Hybrid Rainbow

A masculine voice groaned in frustration from behind Spitfire's walk-in closet door. The mare was sprawled out on her bed in a provocative manner, wearing her flight jacket unbuttoned. It's been a week since the start of mating season, the initiation party held for Rainbow Dash and the incident involving her throwing herself at Spitfire and forcibly making out with her, having snapped under the pressure of estrus and suppressed emotions. Were it not for the captain's compassionate heart, words of reassurance and soft-spot for her biggest fan, Dash may not have been alive the following morning. The thought of what could've happened otherwise was one that Spitfire did not like thinking about at all.

The thought of what could've happened after her talk with Rainbow Dash, on the other hoof, was something she loved thinking about...

"Auggh, Spitfire, do we have to do this?"

"You know darn well that wednesday night is roleplay night, Soarin'. You agreed to that by contract, remember?"

"But I feel ridiculous in this outfit, its embarrassing! Besides, it's ten o' clock in the morning..."

"I think it looks adorable on you, Soarin'. It's not like anypony else is in the room with a camera. Well, except for that one really scrawny-looking kid working for that Gabby Gums bitch..."

"My point exactly - I'm not going to take any more chances after the months I spent trying to live that down. Nope. Never going down that road again."

"Come on, big guy, do it for me, please? This heat is really starting to ache..."

"Can't we just skip this whole roleplay shtick and just let me mount you? This fixation over Rainbow Dash of yours is really starting to creep me out."

Spitfire began to run out of patience, her voice stern with mild exasperation. "Just get your baby-blue plot over here."

"Fine." The stallion grumbled, much to his superior's satisfaction.

With a gentle push and an exasperated sigh, the closet door slid open, Spitfire making little effort to conceal her snickering, much at the expense of the stallion and his blush-stained face across from her. Poor Soarin' looked like he had just lost a particularly cruel bet. The stallion did not know which was more humiliating: having to comb and dye his mane to look like Rainbow Dash or having to wear a skimpy french maid costume with the tightest panties known to ponykind.

Neither of them, actually. It was having been talked into this by his own captain and buck-buddy.

"Wow, you look cuter than I thought you would!" Tittered Spitfire, much to Soarin's expense.

"Sh-shut up!" He snapped, blushing brighter than a beetroot on a baboon's butt. "No self-respecting stallion should ever wear anything like this!"

"What about the stallions working the street in North Canterlot?" The captain's smug face did little to lighten the mood.

"My point exactly! I am Soarin', second-in-command of the Wonderbolts, pie connoisseur and all-around handsome stallion, should never have to dress as a mare, even if it was to fulfill his captain's obsessive fantasies."

"Of course you are, Soarin'." Said Spitfire, craning her neck to the right to try and get a better look at his plot. "But not tonight - because tonight, you're Rainbow Dash, my personal maid/wingpony/love slave. Besides, seeing those panties pressed against your cock and balls is really starting to make me moist..."

"But Spitz..."

The yellow mare had lost her patience, clearing her throat to make way for her more authoritative voice. "Rainbow Dash, I demand that you lick my vagina clean until you can see your reflection, double-time! Is that clear?!" She barked, making Soarin' fur jolt upwards.

Soarin' panicked, quickly clearing his own throat before using his best female voice, which did not sound all that feminine, really. "Err, Sir yes sir!" He squeaked.

"Good." Spitfire replied, spreading her hind legs apart to reveal her warm, damp sex. "Now get to work ASAP, or I'll have you licking toilets instead! Now move!!"

The stallion quickly dove his blunt-edged muzzle into her vagina, the sweet, spicy scent of her musk distracting him from the thought that Spitfire might have gone straight-up bonkers from her estrus. Her inner walls clenched onto his tongue like a vice for a split-second from the erotic shock of Soarin' having squeezed the front-end of his face into her vulva so abruptly.

Spitfire eeped. "G-good...Now get your tongue working double time, runt!"

Known by her teammates and peers to be a very sexually liberated (if not outright promiscuous) mare, Spitfire was almost always up for a good rutting, be it a quickie in the shower or a "team-building exercise" atop the highest cloud they could find. Ignorant ponies may dismiss her as a slut, but those in the know were aware that she was very well educated in the carnal arts and Equestrian sexual politics, knowing well the importance of sexual experimentation for long-term relationships. But there was one aspect of sexuality that was still an utter mystery for Spitfire - an erotic frontier that she knew little about:

Having sex in an actual relationship.

Ahh, is that all you got? Lick harder!

True, she was very close friends with her childhood friend Soarin', often kissing or sharing a bed, but they never did consider each other to be true soulmates. And even though she often found herself rubbing lips - both kinds, at that - with her friend and personal advisor Misty - who had been of great emotional support for the fire-maned mare for years, the two had yet to even think of each other as more than more-than-just-friends. Even role-play night was seen as not much more than a casual kind of thing, in spite of Fleetfoot's massive Daring Do fixation. Plus, she tended to get ropeburn fairly easily due to her sensitive skin, which resulted in more than a few cries of their safeword of choice.

Which was usually "ornithopter." Go figure.

Ohhh, annhh...err, I mean...Y-you call that oral s-sex?! Give me your best sh-shot!

So despite all those times of having the kind of mind-blowing sex most Ponies could only dream of, Spitfire was ultimately left unsatisfied, wondering how she could feel so...wanting...after exploring the countless angles, positions and dimensions that have defined the art of physical pleasure. It was so frustrating for her! How and why did she feel so strangely empty after continuously pushing the envelope of the most basic pleasure of all living things? Did she reach its very limit of potential? Or rather, the very limit of potential without crossing the threshold into outright deviance?

Surely, the ancient rite of sex was, as its sensations intended, more than simple perpetuation of the species and therefore, a practice that had some way of never getting old or tiresome to have etched its instructions into the instincts of every animal to have ever existed, right? Whatever it was, Spitfire knew she had to find out about it and fast - the pressure of being a Wonderbolt was one that could wear a Pegasus down to the bones.

There was a reason for them being such a small team after all...

There...That's...that's it, Rainbow D-dash, m-maybe now you can get to be the lead *eep!* wingpony...

Not long after the Best Young Flier Competition and seeing Rainbow Dash for the first time, something clicked inside of Spitfire's head; the answer she had sought for what seemed like a thousand years. It was something about Dash's unshakeable pride, cool head, powerful ambition and devilish looks that made the mare's heart throb and nethers moisten. It was the answer that was so mind-wrackingly elusive and yet so childishly simple - one that may or may not have stopped her from becoming little more than a tabloid star and a rehab boomerang...

...It was love. True love.

Y-you th-think that's...Ohh...That's what it takes to be a W-w-wonderbolt? I know y-you can do better than- Oh YES, just like that!

That very same kind of love that coined the term "love-making" in the first place. The kind of love that meant sharing a cheap dinner out by the wave breakers as the sun went down. The kind of love that meant reading comics together at the bookstore on a rainy night until closing time. The kind of love that meant devoting your life to something other than your own survival - to that very special somepony you shared every intimate moment with until both of your lives have reached their ends.

And even after that, those bonds would still last.

You can do it, Dash...Ahh...ahhh...I know you can! Make your captain proud! Annnhh!

That's what Spitfire needed all along - something to give that pleasure she felt during sex true substance; true meaning; true value to that timeless act. But Spitfire was not selfish like that, she wanted more than just an erotic additive, she wanted companionship; specifically one that involved a certain Rainbow-maned Pegasus that was just like her in almost every way possible. She was her biggest fan, always eager to prove herself to her idol and has already proven her love for Spitfire - a moment that made the Wonderbolt's heart and soul burn with such passion that it was hard to believe she hadn't returned the favor by tackling Rainbow Dash and giving her a mind-blowing kiss.

But that had to wait for now; She knew better not to rush things.

Faster! FASTER!

Creamy visions of the cyan mare triggered by that fateful night rippled through Spitfire's psyche like water yielding to a dropped stone. Their contents varied tremendously, but always had the consistent theme of the two doing very naughty things to each other. Things that you could never get away with in front of an audience.

Anhh... S-screw this roleplay crap, just eat me out already! Ahhh! Ohh!

Visions of her meeting the excited fangirl and giving her a special "backstage tour" of the showers, where she would teach Dash all the amazing tricks techniques that a Wonderbolt could do outside their shows, letting her tongue demonstrate so many unspeakable acts of ecstasy-inducing feats to send the mare's mind reeling in mind-shattering pleasure.

Oh, Rainbow Dash...ahh...I want you! I want your body, your taste, your heart! I love you so much, Rainbow Dash! Ahhh, Dash!!

Visions of finding Rainbow Dash pleading for mercy after having broken one of the Wonderbolt Mansion's rules, only to find herself bound in silk ropes and whipped with a riding crop by a bodice-wearing Spitfire. That was one she planned on keeping private, hoping Dash wasn't scared or turned off by a healthy bit of BDSM. She did have quite a thing for dominance and mild bondage, but this was often cut short by Soarin's emotional sensitivity, even though he wanted it in the first place as a way of overcoming those problems head-on.

Yesss! That's it! Keep at it! Keep going! Ahh!

And then there were the occasional visions of Spitfire pampering Rainbow Dash on a pillowy dais, constantly feeding her rich delicacies until her bulging belly spilled into her lap, which she would then massage with hot scented oils, repeating the process until she was too big to fly. That was one fantasy she would most definitely keep a secret, knowing well the pride Rainbow took in her athletic abilities and the importance of their careers as Wonderbolts. As much as she hated to admit it, Spitfire was a bit of a chubby chaser, her fetish originating from having to care for Soarin' after his occasional sleep-eating episode and the odd pastry binge. Massaging a pie-swollen gut was a sensation she quickly grew to like, but she could never say the same for his ensuing flatulence.

Annhhh!! I'm gonna...I'm gonna...I c-can't...h-hold on...m-much...

But fantasies were still fantasies - only good for dreaming about, or so Spitfire thought. But then again, she said the same thing years and years ago about becoming a Wonderbolt, so who knows? Maybe they would come true...

Rainbow Daaa-aaashhh!!

The captain laid outstretched on the bed, her dress uniform disheveled, her eyes wild and wide open, her chest rising high with each deep inhale and her nethers utterly drenched; as was Soarin's grinning face. She felt those familiar, crashing waves of pleasure course through her being as they slowly dissipated, savoring the sensation until it simply melted out of her mind. As great as it was, it was still not the same without the real Rainbow Dash to kiss, to hold and to love like a true soulmate could do.

"That...was great..." Spitfire breathed with a relaxed smile.

"Ditto..." Soarin' panted. "So can I finally take this crap off now?"

"Not yet, you still have to lick me clean, you dirty filly..." She chimed, killing the stallion's smile like a flying boulder to a helicopter.

"Fine..." He grumbled, diving his nose back into her sticky little lap.

As Soarin' proceeded with his tongue-based ministrations, Spitfire reached a hoof out to grasp a framed photo of her posing with Rainbow Dash at the fateful Grand Galloping Gala two years ago.

"It's only a matter of time until you're mine..." She wistfully said. "Heh. That even rhymed..." Tracing the tip of her hoof lustfully around Dash's face, the mare licked her lips with a look of almost primal hunger upon her face. Speaking of hunger, however, Spitfire felt a dense, empty void in the pit of her belly - snarling like a trapped beast out of an ancient myth. This haunting call that resonated throughout her body was a baleful reminder that it was still ten-o-clock and that she hadn't had breakfast yet.

"Okay, I'm clean enough, Soarin'." She said, repositioning herself off of her back, breaking off a thin strand of her juices from Soarin's lips. "It's time for breakfast."

Soarin's face lit up like a lightbulb. "Does this mean I can take this off?!"

"Yes, you can."

"Hot chocolate!!" He whinnied, wasting no time in galloping off to her closet and flinging his girly costume and girly underthings off of his body and straight out the door like it was radioactive. For him, it even felt like they were - unless they were on Spitfire, of course...

Feeling those telltale tremors from her stomach call out for her once again, the mare set the frame back down on her nightstand, rolled off her bed and awkwardly sauntered off into the kitchen for the usual fried eggs and hay sausages, her seasonal scent trailing her as she passed her bedroom's threshold.

I wonder what she's up to right now...

Rainbow Dash let out a tired sigh of relief after sealing the last box shut with yet another strip of tape. Falling backwards onto her bed and pressing herself into its plush linens, she took one last glance around her room to admire her handiwork before going back to sleep for another two hours. Everything in her house - posters, furniture, books and all - were all neatly packed into great heaps of randomly placed wooden crates and cardboard boxes of every size, their contents appropriately written on their sides in black marker.

"There...That's the very...last...one..." She huffed.

The Pegasus had been packing boxes non-stop all night long, having collapsed from exhaustion long ago were it not for Tank's help in carrying and hauling the much heavier items into their receptacles. Since her acceptance into the Wonderbolts some time ago, Rainbow knew it wouldn't be long before she would move in with them in their floating mansion outside of Cloudsdale, as was tradition for all members. The very thought of being able to actually with her heroes was almost too much for the fangirl to bear and with the knowledge that Spitfire had a crush on her and in heat, it felt like the universe itself could implode or explode on her at any given time.

Rainbow Dash's eyes were bloodshot - glazed with a subtle pink shade that matched her vibrant magenta pupils and feeling so dry, she might've thought they were made of stone had she not known better. Her nylon-like muscles pulsed with hot, heavy stabs of soreness and her bones felt like they were made of lead, joints feeling the creak of exhaustion. Her vibrant mane was frayed and ruffled like an abused paintbrush, colorful strands of hair shading her tired eyes like palm fronds. Resting a limp hoof on her forehead, which felt like it was filled with tumbling rocks, Rainbow Dash finally learned the lesson of procrastination the hard way, letting the rest of her body lie motionless on the bed like a stringless puppet.

"Phew...Maybe now, I can finally get some well...deserved..." Dash let out a toothy yawn. "...rest..."

Shut as her mountain-heavy eyelids closed shut, they were rudely pried open by the harsh blare of the moving van's car horn, prompting the sleep-deprived Dash to spring into the air with a startled yelp. Regaining her breath, Rainbow's eyes glazed over with exasperation, slogging her weary self over to the door.

"Oh for Pony's sake..."

Feeling the piercing light of the sun as she opened the door, she found herself staring eye-to-lazy-eye with a familiar grey Pegasus standing before her, clutching a clipboard and pen in her mouth.

"Mornin', Rainbow Dash!" Chimed Derpy, letting the two items flop out of her mouth and onto the wispy cloud below.

"Ugh...Morning, Derpy..." Rainbow responded, slowly picking up the clipboard and gripping the end of the pen with her teeth.

"Ooh, you don't look so good... Have you been eating enough vege-tuh-bulls?"

"Ah gueth..." Dash slurred, clumsily writing her signature on the bill before handing both items over to the cross-eyed mare.

Derpy scanned the receipt clamped onto the board before tucking it into her saddlebag in spite of the new Wonderbolt's hoofwriting, which was so sullied by her fatigue that it looked like the scratchings of a third-grade chicken. Scootaloo jokes aside, it was still legible enough for her boss to recognize, giving Derpy and her co-workers the okay to start loading the van, which was little more than a steampunk hybrid of a gypsy wagon and a mail truck, pulled by the cartoonishly large muscles of Big McLargeHooves himself.

Rainbow Dash lacked the patience and lucidity to even care about what was going on around her, wanting only to finally get some well-deserved sleep, dragging one hoof in front of the other as she made her way up the spiral staircase and into her bed. After what felt like a marathon of walking, Dash finally climbed her way back into bed, giving her sore joints and muscles the rest they so desperately needed. Tank, who was walking at the very same pace she was, crawled under the covers next to her, nuzzling her with a scaly cheek before withdrawing into his armored domain.

So incredibly tired she was, that Rainbow Dash failed to notice Derpy following her boss's orders a little too early, hauling the entire bed, along with all of the other boxes one-by-one, while her co-workers were too busy helping Crate solve a particularly difficult crossword puzzle to notice. Happily trapping the slumbering athlete and her pet Tortoise in a prison of cardboard, Derpy gave her workers the okay to proceed, hopping gingerly inside of the cab with her co-workers after an hour of hard work.

"Ugh...Who would've known the answer was 'Charlemagne?'" Said Crate, wiping the sweat off his brow before turning his attention to an exhausted Derpy that had just closed the door behind her. "Wow. You did all of that yourself, Derpy?" He asked.

"Yup!" Said Derpy, giving her supervisor a firm salute, giving him a grin of pure confidence. "All by myself!"

"Well, what's done is done, I suppose." Crate said, scratching his five-o-clock shadow. "You really impressed me today, Derpy - You deserve a raise!"

"Woohoo!" She cheered. "Ready to take off, Mr. McLargeHooves?"

"YEEEAAAUHH!!!"

"Let's go, folks!" Said an enthusiastic Cloud Kicker.

With a sudden jerk of momentum brought on by McLargeHooves' grossly enlarged muscles, the van took off towards Wonderbolt Manor, flying thousands of feet above Ponyville into the cloudy cluster of buildings called Cloudsdale. Derpy slouched in her seat fanning herself as she regained her breath, completely unaware that she had packed Rainbow Dash and Tank in the back of the van. The radio was turned up and the movers were bobbing their heads rhythmically to the virtuosos of famed folk guitarist Meadow Song, unable to hear poor Dash pounding on the walls of the van's interior, crying out for help...

...Mainly because she actually wasn't crying for help, let alone even aware of her current predicament; still held tightly in the clutches of a long-denied slumber, dreaming of that fire-haired Wonderbolt and the very, very naughty things she wanted to do to her. Fortunately, she'll be meeting her soon, anyways...

"Ah still don't see why Rainbow Dash had to move in with the other Wonderbolts at that fancy mansion they have up in Cloudsdale..." Said Applejack, pacing across the birch flooring, her tangerine form dwarfed by the cake's shadow towering over her. "I mean, it's right on the other side of Cloudsdale, so what's the point of haulin' every-dang-thing she owns over to that big flyin' house?"

The Mane Six - or Mane Five rather, if you excluded Spike - were all up and early at Sugarcube Corner doing their part to prepare themselves for the second initation party at the Wonderbolts Mansion tonight, which Soarin' so kindly arranged to make up for the first and originally only party, which ended on a sour note to say the least. Having gathered the party favors, dry cleaned the dresses and hired an airship to ferry them to the estate, all the mares had left to do was to kill some time before their ride came.

That, and leave Pinkie Pie to wrap up the finishing touches on the grotesquely huge cake for tonight's event...

"Well, because it's cool, duh!" Said Pinkie, standing high atop a ladder as she deftly emptied just the right amount of yellow frosting around the rim of the cake's top tier. The dessert was a heaping, five-layered ziggurat of spongecake, blue and yellow icing capped by a tiny aluminum figurine of Rainbow Dash in a Wonderbolts suit that she got from the local metallurgist. "I mean, if you're as cool and awesome and awesomely cool as one of the Wonderbolts on account of actually being one of the Wonderbolts, then what else to do but live with the Wonderbolts?! Everypony knows that about the Wonderbolts!"

"Ah know, stupid me..." AJ replied with a hint of sarcasm in her voice, swirling her eyes around and circling a hoof towards her head. "But seriously, why exactly does she have to live with 'em? Twilight, do you know?"

"It's for a lot of different reasons, actually." The bookworm replied. "One, it's for logistical purposes, so they can rely on the whole team being ready to go in case of an emergency or simply out of convenience. Two, it's to keep the team unified, organized and their bonds closely knit-together, since many Wonderbolts hail from all over Equestria. And three, as Pinkie said, it's just because it's cool - like the secret headquarters that so many superheroes on TV have."

"Ooh, which superhero?" Chimed Pinkie, perking up at the mention of superheroes. "Is it Batmare? What about Wonder Whinny? Ooh! Is it the Mysterious Mare-Do-Well? Although she really didn't have a secret base, since all five of us were the Mysterious Mare-Do-Well, after all! But imagine if we did give her one! Ooh! I love thinking of stuff like this! Will it have fancy ribbons? A sliding pole? Ooh, or even a--"

"Back to work, Pinkie." AJ said flatly.

"Oh..." She giggled. "Sorry 'bout that!"

Rarity lowered her copy of the Foal Free Press, taking notice of Applejack's rather surly disposition. "What in the world is eating you, Applejack?" She asked. "You've been acting rather...uncouth as of late. Is something wrong?"

AJ turned her head, avoiding eye contact with the fashionista. "Just..." She sighed. "...Just been thinking about things."

"If it's your heat that's bothering you, then why not buy one of those little..." She giggled, blushing a gentle peek. "...plot devices that they sell at Club Cadence in the back alleys of Saddle Street? Those have often helped me a lot on rainy days or when I have artist's block."

Spike, sitting against the wall by Twilight, was busy frantically taking notes on a scrap of parchment. "Note to self..." He muttered. "...Rainy days...Rarity's bedroom...artist's block..."

"Spike, what are you writing?" Asked Twilight, peering over his shoulder.

The dragon summoned an incandescent plume of green flame in one large, panicky yelp; singing his his claws and incinerating the paper. Everypony in the room took notice of the embarrassed purple apprentice.

"Eheheheh... Just a little bit of gas..." He chuckled sheepishly, scratching the back of his head before blowing on his burnt little digits.

Everypony's attention soon turned to the sound of a loud, mechanical hum that shook the rafters of Sugarcube Corner, like a helicopter crossed with an off-road motorcycle. Its bass and volume suggested the mass of an entire house slowly making its way to earth only several feet from the building, cutlery and teacups rattling like epileptic wind-chimes from its immense presence. At the very climax of its mechanical crescendo, it slowly sputtered to a halt, interrupted by the sharp hiss of steam and the sound of an opening metal door.

"Well, sounds like our airship has arrived, everypony." Said Rarity, walking over to the cake to help Twilight levitate the cake to its destination. "I'll help Twilight carry this colossal confection, while the rest of you make your way to the airship." Carefully levitating the huge dessert shielded by Twilight's magic for protection, Rarity proceeded towards the front door; its sugary mass weighing an absolute ton, even with magic.

"Will do, Rarity." Said Fluttershy, trotting over to the door with the others.

"Ah got the dressin's..." Said Applejack, carrying the plastic-wrapped Gala dresses, gripping them in her teeth by the coat hangers.

"And I'll help you two carry my beautiful cakey creation!" Declared Pinkie, promptly putting on her flashing-siren helmet and grabbing a couple florescent batons. Walking backwards ahead of the two Unicorns, gesturing them carefully towards the door with both glowing orange wands gripped firmly in her front hooves. "Come on! Easy now...Careful, careful... That's it!"

After a good, nerve-wracking five minutes of hauling the Wonderbolt cake into the airship - which looked like the copper-colored love-child of a whale, a submarine and a helicopter, Rarity nearly fainted on one of the plush leather seats inside.

"Phew...I am never doing heavy-lifting like that ever again!" Said the exhausted fashionista. "I can almost feel calluses growing on my horn!"

The dessert itself was still encapsulated in its magical bubble in the back of the cabin, safe and sound, while the others braced themselves in their seats as the gears and wires within the mechanized beast's innards began to whir and flicker to life again, squeezing a frightful squeak out of poor Fluttershy. The butter-colored Pegasus bunched herself up between the warm seat cushions and the cold walls of worn brass, shivering with fright from the motion and sound of the ancient craft. Twilight took this as a prime opportunity to comfort her friend, pressing herself close against Fluttershy's side and letting a gentle hoof massage her stomach.

As Spike and the Mane Five relaxed in the plush comfort of the airship, which was little more than a bunch of fancy furniture and carpeting stuffed inside an otherwise hollow cabin, Rainbow Dash was enjoying a little "plush comfort" of her own.

"Unh...Come on Soarin', this is the very last one! Anh!"

"Ah...I can't, Spitfire! I don't think I have any more left in me! Ahh!"

"Yes...you...can! Believe in yourself, Soarin'! Just turn it around a bit so it fits better!"

"Oof...I hope Rainbow Dash won't be mad at us for - Hnghh! - for ruining her junk!"

"Not if you - Ugh! - Twist it the right way!"

"I told you we should have lubed this thing! Ahh!"

Soarin' and Spitfire were busy trying to get Rainbow Dash's bed through the door to her new bedroom, seeing how the rest of the movers were too busy angrily chasing Derpy around outside for something she screwed up during the loading process. Having the last of Rainbow Dash's exercise equipment into her new room, all that the two Wonderbolts had to do now was to get the bed past the doorframe and into the right spot, made all the more difficult by an odd lump beneath the covers.

"Ah, there we go!" Grunted Spitfire, finally getting the bed through the door. "See, Soarin'? All you have to do is twist it the right way and it goes through!"

Carefully setting the bed down by the large oval window, the two Wonderbolts let out a heavy, exhausted sigh after having to unload every single item from the van. Sweating and panting like they had just completed a triathalon, Soarin' and Spitfire silently, solemnly swore to themselves that they would never unload anything from any van ever again for the rest of their lives.

Soarin' set the right side of the bed's legs gently onto the floor, giving his tired arms a break. "That sounds so wrong, Spitz..." He said between tired gasps for breath.

"Phew! Well, at least it's good exercise, right?" Spitfire said, wiping her brow. "And now we can finally relax..."

"You read my mind..." The navy-haired stallion repeated his female counterpart's gesture, soon noticing something amiss. "Shouldn't we do something about that weird lump under the covers? It's been there this whole time."

"It's probably just some extra luggage Derpy forgot to pack. You know how she is..."

"W-w-what if it's somepony's severed head?" Soarin' stuttered, overcome with speculation-induced anxiety. "Y-you know, like in that one movie? I had nightmares for a week!"

"Oh hush, silly..." Said Spitfire, as she crawled into bed for some well-deserved rest. "It was just a movie. Besides, I'm too tired to even worry about things like that." She yawned, exposing her pearly whites and pink tongue. "I just want to lay down in a nice, soft bed that smells like a hot young mare with a colorful mane of hair and feels like--"

Spitfire's entire thought process came to a dead stop when her back hoof brushed against something warm and fuzzy.

"What's wrong, Spitfire?" Soarin' asked, voice fraught with worry.

"I just felt something warm and hairy..."

"Aghh, it's somepony's head! I knew it!" Cried Soarin', trembling with pure fear.

Now having taken Soarin's paranoia seriously after his suggestion and the sensation she felt, Spitfire began to shiver, ice-cold tremors racing down her spine as she reluctantly lifted the covers and, to the surprise and shock of both parties...

...Tried her hardest to stifle her laughter.

"Wha...? Spitfire... Spitfire, why are you snickering?" Soarin' asked, perplexed. "What is so funny?"

"Look..." She said, pointing a hoof under the covers and grinning like a Cheshire Cat.

Soarin' carefully peered into the black depths of the comforter-made cave, soon finding himself unable to hold back a teary laugh of his own.

The suspicious lump in the bed turned out to be an utterly exhausted Rainbow Dash sprawled out on the mattress like a lazy dog, lost in a deep sleep next to Tank; motionless, save for the occasional twitch of the ear or limb, the tiny sounds of wind traveling through her nostrils and the gentle rise and fall of her belly with each breath.

Soarin' almost immediately burst out laughing before being shushed by Spitfire. "Oh-ho, man..." He laughed, voice quiet out of respect for the sleepy Pegasus. "She and Tank were in there this whole time?!"

Spitfire giggled girlishly. "She must be a really heavy sleeper, I guess! And she's apparently pretty good at holding onto things, too. I love a mare that can do that..." Her already sultry voice took on a more husky tone.

"Spitfire, you're not thinking of..."

"Relax, Soarin', I'm not that kind of filly, you know. Besides, I'm too tired to do that right now, even if I wanted to. Care to crawl into bed?" The Wonderbolt captain gestured the blue stallion into the space next to Dash.

"Yeah..." Soarin' yawned. "...I suppose. But what if she wakes up? How would she react then? I don't want to give her a heart attack..."

The golden mare yawned in returned. "She won't. Besides, just imagine the look on her face when she wakes up in bed with us!" She said, an impish grin adorning her face.

"That I'd like to see, so count me in!" Soarin' replied, carefully crawling into bed and making sure he didn't disturb Rainbow Dash. Then again, considering what was going on in the past hour as she slept, the gentle jab of his elbow wouldn't disturb her one bit.

Before long, the two Wonderbolts were fast asleep, sandwiching Rainbow Dash and Tank in her own bed. Just before she was completely smothered by the cloak of slumber, Spitfire opened her eyes to get one last glance at Rainbow; admiring the soft, gentile contours of her sleeping face.

"Soon, you'll be sleeping in my arms for the rest of our lives, little Dashie..."