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// Fame without glory 
// Story: A League of Their Own 
// by Sparx 
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"Great job out there Spitfire!" What a hollow compliment that had become over the years. In the beginning, it  was amazing, it would cause her heart to fly. Nowadays she heard it so often it almost had carved out a small indent in her brain. Great job for what? For doing all the same things everypony had already seen? Spitfire loved her work, but lately it had lost it's old glamor, all the fun had sort of drained away into a very bland routine. If they weren't doing a show, they were signing random merchandise or body parts. Spitfire joined the Wonderbolts because it had been her dream, to become the best flier she could be, but in her years with them, she saw little, if any improvement. They performed the same tricks and routines every show, nothing new. It all started out very fun, the glitz, the fame, the adrenaline, but there came a time where she just wanted to meet somepony who DIDN'T know her name, that WOULDN'T scream her name. As for the rush, her body had grown too used to the same drops and spins, she just went through the motions. Sure it was fun, but not the thrill she needed. 

Spitfire sighed as she walked out of her shower, towel over her shoulder. She had finally managed a day off from signings and appearances, an actual day at home. Her orange mane a bit moist and sprawled on her head, she walked over to her couch and curled up, throwing the towel over the arm. She grabbed the remote with her mouth and turned on the TV where she saw herself, Soarin', and the other Wonderbolts in their last show. A soft groan escaped her mouth as she changed the channel. On the news she saw the image of six ponies laughing together in front of the camera. Spitfire recognized them, the elements of harmony. A few months ago she remembered a report on them stopping Nightmare Moon, as well as their destruction of the Grand Galloping Gala. The reporter spoke of how they had saved the town again from Discord, Spitfire thought back to the few weeks ago when everypony around her was a darker shade and she felt a compulsion to fly underwater, how she did that she couldn't say. The camera suddenly came to the one Spitfire knew best, Rainbow Dash. The pony seemed to pop up in her life every direction Spitfire looked: she went to her shows, she won the young fliers competition and saved Spitifre's life, she had helped save ponyville, no, the world twice, and not to mention, she was the only pony to ever pull off a sonic rainboom. Spitfire had always tried to perfect the move, but had never managed the speed. THIS pony was living the life, she may not have hundreds of bits, a fancy house or a celebrity status, but she still had her freedom.

Rainbow Dash spoke to the reporter about wanting to become a Wonderbolt and how it was her dream. Spitfire smiled and nodded her head. This pegasus reminded her of how she used to be before she became a Wonderbolt. The poor filly had no idea how boring it really was. The glamor and money are great, but it's not why Spitfire had joined, and she was sure Rainbow Dash would feel the same way. As soon as the camera turned away from Rainbow, Spitfire lost interest and changed the channel a few times before giving up and shutting it back off. She walked over to her kitchen and pulled out various newspapers, all featuring something Rainbow Dash and the other six ponies had done. When the picture of the Gala came up a sick feeling churned in Spitfire's stomach, she had promised to spend the evening with Rainbow and instead ended up talking with snooty nobles all night. Of all the duties of being a Wonderbolt, keeping up their image was Spitfire's most hated. She didn't enjoy talking with stuck up ponies too high on their pedestal for her liking, she just wanted to fly. If anything she would have much preferred to talk to Rainbow Dash all night, that would be fun. Just speaking to a fellow flier, in it for the fun of it. 

Spitfire smiled at the thought and looked up from the newspaper, as big as her home was... it was very empty. It was only her and her thoughts that occupied the place, and in such a large home, it made her feel very lonely. When was the last time she had an actual relationship? When did she have the time for one? At these thoughts, her smile quickly dropped and she let out another sigh. "And now comes the part where I talk to myself." It was what she usually did, just to break the silence, to hear a voice. She walked back over to the couch and turned on the TV again, just to hear something. For a day off, she didn't have very much to do. She could go out and fly, but she was going to do plenty of that tomorrow, but the main reason was the potential of some fan recognizing her and having her sign their flank or glossy or Celestia knows what. In an annoyed huff Spitfire sat back down just gazing at the TV, flipping through the channels. 

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Rainbow Dash waved goodbye to the others as she flew off, landing a few minutes later on her home in the sky. She let out a content sigh and went inside. She had put in a good day's work, developed a new trick, and had a fun evening with her friends. She smiled and looked up to her Wonderbolts posters and felt a glimmer in her heart. "One day, one day soon." She trotted up into her room  and looked at her collection. Everything from bobble-heads to action figures and even the calender held some image of the Wonderbolts on them, but her favorite piece was the frame on her nightstand. In it was her autographed photo of Spitfire, signed 'Always follow your dreams! -Spitfire' Rainbow Dash had that picture signed the first show the Wonderbolts hosted as soon as Spitfire became their captain. Spitfire had always been Dash's favorite Wonderbolt. She felt some sort of connection to the yellow coated pegasus, ever since that autograph. They've had the chance to talk to one another before, but never for too long. The memories of the Gala flashed through Rainbow Dash's head and made her give out a little scoff. When the two DID get to talk, they'd chat about the ecstasy of flight and the speed they could attain, Spitfire seemed to hold a very similar opinion to Rainbow Dash, but also had a hint of longing in her voice. 

Rainbow Dash admired a bit deeper into Spitfire's picture. She was quite a striking mare, well kept mane, and a very fit body. Dash had seen Spitfire without her hair done up on one occasion, the only word she could truly use to describe her at the time was gorgeous. Spitfire's figure wasn't too dissimilar from Dash's, they were both pegasi built for flying, strong wings, very aerodynamic bodies and very fit. Rainbow Dash had never been one to care much for stallions, mares were much more graceful and were generally better fliers for it. Spitfire was the pony Rainbow Dash had built her standards off of, beauty, grace and skill. Nopony else had come close to Rainbow's speed beyond Spitfire. After a few more moments of gazing at the picture, Rainbow Dash shook her head to pull herself away from her fantasies and smiled. She crawled into her bed and brought the blankets over her. She turned out the lights and looked at the picture once more to hopefully capture Spitfire's image in her dreams. "One day." She yawned as her eyes drooped. Slowly the picture faded from her view, being filled in by darkness as her eyelids shut tight and she let sleep take her, awaiting the morning.