Of all things spanning through the flowing galaxies to the core of the planet through the synapses of the mind, one thing was absolutely certain.
And that one thing? Nothing was certain.
Rainbow Dash was not a pony of intellect, nor a scholar, but she was not a fool. She kept her wits about her, her mind sharp and her flight sharper, but now, in this moment, her judgment was no less than nebulous.
Rainbow Dash was uncertain of how long her wing had been broken, splintered like a toothpick, and strung up in the hangman’s noose that was this sling.
Rainbow Dash was uncertain of when exactly it would be usable again. Sure, she knew it would heal, how could it not, with the fawning she had received from her friends and the tide of doctors and hospitals it had been since the break. Yes, it would heal. Though deciphering when exactly when one doctor says three months and one swears by six, was uncertain.
Most of all, Rainbow Dash was uncertain how exactly she had managed to come barrelling to the ground hard enough to shatter her wing, her left wing, her good wing, in the first place. Somewhere along a triple-backwards-double-inside-out loop, something just hadn’t gone quite right, and then everything after that went quite wrong.
Obviously, it had been the weather. Yeah, that was it, a misplaced gust of air had stolen away from the breeze and tripped her. Or better yet, it was a cloud; that lazy weather team, sometimes a pegasus just gets tired of having to tell them to pull it together all day. Maybe it was a bird. A flying feathered fowl had caused her faceplant.
Yeah, yeah, perfect, that was it. Watertight.
Some birds, Celestia, they just don’t know how to fly straight. Some birds just need get with the program, or they could send some pegasi tumbling to the ground. And then break their wings, and really ground her.
Because, in this world of uncertainty, if it was at all possible, in one teeny tiny little mite of a corner, one thing was indeed certain; Rainbow Dash was a damn awesome flier.
And this would have been what she had told herself, on any other day, and maybe with any other wing. Functional, moveable wing, that is.
BRRRRRRRRRRRIIIIIIIIIINNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNGGGGGGG-
“Graarrgh,” Rainbow Dash groaned like a toothless neanderthal, one cyan hoof thrusting out from under a heap of blankets, and maybe a bit of dirty laundry. She felt around on the nightstand, slapping her hoof against the wood aimlessly, knocking the clutter over and off the edge without a care as the shrill noise continued to bore into her brain.
IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIINNNNNNNNNNNNNGGGGGGGGGGGGGGG-
With a string of muffled expletives, the grumbling pegasus began to struggle beneath her blanket pile, before wincing as she was painfully reminded of her splinted wing. She was choked by a flash of wing-pain, last week’s saddle, a moth-eaten blanket, and another flash of pain and Rainbow Dash had still not reached the end of her blanket cocoon, but she had surely reached the end of her rope.
IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIING-
The demonic alarm stopped abruptly when Dash grabbed ahold of it. “Nyah!”
By the sound it made, Rainbow Dash concluded that alarm clocks could reach a frightful velocity when chucked out of the window.
******
Everything was slow.
The drag from bed, post-alarm, was slow.
Breakfast was slow. Cold leftovers.
Especially slow was the time Rainbow Dash spent just sitting.
She did not usually enjoy to sit. It was like voluntarily being tied down, choosing to land somewhere and embrace laze rather than doing something, sailing the skies. It was not an activity Rainbow Dash would elect to spend a minute on. This time, however, she felt no spite as her flank met her practically-new couch.
The pegasus turned, looking out the window. From her vantage point, she might as well have been drifting though some vast, endless ocean; blue, blue everywhere as far as she could see. There was not a cloud in the sky, it was only a pool of crystal color that only begged her to lend a wing. Just one measly little flight, what she wouldn’t give to cruise the sky, just for one little moment.
Her wing twitched, and another shot of pain pierced her spine.
How could she have been so dumb? For once, and she would never admit it, Rainbow Dash regretted her brashness. Had she been just the slightest bit more careful, she wouldn’t be sitting alone in her home, her wing splintered and her spirit bruised.
Had she been just a little more careful, Dash could have been flying, she could have flown out to meet her friends, or to serve her town, or to just be useful at all.
The pegasus stared into the unforgiving blue of the sky, unblinking.
Then again, what would be the point anyway? She could have her wing, she could have her power of flight, and what then? What was she to do?
Rainbow Dash only stared, miles away.
Would she fly around forever, wearing the repugnant self-proclaimed hero cloak she had sewn for herself? Would she always remain that one mare who would get called upon for assistance and then berated in the same day, looked up to when they were in need and then looked down on when she was in need?
Maybe now, when she was physically grounded, her mind was too, for the first time. Maybe when Dash’s wing was in bits and her facade with it, she would realize what it meant, and what she would give to be, just for a day-
Normal.
Normal. How sweet the word sounded, just rolling off her lips as Dash said it aloud. It was hardly a reality to her, but rather a reality only to those who hadn’t a fabulous reputation or sick moves to keep up. But this time, it felt real, but distant. It was something she, being the way she was, could never hope to achieve.
Rainbow Dash stared. And stared and stared, until her eyes felt glazed and she lost sensation, her only reality being a longing for a different one.
A bird flew by outside, Dash’s wing twitched, and life came knocking back to her.
Carrots, she needed carrots.
*****
Twenty minutes and an awkward struggle to the ground--she had insisted on a ladder; no more hospitals-- from her cloud home later, Rainbow Dash was well on her way to the market.
The former speed-demon had never walked to the market before. She felt unimaginably slow, trudging along, and Dash was quite sure she was dragging her hooves. Somehow, though, this time it did not bother her as much as it should have.
However, it was still quite a walk, or at least it felt like it. At any rate, Rainbow Dash could feel her mouth drying up as she clamped her coin purse in her jaws and mentally noted to appreciate saddlebags more in the future.
Finally, rows and rows of vivid booths and vendors greeted her, selling everything from bicycle tires to cabbage to candies. Packs of shoppers bounced from booth to booth like pinballs, some haggling, others just paying and moving on with their heads bowed.
Somewhere, in this gaggle of gift garages would be the carrot vendor, surely.
Over green, red, yellow manes, Rainbow Dash did not look at anyone she did not immediately recognize as a close friend, but it seemed that everyone would glance at her. Wide, colorful eyes would look up from their shopping bags and follow her as she passed, tracing over her bent head and clipped wing. Surely Ponyville’s resident sky splitter extraordinaire had no business walking through the market like everyone else, and it was certainly a rare sight.
Not even during her numerous show-off sessions had the pegasus ever felt more conspicuous, or more abnormal.
Daring to look up from under a few strands of loose prismatic bangs, Rainbow Dash met eyes with a mare by the orange stand, who had been watching her with a sickening expression that connoted pity. Fueled by her existentialist crisis, the cyan pegasus snapped at her, “D’you wanna take a picture?”
The mare dropped her gaze to the ground, mumbling something to herself, maybe an apology. She turned sheepishly back to the vendor, who had witnessed the uncomfortable moment, and, once again, Rainbow was reminded of just how far outside normal she was.
Finally, gleaming like the home of the gods on Mount Olympus, there it was. “Finally.”
The bitter pegasus neared the carrot counter, an oasis in a desert of judgmental ponies. Never had Dash thought that she would be so relieved to see the knobbly orange vegetable, which, in all honestly, she had never been the greatest fan of anyway.
The mare dropped the coin purse onto the counter from her jaws with a sputter and a jangle. “Uh, just one bunch, please.” A bound group of carrots pushed forward by the rather gruff vendor answered her question, and she began to rifle through her little pouch.
“Four bits.” A bit steep for carrots, but Rainbow Dash, for once, was not feeling argumentative. She nodded without protest and nudged aside a few coins with her snout buried halfway in the purse.
“Yeah, I got it, right he-” As the pegasus withdrew the money, she was cut off by a gentle tug on the ends of her wild mane.
“Hey, ‘scuse me, you’re Rainbow Dash!” There stood a tiny pegasus colt that rose no higher than just past her legs, his short mane windswept and disheveled, peculiar golden eyes flicking back and forth over her face like a cat watching a pendulum.
Forgetting, momentarily, about her purchase, the cyan mare turned over her shoulder to look at the colt, abandoning her typical act of bravado--maybe a loop or two-- whenever her name was mentioned. “That’s my name, sport, don’t wear it out.”
The colt, the iciness about him extremely unnerving, didn’t seem the slightest bit fazed at her aloof response. “Whatcha doin’? Buying carrots?”
It was as though Dash’s face had a mind of it’s own as her brow cocked between glancing from the carrot bunch to the colt. “What’s it lo-”
The colt, who continued to search her face unblinkingly, did, evidently, not care for pleasantries after all. “That’s cool.” He said, the young pony’s voice indicating that there was indeed nothing less cool under the sun.
Brow furrowed, Rainbow Dash stayed quiet for a moment, unsure of what to make of this youngster, or his eerily-staring eyes. The colt sat on his haunches, head tilted and eye-contact unbreaking, as though he expected her to sprout antennae or she was an animal in a zoo, and he was waiting for her to do something neat.
Deciding this awkwardness had no business in being prolonged, Dash grabbed the carrots by the leaves from the counter, sliding them off. “Yeeeaah, I’m gonna leave. Good talk, kid.” The mare turned away and began her homestretch.
She hadn’t taken five steps before the sound of little hooves in the dirt caught her attention. Sparing a sideways glance, Rainbow Dash noted the unsettling colt following her, his short legs having to take two strides for each one of hers. Finally, he was beside her, even if he had to canter to keep up.
“So, if you’re Rainbow Dash, can you do, like, cool tricks or something?”
Yeah, this was what she needed now. “Yeah, but not today.”
Even though she did not look over, Rainbow could almost feel the heat of the the colt’s interrogating eyes following her once more.
“Why not?” Seriously, was this kid blind?
“Broken wing.”
The hoof-patter beside her sped up as the colt dashed in front of the mare, walking backwards just for the sake of being able to watch her. “But you’re Rainbow Dash!”
That much was true. She was Rainbow Dash, but as her name was repeated and repeated, it seemed less like a name she once stood by and more like an identity she wished to lose, even if only for the day. What would it take to just blend in for a few measly hours?
“Yeah kid, I hate to break it to ya, but even Rainbow Dash can have off days, ‘kay?”
A cheshire grin became to spread across the colt’s face, growing large, smug. “That’s what my dad said.”
A tiny pang of anger spiked Dash’s stomach. “What’d he say?”
The colt’s grin was haunting, almost as if he took glee in chewing his gossip around in his mouth. To him, it tasted sweet, to Rainbow Dash, it puckered like vinegar. “He said that those who fly high, fall the hardest.” The colt continued to gallop backwards. “He also said that that’s why you broke your wing.”
Only now did Rainbow Dash realize the truth in his statement, and it crushed her like a cinder block to the chest. Truth, yes, but the truth came to her hand-in-hand with fury.
“Oh, yeah?”
“Yeah. He also said another thing.”
The mare’s eyes had narrowed to slits, her teeth almost severing the leaves of the carrots she still carried. This time, she did not break her gaze to the colt, despite his ever-watchful, feline eyes and grin that reeked of schadenfreude. Underneath the deceptively childish windswept mane, the colt was a snake, a snake with its fangs sunk deep into the flesh of a mouse, rolling it around.
“And?” Rainbow Dash was almost certain she wanted to know. Almost.
“He said you’re never gonna be like the rest of us.” The words drove a spike through Dash’s heart; she knew what was coming. “You’re never going to be normal.”
Oh, the things she could have done. She could have punted the kid like a football into next week, field goal. She could have knocked him over with a barrelling somersault, strike. She could have pinned him to a tree with her newly-weaponized carrots, bullseye.
But Rainbow Dash did none of those. She said not a word as she continued to stride and the colt, who had said his piece and had no more fire to start, left into the opposite direction, the cheshire grin still on his face as though he would never part with it again.
*****
The sun was sliding over her cloud home, shining orange through the window and reflecting over the bunch of carrots, left forgotten on the table. The house was devoid of it’s owner’s usual whoops and flips and flits, boasting and energy. All that was left was a cyan mare who needed a ladder to climb ten feet into her own home.
Normal. She’d been tasting the word all afternoon. It was bitter and sweet, sour and salty, it was all the things she hated. And yet, it represented a certain kind of freedom to Dash; the freedom to just do as one pleases, without a care about reputation.
For once, who cared about standing out? Who cared about be the greatest of the great and never letting anyone forget it? Wouldn’t it be sweet to just have an evening of absolutely no concerns? What would it take?
These thoughts strung through Dash’s brain, and the answer couldn’t have been more clear. Tonight, she was electing that she had no more bucks to give.
However, in order for that to work, Rainbow Dash had to expand her territory, go out somewhere where no one knew her, no one could judge her, and certainly no one could ruin her night.
*****
Finally, night had dropped over the town, and the bustling of its citizens had come to an end. Silence had slid over the rooftops in time with the sun over the horizon.
Rainbow Dash had hardly noticed the darkness leaking in from the window as she stared ahead of her, meeting the cerise gaze of her own reflection. Even, it seemed, in the pupils of her eyes stood the words of her own reckoning:
Normal.
“Normal, yeah.” Rainbow Dash felt her lips move, and her reflection did the same. “Just blend in.”
Things were difficult to find in the Dash residence; clutter, the pegasus believed, was freedom, and freedom was her muse. Were these her usual circumstances, she would never have dared to rifle through her beautiful mess and tilt the “natural ecosystem” of her chaos, but in these very unusual circumstances, the mare had made an exception.
She lifted the comb, which had taken an hour and a few new gray hairs to find, and raked it through her bangs. It was such a mundane task, but it couldn’t have felt stranger to the tomboy-ish pegasus.
Rainbow Dash continued to rake away at her mane, scraping it back over the crest of her head until it was made clear that she had forgotten what her forehead looked like after a life with choppy bangs.
Gathering her hair and bangs back, Rainbow Dash tied her mane up into a messy ponytail, choosing to ignore the few strands that fell out and framed her face in an effortless look. The distinct colors of her mane blended together, a far cry from the usual colorblock look of red, orange, yellow, and so on. A ponytail, of all things, was so easy, so commonplace, but Dash hardly recognized the mare staring back at her.
This mare, the pretty one with the loose ponytail, was no tomboy with a choppy mane and a choppy attitude. This mare was a lady, some foreign beauty that had come into town to blind the townsfolk with her carelessly-awesome ponytail.
After just one more moment to admire her look, it was time for phase two. Dash held the twin cases in her hooves. These had been difficult to find, and even more difficult to buy anonymously, but the result made it all worthwhile. The cyan mare blinked rapidly, adjusting the squishy lenses in her eyes, before looking up to meet her own eyes in the mirror, now swimmingly blue.
Phase three was upon her. Rainbow trotted to her closet, clearing her way through blankets and sweaters and what-have-you like an explorer hacking her way through the brush. There, at the back of the closet, on probably the only hanger she owned, was her special-occasion saddle.
Shuffling over the mounds of mess--and nearly tripping and cursing over a Wonderbolt action figure--Rainbow Dash admired her only girly piece. Although she would never give Rarity the pleasure of knowing, the pegasus had to admit how pretty it was.
And it was just the perfect size to cover up that giveaway cutie mark of hers, and leave her looking decent to boot. The saddle, which also conveniently hid her broken wing, the hair, and the lenses were the greatest disguises; Rainbow Dash felt fairly certain that the pony who could still identify her under all this cover deserved a medal, a spot in the Equestrian Secret Service, and a personal hoofbump from Celestia.
One thing remained, however; the knowledge that beneath the saddle, Rainbow was still Dash. She could still be herself, but a spiffier, more refined version, a more normal version of herself.
But that didn’t mean she couldn’t look damned good doing it. Her getaway look complete, Rainbow Dash stole another minute before the mirror, thankful that no one could see her, and admired herself.
Yes, it was a fact; looks could kill, but Rainbow Dash’s looks could raise the dead. She winked in the mirror and shrugged.
“I’d do me.”
*****
There was no denying it; Rainbow Dash was in a shady part of town. She’d heard about it in passing from a few very vain-looking teen fillies, but that was really the extent of the mare’s familiarity with the nightclub she now faced. Word of mouth did not do it justice; the building was far creepier in person.
As she stared into the belly of the beast--its weapons being peeling paint, loud, muffled music from behind a large metal door, and a group of intoxicated stallions whistling at her from the corner--Rainbow Dash cocked a grin and reminded herself that she was, after all, afraid of nothing.
The music inside was deafening. Each thump of the intense bass throbbed through every nerve ending in her body, pounding with her blood to her very core. Dash’s heart raced, almost in time with the music, as she craned her neck to scan over the heads of the throngs of gyrating ponies. Some were conversing, their mouths moving, but their words were drowned out by the headache-inducing, eardrum-wracking beat.
It hardly took a minute for Dash to conclude that there was no one she knew here. Naturally, there wouldn’t be; the idea of the other Elements of Harmony head-bobbing to the rhythm or throwing it back at the bar with the tattooed chain gang was laughable.
The thought, while it brought a slight smile to Dash’s face, also brought a question to her mind.
“What the hay am I doing here?” She wondered aloud; no one could hear her anyways.
It was a valid question; what now? Dash considered heading out onto the dance floor, pulsing with the rest of the entranced crowd, but a twitch in her wing reminded her of why that wasn’t a viable option.
She could chat it up with a stallion, show him what a Rainbow really tasted like, but the skin-crawling, downright predatory looks she was receiving reminded her why that was not a viable option either.
The mare, tired of being shoved around in a tide of sweaty ponies and utterly out of ideas, did the only thing she could think of.
“What’ll you have?” Dash unscrewed her expression and, giving up, tossed aside the lengthy drink card as she heard the bartender’s inquiry.
“Just... gimme something strong.” Now was not the time for a fruity thing with an umbrella, not that she would drink that under normal circumstances anyway.
As the bartender sidled down the line to take the next order, Dash turned in her stool, finding the seat itself quite uncomfortable. She unconsciously blew a strand of loose hair from her eyes as her mind began to wander.
Ponies filled up the smoky, but large, room from wall to wall, their inked coats and partially-shaved manes clear brandings of their collective status’ as the underbelly of Equestria. With every wink she received from another crusty stallion, and for every couple getting just a tad too personal in a booth, Rainbow Dash felt more and more out of place. Not to mention the fact that her saddle was itchy, and riding up her flank.
Perhaps she shouldn’t have come in the first place. Perhaps she could not even find a place blending in with the misfits.
“-just something strong, something with a punch, y’know, thanks.” A female voice, extremely sweet yet smoky, came to Rainbow Dash’s ears. She perked up immediately, swiveling back around in her stool.
A new mare had come to take the open space beside her, tapping one hoof absently against the bar while her head rested in the other, facing away from Dash. Rainbow could not keep her eyes from making a beeline down the curve of the mystery-mare’s back, half-hidden by a saddle not unlike her own.
A shyness that she was not at all used to, in fact, rather ashamed of, overtook Rainbow Dash in the company of this new mare; it was the only thing to cumber the launch of what might have been a witty conversation starter.
Come on, what is wrong with you? The pegasus mentally berated herself. You’re not afraid of anything, remember?
As another minute ticked by, the flaw in that statement made itself brutally clear to Dash, as did the realization that she was staring.
The mare beside her shifted in position, and although her face was still turned away, Rainbow Dash took evasive action and whipped her head in the opposite direction, feigning to be busy at working looking for a friend in the crowd. Her heart raced, and the pegasus could not comprehend her own behavior.
Are you kidding me. It was certainly not a question, rather a statement of disbelief. Who am I, Fluttershy?
Rainbow slowly turned her head back, stealing a sidelong glance at the mare for the umpteenth time. Just as she resolved that the next sentence would be an icebreaker, her cards were dealt for her.
The mare suddenly turned around, her straight, and silky, brown mane flicking over her shoulder. Her beauty was striking; immediately Rainbow Dash was caught like a fish on a hook by the mare’s eyes. A shimmery, sunset-goldenrod color, the wide, long-lashed orbs felt undeniably familiar to the cyan pegasus, even as they drew the breath right from her lungs.
“Sorry, but I have to ask; do you like it here?” The mare replaced her head on her hoof, looking thoroughly disappointed, but still mind-numbingly beautiful. It took Dash a moment to remember that a question begged an answer.
And suddenly, bravado rushed back into Rainbow as though someone had just removed their hoof from the nozzle of her confidence-supply.
“Oh yeah. I practically own this joint.” She pivoted on her stool again, resting against the bar on both elbows, jacuzzi-style.
The pretty mare chuckled. “Yeah, it’s my first time here too.”
Taken aback, Dash turned to the mare. How did she-?
The orange-pelted mare motioned to the cyan mare’s attire. “You’re the only other pony in here wearing a saddle.”
Rainbow Dash could not have imagined regretting a fashion choice more.
“Hey, I usually don’t wear this kind of stuff, I swear!” The mare chuckled again at the flustered pegasus, her laugh melodic like a tinkling bell.
“Relax, I believe you, me neither.” She shifted in the clothing, crinkling her nose in the cutest possible way. “It’s actually really itchy.”
Dash broke into a grin, but her retort was nipped away as the bartender finally returned, sporting two different, but equally intimidating, glasses of liquor on a tray. He set down the drinks, and with a quick rundown of the counter with a questionable-looking rag, left the two mares to eye their poisons.
“I...guess that one’s yours.”
“Yeah, probably.” Rainbow slid the drink nearest her off of the tray, watching the glass with the wary look of a rabbit to a snake. “I don’t really drink, usually.”
The other mare, who had been dabbing up a drop of her drink from the side of the glass, nodded, grinning up at Dash sheepishly. “Me neither, I have no idea why I’m even here.”
Rainbow laughed, her voice cracking once. “So, if the saddle’s so itchy, why’d you wear it?” I know why Idid.
The orange filly looked to her glass, tracing the rim with the tip of her hoof. “I heard that’s what ponies usually wear when they go out, I guess I just wanted to-”
Rainbow’s falsely-blue eyes met the mare’s golden orbs, and the connection between them in that moment was almost tangible as she spoke, finishing the other mare’s sentence. “-blend in.”
The brown-haired mare cracked a smile, glowing as though there was a fire burning just beneath the surface of her coat. “Yeah.”
The pegasus took advantage of the moment, flicking her ponytail with a hoof in her characteristically playful, boastful way. “I’m-” She sucked her name back into her mouth, swallowing it as her mind raced to come up with another, preferably something similar; she did not need to forget her own name later in the evening. “-Spectrum.”
Dash, now Spectrum, mentally patted herself on the back for her quick-draw skill with nomenclature.
The orange mare offered a giggle, before speaking, almost tripping over her own words. “Spi-iiiiice. Spice. Pumpkin Spice, hi.”
“Awesome name, Spice.” Just like the word it denoted, Spice’s name tasted sweet on Rainbow’s tongue. “But you know what? My drink looks better than yours.”
She held the glass of dark amber liquid to the light, appraising her dose of liquid courage with a cocky grin. “Oh yeah. Definitely better.”
Spice snorted, lifting her own glass and staring into it from eye-level, her eyes comically large through the curved glass. “Pssh, yeah right, I’m pretty sure these are flakes of gold in here.” She closed one eye, a jeweler appraising her gold. “My drink has more class than yours.”
Rainbow threw her head back in a laugh of mirth. “Ha, right, fancy-shmancy. There’s only one way to settle this.” At this point, it was no longer out-of-place, depressed Rainbow Dash with a broken wing talking; it was Spectrum, the confident, competitive mare that she identified herself with, simply under a different name. “Throw her back.”
She had lifted her glass partway to her lips when Spice stopped her hoof.
“A toast, maybe?” Rainbow shrugged and nodded.
“Knock yourself out.”
Spice raised her glass, the liquid it held rippling and reflecting in the light. Rainbow met hers in the air, their glasses meeting in a clink that sent a couple drips of alcohol spilling from each.
“To abnormality.”
*****
“N-no really, I *hic* swear!” Rainbow Dash choked out her words between hiccups, wiping a tear of mirth from her eye with the back of her hoof as laughter wracked her body, her voice cracking non-stop.
Somewhere between the fourth and fifth round, every single sentence was proclaimed to be the finest bit of comedy in Equestria, and was therefore immediately succeeded by unstoppable peals of laughter.
Spice pounded her hoof down onto the counter, her drink sloshing onto the counter, though she couldn’t have cared less.”No, nuh-uh, suuuuuure you can *hic* do a Sonic Rainboom. I on-hahah-ly ever met one pony who can *hic* do a Sonic Rrrrrboom.” The orange mare washed her verbal slur down with another mouthful of gilded liquor.
“Nnno, really, they don’t call me *hic* Really Fast Spectrum for nuthin’.” Rainbow zoomed her hoof through the air to illustrate her prowess as “Really Fast Spectrum” to the disbelieving Spice, almost knocking her drink over for the third time.
“Nopony even *hic* calls you that, I bet.”
Rainbow laughed loudly once more, throwing her head back and almost falling from her stool. “Yeah well, if I can’t do a *hic* Sonic Rainboom, you never *hic* flew with the Wonderbolts!” Her expression turned smug, as if she had just proven a point in a debate through nothing less than cold, hard logic.
Spice’s face turned indignant. “I did too! I am *hic* the Captain, you know!”
Rainbow Dash looked as though she would choke and keel over from laughter. “Hahaha, no yer not. D’you know how I know that?” Without waiting for an answer, the trashed pegasus continued, stunning everyone in the vicinity with her facts. “‘Cause th’ Wonderbolt’s Captain’s Spitfire, and you can’t be *hic* Spitfire, ‘cause yer name’s Spice!”
She rumpled the mare’s brown mane with a cyan hoof. Spice attempted to swat her away, but in her muddled state, she looked more like a hopelessly-flapping flightless bird. “And, yer hair’s brown, ‘n Spitfire’s hair is like,” Dash paused, considering an alternative word for “fire-ish”, “- not brown!”
Spice shook her head as her eyes widened in revelation, her countenance turning serious. “You must be *hic* right. Bartender!” She hollered over her shoulder, the sudden shift in position nearly sending her tumbling.
Rainbow chimed in, flailing her hoof through the air. “‘Nother round!” She piped, motioning to her empty glass.
“No can do ladies, you’ve both had enough!”
Spice turned back around, rolling her eyes and groaned, “UGH. Now what?” She slumped onto her hooves, knocking her empty glass over and staring at it with a frown as though blaming it for her troubles.
Dash stood on all four legs, swaying like a willow for a moment before regaining her footing, clumsily tugging Spice’s tail to grab her new friend’s attention. Being cut off definitely warranted the need for a new locale. “Let’s go, this place is *hic* booooring ‘nyway!”
Spice clumsily got to her hooves, weaving behind Dash as they made to leave. They made it to the door of the now far-emptier bar, before the gruff voice of the bartender called to them.
“Hey, what about your tabs?” After six or so rounds of liquors swimming with precious metals, the cumulative bill was surely no peddler’s fee.
Dash snickered lazily and turned, unsteadily waving to the stallion holding the dirty counter-rag. “‘S no big deal, my friend can pay,” She indicated her friend by clumsily hip-checking her out the door. “She’s a Wonderbolt!”
*****
The late-night air felt cool as it rippled through Dash’s coat, drying the flecks of alcohol she had spilled on herself somewhere along the line. She breathed deeply and closed her eyes, having almost forgotten what fresh air felt like upon emerging from the smoky cocoon.
From nowhere, the pegasus felt herself being yanked down and almost kissed the cobblestone as she yelped, “Hey! What the-?”
Spice, who clearly had a far lower tolerance for alcohol than Dash and was hammered into next week, had flung both of her forelegs around the cyan mare’s neck and was clinging to her like a koala to a eucalyptus. She looked up a Dash with a sheepish grin.
“Sorry, I *hic* slipped.” Dash followed her gaze downward, to the glistening cobblestones glazed with either spilled beer or urine--the smell was rank in either case--though the pegasus silently prayed it was the former.
“No sweat.” Dash laughed, flicking her tail. With some help from the pegasus, Spice teetered to her feet, awkwardly sidestepping the puddle of unidentified liquid.
“There’s *hic* stuff everywhere.”
She spoke the truth. They two mares were surrounded by debris; broken bottles and bits of glass, food wrappers of all sorts, and a half-shredded leather saddle. It looked like a tornado had torn apart the bar-front, but rather than a whirlwind of hot and cold air, this tornado had tattoos and piercings and left in large, alcohol-reeking packs.
“Gross, I do *hic* so not wanna step in anything.” Dash thought aloud, voicing what what on both of the mare’s minds. However, a look left and right revealed that if they were planning on moving from their spot anytime soon, the two would have to choose between tip-toeing around bottle shards and trudging through a swamp of what looked like, and smelled like vomit.
Nope, you’re not gonna walk in barf, Rainbow Dash. “I bet I can *hic* jump over this stuff.” She declared, backing up as far as she could without meeting the puddle of bile. “Yeah, all the way to the other side!”
Spice softly grunted. Rainbow cocked an eyebrow, turning to face her companion’s skepticism. “What, you don’t think I can-”
She stopped mid-sentence, staring at the empty space here her friend should have been, just a moment ago. “Where’d-”
“Now we *hic* know for-for sure that I’m faster than you.” The orange mare called from the other side of the untouchable river, snorting in laughter. Rainbow’s brow lowered over her eyes, narrowing to slits.
“Hnnpf!” She leapt over to her friend’s side, acknowledging for the hundredth time how much more difficult life was sans wings. The smooth stones of the paved road nearly tripped the tipsy pegasus up, but Dash was unnerved by it as she flicked her tail indignantly, glaring at the mare beside her. “That doesn’t count, you had a head start.”
Spice said nothing, her lopsided grin and raised brow speaking volumes by themselves. Dash felt a flutter in the pit of her stomach, but the momentary distraction was quickly muted by the familiar spirit of competition rising in her chest and ego.
“Rematch, ‘kay, rematch. Starting line’s here, ‘til there.” The pegasus motioned to the determined jump-lines, drawing the end point some feet away, which she was sure would make a tricky jump.
The words had hardly fallen from her tongue before Spice landed with surprising stability on her hooves and turned to face the dumbfounded Rainbow Dash. The leaping mare’s expression had grown even more smug, if possible, and was now written with a new element, one which the cyan mare was more than familiar with; challenge.
“So that’s how you wanna play it, yeah?”
Spice giggled like a filly and took off, leaping from stone to stone as though her hooves came spring-loaded, with Rainbow Dash close behind her, matching the orange mare’s hops with her own, two fully-grown mares becoming no more than fillies chasing each other on the playground. With every gain that Spice made over Dash, the pegasus delved further into a state of disbelief, agitation, and child-like spirit.
“You’re cheating, quit it, slow down!”
Spice did not heed her call, laughing teasingly over her shoulder, her tail flicking with every stride she made from of Dash. The cyan pegasus couldn’t believe what in the name of Luna was happening; maybe the alcohol was hindering her sprint, or her challenger really was something special. In any case, she was Rainbow Dash for crying out loud; beating her in a race was a feat to be reckoned with, and it certainly couldn’t be done by a Fauxnderbolt Ponyvillian.
“Sorry Spectrum,” Of course, that was the problem; tonight, Rainbow Dash was Spectrum, and Spectrum was only Really Fast, not Dash fast. “You’re just going to have to keep up!”
The drunk and sprinting mare giggled again in the most foalishly-adorable way, leaving a rope of “heeheehee” for Dash to grab ahold of.
Who was this mare? Rainbow hadn’t seen her around the town, and she was sure she had saved pretty much every single citizen as Mare-Do-Well at least once. Furthermore, she would definitely have known if there was somepony who even came close to meeting her speed--besides Applejack on hoof--, let alone outracing it.
It was as though she had appeared from nowhere, and now that bolt-from-the-blue was the solid streak of orange and brown that was leaving Dash in the dust. This mystery mare, Pumpkin Spice, as she blazed ahead of her, flaming through the quiet streets of the sleeping town, harbored a strong, almost magnetic pull to the pegasus. Rainbow couldn’t seem to break away.
It wasn’t as though she wanted to, anyway. There was something so irresistible, so familiar about the mare, and it didn’t help Dash’s infatuation that Spice was also stunningly beautiful.
But she was a perfectly infuriating competitor. “Hahaha!” The speedy mare’s laugh was playful, yet taunting. “They should change your name to Spectrum the Slow!”
Although Rainbow still highly doubted that Spice was affiliated with the Wonderbolts, the filly certainly had the Wonderbolt trash-talk down. However, in all of the cyan mare’s Wonderbolt-related fantasies, she would be the one dishing it out, not the one getting dished.
In a final act of desperation, Dash lunged, pouncing like a jungle cat but tackling like a linebacker. She collided cleanly with the orange blur ahead of her, sending them both tumbling as Spice’s hooves left the paving.
“Wha-auuugh!”
The barrelled down the street, a tangle of hooves and manes comprised of one triumphant Rainbow Dash and a very confused Pumpkin Spice. Finally, their velocity was painfully interrupted by a house.
“What the-what the hay-what-” Spice sputtered, shaking dirt out of her hair and spitting grains of sand from her tongue. “What the hay was that?!” She demanded, still inebriated, though the hiccup had been scared clear out of her.
Rainbow Dash snickered, ignoring the twig protruding from her ponytail. “What? You never said tackling wasn’t allowed.”
“Didn’t think I had to!” Spice retorted, her tone strict. She drew back her hoof like a cobra before striking and whapped Dash squarely on the shoulder.
‘What was that?”
The assaulter reared her hoof back again, walloping the cyan mare another on the shoulder, which was beginning to grow sore. “You never said not to hit!” She punctuated her sentence with another light blow..
Dash whipped her head around, giving the mare a crippling evil eye. Spice cocked her head and widened her eyes, silently insinuating for Dash to come at her.
Suddenly, a flurry of cyan and orange hooves thrashed through the air as the two mares pummeled each other mercilessly. Spice, her whaps hitting Dash like rapid fire, dodged this way and that to avoid the other mare’s windmilling hooves, the both of them fighting like schoolfillies between yelps and half-executed bits of trash-talk.
“Quit it!”
“You quit it!”
“You hit like a girl!”
“At least I look like a girl!”
“Hey! This ponytail was hard!”
“Well, you’re...” Spice slowed her blows, clearly at a loss for a comeback. “You’re...blue!” Her drunken mind shouted, reminding her that the best insults were the true ones.
Rainbow dropped her hooves, standing on all four legs once more as she looked at her friend incredulously. “Blue? I’m blue? That’s your comeback?” She bit her lip, before tossing herself backwards and breaking into unstoppable peals of laughter. “Pfffchahahahaha!”
Spice looked momentarily bashful, before cracking a grin that quickly became a smile, and the mare joined into the laughter, giggling at the face of this most ridiculous situation.
The two ponies lie in the middle of the road, in the middle of the town, laughing like maniacs in the middle of the night, and neither cared.
Rainbow’s laugh quieted after a while, dying down to occasional chuckles as she wiped her eye with the back of her hoof, propping her body up into sitting position on the other. The mare glanced at Spice, who had also grown quiet, blinking quickly to clear her head, swimming from all of the
in just the past half hour alone.
“You dizzy?” Spice blinked a few more times before looking for the source of the question.
“Dizzy?” She laughed once and slumped her head into Rainbow’s lap, pressing a hoof to her forehead. “I’m still drunk.”
Dash grinned, leaning back on her forehooves and shrugging playfully. “Hey well, you’re in luck, my lap is the best pillow around.”
“Uggghhh, hehe,” Spice groaned and gave a quiet laugh of assent, before adding, “My head is throbbing like crazy.”
Dash felt her own temple pulsing slightly, and she could only imagine how the lightweight mare on her lap my have fared. Spice continued, stealing away her chance to ask anyhow.
“This was worth it, though.”
Dash raised her eyebrows, looking to her lap to meet the wide, golden eyes looking back into her own, searching. “What do you mean?” Despite having a feeling that she knew the answer, she asked the question regardlessly.
“I had a really fun time.” Spice smiled and turned her head, staring into the moon. She seemed lost in thought, and Rainbow did not find it right to disturb the pensive quiet. “I didn’t think I would.” She almost whispered.
Rainbow Dash sucked in breath after breath as though each came through a straw, her mind spinning from something quite other than the alcohol still coursing through her veins from her rapidly-beating heart. She wanted so much, just in that moment, to brush one of Spice’s loose brown locks over her face, more than anything.
But she resisted, nodding. “Me too.”
Silence wrapped the two together like a woolen blanket, warm, comfortable; Dash felt no need to break it, she had no witty remark to make, to innuendos or quips. All she had was the silence, and the mare in her lap that she’s met not a few hours before, but felt like she’d known all her life.
“Thank you.” The words spilled from her lips before Dash could even notice, or consider them. She felt her heart throb and crumble, certain that she’s turned this moment from sweet to devastatingly sour.
Spice shifted, turning to meet Dash’s blue eyes, swearing she could almost see fleck of a deep wine color reflecting through the blue in the moonlight. “For what?”
The cyan pegasus, tough and brash but now more vulnerable than ever, knew it was now, or never. “I came out today to feel normal, but...” Dash breathed in deeply; she could not believe the words that were about to come from her own lips. “With you, I don’t want to anymore. If being weird means being with you, I wouldn’t want it any other way.” There, she had said it, and even though Rainbow Dash knew she could always blame the alcohol if the situation came to it, she had not had a more sober thought during the entire evening.
Spice remained still for a moment, sending fear oozing through Rainbow’s body like a black sludge, her mind checking out completely.
After the longest minute of the cyan mare’s life, the orange pony moved slowly, propping herself gently onto her forehooves, closing the distance between the two of them.
And had Rainbow Dash been able to keep her eyes open for just another moment, she would have seen that just beneath that sheet of brown hair, the only strand the moonlight reflected off of was the tiniest sliver of fiery-gold.
*****
“Mmmmh...” Spice moaned quietly as Rainbow raked her lips over the orange mare’s neck and down her throat, tickling her golden coat with hot breath. Dash breathed deeply against her fur as she felt two hooves snaking up the sides of her head, running through her mane. There came a gentle tug, and the two embracing ponies were shrouded by a curtain of multi-colored, wild hair.
Dash felt Spice shift slightly, and knew that the other mare had just tossed her hair tie out of the way. She knew it might have landed anywhere--perhaps with their discarded saddles that made the trail to the bed--and in the blackness she would never find it, but the thought was quickly chased from her mind as Spice gave another little hum.
With every sound the mare beneath her made, Rainbow’s ability of thought faded just a little more, until she was a slave to the noises, the only thing left inside her being the primal desire to hear another, and another.
She nipped softly down the plush coat of Spice’s belly, feeling the warmth of her heartbeat, the gentle rise and fall of her breathing under her kisses. Each nip elicited a whimper or a mew from the orange mare, the sweetest music to Rainbow Dash’s ears.
One particularly hard nip sent a twitch through Spice’s form, her hips involuntarily thrusting upward, the motion accompanied by a quiet squeal that sent Dash’s mind reeling. The pegasus could hardly contain her own excitement--which had begun to trickle down her inner thigh--when she felt the warm, damp feeling on an aroused mare against her leg.
“Mmmmf,” Dash groaned, unable to reign it in, heat and thrill burning like wildfire in the pit of her stomach.
In the meantime, Spice had dragged her hooves up and down the cyan fur of Dash’s back, setting her nerves ablaze where they passed, before pressing against the base of her prismatic tail, pulling her even closer. So close, in fact, that Rainbow’s eyes became wider than saucers as she felt a spike of raw pleasure being driven up her spine.
“Aaaaaahhhh...” The two ponies moaned simultaneously as they felt themselves being stimulated by the other, creating an endless maelstrom of heat that swirled between them, centralizing at their cores, connected to the other.
Spice pushed upwards once more, her gasp complimented by her lovers. She gyrated again, and with each passing motion, they became less like two and more like one machine, moving together in the pursuit of heavenly release.
Rainbow Dash’s breathing quickened, her heart beating so fast it felt more like a flutter as she felt her muscles ripple against Spice’s. She buried her snout into the soft fur of the mare’s neck, her moans muffled but still audible as they continued to move.
One minute passed, but it felt a century. Another passed, and it felt like a lifetime. Another came and went, and it felt like eternity.
Suddenly, pain seared through Dash’s shoulder; Spice had sunken her teeth into her flesh in raw, primal passion, muffling her squeals as her orgasm shredded her to pieces, eyes welded shut and sex twitching and rippling between the two.
That was it, that was all it took. As Rainbow Dash felt the pool of pleasure dribbling in the wake of her lover’s orgasm, she could no longer hold back, even if she wanted to, and release swept her away. She shut her eyes impossibly tightly and moaned a loud, extremely saucy moan that absolutely drippied of sex, signifying her end.
Silence wrapped around them once again, only broken by the heavy panting of two spent ponies and the soft pats of liquid on linen.
Completely worn, glazed with sweat, and exhausted to no end, Rainbow Dash still felt absolutely, undeniably perfect. Here, lying in a close, glowing embrace with the mare she had only met that night, she knew deeply that she was anything but normal.
And Rainbow Dash, the abnormal, the stand-out, didn’t mind at all.
****
The light from the sun was blinding as it pulled the cyan pegasus from her slumber, rolling over groggily like a bear awakening from hibernation. Her head throbbed to no end, her body felt sore from the walloping she’s received in a foalish fist-fight, and she was sure that she must have smelled awful, but Rainbow Dash felt content, happy.
She extended a hoof, half-expecting to feel a serenely-breathing form in the plushy hotel-room bed beside her, but she was not surprised to feel her hoof falling through open air and landing on an empty bed. Just as mysteriously as she had appeared, so she had left.
Rainbow stood, yawning widely and blinking, and, feeling the dry, papery texture of slept-in lenses, made for the bathroom.
After watching her artificial eyes swirl and get swallowed by the sink drain, Dash felt a little bit lighter, a little more weight was removed from her chest, and she could breathe just a little bit easier.
It took some trial to return here, but Spectrum was gone, and she wouldn’t return.
A small ring caught her eye, lying quaintly atop the sink-counter; her hair tie, perhaps found and left there as her guest was leaving. Dash picked it up and stretched it absently between her hooves, making to rake back her bangs and gather her mane in the style that had proven itself worthy.
She looked up, catching her own reflection, hooves half-lifted to her head. Now, cerise eyes met cerise, Rainbow Dash faced Rainbow Dash, and her hooves froze.
She blinked once and smiled, genuinely herself for the first time since she had injured her wing. With a quick, careless motion, Dash crazily rumpled her own mane, her bangs falling choppy and colorblocked, the rest of her hair falling wildly behind her neck, before grinning her signature cocky grin.
I look better like this anyway.
With a last look, dash easily tossed the hair tie over her shoulder and, knowing herself with clutter, she would probably never see it again.
*****
An uncertain amount of time later (4 months)
“Soarin’!”
It was not uncommon to hear the somewhat dopey stallion’s name being called through the halls of the Wonderbolt Training Academy early in the morning, but this time, it meant serious business.
“Soarin’, did you get the rosters for today? They’re really important, I thought I told you to grab them-” Spitfire came to a skidding halt outside the kitchen, where she finally found her friend, not wasting a moment in reminding him of his tasks, which he often neglected to do, regardless. Such was the Captain’s job.
The stallion turned on the spot to face her, his eyes wide and his mouth full. His flight partner laughed, taking swift strides in to meet him and clapping him playfully on the shoulder. “Don’t drink that, it’s way too classy for, it’s got gold flakes in it!”
His sudden, lightswitch transformation to an expression of utter revulsion earned another laugh from his boss.
“Blechh,” he spat, shuddering. “What’s even the point of that?”
Come to think of it, Spitfire had no idea herself. “Whatever, somepony had a reason. So uh,” She wrenched her long-time friend to his hooves by his collar, without protest. “We’re late, you know we’ve got tryouts today, and we’re disappointing a whole lotta hopefuls. The rosters?”
She took long strides down the hall, speaking to the stallion over her shoulder as she went, who was following close behind. “Yeah, don’t worry, I got them put down by the tryouts field earlier.” He smiled and raised his brows expectantly at his friend, “C’mon Spitfire, have I ever disappointed you?”
As they reached the end of the hall, Spitfire paused and turned, just before entering the sunlight of the tryouts field. She wore a cocky grin, as she began, “Well, now that you mention it-”
Soarin’ grumbled and playfully nudged her onto the field. “...Shut up.”
“You know I’m just messing with you, you big lug. Now, you’re taking the second wave of tryouts, got it?” He nodded, and she glanced quickly over the assembled and waiting group of pegasi. “I’ll take this lot. Rosters?”
“Here,” He passed her a few leaflets of paper, long lists of names scrawled down each one.
Spitfire nodded, and took her place before the line of hopefuls, scanning down the aisle. “Filles, gentlecolts, welcome to the Wonderbolts’ 14th Annual Recruitment Program.” She began, going through the motions she was so familiar with by now. “Name’s Spitfire, Captain. Now, I know all of you are here because you think you have what it takes to be a Wonderbolt, and I know only some of you do.”
This was the best part; walking up and down the line of pegasi, waiting for somepony, at least one, to step down.
“-And it is my job,” She continued, “To pick out those some. Now, let’s start with attendance; I’ll call your name, you tell me it’s you. Sky Streaker!”
As the crowd lessened with each pegasus that got their name called and moved on, one still stood, fluttering her freshly-healed wing in the ever-burning spirit of competition and an unquenchable thirst to prove herself.
“-Lastly, Rainbow Dash, come on up.”
The cyan pegasus approached the captain, loaded to say something, anything impressive.
“Rainbow Dash, cool name by the way, go ahead and meet Rapidfire at the next-” She glanced up from the page, and froze. “-the next...”
Dash searched the Captain’s face in nothing short of awe to be meeting her long-time idol face-to-face once more. She doesn’t know. Spitfire thought, somewhat grimly.
“-the next hallway, he’ll run you guys over on the routine.” She finally managed to finish, after having missed her train of thought for several stations.
“Awesome!” With that, Rainbow Dash took off, the amount of loops she spun nearly equaling her strides; she darted through the air like a hummingbird.
“Weird bunch this year, right? Whatcha thinkin’?” Soarin’s voice asked from right behind the Captain, who jumped; for a stallion of his size, he was eerily quiet.
Spitfire chuckled to a joke her partner would never know the meaning of. “Not much, but that last filly is Really Fast.”
“Yeah, she was pretty speedy, saw her from over there.” He beckoned to some place behind him that Spitfire did not care to look at. “Still not as strange as some of the tryouts we got last year, ‘member? I’d say the day’s been pretty normal.”
Spitfire’s ear twitched, and she turned briefly to her friend. “What did you just say?”
“My day’s been pretty normal. What about yours?”
The Captain turned back away from Soarin’, her eyes that had four months ago seen cerise through blue squinting in the sunlight, and a smile creeping up her lips.
“Extraordinary.”
