//------------------------------// // Chapter Three (AKA Your move Fox-Sama) // Story: Remember me? // by Sugar Moon //------------------------------// Walking through Ponyville town square, Rainbow Dash felt as if she was in a dream. With her offical Wonderbolt hat, glasses, saddlebags and assorted paraphenalia (available at all good sporting goods retailers now) she was ready to camp outside the Ponyville arena to await her idols and their inevitable pleas for her to join them. Of course she'd play it cool, look aloof and unfased by their presence. She wasn't no starstruck fan slobbering for an autograph. Besides she already had them all. No, she was Wonderbolt material and they were finally going to recognise it. Yep, big changes were going to happen around here. Oh yeah, that's right ladies, future Wonderbolt just passing through Dash thought as she walked passed the neatly organised stalls of the market square. She was having far too much fun imagining herself in her new future. As she did most days when she wasn't pranking. Or napping. Or... actually that's about all she did really. Hey Carrot Top, remember that time you wouldn't give me my food free? Suck it, I'm a Wonderbolt filly. Hey Aj, not letting me sleep in your trees? Not anymore, I'm a Wonderbolt. Also naming your trees? That's all kinds of messed up and it must be true because a Wonderbolt said it. And I'm a Wonderbolt. Hey Twi and Spitfire, guess what? I'm a Wonder- That thought was cut off as she tried to process what she was seeing. The princess of eggheads, the ultimate ruler of all things nerdy and “smart” was casually chatting away with the second coolest pony in Equestria? With her idol and not-so-distant-future boss? Nah, she couldn't have seen that. I mean really? What would poss...possessee.. make Spitfire talk to Twilight. But she saw them. Walking all nonchalant down the street as if it was no big deal. She could practically hear Twilight in her head. Oh hey everypony, I'm Twilight Sparkle. I love books. And egg-shaped heads. Isn't great that I know big words. I also know how to make breakfast without burning down my house unlike someponies. Tehee-hee. I'm also really good friends with the One-and-only Spitfire. It isn't a big deal really. It's not like she's the leader of the Wonderbolts and basically awesome ponysonified. Her limited edition 'Soarin Shades' slide to the end of her snout in shock. Jaw slack as she tried to think of anything, anything that could convey what she just witnessed. But the words wouldn't come as she froze there, mouth open, as the hamster in her brain started working overdrive in a vain attempt as to comprehend just what was going on. “So what do you call this place anyway?” Spitfire asked. She was in a rather rustic establishment. A few tables were scattered around the place in a seemingly random pattern but it was obvious to anypony that the place was a pub first and a restaurant second. Course if you asked Twilight you'd find out that each table was strategically placed to diffuse the magic of all the unicorns in the room, in accordance with the Dresden principle first established under Storm Front. Well, it was that or the inebriated patrons had kept knocking the tables around and the staff were too lazy to fix the. Twilight didn't think that very likely though. The barmare was a purple maned and coated earth pony with a sweet but bacchanalian grin, looked over the bar. She obviously enjoyed her job as she sneakily sipped a few drinks when she thought nopony was looking. The other side of the pub not occupied by Twilight and Spitfire was screened off from the other, for as much to give the dinners privacy as the revellers. A loud yell emanated from behind the screen followed by a chorus of “Chug, chug, chug” Spitfire had to admit she liked the atmosphere in here. Much better than those stuffy places in Canterlot. “Hmm?” Twilight said from behind her menu, scanning the list as thoroughly as she would a Kneel haymun novel. Any excuse to read and she'd latch onto it. “I said what do you call this place? I think I like it.” Spitfire said followed by oddly-timed cheering from behind the screen. “It is nice isn't it? A bit loud but they do the best daisy sandwhiches known to mare.” Twilight said almost beginning to drool. More cheering erupted from behind the screen followed by a shout of “Cider shots all round.” “Really? Wow, I gotta get me one of those bad boys.” “You have to. It's one of Berry's signature dishes. That and the 'Drunken chest' but I have no idea what in the hay that is.” Twilight laughed. Oh ponyfeathers. “Berry's?” Spitfire asked, a nervous look now visible on her face. “Mhmm” Twilight nodded “ She owns and runs the place. With a little help from Barley and Wheat brew that is. Are you ok Spits? You don't look so good.” “Oh I'm fine hun. ” Another cheer came from behind the screen. Spitfire now had a good idea who was responsible for all the noise and she wasn't happy about it one bit. The whole gorram team is here. I can't let them see me. Soarin will never let me live it down, especially after the chewing out I gave him out over it. Plus they'll ruin my one chance with Twilight. She finds out I've lied to her and that's it, good night neighenna. Wait. Relax Spitty, relax. Soarin and the guys are all the way behind the screen. They have absolutely no reason to leave the bar part and come over here. Why would they? The bar's full of booze. We'll just eat our meal and leave without anypony being any the wiser. her cocky grin settled back onto her face. “I'm great Twilight. Now, how about we order now? I've got to try those daisy sandwhiches you've been raving about.” She flashed her best flirty smile and Twilight giggled. “Okay, but I can't let you pay for everything. Allow me to pay for my half at least.” Spitfire started to talk, to say how she just couldn't allow a mare as beautiful as Twilight to dirty her hoofs by digging around for bits, while it would be a pleasure for her to hoof the bill. But that's when a phrase she dreaded came from behind her. “Back in a sec you pansies, I'll grab more pie.” Soarin said chuckling, as he trotted into the restaurant half, only to spot a very familiar fiery mane. “Yo' mon Cap-e-tan. Is that you?” he yelled across the room. Double ponyfeathers