Half-awake and half-drunk, Fluttershy stumbled out of the restroom.
“Oooh, I hope he’s okay. Mr. Seal wasn’t even here… At least I feel better.” Walking down the hall, she noticed a variety of paintings along the walls, some of them a bit scary, some of them beautiful. Art was a secret passion of hers, but she wasn’t in the right state to truly appreciate it. After a few minutes she opened the door to the room that she had been provided and laid back down on the bed. The only thing she could think about at the moment was going back to sleep. Her head pounded, which made it even easier for the lack of her bed companions to go unnoticed.
“Your team put on a most admirable show, Spitfire. I thank all of you for your service tonight. I am sure you would have much prefered attending as guests,” Princess Celestia said, leading the performers down one of the castle corridors.
“I’m pretty certain my team prefers flying over hobnobbing with the elites, Your Highness,” Spitfire replied, to the mutterings of agreement behind her.
“Understandably so,” Celestia replied. “In any case, I have reserved one of the larger rooms for you all to stay in. With so many guests staying at the castle tonight, I felt it fair for you all to be together so you could discuss your performance. That is something that is usually done after a show, am I correct?”
“Indeed it is, Your Highness. Thank you,” Spitfire answered with a nervous smile.
Celestia smirked. “Have no fear, Captain. You shall all have your own beds.”
Spitfire sighed with relief. “Thank you, Your Highness. It can be rather… strange needing to sleep with a teammate.”
Celestia chuckled. “I can imagine.” She stopped in front of one of the doors and turned to the team. "I do hope a palace suite will be adequate quarters for your team for a night?"
“Thank you, Your Highness,” the whole of the Wonderbolts said in unison.
“You are most welcome. Thank you once again for a spectacular performance.” She nodded to the team of flyers as they entered the room, then walked back down the hall in the direction from whence she came. On her way, she came across a mint-green unicorn, looking back and forth at the walls with utter confusion.
“Are you lost, my little pony?” Celestia asked.
“Your Highness!” the unicorn exclaimed, dipping into a bow before rising to speak again. “Um, yes, I am.”
Celestia nodded. “Lyra Heartstrings, if I am correct? Your musical performance tonight was exquisite.”
“Y-yes, Your Highness. Thank you,” Lyra responded, blushing. “I… I’m looking for a room.”
“Most of the guest rooms are down this corridor. If they are occupied, there will be a sign on—”
“Ummm, actually… I’ve been asked to give a private… uhh, concert.” Lyra paused, rubbing the back of her mane. “I’m looking for Princess Luna’s room.”
“Not bad, team,” Spitfire began, as she slipped out of her uniform. “Sounds like Princess Celestia was impressed. Seems all that extra practice paid off—I’m proud of you.”
“Thanks, Cap!” Soarin replied, stepping out of his own suit. “Gotta say, you put us through the ringer the past few weeks, but it was worth it!”
“You bet your flank it was worth it!” Wave Chill commented, stretching out his wings.
“Yeah, I probably would’ve fallen straight out of the air after that last maneuver if I hadn’t built my stamina up during those workouts,” Fire Streak added.
Spitfire let out a short laugh. “Well, I’m glad you approve! Looks like we’ll be using some of those practice techniques more often to keep you colts in shape!” The stallions all groaned. “Hey, you were asking for it and you know it!”
“Hey, Spitfire? Looks like we’ve got an unexpected roommate,” Fleetfoot called from the far end of the room.
“What are you talking about, Fleet?” Spitfire crossed over to her teammate and saw a lump under the sheets of the last bed in the room. “Oh. Did Princess Celestia bring us to the wrong room?”
“I doubt it,” Fleetfoot answered. “This place is pretty big—I dunno how many rooms like this there would be. Then again, the castle’s huge, so I could be wrong.”
Spitfire slowly lifted the sheets to reveal the sleeping pony, only to flinch at the sight. “Isn’t this one of the bearers? The Element of Kindness? What’s she doing in here?” she whispered.
Looking over the dozing pegasus, Fleetfoot chuckled, “Looks like she’s sleeping, Cap’n.” When Spitfire put up a hoof and shushed her, Fleetfoot responded, “I don’t think you need to worry about it, Cap’n. She’s out like a light—I didn’t even hear her stir while we were chatting. I just happened upon the lump.”
“Good point,” Spitfire said. “But if Princess Celestia reserved this room for us, how did Fluttershy get in here?”
Fleetfoot smirked. “I have a feeling she stumbled in here in a drunken stupor. I’ve seen that look before.” Fleetfoot pointed at Fluttershy’s sprawled figure, along with her tongue lolling out of her mouth.
Spitfire cocked a brow. “You sure? From what I know about her when Ponyville had water duty, Fluttershy doesn’t seem like the type to drink.”
“Hey, we’re at the Grand Galloping Gala. If there’s any occasion to let your mane down and have a few, I’d say tonight would be the night, no matter how ‘proper’ it’s supposed to be,” Fleetfoot responded, waving a hoof in the air. “If Miss ‘Shy here isn’t a drinker, then she probably doesn’t know her limit. I have a feeling she overdid herself.”
“Yeah, I guess that’d make sense. We should probably wake her up, though,” Spitfire said.
“Why?” Fleetfoot asked. “She’s sleeping like a foal. You really want to disturb her?”
“Well, aside from the fact that she’s taking up one of the beds—”
“Oh c’mon, Cap’n. Maybe it’s uncomfortable sleeping in the same bed as a teammate, but Fluttershy here isn’t a teammate. If you’re that sensitive about it, I’ll take—”
“Let me finish, Fleet,” Spitfire interrupted. “Unless she went through some big change, Fluttershy is one of the most timid ponies I’ve ever seen. If she wakes up with another pony that she didn’t see before, she’s likely to have a heart attack.”
“Ah,” Fleetfoot replied. “I see your point. Then yeah, maybe we should wake her.”
“Hey Cap, everything okay?” Soarin asked, as he and Wave Chill approached the two mares.
“Yeah, it’s okay. I think we need to find an empty room for this one, though,” Spitfire said, bobbing her head toward Fluttershy.
“She taking up a bed?” Wave Chill asked.
“Well, yes, but that’s not why,” Fleetfoot answered. “The Cap’n and I already discussed it—let’s find her another room.”
“Find who another room?” Fire Streak questioned as he cantered over.
“The Element of Kindness,” Soarin chuckled. “Here, get ‘er on my back. I was gonna… head to the little colts’ room anyway—I’ll find another room on my way.” He walked up alongside Fleetfoot and spread out his wings.
“Sounds like a plan,” Spitfire said. “You got her, Fleet?”
“Yep.” Fleetfoot nudged Fluttershy gently in the side. “Miss Fluttershy? Hello?” Fluttershy giggled at the prod to her ribs, but otherwise stayed put. “Okay, that’s not gonna work.”
“Here, I’ll give you a hoof.” Fire Streak trotted to the opposite side of the bed and lifted up Fluttershy’s head with a wing. As Fleetfoot put a hoof underneath it, Fluttershy hummed and turned over in her sleep, grabbing Fleetfoot and dragging her onto the bed with a smile. Fleetfoot looked imploringly at her captain, who simply said, “Well, that didn’t go as planned.”
“Clearly,” Wave Chill commented. “Need another hoof?”
“That would be helpful,” Fleetfoot answered, still held in Fluttershy’s grasp.
“Well, I don’t wanna yank on ya— let’s try something simple.” Wave Chill took a wing and started tickling Fluttershy under the chin, causing her to loosen her grip and giggle again. Fleetfoot took the opportunity to slip out from the shy pegasus’s clutches. Wave Chill smirked. “Somethin’ my Pop taught me.”
Spitfire nodded. “That’s all well and good, but we still need to get her out of the bed. I don’t think we’re gonna wake her, after seeing that little show. I don’t want to be too aggressive, though.”
“True,” Wave Chill said. “Maybe we could gently drag her off the foot of the bed?”
“Worth a try,” Soarin answered, trotting to a new position.
As Wave Chill gently pulled on Fluttershy’s rear hooves, she turned over onto her back, then without warning, kicked her hooves straight up, launching Wave Chill into the air. “Wah!” he cried, quickly extending his wings, allowing himself to slow his descent back to the floor. “Woah. That filly’s stronger than she looks! That was quite a buck!” he said, rubbing his sides.
“Hey, Cap? I hate to bail right now, but I really do need to, uhh, hit the rooms,” Soarin said. “Can I help when I get back?”
“Yeah, go ahead,” Spitfire answered. “Last thing we need is an accident.”
“Thanks, Cap. I’ll be back soon. Good luck,” Soarin said, trotting out of the room.
Spitfire glanced back at Fluttershy, her rear hooves now hanging off the foot of the bed. “Here, maybe I can handle this. Bring her this way.” She slipped a wing under Fluttershy’s legs and walked to one side of the bed as Fleetfoot proceeded to guide her onto the captain’s back from the other side. “There you go, Fleet, keep it up.”
“Careful she doesn’t buck again,” Wave Chill commented.
“Believe me, I’m trying,” Fleetfoot said as she climbed on top of the bed. No sooner had she said it, Fluttershy turned back over in Fleetfoot’s direction and grabbed her barrel with a little hum, pulling them both to the mattress. “Well, isn’t she persistent,” Fleetfoot deadpanned. “Is it even worth it?”
Spitfire began, “Well, we don’t want her to—”
“If she wakes up and screams, I’ll tell her what happened. I seriously doubt she’ll think I took advantage of her. Frankly, I’m too tired to deal with this. Just go to bed and leave me be.” Fleetfoot sighed. “At least I’m already out of my gear.”
“Well, if you’re sure, Fleet. Have a good rest,” Spitfire said with a shrug. “At least you’re sleeping with somepony we can trust.”
“Yeah, and not somepony trying to get on the team,” Fire Streak chuckled.
Fleetfoot glared at him from her pinned position. “Are you implying something? Any nasty thoughts you’ve got in that sick brain of yours better get outta there before I buck ‘em out!”
Fire Streak and Wave Chill both laughed. “Sorry, Fleet, couldn’t resist,” Fire Streak said.
“Besides, you know we screen for that kind of stuff,” Spitfire said. As the teammates climbed into their respective beds, Spitfire looked toward the door. “Where the hay is Soarin? You’d think he’s using the damn bathroom as his office…”
“Hey, sometimes even stallions can take awhile,” Wave Chill retorted, “but I bet he really left to go chase some tail,” he said, waggling his eyebrows.
“Well, if he comes in late and wakes me up, he’s doing fifty wing-ups, minimum.”