//------------------------------// // 108 The Spark and the Flame // Story: Continuity Disrupted // by Doug Graves //------------------------------// “No. Bucking. Way.” Spitfire slams down her glass of cider, now empty, before glaring wingblades at Doug. She has stripped out of her flight suit, Doug from his jacket, sitting around the table they dragged to the top of the Carrot House. Fire Streak watches on, an amused look on his face, taking a drink of his apple juice every now and then as he watches Rainbow zip back and forth, daring one of the Wonderbolts to keep pace. “I don’t believe it.” Doug raises his hands in mock surrender, chuckling regardless of how contrite Spitfire thinks he should be. “Sorry! I mean, I can get Applejack here to-” “No!” Spitfire grits her teeth, the tip of a feather tracing a line along one of the cracks in the weathered apple wood. “I don’t need the Element of bucking Honesty to tell me you’re making this all up.” She stares at the bottom of her glass before she slides it across the table, joining a dozen of its brethren. Or at least the bottles they came from. "Whatever." She turns to glare at Fire Streak. “Please tell me you don’t believe that the only ponies that have flown faster than this flightless human are Wonderbolts!” Her wing beckons, though she doesn’t bring herself to look at Doug. “Not under my own power!” Doug interjects with a wave of his hand, Spitfire rolling her eyes. A loud ‘ksshh’ rings as he pops the cap on a bottle of cider, handing it to Spitfire’s waiting wing. He pulls out another, a questioning look at Streak. “Sorry,” Streak apologizes again, shaking his head. Spitfire huffs as she bangs her glass on the table. Streak sighs, but he can already tell where this is going to end up. “At least one of us should keep our head in the air.” “Oh, psssh, you’re going to retire soon anyway,” Spitfire slurs out. “And Doug won’t let anything happen.” She gives him a long wink, licking her lips before the glass hides her smirk. “Well, nothing we don’t want to happen.” The amber liquid hits her lips, downing a third of the glass before dropping it back to the table, the cider sloshing around. “You might as well develop a taste for hard cider now, or it’ll be a real kick when those dirtheads start blowing.” “You know they like it when you call them that,” Streak replies, hesitating before he takes an open bottle of sweet cider. He swishes the liquid back and forth, swallowing with a dry smile. Maybe he will end up trying some of the stronger stuff. “And they should!” Spitfire looks outside, watching Rainbow Dash and Silver Zoom line up for yet another set of wind sprints. “New students should learn to overcome any challenge. Puts feathers on your wings.” She smirks. “Especially when they eat it.” She goes silent as the two pegasi race and back and forth, over and over and over until Rainbow’s wing spasms, dirtying the rainbow mane as she crashes into the dirt. “Hah!” Fire Streak exclaims, snatching Spitfire’s cider and taking a swig. “Score another point for the stallions!” He grins at the taste, raising the glass for another drink. “Yeah, well,” Spitfire glowers as she grabs her glass back, swirling the liquid and watching Rainbow pick herself up from the dirt, spitting bits of brown. Misty Fly and Soarin line up between the two apple trees, readying themselves as Scootaloo drops a flag. They take off the moment it touches the ground, blazing back and forth. “You know she’s going to want to see you out there,” Fire Streak says cautiously, finishing the last of his cider and standing up. “It’s not her seeing me that I’m worried about,” Spitfire says with a glance at Doug, a slight grimace at the human being in on the conversation. Fire Streak continues regardless, “And if she beats any of us, especially our fearless leader, she’s going to have recourse. You know what-” “I know what she said!” spits out Spitfire, glaring at Fire Streak. “That’s why I’m letting our best sprinters tire her out.” She downs the rest of her cider before spinning on Doug. “And you better not breathe a word of this to her.” Doug shrugs, folding his arms in front of him. Spitfire cracks her neck as she backs away from the table. Her wings spread out, her forelegs low to the ground as her flanks raise. “After twenty two you’re going to hit me with a burst of turb.” Spitfire glances to Streak. “Got it?” Streak rolls his eyes, “Whatever you say, Ma’am. Don’t blame me when she catches on.” Spitfire snorts as the two take to the air, flying over to the starting line. Doug grabs a few ciders as Misty Fly beats Soarin, the stallion slumping down next to Rainbow. Rainbow groans as she rests on the ground, trying to stretch her wing out. Her eyes brighten as Doug approaches, grunting as she gets to her hooves to grab one of the ciders. She eagerly pops the straw in her mouth, spinning around to ram her backside against him. “You know what to do,” she says as she waves her flank back and forth. “Tired already?” Doug says as he pushes Rainbow down, now straddling the pegasus. She merely slurps her cider louder, her wings flipping open and waving back and forth. Doug sighs, getting a second bottle in easy reach before his hands begin working their magic. “How’d the race go?” “There’s a reason these guys are the best,” Rainbow grunts out between slurps, a nod towards Soarin. “Oh, pony, you feel amazing.” “Heh, I can tell!” Soarin says, a cheeky grin on his face. He glances up as Doug turns to regard him. “Oh, uh, I meant to tell you. Sorry about getting angry with you before. I guess I just wasn’t expecting something so, I don’t know, hurtful when I saw my old friend.” “Yeah, it was a little uncalled for.” Doug leans over Rainbow, digging into the muscles right at the base of her wings. The pegasus twitches, a bit of cider dripping out of her gaping mouth. Doug reaches over, raising a fist to Soarin as Rainbow slowly recovers. “I, uh,” Soarin says as he bumps Doug’s fist with a hoof, “don’t suppose you want to try those hands out on me? Looks like they’re working wonders over there.” “Hey!” Rainbow objects, turning up to glare at Soarin. “He’s my personal masseur!” Rainbow wriggles underneath Doug, trying to get him to restart his massage. “Aww,” Soarin says, giving his own tired wings a pathetic flap. “We have our own, but he’s not nearly as good. Besides, he’s not here. I’m sure you can share.” “Only for you, Soarin,” Rainbow says with a heavy grunt. She bucks up a little bit as Spitfire takes a tumble into the ground next to them. The yellow mare looks up at the two, more than a little bit dazed, as Rainbow sighs. “Aww, you lost?” “Happens to the best of us, kid,” Spitfire says as Rainbow takes to the air, lining up against Misty Fly. Spitfire raises an eyebrow as Doug mounts Soarin, grabbing hold of the light blue wing and starting slowly. “Hey, are you giving out massages? I call the next one!” “I’m just getting passed around over here,” Doug says with a chuckle. “So, did you all know Rainbow growing up? I heard she was quite the speedster in her youth.” “Little twerp didn’t know how to turn, either,” Spitfire says as she sidles up to Doug. “Her parents believed in her something fierce, though. Came to every one of our meets, loudest group of fans in the stands.” She rubs her ear subconsciously, “You probably heard them out in the stadium today, clear across and above a thousand others.” “Those were some good times,” Soarin says between groans. “Heh, remember when she was beating you for fastest filly?” “She was beating you, too.” Spitfire bumps her flank into Doug’s leg, the human kicking her back. “Couldn’t stand it then.” Spitfire winces as Rainbow takes another dive into the dirt, Misty Fly apologetically shrugging down at them. “Never gave up, though.” Her voice drops to a whisper as Doug hops off Soarin, her wings spreading out as he kneels down next to her. “That’s what makes this so hard.” “Makes what so hard?” Doug says quietly, glancing at Rainbow, his hands sliding across her back and wings. Spitfire turns, hiding her face from Doug. “Stupid cider. Made me say too much already.” She groans as his hands slip under her wings, the damp fur rubbing off on his hands. “Just, don’t say anything to her, okay?” “Sure,” Doug says, “but I still don’t know what you’re talking about.” “Maybe it’s better that way.” Spitfire goes quiet as Rainbow picks herself back up, though her wings don’t look like they are in as bad shape this time. She watches as Rainbow takes to the air, grim determination to beat at least one of the Wonderbolts in the exhausting workout. Fire Streak faces off against her this time, neither giving an inch as they take off. “Suit yourself,” Doug says, finally feeling like Spitfire is relaxing under his hands. The two sit in silence as they watch yet another faceoff Rainbow comes in a close second, Soarin nearly dropping out of the sky in front of her. Doug calls out, a bit of worry tingeing his voice, “You okay over there, Rainbow?” “Best day ever!” Rainbow grunts out from the dirt, rooting around for another glass of cider. “I get to fly against the Wonderbolts! I don’t care if I end up in the hospital, it’ll be totally worth it.” “Flying like you are? I’m impressed it hasn’t happened already. You’ve got guts, Rainbow Dash.” Spitfire slips out from under Doug, winking at him as her tail flips to the side. “Maybe you want to get a quick recharge before you face off against your hardest opponent yet?” “Pssh, that’d be Fleetfoot, but she isn’t here.” Rainbow grins at Spitfire’s groan. She finishes off her cider, though she waves Doug off. “Nah, I’ll be good. Can’t rely on you too much, you know?” “Sure,” Doug says, a short wave as Rainbow takes off. Fire Streak lands next to him, his goggles coming off to better look Doug in the eye. “Never imagined Rainbow Dash ending up with somepony like you.” “Oh? You wanted to snatch her up?” Doug says with a wink. Fire Streak chuckles, “Heh. Nah, too much of a mouth for me. Back then, at least." He glances towards the Wonderbolt Academy, much further than Cloudsdale. "If she’d have me, I’d go for High Winds. That is, whenever she retires.” He motions towards Misty Fly, “She’s probably my second choice, but I don’t think it’ll happen. I mean, I doubt any of the other mares are retiring soon. Or going into teaching, like me. But, whichever one I happen to snag first, I guess.” “Just one choice?” Doug says, his hand scratching his chin. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but somehow I imagined there’d be all sorts of, I don’t know, relationships spawned among you all.” Fire Streak grins. “And Spitfire’s probably the worst, haven’t had a hotshot model like her as Captain in years. Doesn’t do anything to quench the rumors, either, but it ain’t like that. Officially, it doesn’t happen. Unofficially, as long as it never interferes with a show, and you’re extra cautious come March? Well, once we retire, it’s pretty common for a single pairing to herd up. Rarely more. Gotta keep new blood coming in, you know? Can't make it seem like we're only the foals of alumni, even if that happens pretty regularly.” “Seems like a long time to wait,” Doug remarks, sipping on his own cider. “Rainbow’s been applying for, shoot, seven years now? More?” Fire Streak nods. “Well, being a Wonderbolt, while it’s a bunch of prestige, doesn’t leave a lot of time for raising a family. All the travel, shows, practices.” He glances around the farm, then up at the balloon slowly descending. “And it seems like you, and Rainbow for that matter, put a lot of emphasis on family.” His gaze ends on Scootaloo, the filly busily keeping track of how many laps back and forth everypony has done. “I’d hate for Rainbow to lose sight of that chasing a dream in the sky.” “Yeah, I guess so,” Doug says as Rainbow takes a sixth and final dive into the dirt, her euphoric grin never fading.