Giving up. Defeat. Second place. 'I tried'. Those ARE NOT OPTIONS! How could you ever settle for something other than the best? You are now a Wonderbolt! You don't do those things anymore. You don't even know such words exist. From now on they will be replaced with never stop, victory, first place, and 'I did'.

The road to victory is hard. My job is to make your time spent with us even harder than winning, so that winning becomes easy for you. And make no mistake -- you will hurt, you will cry, you will bleed. And that is good, because when you win, all hurt will be moved aside, the tears will be of joy, and the sacrifice will be worth it all. Welcome to the team, and get ready to train like you never have before in your life.

-Speech excerpt from Spitfire, Captain of the Wonderbolts

Spitfire let out an exhausted sigh as the cool air rushed over her body, relieving the staleness of spending all evening in the office. Being team captain was glory, honor, distinction...and a whole lot of paperwork. Filing entry forms and fees, reserving hotel space, dealing with payroll, running the academy, potential recruits, managing advertising deals, and the list just went on. Today’s to-do list had one special item at the bottom: apologize to team fitness coach for physical assault.

Rainbow Dash may have become one of the best mares on her team after only two weeks in training, but that was no good reason to hoof Shadow in the face. He only worked sixty or seventy days out of the year, but a professional aerial trainer would charge tens of thousands bits for a few weeks work, which Shadow did for a lot less. He’d taken the first pay offer she'd made without any haggling. Not only was this saving Spitfire gold, but he flatly refused to take any raises, saying something about how how he was honored to be working with the ‘bolts when Spitfire tried to press a check into his hooves. She shook her head as Cloudsdale passed below.

Against the setting sun, Spitfire was the queen of a sky as yellow and orange as her tired features. If only the admin work would let her get as early of a rest as the sun was taking. She was tired all over from Shadow's workout and tired of thinking thanks to the pile of paperwork.

The top of the moon peered over the horizon to find Spitfire landing next to Shadow on the practice field. He’d probably been waiting a while, but time always seem to disappear when Spitfire sat down to finish signing promotional contracts. He was pacing back and forth, and neglected his useful hoofshake when she landed.

“Good evening, Miss Spitfire.”

“Hey, Shadow, look, I wanted to talk to you about today.”

Shadow’s brow furrowed. “What about it? Your fliers did very well.”

“Well about Rainbow Dash...”

“Yes, she did better than all the rest today. I've never seen a pegasus with her natural talent before. You truly are fortunate to have picked her up for your team.”

“No, Shadow, what I mean to say is that I'm sorry she punched you. Are you alright?”

His frown slid away as he broke into a laugh. “You do realize I did all that on purpose right? If she made anything clear to me, it was that she hates losing a great deal. It may have been cruel of me, but now she will train as hard as she can in order to best me next time. She'll be a great asset to your team in the coming years.”

“You know what, if you’re ok with it, I’m not going to argue with you at all. I still am downright ashamed that one of my mares would ever punch a pony over something like that.”

“A small price to pay. This will help both her and your team in the long run. I'd take a lot more than a bloody nose to see a pony like her reach her full potential. She'll need some follow up work, but that's your job as Captain isn't it? Make sure she keeps training.”

Spitfire nodded. Shadow’s motives made sense, and it meant a lot less paper to push later. After having visited several countries on tour, Spitfire knew well that Equestria had abysmal amounts of red tape over assault cases. This way there would be no legal issues, no apology needed, and she was holding onto her coach.

“So...what did you want to talk about?” voiced Shadow hesitantly.

“Uhm, that was about it actually.”

With a nod, Shadow took off and Spitfire followed, both banking to the east. He must want to talk on the way back to his hotel. The one thing Shadow had consented to Spitfire buying him was lodging in Cloudsdale for when he came to visit. That only happened after a good deal of argument, and he agreed only after she compromised to let him stay in the cheapest place he could find.

“I still can't believe you wanted to stay in that Cloudy Stables place when we could have easily booked you a room at Cloud Nine. My team isn't exactly hurting for bits you know.”

“I didn't come here to sleep. I came here to help your team, and on that note, Double Dare has improved his left turn, but still needs work on the right. Eagle Claw's posture is poor, he needs to keep his tail inside his airflow, and up when hovering. And Sidewinder needs to work on his backward loops. They have to be much tighter.”

“Ok, anything else?”

“You all need to improve at wing pushups, but that never seems to change. Yes even you, Miss Team Captain.”

Spitfire tried to ignore the burning in her wings as she forced on an approving smile and spoke up in her most cheerful voice.

“Well then I guess that's just what we'll do!”

“You haven't changed a bit. So determined, but determination alone just doesn't cut it.”

“Wait, changed since when?”

“Flight school.”

She would have never guessed a few words could have so quickly brought her back to the time they first met.

Spitfire unclenched her teeth and let her lunchbox fall to the ring of clouds that acted as a lunch table. The cloudy field and columns of the school went unheeded as she nosed around in the aluminum box, looking for the columbine sandwich that her parents had promised her. With a meep of delight, she lifted it out, and pulled it free of the plastic sandwich bag. One very un-fillylike bite later and a third of the sandwich was tickling her taste buds, the deep blue petals a mess on the table. With her mouth occupied, Spitfire looked up to survey her classmates.

Around her were thirty or so tables with all colors of pegasus fillies and colts thrumming with the excitement of their first day at flight school. As she looked on, she realized all the other ponies were sitting with their peers, all except her. Well, her and a light green colt with a messy blue mane sitting alone at a table at the edge of the lunch area, frowning over his books. He looks lonely! Spitfire swallowed the mash of bread and savory petals, gathered up her lunch, and trotted over to visit.

“Mermd eef I sirt dowm?” Talking with the handle of her lunchbox in her mouth was difficult, but the colt nodded so Spitfire sat at the table and dropped her lunch box. Up close he looked like even more of a mess. His mane and tail were tangles of knots, and his coat was matted in patches. Under that, his ribs stood out in high relief against his fur, as did the bones in all his legs. Staring back at her were two slate gray eyes, quivering.

“Hi, I'm Spitfire, what is your name?”

“I'm...Shadow.”

Spitfire watched as those eyes darted back and forth between her face and the lunch box. The rest of the table was clear, and there were no saddlebags over by Shadow's chair. He must have forgotten his lunch!

“Hey you want some lunch? I've got lots.”

Shadow's eyes lit up, and he exclaimed softly, “Yes, please.”

Spitfire dug back into her lunch, and began pulling out snacks. Dividing each in half she passed them to Shadow. Daisy chips, a lettuce roll, a small block of hay, and a honey muffin were each gone a scarce few seconds after she slid them across the table. As soon as each food item came within reach of his hooves, he snatched it up and shoved it into his mouth. Spitfire giggled; she'd never seen anypony eat so fast. Shadow gulped down the hay without chewing it and stared at her with obvious longing.

“You're still hungry, aren't you?”

He nodded slowly, eyes darting between the muffin and her sandwich.

“Well here!” Spitfire slid the other half of her snacks over to Shadow with a sweep of a foreleg. While he began to scarf down the rest of the food, she slid around the table to sit next to him. As her rump met the cloud-chair, Shadow jumped and shrank away from her.

“Hey don't be scared, I just wanted somepony to talk to during lunch. Maybe we can be friends?” To ease the tension off, Spitfire took another messy bite out of her sandwich. Petals fell to the table, and she stuck two between her lips lips a duck bill. Shadow's expression softened as the worry and caution faded away, replaced by a smile.

“You really mean it?”

“Yeah!”

“Well then I'd like to be your friend, and thank you so much for lunch!”

Spitfire moved her chair right up next to Shadow; this time he didn't shrink away.

“Yay! We're going to have so much fun at flight school together! So why didn't you have a lunch today?”

“Well, I hrgnk!” Shadow gurgled, eyes bulging and cheeks thrust out as if somepony was choking him. He put his hooves to his neck, brows furrowed, and after taking a breath he tried again. “My parents tolckkkk-k-k-k-k!” He pounded a hoof on the table as he tried to stutter out his answer. Spitfire was about to ask Shadow if he was okay when the bell rang.

“Well I'll see you after classes then?” She asked, hoping he could tell her why he forgot his lunch. It had to be really scary, or really secret.

“Sure!” replied Shadow as they both trotted away from the table.

For the rest of the day Spitfire didn't pay much attention to her teachers, still lost in thought over her new friend and how she would get to talk to him after classes. She'd get to tell him about her house, and family, and pet falcon, and -- the bell rang to end classes for the day and Spitfire hurried to grab her saddlebags. Chaos was consummated in thirty fillies and colts all bouncing over each other in futile attempts to fly while charging for the cubbies their bags waited in. Somehow in the crush she found the pair with gusts of wind embroidered on the sides and an empty lunchbox within.

The main entrance to the flight school was a vast expanse of deep gray clouds, filled with all sorts of pegasi making their way home. Toward the edge of their expanse, Shadow was being led off quickly by a large pegasus in a gray suit.

“Shadow!” cried out Spitfire, but he was too far away to hear. Before she could sprint after him, she was scooped up into the air and landed upside down. The pony that had picked her up was cuddling her with a fierce devotion, and probably embarrassing her in front of whatever classmates were left to see.

“Oh mom!” Spitfire whined in exasperation. After a little tussle and much squirming, she was nearly enveloped in red hair. Blazemane set down Spitfire with a grin.

“So how was your first day? And who were you yelling for?”

“That was my new friend, Shadow, but he's gone now...”

“Oh don't you worry Spitfire, I'm sure you'll see him again tomorrow.”

She wouldn't see Shadow again for nineteen years, a day where everything was going right and she’d forgotten about anything other than her dreams.

Spitfire looked ahead as she rounded the bend for the last time. There, a quarter mile through the fading twilight lay the finish. Ahead and to the right of her by a mere half length Tameless gasped for air as he struggled to stay ahead of Spitfire. Thoughts tried to enter her tired mind: yammerings of aching muscles, empty lungs, and a noisy crowd were all shoved aside. Everything else faded away into a blur save for that finish.

Something broke in the air. With a crackling noise she shot past Tameless. Scarce seconds passed before the finish line passed beneath and she pulled into a high loop above the stadium. The announcer was roaring about how she scored first, but her ears were not taking that in, nor were her eyes registering the other racers below. All she saw was the fire burning along the last straightaway, and the trail of smoke in her wake to where she hovered above it all. That scene lingered bright before her eyes the rest of the night until she found herself in a bar at Cloudsdale.

Somepony pressed a large mug of cider into her hooves, and she had barely enough time to shift it to one ankle before Tameless grabbed her other hoof and held it high in the air. Raising his own mug he called out,

“To our winning mare and new captain of the 'bolts, Spitfire!”

“Hooray!” The collective cheer was carried on not just be her teammates, but everypony else who had crammed into the bar to see their team.

Spitfire took a long draw from her cider, letting the cold and sweet yet ever so slightly bitter taste bring her back to reality. As the rest of the team dissolved into merry-making, Tameless pulled her aside, his eyes bespeaking seriousness.

“You earned this Spitfire...I'm a little sad to let it go, but this is what the team and you deserve. There is a lot more to being captain than just racing, but I'll be there to help you through it. For now though, enjoy yourself tonight and get a lot of rest tomorrow, because you're probably going to be sorer than you've ever been. Oh and...you're used to media attention, but that's about to get a whole lot worse.” With a wink and a friendly smile on his face, the now ex-captain of the Wonderbolts grabbed his drink and strode off to join his comrades.

It was almost too much for her to take in, and staring into the depths of her mug was not making anything clearer. With a shrug, Spitfire followed Tameless, the grin of her face stretched wider than it ever had been before.

“-and I'll fly on, fly on, fly on hiiiiiiiigggggghhhhhhh!”

“Mrmph,” the new captain groaned as she silenced her cell phone. No traces of memory wafted through her mind about setting an alarm the night before. It was an off-day. Then again, she didn’t remember all that much from the night before at all. Blearily she lifted her aching head from the pillows to look at the phone.

On the screen flashed the words 'Call Incoming' next to an unrecognized number with a Canterlot area code. The phone agency that the Wonderbolts used was supposed to prevent this kind of thing. Some unicorn spell or another was used to not only keep their numbers restricted, but calls wouldn't even go through unless whoever was trying to call was on an approved list. And whoever this was clearly wasn't approved...but apparently clever enough to get around the blocking spell. Awww what the hell. She picked up the phone.

“Hello?” Spitfire was expecting some excited fan on the other end of the line, not the calm and plain reply.

“Good afternoon, is this Ms. Spitfire?”

“Uh yeah, who is this? And how did you get my number?”

A sigh followed on the other end of the line. “I don't think you'll remember me, but this is Shadow Wing.”

Spitfire paused, trying to think past the hangover. Dehydration and the haze of sleep left frustrated. “I’m sorry, who? I don’t think we’ve met before. And you didn’t say how you got my number.”

The speaker paused, as if unsure. “Uhhhm...we met on our first day of flight school. You shared your lunch with me. I know that’s probably nothing to go off of.”

Spitfire paused, and then the haze lifted. Shadow...Shadow...ohmycelestia Shadow! The memories were vague, but they were there right next to the niggling curiosity. “Shadow! It's been...years! What happened to you?! You've got to come and tell me everything! When can you visit?”

Shadow sounded surprised at the sudden outburst. “Well, I've got this afternoon free...”

“Great! When can you come up to Cloudsdale?” Lucky for Spitfire, the 'bolts were hosting last night's race, the closest thing to a home game that the bunch of racers ever could have.

“If I leave now, about twenty minutes.”

“Alright, can you be here at...” Spitfire looked at the clock and frowned, it was a quarter til four in the afternoon. “Five for dinner at the Skytrough?” Geez I slept late.

“I can.”

“Wait, do you need directions?”

“I'll find it.”

“Oh, ok, well see you then!”

“Goodbye.” The phone beeped to confirm the end of the call. Spitfire started to wonder about how calm Shadow sounded. Can't judge anypony off of how he sounds on the phone, especially since I haven't heard from him since...eighteen years ago? Something like that. Another glance at the clock was enough motivation for to get up and get ready for dinner.

“Arlgch!” Tameless was right. She was damned sore.

Skytrough wasn't exactly a fancy restaurant, but it wasn't cheap either. It hid somewhere in that thin middle band of ‘nice company and food’ and ‘won’t wreck the weekend budget’. Casual enough for a meeting with a long lost friend? Spitfire was about to find out.

Hangovers were about as good for flying as the drinking that summoned them, and Spitfire was too sore for a proper landing. Her hooves brushed the mane of one of the stallion’s waiting in line. Whoops.

The unassuming building made out of the same cloud as every other structure in the town was very popular with the locals, and there was always a wait. That wait manifested itself with a mix of outrage and awe, the former by the folks who almost got run over. It wasn't every day the common pony saw a Wonderbolt, even if she did knock a few of them over. Still pitching back and forth from her unsteady landing, Spitfire almost fell over but an outstretched hoof set her back upright.

“Oh, thank you!”

“It's no problem.” The same voice from the phone call washed over her. Spitfire looked up to see that the colt she had known as Shadow was gone, replaced with a short, pale-green stallion.

“Shadow!”

“Uhm...errr, hi! Spitfire...” Shadow stammered quietly as he held up a Skytrough pager. “I uhh got here a little early, and reserved us a table, and well, they said it will be about half an hour at the least though.”

“Oh they did, did they? Well thanks, but you didn't need to. They know me here.” Spitfire grabbed Shadow by the fetlock and led him through the front door. Had she looked back, she might have noticed Shadow staring wide eyed at their entwined hooves and trying not to stumble as he cantered after her on three legs.

Once inside, Spitfire trotted up to the the counter and coughed impatiently at the clerk. . On the her neat button down shirt a name-tag proclaimed her to be 'Snowflake'. Weather was all too often the namesake of a pegasus, even moreso than their unique anatomy.

“Ok, your reservations are good for next Monday at seven, thank you and have a good night.” Hanging up the phone, she started writing down the reservation in the ledger and without looking up.

“Hello and welcome to the Skytrough, we're very busy tonight and the wait is nearly an hour. If you want to take a pager, let me know how many you're expecting in your party and we'll seat you as soon as we can.”

Spitfire coughed impatiently.

“I'm sorry, ma'am,” continued the receptionist. “I didn't catch that, could you please say that again?” She scribbled faster, indenting the paper almost to the point of tearing.

Once again Spitfire cleared her throat, and Snowflake spat out her pen and glared.

“Look, you're wasting your time if--Oh! Spitfire! I uhm uh we have an open table for...two?” Spitfire nodded. “Right this way please!”

Spitfire followed Snowflake through several crowded rooms full of boisterous ponies enjoying their dinners. Up a flight of stairs and in a far corner stood an empty table behind a curtain by a window that overlooked the . Snowflake hurriedly dropped a pair of menus tucked under her wing and rushed off with a backward cry. “Somepony will be right with you!”

Spitfire flung herself down in her chair without further ado, and looked over Shadow as he seated himself more sedately. After he sat down, she found herself looking down to meet his gaze. He’s so short for a stallion! I’m actually taller than him.

She would have giggled but his stare was hard, and she was still a little too sore and hung over to laugh so easily. Shying away from his eyes, she looked over the rest of his features. His colors had gotten slightly darker since his childhood, and muscles rippled over his frame. The realization that she was staring chilled Spitfire, and she quickly looked back to up Shadow's eyes, only to find him still doing the same. In an attempt to kill the awkward silence, she reached forward and picked up her menu.

“Any idea what you want, Shadow?” asked Spitfire in a well-practiced casual tone. It was the same one she used on every media-colt that stuck a microphone in front of her face.

At the sound of her voice, Shadow jumped a little in his seat, then lunged forward like a starving dog to seize the menu, opening it wide in front of his face in such a way to hide himself from Spitfire's view.

“Uh...well...I'll eat anything. Do you know what's good here?” Shadow's voice came a little muffled from behind the menu, which was shaking slightly in his hooves.

“Oh yeah, this is my favorite restaurant in town, if not in all of Equestria. Just about everything is good on the menu, but I figure you wanted a suggestion. My favorite is the jalapeno salad, it's got a real nice kick to it. If spicy isn't your thing, than the veggie burger is always a safe choice.”

As she spoke, she tried to glance around his menu, but Shadow was holding it up so that the only thing she could see were his hooves wrapped around the edges. At least he'd stopped shaking if the menu was anything to go by. Before Spitfire could ask Shadow what kind of food he liked, or to set his menu on the table and act like a normal pony, Snowflake rushed back to the table, a glass of water balanced on each forehoof. In one smooth motion she slid the glasses onto the table and drew a notepad and pen. Breathlessly she began.

“What can I get for you Spitfire? Sir?”

“Oh I'll have the usual.” Spitfire replied, hoofing over her menu. “What about you Shadow?”

“Uhh...yeah...I'll have the burger.” Shadow mumbled from behind his menu.

“What will you have to drink, sir?” inquired Snowflake.

“This water is fine.”

“You know I've got your meal covered, you don't have to drink just water.” Ooooook?

“Water is fine for me.”

As Snowflake went to take the menu away from Shadow, she ran into a little trouble. He decided to take his time, and she eventually lost patience and pried it from his hooves. As his cover fell away, Spitfire resumed her stare without much shame, as Shadow was bashfully staring into the table.

His mane and tail were cropped very short, even for a stallion, each such a dark blue that it almost yielded to black. The sickly-green of his coat only served to contrast the darker tones. Underneath the coat muscles rippled, especially near the base of his wings. The green hair wore off at the base of his legs to reveal matte black hooves. Above the left forehoof he wore a bulky digital sports watch, just as out of date as the fraying brown saddlebags on the floor by his chair.

She let herself get a good look at his cutie mark, just long enough to not be rude. It was five narrow white circles concentric to one another, varying in size. Wonder what that's for. Ah well, about time somepony broke the awkward silence.

“So...Shadow...tell me about what happened? I never got to see you after our first day of school.”

Shadow looked up, and Spitfire got another view into his medium gray eyes. He didn't have the look of admiration or loyalty most fans did. What she saw was something somewhere between contempt and uncertainty.

“After I left that day, my family had some...problems. Had to move. I was sent to boarding school.”

“Oh, so what happened after that? What are you doing now?”

“Well, after I went to school I got lucky enough to land a scholarship to Canterlot University to study vocal music. Didn't get good enough grades to land any job offers so I'm working at a posh restaurant in Canterlot.”

“And your cutie mark...?” It was a totally legitimate excuse to stare at him.

“Acoustics. Geometric sound blending.” Shadow stopped to cough into his hoof.

“So you'd be a good sound engineer then. Seems like you're in better shape than most ponies who want to work in that industry.”

“Oh, I just train now and again.”

That was a lie if Spitfire had ever heard one. Shadow was far too well toned for a pony who just trained casually. He looked more like to sort that went every day, bickered about supplements with ponies who ‘didn’t even lift’, and probably had a shrine built of hoof-weights.

At that moment, Snowflake glided over to the table with a tray. A typical looking burger nearly buried in hayfries was set before Shadow as Spitfire beamed over the spicy salad in front of her. In that lull, the waitress added a earthenware mug topped off with frothing malted apples on one side of the table, and a simple plastic glass with water on the other. Declining her plate for just a moment, she instead took a long pull from the mug, savoring the sweet yet crisp brew.

No sooner than she'd set the mug back down on the table did she have to stop herself from choking on her drink. Across the table, Shadow was already half done with his burger, chewing with the determination of a starved, homeless stallion. After she cleared her throat, Spitfire finished laughing and vomited out the fire thing that came to mind.

“Did you not get anything to eat this week?”

Shadow looked up, confusion plastered on his features.

“This is how I always eat.” The response was matter-of-fact, akin to the tone of voice one would use to describe the weather.

“Are you afraid your meal is going to get up and run away on you?” Her giggles hadn’t quite stopped, but at least she could sit up all the way now.

“No. The sooner I am done eating, the sooner I can go do something else.”

As soon as the last word left his mouth, he resumed shoveling food into it. Spitfire stared for the scarce seconds it took him to to consume the rest of his sandwich. Once he paused for some water she took the chance to speak again.

“Well, you aren't going anywhere right after dinner right?”

“...no, why?”

“Well first I'd like to take the time to finish my meal.” Spitfire paused to take a mouthful of peppers. She chewed thoughtfully, savoring the burn as she talked herself into making her next statement. It was a gamble, but one didn’t win by always taking the safest route. “And then, since you're free, I was hoping you'd join me on a trip down to the Academy.”

“Academy?”

If somepony else was in the room at that second, he or she would have been at a loss as to which party looked more confused, but would have eventually chosen Spitfire. How could anypony not know about her beloved Academy? It was the place that every pegasus colt and filly longed to find themselves at one day. There lay the true embodiment of what it meant to be a pegasus -- to fly.

“The Wonderbolts Academy? Sound vaguely familiar?” The words dangled in the air, a lifeline for the idiot who didn’t realize what the wings on his back meant.

“I think I've heard of it before. That's where you test your potential recruits, right?” Shadow absently wiped some grease from the corner of her mouth.

“Well,” returned Spitfire, still suppressing anger at the unintentional insult, “I'd like to see you run a course there.”

Shadow upended the plate over his face, dumping in the rest of the hayfries. He looked back across the table and chewed and swallowed the mass of fried grass as if he were inhaling the mass of starch.

“Sure.”

“Do I really have to wear these?”

Shadow shifted uncomfortably in a Wonderbolts trainee uniform, flight goggles resting on his forehead. It was thin and tight-fitting, marked brightly to identify recruits in both stormy skies and the clear blue. Laid out before him over the cliff's edge a mass of whirlwinds, cloud rings, and storm clouds shuddering with electric potential waited. Spitfire had set it all up in a hurry while one of the current trainees fetched a spare uniform for Shadow.

“Yes, it's regulation. While practicing on our grounds, you wear a team uniform.”

Spitfire was almost at a loss -- he just seemed plain clueless! A typical recruit would have been giddy at putting on the uniform, and intimidated to the point of shaking at the course. Shadow was clearly annoyed at the former, and if the attitude was anything to go by, hadn't even noticed the latter. Not that he was a recruit...yet. It was looking less and less likely by the minute.

“Alright,” instructed Spitfire. “When I say 'go', you'll dive down to that first set of rings at your eleven o'clock...” As she explained the course in its complexity to Shadow, he listened patiently. “...You go into a counter-clockwise spiral climb through the thunderheads at the far end there, and last you pull a backwards arc to land back where you started. I know that's a lot, so do you have any questions?”

“Just one. Why couldn't we have done this before we ate?” Shadow asked, one eyebrow raised.

“Because we don't just invite anypony to try this, and I couldn't decide if I wanted you to try it before meeting you again. I would have you wait an hour, but in just a bit here, this area will be in use for practice. So it's now, or I might be able to find you a time later.” Oh please just go now.

“Very well,” sighed Shadow as he put the goggles over his eyes. When Spitfire blew her whistle, he sprinted forward and dove over the edge.

Spitfire reached the edge just in time to see Shadow pull out of a steep dive and streak through the first circle of cloud rings, pulling into a tight turn. Faster and faster he climbed, wings tearing at the air like razors, shoving it behind and reaching hungrily for more.

Pale green and dark blue paired with light blue and yellow looked just plain ugly when mixed into a high speed blur, but there was nothing ugly to Spitfire about the aerial feats she was witnessing. She went back at forth from intently studying his performance to noting the time on her stopwatch. That focus was sharply interrupted when Tameless came up from behind so suddenly that she jumped.

“Getting an early start on your new job? I like it. And it looks like whoever that is...is doing well. Where did you find him?”

“At dinner...” Spitfire replied dumbly.

In front of them, Shadow climbed into the final part of the course, dodging lightning strikes as he rose. Finally round to face them he rose above the last of the obstacles. The final cloud dissolved in his wake as he pulled out of the spin and sped back to land in front of the two Wonderbolts, panting hard. Spitfire stopped her watch, and Tameless craned his neck to read it over her shoulder.

1:2773

“Are you seriously telling me that-”

“Hlrrrghk!”

Tameless's question was cut short by Shadow vomiting his meal over the edge of the cliff. The mess of burger, hayfries, and stomach acid really caught the wind and spread as it fell. Had it been any other time and place, Spitfire might have considering making a joke about how he was green in the face.

“Ok,” continued Tameless, still watching the spectacle of flying puke, “You're telling me that this is his first time? And that was his course time on a full stomach?”

Spitfire nodded slowly, shaking away the implications. She had been the one holding the watch two years ago when Tameless set the all-time Wonderbolt record for the course; one minute, seventeen seconds, and thirty-three hundredths. That was after years of being a 'bolt and enough practice runs to perfectly memorize the obstacles. Shadow was only slower by ten seconds and some change. The graduation requirement for cadets was a minute and a forty seconds.

“Well unless you have any objections, Ms. Captain, we should certainly take him onto the team.” Tameless stared over at where Shadow was wiping his face with a foreleg, and then wiping the foreleg on the grass. Spitfire realized he was still nodding her head, and shook it vigorously, making the feeling retreat.

“No, I have none.”

“Then it's settled.”

When Shadow had finished wiping his leg clean he stood up shakily, and staggered back over to where Tameless and Spitfire stood.

“Well...that was awful! If the Wonderbolts all fly like that, then you are truly the best there is. Thanks for letting me see what you do here, but I'll be going now.”

“Hold on a minute young stallion, what's your name?” Tameless spoke with every ounce of authority Spitfire had ever seen him employ. It was the classic voice that came out whenever somepony made when conferring an offer to a lesser being.

“My name is Shadow Wing.” Shadow offered a hoofshake, which Tameless took enthusiastically.

“Well then, Shadow Wing, I believe my captain over here has something she'd like to ask you.”

Spitfire swallowed and began. “Shadow, how would you like to join the Wonderbolts?”

At that last word, Shadow's eyes grew wide for a moment, and then darkened just as quickly.

“No thank you.”

Spitfire recoiled, as did Tameless. Nopony ever said 'no' to the Wonderbolts. Who would be crazy enough to turn down a job that came with a lifetime of fame and a multi-million bit salary? The proper answer was ‘no one, ever.’

“Son, I don't think I heard you right. I believe she just offered you a position on her team.” Sternness tempered Tameless’s command.

“No.” Shadow put on his saddlebags and stood up as if to take off.

Tameless’s brow furrowed. “You’re an idiot, boy. You wait here now, and don’t go anywhere ‘til I say so.”

Shadow nodded, and as he did he began to retch again. Before he made a mess in front of them, Tameless trotted off with Spitfire in tow. When they were far enough away that the smell wasn’t bothersome and Shadow couldn't hear them, Tameless stopped and began to talk fast.

“Look, we can't lose this guy, so this is what we'll do...”

As Tameless laid out his plans, Spitfire watched Shadow go through a few dry heaves, then get a water bottle out of his saddlebags. She shivered a little, realizing the suck she’d put him through for the sake of idle curiosity.

“...and I don't think he can refuse. Alright, lets do this Spits'.”

Spitfire realized she'd been watching Shadow a little too intently to really get the details of what Tameless said, but judging by the look in his eye, he was going to do the talking for her. They returned to find Shadow sitting at the edge, looking off into the clouds. The wind was blowing toward them, causing what little mane he had to wave like he was in flight.

“Mr. Shadow Wing?” Tameless was really laying on every bit of formal he had. “Would you be interested in a coaching position for our team?”

The course had already returned to its shape, shrugging off the damage from its beating. Shadow stared off into that cloudspace. “I'm already occupied. I wish I could help, but that just isn't possible for me.” Unperturbed, the smaller pegasus went back to washing out his mouth.

“Yeah? Well I'm calling bullshit on that. I don't care if you're a waiter at Celestia's palace, or have an offer to become an earl. I want you to be the physical fitness trainer for the 'bolts! You'll only have to show up for the conditioning days, it's my job to teach the team the fancy acrobatics. This will pay more than any other job you could possibly find. My team has enough bits to buy your soul out of servitude to the Queen of Tartarus should that be your obligation, so there is nothing that could possibly hold you back. What do you say?”

Pure vehemence filled Shadow's eyes. He stood up and marched over to Tameless, put his face up close to the other stallion's, and began to whisper in his ear. Spitfire watched in frustration. That little prick!

As Shadow continued to whisper, Tameless's eyes grew wide, and his jaw slowly lowered. Some while later, Shadow stopped, and left Tameless there to blink. It didn’t look natural: nature had not intended for the shorter pony to stare up and threaten the taller one.

“Well...look. Even if you're not just fucking with me, I'd still like to find way to work around your...” Tameless paused for a moment as he tried to find the right word. “...schedule? It would work better anyways, because conditioning days are only once or twice a week, and I guess if you couldn't be at every one, one of us can run it. We'd still pay you handsomely for the ones you could show up for.”

A long moment passed between the two before Shadow cleared his throat and answered. “I guess that will work. I'll start whenever you like. Give me a call, Spitfire has my number.”

The ex-captain and the new coach shared another hoofshake before the latter threw his water bottle back in his saddlebags and made a shaky take-off into the blue. Once he was out of sight, Spitfire took a deep breath, and tried not to yell.

“Tameless, what the hell just happened?!”

“Well...we got him. That's what matters. I'm sure in time we can convince him to sign onto the team.”

“You know what I meant. What did he say?”

Tameless sighed and after kicking the grass with a hoof looked at her almost sadly.

“Spits'...if you trust me, just let it go.”

“...what did he tell you?”

“It's what he didn't tell me that matters. He’s got another job, and he doesn’t want to talk about it. Look, can you trust me enough to let it be?”

Spitfire burned with anger inside at being kept out of the know, but swallowed enough pride to answer. “I trust you Tameless.”

“Ms. Spitfire, are you alright?”

Shadow's voice jolted her back to the present, just in time to avoid flying into the path of a cumulus that the night weather teams hadn't gotten to yet. That's odd, the skies should be clear by now. Looking around, Spitfire found that the town skies were clear, but they were on the outskirts of town, heading out.

“Uh, Shadow, your hotel is back over there a ways.” Spitfire pointed a hoof over toward the nearest quarter of town.

“So it is.” He flew on, gazing off towards the dim horizon.

“Then where the hay are you going?”

Shadow landed on one of the stray clouds and turned to face Spitfire. She watched his eyes and mouth with every word, trying to puzzle out the intent behind them. He wasn’t giving her much to work with. “I've been called in to work. I'm sorry, but I can't stay for all three days we’d originally planned.”

Sighing, Spitfire considered her options. “Alright, we'll make it work out. I’ll run the conditioning tomorrow, and we’ll pay you four hundred crowns instead of six.” She paused before pointlessly trying one more time. “So, did you ever give any more thought to joining the team?”

For the first time in months she watched his visage soften. It was wistful, and just a little bit sad. “Perhaps when you stop paying me I might, though one day...I wish I could.” Forgoing a further farewell, he winged his way into the night.

On the way back to her apartment, Spitfire found herself pondering yet again over Shadow. Ever since he’d been hired, he'd call the evening before he was able to make it to a practice. The next day he'd be there early for conditioning, or 'horse-shoe camp' as the team called it. He'd stay one day sometimes, and sometimes as long as half a week, and when he left, everypony was sore. Sore, just like Spitfire was now.

The night made it difficult to dwell on the scenery, and so her thoughts drifted toward her aching body. Her forelegs hurt, her hindlegs ached, and her back felt like a giant weight she just couldn't shrug off. Seems that Shadow had earned his pay. Two thousand bits a day, working six to eight days a month was a far cry from what a full time coach would earn, but it seemed to be enough for him. And honestly, it was more than enough for anypony to get by on.

When Shadow had taken his new job, Spitfire didn't let go of her curiosity. She had tried to figure him out. She had found his old employer, an aging mare by the name of Shiny Platter. She was the owner of the Golden Sunset, a fine dining establishment in upper Canterlot. When asked, Shiny told Spitfire:

“Shadow? Oh yes, that colt. Haven’t seen him for a while now.”

“Did he ever do anything unusual? Any strange habits?” She’d tried not to play junior detective, but the old mare hadn’t minded one way or another.

“Not really, unless you count being quiet most of the time. Now that you mention it though, sometimes he left very suddenly during his shifts, but he always found somepony to cover for him. And he took only one vacation day in a year and a half.”

“Can you tell me the next time he's working?”

“I'm afraid not young mare, he quit almost a month ago. Said something about finding another job as a coach or something like that. Sorry to see him go, but it’s always easy to find a new waiter.”

That was all that Shiny was able to tell her. Three months after that though, income taxes on Equestrian citizens were due. The finished forms were publicly available, so after the rush was over she'd requested Shadow's.

His income for the year was listed at almost a hundred and twenty thousand bits, barely enough to live on in a place as expensive as Canterlot. His only current occupation was listed as 'athletic trainer'. She'd reasoned that whatever else he did wasn't taxable. Fears of the marefia had been the first thing that came to mind, but were dismissed quickly. Shadow just didn't seem the type.

A sigh escaped her into the dark as she landed on her doorstep. Nearly a year later and she was no closer to figuring out anything about Shadow than when she started. She didn't feel like wasting any more time tonight thinking on it either. Her mind and body sought rest. Guess I'll make tomorrow an easy day on the team.

The morning air was clear and cool, a perfect day for flying. A perfect day to slack off and not fly much at all. Just perfect. Before the watchful eyes of their captain, the Wonderbolts stretched tight wings and cramped backs. After giving them a little longer than usual to loosen up, she decided to give her announcement.

“Alright everypony, our fitness coach had to leave a day early, so I'll be running the workout today.”

“WHAT!?” screamed Rainbow Dash from near the back. Her outburst earned several annoyed glares and more than a few growls.

“...and so today's practice will be short and light,” Spitfire continued, exasperated at the outburst, earning cheers from the assorted athletes. “One hundred laps for everypony on the team, then you can go home.”

The team look off, Spitfire in the lead. While her wings were beating and heart was pounding, all thought was stuck on discipline. I'm going to have to have a serious talk with Dash about her attitude issues. She should have gotten this all out of her system in the Academy.

After a few short minutes the team was done and grabbing for their bags, eagerly discussing how to spend a whole Saturday. Spitfire put a heavy hoof down on Rainbow Dash's shoulder before she could join them.

“Better come with me kid, I think we need to discuss some things.”

“Yeah, I kind of need to talk to you too.”

Of all the reactions Spitfire had expected, acceptance was near the bottom of the list. With a shake of the head to indicate direction, she took off with Dash close behind. Once they were a ways into the sky, far enough away to not be overheard, Spitfire began.

“Alright Dash, it's clear to me that you have some issues with the coach. Since it seems just as clear that you can't keep those to yourself, let’s get them out of the way now.”

“Well actually I meant to apologize to him today, but he’s gone.” Dash said, turning her head away. “I hate that he beat me in front of everypony, but that was no reason to lose it and hit him. I'm sorry for embarrassing you, ma'am, and if I could ask a favor?”

Spitfire nodded, face carefully blank as she tried to conceal her approval from the rookie.

“Can you let me know when he'll be back? Or do you have his phone number or something? I'd just like to talk with him for a bit.”

“Well...” Spitfire paused as she thought it over. “His schedule isn't regular or planned, but he comes by once every few weeks. He doesn't like calls much, but he always calls me before he shows up. How about this? The next time he calls, you'll be the first to know after me.”

“Thank you, ma'am!”

“Don't mention it kid.” Spitfire turned to go but stopped to yell back at Dash's retreating form. “And do try to win the next time you race him!”

Author's Note

Phew. Being my own proofreader is a good look at how stupid I can be sometimes.
->And being corrected by my buddy Dizziestbeef from FOBEQ can REALLY rub it in.
->And further typo fixes by Spangle just make me feel like a loser at the English language...

I use italics to designate thoughts and emphasis on words, but have to manually re-insert them. Sorry if I missed any.

It's kind of funny that each of these chapters so far is longer than anything I've ever had to do for an essay.

Lastly, while Shadow Wing is an OC of mine, he is not supposed to be me. I could never be an introvert *shudders*

Re-edited on 5/17/15