“I came out here like you asked,” Spitfire growled in her very best ‘Captain is about to kill a recruit’ tone, “the very least you could do is wipe that blasted smile off your face.”
From her place across the small, two-seater table on the cloud patio outside of Capricci’s, Surprise didn’t so much as flinch. The smile upon her snowy white face grew, her sun-kissed mane bounced and pushed the hood on her Wonderbolts sweater back as she tittered into her hooves, completely unaffected by Spitfire’s trademark death glare.
With a sigh, Spitfire pushed her aviator glasses back so she could rub at her eyes. Her infamous short temper and bile usually had ponies scrambling for cover when she gave the slightest hint that Mount Spitfire—a nickname Fleetfoot stuck on her when she first made Lieutenant—was about to erupt. Of course, there were exceptions to the rule.
The most maddening of which just so happened to be sitting across from her.
I should’ve made her fly ‘till she puked back in basic, Spitfire lamented. Of all the pegasi to come through the pipeline and make it to the team in her tenure as an officer, Staff Sergeant Surprise was perhaps the most agitating of the bunch. Not necessarily because she had a cockiness to her, like Spitfire’s girlfriend, but because she never knew when to shut up and stow the jokes and parties for later.
Spitfire dragged her hooves down her face and leveled Surprise with a venomous glare. Snarling, she reached into her jacket pocket and pulled out a folded note. She slapped it down on the table as if she were trying to squash a fly. “Surprise, if you don’t stop that giggling and tell me what in Celestia’s name this note meant, I swear, I’m going to pluck each and every feather from your wings, stuff a pillow with them, and smother you!”
By some mercy, Surprise stopped giggling for a moment. Her cerise eyes seemed to sparkle with mischievous glee. “Does your girly-friend like it when you get all stern and aggressive, Cappy?”
The scowl fell from her face. Spitfire felt her cheeks burn as a rosy hue tinged her coat a fiery orange. Memories of those nights she and Rainbow spent together, a secret kept from their teammates and the media, flashed before her eyes. Subtly holding hooves while they watched a hoofball game, home cooked dinners, stolen kisses in the locker room after a show, and several nights together …
One in particular made the burn spread throughout her face. She couldn’t stop her orange-red tail from swishing or her ears perking as the vision came into view—Rainbow Dash laid out on her stomach, panting hard with beads of sweat matting her coat while Spitfire growled orders in her ear in that stern Captain voice.
“Th-That—” she squeaked “—is neither here nor there!”
“So, an emphatic yes,” Surprise teased.
Spitfire sucked in her lips. “What do you want?”
“Want? Oh, many things, Cappy.” Her eyes danced. “Many, many things. But I think I’ll settle for you and everypony’s favorite Rookie coming clean—as opposed to all the—”
“Finish that sentence, and I promise, I will break off your wings and use them to signal flight patterns.”
Surprise shut her mouth with an audible click of teeth, but her smile remained in place. She hummed as though amused and raised her brows. “I take it you didn’t like my note either.”
“That thing? Ha!” Spitfire flipped it open. “‘I know the secret you and rookie are keeping. Meet me at Capricci’s at five or I’ll get a megaphone and tell the tale to everypony in Cloudsdale.’ Seriously, Surprise?” She let her shoulders sag. “Even if there were a thing with us—”
“If?”
“If,” Spitfire affirmed. “If there was something to the so-called secret you’ve uncovered—which there isn’t—it would’ve been kept quiet for a reason! Don’t you remember how the press reacted when Flatfoot and Clipper got together?”
Surprise giggled. “That was so silly! I think my favorite was that Clipper would get an easier time on making PT standards with Flatty running the panel—she’s on his tail about his diet more than you!”
“Be that as it may, you remember how much of a pain in the rump that was for them?”
“Well, duh! The entire team got called before the higher ups so we could have that boring talk about nepotism and stuff.” She shrugged. “I only remember half of it. Fell asleep.”
Heaving another sigh, Spitfire massaged the bridge of her nose. When it came to dealing with Surprise, if it wasn’t one headache, it was another. One of these days, I’m going to snap. And so will her wing joints. “I’m going to pretend, for your sake, that I didn’t hear you say that,” she ground out through gritted teeth. “But yes. We all had to deal with an ethics course, and that was when two commissioned officers with several years of service and experience under their wings got together. Can you imagine how that might go over with one of our newly minted recruits dating me?”
Surprise beamed. “Do you see a megaphone, Cappy?”
Spitfire blinked twice. She stole a quick glance to Surprise’s side of the table to find that there was, in fact, no megaphone. “No. But that doesn’t—”
“And do you really think I’d ever be so mean to get you in trouble with the press and those prissy pincushions up the ladder?” For a moment, Surprise let her smile fall to a pout that didn’t quite meet her eyes. “I’m hurt, Cappy.”
Unable to help herself, Spitfire let out a low growl. “If you don’t stop all this fooling around, so help me Celestia …”
“Fine! Fine!” Surprise gave a fake huff. “Ruin my fun!” Humming to herself, she shifted in her seat so she could lean forward and prop her elbows on the table. A slow, wicked smile spread across her face, the kind that sent a shiver down Spitfire’s spine and made her rustle her wings as she waited for the horseshoe to fall.
A trickle of dread crept into Spitfire’s chest. Countless numbers of Surprises jokes and pranks flitted through her mind, each of which began with that thrice-cursed smile.
Her most irritating teammate fluffed her feathers, then began, “Well, a few of us noticed that you and the Rookie have been spending an awful lot of time together. Even more than you’ve ever spent with our other big additions.” The smile grew until it almost touched her jawbones. “Especially since you took her to get her mane cut.”
Spitfire swallowed a lump. Had it gotten hotter all of the sudden? Unlikely all the way up in the clouds, especially in Cloudsdale’s Altocumulus district. They were more likely to turn into pegascicles than ever deal with a heat wave. “I take all the rookies to get their mane cut,” she said, “because we’ve got quite a few of them attached to their image, much like Ra—Dash.” Before Surprise could hone in on her slip, she added, “I took you as well, if you recall.”
“Hmm, that’s true.” Surprise brought a hoof to her chin as though thinking for a moment. “But, see, a little birdie mentioned something to me in the locker room a couple days ago that doesn’t quite fit that description. Something about ‘making eyes’ at how much of a ‘cutie’ that rookie turned out to be, even with her mane cut.”
The trickle became a steady stream. “A birdie?”
Surprise waggled her ears. “A Fleetfoot-shaped birdie, to be precise.”
The stream burst through the dam to become a rushing torrent. Oh no. “Th-That’s just speculation,” she managed to force out. “For all Fleetfoot knows—”
“The Fleetfoot-shaped birdie,” Surprise corrected.
“For all she knows, I was just making sure things were up to regulation.” Pausing a beat, she added, “And for your information, I was trying to help Dash get past the whole thing and make sure she knew changing her look didn’t make her any less herself.”
How could it, really? Certainly, a not-so-small part of Spitfire missed the way Rainbow’s mane seemed to flow behind her in mid flight, like liquid rainbow trailing after her toned, athletic body. She ran her tongue along her top lip, but froze when she remembered that she wasn’t quite alone.
Surprise fixed her with a half-lidded stare. Slowly, she arched an eyebrow. “Helping her, huh?”
Spitfire quickly withdrew her tongue and coughed into her hoof. “Yes. Helping her. And that’s all. Fleetfoot—”
“The Fleetfoot-shaped birdie.”
Growling, she ground out, “The Fleetfoot-shaped birdie gave you bad information.”
“Did she?” Surprise’s smile fell. She gave a piteous whine, like a filly who was denied her sweets. “Well! That’s just upsetting! And here I was thinking you’d be the newest most cutest couple in the Wonderbolts.”
With a sigh of relief, Spitfire ran a hoof through her mane. That was a definite thunderhead she just dodged. Between Surprise’s big mouth and her penchant for surprise parties, there was perhaps no Bolt she feared more than her Staff Sergeant when it came to her relationship’s secrecy. There was little doubt in her mind that, eventually, Surprise and the rest of the team would find out.
Now, though, was far too early for her taste. A bit more time would be preferable—like right about when press ponies stopped fishing for gossip so they could destroy some poor sod’s life and rake in easy money and fame. So, right about never.
Come to think of it, never might be too soon …
Just as Spitfire thought she was out of the woods, Surprise met her eyes and smiled. The trickle of dread returned, there was something about that smile that made that little voice in the back of her mind, her natural instinct, scream “FLY, FOOL!” at the top of its imaginary lungs.
Before she could think to follow her instinct’s advice, Surprise sat up and pulled a small slip of paper from her jacket pocket, then set it down on the table. Her hoof rested atop the slip as she hummed to herself. “You know, I wondered about that too, Cappy. Because we all know how much Flatfoot loves to gossip, and her feathers have been itching to get you back for all those jokes about types of pie Clipper likes to eat.”
Spitfire sucked in a sharp breath through her teeth. There was another reason to keep things quiet. “Exactly,” she said with a nod. “So you can see why this is all just a big misunderstanding? I just wanted to make sure our star recruit didn’t get cold hooves all of the sudden.”
“Of course you did. But you realize I had to double-check for myself.” Surprise gave a cheeky wink. “Can’t just discount something without looking into it, you know.”
The trickle of dread skipped the stream and fell upon her like the roar of Neighagara Falls. Spitfire forced a smile and a nervous chuckle. “Wh-What are you talking about?”
Surprise tapped the slip of paper twice. “Why, this, silly! You see, the Fleetfoot-shaped birdie’s claims roused the curiosity of a certain Surprise-shaped birdie. So, this Surprise-shaped birdie decided to follow a certain Spitfire-shaped birdie when she snuck off with a rather pretty looking Rainbow-shaped birdie on our last tour.”
Spitfire’s right eye twitched. She sat as still and silent as stone, her face impassive as she tried to wrestle with the weight of her dread and embarrassment. With each word though, a fire burned in her chest. Her temper rose to the surface. Taking a deep breath through her nose, she closed her eyes and said, “So we hang out a little. Dash loves hoofball, and you know I’m a sucker for anything that involves competition and beating the stuffing out of somepony. Flatfoot and I do it all the time.”
“Did it, according to the Fleetfoot-shaped birdie,” Surprise retorted. “She claims that ever since this new, cute Rainbow-shaped birdie came into the picture, the Spitfire-shaped birdie’s eyes have been all over her. From her soft feathers and powerful wings, all the way to—” a low growl cut her off, she smiled and amended her statement, “So, the Surprise-shaped birdie did a little birdie watching of her own!”
Spitfire cleared her throat. “This sounds like you and Flatfoot are making a whole lot out of nothing, Surprise. Dash and I are friends, sometimes we go off and do things together.”
As it turned out, that was the wrong thing to say. Surprise’s eyes shone like Princess Celestia’s sun at noon. “Like go out on a romantic, candlelit dinner together? With you in a rather fetching orange dress with slits going up to your cutie mark, and Rookie in an expensive looking red satin number?”
Spitfire could’ve sworn her blood ran cold. Her mind raced. She knew exactly which night Surprise was talking about. “How—what?”
“You didn’t see me. I had a nice little spot in the far corner with the perfect angle to watch.” Grinning, Surprise fluffed her feathers. “You both looked so adorable while you were waiting for dessert. Just staring into each other’s eyes and leaning in for a kiss—a real pair of lovebirds if I ever saw one!”
The burn in her cheeks returned in full force. Spitfire hastily snatched her shades off the table and put them on. “Th-That’s slander!” she retorted without meeting Surprise’s eyes. “You have no proof, and I find this to be most … reprehensible.” Yes, that was a good word. Perfect, even. She needed to wrest control of the situation away from her Staff Sergeant.
To her dismay, Surprise’s grin stretched wider. With a casual hum, she wiped her hoof across the table and revealed several slips of paper. “That’s not what my birdie watching pictures say, Cappy.”
Spitfire’s heart skipped a beat. No, no, no, no, no, no, no! “P-Pictures?” She swallowed her spit. “What pictures?”
“Why, these!” Surprise flipped them over in one motion, like a Las Pegasus card dealer. “Don’t the Spitfire-shaped birdie and Rainbow-shaped birdie look positively adorable together?”
With her hoof trembling, Spitfire bit her lip and leaned forward to survey the damage. She even pushed her shades back just to make certain. Sure enough, they were pictures of Rainbow and herself. Together.
The blush spread to the very tips of her ears. One picture showed them both in the dresses Surprise mentioned. Small smiles graced their lips and dusty pink tinged their cheeks as they shared an ice cream and brownie dessert, she even managed to catch them staring into each other’s eyes. The others were much the same—one showed Rainbow sneaking a quick kiss as they slipped into a movie theater; another was of them lying together on a fluffy cloud, with one of her golden wings wrapped snug around Rainbow’s back as her girlfriend rested her head on her chest; yet another showed her laying a wing across Rainbow’s withers while they trotted into a hotel room.
Her jaws clenched. “These,” Spitfire ground out, “are clearly fabricated.”
“Nope!” Surprise chirped. “They’re one hundred percent real! I couldn’t begin to capture such pure love from such an adorable pair of birdies!” After a beat, she added, “I never would’ve thought her to be the picnicking sort, but this Spitfire-shaped birdie sure put together quite the spread, eh?”
Spitfire felt her enamel cracking. She sucked a deep breath through her teeth. “I would strongly advise you to turn those over to me, Surprise.”
The mare hummed to herself, then beamed. “No-can-do, Cappy!” she said with a giggle. Quick as a flash, she snatched the pictures off the table before Spitfire could even think to take them herself. Surprise waggled them playfully and added, “I’ve got a cousin in Ponyville who’d just love to take these and have them blown up for the special party for our newest birdie couple!”
“That sounds like disobeying an order from your superior officer.” Spitfire narrowed her eyes. It was time to play her trump card. “Punishable by eight weeks of locker room duty.”
Surprise didn’t even blink. “We’re out of uniform and off the clock, and this isn’t a meeting in any official capacity.” Her grin stretched from ear to ear. “Not to mention, this isn’t Wonderbolts business, so you have no power, Cappy!”
Silence fell between them. Spitfire closed her eyes and heaved a sigh. “Don’t make me beg, Surprise. Please.”
For a moment, Surprise seemed to consider the prospect. Her eyes gleamed with delight, she was positively gleeful at the opportunity. Most of their team would practically kill for such a chance to get one over on “Captain Serious,” as she was known to the media.
“I’d hate to see you beg,” Surprise mused to herself. “But this is highly valuable information that could go a long way for a special celebratory extravaganza, and I’d hate to pass that up too.”
Spitfire dared to dream that Surprise might be willing to forgo that want, just this once. Anything to keep those pictures out of the press.
With a sniff, Surprise shrugged and slid the pictures across the table. “What the hay? I can’t say no to you, Cappy!”
Oh, thank Celestia! Spitfire let out a sigh of relief as she accepted the pictures. She chuckled despite the situation and glanced each picture over for a second or two before she stuffed them into her jacket pocket. Pausing a moment to adjust her shades, she shook her head. “Geez, don’t mess with me like that, Surprise. You’re gonna give me a heart attack one of these days!”
“I make no promises! Oh, I should probably tell you that I haven’t really spared you anything yet.”
“… What?”
Cerise eyes danced. Surprise sat back in her seat and folded her hooves over her belly. “I did say they would be valuable information for a party, Cappy, and there’s nopony in Equestria who can throw parties like my cousin and me.” She gave a bubbly laugh. “So, I made copies and sent them to my cousin!”
A heavy weight settled on Spitfire’s shoulders. Her mouth worked wordlessly for several seconds. She sputtered, her vocal chords simply unable to form the words to properly convey both her indignation and mounting terror. “You—why—you smug little—I oughta—why?!”
“For fun, of course! Oh, and because you both make such an adorable couple, so a party just makes sense!” Surprise’s eyes went wide. “A great big party with all of our teammates! And Rookie’s friends from Ponyville, too!”
No. No, no, no. There was no curse in Griffish or Yakyaki or even old Equestrian, nothing came close to the towering inferno of righteous indignation that ignited in Spitfire’s chest. Nor could any match the incomprehensible horror that made her stomach churn as she realized that every bit of teasing her teammates, screaming at subordinates for missteps, or anything of the like was about to come back and bite her in the backside all at once.
Of course, that didn’t mean Spitfire didn’t try to combine a string or two of choice words that left Surprise cackling her fluffy head off.
Her hoof shook with poorly restrained fury. Spitfire removed her shades and glared through amber eyes at Surprise, her temper boiling just beneath the surface. “You are going to write your cousin another letter,” she said, “you are going to tell her that this is all just a misunderstanding and a joke you’ve concocted with that cotton candy-addled brain of yours, and you’re going to do it yesterday or I can promise you I’m going to make your life Tartarus for the foreseeable future.”
Scoffing, Surprise rolled her eyes. “You’ve been using that threat on me for years, Cappy. I’m not afraid of cleaning the locker rooms for a few weeks!”
“Oh, really?” Spitfire gripped the edge of the table. “How’s a month of administrative duty sound? No flying. No travel. No parties. Just you, a small office, and piles and piles of nice, quiet, boring paperwork?”
Surprise flinched, drawing a relieved grin. Finally, all that smug, self-satisfied attitude was gone, and things were on Spitfire’s terms.
It was time to move in for the proverbial kill. Spitfire fixed Surprise with a half-lidded stare and a confident smirk. “That’s right, Surprise,” she said, practically crooning. “I don’t have to put it on record as a punishment for an out of duty offense, I can just stick you on administrative rotation again and again until I get tired of seeing you miserable.” Years of practice threatening rookies gave her the perfect wicked grin to add to the threat. “And you know how much I love making subordinates suffer.”
A visible shudder ran through Surprise. For a split second, Spitfire sat up straight and preened. She dared to believe she’d won.
But then Surprise set her jaw and shook her head. “Nope, sorry. Nice try though, Cappy.” The mischievous Staff Sergeant grinned defiantly. “Any other time, I might consider it, but I’m afraid it’s too late for take backs or ‘just kidding’ this time!”
Spitfire furrowed her brows. “Why’s that?”
Those blasted eyes gleamed again. Surprise’s cheeks puffed, she quickly clapped her hooves over her mouth to suppress her mirth.
Curious, Spitfire tilted her head. A demand for explanation was right on the tip of her tongue.
A hoof tapped her on the shoulder. Spitfire blinked several times and glanced at her shoulder, then back at Surprise. Her trusty Staff Sergeant promptly burst into outright laughter. She let her shoulders slump and silently cursed as she turned to greet the pony who’d barged in.
She found herself face to face with a grinning mare with pink coat and magenta mane, who looked disturbingly like Surprise. Close by this new mare’s side, however, was a sheepishly grinning mare of cyan coat and messy rainbow mane.
Rainbow Dash gave a shaky wave. “H-hey, Cap. You’ll, ah, never guess how my day’s gone.”
Spitfire clenched her eyes shut. “Surprise,” she ground out. “What did you do?”
“Meet my cousin, Pinkie Pie, Cappy!” Surprise tittered. “I told you we were gonna plan a party for our newest lovebirds, and we did! Everypony on the team—”
“—And all of our friends from Ponyville are here to celebrate!” Pinkie Pie finished.
With a defeated groan, Spitfire laid her head on the table and covered her face in her hooves to hide the bright red blush that spread across her cheeks. Their annoying, bubbly giggling made her ears twitch. She could hear her teammates’ laughing along with several other mares as they touched down on the fluffy clouds outside Capricci’s.
… I wonder if Rainbow would help me hide the bodies.
When asked just how they managed to turn the interior of Capricci’s into a barrage of colorful streamers, balloons, confetti, and multiple “Congratulations, Spitfire and Rainbow” banners hung from the ceiling, Pinkie Pie and Surprise both shared knowing smiles and waggled their ears before replying in near unison:
“Party cannons are magical things.”
Spitfire’s cheeks stung with the effort it took to maintain a plastic smile. Her insides felt like they were twisting and turning with each joke, every little judge of an elbow into her ribs while her blasted teammates slipped in snide comments about her new girlfriend—her younger, decidedly subordinate girlfriend.
“So, Spits,” Soarin said as he slung a hoof across her withers. A crooked smile played upon his lips. “I gotta know, how much of that disciplining Private Dash has been the real thing and how much has been disciplining?”
A heavy blush burned her cheeks. “I hardly think the latter is your business, Soarin,” she hissed. “But I’ll have you know we keep things strictly professional when we’re in uniform. And you know how I am with my standards all the way down the line, so don’t go there either.”
“Oh, I don’t doubt that. I’ve seen you run her workouts—you drill her harder than any of us!”
Almost on cue, Fleetfoot appeared at his side. She leaned against him, smiling coyly as she crooned, “Do you think she does it just so she can help rookie work out those muscles in the bedroom? Blaze had to learn those massage techniques from somewhere …”
Drawing in a deep breath through her nose, Spitfire forced herself to think happier thoughts. A nice, quiet flight in an open sky, with Rainbow at her side. Maybe they were on their way to another picnic in the plains between Ponyville and Cloudsdale. Or perhaps they were taking the scenic route to Manehattan or Baltimare, with a trip to the beach in mind. Yes, that would be quite nice. Just the two of them, away from everything.
Her eyes wandered around the room in search of her wayward girlfriend. She noticed Blaze and Rapidfire chatting with Capricci himself over by the counter, Princess Twilight Sparkle talking with that apple farmer who sold Soarin pies every now and again, but no Rainbow.
A flash of rainbow mane caught her eye. Spitfire craned her neck to see over the top of Wave Chill’s head, and allowed herself a small smile when she finally found Rainbow caught by Pinkie, Surprise, and a pair of ponies she vaguely recognized as their friends. Her girlfriend’s face was tinged a dusty red, her ears pinned back and feathers twitched as she struggled to answer, which only drew laughter from her captors.
“Gonna have to put this on hold, guys,” Spitfire muttered as she strode by Soarin and clipped him under the chin with a wing. “I spy a girlfriend who could use a little rescuing.”
“Of course.” Soarin rubbed his chin, his smile never abating. “Go save your little girlfriend and sweep her right off her hooves!”
“Make sure you give her a big kiss, just like all the heroes in the stories!” Fleetfoot added.
Spitfire’s ear twitched. She shot the pair a stern glare out of the corner of her eye, to which they simply grinned in reply. With a sigh, she pressed on. They were far too comfortable teasing her. And why shouldn’t they? Dating Rainbow gave them all the ammunition they needed.
It was worth the trouble, of course. But it gave them an opening to counter her carefully crafted and maintained control of her spot at the head of the flock.
And, sadly, I can’t blame them for it, she thought as she eyed Surprise through the crowd. But I’m sure I can find a way to make sure certain parties don’t think they’ll get to take liberties.
As she weaved her way through the crowd, Spitfire had to wonder just how Rainbow’s friends reacted. Or, more to the point, how they figured out that Surprise hadn’t just done a little camera trickery like the tabloids.
Her girlfriend would just have to pull double duty: sympathetic ear and primary informant.
Spitfire drew close, just in time to catch Rainbow whining and stomping a hoof against the floor like a petulant filly. “Fluttershy!” she cried. “Not you too!”
“But that picture of you two snuggled together on a picnic blanket was adorable!” Fluttershy cooed, fluffing her butter yellow wings. “I knew you liked to cuddle at sleepovers, but I never imagined—”
“Don’t say it! I do not cuddle!” Spitfire had to stifle a grin as she noticed the blush spreading across Rainbow’s face and tinging her ear tips. Rainbow shook her head, her prismatic mane whipped back and forth. “I am way too awesome to cuddle!”
Oh, are you now? Spitfire mused just as Surprise grinned and sang, “That’s not what the camera says!”
“Ugh! Surprise, why?” Rainbow whined. “I’m never gonna hear the end of this now—and don’t you even think of starting up again, Rarity!” she snapped, shooting a glare at a smirking unicorn.
“But, Rainbow, darling,” the mare purred, her tone drawing a shiver down Spitfire’s spine, “Fluttershy is only telling the truth. You and the good Captain look positively adorable all huddled together like that. Why, it’s almost like something out of one of my Prench novellas!” She paused a beat, a vulpine smile spread across her face. “You haven’t been sneaking them from my bookshelf, have you?”
“No! I never—not a chance!”
“It would explain so much, though! And you have been coming by for tea quite often lately, and always asking for tips on how to style your tail.”
Now, there’s something. Loathe though she was to pass up an opportunity to watch her girlfriend sputter and blush, Spitfire stepped up and threw a wing across Rainbow’s withers. “’Scuse me, ladies,” she said. “I’m gonna have to steal my girlfriend away for a couple minutes.”
Rainbow perked up and leaned into her embrace, and gave a soft, contented hum. Her feathers fluffed and tail swished merrily. She was happy.
She felt secure.
“Well, well, the mare of the hour,” Rarity drawled. “I must confess, I find myself perplexingly surprised, yet unsurprised that Rainbow would be dating you, Spitfire.”
“Oh, yeah?” Spitfire arched her brow. “Why’s that?”
Rarity’s eyes gleamed like sapphires. “Because as seemingly obvious as it is that she’d seek out another athletic pony for a partner, some of the things she’s asked me about have me quite taken aback.”
“Such as?”
“Well,” she said, leaning in as if to share a secret, “let’s just say a little birdie—” Spitfire flinched at the choice of wording, but Rarity either missed it or paid it no mind “—told me that she wanted mane and tail care tips in order to catch the eye of a strapping pegasus with a penchant for taking charge in—”
“Rarity! I swear to Celestia, if you finish that sentence, I’ll tell you-know-who that you fantasize about you-know-what!” Rainbow shrieked, the dusty pink tinge had bloomed and turned a fiery red, anger and embarrassment shining naked in her eyes.
Rarity shut her mouth with an audible click. She thought a moment, and a slow smile spread across her muzzle. “Rainbow, darling? Do you remember that time you watched the Crusaders for a weekend, then sent them to my house hopped up on sugar and caffeine?”
Rainbow wilted. “Y-Yeah?”
“The dish is cold. I’m serving it.”
A mare after my own heart, Spitfire praised. Aloud, she coughed and asked, “So what did this birdie—” she turned to fix Rainbow with a half-lidded stare “—tell you?”
The defeated whimper Rainbow let out was music to her ears. She’d found the little birdie all right. And this little birdie didn’t have an escape route once this party was done.
Which left her with one question: How do I remind my smoking hot, adorably squirmy girlfriend what we mean when we agree to keep things quiet until everything settles?
Spitfire trotted into her apartment in the Hurricane District with an amused smile playing on her lips, and a blushing, fidgeting Rainbow Dash under her wing. Humming a jaunty tune, she kicked the door shut behind them and deftly flipped the latch so they could enjoy a little time together before they retired and not have to worry about getting up to lock the door.
Which, naturally, meant plenty of time to poke and prod the “little birdie” who all but gave the game away to her friends in Ponyville.
She led Rainbow over to the couch and gestured for her to take a seat. “Some party, eh?” she asked, raising a brow. “Every one of our friends in one place.”
Rainbow did as told, forcing a smile as she gave a nervous chuckle. “Am I in trouble?”
“Not in the ‘Captain is going to scream at you’ sense. But this does warrant a talk.” With a sigh, Spitfire sat beside Rainbow. She ran her feathers along her girlfriend’s side as a comforting gesture before she wrapped her up tight again. “I thought we were trying to be discreet for a while, Rainbow. What happened?”
Letting out a low, uncertain whine, Rainbow fidgeted. “I didn’t mention you by name or anything,” she said softly, “I just asked for tips because I don’t really know how to style or care for my tail outside my normal look. All I know is flying and weather. Heck, most of the time, I just shake out the water when I step out of the shower and let the wind dry me off when I do my morning run.” Her ears drooped, she glared at the floor. “Didn’t think Rarity would use it for ammo.”
Spitfire chuckled and patted Rainbow’s shoulder. “Yeah, friends have a knack for holding that sort of stuff for later on, especially close ones.” So, completely innocent questions a mare would usually ask her friends, combined with those dang pictures. Doesn’t take a genius to put two and two together. She gave a mirthless snort. No wonder they jumped right on the bandwagon and didn’t question whether or not those pictures were real.
She brought her free hoof up to rub between her eyes. “Oh, Rainbow, what am I going to do with you?” she asked playfully.
Rainbow ducked her head. “Laugh it off, love me, and let me off the hook?”
Spitfire burst out laughing. Her shoulders shook, she leaned against Rainbow’s side and buried her face in the younger mare’s shoulder. Wrapping Rainbow in a one-hoofed hug, she leaned up and planted a kiss on her cheek, then whispered, “Not a chance.”
Another whine. Rainbow sagged in her grasp. “So … I’m in trouble?”
“Trouble?” Spitfire wrinkled her snout. “Rainbow, if I were mad, I wouldn’t be laughing. You’ve seen me mad, for Celestia’s sake. I scream, throw my goggles, and shred my voice when I’m mad. Right now, I’m …” she trailed off, rolling a hoof through the air in search of the word. “Well, I’m annoyed with Surprise, and I’m working out how I’ll get her back for this, but I’m not mad at you.”
“So, I’m not in trouble?”
Not the sort of trouble you’re thinking of, Spitfire mused, licking her lips as an idea came to her, but you’re definitely not off the hook. “No, you’re not.”
“Sweet!” Rainbow shot into the air and pumped her hoof.
Chuckling, Spitfire reached up and yanked her back down to the couch by her tail. “Not so fast,” she chided. “We still need to talk about this whole thing.”
Rainbow rubbed her backside. “What’s there to talk about? Everypony on the team seems cool with us dating.”
“Yes, but take a step back and think for a moment. How did they find out?”
“Uh, Surprise took a few pictures and passed them around. So what?” She shrugged. “Not like it’s that big a deal. Anypony could—oh.” Her face paled as the realization hit. “Anypony could’ve seen us,” she whispered, her eyes as wide as dinner plates.
Spitfire grimaced, but nodded once. “Yeah, we’re lucky it was Surprise. Much as I’m going to enjoy making her life miserable for a few weeks after that little display, this is a wakeup call.”
Rainbow squirmed in her seat. “Is this going to cause problems?”
“No, but it’s going to mean more work for me.” Sighing, she ran a hoof through her mane. “Either I have to show that I’m harder on you than I am on the others—”
“You already do that in practice,” Rainbow cut in, a hint of amusement flashing in her eyes. “Even Fleetfoot’s said you’re all over me like a know-nothing cadet.”
“Because I know you’ve got the talent and will, now shush.” Spitfire nudged her gently. “But either that or I’m going to have to take a few administrative steps to ensure that there’s a visible disconnect between you and me when it comes to discipline, or at least that I can be overruled by other officers. Not to mention, I literally can never go to bat for you to become an officer, if that’s your goal. It’ll have to come from one of the others. In short, we have to walk a tightrope with our wings bound.” She gave a tired smile and pecked Rainbow’s cheek. “But I’m not gonna fly off because of it, if that’s what you’re asking.”
Rainbow let out a deep sigh as a relieved smile spread across her face. “Okay. Good. Awesome, even.” Her feathers fluffed and twitched like a nervous filly standing before her crush. “So … we’re cool?”
“Yeah, we’re cool. Well,” she trailed off, slowly turning to get into position to pounce, “there is one little piece of business left to take care of.”
“Huh? What else is—eep!”
Quick as a flash, Spitfire pinned Rainbow to the couch. With a smoldering grin, she loomed over her girlfriend and drew in close. “So, little birdie,” she purred, “you went sharing confidential information with a civilian, eh?” She stole a quick kiss. “Captain Spitfire is going to have to discipline you for that, I’m afraid,” she whispered softly, her lips brushed against Rainbow’s.
Cyan coat tinged bright red. Rainbow’s ears stood up straight, a hint of a whimper crept into her voice—a whimper of need rather than fear, “I-I thought you said I wasn’t in trouble?”
“I said I wasn’t angry,” Spitfire corrected. She moved to trail kisses and nips up Rainbow’s cheek, cutting a slow path toward her girlfriend’s ear that left the younger mare squirming and gasping for breath. Pausing a moment, she rubbed their cheeks together as she whispered, “But Captain Spitfire never said you were off the hook for sharing relationship secrets, Private. So, you’ll be reprimanded and disciplined very.” She nipped just below Rainbow’s ear. “Very.” Her tongue teased the outer lobe, drawing a shuddering moan. “Thoroughly.”
Spitfire felt Rainbow’s cheeks move as her lips tugged into a smile. With an approving hum, she trailed kisses along until she could look into her girlfriend’s eyes again, stopping when their noses were only a hair’s breadth apart. “I believe you’re familiar with my favored method of disciplining, Private,” she purred. “We’ll begin immediately.”
A wobbly grin nearly split Rainbow’s face, her cheeks were colored as bright red as the stripe in her mane. Her tail thrashed back and forth, she ducked until her chin touched her chest and gave a shy squeak, “Meep.”
“Yeah.” Spitfire slowly licked her nose, then dotted it with a kiss. “Meep sounds just about right.”