Friends have benefits
Chapter Eight: How Soarin learnt to stop worrying and love the pink.
“Acceptable?!” Soarin fumed, “I pulled a cloud apart in less than 30 seconds! She and Thunderlane are the only ones who can match that and she calls it 'acceptable'?” He slammed the door behind him and threw his goggles on the bench in frustration. For the second time that week, Rainbow Dash had criticised his performance despite the massive improvements he was making.
With winter just around the corner, the entire team had been flat out making preparations and Soarin found himself spending hours a day moving vast quantities of clouds from the weather factories in Cloudsdale to Ponyville or setting up large banks of snow clouds around town.
Hurricane, too interested in cleaning his claws paid his owner no heed.
“Yeah as if you’d care. As long as you’re fed and have a warm thing to steal warmth from you don’t care.” Soarin muttered glaring at the falcon. He shooed the bird off the lounge noticing with distaste the large amount of grey feathers around Hurricane’s small perch.
“The fact that you eat other birds is bad enough but would you mind a least eating them, ya know, somewhere else?”
Hurricane let out a quiet screech and started preening himself, happily oblivious to Soarin’s displeasure.
“Do you know what else happened today?” Soarin asked as if Hurricane was actually listening. “I got in a bet with Doc and Thunderlane. Loser had to provide a home-cooked dinner for the others. Naturally guess who lost? That’s right, me.”
Soarin threw a look at Hurricane who was still too busy preening himself to notice.
“So now those two are coming around for dinner tonight, now I know you don’t like guests but be polite.” Soarin said sternly “If you do what you did to that poor mail mare I will personally pluck you naked, stick you in a pot and feed you to the birds. I had to spend an hour convincing that poor thing it was safe to come out after you had your way with her.”
Hurricane clucked through his thick feathers, a gesture Soarin guessed either meant the falcon was amused or didn’t give a shit.
He still hadn’t quite figured that one out yet.
“Anyway, I have to go get some things for tonight, I’ll be back soon.” Soarin said, grabbing his saddlebags and opening the door again to leave.
While the falcon had bonded to Soarin like a newborn chick to its mother, Soarin still had reservations about the bird. Its tendency to leave half eaten pigeons at the front door was irritating but the Falcon’s indifference to everything around it not concerning itself and quick temper reminded Soarin surprisingly of himself. The bird had caused enough issues with Soarin that he had considered dumping it with the shy caretaker who had given the damn thing to him more than once, but Soarin could never bring himself to do it.
He was determined to learn how to tolerate it.
Stepping through another small field of feathers, Soarin dropped off the edge of his cloud home, eager to get the small trip over and done with. Turning towards the market, instinctively banking further than necessary to go around the gaudy bakery known as Sugarcube Corner and its resident mad baker.
‘Insane more like it.’ Soarin thought with a grimace as he remembered the somewhat mind-scarring party Pinkie had thrown for him.
‘At least I got to dance with Dash.’ Soarin concluded, trying to put a positive spin his dour thoughts. He and the prismatic mare were barely on speaking terms outside of work, even then she kept conversation short and to the point.
‘Well at least she actually sometimes talks to me. Better than nothing I suppose.’ He thought, rubbing his jaw where she had hit him almost a week ago. With a week to grapple over his feelings for her, Soarin had come to the gut-wrenching conclusion that he liked her. Only Celestia knew why, but he did. How he, or anypony for that matter, could find the horrendous egotistical mare attractive (Other than physically) remained a mystery to him.
Naturally, he hadn’t told her.
A tantalisingly fragrant smell reached his nostrils, pulling him out of his thoughts. Looking around for the source of the smell, Soarin noticed with alarm he was closer to Sugarcube Corner than he would have considered safe.
‘Much too close.’ he thought, alarm bells going off in his head. It was almost as if the bakery had uprooted itself from its foundations and come towards him.
As this was possibly Pinkie he was dealing with, Soarin didn’t immediately discard that possibility.
Or more likely, Soarin had just flown closer than he had anticipated and Pinkie Pie was not a space-time bending/defying pony.
A pink head suddenly appeared out of Soarin’s saddle bag.
“Hey Soarin!” A characteristically bubbly voice said
“OH shit!” Soarin shrieked, dumping the now heavy saddlebags off his flank with a twist. Soarin watched wide eyed as the bags raced towards the ground, expanding as more of Pinkie somehow appeared inside of them.
There was a loud crash a few moments later followed by another cheerful greeting to the unfortunate owner of the house Pinkie had just smashed through.
‘Fly you fool!’ Soarin thought dumbly as he watched Pinkie drunkenly clamber from the wreckage.
His wings taking a moment longer to respond, Soarin blasted through the air towards the market desperate to escape.
‘How did she do that?’ Soarin thought as he surveyed the market. Noticing a flash of pink, he did a quick loop and planted himself firmly on a nearby cloud. He peered over the edge cautiously, alert for any more signs of Pinkie.
‘I’m safe here, she can’t get me here.’ Soarin reassured himself. ‘Only pegasi can go on clouds.’
“You shouldn’t really drop me like that! I mean somepony could have gotten hurt and that would be just awful!”
“Pinkie?!” Soarin yelled incredulously as she appeared hanging upside down from the cloud behind him.
“Of course I’m Pinkie you great big goof ba-.” She looked around suddenly, noticing that Soarin had vanished again.
“What, do I smell or something?”
Meanwhile on a tiny planet called Earth; the third planet from the ball of gas known to the human race as Sol. The tomb in Westminster Abbey belonging to Isaac Newton started to creak and groan
Isaac Newton rolled over in his grave.
“Damn it Pinkie.”
“Okay I’m safe here, she can’t possibly find me here.” Soarin whimpered to himself, rocking back and forth in a small cellar he’d found. After first checking the cellar for any other possible avenues of entry, Soarin bunkered himself down, happy to wait until the unbearable Pink pony called it quits for the day and left him alone.
“No way in hell she can find me.” Soarin murmured.
“Oo cah?” Pinkie asked from behind him. “Are oo layin ieo eek? Ooo ooh ca I lay?”
Soarin managed to contain a flurry of curses and slumped his shoulders in weary resignation.
“You...” he muttered under his breath. Turning towards the pink pony, Soarin noticed a three tiered cake delicately balanced on her tongue.
“How do you even do that?”
“Wa ‘is? I hav bo iea!”She giggled before swallowing the cake in a single gulp.
“You’ve got me,” Soarin said dryly, “What do you want?”
“Nothing, just wanted to say hi.”
Soarin’s jaw worked up and down furiously.
“You chased me halfway across town, broke the laws of physics several times with contemptuous ease and smashed a roof just to say hello?”
“When you put it like that it seems like I went to a lot of effort just to say hi didn’t I?”
Soarin stared at her blankly.
“No, you put in no effort whatsoever. I should feel offended and hate you forever.”
Naturally any normal pony would have detected the scathing sarcasm in Soarin’s tone and acted accordingly.
Pinkie Pie is not a normal pony however.
“No don’t say that, I’ll try better next time. Come with me I’ll make it up to you, Pinkie Promise” she gushed, practically dragging Soarin along behind her.
“Actually, I’ll be right thanks…” Soarin said trying to squirm out of her iron grip. “No really, it’s no trouble.”
Pinkie ignored him and continued gushing about how much of a bad pony she was.
As Pinkie dragged him through the streets of Ponyville a single thought flew through Soarin’s mind.
‘Shit.’
Hurricane’s head snapped up as the door to Soarin’s home swung open suddenly and a veritable tower of cakes, pies and other baked goods staggered through.
The bird peered at the mountain curiously, noting a small pale blue Pegasus underneath the massive pile.
Soarin gave the bird a disbelieving look.
“Don’t ask. Just don’t.”
“You cheated” Doc said as he examined a piece of pie thoughtfully. Whatever reservations he may have had about the meal were quickly banished as he scarfed the tasty morsel down in a few bites.
“You never said I had to make the dinner.” Soarin countered. “Just had to be home cooked. And this was cooked in a home.”
“He’s right you know.” Thunderlane said through half a slice of pie.
Doc shrugged. “Food is food, I guess.”
Soarin nodded in agreement, throwing a small piece of pie to Hurricane as he did so. The falcon sniffed the pie experimentally before shying away from the baked delight.
The three ponies munched in silence for a few minutes, Thunderlane belching loudly as he bolted down the remains of his meal.
“How’d you get all this anyway?” Doc asked as he more politely finished his portion.
“Pinkie Pie.”
“Ahh, I get it.” Doc said knowingly.
“You do? How? I didn’t even say anything.”
“It’s Pinkie, nothing more needs to be said. Everypony in this town knows she’s a little off her rocker.”
“I think all the mares in this town are a bit cuckoo if you ask me.” Soarin said dourly.
“I mean look at our own weather team for example, Flitter is obsessively trying to controlling her sister’s life, Cloud Chaser gets all dreamy eyed every time she even hears my name and Rainbow Dash, don’t even let me get started there.”
“I like Flitter, she’s nice to me.” Doc half mumbled.
“And Dash isn’t so bad, you just gotta get used to her being dominative and stuff.” Thunderlane said gruffly, a look of irritation crossing his face.
“And Cloud Chaser getting all starry eyed, not surprising. If I was gay, and I’m not, but if I was, I’d be hitting on you.” Doc concluded making Soarin shuffle in his seat awkwardly.
“Thanks guys. Just back me up why don’t you.” Soarin said.
“No problem.” The two responded in unison.
“Look, you’ve got to admit Rainbow can be a bit of a hard-arse right?”
Doc shrugged. “Not really, I think you’re letting your feelings from one or two bad experiences with her cloud your judgement."
Soarin opened his mouth to argue but was silenced by Thunderlane rising from the table suddenly.
"Shit, would you look at the time, I had better be off guys, I’ve got prior commitments I need to fulfil.” The grey Pegasus said making his way towards the door.
“Prior commitments?” Doc asked with a raised eyebrow.
“A date.” Thunderlane responded simply.
“Who’s the unlucky mare?”
Thunderlane’s eyes narrowed.
“Rainbow Dash, and for the record she is quite happy with me.” he snarled.
Soarin’s mouth fell open in surprise.
“Since when have you two been dating?” He asked, regaining control of his motor skills.
“Since last week. I talked to her while she was in hospital but we got back together the after day she got out.” he opened the door, letting a cold breeze through. “It’s only been a week but she seems happy enough.”
Soarin wordlessly opened and closed his mouth a few times. He suddenly realised that it was Thunderlane who had been Rainbow Dash's mystery visitor. He almost kicked himself in the head for not connecting the stallions rough voice to voice he had heard in the hospital.
“Now you will excuse me, I really should get going. You know what she does to ponies that are late.” Thunderlane muttered, going through the door and shutting behind him it with a soft click.
The following silence was deafening.
“Well you took that better than I expected.” Doc muttered off from the side.
“Better than expected?” Soarin quipped, “What were you expecting me to do? Turn into an evil deity and banish Thunderlane to the moon?”
“Well… no, but I was expecting some reaction other than.” Doc opened and closed his mouth in imitation of Soarin.
“Stop that.” Soarin grumbled, giving Doc a harsh glare.
“You’re just upset, it’s natural to be jealous in your-.”
“Jealous?!” Soarin spluttered, “Why would I be jealous?!”
“Thunderlane is with Rainbow Dash, you like Rainbow Dash therefore you are jealous of Thunderlane for being with Rainbow Dash and not yourself.”
“That’s ridiculous, where did you get that from? Who told you, Surprise did didn’t she?” Soarin grumbled not quite making eye contact with Doc.
The brown Pegasus looked at Soarin knowingly.
“I don’t like her!” Soarin snapped.
Doc continued staring.
“Would you stop that? You're not getting anywhere by doing that.”
“It would be so much easier if you just admitted it.” Doc said calmly, “It’s fairly obvious.”
Soarin remained quiet for another moment before letting out an exasperated sigh. “Alright! I like her, happy?”
Doc shrugged “Just confirming what I already knew. Doesn't change the fact you’re jealous though.”
“As I said that’s stupid, I’m not jealous of Thunderlane.”
Doc raised an eyebrow and blinked silently.
“Okay maybe a little…” Soarin admitted, rubbing his hoof across the back of his head abashedly.
Doc blinked again.
“Fine you got me, I’m jealous.” Soarin mumbled.
“There we go.” Doc said softly, a smug smirk appearing on his face.
“Thunderlane doesn't deserve her... she could do much better.”
“Like yourself?” Doc asked.
“I didn’t say that." Soarin snapped, flushing red.
Doc leaned back in his chair and let his eyes wander.
"Alright look, this is what I don’t get. It’s the stallions like Thunderlane that always get the girl. Why? What is it about them that makes them so attractive? No disrespect to Thunderlane, but he’s a bit of a dick.”
“And you’re not?” Doc asked, an amused grin spreading across his face.
“Well… yeah…” Soarin scowled. “This is different. Thunderlane and Rainbow Dash were already together once and Thunderlane messed up, you told me. I’m a clean slate. Almost” He corrected.
“Thunderlane could have made it up to her somehow. Doc guessed.
“She could still do better.” Soarin said grumpily.
“If you had said this a month and a half ago when we first met I would have called you crazy. You, Soarin, mooning over a mare. Rainbow Dash at that?”
“Yeah, call me crazy. I had a hard enough time coming to odds with the fact I like her.”
“It takes one with ‘acquired’ taste, lets say, to see something in her.”
Soarin muttered a profane thought under his breath.
“It’s just a pity you’ll probably be friend-zoned in favour of somepony else.”
Soarin opened his mouth to speak but nothing came out.
“I don’t understand.” He finally managed.
“Look, I‘m no expert, but I like to think this… so called group of stallions that you mentioned are less of an emotional attachment for mares than say... you or me. They'd prefer to have us as friends where they can have the benefits of being friends without the possible emotional fallout of a relationship that goes south.”
“I don’t get it.” Soarin huffed.
“Me neither but consider this, what if they only got with these guys as they thought it less of a risk than have a real, emotionally attached relationship. You know, not as much of a risk of them being hurt by these guys as they can almost expect them to do something stupid.”
“That sounds like backward thinking.” Soarin said, pointing out the flaw in Doc's thinking.
“Maybe, quite a few mares are insecure with their emotions. True, nopony likes getting hurt but some of them just can’t stomach the thought of it.”
“You think that Rainbow Dash is emotionally insecure?” Soarin scoffed.
“Well she’s the one that wanted no more from you than to rut her brains out… so… yes? Maybe she was afraid of having a deeper emotional connection with you.”
Soarin flushed red.
“Okay when you put it that way…”
“It makes a lot more sense yes?”
Soarin nodded slowly then stopped. “Actually, she’s hinted at a much deeper past between us. Well, she let it slip out really. I don’t remember shit, but apparently we had a bit to do with each other a few years ago.”
“You saw the wedding tape?” Doc guessed.
“Yes, you wouldn’t know anything about that would you?”
“Wouldn’t have a clue, sorry. Maybe you should ask her.”
Soarin wrinkled his snout in disapproval.
“She wouldn’t tell me.”
“Not that she’s with Thunderlane now.”
“Yeah...” His brow furrowed as Thunderlane was brought up again. “Still, I don’t like this whole thing. Maybe it’s me, but I can see it ending badly. In fact, I’d wager that Thunderlane does something stupid and Dash dumps him. In a week.”
Doc grimaced. “I don’t really like those sorts of bets, not my business... but... what the hell, deal.” He looked suddenly serious. “But if I sense your hoof in any of it, the bet is off and you’re going back to grade school to learn some damn manners.”
“Deal.”
A odd thought struck Soarin. “How do you know so much about this stuff? You were asking me for help the other day.”
“Guess I’m more of a natural than I thought.” Doc said suavely, running a hoof through his mohawk-like mane with a small grin on his face.
“An absolute mare-killer.” Soarin said with a small grin.
Doc chuckled quietly, a wistful look appearing on his face.
“This conversation has given me an idea. There’s somepony I need to talk to.” He said, a small twinkle appearing in his eye.
“This certain somepony wouldn’t be a certain twin I know by any chance?” Soarin guessed.
Doc winked.
“Boy, sometimes I think we run a dating service, not a damn weather patrol.” Soarin said with a chuckle.
“Hey you’re the ones with the hots for the boss.”
“Shut up and get out of here you bastard.” Soarin said, a goofy grin plastering his face.
Doc nodded slightly and left the house in a flurry of wing beats, another blast of cold air assaulted Soarin as the door flew open and shut again.
The smile immediately fell off his face leaving no trace of the good cheer it had just held. Soarin leaned back in his chair, suddenly feeling very tired.
What if Rainbow Dash and Thunderlane did break up? What then? Would she accept Soarin or would she just pound him into the dirt like he had to her before?
What if they never broke up? What they get married, had kids and then, as an ultimately hilarious gesture, Soarin had to baby-sit them?
‘Calm down, that’s not going to happen.’ Soarin thought, dismissing the preposterous idea as easily as it had come it him.
There were too many ‘What-ifs’ and not enough facts, too many tin-foil hat wearers and not enough government agents to sweep them under the rug.
Soarin groaned in frustration, it was hurting his head thinking about it.
“I’m going to sleep.” he muttered, trotting past Hurricane and giving the bird’s feathers a good ruffle.
He climbed the stairs and paused at his bedroom door, examining the newly repaired seams.
Satisfied with the repair work, he crawled into his bed and stared at the ceiling.
Sleep didn’t come easily.
A series of rapid fire knocks rang out on Soarin’s door, jolting him awake. Soarin looked at the small clock perched on his bedside table.
Two o’ clock, it read.
‘Who could that be at this hour?’ he thought tiredly as another barrage of knocks assaulted his front door.
“Hold on, I’m coming.”
The knocking came again impatiently, waking Hurricane who squawked loudly in protest.
“Can I help you?” Soarin asked, the words dying in his mouth as he opened the door.
He was surprised to see an intoxicated Rainbow Dash leaning heavily on the door frame, a bottle of expensive liquor hanging loosely from her mouth.
“You rat bastard.” She slurred summing Soarin up in a few words.
Before Soarin could question her unexpected appearance or verbal slur, she collapsed to the ground unconscious.