Spike’s breath came in ragged gasps, but he kept running until he reached the outskirts of Ponyville. The draco-pegasus leaned against one of the outlying buildings and panted, gripping his side with one clawed hand in an attempt to will away the aching pain of fatigue. Had he done it?
A furtive look over the draco-pegasus’ shoulder revealed no pursuit. Spike’s ears twitched and turned, listening for the excited voices of the Cutie Mark Crusaders, but he could only hear the quiet bustle of a normal day in Ponyville. He’d done it. He’d gotten away from them. The Crusaders had tried to chase him—at least, he assumed they had. The ex-dragon had been making far too much noise himself to tell for sure.
Thinking back on it, Spike knew he should be chuckling right now. The sheer idea of a big chaos-twisted creature like himself getting chased out of the Everfree Forest by three harmless little fillies was hilarious. Okay, they weren’t exactly harmless per se; these were the Cutie Mark Crusaders after all. But still. It was funny, right? So why wasn’t he even smiling?
Spike ran his claws through his scraggly mane and breathed one last sigh as his heart rate finally slowed to normal levels. This was getting ridiculous. How long was he going to freak out about little things when he had bigger things to worry about, like the long-anticipated return of—
“Rainbow Dash!” a voice exclaimed.
“GAH!” screamed the draco-pegasus. His body reacted almost without his brain’s input, diving under the nearest shelter.
When the next few seconds of eyes-squeezed-shut cowering failed to produce multicolored explosions or the angry shouts of a mob, Spike hesitantly opened one eye and looked up. He nearly screamed again, but managed to turn it into a cough and a sheepish, “H-hi, Pinkie.”
Somehow in the reflexive haste to find cover, Spike had managed to dive under Pinkie Pie. Staring down at the ex-dragon for a moment longer than was comfortable, the mare giggled. “Sorry about that, ‘Spikebow Dash.’ It’s just that you look so much like Rainbow Dash that I mistook you—”
“Don’t. It isn’t funny. And stop calling me that,” Spike snapped. He held back the irritated snarl that was begging to escape and, jaw clenched, slid out from under the earth pony and climbed back to his hooves. To her credit, Pinkie Pie stayed quiet for a moment. Spike used the opportunity to dust himself off a bit and an awkward silence stretched out between pony and half-pony.
“I’m sorry, Spikeb—Spike,” Pinkie Pie said, hastily correcting herself. “I know you’re worried about Dashie coming back. Forgive me?”
The longer Spike hesitated, the more the earth pony’s big blue eyes threatened to fill with tears. Finally he groaned and nodded. “Fine, Pinkie. I forgive you. But seriously, stop calling me that. And don’t do things like joke about seeing Rainbow Dash. I’m serious!”
“You don’t want to see Rainbow Dash again?” Pinkie was still smiling as usual, but her voice had taken on a vaguely threatening tone. At least, it might have been threatening. It was always hard to know with Pinkie Pie.
“It’s… Yes! No. I don’t know. It’s… complicated,” sighed Spike.
“Hmm,” Pinkie Pie murmured, scratching her chin thoughtfully. With a happy exclamation the pony burst into motion again, leaping energetically around the surprised draco-pegasus. “Ooh! I’ve just had the bestest best idea! You know what would help you with your problem, Spikey?”
“A party?” Spike smiled slightly as he watched the pink mare prance around him in an excited circle.
Pinkie stopped bouncing for a moment, her expression switching abruptly from a wide grin to an annoyed frown. “What? Why does everypony always think that’s my answer to everything?”
The ex-dragon found himself scrambling to catch up with a conversation that had suddenly gone completely off the rails. “I… er… uh, because you throw the best parties, so we all just assume…?”
“Oh? Okay!” Pinkie Pie brightened again and prodded the ex-dragon’s belly. “Anyway, I think what you need is some lunch at Sugarcube Corner! My treat?”
“Thanks Pinkie, but I’m not—” Spike blushed as his polite refusal was rudely interrupted by his stomach’s emphatic growl of acceptance. Apparently having horrible nightmares and fleeing in unreasoning terror from three little fillies really helped work up an appetite. “Whoops, sorry. I guess I am.”
Pinkie grinned knowingly and bounced off towards the gingerbread house-like shape of the Cakes’ bakery. Shaking his head in amazement, Spike followed. How had she—oh, of course. Pinkie Pie. Stupid question.
* * *
Spike ate his food slowly, trying to avoid Pinkie Pie’s gaze. She was just sitting there, like she’d been ever since they’d taken a seat at the table in Sugarcube Corner’s front room. And she was staring. At him. With those eyes. Those horrible, horrible eyes. The ex-dragon had been chewing the same bite of cookie for the past two minutes, growing increasingly nervous under the baker’s scrutiny. Was he supposed to swallow? Was he eating the cookie incorrectly?
Spike couldn’t remember the last time Pinkie had been this quiet. She was—oh sweet Celestia, she wasn’t even smiling. The last time she hadn’t been smiling… He had to ask. “Er, Pinkie Pie?”
“Yes, Spikey?” The note of almost clinical detachment in the mare’s voice made portions of Spike want to curl into a ball and cry. This was unnatural.
The draco-pegasus finally swallowed the much-masticated bite of cookie and shifted uneasily in his chair. “Could you… Could you stop looking at me?”
Pinkie Pie’s brow furrowed for a moment as she considered the request. She shrugged and, without ceremony, turned around to stare fixedly at the wall. “Is this better?”
Despite the pony’s back being to Spike, he still felt her gaze on him. Any moment he expected a pair of eyes to rise out of the curly mop of her mane. “…No. You don’t need to stare at the wall. Um, look. Can you say something? Anything. It’s weird for you not to talk.”
“Aww but I was trying to be a good listener!” Pinkie said with a sigh. She swiveled in her chair, leaning forward with her front hooves propped up on the table. “Whatcha want me to say?”
“Just anything, I guess.” Waving one hand uncertainly, Spike took another bite of the cookie.
“Well, all right then.” Pinkie Pie thought for a moment and took a deep breath. “So today I was talking to Applejack and she said how crazy things have been since Discord got defeated. Has it? I mean it was pretty crazy before—that’s just recently before, not much earlier when he hadn’t escaped, but I guess the same as really really before when Princess Celestia and Princess Luna hadn’t defeated him the first time…”
Letting the torrent of words roll over him, Spike reached for another cookie. Now that Pinkie Pie wasn’t staring at him like a bug under one of Twilight’s microscopes, the baked goods tasted as amazing as usual—perhaps even more so.
If there was one good thing about Spike’s odd new form, it was the startling new vibrancy of some flavors. Before Discord, the best thing about cookies had been the delicate taste of the sodium chloride, the complex carbon compounds, et cetera. Now with a sense of taste that was part pony and part dragon, the draco-pegasus could finally appreciate the amazing balance of chocolate and– wait, what had Pinkie Pie just said? “I’m sorry, Pinkie, could you repeat that?”
“I bet that when she—hmm?” Pinkie Pie’s motor mouth screeched to a halt. “Repeat? Well okay. So today I was talking to Applejack and she said how crazy things have been since Discord got defeated. Has it?”
Spike shook his head, hastily trying to head off a rerun of the entire monologue. “No, no, no. I mean the part where you said something about my dreams.”
“Oh that.” As Pinkie shifted mental gears, she took the opportunity to avail herself of one of the cookies. Gesturing with half the baked good—which she was somehow holding in her hoof—and spitting a few crumbs, the mare repeated her earlier words. “I said, ‘I sure hope Dashie shows up soon so I can throw you two a big ‘Rainbow Dash times two’ party! And then you can stop having all these crazy nightmares about how she’s going to hurt you or run you out of town or things like that.’”
“How did you—” Spike started. “Oh, right. Pinkie Sense.”
Blinking, Pinkie Pie ate the rest of the cookie. And several more. Apparently talking was hungry work. “I don’t have a Pinkie Sense for dreams. Not that I remember, anyway. Twilight mentioned it when I went by the library earlier today to deliver some of these cookies since I knew she would be hungry when she woke up from her nap!”
“But I only told Twilight about the sonic rainbomb one,” Spike protested. “How do you—you’re not listening, are you?”
Pinkie wasn’t. Her eyes gazed dreamily off into the middle distance as her imagination got warmed up. “Besides, I know Dashie better than just about anypony. I don’t think she’d do something like that.”
“Uh, Pinkie?” Spike glanced around, his eyes widening. Was the room starting to grow dark?
The pink mare failed to hear Spike’s nervous attempts to catch her attention. The room continued to fade out as Pinkie continued, “If Rainbow Dash was going to be upset with you, Spikey, it would go something like this…”
* * *
Spike rubbed his eyes, trying to clear away the fog. Had he gone into some kind of trance from Pinkie’s bizarre story? He couldn’t even remember what it had been, now. He vaguely recalled the exuberant pony gesturing wildly and saluting, then jumping to one side to receive the salute almost in the same movement. To say it had been hard to follow would be to make the understatement of the year.
With a yawn, Spike glanced at his surroundings. He was still in Sugarcube Corner’s front room, so obviously Pinkie hadn’t felt the need to move him after he’d nodded off during her tale. He felt a bit guilty about that…
Green eyes gazed down at the crumbs on the empty platter lying forgotten at the table. Perhaps Spike hadn’t nodded off after all. If he’d eaten even half of the treats Pinkie Pie had brought out he’d probably put himself into a cookie-induced coma.
The draco-pegasus stood slowly, carefully pushing his chair back up to the table and trying to clean up as best he could. Despite the cheery sunlight pouring in through the windows of Sugarcube Corner, Spike felt faintly cold. Where was everypony? Usually the Cakes’ bakery was bustling at all hours, but in defiance of all expectations nopony seemed to be around.
Frowning, Spike remembered that he hadn’t even gotten to ask Pinkie Pie if she had any ideas on where to find Rainbow Dash. He had promises to keep, so he’d better get back to work. The ex-dragon cleared his throat. “Uh, hello? Pinkie Pie?”
After a few beats, the draco-pegasus shrugged and headed for the door. “Anyway, thanks for the cookies but I’d better go. See you later!”
Spike stood for a moment outside the bakery, squinting into the sky. The blue expanse was unmarred by any rainbow trails, scintillating waves of chromatic energy, or anything else that might herald the return of the ex-Element Bearer. The draco-pegasus nodded to himself and trotted out into the street.
The next closest friend was Rarity, but Spike found himself hesitating once again to visit her when there were other ponies to see. Even relayed through a cute little filly like Sweetie Belle, the sophisticated unicorn’s words stung. So his transformed body was ‘dreadful,’ was it? Equine ears drooping, the ex-dragon turned to head to Sweet Apple Acres.
Come to think of it, hadn’t Pinkie said something about Twilight waking up and being hungry? Spike sighed. As long as he was in the area, he’d better check on the over-studious unicorn and make sure that she was okay.
Spike nervously eyed the ponies around him as he walked up the street, his back stooped to make himself appear smaller and less threatening. Much to his surprise, the various mares and stallions of the town ignored him. It was almost as though he was the same old Spike they’d grown used to in past year and not the tall, chaos-twisted creature he’d become barely a week ago. The few nods of acknowledgement he got weren’t ecstatic cries of greeting, but it was a far cry from the grim, angry stares he’d dreamed up at Fluttershy’s cottage. The ex-dragon found himself straightening, walking with slightly more energy than before.
In no time at all, Spike was back at the Books and Branches library. He raised his hand to open the door, but partway through the motion he paused. There was a note pushed into the door jam. Deft claws plucked it free, and the draco-pegasus straightened the crumpled paper.
“‘Dear Faker…’” Spike blinked in surprise and started reading again. “‘Dear Faker: yeah, that’s right. I called you a fake! It’s me, the real Rainbow Dash! I challenge you to a—’ Whoops!”
A sudden gust of wind blew the paper from Spike’s shock-weakened grip. He reached for it, bending forward to grab the note before the rogue breeze blew it away. Sharp claws snagged the edge of the page and the draco-pegasus breathed a sigh of relief.
Behind Spike, something landed with a crash. The sounds of shattering wood filled the air as the library door gave way and the great hollow trunk of the tree swayed with the impact of… something. The former dragon hurried to the scene of the crash and peered in through the remains of the forcibly opened front door.
The letter dropped from suddenly numb claws as Spike stared down at the crumpled form of the mare whose position he’d usurped. Rainbow Dash’s hooves kicked weakly as she tried to right herself. A piece of utterly pulverized wood dropped from a dangling hinge and clattered to the floor. He looked at it for a moment. If he’d still been standing in front of the doorway just a moment later, what had happened to the door…
Still silent, Rainbow Dash finally managed to get to her hooves. She shook her head a few times to clear it and scowled up at her replacement, her eyes still spinning slightly from her recent collision with the library door. With a flap of her wings the pegasus took to the air and approached Spike, scratching her chin.
“What was that, Dash?! You tried to tackle me!” Spike said accusingly, smoke rising in short puffs from angrily flared nostrils. Cowering in fear of imagined attacks by Rainbow Dash might have been one thing, but now that he was facing the real deal, the new Element of Loyalty found that he didn’t intend to go down without a fight.
Rainbow Dash flew sedately, eyes never leaving Spike as she looked the draco-pegasus up and down. Spike shifted from hoof to hoof, trying to estimate the moment when Rainbow would do… whatever it was she intended to do.
Abruptly the grim atmosphere cleared as Rainbow Dash’s face broke into a smile. The leering grin was almost more threatening than the previous look of grim determination, but she no longer looked like she was going to try to murder anypony. Her voice seemed almost eager—but worryingly so. “Not bad, ‘Spikebow Dash.’ But I’m just getting warmed up. Are you mare enough to go the distance with the real thing?”
“‘The distance?’” Spike parroted confusedly. What was Rainbow saying? Did she…? Comprehension dawned as he remembered the note. “You’re challenging me?”
“Yeah!” shrilled Rainbow Dash. The draco-pegasus grunted as Rainbow jabbed him in the chest with one hoof. “Whitetail Woods in one hour! Be there or be mare, you weirdo jerk!”
Before Spike could respond, the pegasus was out the door. He stared after her. What the hay had that been all about? Forgetting where he was, he belatedly shouted, “No, uh, you’re the weirdo!”
“Spiiiiiiike! What’s going on down there?!” The ex-dragon flinched as Twilight Sparkle’s sleep-slurred floated down the stairs.
“N-nothing, Twilight!” Wincing, Spike took in the damage fully for the first time. The library was a mess. Rainbow Dash’s unsuccessful attack had knocked a good quarter of the books off the shelves and covered the library in a thin coating of dust—not to mention the shattered remains of the front door. It was going to take ages to clean this up.
“Don’t ‘nothing, Twilight’ me, Spike!” the unicorn snapped groggily as she trotted to the edge of the loft. “I’ve heard the windows and doors break in this place often enough thanks to… Thanks to…”
Twilight stared down at the wreck of her library. With a nervous cough, Spike grasped for the only thing that would save him now. “Good news, Twilight! I found Rainbow Dash! I—what are you doing? OhsweetCelestiapleasedon’tkillme!”
* * *
“I can’t believe you thought I was going to do something to hurt you!” Twilight groused, glaring up at Spike as the two of them walked down the road to Whitetail Woods.
“Look, Twilight, I’ve just had a really bad day, okay? I’m sorry!” Spike groaned. How in blue blazes was it that he was the one apologizing to Twilight Sparkle?
The pair’s bickering came to a sudden stop as Rainbow Dash’s… whatever-it-was… came into view through the edge of the trees. Spike couldn’t help but wonder if the pegasus had been missing for all this time because she was too busy building the ridiculous construction laid out before them. Towering cloud shapes, flaming hoops, swinging logs, and fluttering flags seemed to fill every available inch of ground and sky among the oaks, poplars, and other trees at the edge of the woods.
“Okay,” Twilight murmured out of one corner of her mouth, “Remember the plan, Spike. You play along while I try to get Rainbow to agree to some tests. We’ll have you back to normal in no time!”
“You didn’t ask me for permission when you wanted to run tests,” the draco-pegasus whined. His gaze swept across the dangerous looking tangle of pipes. Whatever Dash’s harebrained scheme was, it didn’t look too horrible, at least. This might even be kind of fun. Spike walked forward for a closer look, stepping past the nearest tree. There was a slight click as his hoof touched part of the roots.
A soft hissing sound was all the warning Spike got as a pendulum-like blade scythed through the air, nearly clipping off the end of his muzzle. It swung ponderously back and forth, the sharp metal of its edge glittering in the sunlight. Spike took a step back and whimpered. How was that even possible? “Twilight, I don’t like this plan any more. Playing along is a bad plan. Let’s go with plan B.”
Twilight Sparkle’s eyes swung from side to side as she tracked the blade, her voice faint. “Spike, this is plan B…”
A second swinging blade joined the first, arcing down out of the green canopy of the trees above. Spike took another step back, his wings fluttering uncertainly. “Plan C, then! Plan C!”
“So glad you could make it, ‘Spikebow Dash!’” Rainbow’s reedy voice threaded down through the trees a moment before the mare herself. She swooped down, zooming effortlessly between the swinging crescents of death and hovering before Spike’s eyes.
“I’m here,” Spike said. “But I think Twilight needs to ask you something first.”
Dash nodded, but she obviously wasn’t listening. The mare’s voice rose as she addressed a crowd of two as if they were a crowd of two thousand. “Fillies and Gentlecolts! Today we meet on the Element of Loyalty Obstacle Course to decide, once and for all, who the real Rainbow Dash is! Spoiler alert, it’s me!”
Spike leaned over to mutter in Twilight’s ear. “Should we…?”
“Here are the rules!” continued Dash, holding up one hoof as she continued to orbit her tiny audience. “One: If I do it, you have to do it too, or you lose a point. Two: if you leave the course or skip an event, you lose a point. Now, the scorekeeper—”
“Rainbow Dash,” interrupted Twilight, “I really need to ask you a few things.”
“Hah! Glad you volunteered for that, Twilight. I know you usually make Spike do everything, but that wouldn’t be fair in the circumstances since he’s a competitor.” Rainbow shoved a pencil and clipboard in Twilight’s direction and continued talking, oblivious to the unicorn’s angry spluttering. “So! Are you ready to have Rainbow Dash Classic kick your sorry flank, New Dash?”
“But I…” Spike exchanged a look with Twilight and grimaced. “Fine. But after this stupid competition, no matter what, Twilight gets to strap you down and run tests on you.”
“Don’t say it like that!” hissed Twilight.
Rainbow Dash waved a hoof dismissively. “Sure, no problem! After all, the real Dash would do anything for her friends! Not like somepony I could mention.”
Spike’s eyes narrowed. The pegasus’ needling was getting under his skin. Well at least it was for a good cause. And how hard could it be? “I’m ready, Rainbow Crash”
“Oh, so you’ve got a little fight in you now? Good ‘cause you’re going to need it. The first test is… The Circuit of Doom!” Fire flared in the pegasus’ eyes as she grinned confidently. As if on cue, gouts of flame brewed up from pipes throughout the obstacle course, blackening the leaves on a few trees.
* * *
Spike groaned and tried to lift his aching body from where he had collapsed. The ex-dragon could smell the distinctively acrid scent of burned hair. The smell was coming from several scorched patches on his pelt. He’d never been burned before. Then again, he’d never been an ex-dragon before.
The sound of approaching hooves finally gave Spike the motivation to look up. A worried Twilight Sparkle peered down at him, clipboard hovering at the ready. The draco-pegasus tried to smile, but even his mouth ached. He settled instead for an inarticulate, “Wuh?”
“You, uhm…” Twilight bit her lip and consulted the clipboard again, taking refuge in the comforting world of mathematics. She looked back to her battered assistant. “You got a point!”
“Oh. That’s good.” Spike said.
“A point out of forty.” Twilight scribbled on the sheet again. “But as long as you’re perfect on all the other events, you can… Well, you can still lose to Rainbow Dash I guess unless she disqualifies herself somehow.”
The draco-pegasus lay there for a moment, breathing slowly as he tried to gather the strength to do more than that. “Ugh. How many events have I done again?”
“Just the one.” The unicorn paused but her conscientious nature forced her to add, “Well, technically none. You still have to get through the second half of it.”
A flutter of wings told Spike that his competitor had returned, no doubt having taken a second lap through the course just to rub it in. He wanted to glare up at her, emerald eyes glittering dangerously, but he just didn’t have the energy.
Rainbow Dash sighed. “Sweet mother of Celestia, Spike. I don’t think I’ve ever seen anything like that. Did you even get airborne?”
Twilight nodded optimistically. “He did! For a few seconds, once.”
Rolling her eyes, Rainbow Dash orbited Spike. “I don’t know what to say, ‘Spikebow Dash.’ That was truly pitiful. Can you even continue?”
Growling his defiance, the draco-pegasus rolled over and pushed himself up. At least, he did until that simple movement burned up the last reserves of his energy. The world spun around him and Spike fell, landing in a heap at Twilight’s hooves.
The two ponies regarded the exhausted ex-dragon for a moment in silence, the only sounds to be heard being the various creaks, clashing, and thumps of Rainbow Dash’s obstacle course. Twilight smiled brightly. “Well, that’s over with. Time for testing! Right, Rainbow Dash?”
Dash frowned, shaking her head. “…No.”
“What? But you promised!” protested the unicorn.
“I said I would let you run tests on me after the competition. But the competition hasn’t even started yet! That was pitiful!” Rainbow Dash waved angrily at the nearly deadly obstacle course behind her. “Do you have any idea how long it took me to put this together, even with… with… What’s-her-name helping?”
“Scootaloo?” Twilight suggested.
Rainbow Dash shrugged. “Sure, whatever. Anyway, I didn’t waste hours of valuable nap time just to kick this faker’s sorry flank in anything less than an epic, no-holds-barred fight to the finish! If I’m going to prove myself as the real Rainbow Dash, it’s got to be awesome! And I know just how to do it!”
Rough hooves seized Spike, looping under his arms. He moaned, only half aware as he felt himself rise from the ground. Oh look, there was Twilight. She looked so small down there… down. Down there. Down… on the ground which was… moving away?! A surge of adrenaline jolted the draco-pegasus back into full consciousness. He looked up to see Rainbow Dash, panting a bit with the effort of carrying her suddenly struggling cargo. He looked back down. The ground was a long, long way away now. “GAH!”
“Don’t worry, Spike,” said Rainbow Dash. “When I’m done with you, you’ll be almost as awesome as me! I’m still going to kick your flank, though.”
“Let me go! Let me go!” Spike shrilled, fighting terror as he was dragged further into the sky.
“Oh you want to start learning to fly now? Sweet! That’s what I call motivation!” Before Spike could correct the pegasus, her hooves slipped out from under his arms. The ex-dragon hung for a moment… and dropped.
* * *
Spike rolled over and yawned. This bed was amazing! For once in his short time as a flight-capable creature, he didn’t feel any uncomfortable pressure on his wings when he lay on his back. Had Twilight gotten him a new mattress?
Whatever the new mattress was, it must have cost Twilight Sparkle quite a few bits. Spike couldn’t imagine it not being a best seller. The draco-pegasus wondered if the pony who ran the Quill and Sofa had dropped it off while he was out running his errands. It… wait. ‘Drop it off.’ Drop. There was something about that that sparked a memory. With his eyes still closed, the ex-dragon thought back to before he’d gone to sleep. He’d dreamed of falling, and—no wait. He hadn’t dreamed that at all!
Gasping in shock, Spike glanced around the fluffy white expanse of the cloud layer. He looked to his right and froze, clawed fingers digging into the surface of the cloud. The edge was right next to him and the ground was a long, long way down.
The soft sound of pegasus wings made Spike look up. Any excuse to wrench his eyes away from the horrible, yawning gulf only a short step away. In an instant, the sight of Rainbow Dash approaching him pushed any thoughts of falling right out of the worried ex-dragon’s mind.
“Well, well, well, look who finally decided to wake up,” snapped Rainbow Dash, glaring down at the draco-pegasus through a dark pair of sunglasses. She hovered over Spike, the light of the afternoon sun glittering off the gold pegasus wing on the front of her round, wide-brimmed brown hat. The entire affair reminded Spike vaguely of some of the Royal Guard training sergeants back at Canterlot.
“Rainbow Dash, what’s—” Spike started.
“On your hooves, Trainee! Position of attention, Move!” bellowed the pegasus.
Spike scrambled onto his hooves, swaying a bit as he stood up too fast. His body instantly locked into a stiff bipedal stance with his clawed hands clenched at his sides. Though wide with surprise, his eyes stared straight ahead.
Rainbow Dash nodded almost imperceptibly and began to fly lazy loops in front of the silent draco-pegasus. “Welcome to the cloud layer. I am Rainbow Dash, your senior flight instructor. From now on you will speak only when spoken to, and the first and last words out of your filthy sewer will be, ‘ma’am.’ Do you understand that, you fruit fly?”
“M-ma’am, yes ma’am!” Things were moving far, far too fast for Spike. He let his eyes drift for a moment, but quickly wrenched them back to Dash. It was better than looking down.
Rainbow Dash—Senior Flight Instructor Dash—snorted contemptuously. “Hah, I can’t hear you. Sound off like you got a pair!”
Spike tried again. “Ma’am, yes ma’am!”
“If you leave my cloud, you filly, if you survive training, you will be an instrument. You will be a minister of rain, praying for lightning!” Flight Instructor Dash paused for a moment to let that sink in. A flick of her wings took her back to the waiting flight trainee until her muzzle was mere inches from his. “But until that day you are worthless. You are the lowest form of life in Equestria. You are not even a pegasus bucking pony! You are nothing but an unorganized piece of dragon dung!”
The pegasus went back to her aerial pacing, flying slow laps in front of her one-creature formation. “You will not like me. But the more you hate me, the more you will learn. I am hard, but I am fair. There is no bigotry here. I do not look down on filly fanciers, colt cuddlers, sissy unicorns, or dirt ponies, except when I’m flying over them. Here everypony but me is equally worthless. And my intention is to weed out all the non-hackers who do not pack the gear to be the new Rainbow Dash and serve in my beloved Weather Corps. Do you understand that, you winged maggot?!”
“Ma’am, yes ma’am!” Spike answered, involuntarily glancing down again.
Flight Instructor Dash was between Spike and his view of the ground in a flash. “You look like you want to ask a question, Trainee! What’s your name?”
“It’s—” Spike quickly corrected himself as the senior flight instructor loomed over him. “Er, ma’am, you already know my name, ma’am!”
“That’s right, it’s Trainee Cupcake!” Dash shouted. “Do you like your name, Trainee Cupcake?!”
Spike hesitated. If he ever wanted to get down from this cloud again, he was going to have to learn to fly properly or to get Rainbow Dash to take him. Arguing with her was not likely to help with either unless he wanted another ‘learn as you go’ flying lesson. “Ma’am, I do, ma’am!”
“Well I’ll tell you what you won’t like, Trainee Cupcake!” snapped the Senior—and only, as far as Spike could tell—Flight Instructor. “I don’t serve emeralds and rubies every day here for lunch! Does that make you sad, Trainee?”
Spike suppressed a moan. It was going to be a long, long day.
* * *
Trainee Cupcake stood at the edge of the cloud layer, looking in askance at the gray puffs that floated in the empty space beyond. He’d been doing well so far—although his shoulders still burned at the thought of all those wing pushups. Now it was time for the basic flight course. But instead of a nice, unthreatening series of fluffy white obstacles, the draco-pegasus could see lightning flickering from storm cloud to storm cloud. He gulped.
“This is the basic flight training course!” Senior Flight Instructor Dash shouted in Trainee Cupcake’s ear. The pegasus floated gently out over the edge of the clouds, hovering in front of her victim and grinning evilly. She gestured to the course behind her. “Trainee Cupcake, you will weave between the cloud obstacles from there… to there… to there! You will complete at least one lap before being allowed a break for rest and refit!”
Trainee Cupcake brightened. Rest and refit didn’t sound too bad. The flight instructor had been pushing him hard all day, but now all he had to do was finish one lap through the course? “Ma’am! The trainee is ready, ma’am!”
“Then get out there, you griffin’s breakfast! Go! Move move move!” Circling the trainee, Senior Flight Instructor Dash smacked him in the back. He stumbled forward, reached the edge of the cloud… and stopped.
A gulf of several miles stretched out below the draco-pegasus. He opened his wings, but closed them again when a rogue gust of wind threatened to blow him off his perch at the edge of the clouds. Trainee Cupcake turned. “Ma’am! Trainee Cupcake has a question, ma’am!”
The flight instructor nodded. “One question and then stop stalling, you winged maggot!”
“Ma’am, the trainee requests to know why the flight course uses storm clouds, ma’am!” the draco-pegasus said.
Rather than answering right away, Senior Flight Instructor Dash flitted out to the closest of the clouds. She grabbed it in her forehooves and flew back, stopping when the pillow-sized puff of dark mist was close enough for Trainee Cupcake to reach out and touch. He didn’t. Instead, he remained resolutely at the position of attention. It was the only way to be sure. He had to remain perfectly still and silent when not—
Trainee Cupcake yelped when a lightning bolt sizzled past his ear. Senior Flight Instructor Dash cocked a hoof and bucked the cloud a few more times, sending more bolts zipping by the shivering draco-pegasus. The mare roared, “Trainee Cupcake, you are here to become a bucking weather pony, not some kind of frou-frou little short-hop ground flyer!”
More lightning crackled as the flight instructor pounded the storm cloud again and again with each emphatic point. “The princesses have a wingboner for weather ponies, because we can kick any cloud we see! They plays their games, we play ours! To show our appreciation for so much power, we keep the heavens packed with fresh storms! The royal pony sisters were here before the weather corps! So you can give you heart to Luna, but your flank belongs to the corps! Do you understand?”
“Ma’am! So the trainee must be used to flying in storms at all times, ma’am?” Trainee Cupcake hazarded. That was… a mistake. Senior Flight Instructor Dash wheeled on him, eyes blazing.
“What part of ‘one question and then stop stalling’ did you not understand?! Get out there, now!” thundered the pegasus, sending one last bolt of lightning zipping by the trainee. He ducked, overbalanced, and started to fall.
Trainee Cupcake’s arms flailed as he tumbled over the edge and into empty space. His wings flared and caught the air. A horrified shout turned into an exhilarated whoop as the draco-pegasus found himself hovering instead of plummeting to his doom. He hung in the air for a moment and glanced at his flight instructor. She glared back. “Oh, that’s right, Trainee. Don’t make any bucking effort to get to end of the bucking flight course. If Celestia would have wanted you there she would have miracled your flank out there by now, wouldn’t she?!”
Flapping his wings harder than before, Trainee Cupcake darted forward and jinked around the first cloud. His mane rose slightly, sparks crackling at the ends of the hairs as he zipped by. Panting for breath, he reversed his turn and slipped around the second obstacle. He was doing it! Every wing beat gave the draco-pegasus a new personal record. All he had to do was concentrate on the course and not look—down.
Trainee Cupcake’s heart froze as he stared at the world below. A small, distracted part of him realized he could see his house from here—and not the one in Ponyville, but the one in Canterlot. With a yelp of fear, the draco-pegasus wrenched his eyes back up. He was just in time to see blue streaks of electricity arcing across the surface of the storm cloud right before he crashed into it.
A massive bolt of lightning shot out of the cloud, transfixing the unlucky ex-dragon and searing the air over Senior Flight Instructor Dash’s hat. She tugged off the brown round for a moment and stared at it. Smoke rose from the crown. Snarling, the pegasus rammed the hat back on her head and tore onto the course after her so-called replacement. “What the buck was that, you scumbag?!”
Smoke puffed out of Trainee Cupcake’s mouth as he tried to respond. He could smell burning tin. He coughed up another puff of smoke. Balancing carefully on the small storm cloud, the draco-pegasus climbed to his hooves and flapped his wings until their movements synched up. Still wheezing, he swayed and tried to focus on the irate ball of rainbow-maned fury that hovered inches away from his muzzle. She seemed to be saying something.
“Are you quitting on me, Cupcake? Well, are you?” the flight instructor shouted.
Trainee Cupcake blinked and nodded. Quitting. An end to pain. That sounded good.
If anything, Senior Flight Instructor Dash seemed more irate than before. “Then quit, you slimy bucking goofy-looking piece of dung! Get the buck out of my airspace! Get the buck down out of my airspace! Now! Move it! Or I’m going to rip your wings off!”
With slow beats of his somewhat singed wings, Trainee Cupcake struggled to get back to the cloud layer. Lightning arced off him as he flew, grounding itself in the clouds as he passed them.
Trainee Cupcake reached the main cloud layer and folded his wings, crashing into it face-first. It felt wonderful. As his consciousness faded, the last thing he heard was Rainbow Dash’s shrill and angry shout. “I will motivate you, Trainee Cupcake, if I have to neuter every diamond dog in the Everfree Forest!”
* * *
Spike stared at Pinkie Pie in horror, half-eaten cookie raised halfway to his open mouth. His limbs burned with sympathetic fatigue. A small, intellectual part of his brain knew he’d been frozen like this for the past twenty minutes. The rest of him was simply agog at the tale that the pink party pony had been spinning without end. It was almost a shock that she’d stopped for the moment.
The draco-pegasus cleared his throat, trying to keep his voice steady. “Ma’am! The trainee requests—er, and what happened then, Pinkie?”
Pinkie Pie scarfed down the last of the cookies and shrugged. “Dunno! I haven’t thought of that yet! So, what’d you think, Spikey? Better than sonic rainbombs and lynch mobs, right?”
“I’m… I’m not sure.” Spike stood up slowly and pushed in his chair. Somehow, his entire body ached just from hearing about the imaginary Weather Corps basic training.
“Are you sure you feel okay, Spike? I’ve got some cupcakes if you’re still hungry,” offered Pinkie, eyeing the shaky creature with concern.
Cupcakes?! Spike suppressed a shudder at the term. “Ma’am, the trainee does not—I mean, no thanks I’ve got to… er… I’ve got to check on Rarity and see if she knows where Rainbow Dash might be! Well see you thanks a lot good talk gottagorightnowbye!”
The bell rang as Spike hurried out the door of Sugarcube Corner and up the street towards the Carousel Boutique. Pinkie looked after him in puzzlement. “Gee, if Spike wanted to know where Rainbow Dash was, why didn’t he just ask me?”
Pinkie Pie took the emptied cookie tray and carried it back to the kitchen, spitting it out into the sink. “I mean, I usually know where to find you no matter what. Isn’t that right, Dashie? How are the cupcakes?”
Rainbow Dash stiffened. She’d been made. The pegasus sheepishly peeked her head out her hiding place, wiping cupcake crumbs off her muzzle. “H-hey, Pinkie. They’re good…”
A/N: ARRRGGGGGGHHH why was this chapter so hard to write?! Rainbow Dash acting like a massive tool and shouting at Spike using quotes stolen practically word for word from Full Metal Jacket?—it practically writes itself!
I actually feel worse than you might think for the delays in this chapter. I had hit upon both the idea of a crazy competition AND ‘Flight Instructor Dash’ before I had even heard a word of May the Best Pet Win. If I would have hurried up on the stupid thing and finished it before that episode previewed / aired, I would have looked like a prophetic genius. Instead, I didn’t finish this chapter until after season two ended. At least I consoled myself by sticking with my original plans and resisting the temptation to add in references to the real episode (quarry eels, ‘Radicalness,’ et cetera).
That’s what I get for distracting myself with other story ideas. Heck, that’s what I get for publishing before I finish a story. That’s not going to be a mistake I make again, I can assure you.
Anyway for anyone still interested / reading this despite the long delays, want to know what the next chapter will be? Well, as you may have guessed, it will be Rarity’s chapter.
Hopefully you will still enjoy chapter six, tentatively titled… The Love That Dare not Speak Its Name. Yes, the chapter that was the reason I initially made ‘Spikebow Dash’ a girl before deciding that was an atrociously bad call. Like I said no more publishing incomplete works for this guy.
…See you in three months trolololololol.