//------------------------------// // Casablanca // Story: Fire & Rain // by Ruirik //------------------------------// Walking through the streets of Manehattan during the five o’clock hour on a Friday night wasn’t a prospect that anypony particularly enjoyed. Unicorns and earth ponies had at least learned to tolerate the pervasive intrusion of personal space. Pegasi had the unique ability to avoid the traffic entirely by simply flying to whatever location they needed to be at. However finding the space to land on a crowded sidewalk usually ended up being it’s own special kind of torment. The irony of just how badly she longed for that specific pain-in-the-flank was not lost on Spitfire as she slowly made her way through the crowds. Rainbow Dash, Soarin’, and Rapidfire dutifully followed her as best they could, though­, in fairness, Rapid and Soarin’ could have flown away at any point in the last thirty minutes; Spitfire hadn’t bothered to check. Rainbow, on the other hoof, had stayed by her side the whole time, irrespective of the difficulties inherent in navigating the crowded streets. Spitfire could see the frustration in the weather manager’s eyes; it flashed like lightning in a distant storm. She could all but feel the burning desire in Dash’s soul to take to the skies and soar to the clouds above, leaving the claustrophobic streets in her wake. Spitfire even felt Rainbow’s right wing bump into her side several times when the smaller pegasus had nearly given in to the desire to fly. The upside to the whole situation, at least for Spitfire, was the proximity it gave her to Rainbow. For the majority of the walk the two were never more than five to ten inches apart. It had allowed the Wonderbolt ample opportunities to discreetly observe the weather manager’s reactions in detail. Seeing her frustrations so intimately gave Spitfire an even greater appreciation for how patient Rainbow had been. She wasn’t sure that, if their situations were reversed, she would have been able to resist the temptation to take to the air and carry Dash from one end of town to the other. Spitfire leaned over slightly, giving Rainbow a delicate nuzzle. The small act caused Dash to stumble momentarily, a flush of red blossoming over her cyan cheeks. She made a note to properly thank the younger mare when they weren’t pushing their way through an overcrowded street. Eventually, their brave and heroic struggle against the nigh insurmountable odds came to an end with the four irritable pegasi standing in front of an unassuming brick building. The entrance was set into a large archway with a finely-crafted metalwork sign mounted over the door. In elaborate letters it read ‘The Café Amaréicain’. Spitfire smiled as she turned, pleased to see Soarin’ and her brother had stayed close behind them. “Well,” Spitfire began cheerily, “here we are!” “Finally,” grumbled Rapidfire. “Oh quiet, you,” Spitfire chided him playfully. “You’re getting a free meal out of it.” “Hmm.” Rapid put his hoof to his chin as he pretended to contemplate the situation. “Fair point,” he decided after a moment. Spitfire shook her head and allowed herself a light chuckle. Without further delay, she trotted up to the door and pulled it open, holding it for Rainbow, Rapid, and Soarin’. “Ladies first,” she said as her brother and Soarin’ past her. “Oh such a gentlecolt,” Rapidfire replied in a falsetto voice, making a point of swaying his hips like a mare as he passed Spitfire. “Discord, smite me now,” Soarin’ mumbled quietly. “Oh pony up, buddy,” Spitfire said with a smirk. Inside, the Café Amaréicain was a large and open space. Several dozen round tables filled the hall, each draped with a pristine, white tablecloth. Every table had an ornate floral centerpiece crowned with three poinsettia flowers as well as elaborately folded napkin’s sitting on porcelain bread plates. There was a large bar area to their immediate right where nearly twenty ponies, mostly unicorns, were enjoying cocktails and chatting about various topics while they waited to be seated. Beside the bar was a small hearth area, complete with several small tables and a large fireplace. In the fireplace itself was a modest log pile resting on an old looking andiron. Finally, at the far end of the hall, there was a stage platform that stood about shoulder height over the rest of the floor. On it was a grand piano, a modest drum setup, and several other instruments, most of which were currently unattended. For the time being, the only performer was the pianist, a pegasus stallion with a light-grey coat and a two-tone mane that was both neon blue and a very dark bluish-grey. The remnants of polite applause faded completely as the pianist began his next song. He played a nostalgic melody twice before he leaned towards the microphone and began to sing. “Making your way in the world today takes everything you've got. Taking a break from all your worries sure would help a lot. Wouldn't you like to get away? All those nights when you've got no lights, the check is in the mail. And your little angel hung the cat up by it's tail; and your third fiance didn't show Sometimes you want to go where everypony knows your name, and they're always glad you came. You wanna be where you can see, our troubles are all the same You wanna be where everypony knows Your name.” As he continued his song, Rainbow Dash instinctively took a step back. This wasn’t the kind of place she belonged in. She wasn’t a famous Wonderbolt like Spitfire, Rapidfire, and Soarin’. She wasn’t upscale like Rarity, and she wasn’t the personal protégé of one of the Princesses like Twilight. She was just the weather manager from a backwater town. Spitfire didn’t miss Rainbow’s nervous reaction, and she quickly stepped up beside the cyan mare and draped her good wing over Rainbow’s back. “Hey,” Spitfire started in a reassuring voice, “you alright?” “Y-yeah,” Rainbow answered. “I’ve just never been anywhere like this.” “Don’t worry about it.” Spitfire gave her a light hug with her wing. “There’s nothing to be intimidated about. Just relax and have some fun.” Rainbow nodded, though she found herself wondering when she had started turning into Fluttershy. Spitfire’s wing soon left Rainbow’s back, leaving nothing but a rush of cool air in place of its warmth. The former-captain smiled as she trotted to the podium where a teal pegasus with a messy brown mane was occupying himself with a notebook and a quill pen. He quickly noticed Spitfire approach, and after putting his quill down he offered her a welcoming smile. “Good evening ma’am. Do you have a reservation?” “Yes,” Spitfire started with an affirmative nod. “It’s under ‘Spitfire’.” The teal stallion perused his ledger for a moment before finding the name. “Party of four, correct?” he asked. “Yup, that’s us,” she replied, waving her hoof to her three companions. “Very good.” he slipped down from the barstool he had commandeered for a seat as he took four menus under his right wing. “If you’ll all follow me, I’ll show you to your table.” Spitfire motioned for the others to follow her as she trotted casually after the pegasus. She couldn’t help but notice that this particular stallion was a bit on the short side and kept his tail longer than most other stallions did, save for Silver Lining and Lightning Streak. After a moment he ushered them to a table not too far from the stage. After each had taken a seat, he gave them each a menu and took his leave with a polite bow. Each of them took the time to get comfortable before looking at the menu. Rainbow felt her cheeks start to burn again. The so-called menu in her hooves was far more aptly described as a short-list. There were six options, each coming with a predetermined appetizer, wine, and dessert. Rainbow also noticed a distinct lack of any pricing information on the menu. She recalled Twilight once mentioning how the nicest and most expensive restaurants never put prices on their menus. Ponies simply selected whatever the chefs had chosen to prepare for that night, and then were hoofed an exorbitant bill when you finished. Though in Twilight’s case, she and her family had been there with Princess Celestia, and Rainbow very much doubted there was a pony in Equestria dumb enough to hoof the princess a bill for anything, regardless of whether or not Celestia requested a bill. Rainbow bit her lip uncomfortably and glanced at all three Wonderbolts. Soarin’ and Rapidfire were each casually reading through their options, while Spitfire seemed slightly more interested in browsing the drink menu. Slowly, Rainbow leaned over to Spitfire, lightly nudging the older mare’s shoulder. “What’s up, Dash?” Spitfire asked cheerfully. “I-uh, I’ve never been to a place like this,” she said quietly. “Don’t worry.” Spitfire smiled, wrapping a hoof around Rainbow’s shoulders to give her a reassuring squeeze. “Just order whatever you want.” Rainbow looked at the menu again before she returned her gaze to Spitfire. “Hey, Spitfire?” she asked sheepishly. “Hey, Dash?” the Wonderbolt countered. “What’s a truffle?” “Mold,” Rapidfire interrupted. “No it isn’t.” Spitfire rolled her eyes. “Fancy mold,” Rapidfire said dryly. “Oh stick a sock in it.” Spitfire groaned. “Fancy sock mold,” Rapid deadpanned. Spitfire groaned again, pressing her hoof to her forehead in exasperation. Rainbow blinked in confusion before turning to Soarin’ in hopes of some kind of explanation. The sky-blue stallion noticed her pleading expression, and in response he simply shrugged. “They do that,” he explained matter-of-factly. “You get used to it.” Rainbow couldn’t help but chuckle as the twins bickered quietly. The arrival of their waiter, a green unicorn with a silver mane, put a stop to their squabble. “Good evening,” he started with a smile. “Welcome to the Café Amaréicain. Have any of you dined with us before, or is this your first time here?” “The three of us have been here before,” Spitfire motioned to herself, Rapid, and Soarin’. “It’s her first time though.” She nodded towards Rainbow. “Ah, I see. Well,” He offered her a welcoming smile, “welcome ma’am.” “Thanks,” Rainbow said, doing her best not to look like a fish out of water. “So,” he began, “what can I get you all to drink?” “Just water for me, please,” Rainbow said. “I’ll take a Whiskey Manehattan.” Soarin’ added. “The house cider for me,” Rapid chirped. “I’ll have the Pinot Noir,” Spitfire tossed in. The stallion bowed before he trotted off to retrieve their drinks, leaving the four pegasi alone. The pianist had long since finished his song, and was playing a wordless, but moving piece while several other musicians set up. “So, how’re things going on the team without me there to foalsit?” Spitfire asked Soarin’. “Ask me when I’m less sober,” Soarin’ answered with an annoyed sigh. “Fleetfoot and Blaze are getting really annoying,” Rapid added. “What’s Arcus saying about it?” Spitfire asked as she leaned forward slightly. “Well that’s part of the problem.” Soarin’ sighed and shook his head. “He hasn’t come to any decision yet, so—officially at least—he’s tabled the entire conversation while he thinks about it.” “What’s going on?” Rainbow asked, the concern plain on her face. “The Wonderbolts aren’t in trouble are they? Cause that would totally stink.” Spitfire hesitated for a moment. Should she tell Rainbow about the argument that she had walked into? Would it be better to just sweep it under the rug and okay it off as nothing? Soarin’ and Rapidfire watched her expectantly, neither of them would say anything more than she wanted them to. Spitfire carefully considered the consequences of the next few moments. If she played it off as nothing, she risked the whole thing blowing up in her face later and possibly damaging Rainbow’s faith in her. On the other hoof, if she told Rainbow about the fight going on in the team, there was a chance it could still alienate the younger mare. “Well,” Spitfire started, deciding that sunshine was the best medicine, “a lot of ponies noticed that rainboom the other night, including the whole team.” “Um, oops?” Rainbow rubbed the back of her head and laughed sheepishly, memories of her awkward day at work rushing back. “Some ponies on the team are insisting we get you to teach it to us,” Rapidfire added. “The rest of us would rather let you decide someday.” Rainbow was quiet for a moment before she turned to Spitfire, her face expressionless, “What do you think?” “I think the rainboom was the most amazing thing I’ve ever experienced,” Spitfire said with a smile, “and I think you’re the only pony in the world capable of performing it.” Rainbow’s cheeks flushed red from the compliment. “Don’t worry, Dash,” Spitfire said, putting her hoof on Rainbow’s shoulder. “Soarin’, Rapid, and I will make sure nopony bothers you unless you want them to. Okay?” Rainbow nodded, smiling genuinely at the promise. “Well, I’ve got one condition for that,” Rapidfire interrupted, earning a glare from Spitfire. “What kinda condition?” Rainbow asked warily. The last time a pony had made her a conditional promise it had ended with watching the butterfly migration with Fluttershy and being bored out of her mind. “I wanna hear how you figured it out!” Rapid grinned broadly “What was the training like; what did it feel like the first time you pulled it off? I wanna hear that story!” “Pardon my brother; he’s a foal trapped in a stallions body.” Spitfire rolled her eyes. “Hello pot, I’m kettle,” Rapid countered. “Yeah, I gotta side with Rapid on this one, boss,” Soarin’ interjected with a smirk. Spitfire opened her mouth to reply, only to hesitate as she thought it over. “…Touché,” she mumbled in irritation. “So,” Rapid continued, “tell us the story, Rainbow!” “It was the Best Young Flyer’s competition, right?” Soarin’ asked as he took a sip of water. “No, um, I did it once before that,” Rainbow said sheepishly, her cheeks gaining a subtle tinge of pink. “Like during practice?” Spitfire asked, tilting her head curiously. “Heh, not exactly.” Rainbow shook her head. “It’s how I got my cutie mark.” Soarin’s eyes went wide as his drink took a detour through his nose. Similarly, both Spitfire and Rapidfire looked utterly stunned by the revelation. Spitfire’s shock was somewhat buoyed by an amazed smile, whereas Rapid seemed unable to fully process the information. “No way,” Rapid mumbled as he shook his head. “That’s just… that’s just not fair.” “Dash,” Spitfire rested her hoof on top of Rainbow’s, “that’s incredible!” Rainbow’s cheeks grew a deeper shade of red, even as she offered a noncommittal shrug. Spitfire wondered why she seemed so hesitant to talk more about her talents. The deposed captain made a note to ask Dash about it later. Before anypony could say another word, their waiter returned with their drinks. After ensuring each pegasus was satisfied with their drink, he took their orders. Soarin’ ordered a phyllo roulade, Rapidfire ordered a Tofu dish served in a brandy cream sauce, Spitfire asked for a hickory basted tempeh, and Rainbow ordered a vegetable mezza platter, mostly because she hoped it was the most affordable item on the menu. The unicorn left them with a small basket of warm dinner rolls before he excused himself to place their order. Roughly at that point, a teal-coated earth pony mare with a blonde mane had taken to the stage. She spoke with the pianist for a few moments before taking her place at the microphone. The pianist counted her in with a simple progression of two chords. The bassist, a blue-coated stallion with a dark green mane, joined the music, while another pony that the group couldn’t see from their position kept a quiet rhythm on the high-hat of his drums. After a few moments, the pianist, bassist, and another stallion held a sonorous note that led into the song itself The mare’s singing voice was deeper than any singer Spitfire had heard before. Perhaps that’s what caught the Wonderbolt’s attention. There was a motherly quality to it that gave warmth to the haunting tone of the song. “Er ritt davon, den Träumen nach, Ritt in das Morgenrot hinein,” Soarin’s ears perked immediately from the sound, and he quickly turned in his seat to give the stage his undivided attention. “Ich blieb zurück und sah ihm nach, Und wollte stark und tapfer sein,” The mare kept her eyes closed, her head nodding with the rhythm of the music as the band built into the second verse. “Ich zähl die Tage und mach Kerben in das Holz, In weite Fernen geht mein Blick,” Rainbow scooted closer to Spitfire, her hoof locking with the Wonderbolt's. “It’s a pretty song,” the weather mare noted. Spitfire nodded in agreement. “Yeah it is. Too bad I don’t speak Germane.” “doch in den Nächten da vergess ich meinen Stolz und bete bringt ihn mir zurück.” “It’s a song for a lost lover.” Soarin’ stated, earning a confused look from all three pegasi. “Since when did you speak Germane?” Rapidfire asked incredulously. Soarin blinked in confusion at the question. “My Mom is from Germaneigh. I was raised in a bilingual home.” “How come you never told me this?” Spitfire balked. “Weil du nie gefragt hast.” Soarin replied with a smirk. “Try again in a language the rest of us can understand,” Rapidfire growled. “I said, because you never asked.” Soarin’ chuckled. “Okay then wiseguy,” Rapid glowered. “What’s she saying now?” Soarin’ returned his focus to the stage, listening closely as the mare finished the refrain. “Komm doch heim, komm doch heim Heim zu mir, denn ich bin, so allein.” “Roughly translated,” Soarin’ began slowly, his emerald eyes squinting, “it means, please come home, home to me, because I’m so alone. It’s kinda hard to translate... ‘Komm heim’ means ‘come home’, but ‘doch’ doesn’t have a literal translation, it’s more like an emphasis. Like, like a pleading really.” Rainbow and Spitfire both nodded, their eyes transfixed on the mare’s haunting lament. By the time the mare finished her song and took her bow, Soarin’ was trying to discreetly wipe at his eyes with his hoof. Rapidfire nudged him lightly. “You alright there, Mallow?” “I’m fine,” Soaring curtly answered. “Just…just got something in my eye. “You really are a marshmallow,” Rapidfire commented with a wry grin. “I will stab you in your sleep,” Soarin’ growled. “Kinky,” Rapid giggled as he patted Soarin’s back. Soon after, their meals were delivered along with a matched glass of wine. Soarin’ received some gentle razzing from the twins before the conversation shifted to backstage stories of pranks pulled, close call crashes, and the terror that was an angry Arcus. Rainbow asked questions at every opportunity she could, and when prompted, she shared a few of her own stories. “I once ate meat,” she admitted with wine-induced flippancy. “You what?!” Rapidfire balked. “How in the buck did that happen?” Spitfire asked, her expression one of amused revulsion at the very idea. Soarin’ sipped his second Manehattan, very content to pretend this particular conversation wasn’t happening. Rainbow’s alcohol flushed cheeks gained an additional shade of crimson as she shrugged. “My best friend in Junior Speedsters was a griffon. She brought it in sometimes for lunch. She dared me, and I tried it.” “Whoa,” Spitfire marvelled, her morbid curiosity getting the better of her. “What was it like?” “…Chewy,” Rainbow answered after a moments thought. Rapidfire groaned and put his head in his hooves while Spitfire laughed. Time melted away as the four swapped story after story, and the conversation continued long after their plates were cleared and their bill paid. Spitfire had managed to suppress any visible reaction when she had received the bill, though she did swear she was never coming back unless somepony else was paying. “Well,” Soarin’ said with a yawn, “I suppose we should clear out soon. It’s getting a bit late.” Spitfire turned slightly so she could see one of the clocks that was affixed to the wall. She was mildly surprised to see it was well after nine o’clock. Rainbow’s low tolerance for alcohol manifested in the weather manager sleepily leaning on Spitfire’s shoulder, her magenta eyes half-open and watching the stage. She nudged Rainbow gently, just enough to get the cyan mare’s attention. “What do you say, Dash.” She smiled to her date. “Ready to head out?” Rainbow covered a yawn with her hoof, nodding slowly. “Can we stay for one more song?” she asked. “Sure thing,” Spitfire answered, her smile growing slightly. Rapidfire nudged Soarin’s side lightly. “Check it out, Mallow; Spitfire’s gone domestic on us.” Soarin’ covered his snicker behind a hoof, clearly noticing the chagrined look on Spitfire’s face. “Careful, she might clock us with a frying pan,” Soarin’ replied. “When I get my job back,” Spitfire growled, “you two are gonna get media duty for a month.” “Totally worth it.” Rapidfire grinned. “You won’t think that when you’ve sobered up,” Soarin’ commented. “That reminds me,” Rapid pointed his hoof to Soarin’s empty cocktail glass, “how are you still conscious? You’ve had, like, three of those.” Soarin’ stared at Rapid as though he had just asked if fire was hot. “My Mom’s an old Germaneighian mare and Dad is from a long line of Scolt’s,” he stated, as though that somehow explained everything. Rapid groaned and facehoofed. On stage, the pianist began to play again, this time a brown stallion with a salt and pepper mane stood at the microphone. With a smile on his lips he began to sing, his vibrato voice washing over the entranced hall. “You must remember this A kiss is still a kiss A sigh is just a sigh The fundamental things apply As time goes by And when two lovers woo They still say I love you On that you can rely No matter what the future brings As time goes by.”