//------------------------------// // Dr. Lovestrange's Ending // Story: The Special Brony Hug // by Dr.Lovestrange //------------------------------// Rainbow Dash twitched in her sleep, dreaming of speeding through the air with Gilda, as they had at camp two summers prior. A particularly violent twitch started her into wakefulness, and she scrubbed at her face with a hoof, fighting off the fog of sleep. Swiping at her eyes once more, she thought back to the still unfinished business with her friend: their bet. It hung over her, unspoken of in their letters. The only thing stronger than Dash’s embarrassment at failing to get so much as a kiss was her determination to win. The ‘boobless dunce’ comment still stung, but she rather liked her chances against someone who didn’t even know where boobs were. Glancing out the window, head still muzzy, Dash realized it must be rather later than she’d thought, since the sun was already well on the way to its zenith. As she listened she heard Pinkie Pie squealing about her latest project. Rainbow wondered idly what her friend could possibly want with a guitarra de golpe. A sudden shout of “Cutie Mark Crusaders Mariachi Band, YAY!” cleared that one up. Pinkie bounced into view, shepherding three smaller foals, who held guitars, guittarones, and a fiddle. A quick scan identified the Apple Bloom, Scootaloo, and Sweetie Belle. Collecting her thoughts, Dash was dismayed at what she found. The bet was still heavy on her mind, along with a depressing truth. She was as ignorant of the ways of dating as Sweetie Belle or Apple Bloom and dammit she wouldn't put it past Scootaloo to have one upped her in the lady department. Forgot embarrassing, this was mortifying. She was Rainbow Dash and someone as thrilling as her in the air shouldn't be so stupidly fumbling in more delicate matters. She wanted to be the Casanova of the skies, not a boobless dunce. Not that she was stupid or something. She could have had any number of mares, but Rainbow Dash wanted the best. She deserved the best, and the best just wasn’t putting out. Oh no, the best would rather make a freaking mariachi band with some actual boobless dunces. She'd had her eye on Pinkie Pie and Dash was positive that she was no prudish virgin, and had some sweet moves. (Or so she heard. Pinkie Pie was a shameless pony, and she usually got what she wanted. And according to Cloudchaser, who just loved to share the latest news with her coworkers, what she wanted turned out to be half of Ponyville.) Dash wasn't about to pick up second tier techniques. She carefully curated her competent facade and she wasn't about to accept a crack in it. Not that Dash knew what a facade was, because really, words like that were best left to Rarity. And if there was more to her attraction to Pinkie Pie, she wasn't about to look too closely at that, let alone ask her friend on something like a date. Who was she, Fluttershy?? Shrugging, Dash bounded down outside and winged her way towards the Pony Mariachi. Pinkie Pie picked up her head, ears pricking up at her friend’s approach. "Hey! DASHIE, want to join us and play?!?" she squealed. "Ai ai ai, Mariachi!" Okay, so Pinkie could be a bit of dork, Dash supposed, but she had a very endearing way about her, with enthusiasm for traditional Mexican music shining in her face, chest rising gently as she inhaled to plead with Dash to humor her, withers sloping gently into the curve of her back up to where it rounded over her full and gorgeous flanks... "DASH! Equestria to Dash, come in Dashie!" Hollered Pinkie Pie. Rainbow Dash started and hovered slightly, shocked from her pleasant reverie by Pinkie's yell and the vigorous waving of what must be an extremely sturdy violin. “Umm, yeah, hey!” said Dash, pulling herself together and trying to act like she hadn’t been checking out her friend. “I was just... really, um, focused! On how I could help with the... music, you know, the mariachi music.” Pinkie Pie, oblivious to Dash’s discomfort, extended a hoof, presenting Dash with the violin. It shook slightly as the pink filly vibrated with with excitement. Carefully, Dash took the instrument, and Pinkie Pie immediately bounded off, returning almost instantly with two giant, garish sombreros, seemingly produced from thin air. Sometimes it was best not to think too hard about how Pinkie Pie did things. She bounced where physics feared to tread. Gingerly, Rainbow Dash positioned the violin. Hoofing the strings in what she hoped was a suggestive manner, she leered at Pinkie Pie and said, “I’d be happy to play your violin” and followed with a roguish wink for good measure. “Okie dokie lokie!!” squealed Pinkie, briefly wondering if there was something wrong with Dash’s face. Pinkie was distracted from Dash’s apparent new tic by Sweetie Belle faceplanting through the guitar she was holding. “Silly filly,” pouted Pinkie, “that isn’t how you play the guitar at all!” “Oh baby, I’ll put a little filly in your guitar...” mumbled Dash, trying to sound deep and sensual. “Dashie, I’ve already got a little filly in my guitar! Would you like a cough drop? You don’t sound so good.” Pinkie Pie reached up into her sombrero a pulled out a little golden lozenge. “Oh, Pinkie, how did you know, I’m really great at sucking on... things” said Dash, with what she hoped was a meaningful pause. “That’s good! Then your throat will get better right away!” Pinkie beamed at her friend, who appeared to be practically choking on a perfectly good cough drop. Rainbow Dash wheezed and blushed, then stammered “here, um, can’t actually play violin, gottagobye” before speeding off in the direction of Cloudsdale. Below her, Angel scowled and vowed Rabbit Revenge on the one who spits cough drops from the sky. Rainbow Dash swooped and soared, gradually working her face out of a look that would have made a filly weep in terror. As she neared Cloudsdale, she spied a trio of colts and veered to change course. She wasn’t in the mood for Dumb-Bell’s “Rainbow Crash” routine. She’d just go home. Gilda was gonna win the bet. At least she had groupies to look forward to, if she ever flew with the Wonderbolts. Head drooping, Rainbow Dash winged her way towards home, wondering if maybe Twilight had a book that could help her. She was desperate enough to actually read. “Oh HI, droopy drawers!” Squealed Pinkie, opening the door just as Dash raised her hand to the knob. Startled, Dash lifted her head. “Uh, hey, Pinkie. Umm, how did you get up here?” She fumbled. “I’m Pinkie Pie, wheeeeee!” was the only reply. “So, Dashie,” continued Pinkie Pie, “I know you were so sad because you couldn’t play the violin, so I brought you something to cheer you right up!” Again, she reached into the sombrero, this time pulling out a pair of maracas. “You can shake them! Everyone can play the maracas!” Screwing up her face and her courage for one last try, Dash purred “Oh, honey, I will shake your maracas all night long” “But your hooves would get tired!” said Pinkie. “You keep saying the oddest things? Are you sick? Are you hiding something? What would you be hiding?! Maybe you don’t like mariachi? Maybe you don’t like me? Is that why you keep making that weird face? Well, I’m on to you Rainbow Dash, you’re not putting one over on Pinkie Pie!” Dash inadvertently stepped back from the advancing pink whirlwind, and hovered in front of her door. “Uh, actually, you see, Pinkie... what I mean, is, well, you know...” Dash felt herself turning crimson “what I actually mean, you know, by maracas... isn’t maracas. Because when I say that I mean that I wanna...” she trailed off, then quietly added “wanna touch you.” “OH!” Gasped Pinkie Pie “That’s what you meant!? I’ve been hoping you’d say something for almost ever! But why would you call them maracas?” “Oh, err, well, I thought you... I...” Dash stuttered, trying to hide her inexperience. “You are so CUTE!” squealed Pinkie Pie, leaning over to nuzzle and nibble at Dash’s withers. Rainbow Dash turned and gazed into her friends eyes as Pinkie’s lips hovered over her coat, searching for a sign, for permission, and liking what she found. A whole new kind of magic was made between Pinkie and her Dashie that night, and although she won her bet, Dash realized that some things are more important than winning. Not that it stopped her from lording it over Gilda like the arrogant prat pony she was, at least until Dash got shanked by Angel.