//------------------------------// // Some Turbulence Detected // Story: Fire & Rain // by Ruirik //------------------------------// There was something Spitfire found more than a little creepy about being the only pony in a locker room. The cold air, dim lighting, and heavy walls inherent to earth pony design certainly had something to do with it. Then again, the lingering potpourri of mildew and sweat didn’t help much either. Spitfire gave the nearest locker a half-hearted kick. She was reasonably sure that Arcus’ note to wait in the locker room was his subtle way of telling Spitfire that he was mad about something. Exactly what had put his feathers in a twist Spitfire wasn’t exactly sure, though she could probably hazard a guess. According to Soarin’, Arcus was now aware that Spitfire had been spending time with Rainbow Dash. In some ways that information simplified Spitfire’s life. She no longer had to worry about coming clean to Arcus about that particular piece of knowledge. On the other hoof, if Arcus thought she was dating Rainbow, the situation would become… problematic. Unfortunately for Spitfire, Arcus seemed to enjoy assuming the worst in everything. Spitfire scoffed; Arcus probably assumed she was already sleeping with Rainbow. And while Spitfire wouldn’t deny that she found the idea appealing, she had no plans of inviting Rainbow into her bed anytime soon. After all, sex rarely simplified things. Spitfire shook her head free of those thoughts as the door creaked open. Arcus trotted into the room with several folders of paperwork tucked under his left wing. His face was expressionless, a trait Spitfire had long ago learned was a red flag. She hopped onto her hooves and snapped a crisp salute. “Morning, Sir,” she said. “Spitfire,” Arcus said, casually putting the folders on one of the benches. “I was, uh, expecting to see Triage,” Spitfire said after a moment’s hesitation. “Triage will see you in the main exam room after we’ve had a chance to talk,” Arcus said. ‘Great, trapped in a locker room with my pissed off boss,’ Spitfire noted to herself. ‘What could possibly go wrong?’ “Is there something the matter, sir?” Spitfire asked. “That depends,” Acus began waving a hoof to the bench, “please, sit down.” Spitfire did as she was requested, though it gave the most peculiar feeling that she was a filly again. A filly about to get scolded by her parents for doing something very, very, stupid. Spitfire wondered if it was too late to run for the hills. “So,” Arcus began, “Soarin’ tells me you’ve been seeing Rainbow Dash.” “Well, uh, yeah I guess that’s one way to put it. I mean I wouldn’t say its, seeing, seeing each other, more like ‘yeah I gotta look at you to hang out with you’ seeing,” Spitfire flubbed. Arcus held up a hoof to silence her. “Spitfire, as your friend, what you do is none of my business, and I’m happy you’re… enjoying your time off. As your boss, however, I’m asking you to tell me the truth so I can try to help you.” Spitfire did her best not to fidget, though she couldn’t bring herself to look Arcus in the eyes. “Spitfire,” Arcus began, his voice taking a hard edge. “Are you dating Rainbow Dash?” Spitfire’s tried to answer, her mouth moving as if to speak though she wasn’t able to form the words. She sucked a sharp breath through her lips and held it for a moment before slowly exhaling. She could feel Arcus’ eyes boring into her, though she didn’t dare meet his gaze. “Captain Spitfire,” Arcus said harshly, emphasizing every word, “are you romantically involved with Rainbow Dash?” Spitfire wilted under Arcus’ unyielding glare. He was one of a very small number of ponies that actually intimidated her. In the end, all she could do was nod her head, her ears folded back. “You are a Wonderbolt and a Captain of the Royal Air Force,” Arcus reprimanded her. “Use your words!” “Yes,” she managed to whisper. “Speak up, Captain!” Arcus said, his hoof stomping hard against the cement floor. “Sir, I am, sir!” Spitfire answered, her voice echoing off the cold walls. Arcus allowed a few moments of silence to fill the air between them. His eyes focused on the top of Spitfire’s head while Spitfire very intently studied the accumulated grime on the tile grout. “How long has this relationship been romantic?” Arcus asked, his tone softening somewhat. “About a month, sir,” Spitfire answered, feeling defeated. “Well, that should simplify things,” Arcus noted aloud. A look of confusion spread of Spitfire’s face. “Simplify, sir?” “You are going to break things off with Rainbow Dash as soon as possible,” Arcus said. “It’s what’s best for the both of you.” “Break off?” Spitfire balked. “Did I stutter, Captain?” Arcus asked, shooting Spitfire a glare. “You will break it off, end this dalliance immediately and cease contact until you have regained your perspective.” “My perspective is fine,” Spitfire argued, her hackles rising from the order. “Really?” Arcus asked, sarcasm lacing his tone. “Then please tell me, Spitfire, exactly how do you see this “relationship” turning out?” Spitfire faltered, “I… I don’t know…” “Exactly, you don’t. But I do, Spitfire. I know exactly how this will play out. Let’s say, just for the sake of argument, that you and Ms. Dash hit it off and have a good thing. That would be quite nice, wouldn’t it?” Spitfire nodded a little, not sure where Arcus was going with his speech. “Now then, lets also pretend, that you two even manage to conceal this relationship from the press, the other Wonderbolts, and even Princess Celestia. Then the day arrives that Rainbow Dash applies for a position in the Wonderbolts. “You would of course recuse yourself from judgment, perhaps making up some cute excuse that you’re taking a sick day or going on vacation. We all know that Rainbow Dash would likely pass all of our tests with ease, so what happens when she’s a Wonderbolt cadet?” Arcus asked. “W-what do you mean?” Spitfire asked. “Say that Rainbow Dash is now a Wonderbolt Cadet, what happens with you two then?” Arcus asked again. “Do you come out with the relationship at that point?” “Uh… y-yeah, I-I guess,” Spitfire answered. Arcus sighed and shook his head in disappointment. “And just how do you think that will look, hm? Not even to the press, but to the rest of the Wonderbolts. Celestia knows Rapidfire had a hay of a time after he joined.” “I never gave Rapid any special treatment!” Spitfire argued. “The fact he’s my brother is why I was harder on him than anypony else!” “I know,” Arcus said, “but he is still your brother, which makes it impossible for others not to think you would lack impartiality with him. And to be fair, you should be biased towards him. Family is the most important thing in the world. Rainbow Dash would be a far worse problem.” “How do you figure that?” Spitfire snapped, immediately regretting her tone. “Spitfire, sometimes you amaze me with your naiveté,” Arcus commented with a sigh, rubbing his forehead with a hoof. “It’s a gift,” Spitfire mumbled. “The problem, Spitfire, will be that Rainbow will be perceived as having slept her way into the Wonderbolts.” Spitfire’s temper sparked to life from Arcus’ comment. Her good wing flared out while her bad wing extended as far as she could make it move, which was only half way out. “I would never do something like that, nor would Rainbow!” she spat. “Of course you wouldn’t,” Arcus said, “I know that, you know that, Soarin and Rapid know it. But the press doesn’t, and they don’t care, either. They only care about headlines that sell more issues. And what about the support staff, the backup squads, the trainees? What are they supposed to think when they find out that the Captain’s marefriend became a Wonderbolt?” “That would have nothing to do with it!” Spitfire argued. “Anypony who’s seen her fly would know she’s got the skills!” “Unfortunately, Spitfire, they won’t. They’ll see only what they want to see, which in this case will be Captain Spitfire and the floozy who got in on her back.” “Don’t. Call. Her. That,” Spitfire hissed, her anger almost tangible in the air of the locker room. Arcus kept a stoic look on his face. “What will you do when it’s a media pony and not me? What will you do if it’s Fleetfoot or Blaze? You gonna hit them, like you want to hit me right now? What would you do if I was Red Top?” “I…” Spitfire’s posture deflated, she had no answer for Arcus. “And now you’re starting to get it,” Arcus said, his tone losing the cruel edge he had carried mere moments earlier. “As long as you are a Wonderbolt and she aspires to be one, then you cannot be with this mare. I’m sorry, but that’s just the way it has to be.” Spitfire sank, her ears folding back. Arcus sat beside her and wrapped his foreleg around her in a reassuring embrace. “I know its not much comfort, but better this be done now, before you get any deeper in this mess. Besides, things will be better this way for the both of you. Your career is safe, her future will be safe, everypony will be happy.” “I… I understand,” Spitfire said, her voice quiet. “Good,” Arcus nodded, standing back up and gathering his things and leaving one manila folder next to Spitfire. “Now then, that folder contains your booking information. You current hotel suite is ours for the next few weeks and I’ve left a stipend for you during the vacation. Should be plenty for you to have some fun and relax. You’ve earned the vacation anyway.” “Thanks,” Spitfire replied. “All the team members who have Manehattan apartments will still be in here until we gather for the preseason schedule meeting. I’ll be heading back to Cloudsdale along with the support staff, so if you need anything go to Rapid, Soarin’, Misty, or Fleetfoot. They’ve got your back if you need them.” Arcus said. “I understand,” Spitfire acknowledged. “Good,” Arcus said with a nod, “Triage will see you in exam room two. After that you’re free to enjoy your vacation. Just make sure you end things with Rainbow Dash immediately, for everypony’s sake.” Spitfire answered with a salute, which Arcus returned before trotting out the door. Spitfire waited over a minute before a snarl overtook her face and she punched the nearest locker with all her might. The hard strike of her hoof against the unyielding metal echoed off the walls. “Stupid,” Spitfire hissed. “Stupid, stupid, stupid.” Spitfire sat down and closed her eyes. She forced herself to take deep, calming breaths for several minutes. Once she was confidant that she wouldn’t kill the first pony she saw, she tucked the manila folder under her good wing and made her way out of the locker room. Spitfire’s walk to the exam room was—thankfully—quiet. With Arcus and the support staff having cleared out for their vacations and the active team members already gone, the stadium was almost devoid of life. Spitfire mulled over Arcus’ words as she walked, her anger still simmering the whole way. To a degree, Arcus was right. Perhaps that was why Spitfire found it so aggravating. Rapidfire had spent months after he joined the Wonderbolts fighting off the claims that he had done so on his sister’s good graces. Even to this day, whenever Rapid was in hot water the popular joke was that his sister would save his tail. Spitfire couldn’t exactly deny that claim either. Sure she expected nothing short of excellence from Rapidfire’s performance. In fact, Spitfire made a point to push Rapid harder than any other Wonderbolt, a practice that had caused a lot of friction between them at one time. Still, Spitfire did also allow Rapidfire to get away with a lot. Rapidfire was the only Wonderbolt who had the gall to sass Spitfire in front of the others, and he was generally the only one Spitfire put up with it from. It wasn’t that she didn’t want the other Wonderbolt’s to be friendly with her, just that she and Rapid grew up together; they had a certain chemistry that they were used to. It just so happened that most of that chemistry involved a lot of playful teasing. The situation with Rainbow Dash had every likelihood of being even more complicated. Spitfire liked Rainbow; that much was undeniable. She liked Rainbow quite a lot actually. They were two of a kind in many ways. They both loved to fly, they loved the Wonderbolts as an organization, and Rainbow was one of the few ponies that Spitfire felt she could be herself around. She hadn’t considered how that would change if Rainbow became her subordinate. Spitfire bit down on her lip in frustration. The more she thought about it, the more problems she could think of with her and Rainbow being an item. Still, she also hadn’t met a mare in a long time that she had enjoyed her time with quite so much. Zephyr had been the last, and while Spitfire had loved Zephyr, they had been very different ponies in many ways. She sighed as she came to the exam rooms. She closed her eyes, her forehead pressing against the cool metal door. She took a deep breath and waited a moment before she pushed her way in. As promised, Triage was already there and waiting for her. Triage was an average pegasus by most definitions. His coat was a sky blue color and his short-cropped mane was a gold color. His cutie mark was a red cross flanked by white wings. Triage was also, in Spitfire’s humble opinion, a stallion of questionable sanity. He was also one of the only ponies that Arcus seemed to legitimately like. Why that was the case, Spitfire had no idea. “Ahh, Spitfire,” Triage greeted her with a lopsided smile, “welcome, welcome! I’ve been waiting for you.” “Good to see you, Triage,” she responded with a smile of her own. Triage motioned her to the exam table, which Spitfire obediently sat on. Triage skimmed through a stack of papers that Spitfire assumed was her medical file before he made his way to her side. “So, I leave you alone for a couple of weeks and you go and tear up your wing, huh?” Triage asked. “Well you know, Tree, I just get so bored without you around,” Spitfire answered. Triage chuckled, his hooves gently holding her injured wing as he examined it. “Was it worth it?” “Kinda. Sorta… Almost… Maybe.,” Spitfire said, her tone becoming more subduded with each statement as her conversation with Arcus continued to nad at her. “Fair enough,” he said, “okay, stretch your wing as far as you can.” Spitfire did as he asked, getting her wing to an almost full extension before she stopped. Her face tensed in discomfort, her wing aching from the light stretch. “Hm, can’t go any further?” Triage asked. “Not without a lot of pain,” Spitfire answered. “Okay,” Triage said, “have you been doing any stretches since you tore it, or just keeping it still?” “When it wasn’t bandaged I kept it folded,” Spitfire answered. “All right,” Triage hummed thoughtfully for a moment, “okay, up on your hooves. We’re gonna start stretching this wing until you can at least get full extension again.” “That sounds painful,” Spitfire noted. “‘Pain’ is such a loaded word. I prefer ‘intense sensation’,” Triage replied with a smile. Spitfire stared at Triage with the flattest expression she could manage. Triage held his hooves up in a conciliatory manner. “Don’t worry, Spitfire, I’ll take good care of your wing. Besides it looks very bad on my report if I cripple more than three pegasi in a year.” “Triage, has anypony ever told you that you’re insane?” Spitfire asked. “Today, or this year?” he shot back. Spitfire laughed and got to her hooves. “Okay, let’s do this.”