Moments of Calm

by The Iguana Man

An Awkward Meeting

Spitfire trudged slowly through the halls of Wonderbolts HQ, the steady, rasping growl emanating from her throat the only indication of the smouldering rage inside her. Her hoofsteps were steady – rather overly so, in fact, due to how hard she was having to concentrate on not stamping on the ground with every pace as if she were trying to break through to the floor below.

Not that she didn't think she had every reason to be pissed. The latest intake to the academy had resulted in what had been termed a Lightning Dust situation – a cadet clearly showing a willingness, if not eagerness, to cause problems for other flyers or even put them in danger just to get ahead and make themselves look good. After the incident that gave this scenario its name, Spitfire had sworn not to make the same mistake again. As such, when one cadet had ploughed through three pegasi, nearly sending one crashing into a wall, without even looking back, she made it very clear to the reckless idiot in question that that sort of callous disregard would not be tolerated. The Wonderbolts were a team and it didn't matter how good a flyer was on their own, if they couldn't work with others, they had no place in the academy.

As it turned out, the showboat in question hadn't exactly taken it well and started a huge brawl in the locker room after training was over. Not only that, but when Spitfire and the security ponies came in to break it up, he was so proud to be the only one without a significant injury that would put them out of action for a few days that he couldn't seem to understand why he wasn't being congratulated.

Now, Spitfire stood by what she'd said to the stallion after the initial confrontation and did not for a moment think she was responsible for the incident, but that didn't change how much of a headache it was going to be to deal with. And to top it all off, she didn't even get to throw the despicable egomaniac out herself, as she was going to need all the time she could get in order to deal with the aftermath. She would just have to content herself with remembering the angry mumblings she'd heard from him as he'd been dragged away – something about washouts, which Spitfire totally agreed was an appropriate term.

So, yes, Spitfire was in an extremely bad mood. However, this wasn't anything close to the first time this had happened and she'd gotten extremely used to functioning while furious. As such, when she turned the corner and found herself going towards a head-on collision with another mare, her reflexes were quick enough that she could dart out of the way, only allowing a few of the uppermost pages of the forms she was carrying to fly out of her hooves.

The other mare, on the other hand, was having a much harder time of it even after there was no longer a danger, scrabbling her hooves underneath her to try and keep steady and raising her wings sharply to prevent the box on her back from falling. After a moment, though, she got herself to a relatively stable position.

However, as she began speaking, it seemed as if all of the shakiness had simply transferred to her voice. “Oh my... Oh, I'm so, so sorry, I didn't see... Oh my goodness, these papers are all...” she put the box down and dived down to collect the few loose pages before Spitfire could even truly react. “I'm sorry, I wasn't looking where I was goin- well, I was looking where I was going but I was focused on where I'd go to next and not where I was going to now and I should have... I got lost and I was going to ask someone where the bedrooms are but I didn't want to bother them and I just...”

“Woah, woah! Calm down,” Spitfire said quickly, her anger momentarily lost amidst the torrent of apologies. “It's alright, no harm done.” She leaned down and picked up all the papers the mare had missed... which, given how flustered she was, had been most of them. “Ponies get lost here all the time. The be-” She stopped suddenly, thinking over what the mare had said. “The bedrooms? You mean the barracks, right?”

“Oh! Is that what they're called? I'm sorry, I didn't know, I-”

Spitfire held up a hoof to stop another round of desperate contrition while her other hoof rubbed at her forehead. Terrific, she thought, to top it all off, we've got a civilian wandering around unaccompanied. Still, she shook her head quickly, reminding herself that she wasn't angry at the mare in front of her. “It's okay, Miss, if you didn't know, you didn't know. Anyway, what are y-” she stopped herself again, wary of making any question sound too accusatory considering this pony's obvious nerves. “Er, what's the purpose of your visit, Miss...”

“Oh... oh, well, I'm...” The mare looked away, seeming to try and hide behind her mane as her voice lowered to inaudibility.

Spitfire sighed in her head, even as she put on an indulgent beam for the mare. “Hey, it's alright. I don't bite, I promise.” Her mouth quirked up a little as she remembered how several rumours among the trainees said otherwise.

Admittedly, while she had technically denied the rumour, perhaps telling the cadets that she wouldn't eat them solely because ponies so pathetic would barely be a snack... hadn't helped as much as it could.

The mare nodded, seeming to take a moment to gather her nerve before speaking. “My name's Fluttershy. And, um,” she continued, not seeming to notice Spitfire's brow furrowing, the name sounding familiar, “I'm a friend of Rainbow Dash and, well, when she came here yesterday for the training period, she forgot something and asked if I could bring it over as soon as possible since it's kind of personal and a little bit urgent so I couldn't really post it, so...”

“Okay, understood,” Spitfire said once it seemed the explanation was finished and that Fluttershy was simply continuing because it felt too awkward to stop. The mention of Rainbow Dash had twigged her memory about the times she'd heard her talk about her friends. Still, a moment's thought prevented her from acknowledging it out loud as, while it was awkward, there was something that needed to be established first. “Listen, I'm sorry to have to ask you this, I promise it's not because of anything you've said, but... well, this is technically a secure building – do you have any ID or something to back up your story? Aside from whatever's in the box, I mean,” she quickly added, wary of opening any box that she didn't know the contents of.

“Oh! Oh, yes, I have the letter she sent me,” Fluttershy nodded, quickly pulling out a rough note and giving it to her.

Spitfire scanned over the letter quickly. The hoofwriting was distinctly messy, but that was by no means a rare phenomenon in the academy – it had taken a long time for Spitfire's writing to get to a point where she could read it consistently. What was distinctive enough to verify Fluttershy's story was the signature – a massive exhibit of a name at least twice the size of any of the rest of the writing and where the last letter trailed off it a looping series of underlinings – five rows of decreasing size. This was the signature of somepony who wanted you to know exactly who was signing it. Spitfire had thought about bringing up how much of a pain that signature would be during long autograph signing sessions, but was wary of feeding Dash's ego any more than necessary.

Her eyes briefly flicked over the rest of the letter, noting how the section that said what the item to be delivered was had been torn carefully out, before handing it back. “Okay, looks good. But... well, I'm guessing you showed that to the guards out front?” Fluttershy nodded, prompting Spitfire to continue. “So, why didn't they call for an escort? As you probably noticed, this place can be a bit confusing if you're not used to it.” Also, a civilian wandering around without an escort was always risky, but Spitfire didn't feel it necessary to point that out.

Fluttershy swallowed nervously. “Oh, they did, but... well, we heard a big noise that kind of sounded like a fight and he said he had to go check it out and pointed me to where I needed to go but I kind of panicked and hid and couldn't tell where I was or I'd been or was supposed to go and...”

“Oh, of course that stupid scuffle was going to screw with you too!” Spitfire growled, her tail flicking violently as she felt her headache reassert itself. “Well, if it helps, the moron who started it's been tossed out,” she tried to give the mare a smirk, though she got the feeling it wasn't the most encouraging considering how hard she was wishing that said tossing out could have been done by trebuchet. “So, what's in the box?”

Fluttershy opened her mouth before Spitfire held up a hoof to cut her off. “Actually, forget I asked – I've got enough troubles with my fliers on duty, I do not need to get caught up in what they do on their own time. Long as it's not a bomb, a bio attack or a blight spell, I'm about half past caring.”

She turned to leave, beginning to look down to sort out the papers in her hooves, when she heard a small, quiet but strangely insistent question:

“Are you okay?”

Spitfire was caught off-guard for a fraction of a second before her instincts kicked in and she turned her head to give Fluttershy the smirk that always satisfied the cameras and newspapers. “I'm fine. Dash's barracks are just down this hall – follow it to the end, take a left and it's the third on your right.”

“Oh, um, thank you, but... well,” Fluttershy shuffled her hooves for a moment before giving a beseeching look to Spitfire, “are you sure you're okay?”

Spitfire sighed, turning to walk away a little forcefully, if only to avoid getting caught up in that soulful stare. “I said I'm fine, didn't I?” she asked, feeling the veins on her forehead throb.

“Well, yes, you did, but, um,” Fluttershy replied, making Spitfire's first step away stop mid-stride, “well, I hope I'm not imagining things or seeing things I shouldn't but, well, you seem kind of... upset.”

Spitfire stood there for a moment, lowering her hoof to the ground as she blinked. Within her mind, something... went away. It wouldn't be accurate to say something 'snapped', as it was neither sudden nor violent. But something, something she couldn't quite put a hoof on, something holding something back just... wasn't there any more. Slowly, calmly, she took a deep breath before...

“Upset?” she began quietly. “Just what it all of TARTARUS do I have to be upset about?!” she stomped on the ground as her sudden tirade picked up speed. “I mean, sure, some egocentric pile of cowpies decided to start a brawl and knock half my trainees right into the infirmary, so I've gotta figure out how shift the schedules for the next week and how to keep things open to take however long it takes them to get flying again without just losing the whole batch of them and fit all that around the stuff with all the other main and reserve bolts, plus fill out a bunch of incident reports – along with reports about why the guards are out a few bruises, my cadets are out a few days and the dolt's out on his rump, cause it's not like all those are totally redundant or anything – but why should I mind any of that? I mean, that is what they put on the posters, isn't it? 'Be a Wonderbolt and you can deal with more bullcrap than a farm fed on prunes! With a lot of work, you can become captain and spend more time filling in forms than flying!' That's every pegasus's dream and totally not a wide-awake nightmare that'll make you wanna SCREAM!”

For a moment, Spitfire just stood there, her breathing heavy and ragged as she let her thoughts slow back down.

Then her eyes widened as what she'd just done occurred to her, the realisation crashing down on her in one, giant, sickening wave. Captain Spitfire of the Wonderbolts, the face of the team, the mare who needed at all times to embody the dignity, discipline and brilliance that defined the exemplars and role models to most of the pegasi in Equestria... had just thrown a temper tantrum in front of an innocent mare. She'd ranted at a civilian whose only connection to the 'Bolts was through a friend... a friend who Spitfire was just remembering certain conversations with... conversations that were where she'd heard the name Fluttershy... and were about how timid, nervous and easily spooked her friend was. Couldn't have remembered that a few minutes earlier, could you, Spit-For-Brains?! she sneered at herself in her head.

After a moment, though, she shook off the self-recrimination – there'd be time for that later. Right now, she needed to figure out some way of doing damage control. She turned around, opening her mouth in the hopes that she'd figure out something to say when she was done... only to be rendered dumbstruck by what she saw.

All of the fear, disgust or hurt she was expecting was nowhere to be seen. There was no curling into a ball or spreading her wings in an instinctive, flight or definitely-flight response. Instead, Fluttershy was just looking at her, her mouth hanging open in astonishment and her hoof hovering just in front of it. Her eyes were wide and a slight glistening suggested that while she wasn't on the verge of tears, she was definitely in the general area of them, but her huge pupils and the gaze that was focused entirely on Spitfire made it clear it wasn't herself she was sad for. After a moment, a tiny whisper slipped out of her mouth.

“Oh... oh, you poor mare...”

In almost any other context, Spitfire could imagine, that phrase would have sounded pitying, even patronising, but... the sheer, unmistakable sincerity and sympathy on Fluttershy's face made such a thing seem just impossible.

Nothing more was said for a moment, as Fluttershy just stood silent and Spitfire was still digesting what she was seeing, too dumbfounded to even move. But even without words, Spitfire somehow knew what was happening between them.

Fluttershy had listened to her, listened to her whining like a petulant filly... and she had truly, impossibly... understood. She understood what she was feeling, what she was going through, and, despite the fact that they'd only just met and the only way Fluttershy could have known Spitfire was as an icon and celebrity... she cared.

For a couple of seconds, Spitfire just let that sink in, totally unused to being caught off-guard like this, before she felt her mouth moving automatically. “I'm sorry, I...” she trailed off as she saw Fluttershy gently shake her head.

“Why? You don't have anything to be sorry for.” Fluttershy assured her.

For the first time in a while, Spitfire's face moved as she tilted her head and felt an expression of confused contrition assert itself. “Really? I mean, I really don't think I should just be unloading all my problems onto a complete stranger like this?”

Fluttershy thought for a moment. “Well, do you have anyone you can unload some of them on or... at least relieve some of them with?”

Spitfire was silent, knowing that that silence would answer the question, but unable to think of a better answer.

Fluttershy nodded. “I... I know there's not much I can do to help... I wish there was, you... you really should have some more help, but... well, if it would help for me to listen... If that'd make you feel better, then that's what I'm going to do. Do you feel better?”

Spitfire furrowed her brow as she thought, finding that... “Huh. Yeah... a little bit. How... how did you do that?” she asked, aware how silly the question sounded but unable to keep herself from asking.

Fluttershy shrugged. “I just listened.”

There was a short pause as Spitfire tried to both understand what had just happened and get her thoughts back in order from the jumbled clutter they'd been thrown into.

After a moment, Fluttershy cleared her throat awkwardly. “So, you said third on the right?”

“Hm? Oh, yeah, yeah, Dash should be there right now,” Spitfire nodded, finally feeling like she was back in a coherent headspace. She watched as Fluttershy nodded and mumbled her thanks before turning to head towards the barracks.

“Hey, Fluttershy?”

Spitfire felt as surprised as Fluttershy was by her call and, as the little pegasus's head turned in response to her name, Spitfire continued, not really sure what she was going to say but not feeling able or willing to stop herself.

“Listen, I'm gonna be busy the rest of the day and I'm sure you've got a whole lotta stuff to do, but... well, if you're ever back in the area, maybe you could drop by my office? I'll tell the guards to let you in, we can have tea, coffee or booze, your choice, and maybe I can find some way to make things up to you? You know, for bothering you with my problems like that.”

Fluttershy's eyes widened slightly and her tail began swishing nervously, her quivering throat making clear just how nervous she was at the sudden invitation of a mare who, despite that moment of rapport, was still very much a stranger. After a second, though, her body settled down and she nodded. “I think I'd like that. I'll, um... I'll see you then.”

And, with a wave, Fluttershy walked away, turning a corner and going out of sight. A brief, bewildered laugh shot out of Spitfire's mouth before she too turned and made her way through the corridor, heading towards her office.

At some point in the journey, she started flying instead of walking. She wasn't sure when that had happened, but she didn't feel like landing.

Comments

[Bicyclette]

The other mare, on the other hand, was having a much harder time of it even after there was no longer a danger, scrabbling her hooves underneath her to try and keep steady and raising her wings sharply to prevent the box on her back from falling. After a moment, though, she got herself to a relatively stable position.

meet-cute!

Spitfire had thought about bringing up how much of a pain that signature would be during long autograph signing sessions, but was wary of feeding Dash's ego any more than necessary.

hehehe, this is a very fitting Dash signature

“Oh... oh, you poor mare...”

In almost any other context, Spitfire could imagine, that phrase would have sounded pitying, even patronising, but... the sheer, unmistakable sincerity and sympathy on Fluttershy's face made such a thing seem just impossible.

i did instantly think of how Fluttershy would approach an upset predator, haha. fitting!