//------------------------------//
// Dashie, Please Come Home 
// Story: Winging It 
// by Adderbane 
//------------------------------//

Quibble tipped a carefully measured cup of rice into the bubbling soup pot.  After giving it a quick stir, he nudged the stove dial with a hoof to bring things down to a nice simmer.

Three days ago Rainbow had been called out by the Wonderbolts to deal with a massive winter storm bearing down on Manehattan from the wastes around the Crystal Empire.  Last he'd heard, the huge operation involving hundreds of pegasi had been a resounding success and the wild weather had been scattered to the four winds.  Although there were rumors of a parade for their cloud-busting saviors, Rainbow and many others had elected to head home straightaway.  The incident had already taken far too much time out of ponies' busy pre-holiday schedules.  Given his knowledge of Rainbow's flight capabilities, Quibble estimated she'd fly through the door within the hour, and he'd be a poor husband if he didn't have a hot meal ready for her when she did.  A few bowls of his cabbage soup would be just the thing after a long, cold flight.

A fresh cloth was draped over their small table.  Bowls and spoons in place.  A small mountain of freshly shredded cheddar to be sprinkled on the soup.  Some hearty bread ready for a quick warm in the oven the moment she arrived.  Her favorite tea with sugar already measured in the mug.  And to top in all off, a pair of candles on the table to give the room some cozy lighting.  All perfect.

Quibble stepped to the window, and though the sun had set and he couldn't see very far at all, he sat down to wait.

A half-hour passed.

Then a full one.

Quibble checked the soup and reduced the heat as far as he could without turning the burner off.

Another hour.

Quibble replaced the candles, but didn't light the new ones just yet.

Still no Rainbow.

Now Quibble really started to worry.  He couldn't remember if Rainbow had been traveling alone or not.  Surely Spitfire, or one of the other 'bolts would've been with her.  They might've ran into bad weather and stopped to lend a hoof to a village in need or something.  They could've detoured to check out the lights of Canterlot by night, or stopped in at Cloudsdale (currently north of the capital) to report.

Quibble continued to wait.

Tank had gone into hibernation a few weeks ago, so he didn't even have the tortoise's silent company.  Quibble hummed some hearthswarming carols to break the silence.  He got to one that really needed a duet part and stopped.  It was definitely cold outside.

Another hour, another nervous pace around the house.

Quibble built a fire in the hearth and threw back the curtains in every room, turning the house into a beacon of light in the dark.  She'd appreciate that when she arrived.

She didn't arrive.

Quibble bundled himself up in boots coat and scarf.  He penned a quick note just in case Rainbow got home just when he left.  At the bottom of the house was a small room was a small room with a large basket.  He climbed aboard and began the long process of winching himself down to the ground.  Turning the wheel with his teeth in the cold was a rather unpleasant experience.  Getting to the ground and finding snow up to his knees was even worse.  Thankfully the crystalline castle glittering in the moonlight was impossible to miss.

Much floundering through snowbanks later, he rapped softly on the doors.  It didn't take long to open.  He peered inside, then down.

"Oh, hi Spike."

"'Sup Quibble?" The dragon asked, yawning.

"Sorry if I woke you; I just wanted to know if you'd heard anything from Rainbow."

Spike yawned again and shook himself awake, "Nah, got that dragonfire letter when they left Manehattan, but nothing since.  Twi's a little worried too; I just finally got her into bed."

Quibble sighed, "Well, sorry for bothering you."

"It's fine; I was probably going to be up a while anyway."  Spike glanced past Quibble at the snowflakes fluttering down, "Want to hang here for a while? I make a mean hot cocoa. I think Starlight is up too.  She'd probably be down for playing some cards while you wait."

It was a tempting offer, but Quibble shook his head, "I've got to get back; dinner is still on the stove, and I don't want Rainbow to come home to an empty house..."

"Fair enough," Spike agreed, "I'll send you a scroll if I hear anything, but be careful out there."

Quibble snorted, "It's not that far back."

"Well, I certainly wouldn't want to go out in these conditions," Spike replied.  He grinned, "RD's lucky to have you.  Goodnight Quibble."

"Goodnight Spike."

The walk back was even more miserable, and he even had to dump snow out of the basket before going back up.  After shedding slush-soaked boots and coat, he surveyed the lonely room.

"I'm going to be awake when Rainbow gets home," he announced to the empty house, "Whatever it takes."

Quibble set a pot of coffee to brew and threw another log on the fire.  He took his post back by the window with renewed vigor.  When he felt his eyes starting to droop he fetched a book and a fresh cup.

The night dragged on, and his seat by the window grew colder.  So did his coffee.  

Quibble looked up at the moon.  What if Rainbow was stuck somewhere?  She was incredible, but that kind of weather work took a lot out of anypony.  Maybe she'd been forced to ground due to exhaustion, or drifted off course.  She could be stuck somewhere without food or friends, and there wasn't a thing he could due to help. 
Maybe she'd had to carve herself an impromptu igloo to survive. Maybe he shouldn't be reading Daring Do and the Windigo Vault at a time like this; he certainly didn't need help imagining horrible dangers out in the dark.

Quibble was out of coffee.  The soup had congealed into an awful cold mess.  He didn't know where he'd put the cheese (the fridge, he'd later discover when his head was more clear), and a chill was invading his window nook.

"I've got to stay awake," he mumbled, "I can't miss her getting home."

He rebuilt the fire, and pulled some blankets down to make a nest in front of it.  He took Rainbows pillow from the bed, and rested his chin on it.  It smelled like her.  She had to be alright.  If he stayed awake she would be.  Things were getting fuzzy.  He wasn't sure how long it'd been.  Was it morning yet? It had to be soon.

The fire was warm and everything else was cold.  He was alone and everything was wrong.  

A thud.

Hooves in the entryway.

A frost-rimmed nose pressed against his.

"Quibble?"

And everything was right again.

He lifted a corner of the blanket, and in a moment he was no longer alone under it. She was shivering.  He pressed his cheek against a cyan ear to melt the snowflakes clinging to it, "You're cold."

"You're warm."

Quibble pulled her close and made space on the pillow.  She tucked her head under his chin and wrapped a wing around him.

Quibble closed his eyes, and smiled, "You're home."