> A Cloudsdale Connection
>  by PseudoBob Delightus
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

> Chapter 1
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

It was sunset. The cold cirroturf was lit orange from below, and sparse snowflakes glistened in the breeze. Two dozen ponies stood at attention in flight suits. In front of them was Sergeant Aero Ace, though he stood at attention as well, for they were all in the presence of Spitfire. 

And, pacing along the assembled lines, that she did. "This ain't flight school anymore, fillies. This is the real deal. You'll each face high winds and cyclones; rain, snow, and hail; cold to freeze your feathers off, and lightning to get what's left; and all that at night. Not just a night - the night."

The mare surveyed the team, past Angel Wings, past Snowflake, and caught a glance from Vapor Trail, who quickly set her eyes forward, hoping it wasn't noticed. Spitfire just smirked, and planned a slow, deliberate route between the assembled bodies.

"I know what you're thinking. It's difficult. It's dangerous." She closed her eyes and nodded, for effect. "It is! But, Sergeant," - the Sergeant's ears twitched - "would you mind telling these fine ponies how many injuries the Cloudsdale weather team has received on the big night in the last, say, ten years?"

Sergeant Aero thought for a moment. "What, you mean work stopping injuries, or," - but he was cut short by a withering gaze hanging over a pair of aviators. "Zero, sir!"

Spitfire pushed her sunglasses back up. "Zero. That's right." She marched over, and finally stopped in front of Vapor Trail, who tried not to flinch or cower in the Captain's presence. "Well, I think we're going to make that eleven years. What do you think, ponies?"

Vapor Trail managed to croak out a "Yes, sir!" on time with the rest of the weather team, and for just an instant, she thought she saw Spitfire smiling.

The instant was over as soon as she continued, turning around and heading back down the line. "You're damn right we are. Make 'em-"

Spitfire did a double-take at Snowflake, cocking her head to the side as she examined the saddlebags he wore. "Private. That's not a cargo harness."

Snowflake seemed to barely resist the urge to examine himself. "Yes, sir?" he replied.

Grumbling, Spitfire quickly headed back to the Sergeant and began dragging him away to complaints of safety hazards and such. He managed to let out a quick "at ease!", before the team was condemned to an evening of standing in place.

Vapor Trail let out a sigh along with the rest of the team, and turned to Angel Wings and Snowflake. The former groaned, "Geez, she still treats us like we're in flight school!"

"Some of us are still in flight school," Vapor reminded her. "We can't all screw the Dean."

"Can't we?" Angel snickered.

Meanwhile, Snowflake just looked at himself and went, "What's wrong with my bags?"

"They're not cool enough," Angel suggested. "You should get some flames sewn in. She'd like that."

Vapor Trail laughed, hoping Spitfire's hearing wasn't as good as her shouting.







It was sunset. A cascade of light and shadow split the towering skies. Looking out he thought, if he squinted, that he could see the practice fields - but it was miles away, and he was no griffin. 

The sets for the big night were going up. Sky Stinger would have liked to form some of the pieces, but he was the best flyer on hoof, so it was his job to fetch material. Not that there was any lack, of course, but the best stuff was in the columns of verticals, so he had to fly all the way out of the city to a healthy calvus, and bring hunks of it all the way back. Why couldn't they just use factory fluff? He hadn't heard a good answer.

On nights like these, when he caught a moment, he liked to sneak onto a ledge under the amphitheater and watch the stars appear - until some jerk's tower block drifted in. Tonight, things were clear.

Until a head poked out from under the cloudwall. "Hey, wad."

Sky Stinger nodded. "Hey, dick."

His boss floated down and sat himself on Sky Stinger's ledge, then held his hoof out, expecting something. Sky Stinger sighed and tapped out another dart, lit it off his own, and hoofed it over.

Halflight could only take one draw before he doubled over and coughed through his teeth. "Celestia fuck! How do you still smoke this stuff?"

Sky Stinger shrugged. "Hay, at least it's not peppermint."

"And it's cold enough already." Halflight took another draw. "Feels like I'm breathing ice."

Sky Stinger shrugged again. "So, what's the deal upwards?"

His boss growled. "Don't even ask. Those preppy colts are actin' like," - but he stopped himself. "Hm. It ain't in good spirits to complain right now."

For a while, they both puffed and watched the stars turn.

"So, you get your marefriend a good present?"

"We're friends," Sky Stinger reminded him - firmly.

"Yeah, well, I'm your friend, but you don't get me presents."

Sky Stinger looked back at Halflight, at his stupid, smiling face, and sighed. "... Sorry. It's been tough, with school, and training, and-"

"And livin' full time with your marefriend!" Halflight laughed.

When the laughing died down, he explained, "-It's her family, dick. I've mentioned it. And we hardly even see each other."

"Yeah, well, you need some time off alone with your friend, you ask me - 'kay, wad?"

Sky Stinger shook his head, and took another deep draw of spearmint. When he exhaled, he wondered, with a smile he couldn't quite get rid of, "Why do I tell you anything…?"
> Chapter 2
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

It was midnight. Sky Stinger was stoking the furnace for the night when he felt a gust, and heard a ruffle and a deep sigh. "Hey, Vape," he said, watching for the flame to catch.

"Hey," she mumbled, then quietly plodded across the apartment and into her room so she could peel off her flight suit.

Sky Stinger stared at the fire for a moment longer, then snuck into his own room, across the hall from hers, and retrieved the present from under his bed. 





Vapor Trail held her present in her hooves, pressed an ear up to her door, and waited. Sometimes she wished Sky Stinger's walls were thinner, and made of something less sound-absorbent than cloud. But still, there was a bit of commotion, the shutting of a door, and then silence.

He'd be out like a light, so she only waited a few minutes before cracking open her own door, lifting it subtly so it wouldn't make any noise, and stepping out.





When they turned around from their doors, they nearly ran into each other head-first. 

"Oh," they both said.

Vapor Trail swallowed, and explained first. "I was just going to leave this in your room."

Sky Stinger nodded. "Yeah."

"I-I have weather duty tomorrow, so, I don't think…"

"No, yeah. I have to help with the play, so, we're both out."

"Right."

They both looked at each other's gift, then back at their own. Each was a box of about the same size, wrapped in the same paper - the one kind they had - though Vapor Trail's was wrapped more tightly with cleaner folds, while Sky Stinger's had a little bow of ribbon around it.

Without saying another word, Sky Stinger hoofed his over to Vapor Trail, and she hoofed hers over to him, and they sat down on the hallway floor and started opening them.

"Wouldn't it be funny if-"

"-If it was the same thing?"

"Yeah."

But when Sky Stinger opened his gift, he worried. This was a CF-6 Series kinetic goggle, able to protect his eyes while keeping the visor free of ice and fog, all powered by the wearer's own movement - exactly what he wanted. "Wow, Vapor… This is…"

She was watching his reaction, her gift sitting half-opened in her lap. "Is it the right size?"

He put it on to show her: "No, it's one-size, see?" But his bug-like appearance while wearing it made her giggle. He smiled, and took it off, placing it gently back in the box. "It's great, I-" Don't say too much. "It's perfect."

"I'm glad you like it," she said, in that gentle voice that always made him feel funny, as she resumed opening her present - revealing a gray cylinder with a subtle checkerboard pattern, which she held quizzically. "It's a-" The top came off, revealing a necked screw-cap. "-A thermos?"

"Yeah!"

She unscrewed the cap, and peered inside, then frowned. "Aw, it's empty!"

He held his smile behind a hoof. "I-I'm sorry. But yeah, it's got some runic thingamajiggy in it that keeps it the same temperature for, like, days. I figured-"

"For weather work!"

"Exactly."

She beamed, at first, then her expression sank a little. "I think- I mean, it's great."

This is what he was worried about. He tried not to sound too worried. "Hm?"

She sighed. "They're kinda cracking down on what equipment we can bring on weather missions. Especially for Hearth's Warming. This might be…"

"What?"

"... Too big." She smiled sheepishly.

He replied, too quickly, "You can return it if you want."

"No! No, it's good. I like it."

"It's no issue if-"

"I can still use it."

"-There are smaller ones, I think-"

"It's good." Vapor Trail leaned forward to put a hoof on Skystinger's shoulder. Their faces were close. He tried not to notice. "It's a good gift. I'm keeping it."

"O-okay."

"Thank you."

"... Welcome."

With that, she let go of his shoulder, and stood up. "Happy Hearth's Warming, Sting."

He stood up, and nodded. "Happy Hearth's Warming, Vape."

And with that, they went back to their rooms.





It was past midnight. Cold arches and pillars drifted beyond the window, and a gray cylinder neither provided nor stole any warmth.

Vapor Trail laid awake hoping she didn't seem ungrateful to Sky Stinger.





It was past midnight. Moonlight poured in from the window, glinting off a pair of goggles.

Sky Stinger laid awake wondering how he would make it up to Vapor Trail.
> Chapter 3
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

It was morning. The apartment was quiet and empty, but a dripping coffee pot sat upside down in the sink. There was a napkin on the counter, under a new thermos, with scribbles Sky Stinger was just barely able to read:





left you some coffee 

see you after the play =]





He unscrewed the cap and breathed deep. Bitter - her morning scent.

Arriving at the amphitheater, when he tried to take the first sip of ink-black coffee, he found that it was still scalding hot, so he let it sit with the cap open for a while just to be drinkable. While he waited, listening to the flutter of wings and banners, the clamour of set construction, the din of last-minute musters and recitals, and the bark of names that included one suspiciously similar to his own, he watched the movements of the city. 

Beyond the arches and pillars, beyond the fields of cirroturf and the sailing apartment blocks, a black vertical towered from the mountains to the moon and turned with ancient speed. It was the shape of an anvil, and lashed with flossy lightning about its middle.

Just before Halflight found him, he whispered into the wind, "Make 'em proud."





It was afternoon. The wind was picking up, blasting the trees and houses and leeching wisps from the foundations towards the storm. 

Vapor Trail flew through a few last clouds in her sector to dissipate them before she heard the reminder, "All units return," in her earpiece. "That means you, Vapor."

Shaking off the cold cloudwater, she responded, "Acknowledged," and began to head back. Her wings were a little stiff from the exertion and the cold, and she could feel a shiver coming on, so she glided back most of the way, glad for the break.

When she arrived at headquarters and got in formation in front of the sergeant, he only stared at her for a few seconds before he moved on. That was his way of criticizing them - in this case for returning late.

"Stormwatch tells me its path towards the city is slowing," Sergeant Aero Ace said. "And its volume is stable, trending down. Textbook choke and divert. Good work, everypony."

There were a few cheers, muted by fatigue from a good day's work - and the look on Aero's face that said there was more.

"... On the other hoof, second shift is down one. We need someone-"

There were groans. Vapor Trail joined in, despite herself.

"-to work a double with Dawntrail's team." Aero checked the crowd with a pained smile, and mumbled, "I'm not happy about this, for what that's worth."

Vapor Trail could feel the awkward moment in the room, and could guess what everypony was thinking - maybe because she was thinking it too. Nopony say anything. Make him pick. But that was unfair to the Sergeant, and some of her teammates had foals, special ponies, families waiting for them at home. He might pick somepony who'd really be missed.

She glanced back at the distant amphitheater, clouded with airships and motes of activity. She was tired, but everypony was tired. It would mean she'd miss the play, but he would be working too, anyway. And they needed the money.

Reluctantly, she raised her hoof.





It was evening. The sky was darkening. Down on stage, the three tribes were arguing in a cave. It wasn't an argument Sky Stinger could recall word-for-word - the insults were different each year, for one - but he knew the story. 

So did the audience, certainly, but as blue lights shone down on Hurricane, Platinum, and Puddinghead, indicating they had turned to ice, all eyes were transfixed. Hundreds of ponies watched on the edge of their cushions. He just didn't see the one he was looking for.

The middle of the third act was always a good time to sneak off, so he snaked along the rigging loft, wound his way around the stage walls, and waited for a pyrotechnic effect to cover him as he flew the final gap in open air. Then he was at the amphitheater walls, and could just float down to the underside and find his ledge.

When he found it, there was a familiar blue pony laying there, taking up the whole spot.

He asked, "Rainbow Dash?"

The pony lifted her head, parting multicolour hair to reveal unfocused eyes. "Yeh?"

"... You're in my spot."

She looked down at the ledge to analyze the situation, then sat up, groaning and rubbing her eyes. "Eh, 's room?"

He sat down next to her and broke out a smoke. "Happy Hearth's Warming."

"Oh yeah, it is!" she slurred with stinking breath. Noticing his pack, she pointed. "Gimme."

He just looked at her.

"Come on, dude - as a gift!"

Sighing, he gave her a smoke, too. She drew deep, and seemed to relax immensely as she exhaled. "Ha-ah. 's a good night, dude."

"That it is," Sky Stinger replied, just as a warbling rumble came across the air, from the direction of the storm. He added, "Not for the weather teams, though."

"Oh, yeah!" She snorted with laughter. "Screw those guys. 's boring. Kick this cloud, kick that cloud. No point. Nothing's gonna happen." She dismissed the storm with a wave. "Boring."

Something clicked, and he turned to the mare. "Hold on, you were with them?"

Rainbow Dash nodded her whole body, and struggled to contain more laughter. "He-he-heh. Yeah, was with 'em." She examined the rising spearmint smoke. "Forget 'em."

Sky Stinger looked back at the storm.





It was night - she guessed. The storm dominated the twisting sky. It had resumed its path towards the city, and by the reckoning of Stormwatch, its volume was trending up, not down.

Vapor Trail's whole body shook, and she was soaked through her flight suit. If she could only get a break, settle down for a moment, she would be alright, but with every minute came a new order over the air. Wrangle some clouds here, scatter some clouds there, meet up with Dawntrail's team for a combined maneuver. And with less light came more danger, more risk of collisions, more constant, isolated work.

Her teeth chattered as she cleared more clouds and was sprayed with more snow, water, and mist. A thunder crack surprised her with its ferocity, and she realized she was much closer to the storm than she should have been.

She turned around, looking for skymarks, but found none. Only a central black pillar flashing white-blue - and getting closer.





It was evening. 

He arrived backstage, sweating from the flight back from his apartment. 

Halflight was looking for him, impatient and angry, but he saw Sky Stinger's face and understood something was going on.

"I have to go," Sky Stinger said.

Halflight glanced at the crack in the curtains, out to the stage and, further, the audience. "We're nearing the conclusion," he reminded Sky Stinger. "Lots of set work. I need you here."

What he said was what his boss would say, but Sky Stinger noticed something about how he said it. His old friend was making it a challenge. Giving him a chance to justify himself.

He looked him in the eyes, and explained, "I'm worried about Vapor Trail. She's in the-"

Halflight dismissed him with a wave. "Go."

Sky Stinger nodded, and flew off, making for the storm.
> Chapter 4
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Hay, wait-!"

Sky Stinger ignored the shouts of Stormwatch office staff as he burst in to grab a radio earpiece. "I'll bring it back!" he assured them, though he doubted that would really assure them much.

Flying into the night, he fit the earpiece in under his new goggle straps and cycled to a few known channels before he found one with weather chatter - and he even recognized a few of the voices from flight school. They spoke calmly, but with an urgency that fit the situation.

He waited for a moment of dead air before saying, "Private Sky Stinger, reporting for duty."

A torrent of questions replied - mostly variants of "who is that?", some ruder than others. There was more chatter, but the dry, commanding voice of Lieutenant Dawntrail - his old flight commander - cut through it. "Good to have you, private. We need all the help we can get. Connect to subchannel Manehattan for storm work."

He switched to the subchannel. "Sky Stinger connecting." A few voices on the other side recognized him, but mostly there was a focus on the storm. He asked, "Has anypony heard from Vapor Trail?"

Dawntrail told him, "She's close to the storm. Report, Vapor…"

The line was quiet.

"Private Vapor Trail. Report."

Sky Stinger kept his eyes forward, towards the storm, and tried to ignore the growing pit in his stomach.





The pillar of cloud and lightning turned in her periphery, no matter where she looked. She was assaulted from every angle by gusts and buffeting winds. Sometimes there was a lightning strike in the distance that, for the instant before the thunder deafened her, made it seem like the crack of dawn beyond the storm. The next one really might have been - for all she knew, she'd been out here all night.

She tried the radio again, but even if she could get a connection, she wasn't oriented, and even if she was oriented, she didn't think she would make sense. Her breath was stuttering, her lips cold and stiff, her wings burning into numbness.

There was, on the other hoof, a pleasant feeling in her. A dull warmth in her core. She knew if she just held on a little longer, pushed herself a little harder, it would all be over. She could lie down and relax wherever she landed.

The warmth grew overbearing the more she thought about it. It turned to a boiling heat. She needed to relax, to sleep, to give up - and to get out of this stifling flight suit and cool off.

If only, with hooves numb from heat, she could work the zipper.





There were more pegasi, and even some griffon freelancers, connecting to the channel for storm work. He doubted many of them had connected by stealing an earpiece, though. With so many hooves - and claws - and the expert command of Lieutenant Dawntrail, the storm was getting under control. Cloudsdale was no longer in danger, and whole regions of sky were being cleared or wrangled according to how it might direct the storm.

But no word from Vapor Trail.

An increasing contingent of ponies were scanning the central pillar, listening for weak radio signals, and, distressingly, searching the landscape below. He was glad to be among the first group, paired with a griffon mare named Gerla.

They were flying danger-close, with Gerla taking the lead as a spotter. It had been - Celestia, he couldn't tell how long he'd been out there searching. Long enough that that was, in itself, a cause for worry.

"Stinger," she called over the radio, "check below to your three o' clock. Base of the pillar."

He checked. The bottom of the storm had become a cyclone, drawing long strings of cloud into it. Though it was lit up fairly well by internal lightning, he couldn't discern anything of note.

But she could have been down there. 

"Let's go," he said. If anypony asked, he'd say he trusted Gerla's eyesight more than his own.

They rolled into a descent to approach the spot she'd pointed out, but nothing resolved as they got closer.

Sky Stinger asked, "You're sure you saw something down there?" Just from the sound of the wind here, he could hardly hear his own voice.

"Swirling in the pillar, yes."

"A pony?"

Gerla looked back at him and shook her head. "Not sure. But it didn't look like a cloud."

Sky Stinger looked down at the cyclone. It was so close, or so violent, that he could feel the roiling of the currents within. Any creature who flew down there would quickly find their powers of flight working against them.

But she could have been down there.

Without saying a word, he dove in with the current, tucking his wings behind his back for speed. Gerla might have said something, might have reached to grab him, but he didn't notice or care. He was going in.

As well as he could, he aimed for a slingshot approach - to whip around the core of the cyclone and shoot back out the way he came. He'd seen it done in tornadoes, but nothing this large, so he tried his best.

There was no hard transition between open sky and raging mist. It just became darker and louder until he was blind and deaf. As he opened his wings to catch the current for the turnaround, he felt the acceleration pulling his blood into his hooves. 

He tried shouting -





"Vapor Trail," came a whisper on the wind. Was that…?





- but the sound was sucked out of his lungs. No luck. As the air started to clear and he found himself thrown back out of the cyclone, it seemed a miracle that he could see Gerla at all. She'd gotten too close.

She yelled, "Idiot!" as he shot past her.

He had no intention of staying to chat, so he just maintained speed to dive back in. Orders came through his earpiece, so he turned it off. No distractions.

In for a second time. Blind and deaf-





"Vapour Trail!"

No, somepony was definitely calling her name. She shouted back without words. "Haaah!"





- and he was thrown back out. This time he spun as he exited, and found he couldn't orient himself. Gerla was nowhere to be seen. Could he just not see her from where he was, or had she left to get help? 

It didn't matter. He'd heard something in there. So he went back in.

This time, he didn't feel the blood rushing into his hooves, didn't feel the building energy for a slingshot. The cyclone had him for good. Still he called out: "Vapour Trail! I'm here!"

He kept calling out until his voice was raw, until his wings threatened to give up, until he felt the chill of cold in his hooves. Even until he began to worry - Is she not here? Did I screw up?

Sky Stinger reached out ahead of him, feeling into the black mist. He wasn't sure why. Something about the sound or the texture of the mists changed. He had a feeling he was about to be kicked in the head. Maybe a tree branch or a piece of rubble was careening out of the dark. So he reached out, to block it, or catch it before it arrived, and he found a hoof.

He pulled Vapor Trail to him, caught her in a bear hug, and put all the energy he could muster into one flap sending them in one easy direction - down.

They plummeted through the storm and into open air, and after a moment of gliding, landed softly in a white field of snow.





She could feel herself being pulled onto somepony's back.

"S-Sting?"

She could feel him speak, more than hear him. "Yeah, Vape?"

"I sh-should ha-a-ave brought th-th-the-"

"Thermos."

She nodded. "Yeah…"

He laughed. 

She didn't know what was so funny, but she laughed, too.
> Chapter 5
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

It was…

Celestia, what time was it?

Celestia, what day was it?

She felt like death. Her whole body was sore, her head was swimming, she had a terrible chill. And she didn't even know where she was.

No - this room was familiar. Just not to wake up to. His living room. She was on the couch under a pile of spare blankets.

She listened to the room, and heard only the dull crackle of the furnace.

Sighing, she laid her head back down on the pillow beneath it-

Only to jump when a door opened.

Sky Stinger walked in quietly, probably so as not to wake her, but when he made his way around the couch, their eyes met. "Oh, hey," he said. "How you feeling?"

"Awful," she answered.

He held up a cylinder. "I brought soup."

Soup was the last thing she wanted at the moment, but still she said, "Thanks."

He put the thermos on an end table and went over to check the furnace, then turned back to Vapor Trail. He just looked at her for a while before asking, "You need anything else?"

That look. It was the look that always made her feel funny. 

She nodded.

"...What do you need?"

She… couldn't bring herself to answer. The words failed in her head before she could even think to speak them. Some of that was from being sick, but the rest-

Something hitched in her throat and her face felt wet.

Sky Stinger was there, and she wrapped her hooves around him, but she wanted to push him away, too. Away from her. She didn't deserve him.

"I screwed up," she cried.

"No, you didn't," he told her.

"I did. I really did."

"... Okay, you kinda did, yeah."

That made her laugh, but laughing just made her cry more.





He wasn't quite sure how it had happened, but Vapor Trail now had her forelegs around him and was cry-laughing into his chest. He just sat there awkwardly, letting it happen.

When she calmed down enough to be sensible, she asked in a fright, "Did you - have you heard from the sergeant?"

Sergeant Aero Ace? She was with him at the time, but it made sense she wouldn't remember. "Yeah," he reminded her.

"Oh no…" she mumbled.

"And from the lieutenant."

"Oh no-o-o…"

He sighed. "They both think I'm an idiot, but they didn't seem that mad about it. Mostly they're glad you're okay, apart from the cold."

She whispered, "But you're not an idiot."

He shrugged. "I kinda am. But I'm your idiot, I guess."

Hold on. He didn't mean to say that. Why did he say that? 

Vapor Trail didn't respond, but when he tried to extract himself from her forelegs, her grip only tightened. She mumbled something into him. "Don't…"

"What's that?"

"Don't leave me."

There he was, sitting on the floor next to the couch, his friend clutching his neck and asking him not to leave. 

"Okay," he replied. "But can I at least-"

She groaned into him, holding him tight.

He relented, and put his one free hoof over her in turn. "Alright, Vape. I won't leave you."





It was sunset. Orange light sliced through the window, which seemed to rise and fall in a slow rhythm. Curiously, every time the window rose, she smelled spearmint in the air. 

She liked spearmint. It was his evening scent.

She could get up to investigate, but she didn't want to move. She was warm and comfortable like this.

Instead, she nuzzled her face back into Sky Stinger's neck, let him wrap his hooves around her, and dreamed that this moment would last forever.
> Epilogue
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

It was sunset. Rainbow Dash was lying on a low cloud, somewhere around Ponyville, napping off another wicked hangover. A shadow suddenly darkened her sky, but that was alright, really.

"Oh, Rainbow…" a familiar voice lilted through the air.

"Hmm?"

"Rest well?"

She nestled deeper into the cloud. "Mhm…"

"Well, that's great!" shouted the voice, and a pair of hooves suddenly wrenched her from her nest.

She opened her eyes and found herself face-to-face with Spitfire, which, even under the best circumstances, did not bode well at all.

With a smile of righteous anger, she continued, "Because you've got some shifts to fill!"