Moments of Calm

by The Iguana Man

A Gentle Moment

“...till by the end I could barely read the damn forms, let alone fill 'em in right. It's just lucky I could navigate my way here blindfold – if those stupid things had got me lost and meant I had to miss this evening...”

“I'd hate it if that were to happen, but they didn't,” Fluttershy assured her, “and they can't, so you never have to worry about that.”

Spitfire hummed and nodded, letting out a short breath. She opened her mouth, taking in a breath to continue before pausing, nothing coming out. She searched for something else to say, but even before she finished and found nothing, she was already beginning to slump a little and take deep, clear breaths, aware that her frustrations had run dry.

Fluttershy smiled hopefully. “Is that everything?”

Spitfire thought for a few moments as the tension in the body bled out of her. “Yeah... yeah, I think that about covers it all.” She looked up at Fluttershy, who just gave her an encouraging nod.

Sighing in relief, Spitfire finally stepped into the cottage proper, feeling as if she was leaving Captain Spitfire of the Wonderbolts at the door – now, she was just Spitfire meeting her marefriend. This time, Flutttershy didn't stop her. Instead, she just stepped forward and opened her forehooves wide, allowing Spitfire to half-walk, half-fall into a hug.

“Do you feel better?” Fluttershy asked as she drew Spitfire in closer, her slightly straighter posture allowing her to lower Spitfire's head down into her chest.

Spitfire nodded, her fiery hair gently brushing against Fluttershy's chin, drawing a little laugh. After a moment, Spitfire gave a small chuckle herself. “I don't know why you ask, you know I always feel better. Tired, but better.”

With her head against her chest, Spitfire felt Fluttershy's giggle as much as she heard it. “Well, I guess I don't really need to ask. I just like hearing it.”

Spitfire smiled as the two stood there, motionless. Soon after they'd started dating, Fluttershy had told her she'd wanted to offer a hug during that first meeting, but it felt like it'd be too awkward. Fortunately, Spitfire agreed and was, in fact, immensely grateful she hadn't offered since, at the time, she'd have refused. Which in turn would mean, as soon as she found out what they were like, she'd hate herself forever for having missed a Fluttershy hug.

After a little while, Fluttershy spoke up. “So, do you want to go upstairs straight away, or would you like me to make us some tea?”

Spitfire thought for a moment before nodding into Fluttershy's chest. “I think I could go for some tea, if that's okay.”

“Okay,” Fluttershy pulled away gently and Spitfire just about managed to contain a disappointed mewl. “Please sit down, I'll be right out with that.”

As Fluttershy made her way to the kitchen, Spitfire walked over to the worn sofa and took a seat, taking a moment to appreciate the surroundings. It was odd – her office was always completely silent, largely plain and generally free from distractions, whereas Fluttershy's cottage, even in winter, was always full of some amount of animals scurrying around, playing or working. And yet, it was absolutely no contest which one felt calmer. After giving it some thought, Spitfire realised that while her office was silent, it was a tense kind of silence, like the moment of calm before the first thunderbolt strikes, while the cottage felt more like the time after the storm ends.

Soon enough, Fluttershy came floating back in, a tray in her hooves carrying two mugs and a few shortbread biscuits. As she hovered in, Spitfire couldn't help but be impressed how she flew smoothly enough to not even come close to spilling anything. As a professional flight trainer, Spitfire knew just what a task that was and how amazing it was for such grace to come naturally.

Fluttershy soon lowered herself down and put the tray on the small table in front of the couch. That done, she picked up her own mug and settled down herself, leaning back and snuggling her head into the crook of Spitfire's neck.

Spitfire smiled as she picked up her own mug and put a wing around her marefriend, happy that they were close enough in height to be able to switch out who was, for lack of a better word, 'dominant' in a hug any time they liked.

After a gentle sip, Spitfire spoke up. “So, how's your day been? Or, last few days, I guess.”

Fluttershy shrugged. “Oh, well, like I said, it'd been quiet mostly. Just keeping all my little friends fed and warm. Oh, although I did find Sir Quackington just the other day – the poor little guy had broken his wing and wasn't able to migrate with the other birds, so I'm taking care of him until he's all healed up.”

Spitfire smiled as she stroked Fluttershy's back with a hoof. “Do you think he'll be okay?”

“Oh, yes, it's just a small fracture, it shouldn't take long to heal. We'll just have to see if he'll be up to flying south on his own once it's all better. Without the rest of his skein to fly with, I might have to take him myself.”

“Hmm,” Spitfire squeezed Fluttershy a little tighter with her wing, a little unnerved at having her leave for so long. “If you're sure. I just wish...” she trailed off for a moment.

“I wish you could come with, too,” Fluttershy assured her, “but, well, 'Beach Comber' doesn't really much of a backstory, so we probably shouldn't use her more than we have to. Besides, you're already busy enough without having to drop everything to help me. I'll be okay, Spitfire, I promise.”

Spitfire nodded before speaking, hoping to change the subject. “Speaking of names, Shy, I was wondering... I mean, don't get me wrong, I like hearing you say my name... never thought “Spitfire” could sound delicate, but you make it work... but I was thinking it's still a bit of a mouthful. Do you ever want to shorten it a little?”

“Not really,” Fluttershy said, shrugging slightly against Spitfire's chest. “I mean, 'Spit' just sounds rude and 'Fire'... well, it just doesn't feel... complete. Like it's missing something of who you are. Besides, I'm, um... I'm not very good at coming up with names.”

Spitfire chuckled. “Says the mare who can name every animal larger than a baby mouse within five miles of here.”

“That's different,” Fluttershy insisted, even as she began to blush a little, “I don't usually come up with their names, I just translate them into something a pony can say.”

Spitfire raised an eyebrow, knowing that Fluttershy couldn't see it but still feeling the need to, and wondered exactly what 'Sir Quackington' translated to. For that matter, most people would probably assume that 'Angel' was not a name the little hellion would come up with himself. On the other hoof, Spitfire was a bit more educated and knew that while some angels had the stereotypical robes-and-harp image, others were terrifying, twisted amalgamations of wings, eyeballs and fire straight out of an eldritch horror novel. As such, that translation made perfect sense to her.

Still, she didn't say anything about that, just continuing to stroke Fluttershy gently. “Well, if you do ever come up with another name, don't worry about using it. I mean, it's not exactly shorter, but Little Miss Volcano might be kinda appropriate.”

Fluttershy shook her head. “Oh, I don't think that's fair.” One of her hooves raised up and started stroking the wing Spitfire had around her, drawing a hum from her marefriend. “We all have things we try to keep bottled up sometimes. If anything, you're just good at letting it out so it's not hurtful. Or, well,” her expression suggested that she thought about Spitfire's toughness with her subordinates around the same time Spitfire herself did, “at least so that it's constructive.”

“If you say so,” Spitfire said, doubtful but not willing to push the matter. “Well, if I am, it's only because I've got you to keep me from losing my mind.

“Well, I do say so!” Fluttershy said with an adorably faux-serious tone before giggling. “Um, to the first thing, the thing I said, not the other thing. Though...” she paused and Spitfire recognized the face she made when she was trying to figure out exactly how to say something so as not to either cause offence or get across her point unclearly, “well, please don't misunderstand, I'm always happy to listen to you and help you deal with all your stress and, um, I do think what we have definitely does that fine, but... well, before we met, before we started the... the whole thing... did you ever think about seeing a therapist?”

Spitfire let out a single, humming chuckle. “Yeah, that’d be the obvious answer, huh? Have to be a real bonehead not to think of that and just keep letting the stress eat away at your soul, wouldn'cha? So, anyway, I didn't think of that.” She couldn't help but smile as Fluttershy gave a disapproving look and a gentle shove at her self-deprecation. “Okay, being serious, it wasn't out of stupidity or even stubbornness. It's just... I really didn't think too much about the stress, to be honest. Or, at least, I didn't think of it in terms of whether or not I should have it or deal with it, just in terms of what was causing it. It's like... have you ever gotten so caught up... so used to... so into a way of doing things that it never even occurs to you there could be another way? Or so used to not feeling something that... well, you don't forget what it's like, but you just stop noticing it's gone and start mistaking other feelings for it?”

Fluttershy didn't answer, instead just putting her hooves on Spitfire's wing and holding it tightly and securely.

Spitfire nodded. “Yeah, it was... it wasn't till I really started getting to know you that, well...

Comments

[Bicyclette]

Which in turn would mean, as soon as she found out what they were like, she'd hate herself forever for having missed a Fluttershy hug.

augh, i would hate myself if i missed one of those, too! preview.redd.it/pml6a3zm3iw81.jpg?width=960&crop=smart&auto=webp&s=4702f67de5b045299f3b2143e9c25e48223a50cf

“I mean, 'Spit' just sounds rude and 'Fire'... well, it just doesn't feel... complete. Like it's missing something of who you are. Besides, I'm, um... I'm not very good at coming up with names.”

yeah, Spitfire is a hard mare to nickname

“That's different,” Fluttershy insisted, even as she began to blush a little, “I don't usually come up with their names, I just translate them into something a pony can say.”

oh, so that explains it!

[Vaguely Demented]

Always fascinating to read descriptions of some of the older takes on the creatures of heaven. Really make one wonder how the cherubic images we see so frequently took over the consciousness.