

“Spits? Can you hear me?” he asked softly.

“Rainbow...” Spitfire moaned, “gotta... get... help...”

Rapidfire took in a trembling breath, his hoof resting on top of hers. Questions flooded his mind, question to which he knew he wouldn’t get any answers for a long time with Spitfire so heavily medicated.

After a while, there was a gentle knock on the door. Rapid looked up in time to see a green unicorn with a brown mane trot in. The unicorn stallion held a manilla folder in his magical grasp, which Rapid assumed was Spitfire’s file.

“Good morning sir, I’m Dr. Salve,” he introduced himself.

“Rapidfire,” Rapid said, extending his hoof, which the doctor quickly shook, “I’m Spitfire’s brother.”

“Pleasure to meet you sir, though I wish the circumstances were better.”

“Likewise, what happened to her?”

“Your sister has what is known as a third degree muscle rupture. Now, what that means is that the muscle was pushed far beyond its capabilities and tore itself apart in mid flight, probably from the extra weight of the mare she brought in with her. Now, we can correct this through surgery, which...”

Rapidfire began to feel woozy as Dr. Salve explained the injury and procedure in further detail. His mouth became dry, his stomach twisted in knots, his equilibrium began to slip away, and darkness rapidly encroached into his vision. Squeezing his eyes shut, Rapid quickly sat down and took slow, deep breaths. Salve paused in his speech when he noticed Rapid sit.

“Uh, are you okay?” Salve asked.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m great!” Rapid insisted, “Just, you know, got a little lightheaded.”

“Do you need me to get you a wet towel and some water?”

“No, no, I’m okay!” Rapid said and he stood back up and sucked in a deep breath. “You were saying?”

“Uh, well, we’re hopeful that we can repair the rupture, we’re just waiting for a specialist on pegasus wings before we begin the surgery.”

“But, she’ll be able to fly again, right? I mean, in a few months once she’s recovered?”

“We won’t know for a while, but if we do nothing then I promise she won’t fly again so long as she lives. This operation is the best bet she’s got though.”

“W-what about Rainbow Dash?” Rapid asked.

“Beg pardon?”

“Rainbow Dash, the mare my sister brought in, is she okay?”

“Unless you’re family then I’m afraid I can’t—”

“I don’t need to know much, just please tell me if she’s okay!” Rapid demanded.

The unicorn allowed himself a quiet sigh as he contemplated the request. After a few moments of thought he locked his gaze on Rapidfire and spoke.

“I believe she was taken to the O.R. a little while ago.”

“Sweet Celestia,” Rapid whispered, instinctively taking a step back. “I-is she going to be okay?”

“... We have excellent surgeons here,” Salve answered, “they’ll do everything they can.”

Flying High...

Rapidfire sighed, his blank gaze fixated at an old newspaper held loosely in his hooves. He had picked it up seemingly hours earlier, only to never read past the front page, some vapid story about local political nonsense. Rapid shook his head and rubbed his eyes against his hoof as he tossed the paper onto the small end table beside Spitfire’s bed.

The trauma room they had tucked her in was cramped by pegasus standards. The bed was positioned in the center of the space with an array of monitors and equipment lining the back wall. The sidewalls of the room were furnished with matching cabinets presumably filled with life saving equipment and carefully organized. Along the front wall had been a pair of mismatched chairs that seemed more like an afterthought than anything else. The cheap construction and worn-out cushioning certainly didn’t win any points from the former mail carrier.

Slipping off the chair, Rapid grunted as he stretched the stiff muscles in his wings and back. He held the stretch for several long moments before he relaxed with a satisfied sigh. With nothing else to do, Rapid began to pace around the bed, mindful to keep his steps quiet for Spitfire.

A worried frown pulled at his lips as he turned his attention to his sister. Even through the morphine haze, Rapid could see the pain etched across her face. He could only imagine how bad it must have hurt for her, though the worst pain he had ever experienced had been a few cracked ribs after a training accident.

Rapidfire’s wings fidgeted against his sides, his feathers quivering with barely restrained energy. He trotted back to his chair and forced himself to sit back down. He ruffled his mane with a hoof and took a series of deep breaths to calm down.

“What am I gonna tell Mom and Dad?” he pondered aloud. His heart skipped a beat at the very thought of that particular conversation. Their father was nothing if not overprotective of his children, and their mother wasn’t far behind. “What are we gonna tell Arcus?”

Rapidfire groaned, planting his head in his hooves and rubbing his face. Just for a few minutes, he wished he knew a time travel spell. He wished with all his heart he could go back one month and prevent Spitfire from tearing her wing the first time. So many problems would simply disappear if he could change that one moment.

Spitfire’s eyes slowly blinked open, her eyes drifting around the room until the settled on Rapid.

“Rah...” she gasped, her mouth dry from hours without a drop of water, “Rapid?”

Rapid jumped from the sound, instantly jumping from his seat and to her side. “Spits, are you okay? What happened?”

Spitfire winced, her foreleg covering her eyes. “Nnng, there was... there was an accident. Rainbow... Rainbow!” She blurted, doing her best to sit up.

Rapid put his hooves on her shoulders, gently coaxing her back down. “Easy, Spits, you’re still pretty out of it. What happened with Rainbow?”

“There... there was blood,” Spitfire began, her voice trembling. “She needed help. So... so I flew her here. An-and then there was this snap in my wing and... and...” a sick look spread over Spitfire’s face the more the memories returned to her. Spitfire lifted a hoof to cover her mouth, a bout of nausea nearly overwhelming her. “Oh Celestia... what... what have I...”

“Hey, hey!” Rapid cut her off, pulling his twin into a tight embrace. “Everythings okay now, right?”

“No... no its not okay,” Spitfire moaned, her hooves rubbing across her face. “its all over...”

“What do you mean?” Rapid asked, his right eyebrow arching upwards and a confused frown pulling at his lips. “You hurt your wing saving Rainbow, surely Arcus can’t be mad about that.”

Spitfire spat out a bitter laugh. “No... I... I did something yesterday. Something really stupid...”

“Don’t tell me, you slept with Rainbow?” Rapid asked.

Spitfire blushed and folded her forelegs over her chest. “My sex life isn’t your business, Rapid.”

“...Wait, I was just being a smartass, don’t tell me you really.... y’know...” he tapped his front hooves together.

Spitfire’s blush only intensified, Rapid gave her a self-satisfied smirk.

“I won’t tell Arcus,” he promised.

“Thats the least of what he’ll kick my ass for anyway,” Spitfire moaned, hissing from a lance of pain in her wing.

“What do you mean?” he asked, “I mean, what could—”

“I punched Fleetfoot,” Spitfire interrupted, her voice quiet.

“You what?” Rapid asked, recoiling in disbelief.

“Rainbow and I went to talk to her yesterday and I punched her when she made me mad,” Spitfire said, the shame hanging over her like a cloud.

“Why the hell would you do that?! Are you insane?” Rapid demanded.

“I wasn’t thinking, it just... happened.”

Rapidfire pressed a hoof to his forehead and sighed. For a few minutes silence settled between the siblings. Like the calm before a storm, Spitfire could all but feel Rapid’s frustrations boiling over.

“You know, sometimes, I really hate you,” He growled, his words born from years of unspoken frustration. “You always have to do everything your way and drag everypony along for the ride. Never mind if they’re all saying ‘hey, Spits, maybe that’s a bad idea’, or ‘maybe we shouldn’t stick our noses in that mess cause we’ll get smacked’, but nooo, it’s always ‘Spitfire’s way or the highway’, never mind that I’m the one who has to clean up the mess.”

“That’s not true, and you know it!” Spitfire challenged, her hoof striking the mattress and earning a pained wince from her.

“Oh really? How about when everypony said ‘hey Spits, maybe you shouldn’t date Rainbow’, or when we all—”

“You have no right to judge me for that! I’ve always gone out of my way to support your decisions!” she countered, hissing in pain when the outburst jarred her wing. “I always did my best to put personal feelings aside, especially after Zephyr. Now the one time I finally meet somepony I feel something good with, you’re gonna judge me for it?!”

“How do you think I feel, Spits?” Rapid demanded, his wings flaring out angrily. “How do you think it feels when I find out my sister just crippled herself? You have any idea how scared I was when you crashed a few weeks ago?”

“Rapid—“

“No! No, don’t you fucking ‘Rapid’ me like we’re kids and this is just some game! Last month you smashed into the ground head first, I thought you were dead! And now you knew your wing wasn’t ready to do hard work, but you carried Rainbow here anyway! Why can’t you ever wait? Why couldn’t you wait for help to get there? Don’t... don’t you trust us? Don’t you trust me?” Rapid’s voice cracked, tears building in the corners of his eyes. “We used to look out for each other, Spits… you used to trust me…”

“I had to, Rapid there wasn’t any choice!” Spitfire argued, snarling in a mixture of pain and anger.

“There is always a choice! You could have waited a few minutes f—”

“She didn’t wait before she saved my life at the Best Young Flyers Competition, and... and I... I couldn’t...” Spitfire’s voice dropped to barely more than a whisper. She reached up with a trembling hoof to cover her mouth, her eyes staring blankly into space.

Rapid took a cautious step towards her. “What? You couldn’t what?”

Spitfire took in a shaky breath, a lump forming in her throat and moisture obscuring her vision. “I... I couldn’t wait.”

“But why?!” Rapid asked, “I mean, why couldn’t you—”

“I just couldn’t, okay!” Spitfire shouted. “I would have done the same for you, you know!”

“I know, but... but don’t you trust me, Spits?” Rapid asked, his tone almost pleading. “You know I would’ve been there for you, right?”

There was a pair of brusque knocks, which startled the twins from their conversation. The wooden door pushed open, the metal hinges announcing their protest with a low creak. A heavyset unicorn trotted through the threshold, his amber coat mostly hidden under his teal surgical scrubs. His mane and tail mostly greyed out, though streaks of their original sandy blonde color were still visible. Below his nose was an exquisitely groomed moustache that both twins found impressive, even if age had turned it white.

“Good afternoon, I’m sorry to have kept you waiting so long. I’m Dr. Green, a pleasure to meet you both,” he introduced himself, a kind smile on his lips.

“Rapidfire,” Rapid said, offering Green his hoof, which the doctor quickly shook. “Nice to meet you.”

“Heya, doc,” Spitfire said, "how's it hanging?"

Green smirked from the relaxed comment, he was used to more... uncooperative patients. “Well enough, I suppose. So, we’re here to fix your wing, that sound about right.”

“Yeah, I guess. I’ve been kinda out of it from the drugs they gave me when I crashed,” Spitfire answered.

“Well,” he began, his horn pulling the chart from the foot of the bed. “judging from the damage we saw on the tests and from the symptoms you exhibited coming in, I’d suspect without those drugs you’d be in a world of hurt. How does it feel right now, on a scale of one to ten?”

“Seven or eight.”

Green nodded, replacing the chart before his magic encompassed Spitfire’s bandaged wing in a simple analysis spell. His face remained passive, though both Spitfire and Rapid could see the concentration in his eyes.

“Alright, so heres what we’re going to do Spitfire. First we’ve got to drain the blood from the area, that’ll take down the swelling. Then we’re going to open up the wing and repair the muscle, probably some magic, some sutures, it depends on how bad it is,” he paused noticing the pallor that had overtaken Rapid’s face. “Are you okay, sir?”

“I’m good!” Rapid answered quickly, his eyes squeezing shut as he forced himself to take deep,steady breaths.

Spitfire suppressed a giggle. “Rapid gets squeamish.”

“I see,” Green said, moving closer to Rapid in case he needed to catch. “Well then, do either of you have any other questions?” Dr. Green asked.

“What’s the recovery on surgeries like this?” Spitfire asked.

“It’s gonna depend on how bad the rupture is,” Green began. “You’ll be grounded for at least a month, and after a lot of physical therapy you should be able to have limited flight again. Again, we’ll know more once we’ve had a good look.”

“But, she flies for a living. We’re Wonderbolts... does... does this mean...” Rapid sputtered his forehooves rubbing nervously together.

“We’ll do our best, I can’t promise anything for certain though.” Green answered.

“Oh, um, I came in with another mare. She had a broken wing, did you work on her?” Spitfire asked.

“Rainbow maned mare?” Green asked.

“Yeah, she’s, um, she’s my marefriend.” Spitfire said.

“I see,” Green said, a hoof rubbing his chin as he considered his words. “I was asked to look at her wing, yes.”

“Could you tell me how she is?” Spitfire asked.

“She’s still in surgery, she was stable when I left,” he answered, he held up a hoof to stop the next question before Spitfire could ask. “I can’t say anything more, I’m sorry. Now then, do either of you have any other questions pertaining to your wing, Spitfire?”

Spitfire and Rapidfire both exchanged a quick glance before shaking their heads in tandem.

“Alright then, the nurses will be by in a few minutes to take you up to the OR.”

“Oh, wait!” Rapid interrupted, “I just thought of something. Do I wait in here, or is there someplace I should go? And, and we have some friends who should be stopping by soon. Where would they go?”

Green smiled as he answered. “A nurse will show you to the waiting rooms, your friends will be directed there as well.”

“Okay, thanks doc,” Rapid said, once again offering his hoof to the doctor. Green shook it again before excusing himself to scrub in.

Spitfire sighed, her head resting against the pillows and a resigned look settling over her face. When she spoke her tone was quiet, though nopony could miss the sadness in her words. “Hey, Rapid?”

“Yeah?”

“I need you to do me a favor while I’m out.”

“Name it.”

“You have Wonderbolts letterhead at your place, right?” she asked looking him in the eye.

“Yeah...” Rapid answered, not liking where this conversation was heading.

“If you could bring me some for when I wake up and a pencil, I’d appreciate it.” Spitfire said quietly.

“What for?” he asked, dread building in his chest.

Spitfire was quiet for a long while before she answered. Her eyes filled with tears and her jaw quivered like a leaf in the wind. “Arcus is gonna hear about this in a day or two. I... I’m going to have my letter of resignation ready when he gets here.”

“What?!” Rapid balked, “Spits, no! You—”

“Rapid, please, just do it. For me...” Spitfire said tiredly.

“Spits, I—”

Rapid’s comments were cut off as a pair of earth pony nurses trotted into the room. The first mare wore a set of light blue scrubs with a cheerful floral pattern, the second wore plain scrubs dyed a maroon color and trimmed with a deep blue. Both smiled cheerfully to the siblings.

“Are we all set?” the floral mare asked.

Spitfire took a deep breath, steeling herself before she nodded. “Let’s do it.”

“One sec,” Rapid said, moving to Spitfire’s bedside and giving her a hug, mindful of her wing. Spitfire returned the embrace, her hoof gently patting Rapid’s back. “I’ll see you soon.”

“Everything's gonna be fine,” Spitfire promised. “Love you.”

Rapid managed a nod, unable to speak over the knot in his throat. The mare in the floral scrubs disconnected Spitfire’s monitors, unlocked the brakes on Spitfire’s gurney, and wheeled her out the door. Rapid barely registered the other mare guiding him to the waiting room.

Spitfire forced herself to take deep breaths as she was taken to the OR. She watched the tiles and lights pass her overhead, she listened the the mare pushing her cart offer her the platitudes. She winced in pain when the gurney pushed open a set of swinging doors to the OR. A pair of unicorns enveloped her in their magical aura which sent a tingle through Spitfires body. Together, they lifted her onto a second bed where they began to attach various monitors to her body.

Despite all the turmoil of the day, Spitfire couldn’t help but notice the music that the nurses had playing on a radio in the corner. She could hear a familiar baritone stallion singing a melancholy song. She couldn’t remember his name (a fact she blamed on the residual morphine in her system), but she vividly recalled her and Rapid, sitting on their father’s lap when they were little and listening to the stallions albums when he was home.

“This is a really great song,” she commented with a nervous smile.

“We try our best, hun,” one of the nurses answered.

A pony Spitfire couldn’t see entered the room and greeted the nurses. When he finally reached Spitfire’s vision she saw he was a light tan unicorn with a dark mane. “Spitfire, I presume?”

“Guilty as charged,” she answered.

“Good to meet you, I’m Dr. Haze, I’ll be your anesthesiologist this evening. Don’t worry, you won’t remember a thing about me when you wake up,” he winked playfully, “I forgive you in advance.”

“Heh, thanks Doc,” Spitfire laughed nervously.

“So, Spitfire,” he began as he prepared a needle full of a clear liquid. “Do you drink?”

“Socially,” she answered.

“Ever had a whiskey manehattan?” he asked.

“Uh, no. My best friend likes them, though.”

“Well then,” he said, inserting the needle into her IV and slowly injecting it “this is one manehattan...”

Spitfire felt a warm sensation fill her body, starting from her left foreleg.

“This is two,” he continued.

Spitfire started giggling like a filly.

“Three,”

Spitfire bit her tongue to quell her giggles as the ceiling began to shift fluidly before her eyes.

“Four manehattans,” Haze said, smirking at her reaction.

“You can, like, totally stop for a minute,” Spitfire slurred, “this shit is awesome...”

“Somepony’s feeling it,” a nurse laughed.

“Sweet dreams!” Haze said.

Darkness claimed Spitfire’s mind.

Rapidfire was vaguely aware of passing by other ponies in the halls and being ushered into a waiting room just off of the surgical suites. Like every room in the hospital, the walls had been painted a neutral tan color. The floor was assembled from large white tiling set into charcoal-colored grout. A pair of hibiscus plants were placed in the corners of the room both bearing blooming red flowers. The plants flanked a couch long enough to seat four ponies. Its soft green cushions offered a fair level of comfort for the countless ponies that were forced to wait in the room for news of their loved ones.

Rapid sat on the corner of the couch, his eyes fixed to the cold tile floor. The wall clock ticked the seconds away like a metronome, though Rapid barely noticed. His mind replayed Spitfire’s request over and over again. He couldn’t believe things had come to this, all because of one mistake.

The hinges of the door creaked open catching Rapidfire’s attention. He looked up in time to see Soarin’ casually walk through the door. The pale blue stallion looked tired and dirty with soot marks marring his normally pristine coat and feathers. He gave Rapid a weary smile as he walked over and slumped heavily on the couch. For a moment there was silence between the two stallions, then Soarin’ turned to Rapid.

“Hey,” Soarin’ said, his voice quiet. “What’s going on? Where’s Spitfire?”

Rapid gulped, a hoof anxiously rubbing through his mane. “She’s... she’s in surgery.”

Soarin’s eyes went wide and his jaw dropped, his body twisted so he was fully facing Rapidfire.. “What about Rainbow?”

Rapid shook his head. “I don’t know...”

“Sweet Celestia,” Soarin’ breathed, “Spitfire, what happened?”

“She... she tore her wing,” Rapid answered, his heart sinking and an anguished look pulling at his features.

“Oh no... is she... I mean, will she... you know?”

Rapid’s jaw trembled, he couldn't bring himself to speak.

“Hey, hey come here,” Soarin’ said in a gentle tone, his hoof resting on Rapidfire’s shoulder.

Rapid’s tears soaked into Soarin’s chest as the smaller stallion hugged him. Soarin’ wrapped his wings and forelegs around Rapid, his left hoof gently patting Rapid’s back.

“It’s gonna be alright, buddy. It’s gonna be alright,” Soarin’ assured Rapid, even though he didn't fully believe his own words. Still, he repeated the words like a mantra, if nothing else to comfort the frightened stallion in his hooves. “It’s okay, it’s okay...”

Author's Note

Sorry about the lateness guys. It's been a long week.

Falling Hard

She could hear a voice calling out to her from the darkness, like an echo from the depths of a cave. Again and again it called, and though each sounding was louder than the last, faded echoes that sank away into ghostly sounds weighed them down. It took some time for the words behind the noise to become noticeable.

“Miss? Miss, can you hear me?”

The mare let out a soft groan, her voice hoarse and her throat parched. Every muscle in her body ached; she gave a set of weak coughs and grimaced. Light slowly encroached on the darkness that encompassed her world, even the smallest bit seemed blinding to her. She tried lifting a foreleg to cover her eyes, but found her hoof wouldn’t lift more than a few inches before something stopped her.

“Can you hear me, Miss?” the voice asked again, “what is your name?”

“Fuh...,” she breathed, her voice barely more than a whisper, “Fleet... foot....”

“All right, Fleetfoot, I’m Nurse Joy. How are you feeling?” the voice asked, a motherly tone full of warmth and kindness.

“Wh...where...” Fleetfoot swallowed, the simple act made tortuous from the seemingly thousands of tiny razors lining her throat.

“Need some water, hon?” nurse Joy asked.

Fleetfoot managed the smallest of nods.

“Anything else?”

“Lights,” Fleetfoot rasped.

“Too bright?”

Fleetfoot nodded again.

“I’ll turn them down, honey; hold tight for me,” Joy said.

Fleetfoot could hear the clip-clop sound of hoofbeats retreating from her, though it seemed muted by the ache in her ears. The lights dimmed to the point where Fleetfoot could open her eyes. She whimpered; even the dim light made her ache. She couldn’t tell where she was, the world was just blurred out shapes and faded colors.

For a second time, Fleetfoot attempted to lift her hooves from the mattress, and again they stopped only inches from the sheets. This time, however, Fleetfoot could make out the distinct feeling of soft cuffs around her fetlocks; her heart skipped a beat.

The world vanished into a flash of blinding white light, a thunderous explosion overwhelmed her hearing, and her muscles seized up. She fell, her stomach doing flips with her equilibrium shattered. Years of training and primal instinct took control of her wings in an attempt to stall her momentum.

The hoofsteps returned and Fleetfoot felt a strong foreleg slide behind her head. The limb lifted her to an almost-sitting position before she felt a straw touch her mouth. She wrapped the straw between her lips, greedily sucking the cold water from the cup and down her throat. The process felt like torture. Fleetfoot’s throat burned enough to bring tears to her eyes. The more she drank, the less it hurt. Finally, after she had taken her fill of water, she released the straw and gasped for breath.

“Easy now, you’ve got some cracked ribs and more than a few bruises,” Joy said.

“W-where am I?” Fleetfoot asked again, her voice stronger than before.

“You’re in Manehattan General Hospital,” Joy answered.

“Why are my hooves tied down?”

“I’m very sorry about that honey, but you were having seizures when they brought you in; we had to restrain your hooves so you didn’t hurt yourself by accident.” Joy answered

She couldn’t tell how long she laid there gasping for breath as her vision slowly returned. She had no idea what had hit her, or how she had ended up on the ground. All she knew, was that her body ached, a constant ring filled her ears, and she couldn’t stop shaking.

“What happened?” Fleetfoot asked, wincing from the disjointed memory.

“We were hoping you could tell us,” Joy said, gently lowering Fleetfoot back down. “You were found unconscious in the street three days ago; some good samaritans brought you in. Is there anything you can remember? Anything at all?”

Her body ached, her wings hung limp from her sides, and her ears rang. Nearby she could see another mare, her sky-blue coat and rainbow mane dirty and charred. The mare was deathly still, and Fleetfoot felt a cold pit of horror fester in her gut.

“I... I need...” Fleetfoot’s words hitched for a moment, tears welling up in her eyes. She swallowed the lump in her throat and forced a trembling breath into her lungs. “I need to talk to security.”

“Why’s that, dear?” Joy asked, a kind hoof resting on Fleetfoot’s shoulder.

Fleetfoot’s face contorted in anguish, the tears staining her cheeks. “Because I think I killed somepony.”

From the large observation windows of the upper floors of Manehattan General Hospital, Arcus had a decent view of the city skyline. It wasn’t as good as a cloud level view, but some altitude was better than none in his opinion. He glanced down to the report in his hooves, his eyes rereading the content over and over again. Reaching up with a wing, he removed the pince-nez glasses from his snout and gently set them on the windowsill.

His ears twitched as he heard the door open, though he didn’t turn to see who was coming in; there was no need. He heard the tentative hoofsteps on the cold tile floor advance towards him; he kept his eyes forward. Arcus waited until the other pony’s steps came to a halt before he slowly turned around.

“Are you supposed to be up and about already?” he asked, his eyes taking in the mare before him. “You didn’t need to wear your dress blues.”

“I’m supposed to walk around as much as I can; they don’t want me to get a clot. As to the jacket, I had Rapid get it from my hotel, sir,” Spitfire replied.

Spitfire stood as straight as she could, the blue jacket of her dress uniform hanging loosely over her back. She extended her good wing, a plain white envelope held in her feathers. Arcus regarded the note with seeming indifference, making no move to take it.

“I’m guessing that’s—”

“My resignation, yes Sir,” Spitfire said, her voice bare of the authority and confidence Arcus was used to hearing her speak with.

“Enough with the ’Sir’, Spitfire. This conversation isn’t on the record,” Arcus held up his hoof and ignored the note, at least temporarily. “How are you feeling?”

“...I’ve been better,” she answered, careful to keep her tone neutral.

Arcus gave her a single nod, his own wing extending to take the note from her feathers.

“Please,” he motioned to one of the plush leather couches that lined the walls of the room. “Sit down.”

“I’d rather stand,” Spitfire insisted.

“You had major surgery three days ago and you’ve got a capped IV line in your foreleg, sit down before you aggravate your injuries any further,” Arcus said with the casual tone of a pony discussing gardening techniques.

Spitfire gritted her teeth, though did as she was asked. She didn’t want to admit it, but her wing ached terribly regardless she was standing, sitting, or laying. Even the hefty doses of painkillers they were feeding her every six hours did little to compensate. Arcus retrieved his glasses from the windowsill and placed them back on his snout. He paused for a breath and waited a moment longer before he sat beside her and opened the letter.

For several minutes the only sounds in the room were their breaths and the ticking of the wall clock. Spitfire forced herself to remain still and to keep her eyes on Arcus. She focused on his face, the carefully maintained mask of neutrality making it difficult to tell what he was thinking.

Her resignation read more like a personal confession since Spitfire had spared few details from Arcus. She told him that she had continued her relationship with Rainbow, that they had developed feelings for one another, and that she would not break it off until Rainbow wanted her too. She also confessed about her encounter with Fleetfoot, including the two unfettered punches that she had thrown in anger.

Finally he folded the letter back up and set it between them, his chin resting on his hooves.

“Is there anything else?” he asked in a hushed tone.

“No,” she answered, her ears folding back.

Arcus sighed, a hoof rubbing at the back of his head. “Did Triage speak to you about your wing?”

“Huh?” the question surprised Spitfire and all too soon a melancholic cloud formed over the recovering mare. “Yeah... yeah he did. He said he gave you the full report as well.”

“He did,” Arcus confirmed with a nod. “How are you coping?”

“The morphine helps,” she answered with a bitter scoff.

Arcus nodded slowly. “I can’t imagine—”

“Please,” Spitfire interrupted, it was all she could do to restrain the sorrow in her voice. “Please, don’t do that. I don’t want sympathy.”

“I understand,” Arcus replied in a quiet tone.

Silence filled the room, broken only by the ticking of the clock.

Spitfire rubbed her face, her hoof covering her mouth for a moment. The gravity of her situation hitting her for the first time. She smiled sadly and took a deep breath.

“I’m gonna miss this,” she said with a tired laugh, pools of tears swelling in her golden eyes.

Arcus loosed a weary sigh. “This is where we have a slight problem, Spitfire.”

“What?” she asked, looking to Arcus in bewilderment.

Reaching out with his left wing, Arcus dipped his dexterous feathers into his plain black saddlebag. After a moment he retrieved a plain manilla folder stuffed with a small stack of newspaper clippings.

“When something this... big happens, there’s no stopping the media from getting their hooves on it. And when somepony with national importance is involved, such as an Element of Harmony, then things get... complicated.” Arcus paused for a moment, taking several clippings in his primaries. “Your actions, however, have gotten noticed.”

Spitfire couldn’t stop her eyebrows from arching up in surprise at the paper Arcus was showing her. Every clipping was about her quick ‘rescue’ of Rainbow Dash, as well as Soarin’, Rapid, and Misty’s efforts in assisting the shattered weather team. Misty and Soarin’ had achieved a hefty dose of praise as well for their efforts in providing first aid and leadership when they arrived.

“Believe it or not, but Red Top is leading the charge for you in the press,” Arcus continued, pulling a clipping from the Enquirer from his stack. “Seems that even bottom feeders like him have a bit of conscience from time to time. You should read the article, it’s a rather flattering puff piece for you saving Rainbow’s life.” Arcus couldn’t resist a smirk. “Careful Spitfire, he might have a thing for you.”

Spitfire’s face turned red in a mixture of embarrassment and rage. Arcus chuckled quietly, earning a halfhearted punch on the shoulder from Spitfire. Arcus only laughed harder, earning another punch from Spitfire.

“Not. Funny.” Spitfire huffed, folding her forelegs across her chest.

“I beg to differ,” Arcus countered.

Spitfire groaned, rubbing her face with a hoof.

“So, Spitfire, here’s the plan,” Acrus began, tearing her resignation in half.

Spitfire’s jaw dropped and her eyes went wide. “What are you—”

“You can’t resign,” Arcus said, tearing the letter again, “nor can I fire you without triggering a media circus that nopony wants. That said, you can’t reclaim your position as team captain due to your injury and the situation between you and Fleetfoot. So what we’re going to do is have a big public ceremony where we will praise your heroics, pin a medal to your chest, and give you a promotion.”

“A what?!” Spitfire balked.

“You will be promoted to the supervisor of The Wonderbolts Academy, and after a year or two you can quietly retire your commision to pursue ‘other interests’.” Arcus explained making air quotes with his front hooves.

“There is no supervisor for the Academy!” Spitfire argued, “the whole thing is just a PR stunt!”

“Well then, congratulations on being the first.”

“I’d rather you just fired me,” Spitfire moaned, her hoof pressing against her forehead as she fought off a bout of nausea. “It’d be less degrading than signing posters and dealing with a bunch of arrogant greenwings."

“I recall you being a pretty arrogant greenwing once upon a time,” Arcus said, closing his folder and slipping it back into his saddlebag. “This is the best solution we have right now.”

Spitfire sighed, slowly shaking her head side to side. “Have we found Fleetfoot yet?”

“No,” Arcus answered. “When’s the last time anypony saw her?”

“Four days ago for me,” Spitfire answered, “I’m worried about her.”

“That makes two of us,” Arcus said, “I’ll put out a missing pony report this afternoon if we don’t hear anything.”

Spitfire nodded slowly. “Have, um... have you heard anything about Rainbow? They wouldn’t tell me anything.”

Arcus sighed. “I know she’s alive, but that’s about it.”

Spitfire rubbed her hooves together, her heart fluttering in her chest. “I... I don’t suppose I could see her?”

“You can ask her father,” Arcus said, putting his glasses and his papers in his saddlebag. Slipping off the couch, he unfolded his wings and shook a few loose feathers out before getting his saddlebags on. “They’re in room four-twelve. Though he didn’t seem too keen on visitors yesterday.”

A thousand questions ran through Spitfire’s mind. How serious were Rainbow’s injuries? What had happened to her? Would she be okay?

“Spitfire,” Arcus said, his tone catching snapping her free of her concerns.

“Hm?”

“You might have ignored me when I told you to end the relationship, but if he tells you to leave her alone, then you damned well better listen.”

Spitfire nodded slowly, biting her tongue and avoid Arcus’ gaze.

“I’ll check on you later tonight; I have a press conference to prepare for. Anything you need?” he asked.

Spitfire slid off the couch, wincing from a stab of pain in her wing. “I’ll be fine, thanks.”

Arcus nodded once before trotting out of the room, the door clicking shut behind him. Spitfire took a deep breath and rubbed her chest with her hoof. She took a moment to compose herself before leaving the room as well.

Stepping into the sparse hallway, she took a few moments to orient herself. The lounge Arcus had picked was on the hospital’s top floor. He had picked it as a courtesy, her own room was on the same floor, though the opposite side. Rainbow had been placed four flights down, though Spitfire could only guess why. Without a second thought she made for the stairwell.

No matter how slow she moved or how careful she was, each step was a small jolt to her wing, and each jolt was a small torture session. By the time she had made it down one flight of stairs she had to stop and lean against the wall to catch her breath. Her wing, bound in a heavy plaster cast that was secured to her body with thick gauze wrapping felt as though it was on fire.

“Come on,” she hissed through gritted teeth, “come on. You can do this.”

Fifteen minutes later, Spitfire found herself on the fourth floor. She was tired, out of breath, and her wing ached terribly, but she had made it. She also resolved to take the elevator back to her room rather than attempt the walk up.

After catching her breath, she took a moment to orient herself on the new floor; it was laid out in a very open style with the nurses station and several small sitting areas occupying the center of the space. Patient rooms formed the outer ring of the floor, each with a clearly marked nametag and number posted for nurses and visitors to see.

Spitfire spotted a pair of security ponies wandering around as well. She wondered if the security was for Rainbow, or if the hospital kept them on staff for a different reason. Pushing those questions from her mind, Spitfire walked forward anxious to find room four-twelve.

Fortunately for her, the stairwell had exited right beside room four hundred. And, without too much effort, she soon found herself standing in front of the closed door marked four-twelve. The placard stuck next to the door held a simple slip of white paper with the name R. Dash written in black marker.

Spitfire lifted a hoof to knock, but stopped when she heard a stallion’s voice singing through the door.

“Red is the rose that in yonder garden grows,

fair is the lily of the valley

clear is the water that flows through the boyne

but my love is fairer than any.”

Biting her lip anxiously, Spitfire knocked on the door. The gentle tap of her hoof didn’t seem to catch the singer’s attention as he began the next verse.

“T’is not for the parting with my sister Kate

Tis not for the grief of my mother

Tis all for the loss of my bonnie Mareish lass

that my heart is breaking forever

Spitfire took a breath and knocked again. When the stallion didn’t reply, she pushed the door open just enough to poke her head in.

A stab of pain went through her heart as her eyes fell upon Rainbow. Most of her body was hidden by the clean white sheets covering her up to the neck. A clear plastic mask sat over Rainbow’s mouth and nose feeding her oxygen. Beside the bed, seated in a plush blue recliner was the singer. His hoof gently stroked Rainbow’s mane .

“Um, excuse me?” Spitfire said in a gentle tone.

The stallion jumped in surprise, his eyes quickly settling on Spitfire and his hoof moving from Rainbow’s mane to his chest. “Celestia’s sacred snatch, you startled me!”

Spitfire blushed from the stallions... creative language. “I, uh, sorry about that. I’m—”

“Spitfire, yeah, I know who you are,” he said, standing to greet her. “Please, come in. I wanted to thank you for what you did.”

Spitfire’s blush only deepened as she pushed into the room, closing the door behind her. “It was nothing, really.”

“You saved my daughter’s life,” he said, moving around the bed until he was standing in front of Spitfire. She could see the bags under his eyes as well as the faded tear stains. “To me, that’s everything.”

“Really, I—” Spitfire gasped in surprise when Rainbow’s father pulled her into a tight hug.

“Thank you,” he whispered, “thank you so much.”

“Y-you’re welcome, um, mister?”

“Bifrost,” he introduced himself, releasing Spitfire from his grip.

“Bifrost, right,” Spitfire couldn’t help a nervous laugh, “I, uh, this isn’t how I hoped to meet you.”

“Can’t imagine why a Wonderbolt would want to meet an old fart like me,” he commented.

Spitfire suddenly hoped her father never met Bifrost. The world couldn’t possibly handle those two stallions in the same room. “I... well, I don’t really know how to put this, so I’ll just say it. Rainbow and I have been dating about since she got to Manehattan.”

The information seemed to momentarily stun Bifrost. After the initial surprise wore off, his friendly smile vanished behind a cautious expression. “Is this a serious relationship?”

Spitfire looked past Bifrost to Rainbow, her expression shifting to a sad smile. “Yes.”

Bifrost watched her closely for a long moment before he began to chuckle lightly. Noticing Spitfire’s confused look he held up a hoof. “Sorry, it’s just that last week I got a letter from Rainbow telling me how her trip here was going so far. It was mostly about the weather team and the storm schedule, but at the end of the letter, at the end she mentioned that she was finally seeing somepony. She seemed, well, happy.”

Spitfire blushed, though the comment made her heart flutter and her smile blossom.

“Have a seat, stay a while,” Bifrost said, motioning to his abandoned chair with a hoof.

“I-I don’t want to intrude, I just needed to see if she was okay,” Spitfire said, her eyes following Bifrost as he returned to the side of the bed.

“The lightning caused some significant burns and probably some nerve damage; we’ll have to see when she wakes up, and she will wake up,” Bifrost insisted, his hoof gently brushing a stray tuft of mane from Rainbow’s face. “Rainbow’s got a good resistance to lightning, so the real damage was from the fall. I’m sure you know plenty about fall injuries, though.”

“I’ve seen my share, and had a few of my own,” Spitfire answered, her mouth feeling dry.

“Rainbow’s got some broken ribs, a broken wing, collapsed lung, and the impact caused a lot of internal bleeding. The doctor told me they spent eight hours in surgery repairing liver and kidney damage.” He paused to take a shaky breath, his right hoof nervously rubbing his face. “But my girl is tough, and she’ll pull through this. She’ll pull through.”

“Has she said what happened yet?” Spitfire asked.

“She hasn’t woken up yet,” Bifrost answered, his heart aching at the sight of his daughter. “They had her on a ventilator when I got here. Pulled the tube a couple hours ago. So far she’s been breathing okay on her own.”

Spitfire could only nod, and after a few moments, she silently accepted Bifrost’s offer to stay. Trotting slowly around the bed, she climbed into the chair, biting back a particularly sharp stab of pain from her efforts.

“You okay?” he asked.

“I’m fine, thanks,” she answered, forcing a smile. “That was a beautiful song you were singing when I came in.”

“It was her mother’s favorite song, after she passed.” He paused to take a breath, the old wound still raw enough to hurt. “I, uh... I took to singing it to Rainbow every night as a lullaby.”

“Rainbow mentioned she never really knew her mother,” Spitfire said.

“No, no she didn’t,” he answered simply, his tone making it clear he wanted to avoid the topic for as long as possible. Spitfire couldn’t really blame him for that.

“How did you two meet?” he asked.

“I ran into her at a cafe and we started hanging out. Then, you know, one thing led to another and we just got, well... close.”

Bifrost chuckled. “You know, when she was really little, I used to have this little fantasy where her first coltfriend would come over to pick her up, and while Rainbow would be in the bathroom getting ready I could sit him down in the kitchen and sharpen the biggest knife I could find while asking ‘what are your intentions with my daughter?’.”

Spitfire smiled. “My dad used to say the same thing.”

“It’s a father thing,” Bifrost said with a shrug.

After a few minutes of silence between the two, Bifrost rubbed his eyes against his left fetlock while doing his best to stave off an exhausted yawn. The action didn’t go unnoticed by Spitfire who levelled a concerned frown to the older stallion. As his hoof lowered back to the bed she could see the bags under his eyes and she wondered how long it had been since he had slept.

“If you want to get some coffee I could stay here and keep an eye on things,” she offered, a small, hopeful smile on her lips.

The stallion considered the offer for a moment; his eyes shifting from Spitfire, to Rainbow, and back agains. Finally, with a simple nod, he turned towards the door.

“You want some?” he asked.

“No, thats alright. I don’t have any money on me right now anyway.”

“You saved my baby’s life, and you’re her marefriend,” Bifrost observed, a kind smile on his lips. “I think I can buy you a coffee for that.”

“T-thank you.”

Bifrost nodded once before he slipped out of the room, leaving Spitfire alone with Rainbow. Spitfire lifted her right hoof from the floor and reached toward Rainbow. She hesitated for a moment before bringing her hoof to rest on Rainbow’s forehead as gently as she could. Spitfire couldn’t recall ever feeling so relieved to feel the heat of fever on another pony; it meant that Rainbow was still alive, and her body was fighting hard to stay that way.

“Crazy week, Dash,” Spitfire said, a sad smile on her lips. “Really crazy week.”

“I’m, um... I’m not a Wonderbolt anymore, well, not really. They’re gonna promote me to a desk job for a while, then quietly let me go once this whole fiasco is forgotten about. Probably for the best though.” She paused for a moment, her eyes clouding with tears. “The team is in good hooves; Soarin’ knows what he’s doing, and Rapid will grow into the job eventually. And on the plus side I’ll get to spend more time with you.

“I might never fly again, Dash... I’ll certainly never be able to fly like I used to. But... but it was worth it, for you.”

Spitfire leaned down, her lips gently kissing Rainbow’s forehead, even after the kiss ended, she didn’t pull away. Her tears dripped onto Rainbow’s brow, soaking into the sky blue coat.

“I do love you, Rainbow Dash, and I’m so sorry I didn’t tell you that morning before you left,” Spitfire whispered, taking Rainbow’s hoof in her own. “I promise, when you wake up, I’m never gonna make that mistake again. And you damn well better wake up, cause if you die, I’ll kick your ass.”

The Breaking Clouds

“Must we really do this?” a mare’s voice asked, keeping a wary lookout for any passing pony that might stumble across them.

“This is an exceptional circumstance,” another mare answered, her eyes scanning through a patient folder with the the name “Fleetfoot” written on the label.

The smaller mare sighed, a hoof rubbing the back of her neck. She was an average sized unicorn with a periwinkle blue mane and a deep sapphire coat. Her cutie mark was hidden under a plain white doctor’s jacket that her... companion had ‘borrowed’ from the doctor’s lounge.

Her eyes, a rich cyan color, cautiously scanned the hallway for any sign that they had been noticed. She didn’t expect anypony would notice them, the illusion spell that emanated from her horn would only be disrupted if somepony was within a few inches of them. Though given that they were currently reading through the files of everypony injured during the weather incident, being discovered was the last thing the sapphire mare wanted.

Her companion was tall for a mare, standing a few inches over a fair number of stallions. Her alabaster coat and flowing pink mane had, as per usual, been groomed to perfection, though the white jacket hid most of it from view.

“We...I feel so,” the first mare’s voice faltered as she considered the correct parlance, “I feel so diminished like this.”

“I know, and I am sorry,” the second mare apologized, her attention never leaving the folder held in the golden aura of her horn. “But this is for the best, trust me.”

“I dislike hiding like this.”

“If it weren’t for the transformation spell, then we would attract far too much attention, Luna. The last thing anypony needs to see right now is us trotting about and causing a fuss.”

“It could be argued, Tia, that this discretion will not make our task any simpler.” Luna said.

“If there’s one thing I’ve learned over the centuries, Luna, it’s that ponies are much more likely to exaggerate or outright lie to us if they think it will hide a mistake or failing on their part. They want so badly to impress us that they become blind to our desire for honesty first. We may have to take things a little less directly in these illusions, but the end result will gain us more accurate information.” Celestia explained, closing the folder and slipping it back into the file cabinet she found it in. “Besides, isn’t this more fun than being cooped up in the palace all day?”

“I will admit it is not an... undesirable change of pace.” Luna agreed, looking over her shoulder at a passing nurse who wandered almost too close to her spell. “Have you found what you were looking for?”

“I believe I have a good lead,” Celestia answered. “Come, Luna, we have work to do.”

“Where are we going?”

“Upstairs,” Celestia said, adjusting the lapels on her white jacket.

Luna nodded, focusing her spell so that the illusion slowly enclosed on them until they were again visible to the common ponies wandering the halls. With enough concentration, nopony even noticed that the two previously unseen mares were now walking amongst them. Sometimes, Luna pitied the simple ponies of Equestria. Then again, they had far less to worry about than her or Celestia did, so perhaps there was something to be envied about the simple life.

“I wonder if the other elements have arrived yet, surely the news of Miss Dash’s injuries has reached Ponyville by now,” Luna mused, keeping her voice hushed enough so only Celestia could hear her comments.

“I should think not, actually.”

“What do you mean, Tia?” Luna asked, her brows furrowing together in confusion. “Miss Dash is a dear friend, is she not?”

“Most certainly, however I spoke with the Postmaster General and Secretary Foresight—the Stalliongradian, you remember?—right after we got the news and had them ensure that certain pieces of information would be delayed. It seems that the train that carries the mail to Ponyville was in dire need of maintenance. That buys us another day or two at most before Ponyville even learns about the accident, and another two or three days before they could arrive here by train.”

Luna’s jaw dropped for a moment before she recovered her sense of decorum enough to close it. After a quick glance to confirm nopony was staring at them, Luna pulled Celestia into an empty room.

“What in the world are you doing, Tia?” she demanded. “Thou can’t forestall her friends from learning of her fate!”

“Luna, calm down,” Celestia said, resting a hoof on the smaller mare’s shoulder.

“I am quite calm!” Luna insisted, pushing the offending hoof away. “I simply need to know why thoust—”

“Language, Luna.”

Luna groaned. “Why you are taking such unprecedented measures to keep the other Elements away?”

Celestia took a deep breath, a faint sadness passing over her face. “As silly as this might sound, Luna, I just don’t want to see them unhappy. And I certainly don’t want them to learn about something like this from a newspaper. No, when the time comes, I will personally tell them the news.”

“You shall? Even if the worst were to happen?”

“Especially then,” Celestia said with a grim resolve.

Luna sighed, rubbing at her eyes with a hoof. “I shall accompany you then.”

Celestia allowed herself a small smile, leaning over to lightly hug her sister. “There’s nopony I would rather have by my side, Luna.”

Arcus allowed himself a single relieved sigh as he settled into one of the more comfortable armchairs he could find. Of the many sitting spaces the hospital provided, few were as comfortable, or secluded, as the chairs in the spinal care clinic. Arcus briefly noted the irony of that fact, but was too tired from his excruciating press conference to find any amusement in it.

The press had been nothing less than a nightmare since he had gotten the news of Spitfire and Rainbow’s injuries. He had found out about the accident only when his grandchildren woke him up wondering why a horde of press ponies was loitering on his front porch several days earlier.

Never, in all Arcus’ years of managing the Wonderbolts, had he been forced to issue a blanket ‘we have no comment at this time,’ statement to the press. It was nothing less than humiliating for the greying stallion. Worse still to the proud stallion was that he had been forced to get most of his information from the same papers that were hounding him.

Adding to his ever expanding stack of problems was Fleetfoot. Specifically, the distinct lack of Fleetfoot since her... altercation with Spitfire. He hoped that his concerns were unfounded; that Fleetfoot had merely taken a long flight to Neighagara Falls to calm down. Or maybe she was visiting friends in Baltimare and simply forgot to leave a note.

Arcus scoffed in irritation. He struggled to recall the last time he had hoped for something so naive. Precious few things ever worked out that nicely when Wonderbolts were involved. All Arcus could do was hope Fleetfoot turned up on her own, and that she wouldn’t be added to his current ‘problems’ file.

“Somedays I wonder why I didn’t retire,” he mumbled to the ceiling tiles.

Exhaling a deep breath, Arcus closed his eyes and allowed himself a moment of relaxation. He would figure out the next step after a short rest. He let his mind drift, free of all his thoughts and concerns, and for a moment, he felt the warm embrace of sleep call to him. Then a hoof knocked on the door frame.

Arcus bit back a frustrated groan as he sat up, a hoof rubbing his eyes. Looking to the door, he spotted the pony responsible for the interruption. Staring at him with bright blue eyes and an obnoxiously happy smile was a peach coated earth pony mare with a vivid red mane. Sitting on top of her head was a white nurses cap with a red cross emblazoned on the front.

“Can I help you, Ma’am?” he asked

“You’re Arcus, right?”

“Yes, and you are...”

“I’m Nurse Joy,” she answered, her smile never faltering. “Do you know a mare named Fleetfoot, by chance?”

His eyes widened for a moment before he regained his composure. “I do, have you found her?”

“Yes, she was brought in a few days ago—”

“Well how is—” He blinked, head tilting sideways as his eyebrows narrowed. “... Wait... wait, you’re shitting me, aren’t you?” he snorted and shook his head, rolling his eyes. “Good one.”

Joy’s smile disappeared to an angry frown, not unlike the kind used by a strict grandmother. It sent a shiver through Arcus. “I do not appreciate that tone or that language in here, sir.”

“Er... I-I’m sorry,” Arcus uttered, doing his best not to wilt under the mare’s gaze.

Her smile returned almost instantly. “Apology accepted!”

Arcus took a moment to swallow the knot in his throat before hopping out of the armchair. “How is she?”

“Physically, her biggest problem is a few broken ribs. There’s also signs of shock trauma like we saw in some of the weather team, but that’s not why I’m here.” Joy explained, biting her lip anxiously.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, careful to keep his tone soft.

“She’s... well, maybe it’s best if you just come with me. She’s been asking for you anyway.”

Arcus nodded, pulling his saddlebag onto his back and shaking his wings out. Several loose feathers fell from his wings and drifted to the floor. Arcus didn’t even notice them, though Joy very much did.

“You know we really prefer pegasi clean up their own feathers,” Nurse Joy said, frowning at Arcus like a disappointed parent.

Arcus felt his brain temporarily stall out, his eyes staring at the young mare in front of him. Slowly he turned to look at the smattering of feathers that he had so casually discarded. He let out a sheepish laugh and rubbed the back of his neck with a hoof.

“Sorry, I, uh, just back from Cloudsdale, we never really notice them there.”

Joy sighed, shaking her head slowly. “If you would please clean those up first, then I’ll take you downstairs.

“Of course, and I apologize.” Arcus said, giving the mare a polite bow.

Quickly plucking the few feathers off the floor, he tossed them in the wastebin that sat beside the armchair. Joy nodded in satisfaction, motioning for Arcus to follow her.

“You should be careful where you leave your feathers,” she said as they entered the hallway, “some places will charge you five to ten bits for doing that.”

Arcus bit his tongue and forced a curt nod. Sometimes, just sometimes, he really hated terrestrial ponies.

“Which room are we looking for, Tia?”

“Three-fourteen, and remember, it’s ‘Sunny’ when we are like this.”

Luna mumbled quietly, her eyes reading the numbers on the room doors. She stopped when she noticed a familiar looking stallion being escorted by a younger mare.

“T... Sunny,” Luna began, struggling to restrain her eyes from rolling too much, “that stallion o’er there, does he not look familiar?”

Celestia turned from the door she had been looking at, her eyes scanning the hall until she spotted him as well. “Ah yes, that’s the stallion who runs the Wonderbolts... Oh, bother, what was his name?”

“Arceus?” Luna suggested.

“No, no, that was a character from that foals game that you were reading about,” Celestia scratched her chin for a moment before the realization clicked. “Aha! Arcus, that was it!”

“It seems he’s heading for the same room we are,” Luna noted.

Celestia hummed softly. “I think we can work with that.”

Luna furrowed her brows, curious what the elder alicorn had in mind. Without another word, Celestia trotted down the hall at a brisk pace, Luna in tow. Once they had gotten close enough for both Arcus and the nurse to notice them, Celestia spoke.

“Excuse me,” she began, directing a warm smile to the old stallion. “You are Arcus, correct?”

“Yes ma’am, can I help you?” Arcus replied on instinct.

“My name is Sunny Days,” she introduced herself with a warm smile before motioning a hoof to the smaller unicorn behind her. “This is my assistant, Aurora.”

“Pleasure to meet you both,” Arcus said, giving both mares a polite bow of his head. “Is there something I can help you with?”

“Yes, actually, would I be correct in assuming you are here to speak with a mare named Fleetfoot?” Sunny asked.

“I might, why do you ask?”

“My assistant and I would like to join you for this conversation,” Sunny said, motioning to the smaller unicorn with a hoof.

“I apologize ma’am, but this is a confidential matter,” the old stallion answered. “Is there some medical concern with Fleetfoot that I should be aware of?”

Sunny’s smile faltered for a moment. “No, no I don’t believe so.”

Aurora subtly rolled her eyes, seemingly annoyed by the whole conversation. The minute gesture didn’t escape the sharp eyes of a pegasus like Arcus.

“Are either of you doctors here?”

“No, but—”

“Do you recognize either of these mares?” Arcus asked Joy.

“No, no I don’t,” she answered, an equally wary look on her face.

“You’re with the press, aren’t you?” Arcus said, his tone making it clear that it was more of an accusation than a question.

Sunny’s pleasant smile turned to a sour frown from the insinuation.

Arcus scowled. “You should both be ashamed of yourselves, sneaking into hospitals for a headline or a perverse picture.”

“We did no such—”

“Who hired you? Red Top? Some other bottom-feeding muckraker looking to make a quick bit,” Arcus practically hissed, his feathers puffing out as his wings unfurled slightly. “You should both be ashamed of yourselves.”

Sunny’s eye twitched. “That is quite enough.”

Leaning down so her lips were level with his left ear, ‘Sunny’ began to whisper. From her position, leaning against the wall, Aurora observed the scene with muted interest. She tried not to chuckle when the slow dawn of horror spread over the old stallion’s face.

“I... I’m...” he stuttered, his face noticeably paler than it had been moments earlier.

“Hush now, my little pony. You didn’t know.” Celestia said, her kind smile once again gracing her face.

Arcus managed a nod, clearing his throat he look to Nurse Joy. “Thank you, miss, for showing me down here. If you don’t mind, we need a few minutes in private.”

Joy nodded slowly, still keeping a wary eye on the two unicorns. “I’ll be just outside the door.”

Still trembling, Arcus motioned for Sunny and Aurora to enter first. Sunny gave the door a gentle knock before she pushed it open and trotted inside, Aurora following close behind. Arcus hesitated before following, taking a few deep breaths to calm down.

Sometimes he really regretted not retiring.

Fleetfoot’s room was textbook standard by any definition. The standard bed was placed in the standard corner and dressed with the standard white sheets. The walls, window dressings, and even the armchair beside the bed fared no better in comparison. Celestia, Luna, and Arcus found themselves wondering how more ponies didn’t go insane trapped in such a room.

Fleetfoot herself had been listening to the radio news when they entered. Though the distant look in her eyes and the tear streaks down her face were more than enough to make a pony question how much Fleetfoot was actually aware of her own surroundings. It took a moment for her to notice the three new ponies in the room and snap back to reality.

“A-Arcus,” she whispered, her ears folding back.

“Hello, Fleetfoot,” he greeted her warmly, “we’ve been looking for you for a few days now. You had us all worried.”

Fleetfoot nodded a little. “Sorry.”

Arcus cleared his throat and motioned to the two unicorns in the room. “Fleetfoot, this is Sunny and Aurora, they’re from Canterlot.”

“Hello, my little pony,” Sunny began, a motherly smile on her lips and a soothing tone to her voice. Her sense of calm was tangible, and Fleetfoot felt her mind relax from the mere presence of the tall mare. “How are you feeling?”

“Better, I guess,” Fleetfoot answered, her eyes drifting from Arcus to the two unicorns . “Are... are you with the Guard?”

Sunny gave a gentle chuckle and slow shake of her head. “No dear, we’re just here to ask you some questions.”

“You should get the guard,” Fleetfoot whimpered, her eyes filling with tears.

“Why’s that, dear?” Sunny asked, moving closer to the bedridden pegasus.

Fleetfoot nodded, sniffling and wiping her eyes with a hoof. “I... I think I killed Rainbow Dash.”

Arcus felt his heart skip a beat and his blood pressure skyrocket. A quick glare from Sunny was all it took to keep him quiet though.

“Miss Dash is quite alive, at least for the time being,” Aurora spoke up.

“S-she is?” Fleetfoot asked, tears dripping down her cheeks. Arcus could see the faintest glimmer of hope in her eyes.

“Yes, she is,” Sunny confirmed with a nod, her horn flaring to life in a golden glow. She pulled several tissues from a box beside the bed and, holding them in her magic aura, she gently wiped the tears from Fleetfoot’s eyes and dabbed her nose. “She is very grievously injured, though, and we need to know how that happened.”

“We have interviewed the entire weather team already,” Aurora said, pacing closer to Fleetfoot and subtly pushing Arcus out of the way. “None of them could explain how Miss Dash acquired her injuries. We hoped you could shed further light on the issue.”

“It...it’s my fault,” Fleetfoot whispered, a fresh wave of tears leaking down her cheeks.

“What happened, Fleetfoot?” Arcus asked.

Fleetfoot sucked a sharp breath into her mouth, pressing her hooves over her eyes.

“Fleetfoot, nopony’s mad at you,” Arcus lied, “we just need to know what happened. Please, talk to us.”

Fleetfoot managed a nod, swallowing another breath and doing her best to calm down. “I... I was really worked up about some things, and... and I went for a morning flight. My apartment isn’t too far from the weather area, so I usually pass through on my route. Well... t-that morning I saw Rainbow Dash and stopped to talk to her.”

“What was she doing? Were there any other ponies around?” Sunny asked, her attention fully focused on Fleetfoot.

“She was sitting on a small cloud, I landed on the other end and we talked for a bit.”

“What about?” Aurora asked, making notes in a small pad of paper, a pencil held in her magic.

“I wanted to ask her about the Rainboom,” Fleetfoot answered. Sunny shot Arcus a stern glare. “I asked her why she wouldn’t teach us the rainboom, and we argued for a bit. Then... then I jumped off the cloud and there was this loud bang.” Fleetfoot shuddered, her hooves rubbing at her face. “I don’t know what happened. Everything hurt, and... and Rainbow wasn’t moving. I went to get help! I swear I tried! But... but I don’t remember anything until I woke up here!”

“Fleetfoot, what kind of cloud was it?” Arcus asked, his anxious tone making both Sunny and Aurora focus their attentions on him. “What did it look like?”

Fleetfoot’s eyebrows scrunched together as she struggled to find the details in her mind. “Grey I think... I dunno. There were lots of grey clouds.”

“Thunderheads,” Arcus whispered, taking a step back. “That’s gotta be what did it.”

“Fleetfoot,” Sunny began, offering the weeping mare some fresh tissues. “when Rainbow Dash wakes up, we will listen to her version of events as well. Is there anything you aren’t telling us?”

Fleetfoot slowly shook her head, her ears folded and her eyes downcast. Celestia could scarcely recall the last time she had beheld such a broken looking mare. It pained her to see any of her little ponies so distraught. Still, the truth had to be found, no matter how painful it might be. Celestia could only hope things would work out for the best.

Despite what the citizens of Equestria liked to believe, there was no such thing as miracles.

“We shall speak again soon,” Sunny promised, reassuringly patting Fleetfoot’s shoulder. “Until then rest and heal.”

Fleetfoot nodded. As the three began to leave, she thought of one last thing to say.

“Hey, Arcus?”

“Yes?”

“Can I get some paper? I... I wanna have my resignation ready before I hurt the team any worse.”

Arcus sighed sadly before nodding. “I’ll get it for you, Fleetfoot.”

“So why aren’t you plugged back into the baggy?” Rapid asked, using his dexterous primaries to

pull a card from the deck sitting between him and Spitfire.

“They said as long I can keep down liquids and light food, and I don’t overstress myself, then I don’t have to be on it. They are gonna leave the IV in until I’m discharged though.” Spitfire answered, her eyes focused on the cards held in her good wing.

“How’s it feel?”

“...Itchy.”

Rapid scoffed and nodded. “Are you gonna go back downstairs and see Rainbow again?”

“Yeah, I just needed to rest for a bit and get another dose of morphine.” Spitfire grimaced.

“She awake yet?”

Spitfire’s posture deflated, her face pulling into a sad frown. “No. I’m worried about her.”

“She’s a tough girl, she’ll be fine.” Rapid assured her. “Got any kings?”

“Go fish.”

A soft knock on the pulled both Spitfire and Rapid’s attentions to the door. To their surprise they saw a beleaguered looking Soarin’ leaning over the threshold, a grim look on his face, his eyes fixated on the cold tile floor. The twins exchanged a nervous glance.

“Hey, Mallow,” Rapid said.

“What’s wrong?” Spitfire asked at the same time.

Soarin’ kept his eyes on the floor. “Well, I went to ask Bifrost if he needed anything and to ask how Rainbow was doing,”

“What. Happened.” Spitfire growled, trying her best to sit up inspite of the pain.

Silence filled the room, tension filling the air like the weight of the ocean.

“She’s, um...” He paused, taking a deep breath.

Spitfire bit her lip, her unwavering attention fixated on Soarin’. She didn’t realize she was holding her breath until her lungs started to burn.

“She’s awake!” he exclaimed with a bright grin.

“W-what?” Spitfire whispered, as the revelation hit her like a freight train.

“Yep, I was there when she opened her eyes.” Soarin’ boasted, allowing himself a small puff of pride.

“Well... I mean...” Spitfire huffed, folding her forelegs across her chest. “That’s just not fair. I wanted to be there when she woke up.”

“I have that effect on mares,” Soarin’ preened, casually polishing his hoof on his chest.

“Did she say anything?” Spitfire asked, hope sparkling in her eyes.

Soarin’ hummed for a moment, his hoof rubbing his chin. “There was some stuff to her dad, compliments on my stunning good looks, and oh yeah, she asked for you.”

Spitfire grunted as she pushed herself into a fully upright position, the sudden motion earning her a sharp burst of pain. She gritted her teeth and ignored it, instead focusing on getting off the bed. Rainbow was calling for her, and not even Celestia herself would stop Spitfire from seeing her again.

“Easy, Spits,” Rapid said, helping her off the bed so she wouldn’t jar her wing too badly.

“Thanks,” she grunted.

Once her hooves were back on solid ground, Spitfire stood still for a few moments to catch her breath and wait for the pain to ease. When it was at a manageable level she marched for the door, and Soarin’ stepped aside to give her enough space to get through without bumping the heavy cast. She stopped alongside him and gave the large stallion a hug.

“Thanks for telling me.”

Soarin’ shrugged, careful to not touch her wing as he returned the hug. “You’d better get going. Bifrost is trying to figure out if he can sneak her back to Cloudsdale without anypony noticing she’s gone.”

Spitfire snickered and nodded. “You guys coming?”

“Nah, we’ll let you be,” Soarin’ answered, an evil smirk creeping onto his lips. “Besides, poor little Rapid here would just faint like a filly if he sets a hoof in that room.”

“Oh, screw you!” Rapid shouted, making an obscene gesture at Soarin’.

Spitfire’s snort of laughter quickly turned to a cringe of pain. “Ow, don’t make me laugh.”

“It’s okay, honey, you’ll be a big colt someday,” Soarin’ chided Rapid with a wink.

“Uhhg, too much male bonding in here,” Spitfire groaned, giving them a playful roll of her eyes.

“Need help getting down there?”

“Nah, I got it.” Spitfire smiled with excitement. “You boys have fun, don’t make a mess of my bed.”

There was a loud smack as Soarin’s hoof met his forehead.

Rapidfire trotted up beside Soarin’, who slipped into the room once Spitfire had passed.

“You suck,” he grumbled.

“You swallow,” Soarin’ shot back with a giggle.

His eye twitching, Rapid waited until his sister was out of sight before pushing the door shut. Without further warning, he spun around and swung his hoof at Soarin’s face.

Soarin’ managed a curse as he ducked the blow, his wings flaring out for balance. “What the hay, Rapid?!”

“Shut up and hold still, I’m gonna kick your stupid flank!” Rapid growled, striking out with his left foreleg.

Folding his left wing, Soarin’ rolled to the side, springing up just out of Rapid’s range. “It’s not my fault you’re squeamish!”

“Shut up!”

Ducking another blow, Soarin’ spun low, his left foreleg sweeping under Rapid and knocking him off his hooves. Before he could regain his footing, Soarin’ threw himself onto Rapid’s back, using his weight to hold the smaller stallion in place.

“Get offa’ me!”

“Sure, when you’re not gonna take a swing at me again!”

Arcus trotted up to Spitfire’s room, his mind reeling from the conversation with Celestia and Luna. Before he spoke with Rainbow Dash, he had a few things he needed to clear up with Spitfire. Lifting a hoof to knock on the door, he froze when he heard voices shouting from inside.

“Hey-OW! NO BITING!”

“You started it!”

“Like hell I did!”

“Get off me!”

“Dammit, hold still and calm down!”

Without thinking, Arcus pushed the door open.

“Spitfire? Is ev—” Arcus’ words died on his tongue when he got a good look at the two stallions on the floor.

Rapidfire was on his stomach, pinned down by Soarin’. The sky-blue stallion was straddling Rapid’s backside while his front hooves held Rapid’s against the floor. Both stallions stared at him like a pair of stunned deer.

A particularly pregnant pause filled the room until Rapidfire broke the silence.

“This is exactly what it looks like.”

“WHAT?!” Soarin’ shouted.

Arcus slammed the door shut and walked away. He needed a drink.

The Worst Day Since Yesterday

“Please, sir, I promise we won’t be long. There’s just a few things we need to ask your daughter.”

“My daughter has a name, and she needs to rest!” Bifrost said, stomping his hoof against the floor. “She’s not ready for a game of twenty questions right now.”

Celestia tried her best not to be too frustrated by Bifrost’s steadfast convictions. On one hoof, she supposed he should be commended for his protective nature. On the other hoof, there were questions to settle, and the only pony who could answer them was Rainbow Dash herself. Regardless it was quickly becoming apparent that their common pony disguises were not making anything easier with the pony between them and the door.

Taking a breath, she forced herself to keep a hopeful smile as she tried again to appeal to Bifrost’s better nature. “We just need her to corroborate a few pieces of evidence pertaining to her accident.”

“I wouldn’t care if Princess Celestia herself showed up,” Bifrost declared loud enough for most ponies in the hall to turn their heads, “my daughter doesn’t need to be badgered right now. So, you two can kindly piss off!”

Luna’s face contorted in anger, her left eye twitching noticeably. “You insolent—”

Celestia quickly lifted her right hoof up in front of Luna to silence the younger mare’s protest. Not that she could blame her sister for the outburst. Rainbow’s father was proving to be a far more... difficult stallion than she had expected. Repressing another sigh, she slowly shook her head. It seemed as though she wasn’t quite the actress she fancied herself to be anymore.

“What if I were to tell you that I am Princess Celestia, and that is my sister, Princess Luna?”

Bifrost snorted and rolled his eyes. “I’d say I should call the mental ward and tell em they lost two of their best crazies.”

‘Happy thoughts,’ she told herself, ‘happy thoughts.’

Luna, on the other hoof, did not get the mental memo. She pushed past Celestia, her face twisted in a fearsome snarl and her horn haphazardly sparking with barely contained power. She leaned forward, her nose mere inches from Bifrost’s face. Celestia had to (silently) commend the stallion for standing his ground, Luna could be quite intimidating when she was mad.

“Thoust dares address thine princesses in such a manner?!” she hissed.

“Oh, I am so sorry your worship!” Bifrost rolled his eyes before executing the single most sarcastic curtsy in equestrian history. “Please excuse this simple stallion his ignorant tone and allow him the chance to rephrase his words. Wouldest thou and thine sister most generously turn around, present thine royal plots, and with grace most becoming, piss off.”

The whole of Manehattan seemed to go silent for a moment as the royal sisters processed what the rainbow maned stallion had just said to them. Ponies from all over the city would recount tales to their grandfoals as to the great and dreadful chill that ran down their spines.

“...You dare?” the younger princess seethed, the lights in the hospital dimming with the building display of her power

“Luna, no!” Celestia shouted, her hoof reaching out for her sister.

A cloud of dark blue magic built around Luna’s horn. The raw energy spiraled and expanded as it traveled down the length, enveloping ‘Aurora’s’ body. From there it undulated and swelled, growing until she stood well over the pegasus. Bifrost reflexively stepped back, his wings flaring out and a hoof protecting his face.

When he finally lowered his hoof and opened his eyes, the hair on the back of his neck stood on end as he beheld the princess of the night.

“... Huh,” Bifrost grunted, his eyes staring up at the very angry princess before him. Out of all the possible words in the Equish language, only two seemed to properly sum up his situation. “Well... shit.”

Celestia sighed, shaking her head from the disappointment of it all. She didn’t need to look around to know everypony on the floor was staring at them. Much to her disappointment, there seemed to be little use in carrying the charade on any longer. With a bit of energy through her horn, her own disguise burned away. Tiny embers of raw mana drifting off her coat revealing her true form.

“We shall sentence thee—”

“Luna, calm down.” Celestia chided, moving forward so she was standing next to her sister. “And mind your language, please.”

The princess of the night groaned, her body quaking from a revolted shudder. After a few deep breaths to calm herself, and a particularly entertaining dive into her imagination where Bifrost was taking a one-way trip to become a new lunar lawn ornament, she spoke again. “Mister Bifrost... I do not take kindly to th—er, your tone.”

“I am very, very, sorry for what I said and how I said it your highness,” Bifrost bowed until his nose almost touched the cold floor, his wings outstretched. “I didn’t know it was you, nor should that be an excuse for having been so disrespectful in my tone.”

“Your apology is accepted, my little pony,” Celestia cut in, eager to move on to some actual business instead of butting heads with Bifrost for another ten-rounds. “If we may speak to Rainbow now—”

“No,” Bifrost interrupted, earning a stunned gasp from a few of the common ponies trying to discreetly eavesdrop on the conversation.

Celestia’s face fell flat, her amusement in Bifrost’s stubbornness completely forgotten. “I beg your pardon?”

“With respect, your highness,” Bifrost began, never lifting himself from his bow, “Rainbow has only just woken up. She’s tired, she’s confused from the medication, and she’s in a lot of pain. I will not make this any harder on her than it needs to be, so I respectfully ask that you leave her alone for a little longer.” Bifrost slowly lifted his gaze from the floor, his eyes meeting Celestia’s. “Unless you have a spell of some kind that can heal her up.”

The alabaster princess struggled not to frown. For the first time she realized she was actually seeing Bifrost for what he was; a simple father, frightened and weary. She saw the hope flickering in the back of his golden eyes.

“I am sorry,” she began, taking no joy in snuffing out that small ember of hope, nor did she have the stomach to lie to him. “I don’t know of any such magics.”

His ears flattened and his gaze fell. “I see.”

Celestia reached out with her wing, the long and elegant feathers gently coaxing his chin up so their eyes could meet.

“I know this is hard on you, but my sister and I must speak with Rainbow. We shall not be long, but we must get a clearer picture of what happened to her.”

"Have either of you two ever had children?" Bifrost asked, his resolve unwavering, though his tone had certainly improved.

“My sister and I have lived a very long time, my little pony,” Celestia began, a sad smile on her lips, “I can assure you we have had children of our own.”

“Then you should understand!” Bifrost stomped his hoof against the floor, the sharp crack of his hoof making their ears flinch. “You should understand that to protect my daughter, I’d burn Equestria to the ground.”

“That’s... commendable,” Celestia half agreed, though she could think of more... eloquent ways of “but given what your daughter means to Equestria—”

“And what would that be?”

“An element of Harmony and a national security interest,” Luna suggested rather bluntly, failing to see the implications of such a phrase on Rainbow’s perceived value as a pony.

“Luna, please,” Celestia chided her sister. Suddenly their little ‘family outing’ to Manehattan no longer seemed like the grand idea it had been a few days earlier.

“What?” Luna balked, her hoof gesturing to the closed door. “It’s the truth,”

Celestia rubbed her temple with a hoof. “Remind me to discuss ‘tact’ with you when we get back to Canterlot.”

It was at this time that Spitfire had the misfortune of rounding the corner. So lost in her thoughts that she failed to notice Luna’s royal plot until she ran face-first into it. The decidedly undignified yelp both mares made brought a resounding silence over the floor. Bifrost covered his mouth behind a hoof and bit his tongue in a desperate attempt not to laugh.

“Watch thyself!” Luna shouted, her face reddening.

Spitfire’s eyes squeezed shut as she let out a pained groan. “Watch yourself, lady!”

“Oh for the love of... well, me, I guess?” Celestia groaned, her hoof attempting to rub away the headache that was rapidly developing behind her eyes.

After catching her breath from the flood of pain the impact had delivered to her wing, Spitfire opened her eyes. Observing the mare she had just addressed, she found a sudden desire for a deep hole to crawl into.

“Oh, Celestia... I-I mean Luna, er, well,” Spitfire flubbed.

“What are thou—”

“Luna...”

The younger princess resisted the urge to scream. “What are you doing here?”

Spitfire forced herself into the best bow she could given the state of her body. “I-I was here to check on Rainbow.”

Bifrost gave Spitfire a kind smile and the light wave of a wing. “Go on inside, Spitfire, I’ll be in shortly.”

Spitfire moved as quickly as she could towards the door, all to grateful to disappear into the relative safety of Rainbow’s room.

“You’re letting her in?” Celestia asked, somewhat incredulously.

“I’m not going to stand in the way of young love,” Bifrost explained.

Celestia seemed irritated, but it was Luna who stepped forward, batting her eyelashes and lowering herself from her impressive height. “But my gentle stallion, Rainbow, Spitfire, and I have been together for so long...”

Bifrost and Celestia stared at Luna in a moment of shared confusion.

“What?” Celestia and Bifrost asked, simultaneously.

Luna leaned back, a light blush creeping across her cheeks. “T’was worth an attempt.”

Inside the room, Spitfire huddled against the door, her ears flat and her eyes wide. Her mind swirled in an attempt to calculate all the ways she had probably just screwed herself. It wasn’t until she heard Rainbow’s voice, quiet, but very much alive, that she snapped out of her panicked reverie.

“S-Spitfire?”

Spitfire smiled, her heart fluttering as she walked towards the bed. Rainbow’s half-lidded eyes watched her approach, and a soft smile formed on her lips. Spitfire could hear her labored breathing and she could see the faint lines of pain on Rainbow’s face, though the coctail of drugs seemed to be doing a good job with that.

“Hey,” she rasped.

“Hey yourself.”

“What’s goin’ on outside?” Rainbow slurred, her eyes struggling to remain open through the cocktail of drugs the hospital had given her.

“I think your dad is making an ass of himself in front of the princesses.”

“That’s cool,” Rainbow giggled, “you look really hot.”

Spitfire snorted, a faint warmth blossoming over her cheeks. “You’re definitely high, Dash, cause I look like a train wreck.

“I could jump you right now,” Rainbow asserted, the comment earning a surprised laugh from Spitfire.

“When you’re outta here,” Spitfire began, leaning down to kiss Rainbow’s lips, “we’ll see who jumps who first.”

“I love you,” Rainbow whispered, her exhausted body dragging her mind back to the depths of sleep.

“I love you too.”

“I could jump you right now.”

“I know, honey, I know,” Spitfire cooed, her hoof stroking Rainbow’s cheek.

“Hey, buddy,” the unicorn tending the bar greeted him with a smile. “How’s it going?”

Arcus groaned. “Let’s just say I’m not the only pony having a rough morning, but at least I won’t be limping all day.”

“Fair enough,” the barkeep said with a nod, “what can I get you?”

“Scotch on the rocks.”

“A bit early for that, isn’t it?”

Arcus didn’t answer, instead he merely sighed and looked up.

“One scotch, coming right up!” It was funny how a simple look could change a pony’s opinion.

Soon enough his drink was delivered and the barkeep went off to greet another customer. Arcus’s hoof traced the rim of the cup, his eyes watching the tendrils of water mix with the amber liquor as the ice melted. His mouth watered as he lifted the cup to his lips and took a sip. He savored the smokey flavor and the warm burn that slid down his throat.

Sighing in satisfaction, he set the glass down. Just for a couple hours he didn’t want to think about the team, the media, or the royal mess that he had unintentionally waded neck deep into. Planting his left elbow on the counter, he rested his head against his hoof. His ears swivled just enough to get a better listen to the small radio behind the bar as the DJ introduced the next song.

“Alright everypony, this next one is a request from Miss Sunny Days and goes out to all the brave mares and stallions injured in Monday’s electrical storm.”

Arcus recognized the tune almost immediately; an accordion led a reserved melody over an understated guitar. He didn’t know why the choice surprised him. Perhaps he had assumed ‘Sunny’ didn’t keep up on modern music, or perhaps being over one thousand years old she had developed certain interests that weren’t public knowledge. Either way, Arcus didn’t mind

Well I know, I miss more than hit
With a face that was launched to sink
And I seldom feel, the bright relief
It`s been the worst day since yesterday

He chuckled, lifting the glass to his lips and sipping at his drink. “Cheeky,” he mumbled, “very cheeky.”

If there is one thing I have said
Is that the dreams I once had, now lie in bed
As the four winds blow, my wits through the door
It`s been the worst day since yesterday

Spitfire gently stroked Rainbow’s hoof, her eyes content to observe the steady rise and fall of the weather manager’s chest. Bifrost sat on the opposite side of the bed, seemingly lost in thought. A radio set on the nightstand gave them something to listen to besides the monitors attached to Rainbow.

“So, what did you tell the princesses?” Spitfire asked.

“I asked them to come back tomorrow, after Rainbow had a chance to rest,” he answered, not bothering to look up.

Spitfire mouthed a silent ‘oh’.

Fallin’ down to you sweet ground
Where the flowers they bloom
It`s there I'll be found
Hurry back to me, my wild caleen
It`s been the worst day since yesterday

Though these wounds have seen no wars
Except for the scars I have ignored
And this endless crutch is never enough
It`s been the worst day since yesterday

“Thank you, for letting me stay.”

Bifrost looked over to Spitfire. “Do you make each other happy?”

Spitfire looked to Rainbow, a soft smile pulling at the corners of her mouth. “She makes me very happy, and I hope I make her happy too.”

“Then I can’t think of a better place for you to be than here with us.”

Hell says hello, well it`s time I should go
To pastures green that I've yet to see
Hurry back to me, my wild caleen
It`s been the worst day since yesterday

Author's Note

Many thanks to LoyalLiar for helping out with this chapter.

Bifrost

There had once been a time when Celestia asked Luna about the specifics of her dream walking abilities. Luna described it like flying through the night’s sky, where every star was a pony at rest. Celestia had also sworn swift retribution if Luna ever walked through her dreams again. In fairness though, how was a young Luna to know that her then teenaged sister was prone to the occasional... intimate dream?

Luna had since learned to be more… subtle with her observations.

A flap of Luna’s wings propelled her further into the the dreamscape, her eyes briefly scanning every dream she passed. Most common were the dreams of fillies and colts, often nonsensical byproducts of developing young minds. Luna had decided long ago it was best to leave those dreams alone in all but the most extreme cases.

Another flap carried her further through to the dreams of grown mares and stallions. She always found those much more rewarding to work with. Their dreams tended to be more rooted in the problems of their daily lives. Well, most of the time.

Luna paused by a particular dream of a stallion running for his life from a pair of gigantic horseshoes that seemed intent on eating him. Nearby, she spotted a different pony’s dream of falling; a surprisingly common nightmare for pegasi. Continuing forward, she passed a prophetic dream foretelling the end of the world. Luna knew better than to step into those dreams, they weren’t worth the hassle. She had forgotten if that was the fifteenth or sixteenth time she had seen that one tonight.

‘I wonder how many will start a cult this time.’ Luna rolled her eyes.

Pressing forward she stretched out with her senses, feeling for the mind of the one pony she was interested in. He must have stayed up quite late to have not yet entered the dreamscape. The thought made Luna scoff, she didn’t know why some ponies could be so discourteous with their time. Then again, given the stallion she was searching for, Luna wasn’t sure why she was surprised.

Not sensing the mind she was looking for yet, Luna went back to drifting aimlessly through the sea of dreams around her. She didn’t feel anypony caught in the throes of a particularly upsetting dream, nor any recurrent night-terrors that she could intervene in. It was hard not to be a little disappointed in the lack of creativity in most ponies subconsciousness. She wondered if Donut Joe was asleep, his dreams were usually entertaining, and they made for splendid blackmail against her sister.

Luna’s chuckle came to an abrupt end as she finally sensed the mind she was looking for. With a moment of concentration the dreamscape faded away, leaving only one mind in front of her. She paced around the nebulous concentration of the stallion’s subconscious, appraising it with well practiced senses.

“Hello again, Mister Bifrost,” she cooed, circling around the stallion’s dream. “There are some questions about you that I desire an answer to.”

Lowering her head, Luna’s horn touched the dream. Bifrost’s dream expanded, encompassing Luna in it’s bounds. She allowed a few moments for her presence to fully mesh within his mind, it was easier to avoid detection that way, and given the way he had spoken with herself and Celestia earlier, Luna was disinclined to speak with him again. At least not without understanding him better.

Opening her eyes, Luna smiled. The dreamspace was still in flux, which meant Bifrost’s mind was just settling in to sleep. It would be foals play for her to shape his dreams from memories. She would have to work slowly, starting with more recent events and working her way back until she found what she wanted. That was the only way she could keep her presence undetectable.

Reaching out with her magic, it was only a few moments before she found the memory from the mornings events. From there she quickly found the subconscious threads that tied it to an earlier memory. It was all too easy for her to follow them down, and Luna was quite eager to see what made this stallion tick.

She found herself standing in the corner of a large office room. Bifrost was sitting behind a desk, a stack of papers in his hooves that he was reading. Luna paced around the room until she was standing behind him. The desk was covered in a series of papers, most of which were illegible to Luna as Bifrost didn’t have a photographic memory. The only things on the desk that were clear were a set of three framed pictures.

The first was a picture of a very young Rainbow Dash, no more than four or five by the look of it. Her bright eyes seemed to sparkle with glee as she held a Wonderbolt’s pennant in her teeth. A second photograph showed an older Rainbow Dash, side by side with Bifrost. Both father and daughter shared the same bright grin, though the background had faded in Bifrost’s memory.

The final picture was of a mare Luna didn’t recognize. She had a delicate pink coat and a flowing blue mane. Leaning forward, Luna studied the picture. It wasn’t hard to tell the mare was important to Bifrost, though exactly what their connection was she wasn’t yet sure.

The door to Bifrost’s office swung open, a pegasus stallion with an umber coat burst into the room, a telegram in his teeth. Bifrost looked up from his papers in mild annoyance. The look shifted to concern upon noticing the umber stallion’s expression.

“What’s up, Hail?”

Stopping in front of the desk, Hail released the note from his lips, letting the small sheet fall to the desk. He took a half-step back, his blue eyes watching Bifrost carefully. “The-there’s been an accident, Frost.”

Bifrost arched an eyebrow, reaching out with a hoof to pull the telegram closer. “Where? Are we talking somewhere in the factory, or what?.”

Hail fumbled over his words, unable to speak. Bifrost read the note, his heart coming to a full stop as the words sank in. His eyes drifted to the pictures on his desk, his jaw hanging open.

“No,” he whispered, “no, no, no!”

In an instant he turned and leapt out his window, his wings propelling him away as fast as they could.

Luna moved forward, her eyes looking to the note with interest. Bifrost’s memory only showed three words: Rainbow Dash injured. The rest of the note was nothing but an inconsequential blur lost to memory. Luna shifted her attention to the pictures on the desk. Her eyes she could see the faint glow around the picture of the filly aged Rainbow, and subsequently, the way to the next memory she was searching for.

Channeling magic into her horn, she bowed her head and tapped the pictures. The dreamscape faded into a sea of white, the world shifting and morphing as she shifted to an earlier time in Bifrost’s life. When she opened her eyes she was standing in a small living room, probably in Cloudsdale if the architecture was any indication.

All the furnishings were made of specially shaped clouds. Some items, like the overstuffed couch, were cloud based with plush cushions added for extra comfort. Picture frames had been mounted on most of the walls, most of the pink mare alone, or her and Bifrost. Newer pictures were added beside them showing foal pictures of a very young Rainbow Dash.

Luna heard singing coming from another room in the small home. A stallion’s voice, smooth and gentle, singing a lullaby. She couldn’t make out the words, but she couldn’t help but smile sadly from the melody.

She followed the voice down the hall, ignoring the areas of haze where the dream hadn’t fully solidified. Her hoofsteps carried her past an empty bedroom and a bathroom, Luna absently noticed two toothbrushes, two different toothpastes, and a mare’s brush lying on the counter. She hummed once, her hooves carrying her past without a second thought.

Past those she found the nursery, a small room with reinforced cloud walls. It was common practice in pegasi nursery’s to reinforce the cloudstone in their homes so a rambunctious young filly or colt wouldn’t accidentally make a hole and go into freefall. Luna observed that the cradle itself was made of wood and painted Wonderbolts blue. Hanging about it was a mural of little pegasi in flight. The tiny figures posed as if they were part of an intricate dance through the skies.

Bifrost was huddled over the cradle, his singing quiet as he lowered the sleeping foal into the cradle.

Baby mine, don’t you cry
Baby mine, dry your eyes
Rest your head close to my heart
Never to part, baby of mine

Bifrost pulled the sheets over the young filly’s body, his hoof gently caressing her mane. She slept soundly, her little mouth slightly ajar with every steady breath. Despite the exhaustion in his body, he smiled. His hoof lingered on her head a moment longer before reluctantly retreating.

“Sweet dreams, baby girl,” he whispered, lips planting a gentle kiss on her brow. “You have good dreams flying on mommy’s back, and she’ll carry you through to the dawn, and daddy will always be right here when you wake up, I promise.”

Almost reluctantly, Bifrost retreated from the cradle and let out an exhausted sigh. His wings sagged and his head sunk, even the atmosphere of the dream seemed to feel heavier around Luna. She recognized it for what it was: pure exhaustion. It was a feeling every parent carried, and it still tended to impress Luna how the common pony could push through that exhaustion at a moments notice if their children needed anything.

Bifrost turned to a pile of pillows and blankets he had thrown almost haphazardly in the corner of the room. Beside the makeshift bed was a small cup of water, a small plate with a half-eaten cookie, and a glass pane set into a wooden frame. Sealed within the glass was a beautiful pink primary feather, the color still vibrant as the day it was plucked thanks to whatever spells were placed upon it.

Careful not to make any noise, Bifrost lowered himself onto the pillows and pulled the blanket over his body. He reclined on his side, facing the framed feather. His eyes stared at it for several long minutes before he reached out with a hoof and pulled the frame to his breast.

Luna watched and waited, her curiosity only growing. Bifrost didn’t speak or sing, instead he remained quiet, his eyes closed and his jaw trembling. Luna watched him cover his eyes with a hoof, his breaths coming in short gasps as he struggled not to cry.

Her eyes flicked to the frame, again she saw the glow. She looked to Bifrost, her heart sinking at the sight of the agonized stallion. With a breath, she steeled herself and moved into the next memory.

The dreamscape shifted again, the small house melting and expanding. Dozens of pegasi of all shapes and colors appeared around her, all sitting in ordered rows with their heads bowed in despair. There were no details to them, they were merely shades in Bifrost’s memory. The front row had a large couch in the center flanked by several plush chairs on both flanks. In the very center sat Bifrost, a newborn foal held in his hooves. Other ponies shared the couch with him, though like all the rest they were featureless shades.

The back wall vanished, revealing a short platform and an overcast sky. A pedestal, shaped of ornately crafted cloudstone sat at the base of the platform, a silver urn placed on top of it and surrounded by flowers and pictures of the pink mare throughout her life.

An aging pegasus wearing a black jacket stepped up to a small podium to the right of the urn. Pulling a sheet of paper from his pocket, he cleared his throat and began the service.

“Brothers and sisters, we are gathered here today to mourn the loss of our sister, Firefly. Daughter of Thunder Dash and Easy Breeze, sister of Summer Rain and Northwind, wife of Bifrost, and mother of Rainbow Dash. She leaves behind many friends and loved ones whose hearts she touched in more ways than one, and a newborn daughter who will grow up never knowing her mother’s voice.”

Bifrost tried to be strong, he tried to keep his grief inside. Yet the harder he tried, the more powerful the hurt seemed to become. A pitiful whimper was all that preceded the tears that flowed freely from his cheeks. The ponies around him wrapped their hooves around his shoulders, providing what love they could.

The old stallion’s voice echoed through the dream, the words only faint echoes through the overpowering grief. Luna struggled to fully insulate herself from the sensation. The service passed in a blur, many ponies sharing their memories of Firefly at the podium, Bifrost heard none of it. Finally the old stallion returned to close the ceremony.

“And so it is with heavy hearts that we give our sister Firefly’s ashes to the winds. May her spirit fly forever free, and may she find eternal rest in the Summer Lands.”

Bifrost’s face twisted in silent agony, tears spilling down his cheeks as two ponies, clad in black suits hefted the silver urn from the polished cloudstone pedestal. Slowly, deliberately, they flew off of the platform and over the fields far below Cloudsdale. A third pony removed a simple metal disc from the bottom of the urn. Bifrost clung to his infant daughter as his love’s ashes filtered out and into the open sky. Even with the loving hooves of many ponies holding onto him, he had never felt so alone in his life.

The memory shifted again, this time the change was unbidden by Luna. Bifrost’s subconscious was naturally shifting to a related memory. Luna didn’t attempt to stop the shift, not only would it reveal her presence, but she also wanted to be away from the oppressive grief of the funeral.

The memory faded away, like grains of sand caught in the wind. Each grain seemed to multiply exponentially, rebuilding the dreamspace around her. Gone was the rows of grieving ponies, replaced by a cold hospital hallway. Bifrost stood in front of a mare in a white doctors coat, her face was at once distinct, yet unmemorable.

“We did everything we could, but she lost too much blood,” the mare said.

Bifrost leaned heavily against a wall, his mind trying to process what was happened. “No, no she can’t...”

“She passed away a few minutes ago, I’m so sorry for your loss.”

Bifrost shook his head, his mind stubbornly refusing to accept the reality of the situation. “Firefly isn’t dead! She can’t be dead!” He shouted, stomping his hoof and walking away from the doctor. Tears spilled from his eyes, his throat tightened and his heart ached.

The doctor followed close behind him, a sympathetic frown on her face. She reached out with a hoof, gently resting it on his shoulder. Bifrost whirled around, half-heartedly shoving her away as his world crumbled. The shove only gave the mare a half-seconds pause before she was beside him again.

“She’s not dead, she’s not!”

“I’m sorry—‘

“You go back in there and do whatever you gotta do, but… but she’s—“

“There’s nothing more we can do,” the doctor said, her voice firm and calm. “She’s gone.”

Bifrost stopped his pacing, fighting desperately to quell the pain in his heart. When he turned to face the doctor, his face was red and his lips trembled. His voice was quiet as he pleaded with her. “Please, please, sh-she can’t… she can’t leave our baby, she wouldn’t… she can’t…”

The doctor pulled him into a tight hug, letting the broken stallion sob into her shoulder. “It’s gonna be okay, it’s gonna be okay.”

The painful reality settled into Bifrost’s heart. Firefly would never smile again, never laugh, never cry. She would never sing, dance, or hurt. Firefly, his love, his light, was dead. For a long time, the doctor held Bifrost as he wept.

Luna closed her eyes and turned away, she wouldn’t force Bifrost to suffer any more of that dark day. She closed her eyes and stretched out with her senses, looking for a happier memory. She found it closer than she thought, deep in Bifrost’s heart. With a careful application of magic, she leapt through the portal. The dream vanished into blinding light.

When Luna opened her eyes, she was standing back in the nursery. This time there were no pillows in the corner. The cradle itself was pristine and unused, silently awaiting it’s occupant.

Hearing quiet voices from down the hall, Luna left the small room. Following the sounds she arrived at the master bedroom, the door hanging open. Luna couldn’t help but blush as she peered inside.

She found the source of the voices easily enough, Bifrost and Firefly. They were lying in bed, her back flush with his chest. His foreleg draped lazily over her swollen belly, hoof rubbing over where their unborn foal grew. He kissed the back of her neck and inhaled her scent deep into his lungs, earning a sleepy giggle from her.

“They’re sure it’s a girl?” he asked.

She laughed, a hoof resting over his. “Disappointed, big guy?”

He snorted. “I’ll get over it.”

“Well in a year or two we’ll try really hard to make her a baby brother, how’s that sound?”

“Sounds like a trip to Las Pegasus for us, and to grandma’s for this one,” he chuckled, hoof delicately patting her belly.

“Thought of any good filly names?”

Bifrost hummed. “Kinda gotta see her first, we wouldn’t want to pick a name that doesn’t fit.”

“She can have two names,” Firefly argued.

“Like your parents?”

“Yeah, why not?”

“Hmm,” he nuzzled her neck, “what about ‘Rocket’?”

She rolled her eyes. “That’s a colt’s name, Frost.”

“Says who?”

“Says me.”

Bifrost snorted. “Don’t tell me, you wanna name her ‘Radical Radiance,’ or something like that.”

Firefly groaned. “Cute, but then she’d hate us by the time she can fly.”

“What about ‘Dash’, after your dad?”

“Dash,” she repeated, “Our little Dashie.”

Bifrost stuck his tongue out in distaste. “Well when you say it like that, forget it.”

Firefly laughed, swatting Bifrost lightly on the nose. “Oh shush, it’s cute!”

“My daughter won’t be cute! She’ll be the cutest filly wots ever lived!” he declared proudly.

Firefly laughed. “Sheesh, not even born yet and daddy’s already wrapped around her little hoof.”

Bifrost rolled his eyes. “Great, cause her mommy doesn’t own enough of me already.”

With another chuckle, Firefly tilted her head back to catch his lips in a soft kiss. “I love you, ‘daddy’.”

“I love you too, ‘mommy’.”

Firefly rubbed her belly, excited for the moment she would hold first set eyes on her daughter-to-be. “And we both love you, little one.”

“Betcha she looks like me,” Bifrost said with a mischievous grin.

“Oh you’re so full of crap!”

Luna closed her eyes and channeled her magic through her horn. Slipping free of his dreams she found herself back in the nebulous realm where all dreams resided. For a time, she drifted aimlessly, her thoughts preoccupied with what she had seen and felt. With a sigh, she left the dreamspace altogether. She didn’t have the will for more tonight.

Bifrost awoke with a sharp gasp, his eyes darting about the darkened room. His right hoof rubbed anxiously at his face as he struggled to calm down.

“Deep breaths... deep breaths. It’s was just a dream,” he whispered, “just a dream.”

“D...dad?” Rainbow whispered, her voice hoarse.

Bifrost didn’t answer, he took heavy breaths through his mouth, his hooves covering his eyes.

“Dad?” she asked again. Her attempted to sit up met with blinding pain from her abdomen. Cringing, she laid her head back and panted for a moment to catch her breath. “D-dad, what’s wrong?”

Bifrost quickly wiped his face on his fetlock as he lowered his hooves. He forced a bright smile for Rainbow, though even the darkness of the room didn’t convince her it was genuine.

“Nothing, honey, Daddy’s okay. You go back to sleep, okay?”

“You sound,” she paused to catch her breath, a trembling hoof trying to reach out for him. “Sound like you’re crying.”

A sad chuckle escaped him, his hooves gently taking Rainbow’s. “Yeah, yeah, I am.”

“Why?” she asked, her words coming out in strained whispers. Each breath made more difficult from her collapsed lung

“I know, baby, I know. It was just… just had a rough dream.”

“What,” she coughed lightly, a whimper escaping her throat, “what about?”

Bifrost leaned down, kissing her forehead. He tried not to be surprised to feel that her fever had yet to break. “Don’t you worry about me, baby. You just rest and get better now, okay?”

“Dad...” Rainbow pleaded.

Bifrost sagged, he couldn’t brush her off. He never could.

“I... I was dreaming about your mom,” he said, his voice seeming distant. “About how much I miss her, and how scared I was when you got hurt.”

“I’m okay, Dad, really.”

He smiled, a sad laugh escaping him. His hoof brushed through her mane. “I know baby, I know. But you can’t blame me for worrying.”

“I can worry about you, too.”

“I know, I know,” he assured her, “how do you feel?”

“... Hurts a lot.”

“Want me to get the doctor?”

“No... I’m okay.”

“Is there anything I can do?”

“… C-… could you sing me a song?”

Bifrost smiled, his hoof petting her mane. “Always, sweetie. Always.”

He cleared his throat and took a breath. For the chance to feel like her dad again, even if just for one last moment, one last breath, or one last song. For that chance, he would do anything.

When he sang, his voice was soft. Tenor notes gently carrying the lyrics through the room.

Baby mine, don’t you cry
Baby mine, dry your eyes
Rest your head close to my heart
Never to part, baby of mine

Little one when you play
Don't you mind what you say
Let those eyes sparkle and shine
Never a tear, baby of mine

Clear Skies

"It’s not getting any better, is it?”

Rainbow managed a small shake of her head in answer to Bifrost’s question. The medicine they had been giving her since the accident wore off in the predawn hours, leaving Rainbow in slowly increasing amounts of pain. It was just after dawn when the pain forced a groan from her lips

Bifrost reached for the call button. “I’ll get the doctor to come in and give you something for it.”

“I don’t,” a wave of pain gave her pause and forced a piteous whimper from her throat. “I don’t want drugs.”

Bifrost stared at his daughter with a look of flat confusion. “Aren’t drugs the fun part about being hospitalized?”

Rainbow managed a small scoff. “Its not fun being that out of it.”

“More fun that spending Celestia knows how long in needless agony, I’d wager.”

“I don’t like taking drugs, dad.”

Bifrost sighed, a hoof rubbing the back of his neck. He couldn’t help a rueful smile at Rainbow’s stance. “You’re as stubborn as you mother.”

“Some—” She cringed after taking a breath that was a bit too deep, “s-some pony’s gotta keep you on your hooves.”

“Rainbow—”

“I don’t wanna—” She cringed, her teeth gritting to prevent anything more than a low groan. “I don’t... wanna get addicted...”

“And you won’t,” Bifrost promised, his heart aching at the sight of his daughter in pain. “I’ll be right here to keep an eye on everything, and I’m sure Spitfire wouldn’t let you get hooked either.”

“I... I can take this...” Rainbow panted, unsure if she was trying to convince her dad, or herself.

“Dash, please,” Bifrost took Rainbow’s hooves in his own, “please, don’t do this to yourself.”

Rainbow would have groaned and would have slapped herself on the forehead had she been physically capable of the act. Her father was giving her a look not dissimilar to a freshly kicked puppy. It was a sign that he was prepared to go into full guilt-trip mode in order to get her to see his side of an argument.

She hated when he did that, mostly because it always worked.

With a frustrated groan, Rainbow relented. “Fine...”

Bifrost smiled, his left hoof reaching out and pressing the large call button installed on a small remote hanging from the side of the bed. After that there was nothing more to do but sit and wait. Neither Bifrost or Rainbow Dash were particularly good at waiting.

Fortunately for both of them it wasn’t long before a staccato knock preceded the nurse’s entry into the room. She was an older unicorn with a lilac coat and a wavy blonde mane. Her eyes were a soft brown color.

“Good morning you two,” the nurse greeted, far more chipper than a pony had any right to be at quarter-to-five in the morning. “What seems to be the trouble?”

“She’s in a lot of pain,” Bifrost answered, “it actually woke her up almost an hour ago.”

“I see,” the mare said, her gentle smile never faltering. “On a scale of one to ten, ten being the worst pain you’ve ever felt and one being “I stubbed my hoof”, where would you rate it?”

“Eight... or nine,” Rainbow answered.

Bifrost remained silent and did his best not to frown. It frightened him when Rainbow obfuscated details about her health. It reminded him too much of Firefly, in all the wrong ways.

Nodding, the nurse made a note in her chart. “Okay, I’ll go fetch the doctor, it shouldn’t take more than a couple minutes.”

“Thanks very much,” Bifrost said, stifling a yawn behind his hoof.

“Anything you need sir?”

“I got a pillow, a blanket, and a comfy chair,” Bifrost answered, giving the mare a tired smile. “I got all I need.”

The nurse nodded. “Okay, it’ll just be a minute.”

Bifrost waited for the door to click shut before sighing and turning back to Rainbow. Her eyes were clenched shut and her expression was fraught with thinly veiled pain. His hoof reached out of it’s own accord, coming to a gentle rest on her bedraggled mane.

“My poor baby,” he whispered.

“I’m fine, Dad,” she protested, one eye cracking open to look at him. “I’m a tough mare.”

Bifrost chuckled. “You’ll always be my baby girl, Dash. Even when I’m a decrepit old stallion and you’re some famous celebrity.”

“You say that like I’m not gonna be working weather teams in thirty years.”

“Well if you’re not rich and famous, how will you support me to the manner in which I am accustomed?” Bifrost asked, sticking his nose in the air and doing his best to look snooty.

Rainbow giggled, the action causing her to wince. “I’ll just have you parked in front of a good gramophone with your record collection.”

“Hmm, fair enough.”

A gentle knock heralded the arrival of the doctor. With his red coat and ginger mane, Rainbow Dash would have sworn Big Mac had just trotted into her room. Had it not been for the horn sticking out of the stallion’s forehead, he would have been a deadringer for the quiet farm pony.

“Good morning, you two, I’m Dr. Trotter,” he began with a kind smile. He trotted past Bifrost to Rainbow’s bedside, his horn emitting a soft golden glow as he took her chart in his magic. “So, you’re having lot’s of pain that’s keeping you from sleeping?”

“Yeah,” Rainbow answered quietly.

“Not to worry, I’ve got just the thing,” he said, producing a capped syringe and a vial of clear liquid from a pocket. Sticking the needle into the vial, he carefully measured out a dosage. Rainbow watched nervously as he slowly injected the medication into her IV. “This should take care of the pain, and has a great side-effect of curing insomnia.”

“Can I have some of that?” Bifrost jokingly asked.

“Maybe next time, sorry,” Trotter answered with a polite laugh.

Rainbow closed her eyes and let a slow breath out of her mouth. A warm sensation filtered through her foreleg and into the rest of her body bringing with it a wave of relief from the constant pains. It also brought a sense of dizziness that made her nauseous.

“How’s that feel?” the doctor asked, capping the needle and depositing it into a locked biohazard bin mounted on the wall.

“Better,” Rainbow answered.

“Excellent,” he said, marking a note in his chart. Setting the chart and his pencil down on the bed, he retrieved a disposable thermometer from a small cabinet of supplies in the corner of the room. Pulling it free of the sealed paper envelope, he held it to Rainbow’s mouth. “Hold this under your tongue, please.”

Rainbow complied with the simple instruction. Silence settled between the three of them for the minute it took the temperature-sensitive paper to be ready. Removing the slip with a quiet ‘thanks’, the doctor marked her temperature on the chart before disposing of the thermometer.

“You fever still hasn’t gone down.”

“Is that normal?” Bifrost asked, his wings flexing in agitation

“It’s a little high, but not so much that I’m worried yet,” the doctor answered. “Still, we’ll keep a close eye on her and if things change we’ll reassess.”

“Thanks,” Rainbow mumbled, her mind quickly succumbing to the painkillers.

“How long will it be before her lung heals up?”

“On average, the lung will inflate in a week, maybe two. Depends on the pony and the severity of the injury. Though with her broken ribs the pain is likely to last for a while, but that should diminish over time so long as she takes things easy.”

“Does the chest tube stay in the whole time?” Bifrost asked.

“We’ll pull that as soon as possible, we just need to make sure the lung has reinflated and there’s no more air of fluid in her chest.”

Bifrost nodded, his eyes drifting from the doctor to Rainbow.

“Anything else you need?”

Bifrost shook his head. “Nothing right now, thanks though.”

“It’s what we do,” the doctor bowed his head politely before taking his leave, the door quietly shutting behind him.

Bifrost sighed, rubbing his eyes wearily and yawning. “Feeling better, Rainbow?”

“The ceiling is all spinny...”

Bifrost laughed, reaching over with a hoof he petted her mane. “Enjoy it while it lasts.”

Rainbow mumbled something incomprehensible, her exhaustion quickly dragging her back to sleep once the pain had been subdued. Bifrost waited until she seemed to be resting comfortably before he climbed back into the recliner that had become his makeshift bed. He grunted, doing his best to get comfortable. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath; all too soon a light sleep had claimed him as well.

At least until some pony’s hoof knocked at their door again.

Blinking awake, Bifrost stared at the ceiling for a moment, almost convinced he had dreamed the knock. He held his breath, silently hoping it had all been in his imagination. His hopes shattered when the knocking came again, slightly louder than before.

Dragging himself out of ‘bed’, Bifrost quickly checked on Rainbow. A small smile crept over his face, she seemed to be sleeping comfortably. Satisfied, Bifrost made his way to the door and pulled it open. On the other side he was surprised to see Celestia and Luna, once again in their mundane unicorn disguises. Celestia stood closer to the door, Luna stood a few paces back, her head hanging low and her weariness almost mirroring Bifrost’s.

“Good morning, my little pony,” Celestia greeted.

Bifrost’s private fantasy that Princess Celestia secretly hated mornings was instantly shattered.

“Um, morning... Begging your pardon, Princess, but what are you doing here?” Bifrost asked, a hoof rubbing his eyes.

Celestia’s eyebrow subtly arched upward. “We agreed to return today to speak with your daughter. May we come in?”

“It’s not even seven-thirty in the morning...”

“Tell me about it,” Luna mumbled under her breath.

“Yes, we had hoped to avoid attracting too much attention since our disguises were... exposed, yesterday,” Celestia explained.

“Who’s this ‘we’?” Luna grumbled.

Celestia heard the younger alicorn’s snark and shot her a disapproving glare. Luna shrugged it off.

“I love you more than coffee, little sister, but please don’t make me prove that.”

Luna shrugged.

Shaking her head, Celestia returned her attention to Bifrost. “Might we come in?”

“Um... not now, no.”

Centuries of dealing with petty squabbling ‘nobles’ and politics allowed Celestia to easily mask her surprise from Bifrost’s refusal. She took a slow breath to ensure she didn’t express her irritation; it had been a very long time since a pony hadn’t simply acquiesced to her wishes. Bifrost didn’t notice; his eyes shut as a wide yawn overwhelmed him. His posture relaxed somewhat as he looked her in the eye.

Celestia smiled, lowering herself closer to his eye level. “Is there something the matter that we should know of?”

Flashes of the evening’s nightmares made Bifrost flinch. He recovered quickly, making it look like he was simply shaking his head. “No, your highness. It’s just that, well, Rainbow only fell asleep a few hours ago, and I’d rather not wake her up if I don’t have to. She needs all the rest she can get.”

Luna stepped forward, cutting off whatever Celestia had been about to say. “We understand, and we shall return no later than three o’clock. We... I believe you will agree that this is a most amicable proposal.”

Bifrost made a slow blink, his exhausted mind processing the younger Princess’s words. Finally he nodded. “I, um, yeah. Yeah, that should work.”

“We thank thee,’ Luna said, turning in place and trotting down the hall.

Celestia’s eyes followed her sister for a moment, wondering what had caused her such a change of attitude since the previous day. Resolving that she wouldn’t find the answers standing and staring, she returned her attention to Bifrost.

“We shall call on you again this afternoon, rest well,” she smiled.

Bifrost bowed. “Thank you, Your Highness.”

Turning away, Celestia followed Luna down the hall, only vaguely registering the sound of Bifrost closing the door behind her. She caught up to Luna by the stairwell, the younger alicorn leaning against the wall while she waited. Luna stood up straight as Celestia approached, their eyes locking.

“Luna?”

“Celestia?”

“What was that about?”

Luna gave a thoughtful sigh before answering. “Let us discuss it over breakfast.”

“Fine, but you’re buying.”

Luna stared at her sister as though the elder mare had lost her mind. “Surely thou jests, we carry no coin!”

Celestia laughed. “Come, Luna. If I recall correctly there is a wonderful pastry shop not too far from here.”

“How thou hast defied logic and avoided a mouthful of cavities, we shall never understand.”

“Keep talking like that, Lulu, and I really will make you pay for breakfast.”

Luna stuck her tongue out at her sister. Together, disguised as common unicorns, they walked out of the hospital, Celestia in the lead.

The Grind House was abuzz with activity. Though, really, what else was one to expect from a coffee shop in a major metropolitan area? The small shop, furnished with rustic wooden tables and chairs held roughly thirty ponies at any given time. Some sat for a while to enjoy their drinks and breakfast treats or talk with friends before going off to their jobs. Many more got their orders to go, filing out of the shop almost as quickly as they would come in.

Soarin’ and Rapidfire were sat beside each other with Arcus sitting opposite of them. Between Soarin’ and Rapid was a large coffee drink of some kind. It had a whipped cream island on top with a sprinkling of what looked—at least to Soarin’—like ground cinnamon. Crowning the entire drink was a plump white marshmallow and a chocolate kiss.

Arcus hid his smirk behind his cup of plain coffee.

“Arcus,” Soarin’ began, his gaze transfixed by the bizarre concoction before him. “The fuck is this?”

“Why does it come with two straws?” Rapid asked, his hoof giving the nearest one a tentative poke.

“Well I wanted to apologize for walking in on you two the other day—”

“You’re never gonna let us live that down, are you?” Soarin’ asked.

“Not a chance,” Arcus answered.

“Oh good,” Soarin’ moaned, his eyes rolling dramatically.

“What even is this thing? Rapid demanded.

Arcus offered a noncommittal shrug. “The largest thing on the menu I could pronounce. Caramel somthing-or-other, I guess. I don’t get the kids these days.”

“There’s gotta be enough sugar in this thing to kill a pony,” Soarin’ mused.

“It smells like diabetes.” Rapidfire gagged.

“Your health plans probably cover that.”

“I wanna see that in writing,” Soarin’ grumbled.

“So, here’s the situation,” Arcus said, completely ignoring Soarin’, “as you both are aware, Spitfire will not be returning to command.”

“At least, not for a little while longer, right?” Rapid asked, biting his lip anxiously.

“No, Rapid, she’s done. Spitfire will supervise the Wonderbolts Academy for the remainder of her contract, and then she will retire.”

“But—”

“It’s over, Rapid,” Arcus said firmly, “as of right now the two of you are no longer stop-gap command. Soarin’, you’re now Flight Captain, Rapidfire, you’re now Flight Lieutenant. Both of you are free to resign these positions, though you will be required to fill them until replacement officers can be selected. Any questions so far?”

“No, Sir,” they answered in tandem, Soarin’s tone stoic, Rapid’s dejected.

“Good,” Arcus turned to the next page in his notebook. “Now, about Fleetfoot—”

“You found her?” Soarin’ asked.

“Is she okay?” Rapid added.

Arcus took a breath and hesitated for a moment, considering how to best break the news to them. “She’s, um... Fleetfoot is currently being held in a secure location, pending official charges.”

“What?!” they balked loud enough for several ponies to turn and stare.

“She confessed to causing Rainbow Dash’s injuries, we’re just waiting for Ms. Dash’s statement before proceeding.”

Soarin’ leaned back in his chair, as if struck by the information. Rapid covered his mouth with a hoof, his head shaking slowly.

“Does Spitfire know?”

Arcus sighed. “Not yet, I wanted to get Rainbow’s statement first, and preferably have both of you around for damage control.”

Soarin’s eyebrows furrowed together, veiled concern masking his expression. “You don’t think Spits would—”

“She might,” Rapid interrupted, a pensive look on his face. “She’s very protective of ponies she cares about, and she can really hold a grudge when she wants to.”

“My point exactly,” Arcus pointed a hoof at Rapid, “which is why I’d rather not have her be alone with Fleetfoot.”

“What happens next?” Soarin’ asked with a weary sigh.

“Fleetfoot has already offered her resignation; it all depends on Rainbow Dash now. It’s up to her now if Fleetfoot walks away from this or is taken to court.”

Silence settled over the table for a time, all three stallions letting the situation fully sink in. Soarin’s hoof absently played with the base of the oversized glass full of semi-liquid diabetes, his expression carefully blank. Rapidfire was the first to speak, his eyes meeting Arcus’.

“Did you accept it? Her resignation, I mean.”

“I really don’t have a choice on this one.”

After a moment of silence, Soarin’ spoke up. “So, what do we do now?”

Arcus set his cup down and rested his chin on his hooves. “What we’ve always done: We carry ourselves with honor and pride, and we persevere.”

“Now then,” Arcus pointed to the sugar laden horror between Soarin and Rapid, “one of you bastards better drink that.”

Soarin’ and Rapid started uncomfortably at the alleged ‘drink’. It seemed to stare back at them, it’s caffeine and sugar filled gaze staring menacingly into their very souls. Wordlessly, Soarin’ reached out with a hoof and pushed the concoction in front of Rapidfire.

“I don’t want it!” Rapid said, smacking Soarin’s shoulder with a hoof.

“I ain’t drinking it.” Soarin’ countered.

“Age before beauty, Mallow.”

Soarin’ shot Rapid a wicked smile and tapped a hoof against his chest. “Rank before anything.”

“Well, he’s got you there,” Arcus said with a nod.

“But... but I don’t want diabeets...” Rapid mewled, his ears folding back and his lip sticking out in a pitiful pout.

Not for the first time in his career, Arcus leaned back in his seat, content to watch the ensuing madness.

Alone in her room on the top floor of Manehattan General Hospital, Spitfire sat in a comparatively plush recliner. Her back was to the door, her eyes gazing into the Manehattan skyline through the large windows. In the distance she could see pegasi flying between buildings, going about their daily business without a care in the world.

It made Spitfire’s heart ache with sorrow. She wanted to fly, she needed to fly. Flying was in her blood, it fueled her soul, it comprised the very core of her being. Without flight, what was she? Just another pony, destined to trot from place to place, only to feel the sky from the basket of a balloon or the back of another pegasus?

Would Rainbow Dash still want to be with her? For that matter, would anypony want to stay with a crippled pegasus? Would she find herself justifiably abandoned for being nothing more than an inconvenient hasbeen to the ponies she cared about?

With a heavy sigh, Spitfire looked to a small plastic cup sitting on the tray next to her. Nearly an hour earlier, it had held a pill to take the pain away. While it had done it’s job quite well for the physical problems, it had also left her far more somber than she liked. At least the hospital staff had taken her off the IV bag, even if they left the picc line in her foreleg until she was discharged.

Her stomach growled, momentarily distracting Spitfire from her thoughts. Twisting her head, she got a look at the clock hanging on the wall. To her surprise, it was already well past noon. Frowning, she pushed herself out of the chair and onto her hooves. After a light stretch, she carefully made her way to the elevator; a little food in her belly would go a long way to improving her mood.

With the aid of the pills in her stomach, Spitfire was able to limp to the elevator in a few short minutes. A quick ride downstairs and the former Wonderbolt make the short trek to the hospital cafeteria. There were few ponies in the line at the time, and she was grateful none of them paid her more than a passing glance. Ordering a breakfast of eggs, hash browns, and pancakes, Spitfire paid and took her receipt in her teeth to find a table.

Grey industrial carpet covered the floor of the dining room, which had seats for roughly seventy-five ponies. Fake trees and ferns were placed in various places to lend a more natural setting and put patients and their families at ease; Spitfire thought they looked tacky. Trotting towards the back of the room, Spitfire gasped when she laid eyes on a familiar mare.

The white unicorn with an electric blue mane and tail was buckled into a wheelchair, a soft collar around her neck, and a glass of milk and a slice of chocolate cake on the table before her. Sitting beside her, with a cup of what Spitfire assumed to be coffee or tea, was a grey mare with a dark flowing mane. The grey mare had a salad in front of her which she picked at with a fork, both mares enjoying quiet conversation.

Moving her receipt to her good wing, Spitfire took a deep breath and trotted over to the pair, her heart racing in her chest. Both mares halted their conversation at her approach, the unicorn’s eyes widening in shock. The grey mare regarded Spitfire warily, looking ready for anything.

“Um, hi,” Spitfire began with a meek grin.

The unicorn spoke first. “Y-you’re—”

“The mare who crashed in front of you a few days ago,” Spitfire said with a sheepish laugh. “I just, well, I saw you over here and just wanted to say I’m sorry about that.”

“It’s fine,” the unicorn answered quickly, cutting off whatever the grey earth pony was about to say. “I’m Vinyl Scratch, this is my fiancee, Octavia.”

“I’m Spitfire, nice to meet you,” Spitfire held out a hoof. Both Vinyl and Octavia took a turn to shake it.

“You’re the Wonderbolt, right?” Vinyl asked.

“I was, yeah,” Spitfire smiled sadly turning to show the thick cast on her wing, “doesn’t look like I’ll be flying much anymore.”

Vinyl’s smile mirrored Spitfire’s. “I know how you feel,” she said a hoof tapping her useless back leg.

“Anyway, I didn’t want to interrupt you two, I just figured I’d apologize for... well, you know.”

“It’s appreciated,” Octavia said, her expression softening somewhat.

Spitfire turned to leave, when a question from Vinyl stopped her. “Hey, um, the mare you were carrying...”

The Wonderbolt turned, her eyes meeting Vinyl’s.

“Is she okay?”

Spitfire nodded. “I’m going to visit her next.”

Vinyl smiled. “Tell her we said get well soon, for whatever it’s worth.”

“I will.”

After lunch, Spitfire took the elevator back up to Rainbow’s floor. Her belly full and her pain pills working, she didn’t feel too bad as she walked down the hall. A smile grew over her face the closer she got to Rainbow’s room. She only hoped Rainbow would be awake when she got there. Knocking on the door, Spitfire waited a moment before Bifrost pulled it open. His cautious look quickly replaced with a kind smile.

“Ahh, Spitfire, come in!” He motioned her through with a hoof.

“Thanks,” she said as she passed, “how is... oh...”

Her words died on her lips as she registered the two alicorns in the room. Celestia regarded her with a polite nod and a kind smile, while Luna eyed her with a calculating gaze. Rainbow twisted her head to see who had come in, a tired grin pulling at her lips when she saw Spitfire.

“Hey, Spitfire.”

“H-hey, Dash,” she mumbled, her brain stalling for a minute before remembering it was considered rude not to bow before the princesses.

“Good afternoon, Captain,” Celestia greeted Spitfire, “how is your wing?”

“Mending, your majesty.”

“That’s good to hear, we all owe you a debt for saving Ms. Dash’s life,” Celestia said, earning a blush from both Spitfire and Rainbow.

“Sh-should I come back later?” Spitfire asked, her eyes flicking nervously from Celestia to Luna.

“No,” Bifrost answered, earning a look from all four mares, “you’re fine right here.”

“Dad, be nice, the princesses are here,” Rainbow admonished.

“It is quite alright,” Celestia gave Rainbow her familiar kind smile. “How are you feeling?”

Rainbow forced a smile of her own. “I’ll be good as new in no time.”

“I’m sure you will, my little pony, though I hope you take the proper time to rest.”

“Oh, she will,” Bifrost answered.

“She definitely will,” Spitfire agreed.

Out of habit, Rainbow attempted to fold her forelegs across her breast. She bit back a yelp when the action irritated her broken ribs. With an irritated sigh she let her hooves fall back to the mattress with a gentle flop.

“I know when to take it easy,” she insisted.

“Rainbow, sweetheart, I love you dearly, but you have a very bad habit of trying to fly before you can glide,” Bifrost said, a tiny smirk pulling at the corner of his mouth.

Rainbow glanced at Spitfire, who tried to hide her snicker behind a hoof. She let out a soft huff, her lips pursed in a small pout. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Bifrost’s lips spread into a grin that sent a cold terror down Rainbow’s back. It was the kind of grin that foretold countless stories that all parents carried of their sons and daughters. It was the destruction of dignity, the harbinger of shame, the crushing of pride. Worse still, she was trapped in a hospital room with nowhere to hide, both princesses of Equestria, and her marefriend, who just happened to be the captain of the Wonderbolts.

“Shut up,” Rainbow preempted her father.

“I didn’t say nothin’!”

“You were gonna.”

“It was a definite maybe.”

“How about you don’t and just pretend you did?”

“Where’s the fun in that?”

“I’ll beat you up.”

“You’d have to catch me first, squirt.”

Rainbow’s cheeks turned bright red. “Don’t call me that in front of them!” she squealed, a hoof waving at the two alicorns and her marefriend.

“Too late,” Bifrost grinned.

Celestia, Luna, and Spitfire stood in silence, their eyes shifting from Rainbow, to Bifrost, and back.

“Sister,” Luna whispered, her hoof giving Celestia’s ribs a light prod, “is this... erm... normal?”

Celestia subtly shook her head, eyes transfixed on the display before her. “I have no idea.”

“Hey,” Bifrost continued, both himself and Rainbow having all but forgotten their company, “everypony starts off as daddy’s little squirt.”

“Dad!” Rainbow sqawked, her face turning red.

“What? It’s just biology.”

“The princesses are standing right there!” Rainbow shouted as loud as she could, which sounded almost like her normal volume, her hoof pointing at the two alicorns.

Bifrost looked over to Celestia and Luna. In a moment of either kismet, perfect cosmic alignment, or sheer insanity, both Celestia and Luna saw the flash of amusement in Bifrost’s eyes. Neither Princess, in all their power and grandeur, could stop what happened next.

“They were daddy’s big squirts.”

Rainbow contemplated if she was physically capable of throwing herself out of the nearest window. Celestia and Luna stared gobsmacked at Bifrost while Spitfire laughed until she cried. Bifrost bit his tongue and held his breath, trying as hard as he could not to laugh.

Celestia seemed to come back to reality first, blinking her eyes and quickly shaking her head in an attempt to forget the last few moments. “Rainbow, can you tell us what happened to you?”

“Hm?” Rainbow lifted her head from her hooves, focusing her attention on Celestia.

“Your accident,” Celestia clarified, happy to finally get a chance at some answers. “We need to know what happened.”

“Yes, yes,” Luna added, still looking a bit... stunned, “Ms. Fleetfoot indicated she got into an argument with you that morning, she feels she is responsible for your injuries.”

Spitfire’s eyes widened, though she managed to—just barely— hold her tongue.

Rainbow’s ears flattened, her eyes drifting downwards. “No... no, it was my fault.”

Bifrost moved closer to Rainbow, concern furrowing his brow. Celestia and Luna waited patiently for Rainbow to elaborate. Taking a steadying breath, Rainbow laid her head back before speaking.

“There was a screw up in our order to the weather factory. I didn’t double check the papers before they got shipped out. Then... on that morning... I... I did something really stupid. I landed on a small thunderhead to wait for more lightning wranglers.” Rainbow lightly thumped her head against the pillow. “Fleetfoot came by and landed on the same cloud. I didn’t say anything to her cause I was worried that she’d panic and set it off and fry us both.”

“Dash,” Bifrost sighed, his head flopping onto the mattress.

“I know!” she grimaced, “I ignored all the safety rules of handling thunderheads.”

“Forgive me,” Luna interrupted, “but I am unfamiliar with weather work. How did you come to get your injuries?”

“Thunderheads are made with a kick trigger,” Bifrost explained. “a solid buck activates the discharge, which is how we start the storm engines. They’re pretty safe if you follow the procedures.”

Spitfire cursed under her breath, a hoof rubbing her forehead. She suddenly knew exactly what happened next in Rainbow’s story.

“When Fleetfoot left,” Rainbow continued, “she jumped off the cloud with a standard kick-off. After that I don’t remember anything until I woke up in this bed.”

“And a “kick-off” is?” Celestia looked to Spitfire.

“It’s how Wonderbolts are trained to get into the sky as fast as possible. You get some air under your wings, and give the ground, cloud, or whatever a good kick for momentum. It’s how we start a lot of the flight shows.”

“I see,” Celestia nodded.

“It was my fault, don’t take it out on the Wonderbolts, or Fleetfoot...” Rainbow reiterated, the last comment directed at Spitfire as much as the Princesses.

Celestia smiled. “I thank you for your honesty, Rainbow Dash.”

The tired weather mare managed a nod. “What happens now?”

“Luna and I shall travel to Ponyville to let Twilight and your friends know you are doing well. We can see to it they get non-stop train tickets to the city if you like.”

Rainbow considered the offer for a moment, her eyes drifting from Spitfire to her father, before setting on Celestia. “No, that’s okay. Could you take them a message though?”

“Of course.”

“Tell them I’m gonna spend some time with my dad and I’ll be home soon, and...” Rainbow looked to Spitfire, her cheeks flushing slightly and her smile nervous. “and I’d like to introduce them to my marefriend.”

A wave of joy flooded Spitfire’s heart and threatened to bring tears to her eyes. Hearing those simple words from Rainbow was enough reassurance to cancel out her irrational fears. Smiling, she moved to Rainbow’s side, taking Rainbow’s hoof in hers.

Celestia gave the couple a kind smile. “Very well, we look forward to seeing you again soon, Rainbow Dash.”

With a brilliant flash of golden light, Celestia and Luna vanished from the room. Only dust-like embers of her magic remained, fading like embers from a fire. Rainbow sighed, her head resting on the pillows.

“I’m sorry...” she whispered.

“We’ll take care of it, Dash,” Bifrost said, “don’t you worry.”

“But, I—”

Bifrost gently pressed a hoof to Rainbow’s lips, shushing her. “You screwed up Rainbow, just like everypony does from time to time. But you’re forgiven, honey, always and forever forgiven.”

“Screw that,” Spitfire playfully winked, “I’m gonna make you pay for this with at least a month of dates.”

Rainbow let out a pained giggle. “I... I can do that.”

Fire & Rain [Reprise]

Nearly three weeks later, Rainbow was finally discharged from Manehattan General Hospital. Her broken wing was still in a cast, though the bandages had long since been removed from her torso. The coat on her abdomen that had been shaved away for the surgery was beginning to regrow as well. Rainbow almost lamented that her “awesome” scar wouldn’t be visible to anypony… almost.

To celebrate her release, Bifrost had invited Spitfire, Soarin’, and Rapidfire out for dinner. They had tried to refuse, only to realize—with Rainbow’s help—that he had no intention of being refused. After painstaking negotiations, they had arrived at a mutually acceptable solution: a nice picnic, out in the countryside.

Spitfire’s concerns about the travel were easy enough to resolve. Bifrost simply ‘borrowed’ a small cloud from the weather team, which she and Rainbow could ride on while he and Soarin’ pushed it. With that settled, all that remained to be decided on was the location for their picnic. Rainbow and Spitfire both agreed: there was only one place that would do.

“How did you two find this place, anyway?” Soarin’ asked, smoothing out the corner of a red and white checkered picnic blanket.

“This is where we landed after Rainbow took me through a sonic rainboom,” Spitfire answered, setting a pair of wicker picnic baskets in the center of the blanket. The comment earned a sheepish smile from the younger mare. “It just kinda became our spot after that.”

Neither mare bothered to mention the… other things… they had done on that hill.

Bifrost scoffed, setting up a portable gramophone and a few records by their picnic spot. “Damn, Rainbow, you’re gonna make the rest of us look like slackers.”

“It’s not my fault I was born this awesome,” Rainbow said with a grin.

“I suppose that would be my fault.” Bifrost sighed, dramatically falling onto his back. “Oh woe is me!”

Rainbow rolled her eyes. “Don’t quit your dayjob, dad.”

“Let’s get those sandwiches out, I’m hungry!” Rapid exclaimed with a toothy grin.

“I second that motion,” Soarin’ said, scooting closer to the baskets and licking his lips.

Spitfire gasped, her hooves covering her mouth. “Oh crap!”

“What?!” four voices demanded.

“I forgot the pie!”

“You WHAT?!” Soarin’ shouted, a look of horror on his face.

Spitfire giggled. “Kidding, it’s in the basket on the left.”

Soarin’ narrowed his eyes. “Ich werde mich rächen, Teufelsweib...”

“You know, if you wanna tell Rapid you love him, there are simpler ways.” Spitfire offered.

Soarin’ pressed his hoof to his forehead with a low growl.

“Screw you with green apples,” Rapid grumbled.

“Kinky,” Spitfire giggled, flipping open the nearest basket and hoofing out sandwich halves to each pony in turn.

“Thanks for buying all this, Mr. Bifrost.” she said as she gave him his sandwich.

“It’s my pleasure, really,” he said with a smile. “There’s fresh honeycomb in there too.”

Rainbow’s eyes widened, her salivary glands going into overdrive. “You’re the best dad ever!”

Bifrost spread his wings and forelegs wide. “Yes, shower me with your adulations.”

Rainbow flicked a green olive at her father. He didn’t flinch as it bounced off his snout and onto the blanket.

“Well, this will be an off-season for the record books.” Soarin’ mused, lifting his sandwich to his lips.

“At least it wasn’t dull,” Rapid said.

“True enough.”

“Hey, Dash?”

“Hmm?” Rainbow glanced over to her marefriend, gulping down the mouthful she had been chewing.

Spitfire desperately tried to control her grin, with poor results. “Remember a few weeks ago when I asked which princess had the best flank?”

Soarin’ choked on his drink.

Rainbow looked suddenly pale. “... Tell me you didn’t…”

“I got a pretty close look at Luna’s,” Spitfire said, looking almost proud of herself, “gotta say; not bad at all.”

Rainbow groaned, hiding her face in her hooves.

“Was this when you ran face first into her ass?” Bifrost asked, a lopsided grin on his lips.

Spitfire giggled, her cheeks feeling that familiar burn. “Yeah.”

“So would you say that Luna mooned you?” Rapid asked, a foalish grin on his face.

A chorus of pained groans erupted from the four pegasi.

“More like she gave a whole new meaning to the term “kiss ass”,” Bifrost said.

“It was an accident!”

“I liked the part when you told her to ‘watch herself’.” He giggled.

“Wait, you did what?” Rainbow struggled to pronounce through her laughter.

“I wasn’t looking where I was going,” Spitfire mumbled.

“I thought you just said you got a good look.” Soarin’ grinned, elbowing her ribs lightly.

“I don’t how she couldn’t have,” Bifrost chuckled, “Hell, I don’t think the royal gynecologist gets a look that good.”

Soarin’s drink forcibly ejected itself from his mouth while Rapidfire choked on his sandwich. Spitfire waved goodbye to her dignity. She would miss it greatly. Rainbow stared at her dad, unsure if she should laugh or be horrified.

“Really, dad?” she managed after a minute.

The rainbow maned stallion shrugged. “You can dress me up, but you can’t take me out.”

Time seemed to fly by for the small group of pegasi, the sandwiches, fresh apple pie, and succulent honeycomb being consumed to the last morsel. Everypony had stories to share, and every story ended in raucous laughter. At some point, Bifrost had started the gramophone. He had selected the first record in the small stack they had with them, the music playing quietly behind their conversations. The record playing had been the one Rainbow and Spitfire had purchased on one of their very first dates. As the evening wore on, Spitfire and Rainbow moved away from the group, sitting together and watching the distant cityscape.

Bifrost reclined against the old oak tree that stood proudly atop the hill. The coarse bark scratched roughly at his back, yet he didn’t mind. His lips held a soft smile and his eyes misted up, fixated on the young couple nearby.

‘Can you see them, Firefly?’ he wondered, hooves squeezing his cup. ‘Our baby girl is all grown up...’

Rainbow leaned against Spitfire, closing her eyes and smiling as they swayed to the music. The older mare smiled, happy to help Rainbow in whatever ways she could. It was a moment of perfection, and Spitfire savored every second of it while it lasted.

“What happens next?” Rainbow asked.

“I don’t know, Dash,” Spitfire answered, kissing Rainbow’s cheek, “we’ll find out together.”

Seemingly satisfied with the answer, Rainbow nuzzled against Spitfire. “I love you.”

Spitfire smiled. “I love you too”

I've seen fire and I've seen rain

I've seen sunny days that I thought would never end.

I've seen lonely times when I could not find a friend

but I always thought that I'd see you again.

Author's Note

Thanks to Sorren, LoyalLiar, The 24th Pegasus, Taxus, Sojourner, and everyone else who helped make Fire & Rain the story it is today. I truly couldn't have done it without the support of all of you wonderful people.

BONUS ROUND 2: Bad Seeds EP

If there was one thing Spitfire and Rainbow Dash had come to learn about musicians in their time hanging out with Kale, Sky, and Niko, it was that there was never just one song. After Sky and Kale had given them a quiet, slow acoustic piece to dance to, Niko and Kale almost immediately fell into their music. Their talons plucking at the strings of their guitars to form new songs that flowed from melancholic to jubilant. Spitfire and Rainbow could only watch in silent appreciation for the love that the brothers poured into their craft.

The music came to a rather abrupt end when one of Kale’s strings snapped with a loud twang. His hand recoiled from the guitar and a quiet curse escaped his beak. Niko simply chucked while Sky moved to her husband’s side.

“Ow! Son of a—” Kale growled, rubbing his sore wrist. “I hate it when they bite me.”

Sky reached out with her forelegs, gently taking his strumming hand between her hooves. “Here, let me see.” Inspecting the limb for a moment, Sky feigned a pout and gently kissed his palm. “Poor thing.”

“Get a room,” Niko teased them.

Sky answered by sticking her tongue out at her brother-in-law. “Technically we’re in a room.”

“Hardy har, Sky,” Niko said, though the corners of his mouth showed a modest smile. Standing up, he slung his guitar over his back and took Kale’s with his hand. “I’ll go put these away, be right back.”

“Wanna grab some drinks while you’re up?” Kale asked.

“You’re a big griffon now, Kale, you can get them.”

“But I got a boo-boo” the younger griffon pouted, holding up the offending limb.

Sky grinned as she snuggled up to Kale. “Yeah, Nik, have a heart!”

“You two give love a bad name. Alright, I’ll be just a minute.”

After Niko disappeared through the door, Spitfire, Rainbow, Sky, and Kale settled into a relaxed conversation. The subjects were not much more than simple small talk on topics ranging from weather management to life on a tight tour schedule. Rainbow had listened intently to that exchange. After all, she planned to be a Wonderbolt herself one day.

The elder griffon returned soon enough with four ciders and a glass of seltzer water with a lime wedge floating in it. He handed out the ciders to the mares in the room, starting with Rainbow and Spitfire. Once everyone had their drinks and was settled comfortably, he took his water and plopped into the cushy pillows with an audible sigh.

“You sure we can’t pay you for these?” Spitfire asked, “I’d hate to take advantage of your hospitality.”

Scoffing, Sky waved a hoof at the Wonderbolt in a dismissive manner. “It’s no biggie, we get this stuff for free.”

Spitfire raised her cup in a simple toast. “Fair enough.”

“You’re not gonna have any?” Rainbow asked Niko, feeling a little more relaxed now that the star-struck nerves were wearing off.

Niko shook his head and scratched his belly. “Nah, I don’t drink anymore.” His eyes shifted to Sky and his expression saddened. “Suffice to say it’s better that way.”

“So, Sky,” Spitfire started, trying to steer the conversation away from what she sensed was a sensitive topic. “What do you say to ponies that have a problem with…” Spitfire rolled her hoof in the air, vaguely gesturing to Sky and Kale. “You know...your relationship.”

After taking a moment to brush an errant tuft of mane from her eyes, Sky offered Spitfire a simple shrug. “I just smile, tell em to ‘have a nice day,’ and then I’m on my way.”

Kale, who had been lounging on the well fluffed pile of pillows sat upright as though he were possessed. “Babe, say that again?”

Sky leaned slightly back from her husband, her eyes widened from the surprising fervor behind his request. “Which part?”

“That thing you said you tell ‘em!” Kale’s left paw gesticulated wildly at the mare while he reached for a pencil and paper with his opposite paw.

“Have a nice day?”

“Yes!” Kale exclaimed, frantically writing the words down. “Gods above, this is why I love you, Sky!”

Sky chuckled and stuck her tongue out at her husband. “And here I thought it was because I was fantastic in the sack.”

“That’s certainly a perk!” Kale shot back, not missing a beat.

Niko simply rolled his eyes and shook his head with a quiet chuckle. He scratched at the back of his neck as he looked to Rainbow and Spitfire. “Watch out, they might forget we’re here and start screwing on the floor.

“Say, what are the chances you guys will be doing a show in Ponyville?” Rainbow asked Sky, her eyes sparkling with excitement. “Cause that would be the best thing ever.”

“Where’s Ponyville?” Niko asked with a tilt of his head.

“Central Equestria, southwest of Canterlot.” Sky answered after a drink of her cider. “Pretty nice place from what I remember last time I was there.”

Rainbow nodded eagerly. “Yeah, it’s pretty awesome for a little town. You guys wouldn’t happen to be doing a show in that area anytime soon, would you?”

Sky tapped her chin with a hoof and thought for a moment. “Let’s see, we’re in Baltimare next week, Troton, Neighagra Falls, Vanhoover, Canterlot…hmm.” Her eyes snapped open and a bright toothy grin pulled her lips apart. “You know what, I think we are in Ponyville in a couple of months!”

“Oh my gosh!” Rainbow squealed, her hooves pressing her cheeks together. “That’s so awesome I could kiss you!”

Spitfire shot Sky a snarky grin. “If you don’t want it, I’ll take it.”

“Be my guest, mares ain’t my thang” Sky said with a good natured laugh.

The feverish writing ceased for a moment as Kale looked over to the mares. “I’ll give you a hundred bits to kiss Sky.”

Rainbow and Spitfire both leaned back in surprise as they exchanged a glance.

“Really?” Rainbow asked first.

“Really really,” Kale answered, ignoring Sky’s bemused glare.

“Why?” Spitfire followed up.

“Cause mares totally are my thang.” Kale said, waggling his eyebrows.

Author's Note

A little bonus scene to set up something in Feathers of Blue and Gold. Hope you all enjoyed! I may do one or two more of these bonus rounds should the idea inspire me.

Guest edited by Draven Eclipse and Skeeter the Lurker!

What Goes Up...

A broad grin spread across Spitfire’s face as she surveyed the Manehattan practice field. She would never have admitted it to anypony, but she kind of preferred it to the Cloudsdale Colosseum that served as the traditional Wonderbolt practice field. The Colosseum certainly had its perks, specifically how it allowed for grand maneuvers, death-defying dives, and spectacular scale in their routines.

The open skies above and below the Cloudsdale Colosseum allowed her Wonderbolts to bring a little theatrical flair into their performances. Along the underside of the Colosseum was a cloud platform where Spitfire could position four Wonderbolts before the show began and have them ‘tag out’ with active members at planned instances during a show. The clandestine tag outs helped to craft the illusion that every Wonderbolt had unparalleled stamina and was capable of impossible turns. Part of the reason they still wore the full-body uniforms was to conceal the switches from the throngs of adoring ponies.

On the other hoof, the Manehattan Stadium was a terrestrial venue; the grassy field provided a much more exciting show in Spitfire’s opinion. The hard ground combined with the wood and stone stadium made for an exponentially more dangerous crash experience. The airspace around the Colosseum was generally cool with a stable wind speed. The grass and dirt under the Manehattan Stadium acted like a heat sponge, providing semi-stable updrafts and wind patterns. Furthermore, she couldn’t hide team members anywhere for mid-show swaps, which meant that the shows had to be paced for either a comparatively short, high-octane show, or methodical endurance shows. Spitfire much preferred the former. The speed, the difficulty, the danger—it was better than almost anything to her. Spitfire lived for the euphoric thrill of getting as close as she could to the metaphorical fire without getting burned.

So, it was with a spring in her step that she trotted onto the soft grassy field of Manehattan Stadium, the stands currently devoid of spectators. Soarin’, her second-in-command and closest friend, walked just behind her. Ahead of her were ten other Wonderbolts, each a superb stunt flier in their own right. On practice days they didn’t wear their signature blue and gold uniforms, preferring instead to keep things more casual. They were relaxing, chatting and laughing in the afternoon sun.

“Alright, kiddies, line it up!” she hollered.

The team reacted immediately, forming a shoulder to shoulder line, facing both her and Soarin' at perfect attention. Spitfire allowed herself a little smile. “We’ve got a show in this bucket in three days. This isn’t Cloudsdale or Las Pegasus. We’ve got no clouds to crash into if you lose control during maneuvers. I want everypony partnered up and practicing their maneuvers until quitting time.

“The show’s pattern will be our standard routine for earth pony venues. The opener will be the Aileron Flyby into pattern four. After that we have the standard five lap race followed by freestyle flying. I don’t want any of you knuckleheads doing anything crazy. Last I checked, none of us had figured out a rainboom.” She gave a pointed glare to Fleetfoot, who grinned sheepishly. “The finale will be divided into two groups. Group one: Fleetfoot, Blaze, Misty, and Lightning Streak. You’re with Soarin'. Group two: Rapidfire, Wavechill, Surprise, and Highwinds; you’re with me. Group one will perform the Celestial Starburst. Group two will perform the Lunar Moonburst. I expect nothing but the best from all of you. Questions?” Spitfire gave each of them time to consider the plan.

Rapidfire raised a hoof first. “Any VIP’s in attendance?”

“The mayor and a few local politicians,” Spitfire said. “We are, as always, expected to hobnob with them for at least a little while, so tell your marefriend you’ll be home late.”

Rapidfire rolled his eyes. “At least I have one,” he retorted, earning a loud ‘oooooo’ from the other Wonderbolts and a deathly glare from Spitfire.

“You can be replaced, you know,” she growled.

“Yeah, yeah. You’ve been saying that since we were kids. Maybe one day I’ll take it seriously.” He winked at his fraternal twin.

Spitfire groaned and rolled her eyes. “Of all the idiot brothers in the world, I get shafted with you.”

“Captain?” Blaze spoke up, her hoof raised slightly.

“Yeah, Blaze?”

“Has Princess Celestia gotten back to you about our training request?” Blaze asked, a glimmer of hope in her eyes.

Spitfire felt her heart sink. “Same answer I got last year. Sorry, guys. The rainboom is still out of our reach.” She forced her expression to remain neutral, even as every other pony bemoaned the decision to varying degrees, Fleetfoot looking particularly put-out by the news.

“Did she at least give us a reason this time?” Fleetfoot asked, her wings giving an irritable twitch.

“She doesn’t want to risk an Element on, and I’m quoting here, ‘a pursuit of pride.’ Sorry, guys, but we’ve just got to be patient for another couple of years until she decides to apply for the team.”

Fleetfoot grumbled to herself as she pawed at the grass underhoof.

“No sense pouting over what we can’t have. Now get your heads in the game. I want everypony in the skies and practicing. You all know the drills, so get going. Now!” Spitfire waved them off. Each Wonderbolt delivered a crisp salute before taking to the skies and breaking into pairs. Spitfire watched them from her position on the ground. She allowed herself a moment of pride as her Wonderbolts expertly went through their maneuvers, each team of two partnering with a second group just long enough to practice a larger trick before breaking off again in an elaborate aerial ballet. Soarin' stepped up beside her, his wings fluttering excitedly.

“Not your best speech today, boss.”

Spitfire elbowed his ribs. “Like you could do better.”

Soarin' shrugged and snickered. “Never said I could.”

“Come on, Soarin', the skies are clear and the winds are right! Let’s get some flying done!” Spitfire grinned brightly as she took to the air with a mighty flap of her golden wings.

Twisting upwards in a tight corkscrew, Spitfire savored the roar of the wind as it rushed past her ears and danced through her mane and coat. Her grin grew wider as her wings flared out and her feathers caught the air, bringing her to a stop high above the grassy field. There, in the pristine skies, Spitfire was at home. There, she was alive.

Soarin' wasn’t far behind her. The sky blue stallion had the largest wingspan of all the Wonderbolts. It had proven to be both his greatest asset and liability. He could gain and maintain speed quickly in a straight line, but he wasn’t as maneuverable as smaller pegasi like Spitfire. In only a few flaps of his wings, Soarin' was side by side with Spitfire, grinning like a foal.

“Five laps around the stadium for a warm up sound good?” he called to her over the wind.

“I’ll race ya!” she called back before darting ahead.

“Hey! No fair!” he shouted as he gave chase.

Spitfire knew her advantage would only be short lived. Soarin’s powerful wings were quickly shrinking the distance between them. She drifted to the inside of their aerial track. If she could take the corners at a much steeper angle, Soarin' would have a much more difficult time catching her. The corner tactic was how Fleetfoot was regularly able to beat Soarin' when they raced.

If Spitfire was to be honest with herself, though, she would have to admit that she was getting just a little soft around the edges since becoming team captain. She flew less than she used to, her time now occupied with coordinating show schedules, doling out the payroll, and putting out fires between the disparate personalities that made up the Wonderbolts. Needless to say, it wasn’t quite the job her predecessor had sold her on.

Her excitement at being away from the sedentary duties of team captain bypassed her old safety habits. Flapping her wings as hard as she could, she found herself pulling further away from Soarin'. As she banked hard for the first turn, she felt a pop in her right wing’s bicep.

Not good!

“Soarin’!” she shouted just before her wing locked up, the bicep itself tensing until the fibers of the muscle felt like a scalding-hot rock under her skin. Through the excruciating pain she was just able to notice the grass was getting awfully close.

This is gonna hurt.

Then everything went black.

When Spitfire awoke, she was in a simple room surrounded by light tan walls. After a moment to look around, she surmised that she was in a hospital room. Her brother, Rapidfire, was dozing fitfully in a chair beside her bed. Her attempt to sit upright ended about an inch after it started. With a heavy groan, she flopped back onto her pillow. Rapidfire’s eyes fluttered open at the sound, glancing around the room momentarily before settling on the bedridden mare.

“Spits!” The volume of Rapid’s shout earned a wince from his sister. Any attempt she might have made to say something was thoroughly quashed when he wrapped her in a bone-crushing hug. “You idiot! You scared me half to death!”

“Urk! Rapid… Air!” she choked out.

Crimson blossomed across Rapidfire’s cheeks, and with a muttered apology he loosened his grip.

“Thanks,” she wheezed.

“Sure,” he said, his hoof reaching up to tousle her mane. “You’re still an idiot, though.”

Spitfire allowed herself another groan as she flopped her head back on the pillow. “What happened?”

“According to Soarin', you pushed yourself too hard before your wings were properly warmed up. At first he thought you were diving to gain speed; by the time he realized you were falling, it was too late for him to make the catch. After that, you decided to get into a headbutting contest with the ground. Three guesses how that turned out,” he said with a playful grin. “The doctors said you tore the bicep in your wing.”

Spitfire grumbled.

“I’ll go get the doc,” Rapidfire said as he rose to his hooves. “He’ll want to know you’re finally awake.”

“Finally? How long was I out?”

Rapidfire paused, a hoof rubbing at his chin. “Almost two days now.”

Spitfire’s brain ground to a halt. The information was like a slap in her face. She was the captain of the Wonderbolts. To be on the injured roster was bad enough, but to also be comatose for two days! The media would have a field day when they found out. The possible fallout left her staring at the ceiling in horror. She didn’t even notice that Rapidfire had left until the doctor’s voice forced it’s way into her awareness.

“Ah, Ms. Spitfire.” The brown-coated unicorn smiled down at her. “Good to see you’re finally awake. You had us all a bit worried. I’m Dr. Bay.” He paused. “How are you feeling?” He retrieved a small flashlight from the pocket of his jacket with his magic.

“I’ve got a headache, and my wing aches pretty bad,” she answered, hissing slightly as he flashed the light into her right eye, then into her left.

“Well, you had a pretty good crash,” Bay said. “I’d be surprised if you were feeling great.”

Spitfire groaned. “Just gimme the damage report, Doc.”

Rapidfire’s glance shifted nervously from his sister to the doctor.

Dr. Bay studied her for a moment with his emerald eyes. “Do you want your brother to stay for this, or shall I see him out first?”

Spitfire’s amber eyes shifted to her brother, who offered a sheepish smile in return. “He’s fine.”

Dr. Bay nodded once before beginning. “Well, the good news is you managed to avoid breaking any bones in the fall, and your concussion seems to be healing well.” He paused for a breath. “The bad news, however, is that your wing wasn’t so lucky.”

Spitfire winced from the implications. “So, what?” she asked. “Keep off it for a week or two?”

A subtle frown formed on Bay’s lips. “Spitfire,” he said, the tone of his voice making her heart skip a beat, “you have a second-degree strain in your wing. You nearly tore the muscle in half lengthwise! I honestly can’t decide whether I should be concerned or impressed!”

Spitfire stared up at him, her ears splaying out as she lightly chewed on her bottom lip for a moment. “W-what are you saying?”

“I’m sorry, Spitfire, but you’re not flying anywhere for at least a month or two. Until your muscle has had time to mend, you are grounded. After we’ve determined that the damage is sufficiently healed, a physical therapist will take over your care.”

“I’m the Captain of the Wonderbolts!” she snapped, wincing at the pain in her skull. “I can’t be grounded for that long! I have a team to run!”

“Let me be crystal clear about this, Captain,” Bay started, the humor evaporating from his voice instantly. “If you overstress your wing before it heals properly, you are at serious risk for a third-degree tear. If that happens, then it would be a Celestia-blessed miracle if you ever flew again.”

“T-then just call a surgeon and stitch the thing back together!” Spitfire pleaded, adrenaline starting to flow into her aching body. Her eyes went wide, and she grabbed tightly at the starched sheets.

Rapidfire moved closer to the bed, his hoof reaching out to rest on top of her foreleg.

“Surgery is what will happen if you tear the muscle any further, and it would only slow down potential recovery. I’m sorry, Spitfire, but you’ll just have to tough this one out for a while. We’ll keep you here one more night just to make sure there are no lingering issues from the crash. If everything checks out, you can leave tomorrow morning.”

“T-thanks, Doc,” Rapidfire sputtered quickly. “We really appreciate everything. Uh, do you mind if I just talk to her alone for a bit?”

Bay curiously quirked an eyebrow but nodded and excused himself quickly enough. Rapidfire waited for the door to click shut before facing his twin. Spitfire was staring at the ceiling, her eyes simply vacant.

“Spits?” he said lightly, resting a hoof on her shoulder. “I know that look, and I don’t like it. Talk to me, sis.”

Spitfire shook her head, her lips pulled into a thin line and her brows furrowed together. “My career is over.”

“Oh come on. You’re just being melodramatic. You’ll be better in no time, and this will just be another story that gets passed around the bar after an awesome show!”

Spitfire leveled a weary glare at her brother. “I screwed up a basic warm up!” she hissed angrily. “I ignored every rule of show flying for a dumb thrill. If I had done something like that during a show, somepony could’ve been hurt, or even killed! The press is gonna have a field day with this! I’ll be lucky if Arcus only suspends me indefinitely!” She swiped a hoof through the air before bringing it to rest over her eyes.

“Coulda been worse,” Rapidfire said with a smirk. “Mom and Dad could’ve been watching.”

Spitfire’s eyes went wide and a shudder ran through her body before she banished that particular horror from her mind. “I’m so royally screwed, I might as well be the third princess,” Spitfire bemoaned. “I might as well have just binged on salt and hard cider before a show.”

Rapidfire’s face contorted as he tried not to giggle as he considered the implications of his sister’s comment. Then he composed himself before speaking. “Look, Spits, as good as you are at running the Wonderbolts and controlling their admittedly colossal—and arguably well-deserved—egos, you do kinda have a habit for expecting the worst, and I suppose I can’t really blame you in some cases Arcus is an exceedingly pragmatic team manager, and most of the time, that’s a good thing.”

He paused, taking a moment to consider his next words carefully. “It does make things difficult when the media occasionally picks up on some of the more… private workings of the team, but this isn’t one of those times. You may have a point about taking some flak for the crash, but you were clean,” he said finally, “and it was just an accident. Soarin' can vouch for that. Poor stallion feels terrible for not being able to catch you. It’s not the end of the world.”

Spitfire sighed, her foreleg covering her eyes.

“I’m the team captain,” she said, her voice hushed and her eyes downcast. “The captain doesn’t get to screw up like this.”

“Everypony messes up now and then,” he retorted.

“Rapid,” Spitfire started, her gaze locking with his, “if the media doesn’t eat me alive for this, Arcus will.”

Rapidfire sighed and shook his head.

“Tell you what, Spits,” he said as he stretched his wings. “Why don’t you get some rest? I’ll let the team know how you’re doing and see what I can do to smooth Arcus’ feathers while I’m at it. Okay?”

Spitfire acknowledged the plan with a dismissive grunt.

He gave her another light hug before he started towards the door. “I’m glad you’re alright.”

With that final sentiment, Rapidfire disappeared out the door, leaving Spitfire alone with her thoughts.

Author's Note

Please rate and comment, thanks!

Fire & Rain

When the film was over, Spitfire and Rainbow Dash exited the cinema together, each quoting lines and laughing. Spitfire noticed that Rainbow seemed to be walking a bit closer to her than she had been earlier. It was a small gesture, but it signaled to the Wonderbolt that Rainbow was feeling more comfortable with the idea of a relationship.

‘Don’t get ahead of yourself, Spitfire.’

“That was the best movie ever!” Rainbow beamed, her excitement and energy nearly contagious. “Thanks for buying the tickets.”

“Well, let’s see now, I got to see an awesome movie, got some free snacks, and had an awesome mare to spend some time with; I call that a hay of a deal!” Spitfire winked.

“Yeah, I’m kinda awesome,” Rainbow smirked. “But you’re pretty good too.” She retorted, playfully nudging Spitfire in the ribs.

“Ooo, somepony thinks she’s a hotshot,” Spitfire challenged, her playful tone and noticeable grin not doing much to cover the fun she was having.

Rainbow made a show of polishing her hoof against her chest in the most disinterested way she could manage. “Well, I’ve only saved Equestria a couple times; done a few Rainbooms. Nothin’ real big.” She winked to Spitfire.

“Too bad my wing is messed up,” Spitfire countered with a playful nudge. “Otherwise I might have to embarrass you in front of everypony.”

“Oh, it is so on!” Rainbow grinned, her competitive nature forcing its way to the surface. Spitfire couldn’t contain the laughter any longer, and pulled Rainbow into a sidelong hug with one foreleg.

“Okay then, how ‘bout a race.”

“R-really?” Rainbow perked up, almost giddy at the idea of racing her idol.

“Really,” Spitfire nodded. “And when I win, everypony will get to see just how cute you look when you’re embarrassed.” She winked again.

“I don’t do cute!” Rainbow protested as her face turned beet red.

“Somepony forgot her floaties,” Spitfire teased in singsong.

“I—wait…What?” Rainbow stared in befuddlement.

“Floaties... You know? Swimming in Denial?” Spitfire explained.

Rainbow simply blinked. “That is the weirdest line ever.”

“Never mind,” Spitfire groaned, resisting the urge to smack herself in the face. “So, Dash, what should we do next?”

Rainbow took a moment to look to where the sun was in the sky, quickly gauging how much daylight was left. “Well, before it gets too late, I should find a hotel to stay in. You wouldn’t happen to know of any affordable places nearby would you?”

Spitfire thought for a moment. She was used to having her booking hoofed to her by Arcus or a member of the support staff. That said, she still took personal trips from time to time, though her budget was probably far more flexible than the salary a weather manager could afford.

“Well,” She started slowly, “I know that anything along Mane Street is good quality, and they usually have pretty good prices too from what I remember.”

Rainbow nodded, her wings instinctively spreading before she remembered Spitfire’s injury. She blushed and grinned apologetically. “Sorry. I’m not used to walking everywhere.”

Spitfire shrugged nonchalantly. “Meh, neither am I. Ah well, that’s life; no sense crying about it now,” Spitfire smiled. She couldn’t blame Rainbow for wanting to fly; it was simply the nature of a pegasus to be in the skies. Setting those thoughts aside for the time being, she took a step ahead of Rainbow and motioned for the weather mare to follow. “Shall we?”

“Right behind you,” Rainbow answered.

Spitfire gasped melodramatically, pressing a hoof to her chest and feigning outrage. “Why, Rainbow, such a perverse filly!”

“Oh please, your plot isn’t that hot.”

“So you have been looking,” she winked.

Rainbow’s face turned crimson again. “No! I-Ju…you….wh—” She pressed her hoof to her face and groaned. “I crashed right into that one.”

Spitfire patted Rainbow’s withers gently. “Don’t worry; if anypony asks, just tell them it was an unscheduled snack stop.”

“That is so wrong…”

Spitfire led Rainbow through the bustling Manehattan streets with the confidence granted by frequent travel experience. She was grateful that she was both in Manehattan and out of uniform. In Cloudsdale, every Wonderbolt was a celebrity, and every pegasus knew what they looked like without the uniforms thanks to a very talented, and intrusive, group of paparazzi photographers that seemed to make camp outside of the team’s headquarters.

In Manehattan, there were a few ponies in the media circles that knew the team out of uniform, but the market for the photos was almost nonexistent. Earth ponies and unicorns enjoyed watching the team perform like every other pony, but beyond that they cared very little about the private lives of celebrity pegasi.

It was this indifference that made Manehattan a popular vacation spot for Spitfire and the rest of her team. Without their uniforms and the familiar windswept look to their manes, they blended in very easily with the rest of the city. Some of the team even preferred to spend the off-season living in the earth pony city. She knew at least half the team leased apartments year round for that express purpose. Spitfire could certainly understand why.

If she were in Cloudsdale, the press would have been swarming her the instant she set hoof out of the hospital. She didn’t even want to think about attempting a legitimate date there; the fake dates with Soarin resulted in hours of being stalked by paparazzi ponies. The mere thought of showing up with a mare for a date in Cloudsdale was enough to make Spitfire feel queasy.

She snuck a glance at Rainbow as they walked; the younger mare’s attention was currently distracted by the Manehattan architecture. How would she handle that sort of spotlight? Was it fair to ask her to endure that if this one night turned out to be only the first of many? Spitfire fought back a sigh. She didn’t know what might happen, and she absolutely hated not knowing.

When they rounded the next corner, Spitfire spotted a familiar red unicorn trotting casually in their direction, his eyes focused on a notepad. Spitfire’s eyes went wide.

“Oh buck my life.” She uttered. Without thinking, she hooked a foreleg around Rainbow and pulled the oblivious mare back. The comedy of Rainbow’s very surprised yelp was lost on her as she dragged the weather manager into the nearest shop.

“What the hay, Spitfire?” Rainbow groused, a look of bewilderment spreading over her face when she noticed the mare in question crouched low, only her eyes peering out of the storefront’s bay window.

“Sorry, sorry. We gotta lay low for a minute.” She whispered, moving up slightly to get a better view.

“Uh … what are you doing?” Rainbow asked.

“Hiding from him.”

“Who is ‘him’? Are we talking a pony, or some weird two legged thing with crab claw arms instead of hooves?” Rainbow smirked.

Spitfire stared at her in bewilderment before shaking the image free of her mind. “Unicorn…a unicorn named Red Top. He runs the Manehattan Enquirer.”

“I’m guessing that’s a bad thing?” Rainbow surmised with a raised eyebrow.

“It’s a gossip paper. They find a piece of news, they write up whatever story they think will sell to fit with it, and they don’t have any sense of shame. There was a DJ not too long ago they did a cover on, not sure if or how she recovered from that. It was… bad,” Spitfire explained.

“Okay, so, uh…why don’t you just tell him to buck off?” Rainbow asked, the simplicity of the question giving Spitfire a chuckle.

“I wish it was that simple.” She gasped and ducked down a bit. “There he is.”

“Yeah, there are several unicorns on the street,” Rainbow noted flatly. “Which one is he?”

“Look for the reddish-orange one with a notepad,” Spitfire replied.

Rainbow spotted him quickly enough, a tall unicorn stallion that had the majority of his attention focussed on the notebook levitating in front of his face. Saddlebags obscured the mark on his flank. As he made his way past the storefront window, Spitfire pressed flat against the wall, doing her best impression of a chameleon, which wasn’t a particularly good one.

Rainbow studied the stallion curiously. He seemed like a normal enough unicorn to her, but she wasn’t exactly a celebrity. The only one of the Elements of Harmony who ever got any level of celebrity treatment was Twilight, and that was more due to her status as Princess Celestia’s protégé than anything else. Red Top seemed to notice her staring, his gaze shifting from his notepad to her. Rainbow nodded politely, a gesture that Red Top politely returned. He never broke from his trot as he disappeared down the street in the throng of Manehattan ponies.

“Well,” Rainbow started. “Looks like he’s gone now.”

“Phew, that’s a relief,” Spitfire replied, flopping against the floor.

“Are you two planning on buying something, or are you just gonna play hide and seek?” asked an older mare from behind them. The question startled both pegasi into finally noticing that the shop they had spontaneously chosen to hide in was, in fact, a bridal shop. With a quick apology, both mares made a beeline for the exit and trotted quickly down the street. Spitfire was the first to break the awkward silence between them.

“We shall never speak of this,” Spitfire insisted. “Never.”

Rainbow smirked, sensing an opportunity for precious vengeance. “Gee Spitfire, not even one full date and you’re already trying to plan our wedding,” she chided playfully. Spitfire nearly tripped at the implication, barely managing to catch herself in a more or less dignified manner.

“Marriage? Me?” Spitfire guffawed. “As if I could be tied down so easily!”

“Tied down, huh?” Rainbow mused, sending Spitfire into cold horror as she realized the implications of what she had just said. She slowly looked over to Rainbow, who was doing her very best to keep her smirk reigned in.

“Kinky,” Rainbow said, her voice intonating Hedley LaMane from the film they had just seen together.

“And now it’s my turn to take a sudden snack stop,” Spitfire groaned. Rainbow patted her on the back and smiled.

“Don’t worry, Spitfire, you’re still cool,” Rainbow said with a bright grin. Spitfire chuckled, silently thanking any and every god, demon, and spirit that her brother had not been present for that exchange.

“Come on, Dash, let’s find you a hotel and then get some dinner,” she said cheerily.

“Sounds good,” Rainbow replied, giving Spitfire a playful salute.

Together, they trotted through the bustling city until they found a cluster of hotels along the Mane Street strip for Rainbow to peruse. Spitfire found yet another surprise in the younger mare as she proved to be very money conscious. She went to each hotel and spent several minutes talking with the ponies behind the counters about long-term renting rates, incentives, and any business discounts they offered before she settled on one of the few hotels that offered pegasus cloud beds in the upper rooms. Once she had filled out the papers and received a key, the two exited the building to find themselves being lightly rained upon.

“Oh you have got to be kidding me!” Rainbow glared angrily up at the skies. “It took those ponies all day to set this up?!”

“Maybe they had to build the clouds themselves,” Spitfire snickered.

“Oh I am gonna kick their flanks so hard tomorrow that they’ll feel it next month,” Rainbow said through gritted teeth.

Spitfire couldn’t help but smile. “You take a lot of pride in your work.”

Rainbow nodded slightly, her magenta eyes keenly studying the overcast sky. “There’s no point in doing something unless you intend to give it all you’ve got.”

‘Ha ha, give it all—No, no! Shut Up brain!’ Spitfire cursed her own dirty mind. She nodded, leaving the easy innuendo joke alone for once.

“I can understand that,” Spitfire said. “I expect everypony on the team to hold absolutely nothing back for a show. We live to fly, so why not act like it?”

Rainbow nodded, seemingly more focused on the cloud cover than Spitfire’s comment. Any normal mare might have been irritated by the seeming indifference, but Spitfire wasn’t just any pony. She knew that look, the look of a mare that was fiercely proud of her work and took it very seriously. The Wonderbolt saw that same look in the mirror every time she was preparing for a show. She had seen it in her parent’s faces when she and Rapid were little, and it was in Arcus’ face every time she saw him.

Spitfire couldn’t be irritated with a pony like that. She respected that kind of attitude far too much to be annoyed by it. That said, she still wasn’t a weather pony, nor did she plan to become one.

“So, uh, mind telling me what you’re lookin’ for?” she asked.

There was a momentary pause before Rainbow seemed to realize Spitfire was talking to her. “Huh? Oh, sorry.” She pointed her hoof up to the sky, drawing Spitfire’s attention to a line of slowly moving clouds. “See the movement there, where the clouds are drifting west?”

Spitfire squinted for a moment, her eyes scanning the cloud cover until she spotted the movement Dash was talking about. “Yeah?”

“Those are the trade winds. Whoever’s the interim manager up there keeps placing them too high. It’s not that big of a problem for water distribution, but it is making the cloud pushers work way too hard just to keep the rain in the city.” She sighed. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t be getting annoyed about this.”

“Hey,” Spitfire put her hoof on Rainbow’s shoulder. “There is no shame in taking pride in your work.”

Something about that comment made Rainbow flinch visibly. Spitfire noticed the movement and the look that flashed over Rainbow’s face. Something clearly was bothering the younger mare, though exactly what was a mystery. Spitfire held her tongue; whatever it was, she would it leave alone until Rainbow was ready to talk about it; assuming she ever did feel like opening up about it.

“I guess,” Rainbow answered softly.

“Come on,” Spitfire patted her back. “Let’s get some dinner. My treat.”

“I can pay my share,” Rainbow protested.

“Consider it a belated ‘thanks for saving my life’ dinner,” Spitfire winked.

“Fine...” Rainbow smirked slightly. “But I get to pay for the next one.”

“Oooh, I suppose,” Spitfire replied playfully. The implicit promise of a second date with Rainbow Dash was definitely not an unpleasant prospect.

Spitfire led them to a fancier place she knew on upper Mane Street, simply called Club White. The casually furnished establishment had a large bar area with many small round tables set in front of a small performance stage. Booths lined most of the walls that were adorned with countless photos of performers and celebrities that had either played at the club, or had given it their patronage.

To the surprise of both mares, the performer for the evening was a griffon. He was sitting comfortably on a bar stool with an acoustic guitar strapped over his shoulder. The instrument was only playable by griffons, their talons giving them the dexterity necessary to play complicated arpeggios and patterns that even prodigal unicorn musicians had difficulty in replicating. Beside the stage was a tip jar half-full of bits, and beside him was a box of records available for sale.

“He’s pretty good,” Rainbow commented as they were shown to a table.

“Yeah he is,” Spitfire agreed, impressed. Both mares opened their menus; Spitfire casually read through the options.

Rainbow gasped. “S-Spitfire, I-I can’t ask you to pay these prices!” She stared, almost horrified at the Wonderbolt.

Spitfire smiled calmly, her hoof reaching out and resting on Dash’s. “Rainbow, this is my treat. Order anything you like.”

Rainbow’s ears folded back timidly. “I-I just don’t wanna be a moocher.”

“Don’t worry, Dash. Just relax and have some fun.” She reassured her date. Rainbow blushed and nodded lightly.

She ordered a comparatively cheap entrée and a glass of water, while Spitfire ordered herself something slightly more expensive and a lavish cocktail. The griffon started a song that both mares found entrancing as their food was delivered .

“That’s a really pretty song,” Spitfire commented absently.

“Yeah, it really is,” Rainbow agreed.

Oh, I've seen fire and I've seen rain.
I've seen sunny days that I thought would never end.
I've seen lonely times when I could not find a friend,
but I always thought that I'd see you baby,
one more time again.

Rainbow the Boss Lady (Part Deux)

Rainbow was in an unusually good mood for a Friday morning. She had gotten a fantastic night of sleep, there had been no line at the bagel shop she stopped at for breakfast on her way to work, and the flight to her office had been essentially perfect.

She should have known something was about to go wrong.

She had barely started reading the weekend weather schedule when Headwind, Dewdrop, and Flash Cloud piled into her office. Headwind and Flash Cloud were bickering over some issue that Rainbow knew would probably be her problem in the immediate future, while Dewdrop trailed close behind them with a look of abject boredom plastered on her face.

‘Dad warned me about days like this,’ Rainbow lamented as she suppressed a sigh and tried to focus on what the two stallions were arguing about

“If it’s just bodies you’re concerned about,” Flash Cloud started, “then you can always hire more Pegasi. It’s not like cloud pushing is hard to teach.”

“That’s not the point,” Headwind retorted. “The point is that you’ve shanghaied half of my crew managers for your training program!”

“Not my fault they were born with lightning resistance.” Feeling confident his point had been made, Flash gave Headwind a smug grin.

“How in the hay am I supposed to replace twenty-two crew managers and forty-eight cloud pushers in any sort of timely manner? We had our hooves full enough, and that was before most of our clouds got wrecked Wednesday night,” Headwind countered, his hoof running though his chestnut-colored mane.

Rainbow bit her tongue and did her best to keep a neutral expression. Yesterday had been nothing but awkward after she had gotten to work and realized that her rainboom had thrown all of Wednesday’s work over a good portion of the city. She was very glad that either nopony on the weather team had realized the rainboom had caused the problems, or that they all had the good sense not to ask her about it.

“My rain teams will cover for you when they can,” Dewdrop said softly.

“In fairness, Dewdrop,” Flash interjected, “your rain ponies are spread pretty thin already.”

“I know, but they can still help if Headwind’s got a team in their sectors,” she answered.

“Or Headwind could just work harder,” Flash teased.

“Alright, alright, let’s settle down and go over today’s plan,” Rainbow cut in, deciding to move things along before the argument could get heated. She waited for all three of them to be seated before she began. “Okay, so first thing’s first: Flash, have you got all the lightning wranglers assembled?”

“Yeah. All sixty candidates will be waiting for us on the east side of town where we receive all the weather shipments. I’ve broken them into teams of four with one of my current lightning wranglers acting as a team supervisor for the duration of their training.”

“Awesome.” Rainbow allowed herself a small smile. “You and I will head over there next.”

“Sounds good, boss lady.” Flash replied with a salute.

“Cool.” Rainbow quickly glanced down at the schedule on her desk. There was a lot to get done before quitting time, and Rainbow had no intention of being late to meet Spitfire after work.

“Alright,” Rainbow started, looking at Headwind and Dewdrop, “Dewdrop, the farms north of the city are scheduled for three hours of rain. We also need to get a light shower over the midtown parks sometime this afternoon. Then I need you to start planning for next month’s storm.”

“I’ll make sure it’s ready,” the saffron-colored mare answered with a polite smile.

“Good.” She turned her attention to the light-green stallion. “Headwind, how many clouds are we missing since Wednesday night’s… um…” she paused, catching herself before she said ‘rainboom’, “…thingy?”

“We’re down roughly twenty-three percent,” he answered plainly. “If you add clouds that were damaged and need to be reshaped and replaced, then the number gets closer to thirty percent.”

“Okay.” Rainbow frowned. She had never really given much thought to quite how much her rainboom was capable of affecting her surroundings. “Well, there isn’t much we can do about that right now.” She frowned and rubbed her chin thoughtfully.

“Coulda been worse,” Flash offered. “Coulda been raining.”

Dewdrop rolled her eyes. “You could use the shower, Flash,” she lightly chided him.

“Hey, I can’t help it. It’s not easy to keep a hundred pounds of rippling stallion contained!”

Dewdrop smacked herself in the face with her hoof and groaned loudly. Headwind stifled a giggle and hoofbumped Flash Cloud.

“How in the world are you married?” Dewdrop asked despondently.

“Okay, moving on!” Rainbow interjected quickly. She gave the three managers a moment to refocus on her before she looked to Headwind. “Headwind, I need you to do what you can with the clouds we’ve got left. We’re scheduled for about fifty percent coverage all day.”

“No promises on keeping to that plan with a quarter of my team transferred to the lightning team,” Headwind complained.

“For the last time,” Rainbow started, doing her best to keep her voice neutral, “there needed to be a big increase in the number of lightning wranglers. The rain teams can’t do it for safety reasons; you can train new cloud pushers much faster than we can train new lightning wranglers. It was the best solution.”

“Whatever you say,” Headwind replied sarcastically.

Rainbow bit back a growl and forced herself to take a calming breath. “As I was saying,” she continued after a moment, “fifty percent coverage for today. I’ll be busy training the new lightning wranglers, so when you’re done with that, I need you to place the order for next month’s storm. If you send the order to the weather factory today, then we should get the shipment in the next two or three weeks.”

“That’s no fun,” Headwind groaned, kicking his hoof at the floor.

“That’s why it’s called work,” Flash said with a smirk as he nudged Headwind in the ribs.

“Go suck a rock.” Headwind rolled his eyes.

“Hm,” Flash Cloud put a hoof to his chin, feigning a look of deep contemplation, “well, they are very high in minerals.”

“The orders need to be signed by a senior manager,” Rainbow reminded Headwind while ignoring Flash. “Flash and I won’t have the time, and there’s almost no way Dewdrop will be finished with her work early enough to do it either. Sorry but you’re the only one who’s gonna have the time to get the paperwork in by the end of the day.”

“I’ll take care of it,” Headwind relented with a sigh.

“Great, thanks!” Rainbow smiled happily. In truth, she probably could have done it on her own, but then she definitely wouldn’t be on time for her date, and that simply wasn’t an option.

“Do we know how many cloud batches we’ll need?” Headwind asked.

Rainbow shuffled through the papers on her desk for a moment.“Well, according to the notes Downburst left me, for a citywide storm, he usually ordered five containers of thunderheads, and thirty five containers rain clouds,” Rainbow answered as she read the normal manager’s notes. “I’m assuming that’s enough to cover the whole city.”

“It depends,” Dewdrop interrupted. “Our coverage tends to be a bit thin on the outskirts of the city, and if it’s not a great batch of clouds, things might get a bit spotty.”

“Five full shipments of thunderheads is more than enough to power the storm engine though,” Flash added. “We usually have a few leftover after that too.”

“Okay, then we’ll stick to the five shipments of thunderheads, and order an extra dozen rain clouds. That should leave the rain team with enough clouds to cover the whole city and have a few to spare.”

“Sounds good to me!” Dewdrop said with a grin.

“Great!” Rainbow smiled happily. “Any questions before we all get to work?”

“Nope!” Dewdrop answered.

“I’m good,” Headwind said.

“Nah,” Flash answered with a shrug.

“Good.” Rainbow stood and started for the door. “Dewdrop, Headwind, I’ll see you two Monday. Flash, let’s go teach some lightning wrangling!”

“Aww yeah!” The light grey stallion cheered.

The four Pegasi quickly made their way out of the office. Dewdrop and Headwind each flew off in opposite directions, while Flash Cloud led Rainbow Dash to the weather receiving area.

All the cities and towns in Equestria that had a weather team also allotted space on the periphery where Pegasi from the weather factory could safely store clouds for upcoming weather events and sort the shipments for distribution. Much of the organizational process had been adapted from the Royal Mail Service, which also relied heavily on Pegasi to run at peak efficiency.

Even the comparatively tiny weather team in Ponyville had a staging area where all the clouds were kept until they were needed. When Rainbow had been promoted to Weather Manager, one of her first tasks had been to relocate the entire area to a position closer to Sweet Apple Acres. Her reasoning had been that it was more efficient to keep the rain clouds closer to the farms where they were needed most often. So far, it had worked out very well for everypony.

Dash didn’t have the experience with the Manehattan teams to know if their staging area was set up as efficiently as is could be. Even if it wasn’t, about all she could do was leave a note for Downburst that recommended changes, and possibly get Dewdrop, Headwind, and Flash Cloud to put some pressure on him as well.

Rainbow put those thoughts out of her mind once the staging area came into view. Flash Cloud’s current lightning wranglers had taken some of the stored clouds and put them together to form a large platform cloud that all the recruited cloud pushers could stand on while they waited. They had also, per his instructions, left a live thunderhead at one edge of the platform where several lightning wranglers were keeping curious Pegasi well away from it.

Rainbow grinned excitedly as she flew past Flash Cloud, doing an aileron roll into a loop over the assembled crowd before she landed between them and the thunderhead.

“Alright everypony,” she shouted loud enough to draw their attention, “gather ‘round and listen up!”

She grinned as the crowd slowly assembled around her, the senior lightning wranglers hovering above them and wearing the yellow vests of their team. Rainbow hopped back into the sky and hovered ten feet above the cloud platform so everypony could see her.

“For those of you who don’t know,” she began, “I’m Rainbow Dash, and I’m the manager around here for the next six weeks. You’re all here because of your natural lightning resistance and Manehattan’s severe lack of professional lightning wranglers. I have no idea how this situation managed to happen, but I do know this. It. Is. NOT. Okay,” she stated firmly, clopping her hooves together.

She pointed to the thunderhead behind her. “That is an active thunderhead,” she began. “Notice the dark grey color that differentiates it from normal rain clouds? You should also be able tofeel the static in your feathers and smell the ozone in the air.” Rainbow Dash waited for a brief moment to make sure there weren’t any questions from the untested ponies. Since none of them said anything, she continued. “Thunderheads are dangerous. All of you have may have a natural resistance to lightning, but it can still cause you some pretty serious injury if you aren’t careful, so pay attention to what you are doing. And above all…” Rainbow flew over to the thunderhead, nodding to the lightning wranglers that had been acting as guards for the cloud before she motioned for them to move away.

Once they had moved to a safe distance she turned back towards the curious Pegasi that were watching her. She took a breath before she delivered a powerful buck to the cloud. There was a deafening crack behind her as a bolt of lightning exploded forth from the cloud, arcing harmlessly into the open skies. Her feathers tingled, her mane stood in stood in all directions, and she could feel the residual static making every hair on her body stand on end. She couldn’t help a manic grin; only a rainboom was more exhilarating than handling lightning.

“Respect the power of these clouds like an angry dragon,” she finished, giving the former cloud pushers time to absorb the demonstration. After a few moments she flew closer to them again and continued her presentation.

“Now, individually, each thunderhead can produce multiple lightning strikes of the scale I just demonstrated. This is important, so I’m going to say it again. Each strike carries enough voltage to kill or seriously injure anypony, even those of us who have a natural resistance to it. When networked together, they form the storm engines that power the large weather events we need to run from time to time.

“All of you have been broken into teams of four and assigned to a senior lightning wrangler who will supervise your training. These team leaders are the ones responsible for your safety, so if they tell you to do something, then you do it. If they say jump, you say how high. If they say fly, you ask which direction. And, most importantly if they say stop, you stop! Immediately!” Rainbow declared firmly.

“Lastly,” she continued, “there are a couple of rules all of you need to follow. First: Nopony should land on a primed thunderhead; there’s the very real chance that you could accidentally discharge the cloud and get yourself fried. Second: Nopony should handle a thunderhead alone. If I hear about any of you trying to be some kinda hot-shot, I will personally bust your flanks from here to Appleloosa. Am I clear?”

Rainbow paused for a breath as the assembled ponies responded. A chorus of “yes ma’am’s” could be heard rippling through the crowd.

“Good. Now everypony get into your teams. Your captains will start teaching you the basics of lightning wrangling with battery clouds. By the end of the day you will all be able to charge, discharge, and direct the energy in those clouds at will. After that, you’ll each take a battery cloud home for the weekend to practice, and on Monday we’ll start working on small lightning clouds. In the next three weeks you’ll all be ready to work with a full scale storm engine,” she finished, waving her hoof to the crowd.

For the remainder of the day, Rainbow bounced from group to group, usually keeping quiet and observing how the older lightning wranglers were handling the education of their new teammates. Occasionally, she stepped in to answer bigger questions and on a few occasions she had to shift some of the groups around to deal with personality clashes, but overall, she couldn’t help but feel optimistic with how things were looking.

‘I guess all of Twilight’s yapping about lists and plans is rubbing off on me. Never thought that was going to happen.’ She snickered to herself.

Near five o’clock, when things were just winding down, Dash spotted Headwind and Dewdrop flying over to her. She smiled to them as they landed.

“Having fun over here?” Dewdrop asked, looking nervously at the parked thunderheads not too far away.

“Yeah, it’s pretty cool,” Rainbow answered with a smile. “You two all done for the weekend?”

“Yup, we got all the weather set up and the weekend team should have everything under control,” Headwind answered.

“Awesome,” Rainbow said. “Did you send the weather order out to Cloudsdale?”

“Erm…no,” Headwind admitted with a faint blush.

“Do that before you head home, please,” Rainbow stated, earning an irritated look from the stallion.

“Fine.” He sighed before taking off in the direction of the main office where the necessary paperwork was located.

Rainbow let out a weary sigh. ‘It’ll all be done soon, then I can hang out with Spitfire,’ she reminded herself.

Headwind made good time back to the office. What was normally a twenty minute flight he managed to do in just over fifteen. Quickly, he retrieved the necessary orders from the manager’s desk and set to work filling them out. It wasn’t that he had a problem with actually doing the work himself, it was just that he had plans for the night with his own family that he didn’t want to miss.

“Stupid lightning wranglers,” he grumbled quietly as he blitzed through the forms. “Stupid storm engine.”

With all the haste he could manage, he checked the boxes for thunderheads and rainclouds and scribbled down the number they needed. After he signed the form he folded it and slipped it into a prepaid envelope. “At least the envelopes are all prepaid and have the address printed on them,” Headwind mumbled, mashing the package shut.. He tucked the envelope into his saddlebag and took flight again. There was a post office on his way home where he could send off the order with minimal inconvenience.

He never noticed the mistake he had made.

Feathers in the Breeze

For a few minutes, Rainbow and Spitfire remained still, content to merely hold, and be held in kind. Together they watched Celestia’s sun dip beneath the city skyline, the last rays of light filtering between the buildings in crepuscular beams that danced through the evening air. A gentle breeze washed over them and rustled the leaves in the trees. They held each other closer still.

As the twilight faded, and Luna’s stars began to fill the sky, both mares felt themselves relax. For on that insignificant hilltop, under the shade of an old maple tree overlooking the urban sprawl of Manehattan, they were safe. They were safe from the petty squabbles, safe from the politics, pressures, and scandals. They were safe from the prejudices, jealousies, and spite. From their spot on that little hill, none of it mattered.

Then Spitfire’s stomach growled loud enough to make them both jump. Apparently hunger was something they were anything but safe from. They stared at each other for a moment before they slowly broke into a fit of laughter. Rainbow reached for the nearest sandwich.

“Hungry?” Rainbow asked with a knowing grin.

“I guess so,” Spitfire answered, taking the sandwich in a hoof. “Thanks,”

The two mares made short work of the sandwiches, not bothering with conversation as they ate. Spitfire’s silence was owed to the flood of things racing through her mind. Rainbow owed her silence due to her last sandwich trying to choke her to death when she tried to speak and chew.

After finishing the food, Rainbow poured them each a glass of cider. It wasn’t as good as the liquid gold that Applejack’s family made, but it worked in a pinch. Rainbow absently wondered if she could persuade Spitfire to visit Ponyville during cider season.

“Hey, Rainbow?” Spitfire asked, breaking the silence.

“Yeah?”

“What’s your favorite time of the day to fly?” Spitfire asked, her eyes watching the horizon.

Rainbow considered the question for a moment before she answered. “Early morning, right as the sun starts to rise.”

“Why’s that?” Spitfire asked, shifting her attention to Rainbow.

“The ground and the air are still cool, so I can’t rely on thermals to keep me in the sky. I gotta use more energy on flapping to get the same results for trick flying. It makes me work harder until after the sun’s been up for a while, then I can cool down by hopping from thermal to thermal for a while.” Rainbow explained.

“I never would’ve pegged you as a morning pony, Dash,” Spitfire commented, raising her brows.

“I’m not,” Rainbow admitted with a laugh, “there’s nothing I hate like waking up that early and getting out of my comfy bed to exercise. But there’s really no better time for it, and in Ponyville I can always take a few naps during the day. What about you?”

Spitfire sucked in a deep breath, letting it out with a thoughtful hum as she considered the question. “I’d say I love to fly most over a city or town right as the sun goes down.”

“Yeah?” Rainbow said with an arched eyebrow.

“There’s something… I don’t know, something magical in it.” Spitfire began, her voice soft and her gaze distant. “As a Wonderbolt, we spend so many days training, travelling, or performing. When there is free time, we usually end up doing something as a team, or resting for the next event. Honestly, we really don’t get a lot of time to be feathers in the breeze.”

Rainbow nodded, smiling at the old metaphor. “So what did you do when you did have the time?”

“When I did,” Spitfire continued, a nostalgic smile tugging at the corners of her mouth, “I would fly up nice and high, catch a good thermal and just glide over the city. If you keep right in front of the edge of night you can watch as the street lamps are lit, one by one. From up high, it’s like watching hundreds of tiny stars spring to life. And you look up above you and see the night sky with countless points of light slowly coming to life before your eyes. And then I just let the wind take me for a while.”

“Like a feather in the breeze,” Rainbow concluded.

“Exactly,” Spitfire said, her foreleg giving Rainbow’s waist a gentle squeeze. “It’s easy to forget, when you’re a Wonderbolt, but sometimes it’s nice to slow down and let the wind take you.”

Rainbow nodded in agreement. “I’ve always found it helps me appreciate the speed more when I spend some time just gliding.”

Spitfire turned to face Rainbow, her heart fluttering as their eyes met. The words on her tongue vanished into the ether, the evening light bathed them in an orange glow. A gentle breeze brushed strands of Rainbow’s mane across her eyes. Her magenta eyes watched Spitfire, full of earnest affection, respect, and trust.

Spitfire didn’t think as she leaned close to the younger mare. Their lips ghosted over each other’s, the warmth of their breath melting together in a moment of mutual hesitation. Together, they leaned forward, lips meeting in a brief kiss. Their lips parted for only a moment before Spitfire leaned in again; she barely heard Rainbow’s gentle gasp.

Her tongue slid into Rainbow’s mouth, eliciting a shiver from the younger mare. Spitfire wrapped her hooves around Rainbow, sliding her forward until their bodies pressed together. Spitfire couldn’t emphasize how much she had missed the warmth of another pony’s body pressed against hers. To feel the pounding of Rainbow’s heart, the subtle tremble of her flesh.

Spitfire pressed forward, her weight gently pushing Rainbow down until her back rested against the ground. Rainbow shivered against Spitfire as the Wonderbolt settled on top of her, their lips locked the whole time. The kiss only ended when both mares needed a full breath of air.

“Who,” Rainbow paused for a gasp, “who said you got to be on top?”

“Oh?” Spitfire chuckled, her lips kissing Rainbow’s nose, “think you could push me off?”

“I totally could, if I wanted to.” Rainbow defended, her cheeks burning fiercely.

“Could you, really?” Spitfire asked, her hoof gently brushing wayward strands of mane from Rainbow’s face.

She couldn’t really.

“You’re a beautiful mare, Rainbow Dash,” Spitfire said, the comment making rainbow’s entire face heat up. Try as she might, Rainbow couldn’t find the words to respond to the compliment. Spitfire smiled affectionately as she leaned down and pressed her lips to Rainbow’s.

The world around them melted away; time seemed inconsequential. Their bodies all but inseparable even after their lips broke apart. Spitfire nuzzled along Rainbow’s neck, planting gentle kisses where she could. Rainbow reciprocated the gestures, nuzzling and kissing Spitfire where she could.

As darkness claimed the sky and stars filled the void above them, Spitfire rolled off of Rainbow to lie beside her. The two mares caught their breath as they watched the stars together. After a few minutes of quiet, Rainbow rolled onto her left side and draped her foreleg across Spitfire’s chest. Spitfire smiled, leaning over and kissing the top of Rainbow’s head. Rainbow nuzzled into the crook of Spitfire’s neck, a contented sigh escaping her as she did.

“This is nice,” Rainbow said softly.

“Yeah it is,” Spitfire agreed.

“I know I should probably fly us back, but then this would end. And… and I don’t want this to end,” Rainbow said, her voice barely more than a whisper.

“But tomorrow could be even better than today,” Spitfire said, “we’d never find out if we just stayed here.”

“Or it could be a total mess,” Rainbow suggested.

“True, very true.” Spitfire agreed with a slight nod. “But we’ll find out together.”

“Promise?”

Spitfire’s hoof slipped under Rainbow’s chin, guiding the weather manager’s gaze up. Spitfire gave Rainbow a gentle kiss that was all too brief. “On my pinions.”

The two were content to remain there, snuggled together on their little hill for nearly an hour before forcing themselves to get up. Spitfire climbed onto Rainbow’s back again so the weather manager could take them home. Rainbow took her time flying back to Spitfire’s hotel, a fact that the Wonderbolt was grateful for. It gave Spitfire time to consider things: where her relationship with Rainbow was going, what the risks were, and how she was going to deal with Arcus.

She sighed and nuzzled into Rainbow’s mane. The weather mare didn’t smell like any other pony Spitfire had dated. There was no smell of perfume or overwhelming shampoos and conditioners. Instead she could only smell a utilitarian conditioner and Rainbow’s natural scent; like spring rain and static.

Arriving back at Spitfire’s hotel, Rainbow carefully flew into the open window, landing just inside. Spitfire slid off her marefriend’s back, slowly making her way in front of Rainbow and stealing a gentle kiss.

“Thanks for everything, Rainbow. It was a great evening,” Spitfire said.

“Y-yeah it was,” Rainbow said breathily, her cheeks still flushed.

“When’s your shift over tomorrow?” Spitfire asked.

“Uhh,” Rainbow’s eyes drifted up and to the left as she thought about the question for a minute, “five? Yeah, Five-ish.”

“Cool,” Spitfire smiled, “wanna catch a movie and grab some dinner? It’ll be my treat.”

“I’d love to!” Rainbow chirped.

Spitfire smiled, kissing Rainbow once more. “Then I’ll see you tomorrow, Dash.”

Rainbow and Spitfire shared a close embrace and one final kiss, before Rainbow climbed out the window and leapt into the skies. Spitfire watched as her marefriend vanished into the city night, a pang of loneliness in her chest. With a sigh, she made her way to the bathroom, a hot shower would do her good.

For Rainbow Dash, sleep proved to be an elusive thing that night. Her head buzzed, her cheeks burned, and she could still taste Spitfire’s kiss. She brought a hoof to her lips, it had been so intense, so passionate. Rainbow couldn’t think of anything like it that she had experienced before. With a groan, she pressed her hooves over her eyes and tried to force herself to sleep.

What little rest she managed to get was rudely interrupted by the alarm clock. Rainbow’s hoof slammed down on the poor contraption to silence it’s shrill ring. Forcing herself out of bed, she showered, brushed her teeth, and went through her morning stretches to warm up her wings. After ensuring she was ready, and still on schedule, she took a flying leap out of her window and into the warm morning air. Without the additional weight of a passenger on her back, nor the worry of said passenger falling off, Rainbow was able to fly at a much faster pace. A smile spread over her face as she made for the diner where her weather managers were waiting.

She spotted them easily enough, all three having found an outdoor table in the sun. Dewdrop had her wings partially open, allowing the warm rays to seep into her feathers; Flash and Headwind were each thanking an earth pony waitress who delivered their drinks.

Rainbow landed a few feet away from them and took a breath before she trotted over, a friendly smile on her face. “Morning guys!”

“There she is,” Flash snickered, “told you she didn’t forget.”

“I didn’t say she forgot,” Headwind grumbled.

“Morning, Rainbow!” Dewdrop chimed over her coworker.

“So,” Rainbow began, taking the open seat beside Dewdrop, “how are you all doing?”

“Pretty good, thanks,” Dewdrop answered.

“Good enough for government work,” Flash said.

“Well enough,” Headwind said. “I’m curious why you wanted to meet us here, though.”

“Well, one of the objectives for this whole management exchange program was exposing other weather teams to different styles of management,” Rainbow explained patiently, “back in ponyville, we’re a small weather team. Our formal weather office is a glorified closet in the town hall. All we keep in there are the file cabinets and paperwork. The meeting halls are usually occupied and the town doesn’t have the discretionary funds to give us our own building. So I improvised, and started hosting the morning meetings at a local coffee shop we all like. Just a nice friendly breakfast, no business till later.”

“It’s certainly a nice change of pace,” Dewdrop commented.

“Yeah,” Flash agreed, “all business with Downburst.”

“So,” Rainbow began, “tell me a little about yourselves.”

For over an hour the four weather ponies discussed anything they could think of, beginning with complaints about the bureaucracy of the Weather Factory and the almost comical mountains of paperwork. They shared stories of their favorite moments at work, like Flash Cloud’s first day where he accidentally started a grassfire below the cloud staging area, or how Dewdrop parked a rain cloud over an ex-coltfriend’s house for weeks until he returned her record collection.

Headwind talked about his family, particularly his youngest child, a colt who was nearing three years old. Rainbow noticed the grouchy stallion soften a bit as he spoke of them, his posture eventually relaxing as the conversation progressed. Rainbow told him about Scootaloo, the little filly who had taken a shine to her back home. The information seemed to click something in Headwind that made him seem notably friendlier.

Eventually Rainbow was forced to begin steering the conversation toward the day’s work schedule. After confirming that they would meet again the following Monday, Rainbow gave them all the day’s assignments. Dewdrop had an easy day, with sunny skies all across the city, Headwind had to keep approximately thirty percent cloud coverage for the day with less shade over the parks, and Flash would continue training the new lightning wranglers with Rainbow’s oversight.

Going their separate ways, the four weather ponies went to work. For Rainbow, the day went by at a pleasantly brisk pace. Little by little, her new lightning wranglers were starting to get the hang of things. Most of them were now capable of basic static manipulation to safely charge and discharge small lightning clouds. Rainbow allowed herself a bit of pride in their progress, and as the day ended and she flew to Spitfire’s hotel, she felt almost giddy.

Rainbow was able to quickly traverse the distance quickly enough. She noticed that Spitfire had left the window open for her, a silent invitation. Rainbow flew to the window, knocking on the trim and hooking a foreleg over the sill.

Spitfire, who had been reading a book in bed, sat up and smiled. “Hey there stranger.”

“Hey, Spitfire!” Rainbow greeted with a bright smile, “can I come in?”

“Of course you can,” Spitfire said, trotting closer to the window.

No sooner had Rainbow gotten all four hooves on the floor before Spitfire pulled her into a tight hug and pressed their lips together. Rainbow felt that familiar shiver run through her body as her cheeks flushed red. As soon as it began, the kiss ended, leaving Rainbow slightly dazed.

“Have a good day?” Spitfire asked.

“Huh? Oh, uh, yeah!” Rainbow answered, her mind finally rebooting. “What about you?”

“Kinda dull, to be honest,” Spitfire answered, getting her saddlebags on. “Think you could fly us to the ground? It’s quicker than the stairs.”

“Sure thing,” Rainbow answered.

Climbing onto Rainbow’s back, Spitfire made herself comfortable, nuzzling into Rainbow’s mane and squeezing her forelegs around the younger mare’s torso. Rainbow waited until she was sure her passenger was ready before she flew out the window and glided down to the street. Spitfire efficiently slipped off of Rainbow’s back and took up beside her as they began their walk.

“Thanks for the lift,” she said with a smile.

“My pleasure!” Rainbow answered, flashing Spitfire another bright grin.

As the two began their walk, Spitfire noticed a reflection in the corner of her eye. Instinctively she turned her head, looking for the source. She saw a few ponies on the other side of the street, mostly earth ponies keeping to themselves as they went about their business, as well as a few unicorns and a tan pegasus sitting on a bench.

Spitfire’s eyes narrowed warily. Years of training and experience telling her something wasn’t right with this picture. Still, she couldn’t quite put her hoof on what... yet.

“Something wrong?” Rainbow asked, noticing Spitfire’s slow in pace.

“Huh? Oh, no. Sorry Rainbow, just thought I saw something. Nevermind, it’s fine.” Spitfire smiled to her date.

“Okay, if you say so,” Rainbow said, a concerned frown at the corner of her mouth.

The longer the two walked, the more Spitfire felt something wasn’t right. Occasionally, she kept catching reflections of light that would draw her attention. Each time she looked she didn’t see anything notable. It wasn’t until they were trotting through the merchant’s district that Spitfire noticed him. The same tan pegasus she had spotted outside of her hotel sitting on a bench, only now she noticed the camera around his neck.

Her temper flared, a fire lighting in her eyes. She tolerated the paparazzi in Cloudsdale as much as she possibly could, but this was a different situation, and far more delicate. Spitfire glanced at Rainbow and took a breath to calm herself down. She had a plan, she just hoped Rainbow would play along.

“Hey, Rainbow?” She began, her cold tone instantly catching Rainbow’s attention.

“Yeah?”

“I need you to keep walking and make no reaction to what I’m about to tell you, okay?”

“Um, okay?” Rainbow said, trying very hard not to look at Spitfire.

“We’re being tailed by a pony with a camera,” Spitfire said, noting the slight hitch in Rainbow’s step. “I think he’s been following us since we left the hotel.”

“Do you think he’s gotten our picture?” Rainbow asked.

“I think he’s gotten several.” Spitfire answered.

“Great,” Rainbow groaned, “what do we do?”

“If he does have pictures, I can’t let him keep them.” Spitfire said, her tone cold.

“So what do we do?” Rainbow asked again.

“Follow me and act natural,” Spitfire said.

Across the street, Quick Snap frowned as Spitfire and the sky-blue mare casually turned down an ally. He paused for a moment, his eyes drifting to the camera around his neck. Just a few more pictures, and Red Top would no longer be a concern. He only had a half dozen pictures left on his current film strip anyway.

“Sorry, grandpa,” he whispered to the camera as he trotted towards the alley. Out of habit, he checked over his shoulder to make sure nopony was following him before he darted around the corner. He spotted Spitfire and her friend at the end of the ally, turning right onto an adjacent street. He gave them a couple minutes head start before he followed.

“I swear,” he mumbled, trotting towards the turn, “when this mess is finally over I’m gonna find work in Cloudsdale if it’s the last thing I-AHH!”

Quick’s screamed as he was pulled off his hooves, his grandfather’s camera ripped from his neck shortly before he was pinned face down in the dirt. Panic overwhelmed him; his scrawny body struggled for all it was worth against the pony holding him down, yet all he did was seem to annoy his captor. Spitfire’s golden hoof stepped into his line of sight, Quick’s eyes followed her foreleg up. His heart froze in his chest when he spotted his grandpa’s camera in her hoof.

“Why are you tailing us?” Spitfire demanded, glaring down at the helpless photographer with unveiled disgust.

“I’m sorry!” Quick cried, “I-I’m just doing my job!”

Spitfire’s eyes bored into him for a long moment. She shifted her gaze to the camera in her hoof. “I can’t let you have these pictures.” she concluded, hefting the camera over her head.

Quick’s eyes went wide. “No! No, please, please-please-please-please, I’m begging you, just-please, please don’t smash my camera!” he pleaded, tears welling up in his eyes. “Beat me up, break my wings, I don’t care! Just please not that camera!”

Spitfire and Rainbow Dash exchanged an uncomfortable look.

“Is this, you know, normal?” Rainbow asked, her eyes shifting from Spitfire to the nearly-hysterical photographer..

“Not even a little,” Spitfire answered, finding the whole display somewhat unnerving.

“Please,” Quick choked out, tears rolling down his cheeks as he went limp in Rainbow’s gasp. “please... I’m begging you... please,” he whimpered

Spitfire looked to the camera in her hoof, then back down at the stallion pinned under Rainbow. Shaking her head she sighed and lowered her hoof, sparing the camera for the moment.

“Let him up,” she told Rainbow as she opened the camera and pulled out the film.

Rainbow nodded, climbing off of Quick and helping him back to his hooves. Part of her felt bad for what they had done, particularly how she had pulled him down hard enough to knock his saddlebags off his back. Still, it wasn’t enough to overwhelm her anger with being followed and photographed; it reminded her too much of the Gabby Gums incident.

After she had the film safely tucked away in her saddlebag, Spitfire tossed the camera to Quick Snap. The stallion gasped in fright, almost fumbling over himself to catch the camera safely. A fresh wave of tears slid down his cheeks once the camera was safe in his hooves. He gasped for air in an attempt to calm down as he reached for his fallen saddlebag.

Rainbow stepped on the bag, preventing him from getting what he was after.

“What are you looking for?” she asked with a wary glare.

“P-please, my inhaler, please... “ Quick said through strained breaths.

Rainbow pushed the bag towards Quick and leapt away like it had bitten her. Quick fumbled in the back with one hoof, cradling his camera in the other. Retrieving his inhaler, he took a deep puff from it, holding his breath for a minute before slowly exhaling. He sat back heavily, his back pressing against a cold brick wall. Spitfire waited for a moment before she spoke again, her tone less forceful than before... barely.

“Now, why were you following us?” she asked.

“I’m sorry, I-I didn’t have a choice,” Quick answered.

“There’s always a choice,” Rainbow countered.

“Not for me!” Quick shouted, his face contorting in anguish. “Not from him.”

“Who?” Spitfire asked, putting her hoof on his shoulder, “who’s got you so scared?”

“Red... Red Top,” he answered.

Spitfire took a step back and forced herself to take a calming breath.

“I should’ve known,” she growled, pressing a hoof to her forehead.

“I’m sorry,” Quick repeated, clutching his camera like a foal with a stuffed toy.

“Alright,” Spitfire began, “my friend and I are gonna leave now. If I ever see you again though, If I even think you’re tailing us, then I’m gonna find you and smash that camera into a million little pieces,” Spitfire promised, her hoof delicately tapping on the camera. “Are we clear?”

Quick nodded, his jaw trembling, ears flat, and eyes wide, “C-crystal, ma’am.”

Spitfire and Rainbow trotted out of the alley and disappeared around the corner, leaving Quick Snap alone with his thoughts. He looked to his grandfather’s camera; he could see his reflection in the lens. It stared at him like an unblinking eye; ashamed. Quick squeezed his eyes shut and held the camera close. He didn’t try to stop the tears that flowed down his cheeks.

And So It Goes

Several days after Celestia and Luna had left, Bifrost finally felt comfortable enough leaving Rainbow alone for a few hours with Spitfire. In addition to needing a shower and a decent meal—why all hospitals had terrible food, he would never understand—there was a particular piece of business he needed to personally handle. It was that professional responsibility that had taken him to the headquarters of the Manehattan Weather Team on that sunny morning.

Standing in front of the desk Bifrost had temporarily commandeered were the three senior weather ponies of Manehattan. They stood in silence, their posture rigid and their breath all but held while Bifrost read through a stack of papers in his hooves. Amongst the newspaper clippings and official reports was the one item of particular interest to him: The storm order.

Setting the papers down, Bifrost folded his hooves in front of his snout, his golden eyes coldly sizing up each of the three ponies. He knew all their names from digging around in the employee files: Headwind, senior cloud pusher, Flash Cloud, senior lightning wrangler, and Dewdrop, senior rain pony.

A thick bandage wrapped around Flash’s foreleg where the shrapnel of an exploding tree had torn up the limb. He kept his head down in deference to Bifrost’s rank and his own sense of shame. Dewdrop had a smaller bandage around her left foreleg; Bifrost understood from his interviews with less senior team members that she had received a decent electrical burn from the botched shipment. Lastly was Headwind, his head hung low and his ears drooping. Bifrost had also read his letter of resignation which had been at the top of the pile. Tempted as he was to let them sweat it out a little longer, he did want to get back to Rainbow sooner rather than later.

“So,” he began, resting his chin on his hooves, “you all know why you’re here, I suspect you know why I’m here, so let’s get straight to the point. This weather team has failed. It has failed catastrophically. Most importantly its failure has injured ponies and started a fire that caused significant damage to the areas surrounding the staging grounds.”

Headwind looked up, his shame laid bare in his expression. “It’s all my f—”

“Not a damned word,” Bifrost cut him off with a stern glare. “Now, all of you know who I am, and you know who my daughter is, so you can bet your asses that if this was up to me, you’d all be fired. However, you’re in luck, because I’ve had to recuse myself from this mess since it involves my daughter.”

The three dared to exchange worried glances while Bifrost retrieved a folded slip of paper from his saddlebag. He cleared his throat before his gaze returned to the three managers. “Until Manager Downburst returns, temporary management of the Manehattan team will be carried out by senior manager Flash Cloud.” Bifrost tossed the paper onto the desk, his eyes locking with Flash’s. “You are given full authority over the Manehattan Weather Office until such time as Downburst relieves you. Fire ponies, hire them, spend the next couple weeks sitting here with your head up your ass, I don’t care. Long story short: don’t screw it up.”

“Yes, Sir,” Flash said, keeping his face expressionless and his tone neutral.

Forcing himself to take a deep breath, Bifrost leaned back in his chair. “Any questions?”

Dewdrop was the first to step forward, her feathers subtly trembling with anxiety. “Is... is Rainbow alright?”

His expression softened, albeit very slightly. “She will be.”

“We’re so glad to hear that,” Dewdrop said with a relieved sigh, a smile forming on her lips. She hesitantly extended her left wing, a bundle of envelopes held together by a lavender twine tucked between her primary feathers. She offered the package to Bifrost, who regarded it with a mildly confused look.

“It... It’s not much,” she continued, “but everypony just wanted to let her know we were thinking of her.”

Bifrost stared at the innocuous envelopes, as the rational and irrational parts of his mind waged a vicious war. The analyst in him saw it for what it was: a heartfelt gesture from a demoralized, exhausted, and broken team of ponies. The father in him seethed with barely controlled rage. They had nearly killed his baby, and they had the temerity to think a few ‘get well soon’ cards would even come close to righting their wrongs?

Forcing himself to take a deep breath, Bifrost smiled and accepted the envelopes with a hoof. “Thank you. I know she’ll appreciate it.”

Headwind stepped forward, a folded sheet of paper in his wing which he offered to the rainbow-maned stallion. “Sir, if could offer my resignation—”

Bifrost held up a hoof to stop him. “I’ve already said, I’ve recused myself from this whole matter. I can’t accept your resignation, and to be perfectly honest, if I hadn’t recused myself I would’ve fired you this morning.”

“I wouldn’t blame you, sir,” Headwind said, a penitent frown on his lips.

“Anything else?”

Receiving a trio of quiet “no’s”, Bifrost tucked the pack of get-well cards into his saddlebag and moved towards the open window. He hesitated for a moment, casting one last look at the three managers in the room before he leapt out the window, wings spreading to catch the summer winds.

Flash let out the breath he’d been holding, a hoof rubbing his face. He walked towards the desk and turned to face his colleagues. “Well, all things considered, that coulda gone worse.”

“I guess,” Dewdrop mumbled.

Headwind sighed, looking to Flash. “I guess it’s up to you now, Flash.”

“Eh?” Flash looked over to his friend, confusion in his eyes.

Wordlessly, Headwind offered him his resignation. Without a second thought, Flash took it and promptly tore it in half, tossing both ends into the garbage bin beside the desk.

“What are you doing?!” Headwind balked. Even Dewdrop looked confused by the act.

“The only thing I can do right now,” he answered.

“I can’t—”

“I can’t fire you or let you quit right now, Headwind,” Flash said, cutting off the cloud pusher’s argument. “Let’s be honest with ourselves; we’re up shit creek and we basically threw the paddles overboard. The team is in shambles, my lightning team is crippled, over twenty ponies are still in the hospital, and none of the deputies have the experience that you do!”

“And it’s my fault we’re in this mess now!” Headwind argued. “You can’t bury your head in the sand and just pretend it’ll go away!”

“I can do a lot when I put my mind to it.”

“Flash has a point,” Dewdrop said, stepping up to the stallions. “Headwind, you’ve got easily ten years more experience than any of the other cloud pushers; we need you to keep everything running. Especially with so many ponies out on medical leave.”

“But—”

“If you want a way to clear your conscience a bit,” Flash began, looking to the window to ensure Bifrost wasn’t hovering around, “Rainbow should’ve been there to fill out the order, or at least confirm it when you wrote it out.”

“You’re not seriously trying to pin this on her, are you?” Dewdrop asked, looking somewhat horrified by the implication.

“No-no-no!” Flash quickly corrected himself. “It’s as much my fault for having her with me the whole time for the training program.”

“You couldn’t have controlled that many ponies on your own,” Headwind noted dryly.

“Maybe, maybe not, but that’s speculative.”

“This whole conversation is speculative,” Dewdrop said, pinching the bridge of her nose.

“Anyway,” Flash continued, “until Downburst gets back and the team is back to a normal operating strength, I don’t wanna hear another word about this, okay?”

Headwind shook his head; he couldn’t help feeling disgusted by the entire mess that had engulfed them. “Fine then. What’s next?”

Flash searched the desk for a moment before he found the weather schedule and water distribution charts. Laying them out on the floor between them, he took a breath and came up with a plan.

“Alright, here’s the deal: without the storm rains all the agricultural areas in and around the city are critically behind on their water schedules. Dewdrop, how many rainclouds do we have in staging?”

Dewdrop thought for a moment. “I haven't had a chance to get a full inventory, but I’m pretty sure we can get adequate coverage to the farms. If I avoid the city parks, we can stretch that even more.”

“Does that include our reserve supply?” Flash asked.

“The reserve supplies aren’t included in general inventory,” Headwind said, a hoof thoughtfully rubbing his chin. “Those clouds are saved for city emergencies such as fires or droughts.”

“Alright then, those are off limits for the time being,” Flash sighed.

“If we mix the rain clouds in with common clouds, we can get a little extra mileage from what we’ve got,” Dewdrop offered.

“We still have a full stock of common clouds,” Headwind added. “They’re a lower moisture content, but there’s some water we can get out of them if we’re careful.”

“Okay, it’s not perfect, but its a start.” Flash allowed himself a hopeful smile. “We can do this, guys. We can get through this, together.”

“You really suck at motivational speeches, Flash,” Headwind stated flatly.

Flash shrugged and smirked. “What can I say, usually my stunning good looks are enough.”

Dewdrop groaned, slapping her forehead with a hoof.

If there was one thing Rainbow Dash hated—truly hated—it was the feeling of being useless. Perhaps that was why, she mused, the fates had cursed her to lay in an uncomfortable hospital bed, with nothing to do, and even less to distract her. It was enough to drive her to madness, even with the long naps she generally took when she got pain medicine. Granted, after how the conversation had gone with Celestia, Luna, and her dad, Rainbow had become much more amiable to the drug naps.

Still, perhaps the only silver lining to her situation was the time it allowed her to spend with her dad and Spitfire. Since she had first been placed in the Ponyville Weather Office, there hadn’t been much time for her to get back home more than once or twice a year. While she had made many dear friends in Ponyville, and she had Fluttershy, who was the closest thing she had to a sister, it never substituted for being able to see her dad again.

Spitfire, on the other hoof, was doing her absolute best to test the limits of Rainbow’s drug-assisted patience.

“Here comes the choo-choo train,” Spitfire sang, moving the spoon back and forth in front of Rainbow’s snout. “Choo choo, open wide!”

Rainbow glared at Spitfire, thoroughly unamused by the act.

“What?” Spitfire asked, a knowing grin on her lips. “Nothing? Not even a little teensy-weensy smirk?”

Several pokes of the jello filled spoon against Rainbow’s mouth only served to deepen the weather mare’s frown.

“Come on, Dash, you gotta eat something!” Spitfire implored her stubborn marefriend.

“I don’t need to be baby fed jello!” Rainbow groused. “And jello’s kinda gross anyway...”

Spitfire dramatically threw a hoof over her heart, reeling backward as though stricken. “But… Rainbow, jello is the food of the gods!”

“You said it was pizza two weeks ago.”

“The gods changed their minds.”

“Uh-huh.”

“Rainbow, eat the damn jello.”

“Can’t make me.”

“The hell I can’t.”

Rainbow folded her forelegs across her chest, biting her tongue to avoid cringing too visibly from the act. The painkillers in her system dulled the ache enough that she could hold the position for a few minutes at least. Spitfire rolled her eyes and poked Rainbow’s mouth with the spoon.

“Look, Dash, the food’s going in your face one way or another.”

Rainbow kept her mouth shut tight and gave Spitfire a defiant glare.

In return, Spitfire gave Rainbow a sweet smile that beguiled nothing less than evil intentions. “You sure you wanna play this game, Dash?”

The sky-blue mare remained resolute in her defiance.

“You know I’ll win.”

Rainbow refused to dignify that assertion with a response, though she couldn’t help a dramatic rolling of her eyes.

“You know I could bribe a dentist to come in here and pry your mouth open.”

Rainbow didn’t seem to buy the suggestion.

“Don’t look at me with that tone of voice.”

Rainbow bit her tongue, refusing to give her enemy the satisfaction of a giggle.

“Come on, Dash.” Spitfire leaned an elbow on the bed, the spoon mere inches from Rainbow’s mouth. “You know you want it.”

Rainbow answered with a vigorous shake of her head.

Spitfire leaned closer, her nose almost bumping Rainbow’s. “Eat it and I’ll give you a kiss.”

“Oh that is so ch—” Rainbow failed to notice the readied spoon until Spitfire had stuffed it into her open maw. The glare on Rainbow’s face was almost enough to light a pony on fire. Almost. Spitfire gently kissed Rainbows forehead and patted her mane with her free hoof.

“There, was that so bad?” Spitfire asked, keeping the spoon right where it was until Rainbow swallowed.

“Not. Cool.” Rainbow growled.

The Wonderbolt smiled, the back of her hoof stroking Rainbow’s cheek. “Oh, you poor thing. Let me make it all better.”

Spitfire moved forward, her lips gently kissing Rainbows. She did her best not to grin when the weather mare gasped. Resting her free hoof on Rainbow’s cheek, she closed her eyes and lost herself in the moment. It had been less than a week since the accident, yet it felt like an eternity since they had shared a moment of intimacy.

She still recalled every moment of that morning: the smell of Rainbow’s mane in her nose, the warmth of her body held safe in her hooves. She thought of Rainbow’s happy singing from the shower, the lilt of her laughter, and the gentle, appreciative moans from Spitfire’s preening, it was a moment in time that Spitfire cherished.

It was at that time Bifrost returned, trotting through the door without so much as a knock.

“Hey, Dash. How are—Whoa!” Bifrost yelped, wings flaring in surprise as he instantly skidded to a halt.

Spitfire leapt away from Rainbow too quickly, almost immediately tumbling out of her chair and onto the floor. While she avoided landing landing on her injured wing, the sudden stop still sent crushing waves of agony through her body. Spitfire, however, was a proud and classy mare. At least, that’s what she told herself as a stream of exceptionally... colorful expletives flew out of her mouth.

At least Bifrost looked impressed.

For the second time that week, Rainbow seriously considered the merits of taking a long walk off a short rooftop. Her face burned, the blue coat turning a lovely shade of red and her heart racing in her chest. Leave it to her dad to show up the only time she needed a bit of privacy.

Moving around the bed, Bifrost helped Spitfire back into the seat. “Are you alright?”

“I’m good; my pride took the brunt of the fall.”

Bifrost sighed, genuinely relieved he wouldn’t need to call a nurse. A smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth. The act didn’t go unnoticed by either mare. Spitfire couldn’t shake the peculiar feeling she was about to seriously regret getting out of her room that morning.

“So, Spitfire,” Bifrost began, wrapping a hoof around her shoulders to cut off any means of escape.

“Y-yes, Sir?” Spitfire forced a very awkward smile.

“What exactly were your intentions with my daughter just now?”

“Dad—”

“Not now, baby. Daddy’s working.”

Rainbow groaned, pulling the pillow out from behind her head and pressing it over her face.

“Coward...” Spitfire mumbled.

“Well?” Bifrost asked again, staring Spitfire down expectantly.

“Nothing, nothing at all! Just, you know, trying to get her to eat!” Spitfire answered.

“Eat what, your tongue?”

Spitfire’s cheeks burned, her mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water. She slowly pointed a hoof at the jello cup sitting on the night stand. “Th...er... j-jello?”

“Uh-huh, sure it—ACK!” Bifrost yelped when a well aimed pillow collided with his face.

“Seriously, dad?!” Rainbow grunted, hoping she didn’t pop one of her stitches from the toss.

“What?” he asked, tossing the pillow back to her. “I’m just having a little fun!”

“Have it somewhere else!”

“I’ll have you know I’m contractually obligated to torment your dates.”

“You’re...no... what?!” Rainbow balked.

Spitfire put her face in her hooves. Flashbacks of her father doing the exact same things ran through her head. Once again she resolved that Bifrost could never meet her parents. It would be an unholy alliance the likes of which Equestria had never seen before.

“Buuut, seeing as you’re on the mend and I haven’t seen you in a while, I guess I can let her off easy for now,” Bifrost drawled, releasing Spitfire from his grip and sauntering to the opposite side of the bed.

Spitfire let out a relieved sigh, leaning forward until her forehead hit the mattress.

“But you keep your hooves where I can see ‘em, young lady,” Bifrost ordered, pointing an accusing hoof at Spitfire.

Both Spitfire and Rainbow died a little inside.

“How’d your meeting go?” Rainbow asked, desperate for any escape from the previous conversation.

Leaning back in his seat, Bifrost sighed. “It went fine, Dash.”

“You didn’t fire anypony, did you?”

Bifrost shook his head. “I promised you I wouldn’t, and I didn’t.”

“Thanks, dad.”

Sighing, the stallion gave a small nod of his head. “Anything for you, kiddo.”

“So,” Rainbow began after a few moments of awkward silence between the three. “How’s everything in Cloudsdale?”

“Pretty much the same as it always is,” Bifrost answered, stretching his back out a bit. “Lots of construction though.”

“Still?” Spitfire asked, genuinely surprised. “I thought they were just about done replacing the old cloudstone months ago.”

“They finished the repairs to the old supports, but then they started tearing up Feathertop Borough to prepare for new construction.”

“About time they got around to that place,” Rainbow mumbled, “Feathertop’s been a dump since I was a filly.”

Bifrost snorted, “Rainbow, Feathertop was a dump when I was a colt.”

“In fairness, it is an industrial district,” Spitfire observed.

“True enough.” He nodded. “How about Ponyville? Everything there still as interesting as ever?”

“Everything’s been pretty quiet for a while now, actually... it’s really boring,” she answered with a soft pout.

Bifrost and Spitfire chuckled quietly.

“Oh, I forgot to ask with the Princesses showing up and everything, but how’s your wing?” Rainbow asked her marefriend, the concern plain on her face.

“It’s fine, Dash,” Spitfire lied, “just a small strain.”

“Small strains don’t need a cast like that,” Rainbow said, not buying the excuse for a second.

“It’s fine, really.”

Bifrost rolled his eyes and shook his head. “Tell her the truth, Spitfire.”

“Dad?” Rainbow looked at Bifrost, her face awash with confusion.

Spitfire seemed equally flummoxed as Rainbow. “Wha—”

“I talked to your brother the other day when you went upstairs to get your pain meds.”

‘Note to self; kill Rapid.’ Spitfire thought.

“Talked about what?” Rainbow demanded, cringing from another attempt to sit up.

Spitfire couldn’t bear to look Rainbow in the eye, “Dash... remember when we first met, I told you that I messed up my wing?”

“You tore the bicep. We did gliding exercises together last week...”

Spitfire nodded once, her teeth lightly biting down on her cheek. She didn’t want to say more, she didn’t want Rainbow to think it was her fault. She didn’t want to put that kind of emotional stress on her marefriend. “When... well...” she sighed, a hoof rubbing her brow. “Do you remember how you got to the hospital?”

Rainbow shook her head. “No. I.., I was talking to Fleetfoot, then I woke up here.”

Reaching out with a hoof, Bifrost touched Rainbow’s shoulder. “Spitfire carried you here, Dash.”

Quiet settled between them for a moment, Rainbow’s mind processing the implications of her father’s words. Her eyes widened, the realization making itself clear to her. Her lips mouthed a silent ‘no’ as she looked to Spitfire.

“I—”

“Rainbow,” Spitfire quickly interrupted the younger mare, her hoof gently cupping Rainbow’s cheek. “I’ll be alright, it’s not your fault, and I’m gonna get better, okay?”

“But if… if I hadn’t—”

“Rainbow, it’s okay, really.” Spitfire forced a positive smile, her hoof stroking Rainbow’s cheek. “I’d do it again in a heartbeat, and I will get through this. I promise.”

Rainbow wanted to argue, wanted to assert her culpability. It wasn’t right, and she did blame herself for it. Before she could say anything though, a gentle knock on the door distract them.

“Come in,” Bifrost called.

Expecting the knock to be that of a nurse or doctor making their standard rounds, all three were surprised to see Rapidfire step into the room. He looked around a moment before his eyes came to rest on Spitfire.

“Aha, found ya!”

“Rapid, what’s up?” Spitfire eyed her brother, contemplating the best ways to claim vengence.

“They’re looking for you upstairs; they’ve got your discharge papers all set so you can go home.”

Rainbow’s hoof shot to Spitfire’s. “You gotta bust me outta here!”

“Yeah, no,” Bifrost answered, folding his hooves across his chest.

Spitfire looked to Rainbow with an apologetic smile. “Sorry, Dash, this one I can’t help you out of.”

“You’ll still be around to visit, right?”

“With parental supervision,” Bifrost muttered.

Deciding to press her luck, Spitfire leaned down and kissed Rainbow on the cheek. “Your dad’ll need to work harder than that to scare me off.”

“That could be arranged.” Bifrost grinned, his comment earning a potent glare from his daughter.

Spitfire ignored the comment. “I’ll be back later tonight or first thing tomorrow, okay?”

“Promise?”

“Cross my heart,” Spitfire answered, her hoof swiping over her chest.

It took a fair amount of effort, but Rainbow managed to wrap her forelegs around Spitfire in a loose hug. Spitfire did her best to return the embrace, ever mindful of Rainbow’s more extensive injuries. They did their best to pretend they had the room to themselves, a point made easier as Bifrost and Rapid remained fairly discreet.

“I don’t wanna let go,” Rainbow whispered.

Spitfire nuzzled her cheek against Rainbows. “Good, cause I don’t want you to.”

Rainbow kept her forelegs wrapped around Spitfire as long as her body would tolerate. Spitfire lightly kissed Rainbow’s cheek, closing her eyes and savoring the closeness while she could. When she felt Rainbow’s forelegs begin to tremble she pulled away, making sure the weather mare saw her smiling warmly.

“I’ll see you in a little bit, okay?”

“Kay,” Rainbow answered, “I’ll be here.”

Following her brother out of the room, Spitfire sighed as the door closed behind her. Rapid gave her a light hug with a wing, ushering her towards the elevator. She noticed Rapid was eying her anxiously the entire way, though he didn’t speak up, at least until they were both alone in the elevator.

“How’s the wing?”

“The pills they give me help, but it still hurts like hell.”

“Sorry.”

She shrugged. “I’ll be alright.”

“So, um… about Fleetfoot...” Rapid began.

“Dash told me what happened,” Spitfire interrupted, earning a surprised look from Rapid.

“What’d she say?”

“She blames herself for what happened.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, I’ll tell you about it later.”

Rapidfire nodded, his hoof pawing at the floor for a moment. “Wanna get dinner? I’ll buy.”

Spitfire smiled; she couldn’t remember the last time they had gone out for a bite and an honest chat. “Sounds good to me.”

Eyes, black as pitch and trimmed with golden brown watched the quiet room. They never blinked, never moved, never twitched, and never judged. Fleetfoot stared into her teddy bear’s eyes, her own reflection staring right back at her. With a heavy sigh, she closed her eyes and let her forehead rest against the matted fur.

The sun was setting over Manehattan. Orange beams of light filtered through the windows of Fleetfoot’s apartment, drifting further upwards as day yielded to night. Looking over her shoulder, she eyed the dufflebag laying open on the floor, stuffed with a few small necessities she had worked up the motivation to pack. She didn’t plan to leave for a few more days; not before she had managed to eat the perishable items in her fridge.

A knock on the door startled her. Her heart skipped a beat. Not for the first time, she wondered if the Guard had been ordered to take her in. Despite repeated assurances from Arcus and the two unicorns he had been with earlier in the week, she couldn’t stop herself from panicking about it. With an anxious gulp, she moved to the door and pulled it open, her posture tensed.

Spitfire stood just across the threshold, her crippled wing held securely in a black sling. Rapidfire stood just behind her, his expression cautious. Spitfire looked to Fleetfoot, a torrent of thoughts and emotions roiling in the amber orbs.

“May I come in?” she asked quietly.

“What for?” Fleetfoot asked, not keen on getting punched again.

“I just wanna talk, Fleet.”

“You just wanted to talk last time too.”

Spitfire sighed, her posture sinking. When she finally spoke her voice was barely more than a whisper. “I know… and I’m sorry.”

Confusion spread across Fleetfoot’s face. “What?”

“I’m sorry about what happened last time I was here. I’m sorry I lost my temper, I’m sorry I hit you, and… and I’m sorry I hurt you.”

Fleetfoot considered Spitfire’s words for a time, her eyes shifting from her to Rapid. He gave her a pleading look, silently begging her to give them a chance. Letting out a breath, Fleetfoot shook her head. Being a Wonderbolt meant trusting your life to your wingpony’s hooves, and while Fleetfoot wasn’t a Wonderbolt anymore, there were some things she wouldn’t turn in with her uniform. Fleetfoot stepped aside, pulling the door open in a tentative display of trust.

“You guys want some coffee?” she asked.

“No, thanks.”

“I’m good.”

Fleetfoot closed the door behind them, hoping she made the right choice. Spitfire and Rapid both noticed the clutter of the usually immaculate apartment in addition to the half packed duffel bag. The twins shared a look before turning their attentions back to Fleetfoot.

“Going on a trip?” Spitfire asked.

“...Yeah.”

“Where?” Rapid asked, a frown on his lips.

“Anywhere but here,” she answered. “Maybe look for a new job.”

Spitfire took a cautious step towards Fleetfoot. “Fleet, I think you should reconsider your resig—”

“It’s already done,” Fleetfoot snapped, “I gave Arcus my resignation days ago! Hell, I nearly killed somepony! I can’t—”

“I can talk to Arcus,” Spitfire interrupted, “you can take this year on the benched roster and come back after that.”

“Why? What is the Celestia-damned point when I’m the one who nearly killed an Element of Harmony?!”

“Fleetfoot, Rainbow doesn’t blame you for what happened,” Spitfire explained.

Fleetfoot seemed stunned by the revelation. “What?”

Spitfire nodded, taking a step towards her estranged friend. “I was there, Celestia and Luna showed up personally to find out what happened. Rainbow said it was her fault.”

“...Bullshit…” Fleetfoot muttered, utterly baffled by the information.

“It’s true, I swear,” Spitfire pressed a hoof to her chest.

Shaking her head, Fleetfoot sat down, her back against the door. “Why wouldn’t she? I mean.. it… it makes no sense...”

“Fleet...” Spitfire sat beside her teammate, “I was standing in the room while Rainbow told Celestia herself what happened. She stuck up for you and begged them not to blame you for what happened.”

Fleetfoot shook her head, tears staining her cheeks.

“Soarin’ and I will be leading the team now,” Rapid cut in, sitting on the other side of Fleetfoot. “We’d like you to stay around too.”

“Soarin’ hates me.”

“Oh please.” Spitfire rolled her eyes. “The oversized marshmallow couldn’t hate anything if he tried.”

“You drive him crazy, but he respects you,” Rapid added.

Fleetfoot wiped her eyes, and took a deep breath. “I need to think about this.”

“We’ll make sure Arcus holds your resignation until you’re ready,” Rapid promised.

Fleetfoot nodded.

“So,” Spitfire began, biting at her lip uncomfortably, “are we good?”

Fleetfoot cast a sideways glance to Spitfire. Lifting her left hoof, she gave Spitfire’s shoulder a hard smack. Spitfire yelped, more in surprise than pain.

“I deserved that,” Spitfire mumbled after regaining her composure, a hoof rubbing the sore patch of flesh.

“Now we’re good.” Fleetfoot answered.