Glow

by Carapace

5. Our First Date

By the time Twilight escaped Cadence’s clutches, her cheeks were a bright, rosy hue and her feathers were as ruffled as they’d been when Spitfire flirted with her the night before.

A pair of saddlebags bearing her cutie mark were strapped snugly around her waist, loaded with whatever books on Equestrian legends she managed to force into them without tearing the seams. Though her mind should’ve been on her date and how she might strike up the conversation about their culture’s lore, it was instead on a two rather nosy members of her family.

“I’ll be fine, Cadence!” she huffed to herself, stomping a hoof like a petulant filly and tossing her well-brushed, expertly styled mane. “Seriously! This is just supposed to be a casual lunch between Spitfire and me! I didn’t need all this!”

She’d lost track of the number of times she informed Cadence of that very fact, each time receiving a little giggle, an almost pitying smile and pat on the shoulder, and a knowing “Oh, Twily…” that made her hackles rise.

Shining snickering in the background and telling her to make sure she was home before eleven or he’d come looking for her didn’t help matters in the slightest. And just who said she’d be staying out that late to begin with? They were having lunch at two in the afternoon—she’d be back plenty early.

Even so, by Celestia, she was a grown mare! She could stay out however late she pleased and didn’t have to answer to her overprotective big brother or her nosy sister-in-law if she didn’t want to.

Though, if things went well, she could make no promises to herself that she wouldn’t spend the evening squealing and jumping in place with Cadence.

Focus, Twilight, she scolded herself, turning her thoughts toward her date. Today is about you and Spitfire, and trying to start this relationship off right.

The thought alone brought a smile to her face as she trotted through the foyer.

With a bounce in her step and a fluffing of her feathers, Twilight spared a nod to the on-duty guards as she passed them by. Her hooves thumped against the soft red carpet leading toward the main entrance, the grand hallway with pristine tiled floor, high arching walls, and the main castle door where all high profile visitors were received.

As she rounded the corner, Twilight found herself muzzle-to-muzzle with a stallion of sky blue coat and fluffy blue mane. “Party Favor!” she yelped. She brought a hoof to her chest, taking a deep breath to settle her racing heart. “You scared the feathers off me!”

Party Favor gave a sheepish smile, rubbing at the back of his mane. “Sorry, Princess Twilight,” he said, then bowed low. “I didn’t mean to. Pinkie wanted to have an, um, post-Gala after-party-party, and Sugar Belle seemed to like the idea, so they sent me out to get a few things so they could make cake.” He turned to the side to show off a pair of saddlebags stuffed to the brim, ready to burst at the seams. “She told me to make it back double-pronto, and—”

“Say no more. And stand up straight, Party.” Twilight waved him off, more than familiar with Pinkie’s antics. Fidgety and skittish though he was, Party somehow had the patience of Celestia herself, putting up with her silliness. “Get that stuff to Pinkie and collect your prize, Party. And try not to let them leave the kitchen a mess for poor Al Dente.”

“I’ll do my best,” he replied with a chuckle. “But you know how Pinkie and Sugar can get when they start baking. That said, I’d better run before they come looking for me.” Giving her another bow, Party stepped around her and began to trot down the hall she’d just come from, but stopped after a couple steps. “Er, Princess?”

Twilight rolled her eyes, turning to look over her shoulder at him. “You don’t have to call me by title, Party. We’re friends.”

“Right, sorry. I keep forgetting. I just, um, wanted to say—” he bit his lip, awkwardly scuffing a hoof against the tile floor “—I hope your date with Captain Spitfire goes well, Twilight.”

Blinking a couple times, Twilight offered a small smile in return. “Thank you, Party.” She turned to look toward the door again, giving a self-pitying laugh. “I’m actually a little nervous. Which is normal, according to everything Cadence and Shining told me, at least. Rarity also said something about there being a feeling of butterflies in my stomach and that being a sign of excitement and nerves, and I needed to find a way to use that to guide me along tonight, while Rainbow told me last night that I should power through it and just let my ‘innate awesomeness’ radiate through, or something to that effect. But Applejack contradicted that when she said something about not pretending to be anything I wasn’t and being genuine, and Pinkie—” she stopped herself, closing her eyes tight and drawing in a deep breath. Holding it a moment, she released slowly through her nose. “I’m sorry, just nerves. Thank you for wishing me luck, Party. Hopefully it helps.”

Party returned her smile, but hesitated to walk away. He glanced down a moment, then up to meet her eyes again, looking as though he had more to say. Just as he opened his mouth, his ears twitched and his eyes went wide.

“Paaaaaaaaartyyyyyyyyyyyyyy!” Pinkie’s voice, tinged with irritation, echoed off the castle walls. The Royal Guards at their posts pinned their ears back against their scalps, visibly cringing at her volume, far away though she was.

“Oh, shoot!” he yelped, leaping as though his tail had been dipped in boiling water. Giving another, more frantic bow, he scooted off down the hall, calling back at the top of his lungs, “Coming, Sweetie Pie!”

Shaking her head, Twilight could only chuckle. If he could pluck up the courage to ask Pinkie if it was okay to write her, I can survive one lunch date with Spitfire.

After the night they shared together, they were certainly comfortable on a more intimate level. The mere thought brought a blush back to her cheeks and a flash of heat beneath her tail, like the burning fire within roared to life at the very thought of Spitfire in bed with her.

No, bad! She shook her head. We agreed to take things slower this time around. “Like a tryout,” she whispered, repeating Spitfire’s words. “See if there’s a foundation for a romantic relationship, explore it if there’s something. If not, we can be friends—who just so happen to have been together in a way that most friends haven’t.”

Flicking her tail anxiously, she glanced toward the door and swallowed the lump in her throat. With no shortage of trepidation, Twilight forced her hooves to move. One step after the other—like she had to make a conscious effort to raise each hoof off the ground and go forward.

As she neared the open doorway, her ears pricked forward at the sound of powerful wings flapping. The shadow of a pegasus circled overhead, shrinking in size until Spitfire’s brilliant yellow coat and flamelike mane were visible.

Twilight’s heart did a backflip as she watched Spitfire touch down on the cobblestone pathway, her lips slowly tugged upward into a bright smile. Her hooves felt lighter, her wings ruffled up excitedly. She moved with a bounce in her step, almost prancing to meet her date at the door.

“Good afternoon, Spitfire!” she greeted.

Spitfire returned her smile with a toothy grin. “Hey, there, hon!” She stepped close and threw a hoof around Twilight’s neck in a tight hug. Rubbing their cheeks together a moment, she drew back to offer a little nuzzle. “Good to see you again. You look wonderful.”

“Thanks!” Happily, Twilight returned the gesture, adding a kiss to the end of Spitfire’s snout. “You look really nice out of your uniform,” she said, her voice low so the guards standing by the door wouldn’t hear. Her eyes flitted to Spitfire’s soft downy feathers and lit up. “You preened again?”

“Spent a little extra time for you this morning.” She pressed her lips against Twilight’s, lingering a moment, but keeping it chaste and light as promised the morning before. Drawing back, she stole a kiss to the end of Twilight’s muzzle, chuckling at the way she wrinkled her snout. “I take it you approve?”

“Very much, yes! You have no idea!”

“Oh, I don’t know about that! But it’s nice to hear, hon!” A playful gleam flashed in her eyes. “Have fun at breakfast yesterday?”

The smile slid from her face, her muzzle creased into a scowl. “You did that on purpose!” she growled in faux indignation.

Spitfire giggled and stole another kiss. “Sure did, hon! Question is what are you—” she poked Twilight in the chest “—gonna do about it, hmm?”

The merry twinkling in those brilliant amber eyes and that cheeky, infectious grin brought the smile back to her muzzle. Twilight tried to fight it at first, the corners of her mouth seemed to pull upward in spite of her efforts to maintain her scowl, giving her a rather silly look as though she were trying to fight back laughter.

That smirk, that damnable smirk, played upon Spitfire’s lips again. She knew it, too. Spitfire knew she had Twilight right in her hooves.

It was up to her to figure a way to return the favor. “You’ll pay for that,” she said warningly. “I don’t know how, I don’t know when, but you will.”

Spitfire’s smirk remained, she chuckled and nodded. “I look forward to it, hon!” She stole her third kiss of the day, then leaned forward to whisper in her ear, “Just try to make it entertaining, eh? I’d hate to have to teach my date the fine art of teasing.”

Twilight bristled, her wings flared out, as though she were ready to pounce. “I’m not that much of a shut in!”

Another laugh, she stole one last kiss, this time capturing Twilight’s lips. “We’ll just see about that when you make your move, then. For now, I believe I owe you lunch and another round of ‘real talk’.” Spitfire stepped to the side, jerking her head toward the clear blue sky. “Feel like joining me on another flight?”

Standing up straight, Twilight perked up her ears. “I’d be happy to. Did you find a place you liked?”

“Yeah, Soarin’ mentioned a place out past the higher end homes. In Little Roam there’s this family-owned place called Don Contorno’s he said we should try. He said something about it being a little pricey, but I’m more than good for it.”

Blinking, Twilight stared at Spitfire in muted wonder. Anypony who lived in Canterlot knew the name Don Contorno. Though its location might make it seem somewhat of a little-known neighborhood standby, it was one of the higher end dining experiences in the city in terms of quality of food and service.

And yet, the prices weren’t outrageous enough to break the bank—certainly, if one went to Don Contorno’s, they would spend more than a few bits dining on homemade pasta, fresh baked bread, and their choice of the finest wines from across Equestria and abroad, but it was affordable enough for the working family to spend a nice evening out once in awhile.

How long has it been since I last ate there with my family? Or Princess Celestia? Though her feathers ruffled and fluffed up, Twilight kept her smile casual and did her best to keep the excitement out of her voice. “Well, if that’s what you’d like to try, I’m all for it!”

“Sweet.” Spitfire shrugged and gave a toss of her fiery mane. “I’ve never been there, but he and Fleet swore by their feathers that the pasta was to die for. Bill’s on me.” Before Twilight could open her mouth to protest, she waved a hoof. “Ah, ah! No arguing! Already called it, so I’m paying! Deal with it, hon.”

“B-But—”

A yellow hoof was pressed against her lips for the second time in three days. “If it makes you feel better, you can get it on our second date. Today’s on me.”

Twilight let out a little whine, but nodded. She brushed away Spitfire’s hoof and said, “Fine, you can pay today. But no trickery or distractions or what have you when it’s my turn!”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.” Spitfire unfurled her wings and bent her knees, ready for takeoff. “After you, Twilight,” she said, nodding toward the sky again.

With a nod in return, Twilight gave a mighty flap of her wings and took to the air, followed closely behind by Spitfire.

“Nice takeoff,” Spitfire praised. “Now, Soarin said it was toward the south, like you were gonna fly toward Ponyville, so we’ll get a little more altitude and bank left. Okay?”

“Got it!” Twilight called back as she adjusted herself to follow Spitfire’s lead. Finding Contorno’s when she had four hooves on the ground was easy, but the aerial view made it an entirely different story.

At least I’ll get to enjoy a nice, leisurely flight with her, she mused, her eyes wandered over Spitfire’s form and lingered on her toned flank and flame lick cutie mark. The fire in her chest burned hotter, memories of their night together came forth unbidden and brought a blush to her cheeks.

And it’s always nice to take the scenic route. The view is quite lovely.

---

Spitfire let out a low whistle as she stepped inside Don Contorno’s. The low lightning, the polished wooden furnishing, waiters and waitresses dressed in white button down shirts, hustling around with trays of food and pitchers held aloft in their magic spoke of a rather classy establishment.

So much for low key, she thought, glancing around curiously.

The restaurant itself was very nice, and held a rather welcoming atmosphere in the décor and presence of the staff. But at the same time, it wasn’t overly stifling. Families sat together—some dressed in rather expensive clothing, some having gone more casual—and chatted as they ate, their conversations kept to a dull roar.

A true Roam style affair. Not quite as low key and casual as she’d have liked, but more of a close-knit, friendly place.

With a little hum, she nodded. All right, Soar. Good call on this place’s feel. Now, let’s see if you’re as good a judge of their food.

Who was she kidding? If Soarin recommended food, it was bound to be good.

“Welcome to Don Contorno’s, Princess Twilight, Captain Spitfire,” a middle aged stallion with a hint of gray to his mane greeted. “A table for two? Or will there be more ponies joining your party?”

“No, a table for two will be fine,” Spitfire replied.

He stepped out from behind his podium and bowed to the pair. “Of course. If you would follow me, Your Highness, Captain, I’ll lead you to your table.”

Nodding, Spitfire gestured for Twilight to go before her, receiving a smile in return as the younger mare passed. She followed along, her eyes wandering aimlessly over her surroundings, but lingering on Twilight’s backside—the smooth mulberry coat, the starburst cutie mark, the little bit of bounce in her flanks, and the swaying tail of purple, blue, and magenta.

She smirked, licking her lips as she enjoyed the little show Twilight was giving her. A fair trade in exchange for the stolen looks and wandering eyes during their flight.

Don’t wander too much, old girl, she scolded herself lightly. Already went too far once, don’t want to scare her off, no matter how tempting it is to nip at that rump.

Later. Much later. They still needed to feel out the relationship before they went back to enjoying the more physical aspects of love.

The host lead them to a small booth along the back wall; a tiny candle hung on a stand on the wall, reaching out to cast its light upon the table. Everything was set, menus resting upon plates, silverware set upon tablecloths as pure white as Princess Celestia’s coat.

She gave another hum of approval and slid into the booth across from Twilight.

“Your waiter will be with you shortly, ladies. Is there anything I can get for you in the meantime?”

“Not for me right now, thanks.” Spitfire looked to Twilight and gestured with a hoof. “How about you, hon?”

Twilight shook her head. “No, thank you, sir. I’m fine for now.”

He nodded in reply. “Very good, Your Highness. I’ll take my leave, then.” With another bow, he stepped back and turned sharply on his hooves, striding away from the table with his head held high.

Offering a warm smile, Spitfire settled into her seat. “So, I see you brought a little bit of reading for us, eh?” She nodded toward the saddlebags Twilight had deposited into the booth.

Those cute purple-coated cheeks tinged a light brown, yet another blush and, as typical of Twilight, she ducked her head between her shoulders. “I thought we could discuss a few old legends—if you want to, that is,” she added hastily. “After we eat and talk about other things, of course, it was just an idea.”

“I think that’d be just fine, hon,” she replied. “But like you said, that can be after we eat. Until then, let’s get to know each other a little better than we did at the Gala.” Spitfire paused and wrinkled her snout. “Okay, let me rephrase that: let’s get to know each other as mares, like we started to… gosh, my mouth isn’t cooperating—just let’s talk about things.” Bringing a hoof to her forehead, she propped her elbow up on the table. “So, what sorts of magic do you like studying, hon?”

Twilight pricked her ears forward and sat up straight. “Oh, I like to dabble in several different fields! I’ve experimented with long-range teleportation, transformation, conjuring, I have had an incident or two that involved time travel—but I can’t go too much into that, I’m afraid.” Her smile turned a bit sheepish, but just for an instant. “Oh! I’m also rather skilled in alchemy and potion-making! I’ve been working to teach a couple young fillies how to cast spells and perform some basic alchemy on top of all that…”

The speed at which she rattled off the different branches nearly made Spitfire stagger, if not for years of listening to commanding officers barking orders or subordinates fire off reports like foals on a sugar rush.

Away she goes, off to the races, Spitfire made herself comfortable in her seat and let out a low whistle. “So, you’ve got your hooves in quite a few different pies when it comes to magic. How do you manage to pick so much up? I’ve not heard of too many who can juggle more than a couple of those branches.”

“There’s, um, not really many at all,” Twilight shifted in place, her ears splayed back. “My brother is probably the closest unicorn to myself and the other princesses in terms of raw power and diversity of his magic, though his speciality is in his bubble shields and warding spells.”

“Captain Armor knows warding spells?” Her brow arched. That was certainly new. “I thought he just tossed up a shield spell and let some unfortunate sod try to overpower him.”

Twilight gave a little wince and sideways bob of her head. “Er, yes and no. His shields are definitely strong enough to withstand a lot of brute force, but he adds a layer of warding so no pony can just use a counter spell to kill it, or teleport in and out as they please—for example, whenever he or Cady thought I was upset about something, he’d put a warded shield around me so I couldn’t run off and he’d make me sit down and talk to him.”

“Interesting, I never would’ve guessed. No offense intended, but I thought his spell was all brawn, no finesse.” Spitfire tapped a hoof against the countertop. “Although, that’d probably be like somepony saying that I just fly around in fancy patterns with a few friends.”

“Exactly!” Twilight nodded so fast her bangs shifted out of place and covered her eyes. With a wry glare, she blew a sharp burst of air through her nose and flipped them back into place, then continued. “There’s just as much precision and practice that goes into his shields and warding as there is in one of your routines. It’s not visible, but it’s there. And Shining is the unicorn equivalent of a Wonderbolt when it comes to them.”

“Well, well! Very high praise! Not gonna lie, I never would’ve thought it was quite as complicated or intricate as one of our routines,” Spitfire said. She leaned forward, resting her chin on the back of her hoof. “So, tell me, if Captain Shining Armor of the Royal Guard’s shield spells are to unicorns as the Wonderbolts’ flight routines are to pegasi, what does that make—” she lifted her chin to point her hoof at Twilight “—Twilight Sparkle, Princess of Friendship and former student of Princess Celestia, when she uses them?”

She had to fight back a chuckle at the way Twilight looked down at the table and began fidgeting in place. But before she could throw in a comment about how cute the blush rising in her date’s cheeks was, the sound of hoofsteps close by their table made them turn to find a young mare dressed smartly in a white collared shirt, with a tray carrying two glasses of water held in the soft pink glow of her magic.

“Your Highness,” she greeted, bowing first to Twilight, “Captain Spitfire, thank you for joining us this afternoon.” She floated the drinks to rest on the table, and deftly slid napkins into place beneath them. “My name is Rosebud and I’ll be your waitress today. My little sister Carnation Petal will be helping out as well. May I start you off with something to drink? Wine, perhaps?”

Spitfire wrinkled her snout and shook her head. “Little early in the day for me to start drinking, so I’ll pass on the wine. I don’t suppose you’ve got apple cider?”

Rosebud smiled and bobbed her head. “Yes, of course! Papa buys it in bulk from Mister Filthy Rich and the famed Apple family of Ponyville.”

“Oh?” Twilight cut in, her ears stood up straight. “If you’ve got Apple family cider, I’d like some as well.”

“I’ll have them for you straight away, Your Highness, Captain Spitfire.” Quick as a flash, Rosebud pulled a tiny notepad and pencil out from her shirt pocket and scribbled down their drink order. “Have you had a chance to look over the menu?”

“Er, no,” Spitfire mumbled sheepishly. She took hold of the sturdy black book and flipped it open, her eyes skimming over it like one of her reports. “Uh… hmm…”

“I can come back with your drinks and some fresh baked bread if you’d like, Captain. Then take your orders, if you’re ready.”

Glancing across the table at Twilight, who was also looking hers over, Spitfire nodded. “Yeah, that might be for the best. Sorry, we got chatting…”

Rosebud smiled and shook her head. “No trouble at all, Captain. Papa loves to let ponies sit and take their time. If you need longer, just let me know and I’ll be around.” Bowing her head, she flipped her notepad shut and trotted away, pausing to duck under a floating tray as she made her way toward the kitchen.

Spitfire hummed a tune as she looked through the items. Pastas, steamed vegetables, soups, it all looked so delicious. “I should’ve asked for her recommendation,” she mused. “Not sure if I can decide.”

There was a moment’s silence as she looked the menu over, her tail flicked in irritation. How hard could it be to decide something? When there were so many tasty sauces, different pastas, vegetables, salads…

Okay, quite difficult. No wonder Soarin likes this place so much, she thought, barely holding back a snort of laughter. He could sit in here, close his eyes, and have his hoof land on something he could just bury his face in. And Fleetfoot would let him.

Her mind conjured up the image of Soarin with his muzzle deep in alfredo while Fleetfoot sat across from him, calmly eating her food with proper table manners, occasionally stopping to remind him to at least wipe his face every now and again.

This time she couldn’t withhold a snort. Dear Celestia, that’s a sight I’ve seen way too many times with him and apple pie. A quick shake of her head cast the image from her mind. Got alfredo on the brain, so I’ll go with the fettuccine and broccoli. And maybe a salad. Garden looks good.

With a flick of her hoof, Spitfire closed her menu. “Okay, I’m ready when you are, hon.”

“I haven’t mastered everything, you know.”

Spitfire blinked, staring at Twilight uncertainly. “Er… I don’t think anypony’s mastered ‘everything’, hon.”

“No, no, that’s not what I mean.” Twilight looked up, her ears laid flat against her head and her smile had fallen. “I mean with magic. You asked about my shields.”

“Yeah. I was just curious how you compared with your brother.” She tilted her head to one side. “What’s wrong?”

Twilight shook her head. “It’s nothing. I’m being silly, I know you didn’t mean…” She trailed off and closed her eyes, taking a deep breath. “I’ve had a few ponies assume that my talent with magic means that I can just do a spell and then have it mastered. That’s not the case at all. I can do a lot, I can learn a lot, but I have to practice more than most because I’m learning so much!”

“Ah.” Spitfire hummed. “It takes more effort because you don’t specialize? Like your brother with shields, or Fleetfoot with speed flying and Soarin with his power flying?”

“In a way, yes. When it comes to shield spells and warding, Shining is like the maestro. I’m more of, er, a renaissance mare.” She ducked her head, a hint of concern flashed in her eyes. “If it doesn’t sound too egotistical to say, that is. I just pick a lot of things up really fast, then I have to work to get better at them. So, by comparison, I can certainly match him in power, but…”

“He has the edge in terms of technique,” Spitfire finished for her.

With a sheepish grin, Twilight nodded. “Yeah. He’s got a knack for it, along with years of practice devoted to those specific areas. Well, on top of some offensive spells for the guard.” She folded her menu and placed it down upon the table, crossing her hooves one atop the other on the table. “But, for me, it took a lot of work to get where I am. You wouldn’t believe how much of a struggle it was for me to teleport short distances.”

“Probably about as much as it was for me to do a proper barrel roll without taking out Soarin and Fleetfoot.” A shudder ran down her spine, all the way to the tips of her feathers. “Seriously. It took longer than it should have.”

“You couldn’t do a proper barrel roll?” Twilight repeated, her voice tinged with incredulity.

Playfully, she raised an eyebrow. “Do I look like I’m lying, hon? Better yet, ask those two feather brains when I introduce you to them. It’s their favorite thing to laugh about that doesn’t involve a very drunken Firestorm.”

“I, um, if you don’t mind me saying…” her voice trailed off, Twilight poked her hooves together. “It’s difficult to imagine a scene like that. I mean, I saw you fly at Rainbow Falls and you were brilliant. And Rainbow always said…”

Spitfire let out a bark of laughter. “What? Don’t tell me she brought up my flight records? Hon, if you’re going off that, it’s probably as difficult as it is for me to think of you having trouble with the teleportation spell after I rode passenger with you?” Another blush colored Twilight’s cheeks, bringing forth another laugh. “But like you said, it didn’t just come easily.”

Ducking her head once again, Twilight offered a sheepish smile. “I just did the same thing I was upset with you for doing, didn’t I?”

“Heh, so you did.” Spitfire leveled her with a faux critical stare, one likely ruined by her cheeky grin. “I guess we’ll call that even, then. But I am curious as to which areas of magic you do lean more toward, the ones you put a bit more of your focus into, I mean.”

Just as she’d hoped, Twilight sat up a bit straighter. That pretty smile, toothy and full of glee, was back in place again. “I’d like that very much.”

Rosebud came by with their drinks, as if on cue. She neatly set them down on the table and took her notepad in her magic again. “Your Highness, Captain, are you ready?”

Spitfire and Twilight shared a look, each giving a small smile. “Yes,” Spitfire replied, “I think we are. Go ahead, Twilight.”

---

Lunch had been everything Soarin promised and more.

Accustomed though she was to eating out at high priced restaurants and dining with sponsors and politicians, Spitfire had to give credit where it was due. Don Contorno’s food was like eating back home—fresh made ingredients, prepared with great care and cooked to perfection in a way only her ma could manage. Not to mention the atmosphere certainly set a nice mood for talk, and Rosebud was happy to bring drinks as long as they stayed.

The tip she left might have been a bit over the top, and just might surprise the young mare, but it was worth it in spades.

Whatever it was about the place, Twilight was comfortable enough to talk without too much prompting. Of course, Spitfire asked questions here and there, and their byplay would go back toward her, but she didn’t have to coax words out of Twilight.

It felt more natural, like there was more ebb and flow, give and take. Twilight smiled, laughed that bubbly laugh of hers, and told stories about how her big brother—big, scary Captain Shining Armor—used to let her ride on his back while he pretended to buck and jump for all he was worth to throw her off, and if he did, he’d just catch her in his magic and tickle her silly.

All in all, Spitfire was quite surprised she didn’t have a heart attack at the image her mind conjured. Foal pictures, she resolved. I somehow need to find a picture of that. I know it exists somewhere.

Maybe if she played her cards right, they could arrange for an exchange of information. But, that was for later.

Once they’d finished their meal—and realized that they’d spent nearly an hour after doing so sitting around chatting, even after Spitfire had paid the bill—they made their way to the local park. Lush green grass, foals running and playing while their parents sat on the benches and watched, an old couple sat on a park bench feeding the pigeons a bit of birdseed.

“Nice place,” Spitfire commented. “A lot different from the Cloudsdale cloud fields.”

“Cadence and Shining used to bring Spike and I here when we were little,” Twilight replied. “We’d set up a big picnic blanket on that hill over there—” she waved a hoof to her left, toward a tiny hill with a young oak tree standing tall and proud by its lonesome “—and we’d just do everything. Reading, playing knights and dragons with Shining, Cadence would teach me how to dance…”

Smiling, Spitfire stepped closer, enough so their feathers brushed together as they walked. The saddlebags strapped to Twilight’s waist jostled and bumped against her flank with every step. “Foalhood memories are always sweet, aren’t they? I remember dad taking me out to the fields and racing with me all day when he wasn’t on tour. Captain Crossfire, if you’ve heard the name.”

Twilight stopped walking, her snout scrunched up rather cutely as she tried to connect it. “I know I’ve heard it before, he was fairly recent, I believe.”

“Heh, he’s my dad, not my granddad, hon. Yeah, he’s pretty recent.”

Rolling her eyes, Twilight trotted up and bumped her shoulder against Spitfire’s. “You know what I mean, you cheeky mare!” She giggled and stayed close. “You know, if we keep talking about foalhood memories, the little ones around here will start talking about us like we’re a couple of old mares.”

With a mock gasp, Spitfire returned the shoulder bump. “You take that back! I’ll have you know I’m as spry as ever, and energetic as a diamond dog in a room full of crystals!” Grinning, she leaned in to whisper in Twilight’s ear. “And to be completely fair, I don’t think you’ll find the foals talking about their princess like that, hon.”

“Fine! They’ll call you an old mare!” Her brilliant purple eyes seemed to dance with mischief, a far sight from the nervous mare at the Gala or the shifty little thing from the morning after. “And rightfully so!”

“Old mare?” Spitfire balked, her wings flared out and ears pinned back. “Why you little—Princess or not, I can still get you in the air and put you through your paces!”

Giggling like a little filly, Twilight stuck her tongue out and crossed her eyes. A display that would’ve most ponies tripping over themselves to see.

A not-so-subtle challenge.

Spitfire narrowed her eyes and, timing her steps, made to wrap a hoof around Twilight’s withers to pull her into a tight side hug and subsequent noogie.

But Twilight was waiting.

Quick as a flash, bright magenta light burst before her eyes and a popping sound met her ears. Spitfire blinked to rid herself of the white spots that dotted her vision, only to find empty space where Twilight had been. “What the hay…” Before she could even catch up, another popping sound came from her left. Turning, she came nose-to-nose with a cheekily grinning Twilight, who poked her right in the nose and popped out of existence again.

Teleporting! She realized. With a frustrated growl, she stomped the ground, her eyes flitted left and right to find her prey. Clever, hon. But I’m a lot quicker than you think. Next time I hear that little pop, your wings are clipped.

Her ears perked up to full height, Spitfire crouched low to the ground, ready to pounce and give Twilight a Wonderbolt sized noogie she wouldn’t soon forget. All she needed was the timing. If it was anything like the last, she should be showing up right about—

A pop sounded from her left, Spitfire whipped around and made to leap at Twilight, but came up grasping at air. The pop sounded to her right. She turned just in time to catch the burst of magenta as Twilight teleported again.

Left. Right. Behind. Right. Left. Above. Left. Left. Behind.

With a simple teleport spell, traveling a distance of maybe half a pony’s length at most, Twilight lead her on a merry dance, leaving her chasing in circles as if she were a puppy chasing her own tail.

Spitfire stopped in place, her brows flatlined. “Oh, you cheeky little…”

So Twilight wanted to taunt and play tag with a Wonderbolt, eh? She was in for a surprise. All she needed was a little feint to start the cycle off.

Her plan set in motion, Spitfire listened closely for the telltale sound of Twilight’s magic cutting through the air. She didn’t disappoint.

The first came off to her right. As soon as the pressurized rush of air reached her, she flicked her right ear toward the source and jerked her head as if to make a move. Predictably, a second pop sounded through the air, and started the real search.

Had she moved to her right, Spitfire would’ve been completely off balance when she heard the pop sound just over her left shoulder. Ha! Got you! With a triumphant grin splitting her muzzle, she whipped around, her weight shifted to her back hooves to push off and tackle Twilight.

But when she turned, she found Twilight standing well within her personal bubble, cheerfully grinning with her muzzle pressed against Spitfire’s.

A tiny squeak slipped from the back of her throat; her shifted weight made her rear back, comically flailing her hooves for balance.

Twilight’s shot out and took her right hoof, and with one quick jerk, pulled her in for a light peck on the lips. Her coat stood on end as Twilight’s magic washed over her, the world engulfed in a magenta glow, there was the feeling of being hooked and pulled along by her withers.

Brilliant purple eyes, alight with mischief, vivacity, and warmth dominated her vision. Soft grass tickled her ankles, a change from the feel of the sidewalk’s hard pavement against her hooves. She caught me, Spitfire mused, still preoccupied with the kiss.

A wave of dizziness hit her. Her knees buckled, brilliant purple eyes blurred and faded as blackness tinged the edges of her vision. A gentle, but firm hoof wrapped around her barrel and pulled her close against Twilight’s chest.

“Sorry,” Twilight’s voice whispered into her ear. “I forgot how jarring it could be if you don’t have practice as a passenger—I gave you warning last time.”

Spitfire gave a barely audible mumble, bringing a hoof to her forehead. “Ugh. Anypony get the number of that manticore that trampled me?”

Giggling, Twilight’s chest shook. Soft lips pressed into her forehead. “No manticores, Spitfire. Just me not thinking through with my teasing.” Another kiss to her forehead, this one fluffy and lingering. “I’m sorry.”

Through her groggy state of mind, Spitfire shook her head, rubbing her nose into the warm fur on Twilight’s chest. “’S okay, hon.” A playful smiled made it’s way across her muzzle, she leaned in close and breathed in the scent of Twilight’s perfume. White chocolate and roses. Red, Spitfire. Keep it clean. “Just means you have to deal with me leaning on you for a while.”

“I think I can accept that,” Twilight replied, her lips curved into a smile. Spitfire felt her shift, stepping around to support her from the left side. “I’m going to help walk you over to the tree I pointed to a bit ago. Just a few steps, if you feel up to it.”

Spitfire turned and leveled her with a bemused stare. “Hon, I’m a just little off kilter. If you can guide me, I’ll make it.”

Twilight let out a snort of laughter, but nodded. “All right, if you say so. I’m, er, I’m going to wrap my wing around you—just to steady you!” she said the last bit in a rush. “I don’t mean to jump straight to wing hugs, and I don’t mean this as an excuse! I just don’t want you to stumble!”

Quickly averting her gaze, Spitfire found herself fighting down a bit of a blush in her cheeks. This silly mare. “It’s fine, hon.” She turned back to press her lips against Twilight’s cheek and give a light nuzzle. “We’ll just call this one your mulligan, okay?”

Giving a nod and a crooked smile, Twilight unfurled her wing. Her soft purple feathers ran over Spitfire’s vibrant yellow, sending a tickling sensation down her wing.

As they came in contact with her back, Spitfire drew in a sharp breath. “Your feathers are soft,” she noted breathily.

“I preened yesterday,” Twilight replied, a hint of flattery in her tone. Her wing wrapped snuggly around Spitfire’s middle, pulling her in close as she began to slowly trot toward the tree. “Cadence helped me.”

Blinking to help clear her head, Spitfire allowed herself to be led toward the tree. “Well, you both did a great job.” With her head less muggy, she leaned in to nuzzle Twilight’s cheek. “So, what’s the plan? Doubt you teleporting me over to the tree you pointed out was coincidence.”

Twilight’s smile turned sheepish. “You caught me,” she admitted. “I sort of thought we could sit under it and look over a few of these.” She turned to nod at the books in her saddlebags. “If that’s okay with you, I mean.”

Spitfire stopped a few paces from the tree and turned into Twilight. “Hon, if you want to share your old picnic spot with me, I’m flattered.” She gave a light kiss to Twilight’s lips, nuzzling their snouts together. “I’m more than okay with that.”

The smile that split Twilight’s muzzle could’ve brought light to the deepest, darkest cave, or kept a pony warm through the Windigos’ endless winter.

They sat down, Twilight deftly removed her wing and folded it against her side as they leaned against the tree trunk. The warmth, the soft feeling of her feathers left Spitfire. Her smile faltered, a not-so-small part of her demanded it back.

Not yet, too early for that, she scolded herself. And I’m the one doing the wing-hugging, dang it. I’m the lead.

“So, what’ve you got on tap for us?” she asked.

Twilight lit her horn and floated a rather thick book out of her saddlebags. The title Tales of the Founders of Equestria was displayed on the side in neat, golden script. “I thought I’d pull out an old favorite first. Since we mentioned a couple stories while we were up on the cloud.”

Nodding, Spitfire settled in beside her, leaning in to look at the book as Twilight flitted through the pages. Their sides brushed together again. Soft feathers, warmth, the rhythm of Twilight’s breathing against her.

Almost hypnotic. Like an invitation to wrap her hooves around Twilight’s body and pull her into her lap to be smothered with kisses and nips to her cute, purple ears. Then, slowly lay her back, move on top, and—

Spitfire shook her head. Red. Keep it under wraps. “Which story do you wanna look at first?”

Humming, Twilight glanced at the index. “How about we start with ‘Whirlwind, Maple, and the Dragon of Craggy Peak Mountain’?”

“Heh, an old favorite. I’m cool with that.” Spitfire glanced skyward, frowning at the clouds dotting the sky. They looked suspiciously like thunderheads. “Don’t suppose you checked the weather schedule before we left, did you?”

“Er, no. Why?”

She nodded to the sky. “I didn’t either. We’re gonna have to keep an eye on those or we’ll end up soaked.”

“Don’t tell me the vaunted Captain of the Wonderbolts is afraid of a little rain!” Twilight teased, nudging her with an elbow. “Wait until I tell Rainbow Dash!”

Snorting, Spitfire nudged her back. “I’m trying to make sure our date doesn’t end with us making a mad dash for cover, you silly filly.”

“Fair enough. Then onward to Whirlwind and Maple.” Twilight flipped to the first page of the story—which bore a rather impressive illustration of a pegasus with a navy coat carrying an earth pony mare of red soft brown coat and golden mane in his hooves as he fled from the great maw of a mighty dragon.

The stallion who outflew the jaws of hell.

“Once upon a time, there was a stallion named Whirlwind,” Twilight read aloud, “one of Commander Hurricane’s most trusted soldiers, among the first to stand up and join the newly formed Guard. He served with great devotion and valor, defending the six founders from the dangers of the world while they worked to unite the tribes under the Equestrian banner. While on patrol in the castle gardens one day, Whirlwind met with a mare more beautiful than the setting sun or all the stars in the night sky—a lovely earth pony named Maple.”

Spitfire closed her eyes and concentrated on Twilight’s voice. The way she read, the inflections of her voice with every word painted the scene for her.

Whirlwind was tongue-tied, his spear held limply in hoof as he gaped in awe of a lovely mare, clothed in a dirt-stained smock completely oblivious to him. She hummed an old earth pony folk song to herself as she moved from plant to plant, watering them and cooing over them as if they were her foals.

His lips seemed dry. Running his tongue over them to wet them in hopes of speaking to this beauty, this goddess given flesh, didn’t work. His heart beat in his ears, his wings trembled. She was an earth pony, he was a pegasus. The tribes were united on paper, by the word and signature of their leaders, but some of the animosity, the suspicion remained.

Would she hold onto that feeling?

“Oh!”

He blinked, shaken from his reverie to find himself met with a pair of eyes as green as the springtime fields. Such a vibrant, lovely color…

A goddess indeed.

“G-Good day, garden tender!” he blurted, his cheeks tinged a rosy pink hue.

The mare ducked her head shyly, bowing to him. “Good day, Guardpony,” she greeted. Mercifully, there was no animosity in her voice. Only a touch of hesitance. “I hope I’m not interrupting your patrol.”

Frantically, Whirlwind shook his head. His helmet rattled around, in a way his pegasus brothers and sisters would surely laugh at. “N-No! Not at all!” he assured her. “I heard you… I heard your singing.” He shifted in place, his armor creaking with his movement. “You have a… a lovely voice.”

Her cheeks colored, she looked down at a rosebush to hide a smile. “Thank you, sir. But I’m just a gardener. My voice isn’t that impressive…”

“No, it is!” he balked. How could such a vision of loveliness not know her own power? “Truly, you possess a voice as sweet as Lady Clover’s magic is awesome!” Spurred by his own words, he placed his spear on the ground and bowed to her, splaying his wings out in the traditional pegasus salute. “Please, if you’d be so kind, I would be delighted to know your name, fair maiden.”

There was a moment’s pause. The grass beneath her hooves crunched as she pawed awkwardly, but Whirlwind dared not raise his gaze lest he discourage her.

“Maple,” she replied, her voice barely above a whisper. “My name is Maple.”

Maple. Like the trees whose scent was sweet and sap made delicious syrup. Fitting for such a mare.

Slowly, he raised his head, offering her a smile. “Thank you, fair Maple. Your name is as lovely as your voice.”

Another awkward shift, her cheeks seemed alight with fire. She glanced up at him shyly, her lips tugging into a smile. “Thank you, sir. In return, might I have your name?”

Whirlwind thrust out his chest. “My name is Whirlwind—Whirlwind of the Equestrian Guard, defender of the Castle of the Six!”

A hoof touched her shoulder, Spitfire jolted back to the present. “Huh?” She blinked and turned to Twilight, and was met with an amused tugging at her lips and mirth shining in her eyes. “What’s that?”

“You were off in the clouds,” Twilight said, giggling into a hoof. “I asked if you wanted to read the next passage.”

“Oh! Sure, hon.” She grinned and held out a hoof. “Pass it over.”

Twilight floated the book to her waiting hoof and let her magic cut out. “All right,” she said, leaning into Spitfire’s side. Much as Spitfire had done, she closed her eyes and smiled. “We were at the part about—”

Spitfire gave her a little brush with her feathers. “I know where we are, smarty hooves! Whirlwind just introduced himself, next up comes their courtship.” Clearing her throat, she made to carry on, pausing only to level Twilight with a stern glare when she kept giggling. “If you’re done?”

“Go ahead,” Twilight replied, waving her on.

Turning to give a snort into Twilight’s mane, and then quickly ducking to avoid a swipe of her hoof, she settled in and picked up where they left off. “Taken in by her beauty and gentle nature, Whirlwind began to court Maple; the six founders were rather surprised at how quickly the first official mixed courtship began, but gave their blessing. Among them, Chancellor Puddinghead, Commander Hurricane and Smart Cookie were their greatest supporters. To commemorate their relationship, Hurricane had the pegasus smiths forge a set of horseshoes deep in the heart of a thunderhead to enable Maple to walk on the clouds and stand at Whirlwind’s side. The pair were happy together, their example led the way for more and more ponies to court outside their tribes. But on one fateful day, a great dragon came down from his den on Craggy Peak Mountain, lured by the riches of the young nation.”

“Spike always hated this part,” Twilight whispered. “He’d always cross his arms and grumble that the evil dragon would’ve been stopped dead in his tracks if he’d been there to help defend the nation, and Maple could’ve been safe and Whirlwind wouldn’t have had to chase after her.”

“That so?” Spitfire said, snickering at the image of the tiny dragon that came to mind. “Well, how unfortunate that brave and noble Spike wasn’t there to protect the fair maiden, eh?”

Succumbing to another giggle fit, Twilight bobbed her head. “He doesn’t like it when evil dragons make the rest of his kind look bad.”

“Heh, well, maybe next time we have an evil dragon attack, Spike can be the good dragon who shows everypony what they’re really like.”

With a nod and a snort she turned back to the story. Her mind began to wander again as she read through. “The Dragon of Craggy Peak set upon the castle with his ravenous lust for gold. Completely caught off-guard, the unified forces of the Equestrian Guard could only scramble to protect the six founders and castle staff. But as they led the ponies to the safety of the castle’s keep, Whirlwind noticed there was one of their number missing. His lovely Maple was nowhere to be found. Taken in by her beauty much like Whirlwind, the dragon stole her away as his prize—a little pony with a voice as sweet as the birds in spring, perfect to sing him to sleep. Wrought with worry, Whirlwind took his thunder forged spear from the guard armory and gave chase, all the way to the dragon’s keep…”

The days had dragged on for the young guardpony, following along the trail of smoldering ruin the great dragon left in its wake. His heart pounded in his chest as he neared the base of the mountain, a rising up against the backdrop of an overcast sky.

To the south, he took note of a patch of wild thunderheads sat above the raging waters of the eastern sea—temperamental and violent, the lightning contained within one was more than enough to burn a pony or griffin to a crisp. A full patch of them, though…

Whirlwind shook his head, gripping his spear tighter. “Maple,” he whispered fervently. “I’m coming.”

He ascended the slopes of Craggy Peak Mountain as quietly as he could. Every crunch of gravel, every rock unsettled, every step he took made his heart leap to his throat. The steady stream of smoke coming from within the mouth of the cave above him meant the dragon was indeed home, there would be no avoiding an encounter.

Hopefully fortune would smile upon him and let the great beast be sound asleep while he made his move.

Whirlwind peeked his head into the cave entrance, his jaw dropped at the sight of the veritable sea of gold and trinkets within. How old was this dragon? How many years had he plundered the lands and neighboring kingdoms to acquire such a horde?

Maple. His thoughts returned to his beloved mare. Where was his Maple?

He crept into the cave, searching frantically for his lost love. Every which way he looked, another small mountain of treasure met his eye, the shine of gold blinding even in the depths of the cave. But no Maple!

His heart sank. If Maple wasn’t here, it could only mean one thing…

The dragon.

Whirlwind snarled, his eyes flitted to the great beast slumbering in the depths of his cave, blanketed in the golden sheen of his conquests.

How dare he…

Whirlwind unfurled his wings, snorting through his nose as he stalked toward the beast. Nothing else. This foul creature, this demon spawned from the depths of Tartarus had taken Maple from this world!

How dare he…

She was innocent! A beautiful little flower that had survived the harsh winter, the end of the War of the Three Tribes, and smiled so sweetly for him when he asked that she share her song.

How dare he…

Rage burned within him like a wildfire, consuming every bit of his being. Whirlwind moved in closer, his eyes locked on the dragon’s tightly shut eyelids—the eyes were always the weakest point on any creature, no armor or hide could stop a spear, sword, or arrow from piercing through.

Thunderforged steel would do the deed well enough. Even if the beast’s thrashing about in the throes of death managed to end him, Whirlwind would have his revenge and be with Maple once again.

He stood poised to deliver the strike, his spear hefted at the ready. “This is for Maple,” he whispered, his voice tinged with venomous fury, “you wicked creature!”

A soft gasp stayed his hoof. His ears flicked to the left. What in the world was that?

The dragon began to stir, a rumble sounded from the back of his throat. Scaled eyelids fluttered, much like a foal rousing from a deep sleep.

It was now or never! But who had started? Whirlwind searched again, peering around the dragon’s frame. Another captive? Did this creature take ponies to his cave and devour them one by one? What sort of wicked beast made its prey wait in such a manner?

There, sitting just a few paces from the dragon’s wing, was Maple. Her tear streaked cheeks were matted and eyes red-rimmed. She looked as though she hadn’t slept in days, her beautiful coat and mane were unkempt and stuck up in odd patches. And yet, to Whirlwind, she was still the most beautiful sight in all the land.

Maple gave a weak smile, her eyes teared up. As Whirlwind made to step toward her and thank the fates, she brought a hoof to her lips, then pointed to the dragon.

“Mare…” the dragon mumbled. “Sing… Sing to me again…”

“Yes, master,” Maple replied and bowed her head, the submissive gesture not matching the bright smile on her muzzle. With her lips tugging into a full grin and tears of joy streaming down her cheeks, she began to sing.

Both Whirlwind and the dragon froze—the latter letting out a contented sigh as he made himself comfortable again, drifting off with the first notes of her song. Whirlwind felt his heart soar, like he were flying with his brethren above the clouds.

She was singing for him. Not because she was bound by the dragon’s hold over her life, but for him.

Damn the beast, his mare was alive!

Whirlwind approached her, taking care to step around the dragon and avoid knocking over any of the trinkets. Her vibrant green eyes went wide, Maple made to wave him off, but he caught her hoof in his and pulled her into a kiss. “I was so worried,” he whispered as they broke.

“He’ll wake!” she hissed, her eyes darting back to her captor. “You have to go!”

“Not without you.”

A raindrop fell on the end of Spitfire’s nose. She blinked and shook her head, shifting her gaze from the text on the page to the darkened sky above.

She sniffed. The scent of ozone and fresh rain reached her nose. Squinting, Spitfire could make out the blurred outlines of her fellow pegasi flitting amongst the clouds, kicking them to spill their payloads out across the park.

“Aw, horseapples,” she cursed. Closing the book with a snap, she stuffed it into Twilight’s saddlebag. “Bad news, hon.”

Twilight followed her gaze, her shoulders slumped when she saw the rain coming. “Oh, come on!” she cried, giving an irritated flick of her tail. “We were getting to the best part, too!”

“Well, looks like the Canterlot Weather Team schedule isn’t gonna let us do that out here!” Spitfire jumped to her hooves and nosed her way between Twilight’s jaw and her shoulder, nudging her up. “Come on, on your hooves! Not having my date go home soaked to the bone if I can help it.”

She coaxed a rather put out Twilight to her hooves and picked up the saddlebags in her mouth. With a toss of her head, she flipped them over her back. “All right, we’ve got all the books in here, so let’s get back quick. Mind giving us a quick teleport, hon?”

Expecting an immediate yes, Spitfire stepped closer to Twilight’s side and took a deep breath, closing her eyes to help prevent the dizziness that came with sudden change in location.

But Twilight hesitated before giving her answer. “No,” she said.

Spitfire’s eyes shot open, she turned to stare at Twilight. “Er, hon, your books are gonna get soaked if we don’t get back, not to mention you.”

“Let me deal with that.” Twilight smiled, an odd gleam shined in her eyes. “I’ve had a wonderful time with you today; flying together, sitting and chatting at Contorno’s, and walking through the park before we stopped and read together.” She leaned in to plant a soft kiss on Spitfire’s cheek, her lips lingering a moment before she pulled away. “I’d rather spend more time together than cut things short with a teleport because we ran into some rain,” she whispered, nuzzling against Spitfire.

A warmth filled her chest. Spitfire leaned into her touch, allowing herself a little rustle of her wing. “I can’t argue with that,” she murmured.

Still, letting Twilight get wet was out of the question. Both because she wanted this date to end well and she’d look like a complete jerk if she let a princess get soaked.

At very least, she could offer something. And it’d be a nice little gesture from her culture, too.

Spitfire unfurled her left wing and offered it to Twilight. “Here,” she said, “stand under my wing, hon. No reason both of us have to get wet.”

The gesture earned a hum of approval and another kiss on the cheek. “You’re sweet. But I disagree.” She lit up her horn, smiling as she stepped close enough to press her side against Spitfire’s. “I don’t think there’s any room for either of us to get wet.” She raised her eyebrows, glancing up to survey something.

Curious, Spitfire followed her gaze, a smile tugged at the corners of her mouth when she noticed the shimmering magenta bubble surrounding the pair.

A shield charm. And, by the looks of it, Twilight had put it up just in the nick of time as the pegasi kicked the rainclouds above them, dumping raindrops over the rest of the park.

She returned her gaze to Twilight again and captured her lips in a kiss. They stayed together, the shield keeping them dry long enough for Spitfire to savor their shared warmth, the soft touch of Twilight’s lips against hers.

A warm, wet tongue ran along her lips. Spitfire laughed into the kiss and broke it. “Now, now,” she mock scolded, her smile ruining the effect. “We talked about that, hon. That’s code red.”

Twilight simply grinned and stole a kiss to the end of her snout. “After a careful review of literature,” she began, speaking with an air of regality, “and assurances offered by the Princess of Love, Mi Amore Cadenza, I have come to the conclusion that Prench kissing is initiated when two ponies’ tongues interact within the confines of their mouths—licking your lips is the prelude, not the action.” Cheekily, she bumped her hip against Spitfire. “Unless you can’t handle the heat, Captain Spitfire.”

Laughing, Spitfire returned the bump. Got me back for breakfast after all. “I’ll give you that one, hon. But let’s keep the rest of our little game under wraps until later, okay? I wanna enjoy walking and talking, making you squirm can wait.”

The pair shared grins and another kiss before making their way out of the park and into the emptied streets of Canterlot. Just two mares, a little rain to cool the air and keep them close, and a nice walk.

Who could ask for a better end to a date?

Comments

[Dlaf rferg]

yaes

[Spamotron]

“See if there’s a foundation for a romantic relationship, explore it if there’s something. If not, we can be friends—who just so happen to have been together in a way that most friends haven’t.”

There's always "friends with benefits," Twilight

[livinthelife]

Yeah, I'm not sure they'll be able to keep out of each other's metaphorical pants for long. (Now I want a pair of metaphorical pants,)

[Ulrezaj]

7995869
I know right? I bet they're snazzy...

[OneAmongOthers]

7995869 Honestly that just shows a good bond between these two when you are so comfortable touching one another. I feel a healthy sex life is the best thing to have along side a healthy relationship. I feel Spitfire and Twilight will bond well together. Though a nagging question... I see you are portraying Spitfire as being older than Twilight, but what do you see the age of these two being? It just keeps nagging me every time I see age being mentioned.

[Mister Morden]

I liked the story, I do want to see how it ends... But that will have to wait it seems!

These two are amusing together. They play off each other rather well!

[DJ Pro-V]

This is fun. Good job.

[QueenMoriarty]

Twilight lead her on a merry dance

led

[Silver Blade]

And it’s always nice to take the scenic route. The view is quite lovely.