A chuckle escaped Spitfire's muzzle as Fleetfoot and Misty tugged her towards the bar of the club the Wonderbolts were partying in tonight. “C'mon, cap!” Fleetfoot smiled, giving Spitfire an encouraging nod as the fiery mare chose a stool and plopped down unceremoniously. The bar was packed with only the most important of ponies, and yet no one caught Spitfire's eye as she glanced around the crowd. She did manage a half-smile as her teammates stumbled away, clearly enjoying the club and all the booze it offered them. They deserved it. But she didn't.
It had been months since she let Trixie run off, crushed by her failure in front of hundreds if not thousands of ponies. She hadn't caught even a glance of the azure mare since her departure. Spitfire had even resumed searching her fan-mail diligently, and continued to do so every time she stopped by her home in Cloudsdale. There was always an excuse for her frequent trips home: “I have to water my plants” or “I'm worried someone broke in” or even “I need to feed my cat”. She was allergic to cats, and she was pretty darn sure her friends knew that. But whenever she made one of her excuses, they were kind and accepting. They managed without her, but she didn't know if that made her feel better or worse.
Regardless, she always left home disappointed.
She wasn't quite sure why this situation had rooted itself so deeply into her mind, nor was she sure why it affected her so greatly after so much time. Spitfire was not a pony who clung to her problems or failures; if it was in the past, she didn't need to worry about it. But she still felt a guilty pang in her stomach whenever she saw the right shade of blue...
Spitfire had memorized that shade of blue; Trixie had never returned for her photos from the Young Performer's Camp. Spitfire had kept them for a lot longer than she intended, relieving the memories over and over with each viewing, as if they held some kind of time travel magic. Trixie had never asked for them to be returned to her, and Spitfire had never seen a reason to do so; the two saw each other every day thanks to Trixie's short-lived work as the Wonderbolts' effects mare. Another pang of guilt. Spitfire should have cherished the days that she got to spend time with Trixie, even if it was spent mostly at work.
After a quick glance over her shoulder to ensure her friends were out of sight, Spitfire pushed away from the bar's counter and trotted towards the exit, dodging dozens of drunk, giggling, writhing ponies along the way. She was grateful to see everyone was here to celebrate her team's accomplishments, but she knew that she would only spoil their fun if she stuck around. Finally arriving at the door, a rush of warm air flooded the lobby as she pulled it open and stepped outside.
As she ambled down the streets of... where was she again? She narrowed her eyes in thought but the name escaped her. Some small town... ugh. She barely had anything to drink and she still couldn't recall something as important as her current location. Such a lightweight, she thought to herself. Huffing, she tapped the closest pony on the shoulder. “Hey, where are we?” she grumbled.
“Er...” The pony, a dusty golden stallion wearing a brown vest and hat (and smelling strongly of apple cider) looked back at her in disbelief. “We're on 4th Street, ma'am.”
“No no no,” Spitfire hissed impatiently. “What town are we in?”
The apple-scented stallion's emerald colored eyes grew even wider. “Are y'feeling okay, miss...?”
Spitfire groaned and shook her head, rubbing at her temple with a hoof. “I'm fine, just tell me where we are, please,” she replied through gritted teeth.
“Well, we're in Aaaaaaaappleloosa, of course!” Standing on his hind legs and waving around his forelegs, the stallion shot her a wide smile. “Why, would ya like a tour?! We got apple trees, apple pies, apple fritters, apple-”
Thankfully, his speech was cut off by Soarin as he half-stumbled half-dashed through the crowd of ponies outside the bar. Spotting the yellow pegasus, he halted and shouted at the top of his lungs. “Spitfire! There's something weird going on at Ponyville! The town has been taken over!” The throng of ponies began to panic, scattering and shouting as they collided with each other. Spitfire sighed; Soarin didn't know the first thing about keeping things like this from the public. “Hurry!” he added as he took to the skies, headed towards the apparently endangered town.
“Well shucks, that don't sound too good, huh?” Unfortunately, the golden-brown stallion had not been one of the ones to scatter in fear. “Do me a favor, would ya? If ya see an orange pony with three apples for a cutie mark-” what a shock, thought Spitfire, more apples- “and she's in trouble, please make sure to get her out of it.” Spitfire felt this was an unnecessary request, seeing as she'd be saving everypony and not just ones who had friends that requested their safety, but she nodded dutifully all the same before taking off after Soarin.
Hey, at least it was something to do.
***
“It's no use!” Fleetfoot sighed, plopping down on the... force-field... that now surrounded Ponyville. “Whoever made this thing must have some crazy strong magic.”
“Who do you think it was, Spits? Nightmare Moon, maybe?” Soarin, still visibly drunk, looked towards his captain with fearful eyes.
“Don't be stupid,” Spitfire hissed, a headache pounding forcefully against her temples as she struggled to keep herself from snapping. “Nightmare Moon is gone, and even if she wasn't, what would she want with Ponyville?”
Lightning Streak ran his hoof over the dome as he muttered something. “Speak up, Lightning,” Spitfire ordered.
Jumping in surprise and blushing, he stammered “E-Er, I only mentioned that Twilight Sparkle lives in Ponyville, and she's, like, the p-princess's personal protege.”
Twilight Sparkle. Why does that name sound so familiar? Spitfire shrugged it off; if this Twilight Sparkle was important to the princess, certainly somepony else had mentioned her before. Still, there was a nagging feeling that this information was especially vital somehow. “Well, if Twilight Sparkle is in there now,” she pointed out, tapping the dome with a hoof, “then I guess they're in good hooves.” She felt uneasy about this situation, though. It tugged at her instincts and the memory tried to fight through the fog in her brain, but she just couldn't remember why Twilight was important...
“Well, should we go home then?” Fleetfoot asked hopefully. Her eyes were bloodshot and there was obvious desperation in her voice.
“Uh, well...” Spitfire flicked her tail, struggling to think through this grogginess. “You three can go home.” There was instant relief in Fleetfoot's eyes. “I think I'll stay here a while longer, just to make sure things turn out okay. Something doesn't seem right about this...” Shaking her head and immediately regretting it as her headache reminded her that it was still there, she added, “Besides, I promised some apple pony that I'd make sure his friend was okay.”
“I'll make sure everyone get's home okay, ma'am,” Lightning Streak promised with a salute. Spitfire couldn't help but smile; the young stallion was always the mother hen of the group, watching over his teammates and keeping them out of trouble. Sure he was less fun at parties, but he was a valuable asset.
“Thanks. You guys be careful now. If anything happens, I'll clue you guys in tomorrow at practice.” As her friends flew off- carefully guided by Lightning Streak's watchful eye- Spitfire settled herself in on top of the dome and rested her head between her hooves, surrendering to her thoughts.
Her first thoughts were of her team. They were brave, intelligent ponies, and each day she grew more and more proud of them. But at the same time, she was worried. She'd never wanted to be a leader until she thought about how many ponies she could inspire by teaching them what she knew. But her team... She'd taught them everything already. They didn't need her guidance to be great, not anymore. And now that her reason for leading others was wearing thin, she felt overwhelmed by all of her other duties. All the paperwork, all the sponsors, the signings, the meetings, the scheduling. It was driving her mad. This was made worse, of course, by the absence of Trixie...
Spitfire might not have been a perfect pony, but she cared so deeply for her friends that it hurt sometimes. Because of this, she often found herself giving more than she had to offer. Trixie had been no exception to the case. A job, stable income, a place to stay, a friend to talk with: Spitfire had given the blue unicorn all of this and more and still she wasn't satisfied. Trixie still ranted and raved about how far she'd fallen, and how she would never be good enough. It wore her down and in turn, it wore down the one providing all these things for her as well. Despite all the she had given to Trixie, when a problem arose, Trixie immediately turned high-tail and ran, never looking back. And Spitfire had not even tried to get her back. She had not even gotten to know her old friend again before she left; work had gotten in the way and Spitfire didn't bother to make more time. She was a useless friend. A horrible friend. An awful-
The Wonderbolt's pity party cut short as the dome below her seemed to evaporate. She would have been intrigued by this had she not been free-falling, plummeting towards the ground. In her tipsy state, it took her too long to right herself, and she hit the ground with a crack. Searing pain shot through her leg, and she realized quickly that she had a broken leg. Yelping with her attempts to stand, Spitfire laid her head down on the ground and sobbed. There was nopony nearby, and she would have felt like a fool crying out for help. She was a fool. Who had ever heard of a Wonderbolt who couldn't recover from a fall? Defeated (by gravity, of all things), Spitfire gave in to the warmth of sleep, her hurt leg throbbing as her brain slowly shut down.
***
It smells like apples.
Is that apple stallion back? I sure hope not. I don't think I could stand hearing about apples again. Ugh.
Lifting her groggy head from where she lay, the fiery-maned pegasus realized she was not on the ground outside Ponyville anymore. Well, not unless Ponyville had been turned into a large and comfortable bed. And if that was the case, then her leg...
Crying out, she gasped and instantly regretted trying to move the injured limb. Yep, the ground had definitely not been made of pillows and fluff when she hit it. Wincing, she glanced over at her leg and noticed it was still not dealt with. Swollen, maybe, but luckily the bone had stayed inside her body. It was far from the worst injury she'd ever received.
“Well, howdy there!”
The sudden voice startled Spitfire, causing her to jump and once again, strain her leg. “OW OW OW!” Spitfire screeched, taking to the air to keep weight off the useless limb.
“Oh, Celestia. Ah'm sorry!” The voice belonged to an orange mare, her messy blonde mane pulled into a ponytail haphazardly. Her wide green eyes stared up at Spitfire in horror. “Ah'll go get ya some ice an' call for a doctor!” As she turned to the side to exit the room, Spitfire caught a glance of her flank.
“Wait! Appleloosa!” she called, lowering herself to the ground as she held her broken leg tenderly above the ground. The earth pony backtracked, tilting her head to the side in confusion. “Your friend from Appleloosa. He's uh... brownish? And he wears a hat. A cowboy hat.” Spitfire felt so woozy from the night before. “He asked me to make sure you were okay.” The pegasus grinned like a madmare. “And you are. Yay.”
“Uh... right. Ah am. And that wasn't my friend, he's my cousin. His name's Braeburn.” The mare chuckled, extending her hoof towards Spitfire and immediately taking it back given the yellow mare's leg's current status. “Sorry. Ah'm Applejack. And Rainbow Dash told me your name. Spitfire. Sorry but Ah don't watch a whole lotta sports.” Applejack grinned sheepishly. “It's all apples apples apples over here.”
Spitfire groaned.
“Oh right, your ice. Be back in a flash! Hopefully a doctor will be here soon. Mighta been earlier if Trixie hadn't-”
“Trixie?!” Spitfire's head shot up. “As in the Great and Powerful Trixie? Trixie was here?”
Applejack looked puzzled. “Ayep. You know her too, huh? She the reason your leg is broken?”
“No! No of course not, she's my friend...” Spitfire had to admit, Trixie was partially the reason she was in this condition, but mostly that had been her own fault. “Is she still here?”
Snorting, the earth pony shook her head. “Naw, your little friend headed out pretty soon after Twilight showed her what's what. Though it ain't right to blame it all on Trixie, she was under some kinda weird ancient spell...”
Confused and sore, Spitfire let out some kind of exasperated grunt.
“Ice! Ah gotta get the ice. Ah'll be back before you can say lickity split.” Applejack dashed out into the hallway, her hoofsteps fading away as Spitfire struggled to make sense of everything. Trixie was here. Recently. She knew if she waited around, the doctor would have to set her leg and she'd probably be forced to rest... She had to go. Hm... Not in any shape to walk, but luckily you don't need legs to fly. Plus I did what I said I would; apple pony is safe. As quietly as possible, Spitfire creaked open the nearby window with her good leg and awkwardly shuffled outside. I have to find Trixie.
***
She wasn't sure how long she'd been flying. She wasn't even sure she'd headed the right way. But she was sure that she was glad Soarin found her and brought her to the nearest hospital, because she was close to blacking out from pain. Having her leg set had hurt, but the pain pills knocked it out the pain as well as her consciousness. A well deserved nap, indeed.
When she awoke, the first thing she saw was a ton of flowers. Dozens of ponies must have sent them in; it warmed her heart. As her eyes scanned over them, one bouquet caught her eye. A bouquet that was a certain shade of blue.
The tag read “Meet me at the hotel. 5pm sharp. Don't be late; I promise I won't be either. Not this time.”
***
Spitfire wasn't late.
When she arrived at the Manehattan hotel, she wasn't greeted by Trixie, though. A pale pink mare ran up to her the moment she stepped inside the lobby. “Spitfire!” she exclaimed, waving a piece of paper back and forth in her magic excitedly. “First of all, it's awesome to finally meet you! I'm a huge Wonderbolt's fan!” The unicorn beamed, raking her eyes over Spitfire with awe. “But, um.” She shook her head. “That's not why I'm here! Somepony sent me to wait for you to arrive. And she's up in...” She scanned the piece of paper in her grasp. “Ah! Room 517. She says...” She began to read off the card. “'Don't keep Trixie waiting.' Huh. I guess I should let you go then.” The mare looked disappointed.
“Uh... I have time for a photo, if you want,” Spitfire replied. She needed to get to that room, but the look on the young mare's face... She couldn't let another pony down.
After the photoshoot and short conversation, it was still only 4:52pm. Close enough, Spitfire thought as she hobbled up the stairs, too impatient to wait for the elevator. With her leg in a cast, she knew she was probably much slower than even the most rickety elevator, but she was too stubborn to wait regardless. By the time she reached the fifth floor, she was out of breath and sweaty. She fumbled around the pocket of her suit, searching desperately for the key card to her room. “Aha!” Shaking as she ran it through the scanner, Spitfire took a deep breath and opened the door.
She was immediately greeted by Trixie's lips on her own.
At first, Spitfire was tempted to embrace the moment. To sink into the kiss and enjoy something that she had been denying for a long time. But Spitfire had never been a pony to live only for the moment. If she went through with this, if she had a relationship with Trixie before she even really knew her...
No.
Spitfire pulled away, looking down at the floor. “Hello would have sufficed.”
Not getting the memo, Trixie rubbed her cheek across Spitfire's, nibbling at her neck. “But Trixie thought you deserved a very special hello.” The azure mare was practically purring, but she stopped when she noticed how badly Spitfire was shaking. “Hm? What's wrong?” Trixie pulled back and noticed the tears in Spitfire's eyes. “Did Trixie do something wrong?”
“Yes.”
Hurt, Trixie took a step back, holding a hoof in front of her chest. “Oh.”
Tired of beating herself up, tired of feeling guilty and hurt for the past three months, Spitfire exploded. “You left me! I gave you a place to live! I gave you a job! I gave you all my free time, and how do you thank me?! By leaving the second something goes wrong!” Spitfire sighed, a growl escaping her lips. “You don't bother to contact me for months, and then you think you can make up for it with a kiss?” The yellow mare knew she was being unfair. She knew she was being hurtful. And she didn't care. “I don't want you, Trixie. Not like that. I just wanted to be sure you were safe. And you are. So...” She gave a hefty sigh. “Leave.”
For once, Trixie didn't listen. “No, Trixie isn't going anywhere.”
“I'll call security.”
“Do what you must.”
Crap. Trixie had always been good at calling Spitfire's bluff. “Fine, you can stay. But we're gonna talk this out, like adults. Like platonic adults!” Rubbing her head and glancing down at her leg, she let out another sigh. “But not tonight. I'm too tired.”
After taking off her suit and quickly eating an apple (oh how she wished it wasn't the only thing in the hotel), Spitfire settled into her bed, snuggling into the freshly cleaned sheets. She was almost asleep when she felt them rustling. She cracked open an eye and spotted an azure figure sneaking into her bed, barely visible in the silver moonlight. “No,” she grumbled. “Couch.” The figure froze briefly and then retreated, back down the hall and into the living room. With a satisfied grunt, Spitfire rolled over. Try as she might, she could not manage to get back to sleep. It was so cold... It would be nice to share her bed with somepony. Somepony blue and beautiful and...
No.
Couch, she reminded herself. That's where Trixie belonged.
Definitely not in her arms.
Please, Celestia. Raise the sun early.