//------------------------------// // Chapter 3: Give It All You've Got // Story: Boundaries // by Carapace //------------------------------// Never before had Rainbow noticed just how white the cloud base that housed the Wonderbolts Skybase was. Even whiter than the immaculate coat and soft downy feathers of Princess Celestia, they had an almost hypnotic, soothing effect, calling out to her with their siren song to just lay down and take a nice, long nap. Her burning lungs, however, brought her back to reality. Rainbow shook her head, her matted mane whipped from side-to-side, sending rivulets of sweat to and fro like Winona after a bath. No taking a nap. She forced herself to remain upright out of sheer defiance and force of will, tightly gripping the water bottle they’d given her. Tilting her head back, she brought it just a few inches above her mouth and squeezed, shooting a stream of precious water to wet her parched throat. Every muscle and joint in her wings ached. Though, oddly enough, not in a way that begged for her to stop before she pulled a muscle. Rather, it was the same ache that came with training and pushing her limits. “Nice execution, Cadet,” Soarin called. “You turned a bit shallow on the lead up to that final dive, and you had to fix up your synchronization with Rapidfire and Firestorm a couple times, but it was a good effort. I’ll give it an eight out of ten.” “I’ll give it a nine,” Fleetfoot said. “Onus on the lack of synchronization is on Rapid on that one, it’s his job to call out and get them set up, he went too early when he banked off, so Fire and Dash both had to adjust on the fly, so to speak.” Soarin frowned, but nodded in reply. “True enough, this isn’t an officer’s test, so I can’t rate her on that. I’ll adjust to an eight and a half to compensate for Rapid’s error. Misty? Any thoughts?”   Drumming her sea green hooves against the table, Misty Fly hummed to herself a bit before answering, “I’ll go with Fleetfoot and give it a nine out of ten.” She glanced down at her paper, then back to Rainbow, smiling brightly. “So far so good, Cadet. Score of twenty-six on the team routine, twenty-eight on the single, and six seconds from a dead start on the hundred yard dash. Rainbow placed the water bottle down on the cloud base and wiped her mouth with the back of her hoof. Three out of four tests down, and she was killing it. Just like she knew she would. Stealing a glance to her left, she looked to Spitfire, trying to read the schooled expression and hidden eyes. Still lounging on her cloud, yellow-coated ears stood up straight, craning to hear every word the trio of officers said. Spitfire met her gaze, purple shades met with magenta eyes. For a moment, they just stared at one another in silence; hero and fan, mentor and pupil, and, more importantly, friends. Spitfire’s expression was neutral, her mouth set in a thin line as she surveyed Rainbow. Then, to Rainbow’s surprise, Spitfire nodded once and gave a small smile of her own. But as quickly as it came, it was gone, wiped off her face in favor of her neutral stare again. Her wings twitched. Rainbow ducked her head to hide her efforts to hide the grin that threatened to split her face in two. A smile from Spitfire was good on any other day of the week. A smile at tryouts meant they might as well give her the uniform. Rainbow was on her “A-game”, and they knew it. More importantly, Spitfire recognized it enough to break her stony, big bad captain stare in the middle of her break. There was just one last bit to climb before she could reach the top of the mountain. “Only thing left is the obstacle course,” Soarin said. “Like I mentioned earlier, you’re only gonna get one run with this test. Ready, Cadet?” Rainbow stood up straight and snapped a salute. “Yes, sir! Ready and able!” The trio of officers smirked, nodding in reply. “Good mare,” he said. “Step on up to the line, then wait for my signal.” They stood, trotting over to the line with her, each holding a stopwatch tucked in their feathers. Confused, she tilted her head. She opened her mouth as though to ask, but caught herself. Probably trying to eliminate the margin for error, Twilight’s voice echoed through her mind. That way, you won’t miss the mark because of one pony’s error in hitting the button. “That’s actually a good idea,” she muttered to herself. “At least I’ll know they made sure to give me a fair shake if I don’t—” she stopped short, shaking her head. “No. I’m gonna make it. Not a doubt about it.” She bounced on her hooves, stretching out her neck muscles and taking a few deep breaths. I’m gonna make my time, make the Bolts, and then I’m gonna get a trifecta of parties—from the team, my friends, and Cap. Grinning, she cast a look over her shoulder at Spitfire Hope she’s ready to empty the bank on dinner. Rainbow stopped with her forehooves touching the checkered line. Closing her eyes, she drew in a deep breath through her nose, and held it a moment while she reflected on the course itself and the challenge it presented. Sticking to her strategy was key. Don’t try to go blazing through, but don’t overthink the course itself. I’ve got this. I own this track, and this sky. Soarin barked out his order, “On my signal! Cadet, take your position!” She crouched low and unfurled her wings, smirking as she waited, not for his permission to take the final test. No. He was simply about to give her permission to show how she could dominate the sky, like a real Wonderbolt. Just like Spitfire each time she took wing. “On your mark!” This is it. Time to do or die. She released her breath through her mouth, deepening her crouch, ready to spring forward. “Get set.” Rainbow opened her eyes. I own this track. “Go!” The very instant the word left his mouth, Rainbow shot forward like a cyan bolt, a short sprint to get her speed up before she leapt off the base and dove forward, folding her wings and letting gravity do the rest of the work for her as she counted down, waiting for the perfect moment. With practiced ease, she unfurled her wings and pulled up, flying straight and true through the first cloud ring. Rainbow pitched up and right, arching her back to make a sharp bank as she spiraled up and through the second ring. Hard left, now! She rolled left, sweeping out wide so she could watch out of the corner of her eye for the right moment to hit her spot. Rainbow let her momentum carry her through the ring, smirking to herself as she punched straight through Cloud Angel’s stupid face. Eat it, you stupid rabbit! Rainbow angled her body for the upward spiral turn, the high clouds above her spun in her vision almost hypnotically, begging her to try to reach them. Her goal was far more important though. There was a spot on the Wonderbolts with her name written all over it in their gleaming gold script. Right across the locker room from Spitfire’s spot. Or perhaps next to hers, if she could swing it. The banter would be fun, at least. Focus, girl, Applejack’s voice chided her. This next part’s meaner ’n a copperhead snake! “I got it,” Rainbow replied in a mumble. “Already at top speed for it.” All that was left was to let herself fall again. Rainbow arched her back, letting herself slip over the bottom of the ring like a pole-vaulter to aid in her downward trail, angling left to shoot through the narrow gap of the next ring’s sides. Unorthodox, perhaps, and certainly difficult to pull off for anypony else, but she wasn’t just “anypony else”. Not to mention, it made her efforts easier for the next ring. All she had to do was make a slight adjustment, a little pitch to her right and a shift in her weight, and Rainbow had herself lined up to zip through with barely an effort. Her heart pounded as she drew closer to the ring. She snuck a glance ahead, an almost manic grin split her face. She was having fun. Damn the test, she could do this course all day. Speed, quick turns, wide sweeping arcs, daring loops, all culminating in a dive for the home stretch. It was the course every race pony dreamed of. Rainbow took a deep breath and closed her eyes as she leaned left, entering into that make-or-break turn; too early and she would go peeling off past the ring, too late and she’d have to fight against her own momentum to adjust her course. The timing had to be perfect, there was no room for mistakes! Just the way she liked it. She opened her eyes, staring straight at the ring as she counted backward in her head, waiting for her moment. Not yet. Just a bit more. The instant she saw a hint of blue between fluffy white edges, she angled toward the ring and leveled off. Her turn carried her far enough to the right side of the ring so she wouldn’t hit the leftmost edge, but the gap was narrow. A bit too shallow for her liking. Dang, still not perfect. Frowning, she furled her wings and did a quick barrel roll. A feather brushed against the fluff. Her breath hitched in her throat, Rainbow’s eyes went wide. Stay on it! Her friends’ voices cried in unison. Right turn, now! Her body moved purely on muscle memory, leaning to the right just in time to shoot through the next ring. What next? It was a, um—Oh! Rainbow arched her back and angled her body to the left. Up left corkscrew climb! It was just a lapse, nothing major. She was still on course, and had been making great time up to that point. She just had to fight against the rushing wind, the friction trying to claw at her coat as gravity tried to pull every bit of her down to ground level. Her own body weight worked against her, holding her back as a wall of wind tried to slap her out of the sky. Snorting, Rainbow gave a single flap of her wings. For a moment, she gave gravity the proverbial buck in the face and slipped through a crack in the wall of wind. Then, as it seemed to rally and join gravity in pulling against her, she pumped her wings as fast and hard as she could. Get your speed back for this last leg! She narrowed her eyes, her brows furrowed in determination. Her gaze flitted from one ring to the next, noting the position. Directly above, as she’d practiced, though perhaps a little bit higher. A big loop straight into a falcon dive to the finish. Rainbow took a deep breath in through her nose. Gliding through the penultimate ring with wings outstretched, she slowly tilted her head back and let the wind catch beneath her wings. She let the current lift her into the loop, watching the ring closely to make sure she was on course. Right on target! I’m gonna get this! Her world turned upside down, her rainbow mane fell and flapped against the rushing wind. The grin returned, splitting her face in two. One last leg and she was home free. Send in the designers to fit her for a uniform, have an engraver work on her nameplate in the locker room, and call up her friends. Rainbow “Danger” Dash was already a Wonderbolt in her own eyes. Getting a little ahead of yourself, kid. Spitfire’s voice scolded her, sounding a bit more amused than stern. Laughing, as she passed through the final ring, Rainbow chanced a look toward the mare in question, her eyes easily catching the speck of yellow and fiery orange, and navy uniform against a backdrop of deep blue sky and fluffy white clouds, tiny as they were. Something seemed a bit off, though. Spitfire wasn’t lounging as she had been when Rainbow started her course. She was sitting up, attentive, as though she were judging the performance. Their eyes met. Time seemed to slow to a crawl as piercing orange and deep cerise bored into one another. Somewhere in the back of her mind, Rainbow put two and two together, and realized that Spitfire had removed her shades. There was no “playing it cool”, Spitfire made no effort hide her grin behind her typical cocky smirk or guarded smile. Above the rushing wind shooting past her ears, Rainbow could almost hear Spitfire’s voice calling to her, as if flying alongside her rather than the little echo in her head. Coarse and gravelly, but with an underlying warmth, she seemed to whisper, “Bring it on home, Rainbow Dash.” Her jaw set. Rainbow arched her back to come out of her loop, and dove, folding her wings tight against her side. Wind whistled by her ears as she shot toward the finish line, pulling against her mane and tail as if it were trying to tug her back. Oh, no you don’t! Pinning her ears back, Rainbow brought her hooves together, like a diver springing off a board into the water below. The corners of her lips tugged into a smirk. I’ve got this! She leaned into her dive, streamlining her body as best she could, even going as far as snapping her tail so her entire body formed a straight line. An arrow, bound straight for the finish line. Closer and closer she came, until she could see the polished medals gleaming on the officers’ uniforms, and the glare of sunlight against their stopwatches. A spark of inspiration hit her in mid dive. Rainbow held back a snicker as she unfurled her wings to catch the air and quickly pull up, changing her course from a steep dive to the cloud base and realigning herself to go shooting past the finish line at top speed, buzzing her favorite officers. Again, her gaze flitted to Spitfire. Those brilliant orange eyes were wide and alight with amusement, she shook her head and slipped her shades onto the bridge of her nose, chuckling to herself. Why not have a little fun at the end? Rainbow shifted her eyes to the finish line, just in time for her to go speeding across like a bat out of Tartarus. Soarin, Fleetfoot, and Misty Fly each raised hooves to cover their faces, wincing at the wind whipping across their faces. “Time!” Soarin called. He hit the stop button, then fixed Rainbow with a stern glare. “You’re lucky I can’t dock points for buzzing officers,” he said, a playful edge to his tone. His threat did nothing to stop the wide, toothy grin spreading across her face. “Did I get it?” she asked, doing her very best not to bounce on her hooves. “I got it, right?” Rolling his eyes, Soarin nodded toward the table. “Trot on over to the table, Cadet. We’re doing this officially, after all.” A not so subtle reminder of where she was, and a way around simply telling her to curb her enthusiasm. Rainbow gave a sheepish chuckle. “Yes, sir. Sorry, sir.” As Rainbow moved to stand in front of the table, the trio of officers each took their places beside their chairs. After a moment’s pause, Soarin glanced at his watch. “I’ve got you down for one minute, twenty nine point four seconds, Cadet. Nice flying out there.” Her heart soared. Rainbow let her wings flare to their fullest extension, her tail swished merrily. Oh my gosh, oh my gosh, oh my— Hang on. Her grin faltered. Rainbow turned slowly to face Fleetfoot and Misty. They all have watches. “One minute, twenty nine point nine on mine,” Fleetfoot said. She looked up from her watch and smiled. “Good flying, like First Lieutenant Soarin said. But that little brush against the cloud nearly cost you. That little stunt of yours at the end probably saved you.” Her smile turned wicked. “But buzzing us is still gonna cost ya later on, Cadet. I have a long memory.” Rainbow cringed. Crud. That’s way too close. Nodding to Fleetfoot, she let her eyes fall on the last one to pass judgement. Her hooves trembled against the surface of the clouds as Misty Fly checked her watch, then raised her gaze. “One minute, thirty point five,” she read. Her heart sank into the pit of her stomach. “I didn’t make it?” she asked, a tremble tinging her voice. “Like First Lieutenant Fleetfoot said, that brush against the ring cost you. I hit it as soon as you crossed the line. Sorry, Cadet, but you didn’t make the cutoff for—” “Hang on a minute,” Soarin cut her off. “You can’t call it like that when two of us clocked her at twenty-nine and change, Second Lieutenant. You know dang well we take the average of all three times!” Misty took a couple steps back, ducking her head. “I’m just saying! I had her a little high! It’s gonna push the average up!” “Give us a minute to do the dang math, and we’ll see!” Fleetfoot snapped, stomping a hoof into the clouds. “Unless you just did all that figuring in your head, don’t call it. And even still, it’s not your call to make Second Lieutenant.” Nostrils flaring, Misty stood up to full height. “Don’t talk to me like I’m—” “Wonderbolts!” Spitfire’s voice rang out. With a finch and a tiny yelp of surprise, Rainbow turned to find Spitfire standing just a few paces to her left. Her shades were in place, set beneath furrowed eyebrows, a stern frown marred her muzzle. “Shut up,” she said, a hard edge tinging her voice, “and stand at attention.” The trio fell silent, each snapping to attention and turning to face their commanding officer. “Yes, ma’am!” they replied in unison. Nodding, she turned to Soarin and strode forward to stand muzzle-to-muzzle with him. “Lieutenant Soarin, as I have removed myself from the judging process due to personal reasons, you’re supposed to be the senior officer on this panel. In the future, I expect you to exercise more control over your subordinates.” “Yes, ma’am,” he said, nodding stiffly. “Sorry, ma’am.” “I don’t want your apologies, Lieutenant. Just do it.” She turned and moved to stand before Fleetfoot. “Lieutenant Fleetfoot, when a subordinate falls out of line, I expect you to address them with with professionalism, dignity, and the respect they deserve as a member of the Wonderbolts branch of the E.U.P. Do I make myself clear?” Fleetfoot nodded once. “Yes, ma’am. It won’t happen again, ma’am.” “See that it doesn’t.” Spitfire’s steely gaze fell upon Misty Fly, who bit her lip and looked down at her hooves. “Second Lieutenant Misty Fly.” “Yes, ma’am?” she asked, her voice low. “Look at me when I’m speaking to you, Second Lieutenant.” Misty obeyed, her ears splayed back. “Sorry, ma’am.” Spitfire flicked her tail. “You’re the youngest amongst us four, so I can understand a bit of eagerness on your part. That doesn’t excuse you undercutting Lieutenant Soarin by any means. Got it?” “Yes, ma’am,” Misty replied. “Good.” To Rainbow’s surprise, Spitfire turned to her. For a moment, her frown faded into a more neutral expression, she seemed to hesitate. Then, she raised an eyebrow. “I don’t mind enthusiasm,” she said slowly, “but you need to curb it a bit. Badgering an officer isn’t gonna fly, Cadet Dash. We may fly fast and hard, but when you’re getting graded or receiving an eval, you stand at attention, wait for your superior to give it, and speak when given permission.” Rainbow flinched as though struck. “Yes, ma’am. I won’t let it happen again.” Nodding, Spitfire turned and walked down the line, resuming her place at the left side of the table. She did a quick about-face. “Lieutenant Soarin, resume your assessment.” Soarin snapped a quick salute. “Yes, ma’am!” He took a pencil in hoof and jotted down her times, wrinkling his nose as he worked out the average. The scratching of lead against paper seemed to tickle at her ears. Rainbow bit her lip, trying in vain to control the shaking in her knees. It was all or nothing. Everything came down to a simple bit of math after a breakneck run through a winding course. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she wondered if Twilight would be giddy or peeved that a pony’s dreams could hinge on an average. “Well, I’ll be.” Slowly, a smile spread across Soarin’s lips. He looked up and placed the pencil down. “Average of one twenty-nine point nine three, even with Misty’s high number.” “S-Sir?” Rainbow stammered, her ears pricking forward to take in his every word. Rather than answer her, he turned to his fellow officers. “Lieutenant Fleetfoot, Second Lieutenant Misty Fly, the numbers are in. Care to confirm the final assessment?” The mares peeked over his shoulders, their eyes darted over his work, then flitting to the scores written on their own papers. Matching smiles graced their features, Misty stepped back to take her place. “Confirmed, sir.” Fleetfoot looked up and met Rainbow’s gaze, then winked at her. “Confirmed, sir,” she said. She stepped to the side, gesturing to Rainbow. “If you’d be so kind, our Cadet is waiting.” With an amused snort, Soarin nodded. He walked around the table to stand within hoof’s reach of Rainbow, the tiny smile grew into a full grin. “Congratulations, Rainbow Dash,” he said, his voice tinged with pride. “You’re not a Cadet anymore.” A shuddering gasp escaped her lips. Rainbow brought a hoof up to cover her mouth. “I’m not? You mean I—” she broke off. Tears of joy stung her eyes. “I’m really a—” Soarin held out his right hoof. “As senior officer on this panel, it is my honor and privilege to be the first to welcome you to the Wonderbolts, Rainbow Dash.” Her breath came shallow, her heart raced like never before. Almost numb, she extended her hoof to meet his, giving a weak shake. “I’m a Wonderbolt?” she asked airily. She blinked and shook her head, whipping her dampened mane from side to side before meeting his gaze again. His forest green eyes shone with mirth. Soarin gave a single nod. “You’re a Wonderbolt, Second Lieutenant Rainbow Dash, I should say since you went through the Academy and the Reserves. And a member of the top squad, with that time.” He winked. “You made it a little interesting by clipping that cloud ring, but you always had a flair for the dramatics, even at the Qualifiers.” Rainbow bit her lip, desperately trying to hold back a squeal of joy, but the tugging at the corners of her mouth betrayed her. She closed her eyes a moment, letting her wings flare out. “Permission to hug and babble, sir?” she asked, voice straining with raw emotion. Soarin chuckled. “Granted.” As soon as the word left his lips, Rainbow jumped forward and wrapped her hooves tight around his broad shoulders. She stood on her hind legs, lifting him off the ground as she squealed and babbled “I did it! I did it! I did it! I did it!” and jumping about like Pinkie Pie on a sugar rush. Twin barks of laughter and a snort from her left gave her pause. Rainbow cracked open an eye, peering at the remaining Wonderbolts. Each mare smirked back at her, eyes dancing with mirth and mischievous intent. Somehow, she could see Spitfire’s eyes through those deep purple shades. Alight with mirth, her stare a telltale sign that Rainbow’s little routine wouldn’t be forgotten anytime soon. With a sheepish grin, Rainbow released her grip on Soarin and stepped back a few paces. “Sorry, sir.” She coughed and looked to the side, but made sure not to meet Spitfire’s gaze. “Just a little excited.” To his credit, Soarin took it in stride. “Not a problem, it happens all the time.” He gave a quick motion with his hoof, inviting Fleetfoot and Misty to trot forward to stand at his side. Out of the corner of her eye, Rainbow noticed Fleetfoot snatch a clipboard and pen off the table before she made her way over, a rather official looking form held in its metal clasp. Soarin’s voice called her back to focus. “Normally, this would be Captain Spitfire’s thing, but—” his gaze flitted to the mare in question, then to Rainbow again “—she’s given me the run of the show. As far as we’re concerned, the spot’s yours, Rainbow. There’s a bit of paperwork we’ll need you to sign to you get sworn in properly, then you’re all set. After that, there’s a big shindig with all the press and fans to announce you as our newest member. That’ll be sometime in the next couple weeks, so we’ll be in contact with you immediately after we firm up the date so you can invite friends and family. Any questions?” “Uh, a couple, yeah. Er, I mean, yes, sir.” Rainbow ducked her head and gave a little flick of her tail. “How many ponies can I invite?” “We’re pretty flexible on numbers, but don’t go inviting that entire town of yours,” Soarin teased. “So, choose carefully?” He nodded. “Yes, but your friends probably qualify as VIPs by now. Princess Twilight is a definite, there, and she could use a little pull to make sure the rest get invited as part of her ‘entourage’.” Chuckling at his own joke, he shook his head. “We try to tell ponies to keep it to a dozen, but it also depends on how many we’re bringing in. I’ll have more on that for you in the next week. Sound good?” Bouncing on her hooves, Rainbow nodded. “Definitely! More than good! Great! One hundred percent, totally awesome!” Fleetfoot laughed, then held out the clipboard. “Well, before you fly off and celebrate, I’m gonna need you to sign this so we can make it official. Look it over first, of course. It’s a pretty standard deal for a Second Lieutenant, but—” she gave a little waggle of her eyebrows “—making the top squad has some perks. Namely, salary and benefits.” Rainbow took the clipboard in hoof and began skimming through the terms. A three year deal—pretty standard for a rookie—with a fifty thousand bit per year salary and full EUP benefits, including on base housing for when the squad was in season or training; definitely not bad. Quite a bit of a pay raise from where she sat with a weather pony job. She bit her lip, looking out of the corner of her eye at Spitfire in search of approval. Catching her look, Spitfire shrugged and smiled. “It’s your life,” she mouthed. “Your call, Dash.” Hesitation gripped her. “I can still visit my friends, right?” she asked. “Like, when we’re not out on tour, I can go back and see them, right?” Spitfire nodded. “Unless we’re on tour or you get grounded for discipline, you can visit. You just have to let us know, and be back for training since you’ll be full time.” “You can also have tickets set aside for them,” Soarin added. “Same limits apply on seating, though.” There it was, her only reservation gone. Rainbow took hold of the pen and brought it to hover over the signature line. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. “I’m in,” she whispered, jotting down her name and the date. With a bright grin, she returned the clipboard to Fleetfoot, then glanced at Soarin. “So, about that uniform fitting.” “One thing at a time, Second Lieutenant,” he teased, adding a little extra emphasis on her new rank. “That’s all part of the scheduling. Just do me a favor and keep next week open, and try not to have too many wild parties. It’d be a shame if we had to come bail you out of prison ‘cause you and those crazy friends cut a little too loose!” Laughing at his own joke, Soarin turned to Spitfire and gave a salute. “Ma’am, with your permission?” Spitfire removed her shades, then tossed her head toward the offices. “Get those papers filed, then head off. You’ve finished your duties for the day. Dismissed.” “Yes, ma’am!” The trio replied in unison before leaping into the air and zipping toward the barracks like a bunch of foals after the final toll of the school bell. “Subordinates,” Spitfire muttered, giving a roll of her eyes. “I swear, I’m in charge of herding cats sometimes, not running the Wonderbolts.” Rainbow laughed. “Sounds like some of the weather ponies I work with. Thunderlane, I swear.” “Ah, yes.” Orange eyes lit up in recognition. “Cadet Thunderlane. Oh, how many times we had to pull him out of a cloud—Soarin submitted a request for a commission system. Cheeky little punk.” They shared a laugh at his expense, then fell to a rather awkward silence. Rainbow shifted from hoof to hoof, her wings rustling. “So…” Spitfire offered a smile. “You did it, Dash. Three seconds shaved off your time, even if you cut it close.” She stepped forward and extended a hoof. “Welcome to the Wonderbolts, kid,” she said, fondness tinging her voice. “Been waiting a while to say that.” Her words sparked something in Rainbow’s mind. With a laugh and a swish of her tail, she leapt forward to sweep her Captain—officially her Captain!— into a hug. “Whoa, there!” Spitfire reared back and placed her hooves on Rainbow’s chest, laughing as she fended off the smaller pony. “You’re not hugging me until you hit the dang showers, girl! You smell like a wet dog!” Snorting, Rainbow allowed herself to be pushed back, and dropped her hooves to the cloud base. “Oh, come on! I’ve seen you guys hug after a show!” “Yeah, but I’m not in my Class A when we’re flying.” She waved her hoof toward the locker rooms. “Go clean up and think about where you wanna eat.” Rainbow grinned. “Hope you saved up! I’m feeling like there’s a trip to Little Roam in our future!” With a playful roll of her eyes, Spitfire turned away and unfurled her wings. “Only the best for you, Dash. Now, hurry up. I’m hungry, and we’ve gotta have a little chat before we go.” “Oh?” Her ears pricked forward. “What about?” “You’ll see. Go shower. I’m gonna get out of this uniform and grab my bit pouch. See you in a few!” Spitfire took off with a mighty flap of her wings, shooting off toward the Wonderbolts’ office building before Rainbow could press further. Tilting her head, Rainbow stared after Spitfire’s receding form. She wrinkled her snout, then shrugged. “Can’t be anything bad,” she mused. “I’ve only been a Wonderbolt for five minutes!” The thought alone brought forth a bubbling giggle and a merry swish of her tail. I’m really a Wonderbolt! She couldn’t help it anymore. Rainbow leapt into the air, flapping her wings so she could turn into a mid-air somersault. Awesome points, cool image, none of it mattered; she was a bonafide Wonderbolt, and no pony was going to ruin her mood! Rainbow landed, bouncing lightly on her hooves as she touched down. With a spring in her step, she made her way toward the locker room, humming the Wonderbolts Anthem to herself.                                                                                                     As she dried her mane, Rainbow trotted out of the shower. The warm water worked wonders to chase away the tired, aching feeling in her muscles and wash away all the sweat. Grinning, she shook out her mane and spared a cursory glance at her reflection in the mirror to check her style; colorful, windswept, and one hundred and ten percent pure awesome. Who needs all those fancy brushes and hair conditioners Rarity goes on about? Not me! A small part of her still couldn’t believe it. All those years spent training, all those times Hoops, Shoot, and Score teased her back at Flight School when she’d told everypony her big dream, everything flashed through her mind. Tornado Day, the Best Young Flyers Show, the Academy, the Equestria Games Qualifiers, taking Wind Rider’s spot, all leading up to a hard-hitting, take no prisoners training regimen with Spitfire herself. “I’ve never seen a prospect garner this much attention from her.”  Soarin’s words still echoed in her memory. Rainbow’s smile faltered. She wracked her brain, trying to think of any stories about prospects Spitfire had seen fit to take under her wing and train to get ready to make the squad. None came to mind. Aside from the Academy, Spitfire didn’t hold anypony’s hoof—not that she’d done so with Rainbow, of course. But when it came to tryouts, she simply sent out invites, told prospects the test categories, and sat as senior officer on the panel. She mentioned excusing herself because she trained me, Rainbow thought, bringing a hoof to her chin. But that still doesn’t answer why she did that instead of judging me like normal. Rainbow stopped and shook her head. “Knock it off, Dash,” she scolded. With a flick of her hoof, she tossed her towel into her locker and closed the door. “If Spitfire felt like giving me a hoof, she had her reason for it.” “Funny you should mention that.” “Celestia’s crown!” she yelped, turning sharply to find Spitfire smirking back at her. “What is it with you and popping up behind me?” Spitfire laughed and buffed a hoof on a navy Wonderbolts hoodie she’d swapped in for her uniform. “I can be pretty sneaky when I want, helps with keeping Cadets in line if you can get ‘em looking over their shoulder for the big bad Captain.” She reached up and pulled a second hoodie off of her back, then tossed it to Rainbow. “Put that on, it’s supposed to get cold tonight.” Rainbow caught it, grinning at the Wonderbolts logo stitched on the front. “Hey, thanks!” As she went to put it on, she caught sight of a name written in gold lettering. “One of yours?” “We get spares of our merchandise so we don’t go walking around looking scruffy. You’ll get a few of your own soon enough.” She narrowed her eyes and gave a playful smirk. “So I’ll expect that back, of course.” “You kidding? This is staying with me, Cap!” Rainbow made a show of throwing it on and snuggling into its warmth. “I’ll be the envy of each and every one of your fans with this bad boy!” “Heh, if you think you can outfly some of the rabid legions, you’re welcome to it. Jokes aside for a bit, we’ve still gotta have our talk.” Spitfire sat down on the bench, patting the space next to her. “Pop a squat.” Curious, she raised a brow and tilted her head, but obeyed. She threw a leg over the bench and sat down, straddling so she could face Spitfire. “Sure. What’s on your mind?” Spitfire’s smile grew strained, almost a bit sheepish. She brought her hoof up to rub the back of her fiery mane, flicking her tail. “Well, there’s a few things, really. Concerning the terms of our little bet and the tryout itself.” Rainbow blinked. “What do you mean? I made it, didn’t I? And I shaved off those three seconds like I said I would.” “Oh, yeah! You’re in, Dash, no doubt about that. It’s just, well—” her eyes flitted to the side, staring at Rainbow’s locker. “Think back a minute to what Soarin said at the start of your tryout, and then after they looked over your scores. Specifically, the obstacle course time. What’d he tell you?” Bringing a hoof to her chin again, she tried to recall the full introduction. “I remember him telling me that I’d only get one shot at it, and he mentioned the same times you gave me a few weeks ago: one minute and thirty seconds or lower if I wanted to make the team, and one minute and forty-five or better if I wanted to be an alternate.” “Yeah, that. You, um, may have noticed that I cut him off partway through.” Her eyes met Rainbow’s again. “This is going to sound bad at first, but I need you to hear me out, okay? I had my reasons for it.” “Reasons for—c’mon, Cap, you make it sound like you guys pulled a fast one on me!” She couldn’t help but throw back her head and laugh, wrapping her hooves around her barrel. “I know you guys like jokes, but that one’s pretty weak if you—” “It’s not a joke.” Her laughter stopped. “What?” Rainbow perked her ears up. Spitfire ran a hoof through her mane and sighed. “I lied about the times, and I got Soarin to do the same. You definitely hit the time requirement for top squad, but I deliberately had him give you that or alternate as your only options.” She held up a hoof to stop Rainbow from jumping in. “Hang on, I didn’t do it to be mean. If you missed the one-thirty mark, you’d still be a Wonderbolt. You’d just be on our second tier squad—not even gonna tell you about third tier, putting you there would’ve been a crime. Let alone actually listing you as an alternate.” Rainbow felt the blood run cold in her veins, her ears splayed back and laid flat against her head. “What do—Why would you even do that? I thought this thing was make or break! I busted my flank for three weeks—” “Just like I knew you would,” Spitfire said. She hung her head. “I know it was underhoofed, but I didn’t do it to be mean or make you feel like we could just toss your dreams in a trashcan.” Slowly, she lifted her head to meet Rainbow’s gaze. Those brilliant orange eyes seemed alight with passion and a hint of admiration. “I’ve watched you since Tornado Day, Dash. You do better when your back is against the wall and you think it’s all or nothing. I noticed a bit of it when I heard how you saved three other ponies and myself at that competition, and I caught glimpses of it at the Academy and Qualifiers. When it’s time to step on the big stage, you go big.” “I ‘went big’ because this has been my dream since I was a filly! I ‘went big’ because I thought there was a narrow window to make it!” Rainbow leaned forward, glaring at Spitfire. “I came here thinking about how I was ready to fly until my dang wings fell off if it meant making this team!” “Yes you did.” Spitfire nodded and poked her in the chest with a hoof. “That’s what I needed out of you today so you’d make top squad; everything you had and more. If you didn’t make it this time, we already had a spot in second squad waiting for you.” She sighed and gave a tired smile. “You’re not second squad material, Dash. You’ve never been second squad material, even back at the Academy.” Rainbow’s nostrils flared. “You put me as a wing pony!” she cried. “You put me with Lightning Dust until I brought everything she did in front of you then tried to quit because I thought you endorsed that load of horseapples!” She nodded again. “Yes I did. That one didn’t turn out to be one of my brighter moves, but I did it because I had to humble you a little. You came in flying like a Bolt, walking around campus like you were already one of us. Confidence isn’t bad, but I can’t have you hot dogging it in the middle of a show. Everything about the Academy is designed to put prospects under pressure like they’ve never seen. You came out of it with better character than I’d ever imagined.” “W-Well, I, uh,” Rainbow stammered, her indignation dying with each admission. “I always grew up idolizing you guys. You guys are supposed to be the best flyers with all the best character and stuff!” “Rainbow Falls incident notwithstanding, yes,” Spitfire said, sighing heavily. “The point is, I wanted you to just train hard and go, Dash. It was a little push to get you where I thought you belonged, and you did it.” Rainbow bit her lip, her gaze went to the floor. Was it the threat of being relegated to alternate that made her train hard enough to shave three seconds off? Every second of the past three weeks had been dedicated to beating that time so she could make top squad. Even their bet had been added incentive to make it so she could rub elbows with all the big shots without worry, and hang out with Spitfire like they were just a couple mares having a night out on the town. Her head snapped up. I asked her out to dinner. “You said there were rules about separation of officers and recruits.” “Officers and recruits, officers and members of lower tier squads, yes.” Spitfire nodded. “Then dinner tonight hinged on me making top squad,” Rainbow continued, “I couldn’t hang with you if I were on second squad.” Spitfire bobbed her head from side to side. “Not entirely, but we’d have to take a lot of care with that. We couldn’t get too friendly unless we had a bunch of other squad mates out with us.” Her lips tugged into a fond smile. “Doesn’t seem like we have to worry too much about that, though.” There was a beat of silence. Rainbow leaned back. “So, was all this training because you wanted me on the top squad or because you didn’t want to deal with a bunch of stuff if we got caught hanging out?” “Yes,” Spitfire replied, without a hint of hesitation. Another beat. “I’m sorry?” Chuckling, Spitfire swing her leg over the bench, straddling it so she could face Rainbow. “Do I want the best young flyer I’ve ever seen wearing Wonderbolts blue? Do I want her flying in formation alongside me on the top squad?” She snorted. “No question. I want the best, and I know you’re one of the best. I can be a very patient mare, but I also love being able to sit at a table with all the EUP head honchos, wave my hoof at our team, and dare them to try stacking up against our lineup. Call it selfishness, but I’m a competitor, just like you. Sometimes, I let that get the best of me, and it costs me.” She sighed and shook her head. “It nearly made you walk away. Twice.” Rainbow worked her mouth, trying to form words. She struggled a moment until she settled on, “And the stuff about hanging out? Why’s that a thing?” Spitfire raised a brow. “A thing?” she parroted, giving a short laugh. Though, it sounded decidedly more sheepish than mocking. “Aw, geez, this is where I cross the line from competitor to selfish. It nearly got me in trouble a few times.” To Rainbow’s surprise, she caught sight of something unheard of: Spitfire’s ears pinning back, an embarrassed smile gracing her muzzle, and a hint of red coloring her cheeks. “I had to be all official when I thanked you for saving my life,” she admitted. “The whole time you were out with us, I wanted to pull you aside and talk to you one-on-one, maybe get to know you a little better. I almost had a chance when Soarin decided he was gonna try to break his own pie-eating record on that bet with Firestreak.” Laughing weakly, she gave a shake of her head. “But then, you told me how you were planning to try out, so I had to swallow it down and give you the usual spiel.” Rainbow started at the feeling of a hoof touching hers, looking down to find a yellow hoof brushing against it. She stared a moment. Her mind raced to try to make sense of things as she slowly lifted her head to meet Spitfire’s eyes. Swallowing a lump in her throat, she asked, “S-So, what was the, um, not usual spiel?” The hoof held hers tight. “I was gonna ask you something.” Spitfire closed her eyes and shook her head. “But you just had to ask first, and I couldn’t help offer you that bet. Really put me behind the eight ball.” She opened her eyes. “That said, there’s something else I wanted, and this time I don’t have a handbook to worry about.” Before Rainbow could speak again, Spitfire leaned forward. Soft, warm lips pressed against hers. She blinked, her breath caught in her throat as her mind began to work out the details. Whoa. Her eyes fluttered shut. Rainbow tilted her head to the side to deepen the kiss, returning Spitfire’s gesture with a tight squeeze of her hoof. They drew apart. Spitfire beamed at her. “I think you can guess my question for yourself,” she whispered. Her cheeks felt as though they’d been set ablaze. She tried to speak, but her mouth felt dry. “I—you—huh?” “Eloquent as always,” Spitfire teased, leaning forward to nuzzle her. “I like you, Dash. I’ve liked you for some time now, and I’d really like to take you out to dinner now that I don’t have a bunch of rules stopping me.” She leaned back, ducking her head until her chin touched her chest. “That’s if you want to, I mean. You can say no, and things’ll be—” Rainbow covered her mouth with a hoof and fixed her with a level stare despite her burning cheeks. “Neither of us can get in trouble for this?” With a quick turn of her head, Spitfire freed herself. “We’d have to keep it under wraps until the big press shindig, but we’re good as long as I don’t give you the run of the place.” “Would you?” “Not a chance in this lifetime.” “Good.” Rainbow stood and turned away to hide her smile. “So, dinner?” Spitfire nodded. “Dinner,” she said, standing with her. “Although,” she mused, a sly grin played upon her lips. “I had a thought. How’s about another bet?” “Another one?” Rainbow raised an eyebrow. “What’s the bet?” “There’s a place in Little Roam called Papa Pizarro’s. It’s an old favorite of mine, nice and quiet, and I’m practically family with the owners.” Spitfire unfurled her wings and gave a challenging flex. “I’ll take off, you count to five, then try to catch me. I win and you have to help me do paperwork for a week.” “Sounds like fun. What do I get if I win?” “Glad you asked.” Spitfire closed the distance again, wrapping a hoof around her neck before pulling her into in another kiss. Rainbow’s joints locked up, her wings flared out as though she were ready to fly. Smiling, she made to return it, only to find herself kissing air. Warm breath tickled her ear. “You get as many of those as you want if you win,” Spitfire whispered. “Count to five, then come catch the captain, Rainbow Dash.” Without another word, she was gone in a rustle of yellow feathers and a creak in the locker room door. One. Her lips curved into a broad grin. Two. Rainbow bounded over to the door and threw it open, watching Spitfire’s form receding into the deep blue sky. The words from that article detailing Spitfire’s rookie season sprang to the forefront of her mind: “When Spitfire hits the starting line, don’t blink. She’ll be done with her first lap by the time you open your eyes again.” Three. She unfurled her wings and crouched low, swishing her tail as she thought of the kisses she’d received. Four. Not to mention, all the ones she’d get soon enough. Five! She kicked off the clouds and rocketed into the sky, a full, toothy grin splitting her muzzle. Making top squad and scoring a date and kisses from Spitfire? A winning day. As for the bet, Rainbow already considered it in the bag. After all, there were no obstacles to hamper her speed. On a straightaway, she’d take her chances against Spitfire anyway. With kisses on the line, she’d employ a dang Sonic Rainboom if she had to. Those kisses are mine.