A Couple of Showponies

by Possumfacee


Is Trixie Destined to be the Greatest Equine Who Has Ever Lived?

Time for Spitfire always seemed to fly faster than she ever could, especially when she was spending it doing what she loved with the ponies she cared for most. And so she'd set off to practice that Saturday morning with high hopes, despite her half-asleep brain, thanks to the measly two hours of sleep she'd managed to get before some numbskull blasting something you'd hear at a DJ PON-3 concert at 5am woke her up. But shortly after arriving at the Manehattan stadium, she concluded that time could not have been going any slower. She knew it wasn't her lack of sleep that was killing her usual high energy- the Wonderbolt had often practiced and even performed on much less. Something else was distracting her, something blue with deep purple eyes and-

Spitfire collided face-first into Misty's side, sending the two of them plummeting down a few feet before they managed to right themselves, flapping awkwardly as the rest of the team chuckled. “Hm...” Glancing around for eavesdroppers, Misty leaned in toward Spitfire and muttered. “I hope you don't mind me saying so, Captain, but you haven't been doing so hot today- no pun intended. Something wrong?”

“Sorry,” the fiery pegasus replied, looking off to the side. “Nothing's wrong, I'm just thinking about a meeting I have later today.”

“Oh.” Letting out a sigh of relief, the cyan-maned Wonderbolt smiled. “Possible sponsor?”

Spitfire shook her head. “Not business related.”

Misty raised an eyebrow. “Ooo. I see.” Gently nudging the older pegasus with her elbow, Misty lowered her voice again. “Found a special somepony?”

Rolling her eyes, Spitfire nudged her friend back. “Nothing like that. She's just an old friend of mine from my days at the Young Performer's Camp.” Oddly enough, she found her cheeks burning at the question. Hoping Misty hadn't noticed- though the sly look on her face said otherwise- she continued, “I kept in touch with her for some time, but after I got accepted into the Academy...” She trailed off with a shrug. “You know how demanding it is.”

“I see.” After a quick stretch, the pale pegasus gave Spitfire one more playful nudge. “Well, I hope your completely platonic meeting goes exactly how you want it to. Even if you won't admit it's how you want it to go!” Before Spitfire could reply, Misty was off, looping through the air with that sly smile still plastered on her face.

No more accidents occurred, but Spitfire wondered how; after the short conversation with Misty, Spitfire felt that she could not keep her mind off of her feisty unicorn friend. Oh, of course I can't, she convinced herself. She was my best friend and I haven't seen her in ten years. Anypony would be distracted by something like that! Of course she had never thought of Trixie as anything more than a close friend... right? Truthfully the crushes of her teen years were long forgotten by now, but she was certain that the younger mare- as beautiful and full of life as she had been- had never caught her eye in a romantic way. Spitfire didn't usually fall for unicorns; they demanded cleanliness and a sophisticated air that a Wonderbolt like her- dirty, sweaty, unkempt- could never pull off. And besides, why ruin such a great friendship? Well, it had been great. Perhaps that was the cause of her nervousness. What if the friendship had run its course? She was certainly not the pony she had been at eighteen, and Trixie claimed things had not gone swimmingly for her... Shaking her head, the golden pegasus sighed and resumed her exercises. Whatever the circumstances, their friendship was worth a second chance.

***

Deciding the team deserved a small treat- and because if she flew in circles mindlessly any longer, she might explode-, Spitfire ended practice an hour early. Still, it was only 3:45pm, and Manehattan wasn't her kind of town to go exploring in, so she headed back to her hotel room to kill some time. As she threw her bag on the couch, she thought of joining it for a nap, but quickly reconsidered. A heavy sleeper, she easily imagine sleeping right on through to Sunday morning if she closed her eyes for even a minute. Her hotel room didn't offer a lot of exciting options though, and she soon found herself wandering into the bathroom for what she planned to be a quick shower. But the warm water was soothing, and it couldn't hurt to be in tip-top condition for her date- er, her dinner with Trixie. And so the next thirty minutes were spent lather-rinse-repeating until the Wonderbolt's coat smelled and looked cleaner than it had in the past six months.

Finally stepping out of the enticing mist, Spitfire glanced at the clock on the wall. “Still half an hour...” she mumbled to herself. Quickly running a brush through her mane (Has Trixie ever seen it brushed? she wondered), the mare decided to wait downstairs in case her friend arrived early. A bad idea, she quickly discovered, as every time even the smallest flash of blue passed by the lobby's double doors, her heart would jump into her throat. I'm being silly. Trixie will be here any minute now! But the clock read 5:09pm and there was no sign of the azure unicorn anywhere. Just a little late, she assured herself, for once thankful for a small group of Wonderbolts fans who pestered her with questions and autograph requests for a while. After they'd left for their rooms, she glanced at the clock hesitantly...

5:43pm. Spitfire's stomach clenched and she sighed, heaving herself up and heading for the elevator. She kept hoping to hear Trixie's voice ringing out “Sorry I'm late!” as she slowly trotted toward the lift, but there was nothing but the din of the lobby and the ever friendly “ding!” as the elevator arrived.

Disappointed and left with nothing to do, the showmare resigned herself to her hotel bed, flopping down and shimmying under the covers. Even though she was exhausted in every way possible, Spitfire could not even begin to fall asleep. She wanted to be angry at her friend for ditching her, but all she felt was guilt. “I should have offered to help her. I should have let her stay here last night. I should have known she wouldn't come back.” Tears stung her eyes. “Should have, should have, should have.”

After what felt like hours, there came a frantic knocking on the hotel room door. Spitfire bolted up, eager to race to the door and throw it open, but she restrained herself. “No, if she wants to stand me up, then I won't be welcoming her with open hooves!” she muttered to herself, wiping at her eyes and putting on her coldest expression. She stomped toward the door, scowling as she slowly creaked it open...

The instant she saw the blue unicorn, her resolve melted into a big goofy smile. She didn't know why; she had set out angry and she wanted to be angry, but something about seeing her old friend brought an indestructible grin to her face. “You're late,” she nearly purred.

“Tonight I am the Great and Apologetic Trixie,” the unicorn mumbled with a look of shame. “Trixie ran into some... complications... But as you said, no more excuses! Trixie is incredibly sorry, Spitfire. Trixie knows she has let you down yet again.”

“Well, I was pretty disappointed...” The pegasus felt that holding onto her negative emotions would not benefit either party, so she shrugged and hold Trixie's hoof with her own. “But you're here now, and that's all that I care about.” Gently guiding the mare inside and clicking the door shut behind her, Spitfire led the way to the living room. “What sort of complications arose? If you don't mind my asking.” She plopped down gracelessly onto the middle cushion of the couch, earning a small smile from Trixie.

“It's a rather long story, Spitfire,” Trixie grumbled, tugging lightly on the curl of her mane.

Spitfire gestured at the clock on the wall. “I've got so much time, it's not even funny.”

Snorting, Trixie stared at the pegasus with a small smirk. “Odd that such a popular pony would have so much time on her hooves. Don't you have some ridiculous party to attend? A signing perhaps?”

“Don't change the subject.”

Letting out a defeated sigh, the unicorn settled in next to Spitfire on the couch, grimacing at the worn out cloth- Spitfire hoped her after-practice stench had not lingered. “Fine, have it your way,” Trixie hissed.

With a hefty sigh, she began. “Trixie- I did not have the same luck finding work that you came across so easily... But I got by. At first I played small, unimportant gigs: foals' birthday party magic shows, things like that. But it left Trix- it left me wanting something more. I am the Great and Powerful Trixie after all. I wanted to be the best. I studied as hard as I could, even attended Celestia's school, but...” The unicorn trailed off. “I guess I'm a slow learner. I eventually took my show on the road, and those were the best few years of my life. Every town I stopped in loved my tricks, my magic, my light shows! Sure, I may have slightly exaggerated some of my stories, but what good showmare doesn't? And then,” her eyes narrowed, “I came across that wretched Ponyville and that horrible Twilight Sparkle. She just couldn't let me have my moment of glory. It's not as though I wanted to run the town. I just wanted to make a few bits and move on.” She turned to Spitfire, and her eyes filled with tears. “But no... That's not the worst part. The worst part... is that I couldn't even vanquish an Ursa Minor. Sure, Twilight Sparkle showed me up in front of everypony, but it was also my fault.” Trixie buried her face in Spitfire's shoulder, sniffling as she whimpered, “I'm not great or powerful.”

Patting her friend's back, Spitfire hummed to herself. “Well, that's not true. You are great and powerful. Vanquishing an Ursa of any kind is incredibly hard. Surely it's not that big of a deal that you couldn't manage it.”

Trixie froze, laying rigid in Spitfire's hooves. “Not a big deal...?” She yanked away suddenly, leaping to her hooves in front of the Wonderbolt, who could only blink in response. “I'm the laughing stock of every town I go to now! One simple mistake and everypony hates me! I can't work, I have almost no bits. Do you know why I was late today?” Tears were once more filling in her eyes, a couple of them sliding down her cheeks. “Because somepony spray-painted all over my wagon. My home. And there's no way I can pay to fix it. Not even a can of paint to cover it.”

After a brief moment of silence, Spitfire spoke. “I... I had no idea. That must be horrible, Trixie. I'm sorry this happened. I truly am.” Met with silence, the fiery-maned mare continued awkwardly. “Um... I'm sure I can help you!”

“Help me? You can't help me. Nopony can.”

“I could get you a job..." Spitfire paused, tapping her chin in thought. "Ah! You could be a part time act for the Wonderbolts. Or maybe you could do some special effects for our shows!”

Trixie sniffled, rubbing her nose with her hoof. “You'd... You'd do that for Trixie?”

Spitfire smiled, nodding as she tugged her friend into her lap and embraced her. “Of course I would. It's a favor for both of us: you get paid, and the Wonderbolts get an awesome new teammate! Besides, I told you I'd always be here to help you, and I don't intend to go against my word.”

“Spitfire...” Trixie locked eyes with the pegasus, leaning in closer. Her breath was hot on Spitfire's neck, and she couldn't help but want to sit still and let whatever Trixie was planning happen... But no! Trixie was a good friend and she would not ruin that for something so silly! Quickly pulling away and taking to the air above the couch, the Wonderbolts' captain let out a nervous, high-pitched laugh. “Anything for a friend!”

Looking down at the carpet, Trixie nodded. “Y-Yes... A friend.” After a painfully long moment of silence, the azure mare coughed and looked up at Spitfire with an uncharacteristically shy smile. “So, when do I start, boss?”

***

Though it took quite some time to get her to stop whining, Spitfire had finally given Trixie her schedule- she would have to be at practice every morning, the same as all the other ponies who played a part in the Wonderbolts' shows, to learn how to coordinate her fireworks and other effects with the moves of the Wonderbolts. Knowing her friend, she normally would have doubted Trixie would show up on time that upcoming Monday, but she could tell Trixie was eager to impress the others, and to regain her sense of self-worth. Working with the Wonderbolts was an honor, and an offer that Spitfire did not make often (not to mention an honor she probably shouldn't have bestowed upon her friend without checking with the others first). She knew Trixie would take this opportunity seriously. For both of their sakes.

Before she had left Saturday evening, Trixie had tossed a small, leather-bound book at Spitfire's hooves. “Photos from the Young Performer's Camp. Trixie thought you might enjoy a little trip down memory lane.” The mare had smiled, again with the slightest hint of bashfulness, as she headed out the door. “Just don't forget to return them; they mean a lot to Trixie.”

Now, Sunday morning, Spitfire lay sprawled out on the mattress, flipping through the pages of pictures and occasionally smiling. Most of them were simple memories, but vivid ones nonetheless- a picnic, a musical, magic shows (Trixie's favorite!), talent shows. However, the large photo on the final page caught the mare's amber gaze instantly- their graduation picture. Spitfire had been about twelve then, and Trixie, ten or so. And though it was nearly sixteen years ago, the details of that day were etched in the Wonderbolt's mind as clear as day...

*****

“Does my cape look okay?” The small unicorn filly ran in circles trying to get a better look at her homemade “cape”, which really wasn't much more than a towel with some gold star stickers haphazardly plastered onto it. Trixie had been so eager to make her own costume that she refused the help of both her mother and Spitfire, and though it was a bit of a mess, it was a mess Trixie wore with pride.

With a soft giggle, Spitfire nodded at the bundle of energy. “You look wonderful. But you'll have to hold still unless you want to be a little blue blur in the picture!” She ruffled Trixie's mane and grinned.

“Okay, Spitfire!” The filly froze and looked up at the pegasus with wide, awestruck eyes. “I can't believe we're already done. I can't believe I'm officially a magician!” She bounced a bit before catching herself and holding still. “And I couldn't have done it without you.”

Spitfire blushed, cuffing Trixie's ears with a hoof. “Nah, it was all you, kid. I just made sure you realized your potential. You were always great and powerful.” She glanced over at the approaching camera stallion. “Ah, now's our time to shine.”

The small unicorn tore her gaze away from the pegasus with a faint blush. "Okay, Spitfire."

*****

Just before the camera flash had blinded them, Trixie clung to Spitfire's shoulders and gave as mighty a bear hug as her tiny arms could manage. The camera stallion and the camp director hadn't been very happy- the rest of the attendees followed the rules and had remained stony-faced and stiff, but there, in the upper left-hand corner, was Trixie clinging to Spitfire with the most gleeful face the Wonderbolt could ever recall seeing on another pony. She could still remember how excited Trixie was to see her every day, how proud she was when her mom would come to pick her up- she'd exclaim “Say goodbye to Spitfire, my Wonderbolt friend!”; it was the first feeling of being a mentor that Spitfire had ever experienced, and the thing that convinced her that she could be a leader someday.

And she could still remember Trixie's concern as she asked on that final day “You won't forget me, will you?”

As Spitfire closed the photo album, she vowed to make up for lost time. For Trixie.

Her friend.

***

“I don't think you're even trying!” Spitfire hissed at Lightning Streak, who narrowed his eyes in determination, picking up speed as he zipped past the fiery mare. She smiled to herself; her team didn't just function under pressure, it thrived. As the captain of such an important and valued group of ponies, Spitfire did her best to preserve everyone's self-confidence and to keep them performing to the best of their abilities, and she had learned that the “tough love” approach was often very useful at achieving both.

Lately she was feeling particularly focused on the task at hand, as now one of her oldest and closest friends was always nearby, watching the team closely and preparing to act in complete unison with their every move. Trixie had really gotten good at synchronizing her fireworks with the stunts of Spitfire's teammates over the past few weeks, and today would mark the first show that incorporated the magician's light work into the performance. She was more than confident in Trixie's ability, though the unicorn looked like she might lose her lunch at any moment. Descending toward the nervous unicorn, Spitfire chuckled. “Your face is the color of Froggy Bottom Bogg.”

“Can it, Flame-Brain,” Trixie retorted, her tail twitching back and forth and her eyes glued on the pegasi above.

Spitfire lightly nudged her friend's shoulder. “You'll do fine. It's just like during practice.”

“Yes, only hundreds of ponies will be watching,” Trixie scoffed, her hooves kneading the ground below. “They will never let Trixie live it down if she fails.”

The Wonderbolt stretched her wing across Trixie's shoulders, nuzzling her cheek gently. “That probably won't happen. And even if it does, who cares? Everypony messes up sometimes, especially the newbies. Hay, even I still mess up occasionally.”

Trixie fixed Spitfire with a look of trust. “You're sure Trixie is ready?”

“Yes. Now c'mon, the audience will start arriving in ten minutes and we've got to get everyone set up.” Spitfire blew into her whistle, waiting for her team to cease practicing before gesturing toward the locker rooms. “Get suited up, everyone, we're about to get started!” She gave Trixie a quick kiss on the cheek before dashing off toward the mares' locker room.

***

There was a huge turnout for the Canterlot show- but then again, there almost always was- and the stadium was roaring with the sounds of an excited audience. Once more, things had been going extremely smoothly; Surprise had a small incident involving a messy dive, but she was uninjured and the show had continued flawlessly. The grand finale was next, an elaborate move which involved a heavily synchronized series of dives, twirls, and lots of fireworks.

As Spitfire got into position next to Soarin and Silver Lining, she squinted down at the floor of the open-roofed stadium, searching for her blue-coated friend. Unable to see clearly enough through her goggles, she shrugged and looked back to her fellow Wonderbolts. “You know the drill. Count of three. One... two...” A sound cue assaulted her ears. “Three!”

Immediately diving only inches away from Soarin, the pair began to spin and twirl around each other tightly, at times parting to loop up and back down, all the while dodging precisely aimed fireworks. They had practiced this stunt a hundred times, and Spitfire was more or less on auto-pilot.

It took her a moment to register the loud crack, blinding light, and smell of burning hair and feathers.

At first, she thought she had been struck by the firework, but she shortly realized that Soarin was no longer near her, but plummeting down to the stadium floor, gaining dangerous amounts of speed and leaving a trail of smoke behind him. She began to dive after him, though she knew she could never reach him in time. Spitfire's face contorted with horror as she noticed he was hurtling right toward a stand full of ponies. The fans were frantically scrambling away, but it was clear that some of them would not have the time or space to get safely out of reach.

Suddenly, a flash of blue came darting toward Soarin's falling form. Trixie! Spitfire thought, her hopes lifting as Trixie's horn began to glow a pant pinkish-purple. An aura surrounded Soarin, but the speed in which he was falling did not decelerate noticeably, if at all. Spitfire was now close enough to see the strained look on Trixie's face- she was giving it everything she had, but it clearly wasn't enough. Spitfire couldn't stand to see her friend and fans smashed to pieces, but she couldn't look away. She sent a silent prayer to Celestia as time seemed to stand still.

Seconds before impact, Soarin came to a screeching halt, his face still screwed up in preparation of the collision. For a moment, Trixie's face lit up with pride and relief. But it was soon replaced with a look of utter shame and horror: a unicorn stallion, who couldn't have been older than twelve, had wrapped his aura around Soarin's body at the last moment.

As the crowd erupted into cheers, Trixie backed away, her horn's glow fading as tears fell silently from her wide, pained eyes. As a paramedic raced toward Soarin, who luckily seemed mostly uninjured, save for many burnt feathers, the azure unicorn made a mad dash for the exit and disappeared from Spitfire's view. Pausing only for a moment to make sure Soarin was in good hooves, the Wonderbolts' captain took off after Trixie, hoping that she hadn't managed to get too far. Scanning the immediate surroundings, she let out a sigh of relief as she noticed her friend had barely made it down the street. “Hey, Trixie!”

LEAVE ME ALONE!” Trixie turned and snarled at Spitfire, a look of pure anguish on her face.

“Trixie... please....” Spitfire approached her friend slowly, one step at a time.

“No! There is no recovering from this, Spitfire!”

Another step. “It's okay,” the fiery mare cooed. “Everything will be okay. Nopony blames you.”

“I blame me!” The unicorn sobbed, stepping back. “I couldn't even resolve the problem I caused! A problem a foal could fix! I'm weak and pathetic. You were wrong, Spitfire. How could you mislead me for so long?! I trusted you. I thought I could be somepony!” Trixie kicked at the air in frustration. “Well, that's simply not true!”

“Trixie...”

“If you have any respect for me, you will not follow me, Spitfire.” Turning away, Trixie lowered her head. “I have to get away from everything for a while.”

Tears falling from her own eyes, Spitfire stared at her friend. “Will you come back?”

But there came no reply. Darting away down the street, around the corner, and out of sight Trixie went. One of Spitfire's oldest friends, slipping away.

And for the second time, Spitfire did nothing to stop her.