What Goes up Has Got to Fall
The hot water pouring from the ornamented shower heads crashed down on the black ceramic floor tiles and draped the VIP showers in a dense veil of steam. Fleetfoot couldn't see the other mares, but she could hear them. Misty and Surprise were chatting away about which of Los Pegasus many clubs they should hit tonight, and High Winds was singing, or rather yelling the lyrics of the latest hit pop song in her creaky, out-of-tune voice.
Fleetfoot would have loved to join them. Although she's much too shy to actually contribute anything to the discussions, she loved to just be among them and enjoy the atmosphere. Yet she stood frozen in doorway between the changing room and steamy showers. Fleetfoot couldn't join them when she was there.
It was hard enough to be around her under ordinary circumstances, but in the showers with her coat damp from the water and her wet fiery mane clinging to her body... Fleetfot shuddered. There was just no way she could act properly around her. Thus she was left standing awkwardly in the doorway, fidgeting, and trying to summon the courage to go inside.
Fleetfoot's mind imagined a blue jumpsuit being slowly peeled of a lithe yellow body; a firm, round and absolutely beautiful flank shaking to free itself from the confines of the clingy material. While fantasizing about her captain, a voice came drifting through the steam, tearing Fleetfoot back to reality. It was a voice as sweet as honey, yet smokey; sultry without even trying.
Anypony know where Fleet is?” it asked. Receiving only shrugs and a shaking head, it called out stronger. “Fleetfoot! Come on filly, we ain't got all night!”
The captain's voice had a magnetic effect on the young pegasus, making her trot into the cloud of steam in search for its source. Once she got close enough, Spitfire's yellow coat became visible. Her graceful, athletic body was the definition of beauty. Countless hours spent in the skies had given her the toned, muscular, yet slim body all mares dreamed of. Her long, slim legs and perfectly proportioned wings were impossible not to admire, and those flanks. Those perfectly shaped, firm...
Hey, don't wear me down, filly. You've gotta let the fans stare some too,” Spitfire said, smiling. As always, her smile ended up sultry and sexy without any effort on the pegaus' part. Fleetfoot let out an embarrassed 'eep' and her blue face turned a deep crimson. Spitfire laughed at her reaction, the sound soft and melodic, like chimes in a spring breeze. “You're the cutest,” she mused.
“But really,” Spitfire continued. “Great show today. You really are the star they're making you out to be. I was royally impressed. If you keep this up, I'll have to start worrying about keepin' my job!”
The captain's praise would normally cause the young mare to melt away into a blushing, stuttering mess, but one of the words lingered on her mind.
Star...
The word rang oddly in Fleetfoot's ears. She didn't really like it, but it was what they called her. In just a few explosive months she had joined the Wonderbolts and shot straight to the top. She wasn't just their new recruit. No, she was their new star attraction.
It all started back in flight school. Every year you always had some students that were exceptionally strong fliers, and a few that got top marks in all theoretical subjects, but rarely did you get students that exhibited both traits. Fleetfoot was one of those students. She studied hard and aced all of her exams, no matter the subject.
She was also an amazing flier. The mare could preform tricks in the sky the flight teachers could only dream of, yet her incredible acrobatism wasn't the pegasus most outstanding trait. No, what made Fleetfoot truly stand out above the rest was her speed. She was fast. Every single speed-record on every single course Cloudsdale's Flight High School had belonged to Fleetfoot.
During her last year at the school, it wasn't uncommon to see the Wonderbolts' scouting agents, and sometimes even a Wonderbolt, watching her from the stands when she was practicing flying. A few times, the captain herself had showed up. Fleetfoot always grew nervous when these ponies were watching her, but when her crush and idol showed up, it was all she could do to keep the butterflies in her stomach from causing her to loose her cool.
To top it all of, she was astoundingly beautiful. Her coat was a pale arctic blue and her mane a marshmallow white. When she was a little filly it had been long and straight, but daily flying left her snow white mane in a permanently windswept state. It wasn't uncommon that a few loose strands fell down over her sparkling emerald eyes, the most striking feature of her cute face. Her small frame was well toned and slim, and her shapely flanks the wanton desire of most of her fellow students.
With everything going her way, Fleetfoot could easily have dominated the school's hierarchy, but the pegasus was so very shy. Her blush was never far away, and when embarrassed or the center of attention, her speech often trailed off to incoherently low volumes. It was very conflicting, being the mare she was attracted a lot of ponies, but her shyness kept her from making many friends. And a partner was not even on the radar. It didn't matter though, the Wonderbolt's captain occupied all those thoughts.
Between studies and flight practice, high school passed in a blur and graduation day had been upon her. Parents, siblings and grandparents massed to watch their prides graduate. Students and relatives alike grew excited when the news that three of the Wonderbolts, including the captain, were there to watch the graduation ceremony. Since it most likely had something to do with that one blue mare, the rumor that she was getting recruited spread like wildfire.
Fleetfoot knew that she would be made to hold a speech, and she had been steeling herself for weeks. When she realized that the Spitfire and two more Bolts were in the crowd, all her confidence slipped away and her speech became even more stutters and mumbles than usual.
Despite this the crowd clapped their hooves appreciatively, and when her speech was over the principal stepped up to the podium. After praising Fleetfoot some more, he informed the gleeful crowd of students and family that the Wonderbolts had an announcement to make. The three Bolts approached the stage, two of them stopping at the edge, and only the captain moved up to the podium. She winked at Fleetfoot before stepping up to the microphone.
“Fillies and gentlecolts,” Spitfire began. “I want to begin by saying how impressed I am by the young mares and stallions graduating today. This last year, I and several other ponies from the Wonderbolts organization have been here to observe a certain young mare, but it has been impossible not to notice all these fantastic young fliers. I have seen several ponies that I know will make a good run for Best Young Flier later this year. However, the young mare that piqued our interest hasn't disappointed. She has truly stood out above the rest.”
The yellow mare made an art brake before continuing. “This last year of Flight High School she has show athleticism, acrobatism and an incredible strength of flight. She has executed her routines with a precision few ponies can boast about, and she has preformed tricks that has left me gaping like a foal. Above all, she have done all this with switfness I don't think anypony, myself included, can match. I mean, she broke every record I set during my years here. And so, we in the Wonderbolts have decided that young Fleetfoot will be the perfect addition to our team!”
The crowd fell silent at her finishing comment, but slowly an excited buzz began to spread. Fleetfoot's face had drained of all color and now matched her snow white mane. Spitfire's flashed her trademark smile as she beckoned the petrified young mare over.
“As many of you know,” Spitfire continued, a little louder now to be heard over the growing buzz of countless fans, “we're a member short since Star Streak's departure. Normally, it's a pretty tedious process to find a new member, but since I'm the captain I've deiced to make it easy this time. The original reason for our interest in Fleetfoot was to see if she was good enough to get a scholarship for our academy, but after we found out Star was going to be a daddy, Fleet...”
The Bolt paused and turned to Fleetfoot. “Is it cool if I call you Fleet?”
“Uh... hgwaba? Fleetfoot said, still white as a sheet.
“Great. So yeah, after Star dropped the bomb, Fleet became a lot more interesting. And like I said before, she hasn't disappointed us. In fact, she's blown all our expectations away. That's why we're skipping every admission process we've ever had.” Spitfire turned to Fleetfoot, beaming. “So, Fleetfoot, what do you say about becoming a Wonderbolt?”
Dead silence fell over the courtyard they were situated in, and all eyes zoomed in on the young blue mare. Fleetfoot seemed to have grown even whiter somehow, and began to sway slightly. She kept her wide, staring eyes fixed at yellow mare and didn't say a word. Spitfire's smile grew strained. Yeah, I 'prolly should've eased into it. “Don't faint on me now, filly,” she pressed out through clenched teeth.
The words broke Fleetfoots' trance and reality came rushing back to her. Fleetfoot shook her head and refocused her eyes on the Bolts' captain. Spitfire had just asked her to join the Wonderbolts. Her idol and crush, the most amazing mare in all Eqeustria just asked her to join her fillyhood idols in front of the entire school. Oh yeah, the entire school is staring at her. And Spitfire too. And Soarin' and Surprise too. That's a lot of ponies staring.
Blood rushed to the young pegasus face and she went from white to flaming red in a matter of seconds. A million thoughts rushed through her head and she felt the panic begin to rise. No! I'm not panicking now. Not now. Fleetfoot took a deep breath and steeled herself. You only get one shot, one opportunity, to seize everything you ever wanted. One moment. I have to capture it. I won't let it slip.
Summoning courage she didn't know she possessed, the blue mare flipped her for for once brushed mane out of her eyes and flashed a very uncharacteristic smile full of forced confidence as she trotted over to the podium. As she drew a breath to answer the question, her gaze fell upon the expectant crowd. Thousands of eyes were staring at her. They were positively glowing with expectancy.
The weak dam Fleetfoot had erected around her panic burst, and a tsunami of horror, panic and uncertainty came rushing back to her, flooding her tiny island of confidence. “Of course,” she said lamely. Luckily, the crowd didn't allow things to get awkward. Fleetfoot's words set them on fire, and they were cheering and clapping wildly. The bragging rights that were just handed out were beyond anything.
After that, everything escalated at an unreal pace. Her athleticism and speed allowed her to pull off tricks that immediately turned her into a fan favorite. Her beauty and youthful innocence turned her into the media's new object of admiration. Paparazzi hung upon her every move, commercial and sponsorship deals rained over her and magazines offered unreal deals in order to outbid their competitors and ensure exclusive photo shoots. In less than half a year the young mare had become one of Equestria's most well known celebrities and earned more money than she could ever have dream of.
“Uh... Fleet?”
Spitfire's voice derailed her train of thoughts, and Fleetfoot looked back up, her blush returning as she remember what she'd been doing.
“Are you okay Fleetfoot? You seem a bit distracted.” Spitfire asked, arching a brow. “By something else than my flank, that is,” she added dryly.
“Nope. No, everything is just fine. I'm totally fine!” Fleetfoot said, doing her best to look anywhere but at her captain.
“Okay, whatever you say, filly. Anyways, you should probably start showering,” Spitfire said, pointing a yellow hoof at shower next to her. “The boys are probably already done, and you know how fidgety they get when we keep 'em waiting.”
“Right, of course,” Fleefoot said, forcing a smile. “ I was just doing, the uhm... thing. Okayshoweringnow!” She quickly trotted into stream of water next to Spitfire. The warm water soaked her already damp mane and coat. She closed her eyes and let the sensation of steaming water on her coat do what it could to sooth her self-annoyance.
Why? Why after all these months did she still act like such a foal around Spitfire? Why did just being close to yellow mare reduce her to this? And why couldn't she control her staring? Or at the very least, why didn't she get any better at peeping? Spitfire always seemed to notice every single time she tried to steal a quick glance.
For the umpteenth time tonight, Spitfire's sweet voice broke Fleetfoot out of her thinking. “Fleet, are you sure you're okay? You're the worst at hiding you feelings. Something's bothering you.”
Fleetfoot turned and looked at her captain. There was real concern in her brilliant orange eyes. The knowledge that the yellow mare she admired so actually cared about her caused the ever smoldering feelings in her chest to burst aflame. An involuntary smile crept across Fleetfoot's face.
“No really, I'm okay Spitfire. I promise,” she said, forcing all unpleasant feelings away. If only I could tell you how I really feel, it'd be a whole lot better though. “So where are we going tonight?”
Spitfire opened her mouth to answer but she was cut off by Surprise, the white pegaus exploding out of the steam. She stretched her front legs impossibly wide as she grabbed a hold both yellow and blue and smashed them together in a massive embrace. “We're heading to the Vanguard! DJ-Pon3 is playing there tonight!” Surprise let go of the two mares and trotted towards the door leading out to lockers, doing her best to emulate the wubs of the music awaiting them. After Surprise's hug, the two mares were left pressed against each other, a single stream of water pouring down over both of them.
“Uh... we're pretty close,” Fleetfoot remarked, stating the obvious.
“Bet you don't mind,” Spitfire replied smugly, causing the young pegaus' face to flush.
***
Los Pegasus was a city of stark contrasts. The main road from the stadium with its VIP-boxes and showers led to the city's main strip. It was a street filled with neon lights, exclusive stores and nightclubs. Not far from there loomed the tall hotel where the Wonderbolts were housed. It was far from the only hotel in the area, and they all did their best to be more extravagant than the rest.
However, you didn't have to stray very far from these luxurious quarters where the rich lived in excess to find littered streets, dilapidated buildings, and ponies in rags rummaging through garbage. Despite their actual proximity to the less fortunate, these ponies might as well have been on another planet as far as the Wonderbolts were concerned. However, a brown pegasus clad in tattered rags had managed to cross the border between the two worlds, and was now watching the long line waiting outside of the Vanguard, preying. After few minutes of surveying the ponies, he spotted his target; a young arctic blue pegasus mare, barely more than a filly, walking a bit behind the rest of her group.
“Hey man, I've got five kids to feed!” he announced as he popped up in front of Fleetfoot. “Think you could spare some bits?”
Taken aback by the sudden appearance of the pony and his closeness, Fleetfoot tried to back away from him. He tried to keep close to her, but before he could once again get uncomfortably close a large, pale, cornflower blue stallion stepped between them. “Wrong mare to creep on.” His simple announcement was accompanied by a menacing glare.
Under the stallion's glare the brown pegasus nodded and made a show of scampering away. However, as soon as the entourage began moving again, he once again cut Fleetfoot off from her teammates. “I've got four kids to feed!” He was uncomfortably close, and as Fleetfoot tried to once again back away from him, her retreat was halted by an object that decided to not be helpful and didn't yield. Fleetfoot could smell his rancid breath seeping through his crooked teeth as tried to sell his argument by smiling mere inches from her face.
Two blue hooves grabbed a hold of him and showed him away from her as Soarin' once again came to the mare's rescue. “I'm serious,” the stallion said as he reached into his pocket and grabbed a hooffull bits. He reached them out and offered them to the shabby pegasus. “But if you creep up to her one more time I'll buck you all the way to Cloudsdale.”
Feeling a bit bold with Soarin's protective frame between her and the beggar, she dared venture a question. “What happened to the fifth one?”
“Aw shit man, you got me. I ain't even married!” He gave another crooked smile before flapping his wings and flying away.
Fleetfoot blinked. Why did he call me 'man'? I'm pretty I have the bits that makes me a filly... Before she could delve any deeper into this question they had reached the entrance of the nightclub.
A large neon sign was flashing Vanguard in red letters, and the pounding bass of Equestria's most famed DJ could be heard all the way out there. A ridiculously large stallion in a black suit was guarding the door. If not for the pegasi's magic, there was no way his tiny wings could have allowed him to fly.
As the entourage crossed the last few yards leading up to the guard, the ponies at the front of the line called out to them. Most were fans, excited over the bragging rights that came with 'having clubbed' with the Wonderbolts. A few of the faces were glaring daggers though, annoyed that acrobats had just skipped the entire line they had standing in for over an hour.
The guard looked up at the group trotting towards him. He had been told to expect the Wonderoblts, and as he recognized their captain, he unhooked the rope and allowed them to walk in. All of them, except for Fleetfoot. When she tried to follow the rest of the group inside, he stepped in her way. She let out an 'eep' as she bumped into his massive chest.
“ID, please,” he said flatly. Taken back by the question Fleetfoot simply stared at him, mouth slightly agape. The guard sighed. “Iden-ti-fi-ca-tion, please.” He spoke slowly, they way you would speak to a foal when you wanted to make them understand.
“What's going on?” Spitfire asked. She came trotting back after she realized the young blue mare wasn't with them. “She's with us, featherbrain,” she said to the guard when she saw that he had stopped Fleetfoot.
“I know,” he said, turning to face the yellow mare. “But she's way too young to get in here.”
Spitfire rolled her eyes and Fleetfoot blushed. “Look,” she said, placing a yellow hoof on his chest. “What do you think your boss would say if I told him that you wouldn't let a Wonderbolt enter?”
He kept his flat stare fixed at the yellow mare a moment before shrugging and stepping out of the way. Fleetfoot hurried past him through the small the small foyer, joining up with Spitfire. As she stepped out on the platform hovering above the dance floor, she paused. The wall of sound assaulting her ears was like a physical blow. It was incredibly loud. At the far end of the dance floor was the DJ herself. Large purple glasses covered her eyes as she bobbed her head in time with the beat.
Said dance floor was packed full of ponies. So was the bar. It was almost comical the way the mares and stallions mimed and waved their hooves to try and make themselves understood. Realizing she had once again been left alone, Fleetfoot looked around for any of her team members. She found Spitfire to her right, beckoning her towards a semicircular booth.
The rest of the Bolts were seating themselves at the slightly secluded table. It was nicely positioned, half-hidden behind a wall that blocked out some of sound and made conversation possible. Fleetfoot ended up farthest in. Just as she was noting how comfortable the dark cushions were, Spitfire plopped down on her right. With her yellow body only inches away from Fleetfoot, the young mare's comfort zone was already breached. Then Surprise decided that she needed some more space and gave her captain a shove towards the left, mashing blue and yellow together for the second time that day.
The areas where their bodies connected felt hot enough to leave a burn, and the way the feathers on Spitfire's wing brushed against her own sent electric tingles through her body. Fleetfoot did her best to keep her breathing stable, but every time the yellow mare shifted even slightly, their feather brushed together and new tingles ran through her young body. Fleetfoot felt her wings slowly begin to stiffen. Panic began to rise alongside her wings. Nonononononononono!
Spitfire also felt the wing she was brushing against begin to stiffen, and after having ordered her buckardi and coke, she turned around to see a flushed Fleetfoot staring intently at the table. Giggling, she leaned over to whisper in her ear. “When the waitress is looking at you like that, she's expecting you to tell her what you want.”
Fleetfoot looked up and realized that all eyes were fixed on her, including the expectant waitress. “I'll have an... uh...” She did her best to remember which of all the drinks was the least awful, but it was no use, her mind drew a blank.
“She'll have a buckardi and coke too,” Spitfire said. The rest of the team ordered their drinks and the waitress trotted away to bring their order. She returned a moment later; the tray with their drinks delicately balanced on her back. The moment his translucent drink was placed in front of him, Wave Chill grabbed it with a hoof and hoisted it back, downing it in two gulps. He slammed the glass down into the table as he reached out for the waitress that had just turned away.
“Another one!” he said. “Actually, bring two.”
“Uh, Wave? You know we're 'sposed to up early tomorrow, right? We're leaving for Baltimare at ten. Signing autographs at the convention, remember?” Lightning Streak asked, his deep bass voice rolling out of his chest like thunder.
“Give me a break,” Wave Chill said before gulping down his second drink. Slamming the glass down, he shook his head and lifted the other one, downing it too. “I'm just getting warmed up. Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going to the bar. The Wave is going to score some sweet pussy!”
He hopped up with a big smile plastered on face, but it grew strained under the unimpressed glare of eleven pair of eyes. “What?” Wave asked. “You're just jealous of how incredibly awesome The Wave is.”
“Wave,” Soarin' said smiling at the other stallion. “I get more fillies than you, and I'm gay.”
“Nuh-uh. No way, Soarin'. I drown in pussy wherever I go, and I ain't even trying! I'll see you losers later,” he said turning away.
“Wait!” Surprise called out. She was thinking so hard her thoughts could almost be heard, and she was slowly leaning forward. Just as her muzzle made contact with the table she gave a mighty flap with her wings, propelling her up in air.
“I've got it!” she called out brightly, a small explosion of confetti exploding from behind her. “You're oscillating!” She pointed a her hoof at Wave Chill triumphantly. Everypony stared at her.
“What?” Wave asked with a confused expression.
“You're oscillating,” Surprise repeated. “I was thinking of the that word that begins with an o that describes you really well so I began think really hard and then I remember the word and you're oscillating!” She crossed her hooves across her chest and smiled proudly. Wave Chill just shook his head and trotted away towards the bar.
The white mare sat down again and turned around to see a pair of orange eyes glaring daggers at her. “What's wrong Spitty?” she chirped in her bright voice. It never occurred to her that the fact that her captain was covered in confetti might have been the cause of her agitation.
“First of all, the word you're thinking of is ostentatious, oscillating is something completely different. Secondly, how!?” Spitfire threw her hooves in the air exasperatedly. “How is it possible, Surprise? Where, where, did you keep the confetti? It's not supposed to be possible to do that unless you're a unicorn!”
“Oh Spitty,” Surprise giggled. “It's easy! You just...” Spitfire raised a hoof to silence her.
“I don't actually want to know,” she sighed, trying to shake the confetti from her mane. “Okay, before we do anything else tonight, who's dragging Wave out of bed in time for breakfast tomorrow?”
“I thought the hotel staff would wake us up?” Misty asked.
“Well, yeah, they're waking us up, but waking a hungover Wave Chill isn't easy. You need to kick him pretty good, and as your captain I'm naturally omitted from having to do this. So who's up for it?”
I'll do it,” Silver Lining said. “Tormenting Wave is always fun.”
“Good,” Spitfire said, taking a sip of her drink. Turning around, she saw Fleetfoot eying her drink incredulously. “Come on filly, don't tell me you ain't drinking buckardi and coke?” Throwing her captain a quick glance, Fleetfoot brought the drink to her lips and took a sip. “See? Told you it's good. You didn't even cringe this time.” Spitfire laughed softly. Continuing to giggle, she began shifting her wing, rubbing it against the young mare.
The rubbing and cute giggles sent shudders down Fleetfoot's spine, and she felt her wings begin to stiffen again. Desperately looking for a distraction, she lifted the rum to her face and took two deep gulps. As it turned out, gulping down alcohol was a brilliant distraction. Unused to alcohol as she was, the strong taste of gulping down the liquor in such a manner brought tears to the young mare's eyes and sent her into a coughing fit.
Recovering from her fit, Fleetfoot looked up and was greeted by Spitfire gorgeous face. Framed by her fiery mane, her brilliant orange eyes were shimmering. “You're too cute to be real, Fleet,” Spitfire said softly. Raising her voice a bit, she grabbed Fleetfoot's hoof and gave it a tug. “Come on, let's go dance.”
Fleetfoot felt her heart flutter. Dancing with Spitfire was the most amazing thing ever. It was even better than ogling her in the showers. Oh why am I so bad at dancing? I should have practiced more. But what does it matter? Last time went great, and I get to be close to Spitfire and...
“Fleet, when a mare asks you to dance, you're supposed to say “yes”. Now come one, DJ Pon-3 is playing, and I'm not going to miss a chance a to dance to her music.” Spitfire got up and began trotting towards to dance floor. Fleetfoot quickly fell in behind her, emerald eyes locked firmly at her captain's flanks.
“This has gone on for long enough now,” Soarin' said, his gaze following the two mares. “One hundred bits Spitfire bucks her silly tonight. They'll be a couple by breakfast.”
Misty turned around to face him. “Apart from all the trouble they would be in, Fleet is just way too shy. Spits is doing everything but asking her to bed, and she still hasn't picked up on it. I'll raise you one hundred and take it.” The two Wonderbolts shook hooves.
***
Fleetfoot sighed as she undid the buckles of her saddle before unceremoniously tossing it on the bed. She didn't really like it. It felt so clumsy and awkward, but Spitfire had liked it. She'd said she looked pretty in it. So maybe it wasn't all bad.
The small smile that graced her face as she thought of the yellow mare faded away as she looked around hotel room and let another heartfelt sigh slip past her lips. Like all five-star hotels, it tried its best to stand out in order to please their guests. Sadly, their attempts at doing so failed to instil any sort of pleasure in the young mare. Everything was either blank, black wood, brushed aluminum or glass. Sure, it looked pretty, but it was so sterile. It was cold and hard, not giving the slightest comfort. “Just like everything else,” Fleetfoot mumbled as she made her way out on the balcony.
Being the stars they were, the Wonderbolts always had the finest suites. Situated at the top of the tall skyscraper, the view from the balcony was breathtaking. The entire floating cloud city was beneath her, and the lively lights, like fireflies dancing in the distant, were a joy to watch. The beautiful view did nothing to soothe the pain in Fleetfoot's chest, and she clenched her emerald eyes shut as tears began to well.
“Fleet? Are you in there?” Spitfire's voice called out from behind her. “You really need to start locking your door, filly.” Spitfire’s hooves clopped lightly against that hardwood floor as she trotted towards the balcony. She was wearing her usual grin as she poked her head out the balcony door, but when she saw the teary eyed pegasus standing there, her face dropped and she sighed heavily.
Shaking her head, the yellow pegasus trotted up next to the other mare and gazed out at the city of Los Pegaus sprawling beneath them. “Look, Fleetfoot, we need to talk,” she said. “You've been really down lately. You've been acting so... subdued. It's really obvious something's bothering you, and I think you need to get this off your chest. I'm more than your captain. We're friends, you know that. So tell me what's bothering you.”
Friend.
The word felt like a knife being stabbed into Fleetfoot's heart. The tears were really close now. “Really, I'm okay. I... I promise. It's just been... uh... a lot...”
“Oh spare me the horseapples, Fleet,” Spitfire cut her off. She turned around to face the mare who looked anything but fine. “That might have worked with your gullible high school friends, but not with me. I care about you Fleet, I really do. I thought this was obvious. It really matters to me that you're not feeling well, so please tell me what's wrong.”
The brilliant orange eyes began tearing down her feeble defenses, and Fleetfoot felt everything rushing to the surface. No no no. I'm not going to cry, I'm not going tell her what a worthless pony I am, I'm not going tell her I love her, I'm really not going to tell her I love... “I love you Spitfire!” she shouted as she threw her arms around Spitfire's neck and began bawling into her mane.
Spitfire blinked a couple of times. “Boy, that escalated quickly,” she muttered under her breath. The young mare was really crying her eyes out, and Spitfire thought it best to let her cry herself dry.
It took a few minutes of bawling like a foal before Fleetfoot came to her senses and realized what she had said and what she was doing. She just called out 'I love you' and now she's crying into her mane. She was about to back away and start apologizing when she realized something. Spitfire hadn't pushed her away. She wasn't appalled by her outburst. She just held her, gently stroking her white mane.
Maybe...
Fleetfoot pushed away from her captain. Her teary eyes, full of pain, were met by by smiling orange eyes, full of warmth and bearing the silent promise that she'd listen. A yellow hoof gently brushed the tears from her eyes. “So I'm guessing something's wrong then?” Spitfire said, her voice as soft as a kiss.
The young blue mare was past the point of no return. She would tell Spitfire everything, even if she'd end up hating her. Fleetfoot drew a ragged breath. “I'm what's wrong, Spitfire. I'm so sorry I'm not the pony you thought I was going to be...” She turned away from Spitfire and gazed out into Luna's star filled night sky. She hadn't pushed her away.
Maybe...
“Back at my graduation, when you told me I was such a good flier you'd let me join my fillyhood heroes, I was so excited I didn't know what to do. It was a dream come true. I mean, the Wonderbolts! I just thought that... I...” the young mare exhaled heavily and slumped, looking down. “I thought it would just be flying with the team. Flying with you... But everything went out of hoof so quickly. I... I don't know what happened. All of a sudden, everypony starts saying I'm among the best ever. I'm not! I try, but I can't do all the things they expect of me. And everypony expects so much! The fans, the media, even you guys. You all expect me to deliver perfect results, day in and day out, without a single miss. I'm not the best. I'm not even that good, and you all expect me to do so much. The pressure is killing me. What if I fail? What if I mess up? What will everypony think of me then? What will you think of me?”
She did her best to wipe away the tears that began trickling down her face again, leaving fresh damp trails in her blue coat. Sobbing, she continued. “And then there's all this attention. I'm so shy and awkward, Spitfire. I can barely talk to ponies I don't know, and now all these ponies hang upon my every move. Wherever I go, there's cameras flashing and ponies documenting what I do, what I eat and who I talk to! They're everywhere, and I have to go to interviews, and all these stupid photo shoots and commercial recordings. I don't know how to act! I don't know what to do. And all these magazines that keep trying to get saucy images. Did you know Playcolt seriously wanted me to show... well, everything? But I don't know... I just don't know. I'm so ugly, stupid, worthless, awkward...”
“Hey, hey, enough hating yourself,” Spitfire cut in as the blue pegasus began sobbing again. “You know what Fleet?” she asked, pulling the young mare into another hug, sighing. “You are stupid. Do you know why you're here? Because I begged, I begged Calamity and the owners to put you on the team. They totally didn't want it. Said you were too young, wouldn't be able to handle the pressure. I talked them into it though. Told 'em I'd take care of you. It took a lot of convincing, but the things you can do in the air... there's a reason everypony loves you as much as they do, Fleet. Give it a few years, and you'll really be the best. Nopony I know can match your speed. So why, Celestia damn you, haven't you talked to me? If I knew you were this down, I would've done something.”
Fleetfoot sniffed and wiped away tears with the back of her hoof. She felt so safe in Spitfire's embrace, her voice slowly draining away her misery. “From here on,” Spitfire went on, “we do things together, OK? I'll help ya'. Until you get the hang of things, I'll go with you to anything that makes you feel uncomfortable. You just promise you'll talk to if something's bothering you, OK?”
“Anything?” Fleetfoot asked.
“Anything.”
A weight was lifted off Fleetfoot's shoulders. With Spitfire by her side, everything would be easier, she was sure of it. “But I'm not that good of a flier.”
“Yes. Yes you are,” Spitfire said, giving her a light clop on the head. “Mare up, filly. You need to get some confidence. You are great, why do you think I brought you on the team? You're a great flier, and a great pony too. You're really kind, Fleet. You always manage to broker peace when we fight. Before you, we'd be pissed at each other for days. And what is this I hear about you calling yourself ugly? Like, really? Have you ever looked in a mirror? You're beautiful! You're drop dead gorgeous. Of course all the magazines are chasing after you; anything with you sells like hot cakes!"
Tears forgotten, the trademark blush made its triumphant return to the arctic blue cheeks. She's holding me. She said I'm beautiful. Gorgeous. Could she... maybe. “Do you... do you really think that? And you don't think I'm weird for... uhm...li-liking you?” she finished, her throat closing up. Spitfire giggled and facehoofed. “Oh my... Fleetfoot, I was just joking when I said you're stupid, but by Celestia's wings, you're one socially awkward filly. You don't think I've noticed? How old do you think I am? You seriously don't think I've noticed your staring, the fumbling when I'm near you and the fierce blushing and stuttering whenever I say something even remotely suggestive?”
“I... I...” Fleetfoot stammered.
“Let me tell you something Fleet. The reason I tease you the way I do is because I like you. You're the cutest thing ever. And asking somepony to dance, and buying them drinks like I've been doing? The most recent time being less than two hours ago? That's called hitting on somepony. Making a move. Usually works a bit better than just staring.” As she talked, Spitfire felt a pang of guilt gripping her heart.
“And I... I guess I'm sorry,” she continued, rubbing her neck with a hoof, her smile faltering. “Everypony knows you like me, and you're not the most subtle of ponies, but I though it was only a crush. You know they don't allow inter-team relationships, and the paparazzi would eat me alive if they found out I was in a relationship with our youngest member. You know the shit we'd get to hear 'bout me bringing you on the team just to do you. I just thought I'd keep being really obvious about being interested in you too, and wait until you finally made a move. Take it from there, y'know. I never realized you felt so strongly.“
Every word that left those yellow lips caused Fleetfoot's mind to work even faster. It was simultaneously trying to process the fact that Spitfire liked her, trying to think of a proper response and, tried thinking back at every single moment spent with her captain to see what she had missed. Failing miserably, her brain activated its afterburners in an attempt to reactivate the ability of speech in order facilitate a response.
“Oh...oh but I do! You're the most amazing mare I know! You're so beautiful, and so awesome. You always know what to say, what to do and how to act. You never lose your cool. You're the best flier in Equestria, you have really awesome flanks, beautiful eyes and did I mention that you're beautiful? Even though I've never dared to ask, you've still managed to help me, and you just promised you'd be there for me, and you said you like me, and you're beautiful.” Fleetfoot hungrily gulped down air so that she could continue.
As she opened her mouth to continue gushing out her admiration, her brain short circuited. Everything went blank. The only thing she could register was the beautiful yellow face in front of her, those smiling orange eyes and those soft lips.
Fleetfoot leaned in and kissed Spitfire. It was appropriately awkward for a first kiss. Emerald eyes screwed shut and lips mashed together. Awkward as it was, it was full of honest feelings. Fleetfoot pulled back, her green eyes full of confusion, love and want.
Spitfire had already made her decision, everypony else be damned. “That's not how you do it, silly.” She pulled the tense blue mare close, her brilliant orange eyes fluttering close as their lips met softly. Fleetfoot practically melted in her embrace as their tongues met.
Spitfire broke the kiss and pulled back. “Now that's how you do it.” Her orange eyes were sultry as she flashed her usual smile. “Let's give this a shot.”
***
“Miss Spitfire? Miss Spitfire?” The intrusive female voice cut through Spitfire's sleep, and she pressed her head hard against the pillow in an attempt to will who ever was bothering her away. “Miss Spitfire?” the voice asked again.
“What?” Spitfire grumbled, cracking an eye open. All she saw was white mane. Suddenly she became aware of the warm feeling of a body pressed against her, and the smell of sex that permeated the air.
“You had requested waking at seven. Since you weren't I your room I though I'd ask Miss Fleetfoot, who had requested waking at seven as well, if she knew of your whereabouts. I see I won't have to go looking for you. Anyhow, your manger wishes I remind you that you're expected down for breakfast by seven-thirty. I am also to inform you that a Mister Padlock will be joinging you for breakfast and that you will leave for Baltimare at ten.”
The small frame Spitfire was spooning shifted and mumbled cutely. “Be professional now. This really isn't what it looks like,” Spitfire said. “We haven't done anything.”
The mare raised her muzzle and sniffed the air pointedly. Without a word, she turned around and totted for the door donning a devilish grin.
“What's going on? Do we have to wake up now?” Fleetfoot asked drowsily as the door closed behind the valet. “Can't we sleep for five more minutes?” she begged as she rolled over to face her lover.
Spitfire gazed into the shimmering emerald eyes looking at her. I'm so fucked.
As she gazed into her love's eyes, memories of the night's activities came rushing back to Fleetfoot. She blushed fiercely as she thought of the things they had done, but for the first time ever, she didn't avert her gaze. She kept looking into those loving, smiling eyes. A warmth spread throughout her young body, and she felt joy like never before. Spitfire loved her. Her grin went stratospheric. It was almost too good to be true.
A nagging feeling of doubt began clawing at her happiness. What if it was too good? Her grin faltered and her eyes flickered down before looking back up. “Spitfire, what we did last night, what you said, did... did you really mean all of it? Are we...” the last word caught in throat.
“Fillyfriends?” Spitfire said. “Yeah, something like that.” The words brushed away the last of Fleetfoot's doubts, and the butterflies in the young mare's stomach made somersaults. She buried her face in her new fillyfreind's neck and sighed contentedly. “I love you, Spitfire.”
Spitfire smiled and opened her mouth to return the words, but stopped herself as a devious grin began to creep across her face. She leaned in towards Fleetfoot and traced her tongue along the edge of her blue ear, causing the young mare to shudder. “You wanna hear me say it?” she whispered in a sultry tone. “Come on then,” the yellow mare said, hopping out of bed and trotting towards the shower, swaying her hips suggestively.
After showering, the two mares trotted down to the hotel's dining area. Just like the rooms, it lacked any kind of warmth. Everything was black wood or glass mounted on steel frames. Most of the team was already seated at the long rectangular glass table. There was not a stitch of fabric on the polished glass.
As Spitfire and Fleetfoot took seat next to each other, Soarin' looked up. “Morning, fillies. Looking good today, Spitts.” he said.
“Thanks, Soarin',” Spitfire said. At her response Soarin' turned towards Misty with a smug grin.
“Aw come on!” the light yellow mare called out.
“What's wrong?” Spitfire asked, raising an eyebrow.
“What's wrong?” Misty said. “What's wrong is that I just lost two hundred bits.”
“Hey Misty!” High Winds called out as she came trotting into the room together with Silver, who was bodily dragging Wave Chill after him. “You lost. I saw the hotel-valet coming out of Fleet's room cackling like a cockatrice.”
“I know...” Misty grumbled, slumping over the table.
“The hay is going on?” Spitfire demanded.
“Misty lost the bet,” Surprise piped up.
“What bet?”
“Last night at the club Soarin' said one hundred bits you would do it with Fleety tonight and that you would be a couple by breakfast and Misty said that you'd be in way too much trouble for it and that Fleety is too shy and not picking up on your hints so she raised him one hundred bits and then they shook hooves on it and now Misty lost the bet so she's a grumpy pony,” Surprise said in a single breath.
“Oh yeah? And what if told you all that nothing happened?” Spitfire said, turning back to Misty.
“Really now? Apart from a cackling valet and Sir Blush-A-Lot there,” Misty said pointing a hoof towards a beet red Fleetfoot who was doing her best to sink through the floor. “You're a monster in the morning, Spitts. It's impossible to be around you before nine. Soarin' complimented you, Spitfire. On any other morning you would've screamed at him and bucked him through a wall. The only time you're ever pleasant in the morning is when you've gotten laid, and the fact that you've not killed me yet just lost me two hundred bits.”
Spitfire opened her mouth to protest, but just shrugged instead and extended a wing, wrapping it around Fleetfoot. “I'll make you two suffer for betting on me next practice. Nothing can screw up this morning for me.”
“Spitfire, not because I want to be the one to bring you down,” Rapidfire said, “but do you realize that by tomorrow every single paper will be all over you two, right? They're buzzing enough about her going to nightclubs and such, and they'll go bananas when they figure this one out. Because if I remember correctly, Fleetfoot, you're not legal yet, are you?”
Spitfire felt her heart drop. She turned her head around the see her lover donning an apologetic smile and rubbing her hoof along her leg. “Fleet, you've graduated high school. Please tell me you're old enough that parents can't get me into jail if they find out.”
“Ah... actually, it's about three months left,” the blue mare answered. “But don't worry about my parents, they would never do such a thing,” she added hurriedly.
“Oh sweet Celestia, I'm even dumber than I thought,” Spitfire moaned as she banged her head against the table.
“Don't worry none 'bout it Captain, I'm sure you'll find a good way to deal with this too,” Calamity, the Wonderbolts' manger, said as he came trotting into the room smiling. Next to him trotted an old, fat beige pegasus with a padlock on his flanks.
“Team, welcome Mister Padlock. He has some very exiting news for you,” Calamity said as the two ponies took their seats. Everypony was now at the table and the staff began serving breakfast. “Now,” their manger said as he bit into his sandwich. “Mister Padlock here is the CEO of Wings Unlimited, one of our biggest sponsors. Their support is invaluable to our organization.” He threw a glance towards the old stallion, but he seemed entirely engrossed in his fried eggs.
“Anyways,” Calamity continued. “He has pulled some strings and has assured that our upcoming show in Manehattan will be our biggest show ever. There were talks about extending the C, D, E and F sections increasing the arena's capacity to two hundred thousand. These extensions will be finalized tomorrow. But that's nothing, my little ponies,” Calamity said, his grin splitting his face.
“The princess is being visited by the king of Saddle Arabia and his wife this weekend, and after hearing about a certain little surprise, the king was very urgent about going to see the show. Right there, we scored the princess and the rulers Saddle Arabia. Of course, since Princess Celestia is going, we had to send an invitation to our beloved Princess Luna too. Because why the hay not, we also sent out invites to Princess Cadenza and Prince Armor of the Crystal Empire. Since we we're on a roll, an invite went out to Prince Blueblood as well. Everypony was very excited to see the spectacular surprise we have planned, and just last night we got word back every invitation has been accepted. Princess Celestia also invited the Elements of Harmony. Finally, the show will be filmed in its entirety. My dear Wonderbolts, this will be without a doubt be our biggest show ever.”
The Wonderbolts began murmuring among themselves at the mention of all the royalties. Lightning was the first one to speak up, his voice rolling over the murmur like thunder. “You said you promised them surprise. What is it?”
“A sonic rainboom!” Calamity declared, slamming his hooves together. Dead silence fell over the room. The only audible noise was Mister Padlock's chewing. He seemed completely unaware of the change of mood.
“What are you all looking so terrified for?” their manager asked, splaying his front legs wide. “It's only natural. We claim to have the fastest flier in Equestria, and since one of the Elements apparently can do it, we need to prove that we still have the fastest flier. And just think about it, a sonic rainboom over Manehattan? It will be the event of the year!”
Spitfire felt Fleetfoot grow stiff under her wing, and she felt her own dread beginning to rise. “Cal,” she said in a quite, uncharacteristic voice. “You do know the Manehattan show is in two days right?”
“Y-yeah. Are you sure you can pull of a sonic rainboom, Fleet?” At Misty's words, all eyes turned towards Fleetfoot. The young mare was still trying to process what had been said. Hundreds of thousands of ponies would be there, royalty from all over would come, and she was expected to do something she had never even tried? Something that was supposed to nigh impossible. She felt cold sweat beginning to trickle down her blue coat as she pressed herself into Spitfire, trying to disappear under the yellow wing.
“You can't be fucking serious, Cal,” Spitfire said, squeezing her terrified fillyfriend close with her wing.
“Of course I'm fucking serious, Captain. If a shy filly fresh out high school could get the captain of the Wonderbolts into bed, then I'm pretty confident in that you can teach the fastest flier in Equestria how to do a sonic rainboom, Captain. Anyways, it's seems Mister Padlock has finished his breakfast. I'll walk to his sky carriage.” The two stallions got up walked towards the door. As a valet held the door open for the, the beige pegasus turned around and spoke his only words of the morning. “There's a lot at stake for me in this show. Don't fuck it up.”
The Wonderbolts sat in silence, too shocked to speak. “Well, fuck,” Misty said, breaking the silence. “What the hay do we do now?” Nopony had any answer to give. “Horseapples,” she muttered, staring intently at her rose and tulip sandwich.
“Hey Fleet, are you okay?” Blaze asked, poking at the blue mass hiding under her sisters wing. Fleefoot looked up from Spitfire's mane. Her face was completely drained of its color, and her eyes were hollow. The day had started out like the best day ever. During one amazing night Spitfire had banished all her troubles and worries to the moon. Now, dread was once again gripping her heart with a cold, clawed hand. She slowly looked around at her teammates. “I can't do it,” she said, her voice barely audible.
Spitfire opened her mouth to reassure her young lover, but she was interrupted by a massive crash. The sleeping Wave Chill had fallen of his chair and crashed to the floor, dragging plate and cutlery down with him. He woke up when his head hit the floor, and with a flap of his wings he placed himself back on his hooves.
“It's nothing guys, I was just powernapping!” Wave's voice rang out loudly in the quite dining hall. His bloodshot eyes fell on his downtrodden teammates. “The hay did I miss?”
Spitfire reached her arms around Fleetfoot and hugged her close. “We'll figure something out.”
***
The two days leading up to the show passed all too quickly. It took a lot of encouraging from Spitfire to keep Fleetfoot from breaking down. The news had spread like wildfire and everypony in Eqeustria and their pet knew what was going down in Manehattan. Fleetfoot was everywhere, and the expectations on the mare dubbed Equestria's fastest had never been bigger.
Both nights had been spent trying to figure out how to actually preform a sonic rainboom. Fleetfoot was truly trying her hardest, but no matter what techniques they tried and no matter what Spitfire said, it just didn't happen. She was so close, the cone would form and angles sharpen to the point where it looked like the cone would crush her, but the young mare never managed to break through it. Right when it looked like she would brake through it, her velocity would be reduced to nothing in the matter of seconds, and the cone would rebound, tossing her across the sky.
Spitfire shot after her like a bullet, and the first time she caught her falling fillyfriend it was pretty romantic in its own kind of way, but after the cone had rebounded enough times Fleetfoot's young blue boody had grown bruised and sore. After several failed attempts the night before the big show, Spitfire played her last card. She said that field practice was over and brought Fleetfoot back to the hotel they were staying at.
As a depressed Fleetfoot was heading towards the bed, Spitfire stepped up behind her and gave her rump a hard shove, sending the young mare crashing into the bed. Spitfire climbed on top of her, pinning her blue lover to keep her from moving.
“Listen closely now, Fleet,” Spitfire said. “You're nervous, and you're having doubts. These things are afflicting your flying. Tonight, we forget all about rainbooms, royalty and stupid expectations, okay? Tonight I'm going to buck you silly, and tomorrow you'll preform the show just like you've done tons of times before. Then, when the finale comes, you're not going to think about anything but me, you hear me? Just think of me, and do it for me, Fleet. You are the fastest there is, and I know that you can do it. I know that you can do it for me. And after you've bathed Manehattan in rainbow, I'll show you how to party. A heads up, it includes a lot of alcohol, sloppy making out in front of cameras and sex. So let's forget about for now, okay?”
Fleetfoot drew a deep breath and relaxed. Everything would work itself out.
***
The Manehattan Arena was a massive concrete monster. Dominating lower Manehattan, the arena was a noticeable presence even when empty. Packed full with two hundred thousand screaming fans and flashing spotlights, the thundering noise from the arena could be heard many blocks away.
As Fleetfoot watched Blaze and Fire draw rings of fire in the sky, and Spitfire cut through them with an incredibly display of control, doubt began to seep to the surface.
Blaze and Fire shot up in sky and began flying in a circle, tightening their flightpath with each turn. Soon, they had created a large fireball above the stadium. After cutting through the last rings of fire and making a pass close to the crowd to show that not a single hair had been singed, the captain shot off towards the fireball. Just before she would crash into it, Spitfire spun around and delivered a powerful buck to the center of the ball. It exploded in a massive ring of fire that spread out across the arena. That was Fleetfoot's queue, while the crowd was blinded by the heat and light she shot of into the sky.
Higher and higher she flew, past the clouds up to heights few pegasi ever ventured. It was cold up here. Freezing cold, and Fleetfoot's breath crystallized with every breath. The air was thin, almost devoid of oxygen. Earth ponies and unicorns would freeze to death and suffocate up here if not protected by spells. It was the pegasi's inherent magic that allowed them to survive at such altitudes, but even so, Fleetfoot was growing uncomfortable.
When she looked down, she could barely make out Manehattan as a small speck of light between the clouds. Drawing a deep breath, the young mare thought of the one thing that mattered the most her. With her mind full of yellow, Fleetfoot doubled in on herself and shot of towards the ground at a speed few pegasi would ever experience.
It didn't take long before the cone started to form around her small body, and the pressure was already growing painful. She angled one of her wings and pulled into an aileron roll. The cone offered some resistance, but began twisting behind her. They had no idea what would actually happen if she pulled it off while in a roll, but it was sure to be spectacular.
Fleetfoot was quickly reaching her maximum speed. The pressure being exerted on her body was immense, yet the young mare forced herself to go faster. The cone was beginning to close around her and she was so close. Just a tiny increase in speed and she would be through. She could make out the crowd in the arena now. They were all looking towards the sky, waving and shouting excitedly. Fleetfoot closed her eyes and focused on her fillyfriend. For her, she could do it. The young mare, dubbed the fastest flier in Equestria, tapped into her final power reserves and gave it her all.
It wasn't enough.
In less than two seconds she came to a complete halt, only half a mile above the arena. For a dreadful moment she hung suspended in the air. Her blue lips parted to scream, but there was no time. The cone rebounded with a massive force. Fleetfoot could feel her left shoulder being dislocated and her ribs snapping like dry twigs when the cone struck her chest and launched her out over Manehattan.
Complete silence fell over the two hundred thousand ponies watching her fail. It took a second before the cameras stopped snapping, and thousands of hooves were still pointing skywards. The silence didn't last long. Blaze and Fire Streak shot off towards the left side of the field; fiery trails singing the spectators' manes. Misty Fly and High Winds shot of towards the the right spraying their part of the crowd with their trails of vapor. The rest of the team, minus their captain, flew towards the center of the arena to complete the secondary finale they had prepared in case Fleetfoot would fail.
Also placed on standby in case of an eventual failure was a team of pegasi meant to catch her. They shot of in the direction Fleetfoot had been launched, but were quickly passed by a fiery bullet driven by panic.
On the other end of the universe, Fleetfoot had reached the apex of her trajectory and began to fall towards the ground. Falling like this hurt infinitely more than any physical wounds could ever do.
When a pegasus fell, it meant that they had failed the most fundamental part of their nature. Flying was something you often figured out before both walk and speech, and ever since you flapped your wings and flew for the first time, it's been with you every day. It had a meaning earth ponies and unicorns could never understand.
It was the ultimate humiliation, and the worst possible end you could meet. Failing something every pegasus ever was able to do. Even worse than all of this, Fleetfoot had failed Spitfire. She had failed the one pony that truly believed in her. Fleetfoot had made the silent promise to her love that she would do this. Yet, she failed.
The last thought that crossed Fleetfoot's mind was that she deserved this. For having failed Spitfire, she deserved to fall like the failure she was.
***
The bright morning sunlight stabbed painfully through Fleetfoot's eyelids as she woke up. Blinking, she became aware of the her surroundings. The white walls and sterile curtains, the needle in her leg and the beeping of the heart monitor.
She ached all over. Her left leg was in a sling, and bandages covered her chest. Fleetfoot turned her head to see Spitfire sleeping in a chair next to her bed. On the floor next to her lay the Manehattan Times.
Fleetfoot fails sonic rainboom in front of Princess Celestia and a sold out Manehattan Arena
Fleetfoot clenched her emerald eyes shut as tears began to pour down her face. She felt Spitfire's hooves gingerly wrapping around her, trying to embrace her without hurting her. It didn't matter though. She didn't deserve Spitfire's love. She had failed.
“Fleet, what did I promise you back in Los Pegasus?” Spitfire said softly. “I said I'd help you with anything, and I meant it. This one is going to suck, that much I can tell you right now. But we'll work through it together. We're fillyfriends, remember?
Fleetfoot pushed the yellow mare away. “I failed, Spitfire. All of Equestria was watching, and I failed. You trusted me, and I failed you. Please go. I don't deserve you.”
“Are you braking up with me?” Spitfire asked with the hint of a smile.
“What?” No, but...”
“Good. Then we'll do this together.”
