//------------------------------// // A Worrying Encounter // Story: Moments of Calm // by The Iguana Man //------------------------------// “Dammit!” Spitfire hissed, pressing her head against Fluttershy's wall painfully. “I'm so sorry, I should have been more careful, I...” “It's okay,” Fluttershy cut her off, smiling a little even as her eyes nervously darted to the window, in the direction of the pony they'd seen standing outside. Spitfire risked a quick glance herself, seeing that, yes, he was still there, his hat, a press card in its brim, and the notebook and pencil hovering in his magic signalling that this was either a reporter or someone posing as a reporter in order to get information. And when the ridiculously famous Captain of the Wonderbolts had just flown into the house of somepony who most would consider just a random mare, well, it wasn't hard to figure out what they were trying to investigate. And when said mare, despite her forays into modelling, singing and saving the world, had both tried and succeeded at keeping herself and her private life out of the public eye, that was not a desirable situation. However, Spitfire was distracted from that by the sound of Fluttershy moving towards the door. “What are...” “I'll talk to him,” Fluttershy assured her, almost managing to hide some of the apprehension on her face. “Hopefully, I can get him to leave.” Spitfire opened her mouth, her brain scrambling to find the words for just what a terrible idea this was, but it was too late – it seemed Fluttershy was attempting to move fast enough not to think about her nerves and she was out of the door before Spitfire could speak. Humming uncertainly, Spitfire moved to the window and peeked out slightly, raising an eye and an ear just enough to see and hear without broadcasting her presence. “Hello?” Fluttershy said as she approached the stallion. He started slightly, but didn't flee – a good sign. Generally, the most grubby of journalists were the ones who are very aware of that status so tried not to get spotted and fled when they were. Still, it wasn't enough to put Spitfire's mind at rest. “Good afternoon,” the stallion replied, putting on a professional smile. “I'm Ink Sling from the Canterlot Crier. I'm sorry to bother you, Miss...?” “Fluttershy.” Spitfire swallowed nervously when Fluttershy gave her name. Fortunately, while there was a flicker of recognition on Ink's face, he didn't seem to get caught up on it. “Right,” he continued, “well, you see, I couldn't help but notice Captain Spitfire come this way and... well, it seems like she might have gone into your house. Is there a... a reason for that?” “Are you sure it was her?” Fluttershy asked, before narrowing her eyes slightly, “were you following her?” Ink Sling laughed, not seeming to take the doubt personally. “Oh, believe me, you don't mistake a mare as famous as her for someone else. And... well, I wasn't stalking her, if that's what you mean, it's simply that, well... when you see one of the Wonderbolts, never mind the Captain, heading for the Everfree Forest... that tends to suggest something big's going down in there. Trust me, if it was just that she was here, I wouldn't worry, but the Everfree's got some nasty stuff in it, from what I hear.” Spitfire breathed a sigh of relief that at least this stallion hadn't come with the intent of gathering dirt on her, even if she still had no idea if he'd be willing to take it if it were presented. She looked out again, seeing Fluttershy open her mouth to respond, only for her heart to sink as the stallion cut her off. “Oh! Is that why she came to see you? Are you some sort of ranger or warden of the Everfree? Is she consulting with you about something?” “Um...” Fluttershy said, beginning to back off slightly. However, the stallion quickly stepped up to match her, his pencil hovering in eagerness to start writing. “Is there some monster or demon or threat to the world in there that needs dealing with? Is there someone trapped there and needing rescue? Is there some sort of expedition that's found something dangerous?” “I... er...” Fluttershy started shrinking into herself, a high-pitched whine starting to escape her mouth. The stallion didn't seem to notice. “Wow, this could be big, you and Spitfire could be heroes. Is ther-” “Enough!” Moving quicker than she could ever remember doing, Spitfire dashed out, skidding to a stop between the two and raising herself up to her full height, startling Ink Sling into falling back onto his haunch as she fixed her best glare onto him. “Listen, you little snoop, if you wanna be any kind of reporter, then using your eyes might be a good start! The lady's not comfortable with being grilled like that – I don't know who would be. Now, for your information, Miss Fluttershy here happens to be a close friend to one of the ponies under my command and I was here consulting with her about a matter related to them, that's all. And,” she added, internally satisfied at how much he was shrinking away from her, but not letting any of that show on her face, “when I say a 'matter', I mean a 'breach-of-every-kind-of-professional-and-military-ethics-to-discuss-with-press kind of matter, you got that?” “Yes!” Ink Sling squeezed his eyes tightly shut, seemingly only able to gain the courage to speak by doing so. “I...” “You what?” Spitfire asked, raising an eyebrow hard enough that it almost seemed like he felt it. “I'm sorry!” he answered, though with a little less terror than Spitfire had expected. “I... I got excited, I... I thought this could be my big break, I... I got carried away and didn't pay attention to how I was coming across, I...” he opened his eyes and, to Spitfire's surprise, looked past her and to Fluttershy. “I'm really sorry, Miss Fluttershy.”  “Oh! I, er...” Fluttershy stuttered, her hyperventilating beginning to abate but still nowhere near normal. Spitfire looked behind her, not wanting to take her eyes completely off the stallion but still feeling the need to help. “It's okay, Fluttershy, breathe!” Fluttershy locked eyes with her for a moment and, to Spitfire's amazement, seemed to get a hold of herself within that instant, her breathing slowing down a few moments later. “It... it's okay,” Fluttershy said finally. “I'm okay, you were just, well... a bit...” “I know, I'm sorry,” Ink Sling said with a pained nod. Spitfire looked intently at the stallion lying before her. He was obviously afraid of her but, even ignoring that, he did seem genuinely contrite and ashamed for what he'd done and, thinking about it, she could definitely understand the thought that her presence might mean big news. Plus, now she was able to take a longer look at him, she could see that Ink Sling was very young – probably twenty-one or twenty-two at the oldest.  She let out a long, aggravated sigh. “Get up, kid.” Ink Sling rocketed to his hooves as Fluttershy stepped forward. “Are you okay?” “Apart from coming all this way for nothing?” Ink Sling asked with a shrug as his shivering settled down. “I'm fine.” Spitfire raised an eyebrow. “So what are you gonna write?” Ink Sling snorted. “What's to write? 'Wonderbolt Captain Meets with Mare!', yeah, that's great copy.” He opened his mouth to continue before pausing, a thoughtful look coming to his face. “Actually, come to think of it, yeah, there are a whole load of ponies who'd write a story and make up a context for that and no shortage of gossip rags or conspiracy screeds that'd buy it, but not me.” Spitfire gave him a sardonic smirk, her eyebrow still up. “An ethical journalist?” Ink Sling let out a bitter, barking laugh. “Yeah, I know, a rare and dying breed, but we are out there. Plus, even if I wanted to, the paper'd never run it. And, to be honest, now that I think about it, they wouldn't even if I'd found a story. No photos, no evidence and only the word of one cub reporter sent on a back-page story about a town festival? Yeah, like the editor says, that kinda cow pie don't fly at the Crier.” He scuffed at the ground despondently. “So, yeah, I came here, neglected an hour of my assignment, made an ass of myself and screwed up the whole 'ethical' thing... all for no reason. Didn't know it was possible to fail that badly.” There was a long moment of silence as Spitfire looked down at the young stallion, evaluating everything she'd seen and heard. Eventually, she nodded. “Well, if it helps, I'd still rate you above most of the journalists I've met. You know, think I'll keep an eye out for your name, you seem like you got your heart in the right place, if not always your head.” She nodded towards the path back into town. “You can go, I'm not gonna do anything to you and,” she gave a quick glance to Fluttershy, asking for confirmation for what she was about to ask and being given it immediately, “neither is she.” Ink Sling began to turn before Spitfire interrupted him. “But...” As he turned back to her, she stepped forward and put her face right up to his, her eyes boring into him. “If I ever hear that Fluttershy's being harassed, either by you or someone who heard about her from you – and I will know if they did – then I'm grabbing your muzzle and that horn of yours and making a wish. You got that?” The stallion nodded with a slight whimper, turning the moment Spitfire stepped back and walking away, the shaking in his limbs making clear how hard he was having to concentrate to stop himself running like his tail was on fire. Nodding to herself, Spitfire began to turn away, only to remember her audience. Swallowing in terror at how much she might have scared Fluttershy, she turned to her. “I'm, er...” Fluttershy was staring at her in silent awe, her pupils wide and her cheeks blushing furiously. Spitfire let out an awkward laugh. “Let's, er... let's just get inside before anyone else turns up, huh?”