7. Overdue Returns
Spitfire wrinkled her brow, scowling up at the ceiling.
Fifty.
That couldn't be right. After a week spent in the hospital, she had counted the ceiling tiles in her room more times than she cared to count. Every time she got forty-eight.
Except this time. This time she counted fifty.
Exhaling, she closed her eyes and massaged her temples. How? How could she get fifty? The only way to get an explanation would be to count the tiles again. That prospect made the pressure spike and throb in the slow beginnings of what promised to be a steady headache.
Then again, between Redheart’s check-ins and counting ceiling tiles, there wasn’t much else to do besides staring out the window at the clear blue sky, equal parts inviting and taunting. Come spread your wings, Spitfire, it said. Come feel the wind in your mane and the sun on your coat.
Heaving a sigh, she dropped her hooves back to the mattress and glared at the ceiling. A few seconds later, she began to count.
One, two, three, four, five, si—
Somepony knocked softly on her door. Perking her ears up, she muttered a brief thanks to the universe, and sat up on her elbows. “Who is it?”
“It’s only me, Captain Spitfire,” a mare’s voice said, as gentle as her knocking. It was a voice made to comfort the sick and soothe the frightened. Disease and injury were frightening bedmates, after all, and hospitals needed the likes of Nurse Tenderheart to calm the atmosphere of worry and uneasiness that threatened to weigh down upon foals, stallions, and mares alike.
The door opened, and Spitfire did her best to return Tenderheart’s smile when she poked her head into the room. Her cornflower-blue coat was a near match to the hospital walls, though her pale pink eyes and faded green mane made her stand out. Her eyes may have twinkled when she smiled, but they didn’t bring the same quickness of breath that Redheart’s did.
“How are you feeling this morning?”
Blinking, Spitfire shook her head. There was a time for daydreaming and a time for talk. Chuckling, she scratched her neck, marshaling her thoughts into reality. “Still pretty sore and aching all over, but that’s nothing new.”
Tenderheart’s expression softened as she stepped into the hospital room. The gentle smile on her face made it difficult not to ease Spitfire's smile in return as she pulled her chart from the foot of her bed. “Well, that’s good to hear. At least you’re up and moving around.” Her smile slanted into something the Wonderbolt had yet to see over her muzzle: a smirk. “In a fashion that is. Has Nurse Redheart let you walk to the bathroom on your own yet?”
Warmth licked across Spitfire’s face. Wrinkling her muzzle, she looked to the side and scowled at her empty nightstand. “No.”
While Redheart’s laugh was a light, musical sound, Tenderheart’s dripped from her lips like honey. “Behave yourself and that might change. For now, I’m afraid you’re going to have to live with us coddling you like an overgrown foal.”
An overgrown foal. Escorted walks to the bathroom. Blaze and Rapidfire would never let her live it down. Already she pictured them trying to feed her spoonfuls of food at a time, making those ridiculous train noises their mother made when they were infants. “You don’t have to do what she says, you know.”
“Oh, but I’m afraid I do!” The smirk was gone, leaving Tenderheart’s usual cheery smile in its place. “You see, we all know better than to cross Nurse Redheart when she gets her mind set on something. She wants you coddled, so you’re going to be coddled. Just be glad she’s letting you get up to use the bathroom.” It was more a show of respect to hide giggling laughter at this point, but she did anyways. “There are adult-sized diapers in the supply closets.”
Spitfire shuddered. “Noted.”
“Now, fun and games aside,” Tenderheart said, sliding Spitfire’s chart back in place. “You do have a visitor who’s been waiting all morning to see you. I hope you don't mind if I let her in. She's been very patient and very considerate.”
“A visitor?” Spitfire’s ears perked up. A small frown tugged at her lips as she looked to her not-Redheart nurse. “I didn’t know I was seeing visitors outside of my team.”
Tenderheart’s smile relaxed into something more playful as she waggled her ears. “You aren’t, but royalty tend to fall in a rather exceptional category, wouldn’t you say?”
Spitfire sputtered, her good wing suddenly straining to flare out. “R-royalty? One of the princesses? Here?”
Tenderheart nodded her head once, her eyes twinkling with mirth. “Uh huh. She was here at the crack of dawn, but Redheart insisted you get your sleep first. She’s been in the waiting room ever since. Here, I’ll show her in!” Giggling, she pranced her way to the door and opened it, curtsying as she stepped to the side. “She’s all yours, Princess.”
“Nurse Tenderheart,” Princess Twilight Sparkle said as she walked into the room, the bemused smile on her face matching the playfully admonishing tone, “you really don’t have to address me by title. I’ve known you for how long, now?”
“Hard to say, Your Majesty. How long after you moved to town did Rainbow Dash or Applejack end up in here?”
Ruffling her feathers, Twilight hid a giggle behind her hoof. Her unadorned hoof, Spitfire noted. With the exception of the saddlebags strapped around her barrel, the newest Princess of Equestria wore nothing. No crown, no regalia, no anything. Without her wings, she could have been mistaken for a taller-than-average unicorn instead of Equestrian royalty. “About a month or so when Applejack got the flu.”
“Hard to believe one little needle made such a big, strong mare cower behind her little sister.” Smiling warmly, Tenderheart bowed her head to Twilight and Spitfire in turn. “But now I’ll leave the two of you alone. If you need anything, I’ll just be down the hall checking in on Cherry Berry. I swear, somepony will need to take that mare’s hot air balloon away from her one of these days.”
Twilight giggled again and rolled her eyes. “Good luck convincing her of that.”
With a theatrical sigh, Tenderheart bowed her head again. “We can only hope. Try not to over excite the good Captain, Princess.” The nurse winked. “I think your little surprise visit has already dropped the poor thing’s heart into her stomach. Be a dear and move a bedpan or bucket in hoof’s reach if she starts looking any greener, would you?”
Spitfire swallowed, finding her throat dry. Swinging with Equestrian bigwigs, including royalty, came with the job. She’s had drinks with Prince-Captain Shining Armor, danced with Princess Cadance, eaten cake with Princess Celestia, and played cards with Princess Luna. Each one of those times, however, she was on top of her game. She could saunter into the room, feathers freshly preened and coat velvety smooth so that it gleamed in the light, and present herself as a Wonderbolt Captain ought to in front of her superiors.
Now, she lay battered and broken in an unflattering hospital gown while the Princess of Friendship looked every bit as resplendent as ever, even without her regalia.
“I told you, Twilight is just fine, Nurse Tenderheart. And thank you,” Twilight said, turning her smile to Spitfire. “I’ll do my best to be careful.”
“I’ll stick to ‘just Twilight’ when you start calling me Tend, Your Majesty.” Sparing one more wink at Spitfire, Tenderheart backed out of the room. “And no matter what the good Captain says, do not let her walk around unsupervised!”
When the door closed, Twilight bowed her head in greeting. “It’s good to see you awake, Captain Spitfire.” Her smile turned pained, but was no less sincere. “You gave everypony a good scare. That wasn’t exactly what I had in mind when Rainbow Dash promised me a big birthday surprise.”
It was hard not to wince. Impossible, even, so Spitfire did. “Right.” Bracing herself, she sat up, holding herself rigid as the headboard behind her. Even when injured, there was no excuse to ignore protocol when it came to royalty. “I’m sorry about what happened, Princess. I hope my accident didn’t ruin your special day.”
“Ruin my day?” Twilight blinked, tilting her head to the side, one ear folded while the other perked straight up. “What are you talking about?”
Grunting, Spitfire dipped her head but held her gaze, ignoring the ache in her body begging her to return to the warm, soft comfort of the mattress and sheets. “Your birthday. I’m guessing the party wasn’t quite as festive after I made a crater in your castle.”
“Oh, that?” Twilight waved her hoof. “There will always be another party. I’m much more concerned about your wellbeing.”
“Oh.” Blinking, Spitfire resisted the urge to shift her weight and twiddle her hooves. Captains did not fidget, especially not in the presence of one of their princesses. “In that case, what can I do for you, Princess? Before you ask, the Wonderbolts would be more than willing to perform again for you once I’m flight-worthy.”
“That’s not necessary, but I’m sure everypony else would love it if you could.” Twilight’s eyes sparkled as she smiled, true to her name. She crossed the room to Spitfire’s bedside and, after a second’s hesitation, sat down on her haunches. “And please, just Twilight is fine. A friend of a friend is my friend, right?”
Spitfire quirked a brow. Even Princess Cadance, known far and wide as being among the most easygoing of Equestrian royalty, was addressed by her title. Then again, who was she to argue with another princess? “If you’re sure, Twilight.”
Twilight’s ears waggled at the use of her name. “I’m sure.”
“Alright, but if we’re doing this, then just call me Spitfire. You keep calling me ‘Captain’ and I’m going to keep on calling you ‘Princess.’”
“Deal, though let’s not tell Nurse Tenderheart,” Twilight said, laughter sprinkled in her tone. “And since we’re doing away with all of that, you can relax, Spitfire. This is meant to be a friendly visit. The last thing I want is an angry troupe of nurses scaling the castle walls because you overexerted yourself sitting at attention.”
A familiar-feeling smirk slid over Spitfire’s face as she relaxed the muscles in her back, letting gravity carry her back to the support of her headboard and pillows. “Thanks, Twilight,” she said, more slumping than leaning back on her pillow. A tired chuckle stumbled past her lips. “Tenderheart and Sweetheart might go after you, but I’d bet my goggles that Redheart would be too busy tanning my hide to be bothered.”
“Then let’s both try to keep that from happening,” Twilight said, sliding into one of the chairs next to the bed. “How are you feeling?”
Spitfire rolled her shoulders in a shrug, careful of her wing. “As good as I can be, I guess. Wing’s broken and I feel like I’ve been hit by a carriage, but I’ll pull through.”
Twilight nodded. Her wings relaxed, drooping down closer to her sides as she exhaled. “I’m glad to hear that. If there’s anything I can do to make your recovery more comfortable, please let me know. Ponyville General isn’t anything like the hospitals in Canterlot or Manehattan, but our ponies here care about their patients more than anypony else.”
“I’ve noticed. Celestia knows it takes a lot to put up with me sometimes, but the nurses and doctors here have managed somehow,” Spitfire said, snickering. She trailed off to a hum as her gaze drifting to her broken wing. “Red in particular.”
“Red?” Glancing to the side, Spitfire found Twilight smiling. It was a small, innocent smile, endearing and warm. Even at such a small question, she could all but see the gears turning behind her eyes. “As in Nurse Redheart? I take it you two have gotten close?”
Ruffling the feathers on her good wing, Spitfire allowed herself a lopsided, if half-hearted, smirk. “I wouldn’t say so, at least not quite yet. She’s been taking really good care of me, though. Yesterday, she took me outside so I could remember what it’s like to feel the wind.” It took her a second to catch herself before her smirk could become something too wobbly. She closed her eyes and the image of Redheart, blushing ever-so-slightly in the sunset, floated before her mind.
Maybe ‘smitten’ was a better word.
“That’s very thoughtful of her.” A note of empathy coloured Twilight’s words and twisted her smile. “It’s never easy for Rainbow Dash to be in here for long. I didn’t quite understand before I got these,” she said, unfurling her wings. “But after a few weeks, I started to get it. She missed flying. You miss it, too, don’t you?”
Spitfire’s lips pursed. “It’s not easy being grounded.” She sighed, eyeing her cast. “Red gets that. Most earth ponies and unicorns don’t.”
“She’s pretty unique, isn’t she? I don’t think I’ve ever met another medical professional quite like her.”
The corner of Spitfire’s mouth twitched. “Sometimes she reminds me of my old drill sergeants from back in the Academy. I’ve never seen anypony whip my ponies into line like that. How can somepony be that tough and that nice at the same time?”
“I suppose you’d have to be,” Twilight said. “I think it’s because she cares about her patients so much. There’s hardly a timberwolf in the Everfree that could come between Nurse Redheart and somepony under her care.”
A low, gravelly chuckle sounded from the back of Spitfire’s throat. “Overgrown bunch of twigs wouldn’t stand a chance.” When she blinked, she could see Redheart’s eyes, two points of a burning, bright blue that pierced through wherever they looked. A tingle travelled down the length of her spine and lingered at the nape of her neck, making her tail swish. “I guess I should also thank you for pulling enough strings to get me assigned to her.”
“All I did was ask for Nurse Redheart and Doctor Horse to look after you. They treat Rainbow Dash all the time, so I know them the most. It’s not like I ordered them to or anything.” Twilight coughed, chewing the corner of her lip while fidgeting where she sat. Somepony had yet to master the craft of outward indifference, something Spitfire was sure the other princesses would teach her in time.
Though, the longer they talked, the more Spitfire came to realize that the weight of authority that came with the crown had yet to settle on Twilight’s shoulders. The mare—the younger mare, she had to remind herself—spoke with an ease and a warmth so alien compared to the cool air of superiority so common to the Canterlot nobility. It was difficult not to like her.
Then again, what else should one expect from the Princess of Friendship?
“Uh-huh,” Spitfire said, feeling the old thrill of mischief in the making bringing a sharp, wry edge to her grin. Sooner or later, the newest princess would also have to get used to the little games her fellow royalty liked to play. “And they totally didn’t say yes because you’re a princess.”
The tips of Twilight’s ears stood on end. “What? I—no! Of course they didn’t!”
“What kind of pony says no to a princess?” Spitfire asked, arching an eyebrow and chuckling. “You sure you didn’t use any of your super princess authority on them?”
Some of the colour fled from Twilight’s face and she shook her head, whipping her mane from side to side. “No! I would never—” She stopped short, staring at Spitfire’s face. It would’ve been impossible to miss the gleam in her eyes or the satisfyingly smug quality to her grin—all signs of a troublemaker at work. The princess’ brows knit for a second before she puffed out a breath of air, blowing her bangs out of the way.
Wiggling her ears, Spitfire smiled an innocent little smile. “Something wrong, Princess?”
“You’re as bad as Rainbow Dash.” Twilight’s voice was as flat as her brows. “No wonder she looks up to you so much.”
Spitfire buffed her hoof on her chest. “Rookie’s got good taste. She’ll be a great ‘Bolt.”
“I’m not sure if I should be excited or terrified.” The skepticism rolled off of Twilight’s words in waves, but underneath it was a tittering of amusement. “I overheard Nurse Tenderheart telling you to behave. Are we going to have to start telling Rainbow to do the same?” She blinked and wrinkled her muzzle. “Well, more than we do already.”
“My team can be a bad influence sometimes.” Spitfire shook her head and shrugged. She fought down another chuckle as she leaned back, letting her gaze wander back to the ceiling. “Soarin should keep an eye on things, but if Blaze and Fleetfoot get their hooves on her, well, I don’t take any responsibility for what they do.”
Before Twilight could respond, a knocking at the door interrupted. Flicking an ear, she traded glances with Spitfire. The latter tilted her head, frowning at the door. “Another visitor?”
“Twilight?” a mare’s voice called. Under the crack of the door, Spitfire saw the tips of hooves a shade of purple so light they were almost pink shuffle from side to side. “We’re all ready out here!”
“We would’ve been here sooner,” another voice, carrying the tone, confidence, and indignation of a young colt, said, “but somepony took forever getting out the door.”
“Maybe that’s because I ended up carrying everything,” the first voice retorted.
“I’m carrying things!”
“A couple of books hardly counts. Making a mare carry everything? Whatever happened to chivalry? What would Rarity say? For shame, Spike.”
As Spitfire raised an eyebrow, Twilight’s face lit up. Clapping her hooves together, she fluffed her feathers and beamed. “Okay, just one minute!”
“Can it be a short minute?” the second voice, Spike, asked. “These are heavy!”
“Oh, quit bellyaching! You’re hardly holding anything as it is.” There was a note of snark in the mare’s voice, one a pony like Spitfire could appreciate. “Unless the little baby needs me to do all the work.”
Spike’s huff carried through the door.
“Uh, Twilight?” Spitfire’s other brow joined its companion high up on her forehead. She looked between the door and the alicorn in question stifling her laughter behind her hoof. “What’s going on?”
“Part of why I came here, actually.” Clearing her throat, Twilight hopped off of her chair. She stepped to the side, giving a clear view of the door while smiling a warm, open smile. “I know it’s not exactly exciting lying here in a hospital bed all day. There’ve been times when I thought Rainbow Dash would start climbing the walls.”
“Can’t really blame her.” As Spitfire scratched her neck, she found her gaze wandering back towards the window. Another sunny day in Ponyville, and another clear blue sky calling to her. For once, she wished that it could be a dreary and soggy day. Maybe then the itch in her wings would subside. “Not much to do in here but think. It gets old running laps in my head after a while.”
A sympathetic smile was Twilight’s response. She shuffled herself closer to Spitfire so that she was standing by her shoulder. “That,” she said, “and counting the ceiling tiles.”
That drew a chuckle from Spitfire’s lips. A wry grin twisted her lips and she nodded. “Yeah, there’s always that.”
“How many?”
“Fifty.”
Almost hesitantly, Twilight’s hoof found her shoulder and gave a gentle squeeze. “Rainbow Dash mentioned that before she left, which is why,” she said, drawing to the side and lighting her horn, “I thought I’d bring these over with me!”
On cue, the door swung open. There on the other side stood a unicorn. Judging from the books held aloft in an aquamarine glow of magic, it was the same mare Spitfire heard speaking just seconds ago. Annoyance flickered behind her eyes, a light purple that matched her coat, before a wary, uncertain smile replaced her scowl. Her ears folded down, perked back up, and slicked back down again behind her curled, royal purple mane. A single stripe, the same colour as her magic, stretched from tail to mane as she shifted her weight from hoof to hoof. “Um,” she said, looking from the pegasus to Twilight. “Hello.”
Beside her—the target of her annoyance, Spitfire was sure—wasn’t a colt, but a young dragon. He stood up to the unicorn’s shoulder, his scales a deep purple, darker than both Twilight and the other mare’s coats. His eyes glittered an emerald green with a boyish energy that thrived in youth. Unlike the unicorn, who held several volumes aloft in the air and seemed to be straining against saddlebags looking fit to burst, he only held a small pile of books in his arms.
While the unicorn ducked her head and the dragon beamed, Spitfire blinked. “Books?”
“Books!” Prancing over to her new visitors, Twilight faced Spitfire with a brilliant smile and wrapped a wing around both the unicorn and the dragon, pulling them close to her sides. “But before I forget, Spitfire, allow me to introduce you to my number one assistant and my number one student! This is Spike,” she said, tousling his fin with her hoof, “and Starlight Glimmer.”
“Twilight! Not in front of Spitfire!” The young drake, Spike, shook off Twilight’s off and leveled her with a fierce pout. Then, as if remembering himself, he looked back to Spitfire with a large, sharp-toothed grin. “Oh, um, heya!”
“Pleasure to meet you, Captain Spitfire.” Wriggling out of Twilight’s grasp, Starlight undid the clasps of her saddlebags. “Where do you want all of these, Twilight?”
“You can relax, Starlight.” With a coy grin and single giggle, Twilight lifted her hoof and booped it to Starlight’s nose. “Spitfire’s a friend. I think the bedside tables should do just fine, though.”
Spitfire blinked again at the boop and as a number of books flew out of the saddlebags and rushed over to her in midair. “Twilight, what’s going on here?”
“She’s giving you a whole whack of books to read, duh.” Spike padded across the room and slid the books he held onto Spitfire’s nightstand. The action made him stand up on the tips of his toes, and she tried not to stare at him. There was something unnervingly familiar about him, something that made her wing twitch. In her mind’s eye, she pictured a much larger creature, the size of a small mountain, with a maw big enough to swallow her whole with the same scales and same green fins on top of his head.
Then Spike looked up and grinned at her. Shaking her head, she reached out and offered her hoof. A smirk, the same one she saved for little colts and fillies, warmed her muzzle. “No kidding. Thanks, little guy, but I was more curious as to why.”
“It’s the least I can do,” Twilight answered, lighting her horn while Spike bumped his fist to Spitfire’s hoof. As she did, roughly half of the auras surrounding the books in the room shifted from aquamarine to a mulberry pink. “After you took the time and effort to come all the way to Ponyville to perform for my birthday, I can at least make sure you’re well taken care of and occupied while you recover.”
Spitfire eyed the books stacking themselves neatly on both of her bedside tables. The red book with the golden trim and filigree stared out at her, reading The Legends of Star Swirl the Bearded. On top of it was a slimmer, green book titled The Aeronaut’s Compass and above that The History of Ancient Roam, Volume I. There were other titles ranging from scientific and magical theory to history texts, fables, foals’ books, science fiction, and everything in between.
Once the last book was placed, Spitfire had to resist the urge to swallow. “You really didn’t have to do all this,” she said, feeling small under the shadow cast by the stack of books to her right. Now, both stacks stood a head taller than she did on either side, sending an unpleasant ruffle through her feathers. “Ponyville was on the way to Fillydelphia. It was no trouble.”
“And this isn’t any trouble, either.” Twilight’s smile, though pleasant, brokered no argument. “If you want something specific, just let me know! We probably have it. I thought we’d start with a wide selection and go from there.”
Chuckling, Spike leaned against the wall. “Yeah, and Twilight really didn’t know what you might like, so she grabbed something from pretty much everything. Romance, action, drama, horror, crime, biographies,” he said, counting each off on a talon. “There’re even a couple cookbooks in there. Twilight couldn’t decide if different styles of cooking counted as different genres.”
“Yes, well, um—” Twilight coughed, pink dots colouring her cheeks. “The important thing is that there’s plenty to choose from. Starlight, why don’t you give Spitfire a list of everything we brought?”
“Sure thing.” From within Starlight’s saddlebags, a small scroll levitated out and onto the bedside table. The unicorn offered a polite smile as she approached, though there was something about it that made Spitfire’s muzzle wrinkle. “It’s nice to meet you, Captain Spitfire.”
“Just Spitfire’s fine.” Her eyes flitted over Starlight, trying not to let her frown show or carry into her voice. “Nice to meet you, too, Starlight. What’s it like being a princess’ student?”
Starlight’s smile turned to a wry grin, one that would have fit right in with the Wonderbolts. “It’s hard to complain, and even harder when my teacher is standing a couple feet away. Not that I have any complaints whatsoever.”
Twilight returned the grin, fluffing her feathers. “Starlight is a very smart student.”
“I try. Though it is really nice to meet you. Rainbow Dash speaks very highly of you and the other Wondershots.”
“Cool,” Spitfire said, tilting her head to the side. Then, as Starlight’s words sunk in, it hit her.
Wondershots?
Usually when ponies looked at her, there was a flash of recognition that lit up their eyes. More often than not, excited whispers or blooming smiles followed. Sometimes there would be a scowl or dark grumbling. Either way, everypony knew Spitfire either by her fiery mane, captain’s uniform, trademarked flight suit, or by sheer reputation alone.
However, when Starlight looked at her, there was nothing. No flash of recognition, no excited whispers, not even the subtle widening of the eyes.
When Starlight looked at her, she just saw another pony—as if she were some regular mare in the street.
“Er, Starlight,” Twilight said, her smile strained. “They’re the Wonderbolts.”
“Oh, my mistake. Wondershots, Wonderbolts.” Starlight giggled, sharing a knowing smile with Twilight as she waved her hoof. “Good thing Rainbow Dash isn’t here. Otherwise she might have had another freak out. Who would’ve thought somepony never hearing of the Wonderbolts before was so novel?”
There was no stopping Spitfire’s jaw as it fell into her lap.
“What?!”
By the time Twilight, Spike, and Starlight had left, the afternoon had waned away into an early evening. With the blinds raised, the light flooded into Spitfire’s room, bathing everything in a golden glow. Long shadows created from the stacks of books on each of the nightstands stretched long across the wall. Everything else, however, seemed to shine, from the soft blue of the hospital room walls to the glinting filigree on the spines of some of the books.
Nothing, however, shone more in that moment than Redheart. A soft, golden glowing aura surrounded her coat, making every movement from her narrow and slender shoulders to her wide and alluring hips shine and shimmer. Like a sunset kissing a snow-capped mountain goodnight, she shone. And though her attention was focused on her clipboard, Spitfire could see the smile tugging at the corner of her lips. In the few instances when she glanced her way, the light caught in her eyes, making their bright blue glitter.
Over the last several days, such a sight would have made Spitfire’s breath catch in her throat. Usually, her mouth would run dry for a few seconds as whatever quip she had ready died on her tongue. Then, she would probably misbehave, open her Celestia-forsaken mouth, and get a snort and roll of Redheart’s eyes in reply.
It wasn’t every day, however, that one met somepony who had never heard of the Wonderbolts.
“Seriously! I mean, I’d get it if somepony never heard of the Fillydelphia Skychasers. They’re good, but they’re bronze-league at best.” The look of vagueness on Starlight’s face flashed before Spitfire, and her tail whipped from side to side underneath her blankets. “But come on! She had no idea who I was! Me! Spitfire, Captain of the Wonderbolts!”
“Now, now, Spitfire. I’m sure you’re overreacting,” Redheart said, voice quaking with laughter. She glanced to the side, meeting Spitfire’s gaze and the pegasus saw just how her eyes twinkled with unrestrained mirth.
“But I’m a Wonderbolt! I’m the Wonderbolt!” Spitfire grimaced as her voice came out in a high, caterwauling whine.
A snort of giggles escaped Redheart’s lips and she turned back to her work, hiding her blossoming smile behind her clipboard.
Warmth raced along Spitfire’s muzzle as her feathers ruffled. Though the captain in her frowned in disapproval, she felt herself pout, something she hadn’t done since she was assigned as Blaze’s wingpony in the Academy. “Shut up! It’s not funny!”
That did it. Whether it was her pout, her words, the way she said them, or a combination of all three, Redheart’s composure broke. Peals of laughter filled the room as she threw her head back and dropped her clipboard on the floor. She squeezed her eyes shut and wrapped a foreleg around her barrel, soon doubling over as her laughter continued unabated.
For those few moments, Redheart’s guard had dropped entirely. Gone was the air of professionalism and that wall that kept her as Spitfire’s nurse and Spitfire as her patient. As she laughed, she was simply a pony. If her coat seemed to glow in the sunset before, it shined now as it caught the golden light flooding the room, bending and twisting it down the curves of her figure. Her smile spread from ear to ear, offering a fleeting glimpse at the mare under the nurse’s cap.
That mare, Spitfire had decided, was just like her laughter— well worth suffering through a few barbs and entertainment at her expense.
Yet, there was still an image to maintain. Puffing out her cheeks, Spitfire huffed and crossed her forelegs over her chest. “I’m like the most famous pegasus in Equestria! Ponies, griffons, zebras, donkeys—they all know who I am! I haven’t met a filly or colt yet who—stop laughing!”
“I’m sorry,” Redheart said between the last, lingering wheezes. She cracked open one eye, bright and beautiful and tearing up from the force of her delight. Spitfire’s lip trembled, threatening to match the other mare’s smile. “But the look on your face and how upset you were—I couldn’t help it!” Giggles slipped out every few words as she wiped her eyes and sat on her haunches. Exhaling, she regarded the pegasus with warmth filling the contours of her face and her smile wide and welcoming. “Oh, I needed that.”
Snorting, Spitfire looked away before her smile could fully form. “Yeah, you’re welcome. Glad I could be useful for a good laugh.”
“Oh, come now, Spitfire. I really am sorry if you’re really bugged by this.” Redheart’s hoof found her shoulder and gently squeezed. She felt the nurse’s presence at her side and resisted the urge to seek her out and pull her closer and exact her vengeance. Everypony had a few spots that made them melt or squeal; it was just a matter of finding them.
Soon.
Spitfire grunted, but made no move to shrug the hoof off.
“It must be refreshing, though, isn’t it?” Redheart asked, the imploring tone of her voice making Spitfire’s ear flick. “Meeting somepony who’s never heard of you? It’s a blank slate. How often do you get that?”
Spitfire’s frown faltered. Her ear flicked again and she glanced at the hoof on her shoulder. A second later, she followed it to the eyes of its owner. How could any frown stand a chance? “That could be kinda cool,” she relented, then wrinkled her snout. “But still, how could she not know what a Wonderbolt is?”
“Don’t make me laugh again. Laughing hurts,” Redheart said, her tone playful. “And is that really the strangest thing you’ve ever seen?”
“Uh, yeah? The Wonderbolts have been around forever! Everypony knows who we are!”
“Everypony.” Redheart nodded, her smile coy and her eyebrow raised. “Except for Starlight Glimmer.”
Spitfire looked away before Redheart could see her pout again. “Whatever.”
She nearly jumped when she felt Redheart’s hoof leave her shoulder and move to her mane. “Aww,” the nurse cooed, tousling Spitfire’s already messy mane. “You’re so cute when you’re all pouty.”
“Careful, Red,” Spitfire warned, smoothing her mane back. There was little chance to stop the grin cocking across her muzzle. “You’re playing with fire.”
“Just like a little foal,” Redheart continued. The corner of her lips tugged upwards in a smirk as she pinched Spitfire’s cheek. “So desperate to be at the centre of everypony’s attention.”
And, with that, the gauntlet was thrown. Anything was fair game, now. A low growl built up in the back of Spitfire’s throat and she regarded Redheart with a hooded stare. “Just you wait until this cast comes off, Red,” she purred. “We’ll see what you’re saying after I rock your world.”
To her surprise and delight, Redheart returned the stare, if only for a second. “Keep on dreaming, Spitfire,” she said, patting the pegasus’ cheek. “It’s important for the Captain of the Wonderbolts to have some aspirations.”
The temptation to push things a bit farther was there. A little more banter, and Spitfire might finally have a fully-flustered Redheart before her, ready to be worked like putty in her hooves. But, just as she was about to open her mouth, she bit her tongue.
Behave.
“Yeah.” Swallowing down any unwanted and flirtatious comments, Spitfire cleared her throat. “That, and books.” Waving a foreleg, she gestured to the stacks of books on her bedside tables. “Apparently.”
“Nice of Twilight to bring them all in.” Redheart hummed, running her hoof down along the spines of the stack next to her. “A better variety than what we have here, but that’s not very surprising once you’ve seen the size of—oh!”
“Oh?” Spitfire intoned, tilting her head. The nurse’s hoof hovered over the spine of one book about halfway down the pile. Her eyes were wide and her lips parted. “Something good in there?”
“You could say that,” Redheart said as the shock melted away from her face. A fond smile took its place as she tilted the books above with one hoof while using the other to slide another out. The smile grew as she stared at the cover for a few long seconds. “I haven’t seen this one in a long, long time. Maybe you’d want to give it a try?”
Curious, Spitfire held out her hoof. Reluctance flitted through Redheart’s eyes for an instant before she passed the book over.
The book itself was bound in a faded yellow cover, the colour reminding Spitfire of a pale morning’s sunrise in Cloudsdale. A pony with wings a horn, and a mane that seemed to flow around it stared back up at her through teal eyes. The title was worn, but legible. “The Last Alicorn?”
Redheart’s head nodded in a quick bob. “It was my favourite book growing up. I used to stay up late when my parents thought I was asleep and read it over and over again.” Again Spitfire felt her presence at her side, and a glance up and to the left showed the nurse hovering over her, tail swishing behind her. “It’s set in a world from long ago, not too long after the first Hearth’s Warming. There’s magic, adventure, love, and the most wonderful characters.”
From how close she was, Spitfire could almost smell whatever shampoo Redheart used under the sterile scent of hospital disinfectant. She resisted the urge to lean in closer. It was something familiar, something spicy. Cinnamon?
“There’s this bumbling unicorn who wants to be a great magician; a mad, old king who wants to capture all of the world’s beauty for himself; and, of course, the alicorn,” Redheart continued, speaking faster and giddier as she went on. If she went on much longer, Spitfire wouldn’t be too surprised to see her start bouncing in place.
Her energy proved infectious, however, as Spitfire found herself grinning and sitting up, almost close enough to brush their shoulders together. “Really? Sounds like a good read.” Tapping the cover, she flashed Redheart a toothy smirk. “Maybe I’ll have to find out just how good a read it is.”
When Redheart looked at her, there were nothing short of stars in her eyes. “I bet you’d love it! It would be so fun to have somepony to talk to about it.”
“Then I guess I have to read it, don’t I?” Winking, Spitfire opened the front cover. As she was about to turn past the author’s forward to the first page, something caught her eye. Brow furrowing, she turned back to the inside cover. There, written in the squiggly penmanship of a foal’s hoofwriting, was a name.
Property of Redheart. If found, please return to 82 Saddle Street, Ponyville.
Staring at the page, Spitfire reached out for Redheart. “Hey, Red,” she said, holding up the book to show a much younger Redheart’s signature. “Check this out.”
“Hmm?” Blinking rather owlishly, Redheart’s gaze followed the goldenrod hoof to the page. A sharp intake of breath later and Spitfire watched the other mare’s eyes widen. “Oh,” she breathed, falling to her haunches from shaky legs as she took the book. Slowly, a small, sincere smile danced over her muzzle. For the second time in as many hours, her guard had fallen. “I thought that this was long since gone.”
The smirk that flickered on Spitfire’s lips was something softer than it usually was. “Guess it’s not.”
Redheart’s giggle chimed in the hospital room. Tilting her head, her smile grew. It wasn’t by much, but it was there, and it was for Spitfire. “I guess it’s not, is it?”
“Unless there’s somepony else in town named Redheart, then nope! Well, actually ...” A teasing edge warped Spitfire’s smirk and she waggled her ears. “Unless you have a sister I don’t know about.”
A snort and a light cuff around the head were Redheart’s response. “You had to go and ruin a perfectly nice moment, didn’t you?” Though she shook her head, there was no malice in the nurse’s words. The stars were still in her eyes, and a warmth bloomed in Spitfire’s chest.
“I didn’t say anything! But I’m growing on you,” Spitfire said, rubbing the spot where Redheart bopped her. “Aren’t I?”
Again, Redheart shook her head, but her smile never wavered. Softly, she brushed a pearly white hoof over her foalhood signature. “I really thought that this was gone for good.”
Resisting the urge to give a lopsided grin, Spitfire instead schooled her expression into something more akin to a Wonderbolt officer. The change in topic was abrupt—discarded, but not denied. “Do books go missing permanently from the library often? I don’t know her all that well, but something tells me Twilight would have a fit if they did.”
“Hardly a bookmark gets out of place with Twilight around. No, it’s just—when I was a foal, this was my favourite book,” Redheart said, closing the book and tracing her hoof down along the title and cover art. “One day, the library put up a notice, asking for donations. I thought if I loved The Last Alicorn so much, then so would foals everywhere. Besides, it was just going to be in the library, so I could go read it whenever I wanted. It wasn’t like I was throwing it away.”
Spitfire’s ears perked up at Redheart’s tone. Her composure fell to a frown at the subdued, quavering tone to her voice. “What happened?”
A shudder shook Redheart’s frame and she hugged the book against her with a foreleg. “A monster named Tirek.”
Ears standing ramrod straight, Spitfire narrowed her eyes and tried to keep the snarl from her face. “Yeah,” she said, growling in the back of her throat. “I remember him.”
“He destroyed the Golden Oaks Library. One second it was there, and the next there was this flash of light. Once the dust settled, there was nothing but a smoldering crater left.”
Spitfire bit her lip and, not without a half-second’s trepidation, reached out with her hoof and found Redheart’s shoulder. She squeezed, returning a gesture of comfort and companionship shown to her more than once in the last week. “I’m sorry.”
“I assumed this went up in smoke with the rest of the library.” Redheart’s smile was something soft and gentle. A light laugh shook her frame. “But here it is.”
“Yeah ...” Spitfire trailed off, feeling her brow furrow. Then, as an idea struck her, her face lit up. Nudging Redheart, she trailed her hoof down from the mare’s shoulder, along the crook of her foreleg, stopping just shy of holding hooves. There was the risk that this could end poorly, but as a daredevil by trade, danger was little more than an occupational hazard.
Redheart quirked a brow. When Spitfire moved her hoof, she brought the two of them closer together so that when they turned their heads, they were almost muzzle-to-muzzle.
Spitfire shot a disarming smile. “Hey, Red?”
Redheart exhaled, tickling the fur up and down Spitfire’s muzzle. “What, Spitfire?”
“I’ve got a question for you.”
Redheart raised her other eyebrow.
Softening her features, Spitfire tried to emulate the same warmth she felt coming off of Redheart every day. “I was wondering if you wanted to read it with me?”
“What?” Redheart blinked, her eyes flicking from Spitfire, to the book, to their nearly entwined hooves, and then back to Spitfire. Her hoof inched away as she asked, “Why?”
“Why not?” Spitfire countered. “Because it’ll be fun!”
For her part, Redheart opened her mouth before closing it again. She repeated this process once or twice more before she looked away. Shuffling her hooves, Spitfire saw her glance at the clock. “I really shouldn’t,” she said at length. “My shift’s over in just a few minutes, and I really should be getting home so that you can have your rest.”
The lack of conviction in Redheart’s voice was a clarion call. When she bit her lip, Spitfire took her turn to arch her brow and smile. Scooching over to the side, she patted the empty spot on the bed. It may not have exactly been protocol, but there was plenty of room for two ponies—provided they didn’t mind getting a little snug.
Somewhere in the recesses of Redheart’s throat, a low whine built up. “Maybe the first couple chapters couldn’t hurt. Just let me go clock out, and I’ll be right back!”
Chuckling to herself while Redheart turned tail and all but sprinted from the room, Spitfire picked up the book she was about to start reading from where it was dropped on the mattress. As she traced her hoof over the filly hoofwriting, any doubt vanished from her mind.
Twilight Sparkle was, without a doubt, the best princess in Equestria.
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Notable for being penned by one of the very few successful Diamond Dog authors of the last century.
Liked this a lot! Redheart's sadness over the library was very touching, and Twilight was just so likeable
Loved the vibe with Spike and Starlight too.
One thing I might highlight:
Your Majesty, as a title, is usually used for kings and queens, with Your Highness or Your Royal Highness for princes and princesses. I know MLP usually goes with Princess as a term of address, like if Twilight's talking to Celestia, and I can't remember if they've ever used Your Highness, but I'm fairly sure they've never used Your Majesty (perhaps even for Chrysalis and Sombra, the only two it would be correct for) as I'd have noticed that and remembered.
I noticed Spitfire didn't point out that, thanks to the book inscription, she now has Redheart's home address...
Anyway, lovely to see an update, thanks for this
She'd
I can hear the flame war now.
I think I found a problem. There's no next button at the end of the chapter for me to press. I must now stare at screen until it magically appears.
Oo I this is really getting good.
And this is my favorite chapter so far. Its always a great feeling when you stumble across something that someone you like loves then watch as they nerdgasm about it. That then brings up those feelings you have about the things you love, good feels.
This was a really cute chapter and very enjoyable.
it really nice that Spits get to see a piece of Red's foalhood. 
Are more updates coming?
8134644
Thank you for commenting. I just posted a blog explaining the lack of updates.
The short answer, though, is that yes, I do have more updates planned. A combination of real life, other projects, and finding and fixing problematic pieces of the next chapter(s) have delayed me more than I would have liked. The next chapters should be coming sooner than later.
Praise the two sisters! I've been checking everynight for the next chapter to come, but then started to worry it wouldn't. Tamaeus, I think its unethical to be peddling this literary equivelent to cocaine then holding it back, some of us are itching for our fix!
But serioisly I'm loving this story a lot. Keep up the good work and take all the time you need. I cant wait for this next chapter! (scratches at the non-existent bugs)
Hello, first off I want to congratulate you on making a story involving nurse RedHeart and romance that is actually really, REALLY good. I know you posted an update a while ago, yet it's been about a week science I've heard anything from you. Not to hurry you, but I was wondering when the next chapter would be out?
I like your story!
8155074
Thank you for commenting! I'm working on drafting it right now. With any luck, it should be out this Sunday if I can recover from an imploded computer and burst water pipe at home.
Once it's finished and edited, I will post it.
I totally didn't stay up until 1am on a work night to finish reading this...
Not at all, I have willpower I swear!
Redheart: What did I say about causing my patients distress?!
OOooooo. Sick burn, Red.