//------------------------------// // Office job // Story: My idiot // by Marshall_Evergreen //------------------------------// Sitting alone in a boring office was Soarin, the Wonderbolt. For years he had trained, anxious to do what he loved: fly! Now, he was second in command of a cracking team of flyers, acrobats and athletes. The best in all of Equestria, possibly even the best in Wonderbolt history. Out there in the sky, he had no worries, no obligations. Out there in the sky, he was free! And here he was, half asleep in a room full of books and paper work. What a lie that all was. In the sky, true you had absolute freedom of space around you, but you also had to be aware and sharp, always ready for the next move and roll. Then there are storms, cyclones, twisters and all sorts of nasty stuff that can happen out there. Get a wing cramp a hundred metres up and that's it. You're dead. So yeah, the sky was totally free, so long as you are willing to pay the price of risk and danger. But hey, that's what makes fun. In all seriousness, you are perfectly safe when experience is on your side. Flying is fun if you can stay up. Free falling is fun if you know how to pull up. Training to fly, is what allows to be free in the sky. Otherwise, one would be at the mercy of every gust. Wings aren't just a gift, but a responsibility. That statement may have caused anypony to keel over in mocking laughter. But what some ponies don't realise is this: just because a Pegasus is born with wings, doesn't make them a natural flyer. Everypony has to work hard to fly; some more than others. That's why it was a privilege and a great responsibility to be the one of the drill instructors. He was a part of something big, something greater: something that filled him with pride! He had the opportunity to help young mares and stallions, just like he had been years ago, better themselves. It was so nice to see the youth invest in their future. ... 'Sweet Celestia, did that sound old.' He thought to himself. But one thing was certain for Soarin: he took this job very seriously. So where in the wretched job description did it mention paper work and office-sitting? Soarin's expression became even more pitiful as he slumped forward in his chair, allowing his head to knock frustratedly against the table. Then there was a knock at the door. Grateful for a reason to be distracted from his paper work analysis, Soarin perked up and cleared his throat, before laying his hooves out in front of him on the desk. He hoped he looked professional. "Come in." He called in a measured tone. The door opened and Scootaloo stepped in. "Sir." She saluted before proceeding further. She stood at attention, tall, with her eyes focused forward. Her expression was serious, mainly out of respect, or maybe the kid was just wound up a bit tight. Soarin chuckled, amused and charmed at how much 'Rainbow Dash' had worn off on the young mare. Soarin stood and saluted back, noting her presence. "At ease, cadet. What's up Scoots?" He said smiling. "Don't feel you have to do all that fancy stuff when we aren't in a drill." "Okay," Scootaloo said, somewhat unsure of herself in this alien situation. How was she supposed to feel relaxed while addressing the sergeant? "But I don't wanna get too casual. Wouldn't want to undermine your authority." She said chuckling, trying to get relaxed. "Plus, I find the whole 'stand to attention' thing thrilling in a way." Soarin admired the excitement and energy, that just seemed to emit from the young rookie. She was definitely a great addition, though she wasn't the strongest flyer, making-up for whatever she lacked in the sky with a positive attitude and optimism. She was modest and chill; that, he could handle. Motioning for her to take a seat, he proceeded to clear a space on his desk, putting the towering stack of ominous paper work aside. Leaning back on the table, he was grateful for this opportunity to stand and stretch his legs; he had been at that desk for what seemed an eternity. "So," he began with a smile: something he seemed to do a lot. "What brings you here? Wing pain? Ear ache? Autograph? Or boredom...because if it's boredom, you've come to the wrong place to cure it!" Soarin rolled his head back in a fit of laughter. A good laugh was just what he needed right now. Scootaloo shifted uncomfortably. "Yeah, you see, I came to talk about my team, Delta squad..." She said, rubbing the back of her neck sheepishly. "I see." Soarin said. Though he was still smiling, it had shrunk as he spoke the words in tone that betrayed his cheery nature. His tired eyes seemed grow more heavy and his shoulders went slack. Scootaloo was amazed at how much she had learned about the stallion just after a few brief encounters. Despite appearing aloof and relaxed, she could tell he was committed and extremely passionate. His warm smile and windswept mane complemented his cool, fun-loving nature. He could have been anypony's uncle, caring personally for each member of the team. Maybe this was why he now looked so dejected. His emotions were so clear and pronounced in his body language and demeanour, that it hurt her to see him upset over her discomfort. "What's the problem?" he asked in a serious tone, folding his front legs over each other, genuinely interested in the situation. After all, they were his responsibility, he needed to make sure everything worked. Scootaloo recoiled slightly at Soarin's choice of words. "I never said it was a problem..." she began with a slight defensive tone to her words. "You wouldn't have brought it up otherwise." he put bluntly. Perfectly aware that she was now just stalling and beating around the bush, she averted her gaze from Soarin to wander the room, until she could come up with the courage to continue the somewhat 'touchy' subject. As she was looking around, she began to finally take note of her surroundings. The office was plain, organised and tidy. There was a poster or two on the wall, but nothing too flashy. Evidently the room was only used now and again, and not as a long term work station. But there were still bits and pieces that spoke of whose office it was; clues that would have been missed unless given close attention. The most obvious clue was the wonderbolt mug, sitting, steaming on the desk. Then there were the papers that bore Soarin's signature and rank. Then there was the desk itself. It was clean and organised, the pencils and quills laid out perfectly in a row, as if they were standing to attention: each item distanced from the next with exact precision. This was a guy that evidently took his job seriously. It's fascinating how much you can learn about a pony just from looking at their body language, listening to their words, and studying their place of work. Scootaloo smiled when she spotted a Wonderbolt's scarf with Rainbow's name on it, hanging from a coat hook. "Well..." she began apprehensively, stroking a hoof on the ground, trying to choose her words carefully, "it isn't the idea of a team, more of who's in the team." Soarin nodded, waiting for her to finish before he jumped to conclusions, his keen, stoic expression never faltering. "It's my Wing Pony sir. I fear he will be uncooperative, reckless and unwilling to listen. We were told training would be intense, I can't have him damaging the chances of the team's success, possibly the entire group's success!" "You mean your success?" Soarin said, his eyes closed as he focused on what Scootaloo had just said. "Excuse me?" She replied in confusion, a little startled by what seemed to be an accusation. She couldn't help sounding a little indignant. "Are you telling me this isn't a personal affair?" Soarin pressed. "No! I-" she stammered. He was supposed to be helping her, not blaming her! "Calm down." Soarin sighed, his expression softening. "look, I'm sorry if what I said offended you in some way," his words were genuine and his tone sincere, "but I think you know Rumble isn't the only problem, Scootaloo." She was silent; head bowed as she stared at the ground. "I notice you two have a bit of tension between you, but I have every bit of faith in you and your team pulling together. You'd be amazed at what can happen under certain circumstance. but you need to be willing to work with him as well, and put differences aside." 'Mixed', was how Scootaloo would have described her current standing. On one hand, she saw Soarin's words as true and logical... But he was asking too much. How could she work with a colt, who was so caught up in performing and impressing, to even think about working with others? "Why me?" Scootaloo grumbled quietly, not able to hide her disappointment in what Soarin had said. "Because I can't have tensions between the both of you, if you're going to work together efficiently. Both of you need to give everything, not just to yourselves, but to your team; and your team will give everything to you. That's how it works. Bad blood on the ground means bad flying in the air." She watched the ground quietly. This was not what she'd wanted to hear. Why didn't he understand? Maybe Soarin did. Maybe it was her that's the problem. ... 'Stupid brain.' She thought frustratedly, 'Why do you have to make sense?' Even she was against herself. But whatever; she was here to fly, not to be conflicted! "Okay?" Soarin asked with warm concern. Shaken from her thoughts, Scootaloo looked up and gave a weak smile. "Okay." She said meekly, still terribly unsure of the entire debacle. Despite not hearing what she'd wanted to, maybe that was for the best. Anyway, she was still grateful to Soarin and his advice. He was cool that way. Soarin smiled and ruffled her hair a bit. "Attagirl!" He said warmly, "Now go have some fun, break time's almost over." She also appreciate that he took her success as a personal interest. The fact that it helped Rainbow like him twenty percent more was just a bonus. A bonus that was more than happily received. "Thanks." Scootaloo smiled, turning to leave. She stopped just before she reached the door, hanging on a question that hadn't yet been answered. "Just one more thing." She called back to Soarin. Soarin turned back to look at her standing in the doorway, looking somewhat apprehensive. "Me. Lead Pony. Why?" This was the one thing that still perplexed her. Hopefully an answer would put her mind at rest. "Why?" Soarin chuckled. "Because if anypony can teach that colt patience in his capabilities and learning, it's you." She nodded knowingly, understanding exactly what he meant. "And Featherweight?" "Call that artist's insight." At this they both laughed, as Scootaloo left the room, closing the door behind her. Soarin continued to smile after she'd left. Then he turned to see the stacks of paperwork, still on his desk. Mocking him. Soarin's expression immediately changed to one of dispair as he buried his muzzle into his hooves, folding his wings over his head. "I can't see you. You can't see me." Like a ghost from the past come to haunt him, he could feel the all-too-familiar shadow of boredom loom over him. He sighed. "No rest for the weary." He muttered. A couple minutes later and Soarin was sitting at his desk. The snores emanating from his nostrills were clear indicators that boredom had ultimately won the battle. The office was completely silent aside from the occasional grunts and snores, until a stifeled giggle from a Rainbow maned mare broke the stillness. Rainbow Dash had entered the room to find Soarin, face on desk, snoring up a storm, occasionally blowing a stray piece of paper to the floor. Frankly, it was adorable, and Rainbow found herself just standing and watching, smiling warmly. But all good things come to an end. Rainbow's eyes narrowed as a mischievous (bordering on evil) smile crossed her face. Then she closed her eyes, focusing on what she was doing. Steadying her breathing was the first step. Next: gulp. Let it sit... Then release! What started as a light grumble in her stomach, grew and rose to the back of her throat. The belch...was monumental. It was a deep growl, rising and amplifying into an eruption. Naturally, Soarin woke up. Jumping slightly, his eyes shot wide open as his arms flailed about, trying to regain his balance on the seat. Rainbow, of course, found this hilarious and rolled back her head in laughter. "Great diaphragm control, right?" She bellowed in laughter. "Rainbow! Wha-?" Soarin yelled in confusion. What the hay was going on? "Good evening to you too Snore-in." Rainbow teased, laughing even more at her joke. "Snore? I wasn't...aw, crud." Soarin said in fear and frustration. "I wasn't drooling was I?" Rainbow giggled even more. "A little bit." Soarin let his head fall once more onto the desk. "Horse apples." "Don't sweat it too much. It was pretty cute." She admitted blushing. "That so?" he smirked. "Maybe I should let you catch me sleeping more often then." "So you finally confess to sleeping on the job, huh?" Rainbow teased further as she nuzzled the crook of his neck. "Only if you want me to." Soarin turned his head to look into Rainbow's eyes, giving her a light kiss on the cheek. "Anything for you." They both blushed and sighed in content, snuggling up against each other, savouring their little moment. There was a cough from beside them and both of their eyes shot open, their expressions falling. They turned their heads to the origin of the sound, dreading who might be there. Sappiness was cute 'n' all... But not when you have a live, unannounced, audience. "You two are adorable, you really are." Featherweight said, embarrassed to have caught them during a tender moment. "But Rainbow Dash is needed down on the drill ground now sir. If that's okay...I mean..." They both starred: flabbergasted. "Featherweight!" Rainbow gasped, "How-?" "Oh, yeah...that." Featherweight blushed, bashfully. "Stealth is one of the things I picked up being the ninja photographer of the foal free press. Not that I was trying to catch ninjas, no...I mean, my skills are somewhat ninja. If only I had my camera now, you two just-" "We get it." Soarin said. "Thank you. Uh…Rainbow?" "Right, right." Rainbow jumped back off Soarin, blushing deeply, "Drill ground. Now. Got it. Bye." She rushed out of the room with her face hidden under her mane, trying to hide her burning red cheeks. Soarin watched her go sadly, before slumping back in her chair. "Erm...Sir?" Featherweight managed. Soarin rubbed his temples numbingly. "What?" He growled, pouting. "One of the cadets wanted to see you, sir." 'For the love of...Somepony better be dying...' "Thank you, Featherweight." Soarin sighed in despair, "Send them in on your way out." Featherweight nodded apologetically, backing out and into the hallway. "Please don't be moody. Please don't be moody. Please don't be moody..." Right on que, Rumble barged in. "Wing Pony?" Rumble yelled "Seriously!" Soarin let out a heavy groan, the kind you make on your deathbed. Unfortunately, this seemed very fitting. Soarin let his head slam onto the desk. Once again, he sighed. "No rest for the weary." He muttered.