Adrenaline coursed through Soarin’s veins, a fierce wind tore through his mane as he streaked through the skies alongside his fellow blue-clad pegasi. The roaring crowds below barely registered in his mind; all that mattered was staying in formation with the fiery-maned mare in front of him throughout the breathtaking turns, somersaults and dives the fliers performed at break-neck speeds. At a signal from Spitfire the formation broke apart, forming an expanding circle of pegasi speeding away from one another - it was time for Soarin’s favourite manoeuvre.
Suddenly each of the pegasi doubled back and sped towards a single point! Mere moments before a fatal collision the daredevil ponies flared their wings to slow themselves, gathering into a spinning mass of blue flight suits and multi-hued manes that hurtled skywards. With a resounding boom they became an exploding star, throwing themselves away as the glittering flare of fireworks expanded and fell slowly towards earth, fading slowly against the sky.
Soarin floated gently back down to the ground with the other Wonderbolts, riding high on the adrenaline of the finale. As he touched down in the centre of the arena he slowly became aware of the hundreds of ponies in the stands cheering and wildly stomping their hooves at the performance – he could’ve sworn that some of the mares in the audience were blowing him kisses, too. An immense feeling of pride swelled in Soarin’s chest as he drank in the adoration, smiling and waving to the crowds with a ridiculous grin plastered across his face. The sheer thrill of the flight mixed with the love of the crowd made him feel invincible, like he could take on anything Equestria could throw at him.
He lived for this!
The locker room buzzed with activity; elite pegasi fliers chatting and laughing amongst each other as they took their hard earned showers. A freshly cleaned Soarin was taken up with neatly folding is flight suit away into his saddlebag when a male voice sounded from beside his spot on the bench. “We sure gave them a show tonight didn’t we, boss?”
“Hay yeah, Lighting Streak. Us Wonderbolts don’t do things by halves,” Soarin replied with a smirk as he turned, holding out his hoof to the blue-coated, blonde-maned stallion. “Isn’t that right?” The sharp clop of hoof meeting hoof was lost against the din of the locker room.
“You know it, boss.” Lightning Streak laughed, watching some of their team mates leave. “So,” he began. “What are you gonna do now?”
“Lightning, you know you can just call me ‘Soarin’ right?”
“Whatever you say, boss.”
Soarin just rolled his eyes at the stallion’s stubbornness. “But since you asked, I’m probably going to head back to Cloudsdale and hit the hay. I don’t know how much longer I can stay on my hooves after that performance.” Lightning Streak had just opened his mouth to reply when a third voice butted in:
“Well, you’re right about one thing, Soarin,” the two pegasi yelped in surprise, spinning about and coming muzzle-to-muzzle with a mare with a mane of fire. “You are going to Cloudsdale, but you’re not sleeping tonight!”
“Spitfire!” he exclaimed with an embarrassed blush. “You scared the feathers off of me and Lightning!” Lightning merely nodded to confirm this, staring very intently at the tiles under his hooves. “And what do you mean, anyway?”
Spitfire cocked her head sideways and gave Soarin a quizzical look. “You mean you’ve forgotten already?” she asked.
“Forgotten what?” Soarin asked, beads of sweat forming on his brow. He had a very bad feeling about this.
Spitfire gave the pale blue pegasus a long, hard stare. His sea green eyes darted all around the room, fervently wishing he was somewhere else. Lightning Streak had slipped away somehow, clearly not wanting to witness Spitfire live up to her name. The withering glare softened and Spitfire began to quiver slightly, the corners of her mouth turning upwards. Unable to contain it any longer, the yellow mare exploded into laughter, throwing a foreleg around Soarin’s terrified (and now rather confused) shoulders.
“That was the last show of the season, you big goofball,” Spitfire chuckled. “You know what we do at the end of every season, right?” Soarin’s brow furrowed in concentration, the gears grinding in his brain almost audible.
“Uh...” was the only sound his mouth made as his mind tried to recover from Spitfire’s earlier assault. Spitfire rolled her eyes good-naturedly at her dumbstruck wingcolt.
“It means we’re going to our favourite watering hole in Cloudsdale, staying out way past our bed-times, and having one of the best nights we'll never remember! ” Soarin’s eyes widened suddenly as it clicked, groaning loudly as his hoof connected to his forehead with a resounding smack. How in Equestria did he manage to forget that?
He was vaguely aware of a few ponies snickering behind him.
“Oh yeah” Soarin said apologetically, his hoof dragging down his face. “Sorry Spits, I completely forgot.”
“Well now you know, and as they say, knowing is half the battle!”
Soarin took a moment to process her comment before replying. “So what’s the other half, then?” he enquired.
“Getting it through your thick skull and into your memory! I swear the only things you can remember are our routines andwhere to get the best pie,” Spitfire stated with a good-natured jab at his side. “But enough about that, how about we head back to our place and drop off our gear?”
“Sure,” the pale blue pegasus replied, stifling a yawn. “I could do with a nap after that performance anyway...” The pair hefted their saddlebags over their backs and headed out of the Wonderbolts’ locker room, waving goodbye to those still inside.
As the clip-clop of their hooves faded into the distance, Lightning Streak turned to the aqua-coated mare next to him. “So, Fleetfoot, are those two sure that they’re not a couple?”
The mare let out a snort of laughter and shook her head. “Ha! They certainly do act like one sometimes, don't they?”
“I guess that's just how ponies get when they've been friends for as long as those two have,” he replied. “They're lucky, really.”
"Mmm." Fleetfoot murmered in assent. "I wish I had somepony that I could be with like that." She cast a look sideways at Lightning Streak. The stallion was, as usual, completely oblivious.
The sun was hanging low in Celestia's sky when Soarin and Spitfire landed on the soft cloud outside of The Hoof and Wing, one of Cloudsdale's premier establishments and favoured bar of the Wonderbolts. The familiar atmosphere of ponies drinking and laughing enveloped the pair as they wandered inside. An older stallion stood behind the bar, beckoning his regulars over with a brown hoof. “Ah, welcome, welcome! A cider for you, Spitfire, and a pint of lager for Soarin?” he enquired.
Soarin held a hoof over his chest as he recoiled in mock horror “But Mr. Barrel, how did you read our minds like that!” The trio chuckled at the blue stallion's antics.
“Can you put those drinks on our tab, please?” asked Spitfire. “I don't think we'd be able to carry enough bits for tonight.”
The bartender, Full Barrel, nodded knowingly. “Tonight's the evening after your last show of the year, right?” he asked as he poured out the duo's drinks. “A few of your friends came in a while back; they're in the private room.” Spitfire nodded her head appreciatively at this.
“You know our schedule better than some of our flight team, Barrel.” Soarin said with an amused shake of his head.
“It's hard not to when the Wonderbolts have been gracing my bar for nearly a decade now,” the stallion explained with a smile. “Have a pleasant evening, you two.” The bartender gave the pair a nod before turning to serve another pony who had wondered up to the bar. Grabbing their drinks from the counter, Soarin and Spitfire turned and began to weave their way around the maze of tables and chatting ponies that was The Hoof and Wing; moving towards the door on the far side of the room sporting a large 'VIPS ONLY' sign complete with a small engraving of a winged lightning bolt.
The private room was nothing spectacular, it was essentially just like the rest of the establishment but with sightly more expensive chairs. However, its secluded nature gave the celebrity fliers a place to converse freely, get drunk and have an all-round good time without fear of the paparazzi getting their hooves on a so-called 'scandal' – this made the modest space invaluable to the team. Members of the squad were spread about the room, drinking and talking among themselves. A round table in the centre of the space was occupied by Fleetfoot, Lightning Streak, Fire Streak – Lightning's brother – and several other fliers.
Fletfoot glanced over to the door as it opened, a grin spreading across her features as she registered the ponies walking through it. “Spitfire!” she exclaimed. The rest of the Wonderbolts turned as well, shuffling around in their seats to face the pair. Fleetfoot raised her glass. “To our captain Spitfire, and the end of the season!” A cheer rose from everypony; glassed were raised and clinked together in a toast to the pony who dragged them through the gruelling summer season.
Spitfire flashed a cocky grin. “Well, who else is going to force you featherbrained lot to do the routines properly?”
Soarin cleared his throat loudly.
“Yeah, we can't forget the other boss now,” Lightning Streak called out. “Even if he does like his pie a bit too much!”
Soarin smirked. “At least I don't have to slow down so that friction from the air doesn't set fire to all the product in my mane, Lighting Streak!” Spitfire whistled appreciatively; the other members of the squad chuckled at their co-captain's lightning fast response.
Lightning Streak laughed and beckoned Spitfire and Soarin over to the table. “Yeah, you got me again boss.” He held out a foreleg as the pair approached; Soarin met it with one of his own in a brohoof.
Soarin and Spitfire settled down at the table, Spitfire next to Fleetfoot and Soarin beside a brilliant white mare with a poofy golden mane and pale violet eyes. “Hiya Soarin!” she chirped, full of energy.
“Hey, Surprise.”
“Wasn't that last show just the most fantastic superriffic thing?” Surprise was practically vibrating in her seat with barley controlled excitement, gesticulating wildly with her hooves as she talked about their performance. “We were all like, whoosh! Zoom! Then at the end, boom! Fireworks! The ponies loved it!”
“We sure gave them a show Surprise,” Soarin chuckled at his hyperactive wingmare's antics. He grabbed his glass with a hoof, raising it towards his companion. “To our awesome flying!”
Surprise's own drink crashed into his. “May it always make ponies laugh and cheer!” she responded. The pair gulped down their beverages with gusto, slamming two mostly-empty glasses onto the table. Spitfire turned from her conversation with Fleetfoot and rolled her eyes at the now-missing drinks.
“It's time for cards you too, if you're still sober enough to play.” Soarin dismissed the comment with a wave of a hoof; Surprise giggled. Spitfire turned to Fleetfoot. “You've got the stuff there, right?”
Fleetfoot produced a plastic case from beneath the table that looked like it had seen better days. “Of course I have.” she said simply. Blue hooves deftly flipped open the case and began setting its contents on the surface. One pack of dog-eared cards and a small mountain of poker chips later, Fleetfoot hauled the case off of the table. Everypony leaned in at the sight; they all knew what was coming.
“Alright you lot,” Spitfire swept up the cards and shuffled them with well- practised movements. She grinned slyly at the faces around her. “Who's ready to lose their chips?”
Several hours and many, many drinks later only four ponies remained amongst the landscape of empty glasses, cards and mounds of discarded chips. Fleetfoot had long since passed out, tongue lolling out of her mouth as her head lay upon the table. Only Soarin, Spitfire and Surprise remained somewhat lucid; they knew that somepony would have to drag the others home once the night was over. The trio of Wonderbolts swayed precariously in their seats as they watched an empty cider bottle spinning lazily on the table before them. The glass slowly ground to a halt, its narrow neck pointing squarely at the blue stallion in the group. Spitfire and Surprise both turned on him, grins plastered across their alcohol-flushed faces.
"So," Spitfire began slowly, "truth or dare, Soarin?"
"Truth." he replied, unfazed by his captain. Surprise's hoof shot into the air, waving frantically.
"Ooh! Ooh! I've got one!" the perky pegasus practically yelled. "Soarin! Do you..." Surprise lowered her voice to a conspiratorial stage whisper, eyes gleaming, "...have a crush on somepony?"
Soarin's cheeks somehow turned even more crimson than they already were at the question, squirming in his seat slightly. Surprise and Spitfire both broke into giggles at their comrade's embarrassment. "Oh, he totally does!" laughed Spitfire. "Come on Soar', who is it?"
"Weeeellll?"
Soarin avoided eye contact with his interrogators, instead focusing on a suddenly fascinating ceiling tile. "It's, uh..." His withers slumped with a sigh of resignation. "It's Rainbow Dash, alright?"
"Ooh, Soarin likes his mares feisty!" Spitifire threw a foreleg over Soarin's withers. "She's got spunk." The poor stallion's face was so flushed with embarassment he could be pull Celestia's chariot on a foggy Hearthswarming Eve.
Surprise leaned in closer. "So why do you want her to be your special somepony, Soarin?" Surprise questioned with a childlike innocence. "She's gotta be some mare to get the co-captain of the Wonderbolts tailing after her."
"He's chasing her tail alright!" Spitfire snorted. Soarin grimaced and pushed the thoroughly drunk captain off of himself.
"I can't really put a hoof on it, you know?" Soarin shifted uncomfortably. "But I just really like her. She's the most beautiful mare in Equestria and she's got the most amazing voice..." he rested his head on his hooves, sighing wistfully. "Remember the royal wedding a while back?"
"I remember you spent pretty much the entire evening dancing with Dash," Spitfire chuckled.
A smile played across Soarin's mouth. "And then there was the whole business at the qualifiers for the Equestria Games," Soarin turned around to face Surprise. "If it wasn't for Rainbow then I wouldn't have been able to fly with Fleetfoot and Spits in the qualifiers!"
Spitfire quietly deflated behind him.
"Aw, I can see it now! You and Rainbow would be sooo cute together!"
Soarin smiled sheepishly. "Thanks, Surprise."
Suddenly Spitfire shot upright, determination in her eyes. "Soarin! I've got a plan!"
"Ah, not so loud," Soarin winced as the sudden shouting sliced through his beer-clouded senses.
"Sorry," the inbriated mare said much more quietly. "I reckon I know how you can get a hoof in the door with Rainbow Dash, Soarin."
"Really? How?"
Spitfire grimaced and rubbed her temples. "Well, I had a plan. It's fallen into the booze and I can't get it back."
"If you drink plenty of water and sleep on it you might remember in the morning," Surprise interjected helpfully.
Soarin raised a skeptical eyebrow. "Really?"
"Sure!" she chirped. "Works for me, anyway..."
Spitfire groaned. "But, Surpise, you're, well, you."
"That doesn't mean it's not worth trying anyway, silly! You wouldn't want to let Soarin down, would you?" Soarin reinforced her point with a nod.
"Yeah, yeah, you're right." Spitfire agreed. She shot Soarin a cocky grin. "Don't you worry Soar', we'll get you on the road to your special somepony in no time."
"Thanks Spits; it means a lot to-" Soarin was suddenly cut off by a loud yawn from Fleetfoot's sleeping form. The blue mare tucked her forelegs closer to her body, mumbling:
"Oh, Lightning Streak, of course I want to be your special somepony..."
A stunned silence fell across the room as the trio stared at their unconscious friend. "Well I guess we know who she's after now!" Soarin snickered. Surprise and Spitfire joined as well, all three were laughing amongst themselves.
"Oh, wow, this evening's certainly been something," Spitfire said after they'd calmed down. "What time is it, anyway," she wondered aloud, glancing at the clock hanging over the door. "Oh, horseapples! It's half one in the morning!"
"Urgh, that'd explain the headache," Soarin groaned. Surprise just shrugged.
"I've stayed up later than this before. It's fun!"
Soarin pushed himself away from the table, standing on shaky legs. "Well I'm going home. You coming, Spits?"
"Yeah, yeah." Spitfire stood up and turned to Surprise. "Will you be alright getting that big lug home?" she asked, motioning towards Fleetfoot. Surprise nodded happily.
"Of course, boss. It's not the first time I've had to carry a pony home after a night out!" she giggled.
"Alright, Surprise, catch you later." Soarin said, making his way to the door with Spitfire. The pair trotted back into the main bar area, closing the door to their private room behind them. The bar was completely devoid of patrons; all of the tables had been wiped clean and the stools stacked away neatly. Only the bartender, Full Barrel, remained. The chesnut brown stallion was sat behind the table, completely engrossed in a book, his reading glasses perched atop his nose. He looked up from the pages at the sound of the VIP door and greeted the two Wonderbolts with a smile as they trotted up to the bar.
"You two heading home, then?" he enquired.
"Yep." answered Soarin. "Thanks for keeping this place open so late for us, Barrel."
Full Barrel simply waved the compliment with a hoof. "Oh, you know me. I always want to do right by my favourite customers on the biggest night of their calandar."
Spitfire smiled gently. "It's why you make this the best bar in Cloudsdale, and that's a fact."
"Why thank you Spitfire, I do my best! Say, who's left in there now?"
Soarin answered him. "Just Fleetfoot and Surprise; they're leaving pretty soon though."
"Ah, okay," the bartender nodded. "Will you two be alright getting home?"
Spitfire stretched out her wings. "Of course," she winked at the bartender. "It's not like we haven't done this before."
"Ha! That's very true, Spitfire!" Full Barrel laughed. "Still, have a safe flight."
"Thanks. Come on Soarin, you ready to hit the hay?"
The cool night air hit the pair like a brick wall as they left the building. Cloudsdale was silent and still, everypony was snuggled up tightly in bed as the stars shined resplendently above. Everypony apart from Spitfire and Soarin, at least. Soarin crouched low to the cloud, wings spread and ready for takeoff. "You ready?" he asked.
"You bet," she replied, matching Soarin's pose. At an unspoken signal the two shot into the air. They flew lazily and somewhat erratically across the city in the clouds towards their home. There was no racing and no stunts; the two were simply content to feel the cool air on their wings and admire Luna's stars. Eventually they came to their destination, coming in for a shaky landing in front of a moderately large cloud home. Soarin went up the short set of stairs to the entrance first, which meant he had to fumble around with the key. After a few missed attempts he finally hit home and the door swung open. The entrance hallway was comfortably warm compared to the still night air of outside, drawing a sigh of contentment from Soarin.
Spitfire and Soarin immediately made for their rooms, trudging up the second flight of stairs that evening. Just before he was about to enter, Soarin turned to Spitfire just down the hall. "Hey, Spits," he called out. Spitfire's ears perked up and she turned to look at him.
"Yeah, Soar'?"
He hesitated for a moment. "When you said you had a plan earlier, about, you know, did you really mean it?" he asked, hopefully.
Spitfire smiled warmly at her friend. "Of course I did, Soar'. I'm gonna help you get the mare of your dreams all right." A sudden yawn overcame the yellow mare. "And speaking of dreams, I think it's time we had some of our own. 'Night, Soar'." With that she turned and went inside her room on the other side of the corridor.
"'Night, Spits," Soarin called out. He pushed open his own room and trotted in, closing it behind him. Soarin's room was spacious; a large, comfortable bed occupied the centre back wall, while another wall was taken up by a large, stylish closet and some book cases. Soarin staggered over to the bed and collapsed onto it, sinking into the soft mattress. Thoughts of Rainbow Dash danced through his head as he stared at the cloud ceiling, wondering just what in Equestria Spitfire had in store for him tomorrow. He rolled over and drew the blankets over himself, settling down for a much needed night's sleep. His eyelids became heavy, closing almost by themselves. As Soarin drifted off into the night, visions of rainbows filled his dreams.