> Spitfire's Day Off
>  by Soaring
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

> The Ribbing, The Landing, And The Cafe
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Spits, why are you here?”

Soarin, who Spitfire saw as one of her best friends, asked her why she was here rather than anywhere else, with Fleetfoot and himself, of all ponies, on her day off.

“I don’t know, Soarin. Is it bad that I wanted to hang out with the both of you?”

Spitfire sighed. She was sitting in the living room of Fleetfoot’s apartment. They were currently on a couch, Spitfire opposite of Fleetfoot and Soarin. The latter were cuddling, Fleetfoot nuzzling right into Soarin’s chest fluff while Soarin had his wings loosely wrapped around her withers. Spitfire felt like she was about to get diabetes from these two, but she wasn’t a huge fan of hospitals, so she avoided it as much as possible by scooting a bit further away from the pair.

However, that didn’t save her from their lambasting.

“Right now? Yes. No offense, I love you as a good friend, Spits. But you should be totally out there enjoying your day off.”

“Her, enjoying her day off?” Fleetfoot piped up, her head now out of Soarin’s chest fluff. “Capt barely knows what a day off is, Soar. Give her a break.”

Spitfire felt her muzzle scrunch up. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Exactly,” the teal furred pile of feathers said with that stupid smirk on her face. She’ll be flying extra laps for this one. “You wouldn’t know because you’ve never had a day off.”

“She’s right, y’know?” Soarin agreed with a sheepish smile, while he frazzled and tousled with Fleetfoot’s mane. This earned him a very burning glare from Fleetfoot. 

“Careful, Soarin,” Spitfire said, pointing a hoof at Fleetfoot’s head. “I think I see steam coming off her head.”

“Spits, Fleety won’t hit me for that—ow!”

“Never assume I won’t bop you on the muzzle for playing with my mane like that!” Fleetfoot growled before diving her head back into Soarin’s chest. “Now go back to petting me while you tell Spitfire to go find Anon.”

Spitfire’s eyes widened. “Wait, what?”

“Oh, don’t play dumb, Spits,” Soarin began while he adjusted his wings accordingly. He gently weaved his hoof through her hair, earning him a soft coo. “Fleety and I both know you two are a thing now.” 

“Was it that obvious?”

Fleetfoot mumbled something, but her voice was muffled by Soarin’s fluff. He smiled.

“Fleetfoot translator here. She said very.”

Fleetfoot moved just enough to make her muzzle more visible and she added, “Soar and I have a bet going on that you two will announce to all the tabloids in a few weeks.”

“I don’t think you will announce it, but I am pretty certain Fleety here knows you way more than I do when it comes to this stuff,” Soarin said, his gaze now downcast.

Spitfire chuckled. “It’s a mare thing. Besides, you were never good at betting on things.”

“That’s why I have all the bits currently!” Fleetfoot grinned. She flitted her wings.

“More like you steal my bits,” Soarin said with an eye roll. “Anyway, enough stalling, Spits. Go get your stal—er, human?”

“You’re learning!” Fleetfoot chirped, nuzzling back into him again. 

Spitfire felt frozen in place, her mind still fixated on how they knew about her and Anon. It had only been a week since she was sick. Did somepony hear them from outside the hall? It made Spitfire’s fur crawl as if her nerve endings were suddenly on fire, but she took a deep breath. She had to keep her cool.

“Alright, alright, you two had your fun?”

“Not until you go see Anon,” Soarin replied, glaring at her. “Seriously, I think he’d love to see you right now.”

“Really?” Spitfire asked with a raised brow.

Soarin threw his free forehoof up, while the other maintained its petting of Fleetfoot’s mane. “Dude, any stallion would be ecstatic if their mare decided to pay them a visit!”

“Hmmm,” Fleetfoot hummed, before nuzzling into Soarin’s cheek. “Guess I need to visit more often.”

“You better,” Soarin said, his not free hoof drifting more toward her withers. “I don’t have anypony else I care about like I do with you.”

“Awww, at least someone cares,” Fleetfoot said, pursing her lips. “Say, after Spitfire leaves, you want to take a nap?”

Soarin sighed and nuzzled Fleetfoot’s cheek back. “Sounds perfect.”

“Are you two kicking me out?”

“Not exactly, more like we’re… prodding you in the right direction,” Soarin advised with a smirk plastered on his muzzle. “Think of us as your wingponies in this situation.”

“Ayy, what he said, Capt,” Fleetfoot said with a mock salute.

Soarin chuckled. “Careful, she’ll make you do extra laps.”

“Don’t worry, she’s already flying double for that comment from earlier,” Spitfire declared with a smirk. Fleetfoot frowned, before bringing her wings out to latch onto Soarin more. Spitfire needed to remember to get a camera next time so she can threaten Fleetfoot with this as blackmail someday. “Okay, so if I fly over to the castle and he’s busy, any suggestions on what I should do while I’m there?”

“Go sight-seeing or something. We always go to Canterlot while on tour or for the Grand Galloping Gala. We never really get to see Canterlot in its glory, y’know?”

“Fair enough,” Spitfire said, her ears splayed against her head. She sighed as she got off the couch and walked toward the door. “Guess I’ll be going then. Make sure you two lovebirds are ready for tomorrow afternoon’s practice, okay?”

“Aye, Capt,” Soarin said dryly. He wrapped his wing around Fleetfoot. “Now go get him.”

Spitfire snorted, before she slung on her saddlebags and walked out of the apartment. Maybe they were right, she hadn’t had a day off in her life. When she was a filly, she could recall taking a day off from school because her mother wanted to take her on an early vacation, but that was the only time Spitfire could recall such a thing. And now here she was, taking her second one, her first one in the Wonderbolts.

What was she going to do if Anon wasn’t available?

Her wings tingled as she walked out of the apartment complex and into the limelight. She unfurled wings and took off, leaving a light gust of wind in her wake. Maybe she was overthinking it or maybe she was destined to be a third wheel for the rest of her career.

Bah. She closed her eyes as she soared into the sky. She’ll wing it like she always had done. That hasn’t led her astray, right?

Right?









Spitfire stretched her wings. She had landed on a nearby cloud that overlooked the city of Canterlot. Yeah, she knew it was a bad idea. Ponies would think she’s scheming on the little cloud of hers and, to be honest, this airspace was a no fly zone, but she didn’t care. No pony was going to bother her. She was just taking a breather.

Yeah, a breather. She was totally selling that one. She had been there for way longer than she should. The sun was high now, and she was definitely burning daylight sitting there looking like some pseudo-stalker. 

She let out a brief blow, before groaning. She was making this way harder than she needed it to be. Like, how hard could it be? She’d just stroll into town with a smile on her face, like she’s lived there for a long time instead of looking like a first-time tourist. Easy. She’d just need to pretend she’s not sight-seeing and just bee-line for the castle. Just walk up those stone steps, ask a guard if they could point her in the right direction, and then she’d find Anon. She’d find him and then…

…she’d figure that out when she saw him standing over her.

Cricking her neck and giving a rather shaky breath, she pounced off her cloudy overlook with some oomph, poofing the poor thing out of existence with her hindlegs. She flew just fast enough that her mane, which she didn’t even work on but still cared about, would not morph into a giant ball of static and sweat, or worse: a foster home for non-imaginary birds who got caught in her next wingtip turn. She whipped around the city’s streets, seeing all the little ponies and creatures look up at her prowess. She felt proud. Proud of herself as she totally owned this improvised act she was putting on.

And then she realized that she wasn’t paying attention, and there was a giant fountain getting closer and closer to her.

She pulled up, her wings angling just right to not completely crash and burn. Instead, she would only just burn, as her wings ached by the sudden up-thrust. She thanked them for saving her life. They helped her narrowly avoid what could’ve been her demise: a pile of orange mush and feathers that could’ve been stuck to the ground. Luckily she was just a shaky mess of feathers named Spitfire. She had landed right in front of a nearby flower vendor, whose rickety old stand of rose and luck catapulted her heart into a tailspin.

Flowers. Her weakness. Both in love and in cuisine.

“Uh…ah. Sorry. Can I get a rose?”

The vendor, a mare who looked like she was about to go bug-eyed at her (it’s got to be the Wonderbolt thing going on here, that’s all Spitfire could come up with), nodded. “That’ll be all?”

Her drawl rang in Spitfire’s ears. “Y-Yeah.”

The burning in her wings were distracting her, while her lungs were trying to catch up with her. She panted heavily as she waited for her rose.

But she wasn’t ready for what she was given. She gasped, her eyes blinking rapidly at the flower. The rose sat in front of her, never wilting and as alive as a rose could be. It looked… great, but not as great as the something that she spotted out of the corner of her eye. That was what she was gasping about.

It was important to her. It was what she dragged her sorry self out of Fleetfoot’s apartment for. A familiar face, one that she could spot anywhere.

She shook her head; tossed some bits on the counter; thanked the vendor, whose drawl of a ‘thank you’ went almost unheard by Spitfire’s beating heart; and munched on her singular rose like she totally wasn’t walking straight for them while keeping her eyes glued on her prize: the only human in Equestria. 

Realizing her heart was still thumping hard in her chest, and her attempts at calming it weren’t working at all, Spitfire resigned from quelling it, choosing to let out a brief blow. She channeled her inner… her and tossed the stem of the now-eaten rose away in a nearby bin.

Spitfire strutted up to her oblivious human and smirked. “Hey, Anon.”

Her human turned around, his eyes wide and jaw agape telling her that Soarin was right. Better get him an apple pie for later. “S-Spitfire?”

“The one and only,” she replied. She prepped herself to get on her hindlegs to greet him. “Thought I’d stop by to see you and—whoa!”

She squeaked as Anon grabbed her by her midsection and pulled her up. She froze, not expecting to suddenly be lifted off the ground. There, she was folded into him, his arms propping her back while she laid belly up. She was held in place, which made her already beating heart keep its fast pace. She was way more aware of her surroundings, but she was also keenly aware of Anon’s presence, as he had essentially cradled her in his arms and was nuzzling her cheek. 

“Anon! What the—”

“Sorry, I’m so happy to see you that I needed to do this.”

“Needed? That bad of a day already?”

A low growl emerged from Anon’s throat, tickling Spitfire’s fur since he was still nuzzling her cheek.  He looked away briefly, before he walked over to a nearby bench. He sat down and brought her closer to him, which she didn’t even know was possible. “Yeah. Had a bit of a run-in with Prince Blueballs.”

“Prince… who?” Spitfire asked, her eyes widened. She was trying to hold herself together, but knowing Anon even before they started being a thing, he was about to make this ten times worse.

“Oh, sorry. His royal pain-in-the-flanks. If he actually blue-balled me, I would be ticked.”

Spitfire rolled her eyes. “Careful, hon. He’s got a large horn and a lot of power—”

“I’ll shove his horn where the sun doesn’t shine if he tells me to ‘run an errand for me’ again. I’m not his civil servant, I’m a royal adviser!”

Spitfire undipped herself from her human’s grasp and scootchied herself enough to still feel comfortable in his arms. “Have you told Princess Celestia about him?”

Anon petted Spitfire’s mane rather gently. He sighed. “I did. She just said, ‘Well, my nephew is a work in progress.’ I told her that it must be permanently stuck there, as he has not changed one bit since I’ve arrived, to which she said, ‘All ponies progress differently.’” Anon huffed smoke out of his nostrils, at least, that’s what Spitfire swore she saw. “She’s way too lenient on him. Dude had something crawl up his ass and died and now his unwashed flanks are ruining my day.”

Spitfire couldn’t hold it in any longer. She laughed. She laughed hard. She felt her body take control, rolling in the human’s grasp. She nearly rolled right out of his arms, but Anon was always careful with her, even if his balancing act looked like he was attempting to introduce competitive pony see-sawing as an Equestrian sport.

It took her a bit to come down from her high she just had, but seeing Anon’s blushing face made her forcibly ground herself mentally. She nuzzled him back. “Ah—sorry… you n-nearly killed me with that, Anon.”

“Well I’ll try to avoid that next time. You almost drew a crowd over here!”

Spitfire’s eyes widened. She looked around, and saw that no pony was looking at her, but there were way more here than when she nearly crash landed. It wasn’t rush hour, was it?

She tilted her head, before hiding behind Anon’s arms. “You know, you could’ve told me to stop.”

“And not see that reaction? Fat chance. I’d rather see that twice over than feign serenity.”

His toothy grin nearly set her off, but she chose against it, simply grumbling to herself.

“Say, Spitty?”

“Hmm?”

“What did you want to do?”

Spitfire felt a fierce heat brandish its sword. It sliced a red hue across her face. “To be honest, I didn’t think that far ahead.”

Anon shook his head while also tsk-tsking at her. “Spitty, that’s not like you.”

“Oh?” Spitfire began. She raised a brow at him before wiggling the two in tandem. “And what am I like?”

“You would have stressed yourself out about this to the point of coming up with something,” Anon said, before poking her with a finger right in her chest fluff. “Now, spill. What do you have in mind?”

Spitfire felt her heart flutter just a bit. Other than him? Not a whole lot. She flew here and was winging it right now. She wouldn’t tell him that though, or the fact that Soarin’s advice was saving her tail right now.

She hummed to herself before smiling at the goof. “Can you show me around?”

“Show you around?” Anon asked as one of his brows raced up his face.

“The Wonderbolts rarely get to come here to enjoy ourselves. It’s… usually a pitstop on tour rather than a vacation spot for us.” She took a good look around. “And from what it looks like, Canterlot has a lot to offer!”

And she was right. She knew it because everything was so… compact. While it was not claustrophobia-inducing, Canterlot was dense. Each street felt like there were shops and homes surrounding them. They were all various shapes and sizes, and colors too. Each building had their own distinct character, not that she was thinking of buying a condo here. No, it was… something she hadn’t experienced in a while. She’d have had to go to Manehattan or Fillydelphia to see this, and even those places didn’t have the crossblend that Canterlot had.

She was impressed. Impressed enough to mention it.

“It does have a lot, but not a lot of stuff that a casual tourist would want to get into immediately. A lot of fashion shows and admiration of the arts. If you’re into that sort of thing, I can do that, but I think, knowing you Spitfire, I can definitely show you something else that might interest you.”

“Oh? What do you have in mind?”

Anon smiled. “Food. And lots of it. And knowing you, I think you’re thinking of the same thing.”

“Why do you say that—”

As if, on queue, her stomach growled. It almost sounded like another living pony was inside her body, screaming for help. She hoped that Anon wasn’t grossed out by that—

“Wow, you really proved my point without even saying it!”

Spitfire groaned. “Okay, so I may be a little hungry after flying from Cloudsdale.”

Anon tilted his head. “Wait, you flew all the way from Cloudsdale?”

“Is grass green?”

“Yeah. And?”

Spitfire facehooved. “I have wings for a reason, goofball.”

“Well, sorry! I just didn’t expect you to fly here just to see me. Thought you’d want to save your energy by taking the train or something.”

“Save my energy? Anon, I’m not some fragile mare. Besides, it's the off-season for the Wonderbolts. Trust me, I have plenty of energy to spend right now, and I know today I want to spend it with you. Heck, I have so much energy right now, that I’d bet I could fly circles around the entirety of Canterlot for hours and still have enough energy to walk around this place with you.”

“Really?”

Spitfire nodded. “Yep. It’s a Wonderbolt thing.”

The two stared at each other. Anon was still holding onto Spitfire, while Spitfire was laying against his arm, huddled toward his chest. Her tail was covering herself while flicking against his shoulder.

Anon cleared his throat. “You and your Wonderbolt things.” He sat her down beside him and put a hand through his hair. “Good to have, but I don’t need to imagine you using the city as a training course.”

“I’ll do it someday so you don’t have to imagine,” Spitfire challenged, nudging his side with her leg. “But alright, enough chatter. My stomach is going to perform a Wonderbolts flight routine if we keep this up.”

Anon gasped. “I didn’t know you drank Redbull, Spitty!”

“Redbull?” Spitfire asked with a raised brow. “What’s that?”

“Don’t ask. It’s a human thing.”

She didn’t like that smirk he was wearing. She gave her human an eye roll. 

“Anyway, I know a joint where we can get some good grub,” Anon said as he stood up. “Wanna go?”

“Lead the way,” Spitfire replied, hopping off the bench. She unfurled her wings for a moment, then took her place by his side.

The two walked comfortably through the crowd, as Anon led Spitfire through the streets of Canterlot.









Part of her was happy. She was happy as can be, sitting in a cafe with somepony she cared about since forever. It wasn’t just her sickness talking at the time, she was… definitely head over hooves for him.

So, why was the other part of her semi-squeamish all of a sudden?

Spitfire took in a shaky, yet soft breath. The blue walls were… nice. The table was round. The seats were comfortable. Ponies were not even looking at her, or him for that matter. They were just fine. They were waiting for the waitress to come back with their food. She had ordered something that Anon recommended to her… what was it again? She blinked rapidly, forgetting what she had ordered.

Oh, right. It was because things changed. They were on a date. They were here and she wasn’t sick. And because they were on a date, her nerves were fierce, like she had stage fright like a rookie, except it was for someone she cared about and she was afraid to screw up—

Is this what love felt like? 

A distinct heat made its return on her cheeks, this time being somewhat of a resident. She knew it was silly to feel this way, but part of her was so… out of it. She wanted to not feel so jittery, but here she was, feeling like she was about to pop off this barrel they call a seat and crawl back into Anon’s embrace.

Now she knew why Fleetfoot was all over Soarin this morning.

“Hey, Spitfire?”

She gasped and looked at Anon. “Y-Yeah?”

“You good?”

“Peachy,” Spitfire replied lamely, feeling her ears splay against her head. 

Spitfire saw Anon purse his lips. He leaned forward, a smirk worming its way onto his face. “That didn’t sound peachy. Sounded more like you’re trying to not pop out of your seat.”

“How did you—”

“I think I’m the only one who has figured out your tells this early on.”

“Early on?” Spitfire raised a brow. Her ears perked up. “We’ve been friends for a few months, Anon.”

“Goes to show how good I am at reading you,” Anon said. He took a sip of his water and licked his lips. “Aren’t I lucky that I’ve been promoted?”

“Don’t get too cocky,” Spitfire warned. She could feel the grin on her face, and it was definitely betraying her right now. “You’re only closing in on the promotion.”

“Guess I’ll get there after you eat that risotto I recommended to you.”

That’s what he recommended to her! Her tail swished just thinking of it.

“Maybe,” Spitfire muttered, before licking her lips. “I can’t believe I actually ran into you outside the castle. Are you sure you don’t have to be back in for work?”

“Lucky for you, Princess Celestia was generous with my time off.”

“Guess I am lucky. But what spurred her to give you time off?”

“She knew I was frustrated after my last meeting with him, to put it lightly,” Anon said with a growl. He took a rather greedy sip of water and then snorted when he realized he was now out of water. He then turned his attention to his silverware, and started playing with his fork. “I think she got the memo that I needed a long walk to clear my head. Although, she probably didn’t expect me to run into you.”

She giggled behind her hoof. “Glad she didn’t, although a long walk and a day off are two different things, Anon.”

“Just like adoring and complimenting, I know.” He flicked his finger against his now empty glass of water, making it clangggg. He snorted. “She’ll understand, Spitty. Actually, she might be pretty curious about you now that you and I are this close.”

“Curious how?”

“Come on, us hanging out here? This isn’t exactly where we would normally be.”

He was right. Spitfire knew he was right. “I hate that you’re right. This is a bit more… of a classy hole-in-the-wall.”

“Right?” Anon tapped his hand on the table. “Man, did our waitress fall into the sink or something? We didn’t order too much, did we—”

“Sorry for the wait!”

Spitfire turned around to see the waitress in question. Her mane was thankfully not the result of submerging her head in water. She had light brown fur, and a more darker shade of brown for a mane. Her green eyes were piercing, though, if Anon’s reaction to her looking his way had anything to do with him glancing over at Spitfire instead. 

“The cooks in the back were having a hay day with the stove. That thing is moodier than Prince Blueblood, let me tell you.” She spotted Anon’s empty glass and smiled. “Also, lucky for you, Anon, I don’t fall into sinks,” she said proudly, setting the big platter filled with food to an empty table beside them.

“That’s Swift Bet’s job?”

“That and losing money,” the mare said with a giggle. She quickly plucked the empty glass and set it on the same empty table. She turned to Spitfire and smiled. “Surprised to see you be his stunt double, Miss Spitfire.”

Before Spitfire could respond, her date decided to jump in instead, “It’s a Wonderbolts thing. She gets paid extra if I get the next—oof!”

Spitfire bapped the silly human with her wing. “You’re not lucky enough to dodge my wing, Anon.” She snickered at Anon’s dismay, his hand rubbing where she hit him on his shoulder. “Looks like he’s now my stunt double.”

The mare laughed. What was her name again? Spitfire couldn’t tell, her name tag that was clipped to her chest fur had ink that was completely smudged, making the writing illegible.

“Good swing, Spitfire. Glad you’re the pony that decided to reel him in.”

“Somebody has to,” Spitfire replied with a smirk, before letting it turn into a smile. “But he has me too, so it’s a fair deal.”

“Damn straight. You better recognize!”

They all looked at each other, before laughing. The waitress slid over their food, the risotto still providing all the warmth in the world in Spitfire’s nostrils, meanwhile the salmon that Anon got looked like it was good… and about to escape his plate.

“Enjoy your food! If you need anything else, let me know and I’ll be right over.”

Spitfire and Anon thanked her, before she walked away, leaving the two alone to themselves. The two shared a brief smile, before digging in.

No more words needed to be said, not when Spitfire’s stomach was going to claw its way out if she didn’t devour her food right this second.
> Flying Blind, Falling Hard
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Spitfire sighed, and so did her stomach.

“Anon, that was some good risotto.”

“Glad you enjoyed it, Spitty,” Anon said, wiggling his eyebrows. “Am I near my promotion yet?”

Spitfire smirked as she walked beside him. “Even closer,” she whispered, nuzzling his side.

Her human sucked in a rather deep breath. “So close, yet so far…”

“If it’s any consolation to you, I’m enjoying our little date thus far.”

The words tumbled out of her mouth. She felt a little bit of heat grace her form. Her hooves tingled, her wings did too. She was just a bundle of nerves that ranged from nervous to happy. Elated in the moment.

“Good, although I’m more focused on netting that promotion. Say, do I get a bonus for being your stunt double?”

Spitfire neighed at that one. “My stubborn manager would need to give me one, and he hasn’t given me a bonus in years!”

“Are you required for one?” Anon asked with a raised brow. 

Spitfire shrugged (as best as she could while walking). “Not exactly. It’s not in our contracts, but sometimes, sometimes… He does cave in.”

Anon grumbled something under his breath.

“What was that, Anon?”

He groaned. “I’ll have to give you a raving review then, huh?”

Spitfire smirked. “I would love to see that happen. He’s addicted to positive publicity, so I wouldn’t be surprised if he caved in. You would have to give me two copies of it though. One to give to him, and one to frame in my office so that way all the cadets see it.”

“We’ll see. I would have to write it first and smack it with the royal seal of approval, just to make it that much more official,” Anon said through a chuckle. He stopped suddenly and turned to face Spitfire. “Well, we’re here.”

Spitfire took in what she was looking at. Between the compact buildings was one that stood out from the group. It was taller and wider than the rest of them and it even had a small porch leading up to its front door. Above it had a dangling sign that read House of Enchanted Comics.

Spitfire tilted her head.

“You took me to a comic book store?”

Anon nodded. “Not just any comic store. It’s actually a combo. The store has two floors for comic book enjoyers, but it also has a full blown arcade in the back.”

“An arcade?”

“Hey, let me tell you. It’s a great place to go to after listening to everyone else’s issues for a day.”

She giggle-snorted. “Didn’t know your position was in customer service.”

“It technically is,” Anon began, chuckling to himself. “Celly asks me to sit in on Day Court nowadays, and I’m just sitting there, with a notebook in hand, jotting down all the gobbledygook some random pony who I most likely won’t care about says to make sure I can… assess what I should advise on, while I’m also thinking about what I want for lunch—it’s just not a great combination.”

“Apparently,” Spitfire said while mentally holding her head at the image that the whole rant conveyed. She shook her head. “Well, let’s get you to assess this place, big guy. Seems like a nice place.”

Anon took the first few steps up the stairs. “Oh, I don’t have to. I know it’s good. It’s way better inside, trust me™.”

Spitfire chuckled and walked up after him. 

When she had entered, a little bell on the side had already rung and continued to ring loud. A large counter was to her left, where the bell resided and swung happily. Meanwhile the counter was large, but it formed into a L, kind of like some of the bars and clubs she’s been to in Cloudsdale and Manehattan. Above the post held what appeared to be part of the second floor, although it didn’t extend as far over as she thought. Beyond it were several racks of comics, each of them categorized by genre, if the signs telling her which ones were fantasy and which ones were non-fiction had anything to do with it. Off to the right was a quiet reading area, where a couple ponies were currently at and sitting in the several couches the store had. They even had a few desks with lamps on them, while a chandelier overhead lit up the whole room.

It was… different. Spitfire was never the one to read these types of books, as she was usually on the go and not thinking about comic books. She didn’t have much time to read, actually. She was too focused on all the paperwork tossed her way to read anything else.

She sighed. Maybe this was something she needed. Somewhat of a slow down after flying all the time.
The wooden floors creaked as Spitfire and Anon shuffled further into the store. 

“Oh hey, it’s that human from last week!”

Spitfire blinked. She looked back over at the counter to see a younger stallion waving a hoof at them. He was pink, with pink and black strands in his mane. His horn was large and his light brown eyes were excitedly bouncing between the two of them.

The human waved. “Hey there, Poptart.”

“Good to see you, man. You finished that album I lent you?”

Anon facepalmed. “No, I haven’t had too much time to listen to it. Celly’s got me stuck on Day Court for the remainder of the week. I should be able to listen to it this weekend though, if I can find it. I think it’s nestled right between my couch or something.” Anon shook his head and continued, “However, right now, I need your help. I brought my date here to check out the place and—”

“Whoa! You’re dating Spitfire?!” 

The stallion gawked at her. She smiled. “Nice to meet you, Poptart.”

“Nice to meet you too. Wow.” He looked her up and down before turning back to Anon. “How did you net her, dude?”

Spitfire let out a laugh. “He hasn’t netted me yet.”

“That’s a lie and she knows it. She’s already smitten with my charm.”

“Charm?” Spitfire raised a brow. “You and that word don’t mix.”

Anon rolled his eyes. “Being in denial is part of her staple now. It’s okay, babe. Playing hard to get makes this way more enjoyable.”

Spitfire mentally noted that. She’ll torture him with it later. “Whatever you say, hon!”

The gobsmacked stallion forced his jaw to close with a hoof. “Wow, you really are dating her. Nice.”

He held out his hoof. Anon fist bumped it.

Stallions.

“Thanks. She’s awesome just like me, so it was a perfect match. Anyway, do you have the latest edition of Power Ponies still available?”

“The one that has the extended fight sc—”

“Shhh-shhh! Don’t spoil it!” Anon had put his finger on the stallion's muzzle, making Poptart freeze.

“Okay, okay.” Poptart said through Anon’s finger. He swatted it away with his hoof. “Yeah, we still got that. Should be in the Superhero section right behind you.”

Anon turned and snapped his fingers. “Nice. Definitely going to get that before I leave.”

“Oh, are you two going to the arcade?” Poptart asked with a raised brow.

“Of course! Gotta get some vengeance on that crane game.”

“Pfft, you still trying to get that plushie?”

“Yeah, but I think with Spitfire being here with me, I finally will get it!”

Poptart laughed. “Good luck!”

Anon matched him with his own as he began to walk away from the counter. “Don’t need it.”

Anon and Spitfire made their way past the counter and through the assorted racks, before walking right toward the entrance of the arcade. She could tell because the sign overhead was blinking rapidly the word ARCADE in bold. Meanwhile, she could feel some of the vibrations of the several games she could only imagine were behind the door. After all, she was not used to this—arcades were something she went to once as a filly and that was it.

Spitfire sighed. Now thinking back, Spitfire didn’t really get to do much outside of flying… flying, and more flying. Oh, and school too, but that also had a lot of flying involved. There wasn’t much time to be anything else.

“Equestria to Spitfire?”

Spitfire blinked. She looked at Anon, who was waving his hand at her. She chuckled. “Sorry, I got lost in my own thoughts.”

“Well, start thinking about crane games and self-indulgence, because we’re about to experience the new and improved arcade room this place has!”

And with that, Anon opened the door and held it for her. “Ladies first.”

“Well aren’t you a gentlecolt?” she replied with a cheeky grin.

“No, I’m just buttering you up so I can get that promotion.”

Spitfire rolled her eyes. “Aaaand now you ruined the moment.” Soaking in the hoof to face combo she was giving him, she took a deep breath and walked through the door Anon opened. She looked around, taking in the scenery.

The room was filled with pink and purple lights of all sorts. Thankfully, they weren’t super bright, as if they were and were strobing like some of them were, she’d probably need to wear her aviators in here. Thankfully, they weren’t as in her face as the nightclubs were. She turned and waited for Anon to walk in, as she definitely needed him to guide her through the maze that she was witnessing.

Anon strolled up next to her, before tapping his leg. “Follow me,” he said, before bee-lining straight for the crane game nearby. It was like he didn’t even hesitate to look at the rest of the numerous arcade games flashing at them.

No, the crane game had all of his attention. 

Spitfire looked at the contraption. It was the one game that has stayed the same since she played it as a filly. Yet, what was inside was different. In front of them were several crane games, each having more random objects than the last: a giant raindrop collection of different colors with small faces on each one, a Daring Do limited edition action figure collection, a Wonderbolts plush collection (which Spitfire felt a bit distant about), and even a sweet and sour candy collection, yet the one that Anon was rushing to play was one where a few small stuffed animals were in, and his eyes were dead set on one in particular. A small dog. It was white and gray, with ice blue eyes. It had a cute small red tongue poking out, and its body was athletic, strong, and most importantly, plush.

She smiled. What a goofball, going for something like that, but she liked that about him. And it made her want to root him on.

“Hey, Spitty.  You want the husky?”

Husky? Is that what they were called? “Oh that wolfdog? Sure. He’s pretty cute.”

“Great, I’m going to get him for you.”

Spitfire tilted her head before smirking and nuzzling up beside him. “Show me what you got.”

Anon licked his lips and smacked one singular bit into the machine. It lit up in response, welcoming Anon like it was not about to scam him of his hard-earned bits. Using his hands, he pulled on the little joystick that they provided, and once he lined up the husky, he slammed that button down.

The crane descended, it descended, and descended, before whirring to a halt. It snatched the dog up and ascended—

“Come on!”

—and ascended—

“BRING IT ON HOME!”

—and it fell from the crane, flipping the dog on its back.

Anon threw his hands up. “Damn. Again!”

“So close, Anon. So close.”

She watched him slam another bit in.

And another.

And another.

Each bit this poor guy lodged in the crane game was another loss of the husky (and a bit of course). But knowing Anon, he was not someone who would give up easily. She watched as each time he grabbed it with the crane arm, it would simply slide out of its grasp, leaving him to once again punch the machine with another singular bit.

Spitfire frowned. They might be here forever before they’d try the other games. Heck, she even spotted one that she would definitely want to try with Anon. It had a bunch of arrows on the ground and two bars (one in the back and one in the front, from what she could tell). Ponies were lining up to play it, and it made her want to do the same.

Yet, here she was, watching Anon groan again over the crane game.

“Hey, Anon, you really think we could—”

“Hold up, Spitty, I got it this time.”

Her ears splayed back against her head as she turned to see him with the crane already on the husky. “Anon, you think it’s—”

Anon turned to her frantically, one hand pointing at the crane arm as it ascended with his desired prize, while the other was petting her mane. “Don’t worry, it’ll be this time. Trust me.”

She watched as it ascended further and further, before locking in place.

Wait. Was Anon about to win?

She too watched closely as the arm held onto the husky for dear life, moving it closer to the chute that would give them their prize. She blinked as she saw it slide down the chute.

The alarm bells rang. The lights flashed happily.

Anon bent down to grab his prize for his anguish. “Twenty bits later, and I am now a proud owner of this husky.” He turned to her and handed her the pup. “Well, I was the proud owner. Definitely worth every bit to have you keep him.”

“F-For me?” Spitfire asked, her eyes wide. “Anon, you won it and—”

“And I only did it for you. So come on, take it!” Anon said, shoving it closer to her chest. 

Spitfire couldn’t help but feel her lips tug upward. “Okay, okay!” She grabbed onto the guy and inspected him. “What should I name him?”

“Name him, Mono.”

“No.”

“Anon-but-as-a-dog?”

“What type of name is that?”

“A good one,” Anon said, crossing his arms.

“Whatever you had for breakfast this morning, I don’t want it. So, no,” Spitfire declared. She chuckled at Anon’s dismayed look.

“Anon 2.0. Furry edition.”

“That’s a description and NO.” Spitfire facehooved. “Let me see if I can name him. How about… Walter?”

“Walter?!” Anon almost screamed in disbelief. “Why are we naming the dog after some white guy who absolutely cooks some of the hardest drugs possible in a trailer?”

“What? No, I wasn’t thinking of that,” Spitfire replied, tilting her head. “What were you thinking of?”

“Oh, some dude named Walter White. Which, by the way, what made you think of Walter? That’s not a pony name.”

“Oh… just a memory is all.”

“Okay…” Anon began, letting his voice drift off. He tapped his chin. “Are you sure you’re not a fan of Mono?”

“Yes, I’m not a fan. I’m not naming him after a disease.”

Anon threw his hands up. “Hey, it sounds cute. Just cute and sickening!”

Spitfire rolled her eyes before letting out a brief blow. She groaned.  “I’m serious, Anon! What should we name him?”

“Gimme a sec, gimme a sec!” Anon said, once again tapping his chin. He even hummed to himself something so out of rhythm that Spitfire was afraid to ask him what he was even humming.

Then, suddenly, he snapped his fingers and smiled. “I got it! I know what you should name him!”

“Oh this is going to be goo—”

“Name him Lex!”

“Lex?” Spitfire said with a raised brow. 

“Yeah! Lex,” Anon said, staring down at the husky. He patted it gently, before nuzzling her cheek. “Spitty, that is a perfect name for a husky. Not too common of a name, and from what I remember, Lex is a combination of cool and adorable.” 

Spitfire smirked and nuzzled Anon back. “Well, you sold me on that name. Lex it is!”

The two relished in their victory for a little while longer, before Spitfire gently placed Lex in her saddlebags. She flicked her bag shut with her wing and fastened the pouch shut with her maw. 

Satisfied with how she stored her new pet, she turned back to Anon to see him looking at her rather intensely. “What?”

Anon chuckled. “Just watching you handle Lex. You were so careful with him.”

Spitfire felt a distinct heat rush to her face. “It’s because you got him for me. I-I wasn’t expecting it.”

“Oh, so you had no faith in my crane game ability, Spitty?”

“Anon, you know for a fact I didn’t mean it like that,” Spitfire said with a punctual eye roll.

“Nope. I’m just facing the truth. The facts. The root of the problem: me, myself, and I—oof!”

Spitfire interrupted him, bapping the silly human of hers on the side of his head with her wing. She smiled and nuzzled his cheek. “Enough of the melodrama there, goofball. Let’s start walking over to the game I’ve been eying for the past few minutes.”

“Okay there, Captain,” Anon mumbled through a wince. The poor guy was holding his head with one of his hands.

Spitfire felt the sudden urge to tease him a bit. After all, if he really wanted that promotion, he’d have to earn it. So, she decided to show him a bit of tail. Walking a bit away, she flicked her tail up against his thigh and turned around, craning her head in a very salacious way. “Come on, stud. Let’s get in line before we miss our chance!”

Spitfire smirked as she knew that most likely got him to—

Suddenly, Anon picked her up, if her being way taller than she normally was was any indication. She felt his strong hands grip around her midsection, making her nearly yelp out at the change of pace. She glared down at him.

“Dude, what are you—”

“Giving you a better view of the arcade, duh,” He said, holding her in his arms again. “Oh, and moving you as fast as we can so we can play that game you wanted to play. It’s the Dance, Dance, Revolution dance off set, right?”

“How did you—”

“I have eyes in the back of my head, Spitfire. I am all knowing, all seeing, and all… everything!” Anon finished with a smirk on his face.

She was totally blushing like a tomato right now and she was not happy about it. “Anon, put me down!”

“Not until we get to the front of the line!”





The front of the line had finally approached them. Spitfire said it this way because, quite frankly, she had been cradled by Anon in front of everypony for… twenty different exchanges. She wasn’t too happy about it, as she swore she heard ponies whispering about her and her human. Yet, she knew if she pointed it out, Anon would probably make a scene or something. She didn’t want that at all.

So, she stayed quiet. And now here they were. Watching two more ponies currently selecting a song. The machine, from what she had gathered from listening to the songs other ponies picked, played various electronic, rock, and pop hits, along with some more uncommon classical songs too. Spitfire was excited to play, but she was way too comfortable in Anon’s grasp that sleep was tempting her to take a nap. She didn’t want to sleep yet, though, so she kept herself awake. Not to mention she didn’t want to provide Anon with any more ammo than what he already had.

Spitfire sighed as she felt his arms leave her body, the heat they provided no longer there. The remaining heat felt like a ghost had clutched her, telling her it would be okay, which, ultimately, made her shiver in place.

She flicked her wings open to make sure no feathers were out of place, and then adjusted a couple there that stuck out. She’d have to preen herself later, doing this out in the open and right in front of ponies would be a different type of performance she was not willing to do for free.

Shaking off the ghost that wanted her, she craned her neck and turned back to Anon. “You ready?”

“As I’ll ever be. I think this tech is new for you ponies, at least, from what I remember.”

“Really? I thought they had these out everywhere!”

“If they did, would there literally be a line this big in some random arcade in Canterlot?”

Spitfire blinked before tilting her head. “Yes.”

“Touché,” Anon said with a snap of his fingers. His gaze went south, for what Spitfire presumed was for the winter. Did humans migrate?

Spitfire sighed. She was mentally and woefully unprepared for this game at this point. The wait in the line had made her feel drowsy, and now that she was standing on her own four hooves, she felt like laying on a cloud.

But then the song for the ponies in front boomed. Her mind drifted back to the nightclubs in Manehattan, when their team had gone on the prowl for a night crawl that ended with them not remembering too much other than Soarin being absolutely plastered, and Spitfire having to carry his sorry pile of feathers back to their hotel. It was a great night, but…

…here she was, not drunk on her day off. She was here with Anon, waiting for her turn to climb onto a somewhat floating platform to play a rhythm game.

The loud synths synchronized with her heart as shivers raced down her spine as the crescendo of their chords collapsed into a bass drop that kept her goosebumps alive for much longer. The ponies playing were sweating as the notes on the screen raced up to the note. Their hooves were scrambling on the playmat as a sudden drum roll made them spam tap all the buttons they had available to press.

It took a few more final strings and chords before the song ended. And then, the two ponies walked away, letting Spitfire and Anon finally get their turn.

“Let’s go, Anon!”

She hopped on the machine, skipping happily over to her play area, and waited for Anon to do the same.

“Somepony is excited to play DDR.”

Her tail swished behind her, betraying her narrowed gaze at him. “Waiting this long in line would make anypony ecstatic, hon.”

Anon walked up the floating platform and smirked. “Fair enough. Unfortunately for you, I’m an expert at this game.”

“Oh?” Her ears flicked up. “You know this game, Anon?”

“Yeah, you ponies and your parallel universe shenanigans have thrown me for a loop when I heard about this game. It’s like our arcades and your arcades are nearly exact duplicates. Not sure how, even though Celestia and Luna already told me about it.”

Spitfire snorted. She knew the story too. He had told her when they first met, and he went on an hours long tirade on why ‘this shouldn’t be possible’ for ponies to have ‘all this technology when they barely used it in the first place’. And he told Spitfire that Celestia told him ‘well when you have magic…’ as an excuse. He apparently grew three heads taller as a response, but that was just Luna pulling a magical prank on him after he had told her about ‘the wacky inflatable tube men’. His neck was like a noodle for a little while, which made him ultimately panic and scream for them to change it back because his neck ‘did not work like that’.

Safe to say, the pranks were toned down.

Spitfire chuckled at the thought. But, she could save her laughter for later. She had a DDR session to get out of her system.

“Well, whatever parallel was drawn here, I know these songs like the back of my hoof.”

“You heard the tracklist?” Anon asked, his brow raised.

Spitfire could feel her lips tug upwards. “Considering we’ve listened to all the songs so far, yes. Although, I never would’ve imagined myself actually playing one of these babies. Didn’t think I’d have the time until when the season started.”

“Really? Do you not have enough free time during the off-season?” Anon asked, his attention now geared towards the screen attached to the front bar. 

Spitfire looked away and cricked her neck. She stretched her forelegs first, followed by her hindlegs as they talked. “I’m usually—ah—usually busy helping out at the Academy during that time. Besides, during the season, I can just ask one of my teammates to come with me. I’m… I’m not a fan of walking alone in one of these places. Gotta have somepony with me.”

“Appearances and everything, I get you,” Anon said, before whistling loudly. “They got a lot of tracks on this game. I don’t even know any of these artists, well, except Octavia and PON-3. Do you know of this track?”

Spitfire stopped her stretching and looked down at the tracklist that mirrored onto her screen. She gasped. “Wait, they have their collaborations on here?!”

“Yeah, looks like they have a couple of them. Do you know any of these?”

“Of course I do, Anon. They’re good friends with the Wonderbolts, not that you’d know.”

“Of course they are…” Anon mumbled. “Which track of yours is your favorite?”

She excitedly selected the one that she was most ready to play, allowing Anon to hear the track preview. “Gotta be A Slice of Life. It’s pretty good, actually.”

Anon pursed his lips and bobbed his head to the beat. “Alright, not bad. No vocals as per usual. Is this song one of their more popular ones?”

Spitfire stretched one of her wings as she spoke, feeling it pop rather satisfyingly. “Dude—ah, there we go—that song is one of their most popular collaborations! Apparently they used it at some sort of wedding, but I wasn’t invited to that one. Something about Wonderbolt showtimes clashing with the time of the wedding, and for some reason, Matilda wasn’t keen on Soarin’s antics last time they ran into each other.”

“Not sure who you’re talking about, but if Soarin did something that another pony didn’t like, then either he was pissed that there wasn’t an apple pie, or worse.”

“Pfft, nah,” Spitfire said before gasping as she had stretched her foreleg just right. She looked around and noticed somepony not-so-inconspicuously whistling while looking away from her. She blushed and looked back over at Anon. “Sorry about that. Stretching like this is totally needed before I play this game. Don’t want to pull a foreleg or something.”

“Are you trying to pull my leg?”

“Not at all! What made you think of that?”

“Oh, nothing, “Anon said quickly, before turning his attention to the monitor in front of him. Spitfire watched as he flicked his finger across its surface as he continued, “So what did Soarin do then?”

Spitfire licked her lips as she watched him scroll through the list. “Something about accidentally bumping into a statue that they had commissioned way ahead of time. That thing broke so quickly, that there was no saving it from the mercy of gravity.  And let’s just say, Soarin had to hoof the bill. He was surviving on noodles for a couple of months.”

“Jesus, you tried helping him?”

“Jesus? We’re talking about Soarin here! And I’m not taking on his debt! Are you crazy?”

“I must be crazy with that look you’re giving me,” Anon replied, giving Spitfire a slight smile. He then turned his head back toward the screen. “Thought you ponies would be spreading kindness in all sorts of ways, including monetary.”

“I mean, I’d help him if he hadn’t knocked over the most expensive statue of all ponykind.” Spitfire sighed as she got that annoying strain in her hindleg by bending down just right. “You know, we should probably pick a track. Let’s start with A Slice of Life.”

“You sure you want to start with that one?”

“I need a warm up anyways,” Spitfire said, flicking her wings just to make sure they didn’t fall asleep on her.

“Of course you need a warm up,” Anon said, mockingly. He flicked his finger so that the songs rolled, making a rather annoying cling noise every time he passed one. Eventually, he landed on the track and the machine reacted with kindness:

“SONG SELECTED. READY?!” The gruff announcer had bellowed out to the other ponies.

Spitfire kept the layout controls that flashed on her screen as ‘default’. She pressed her hoof and picked the X layout. 

“PLAYER 2, READY,” the announcer declared.

“Anon, are you not using the—”

“What? You ponies and your X layout. It’s so goofy and not favorable for a biped.”

Spitfire raised a brow. “But that’s how everypony plays it.”

“Then you’re all goofs,” Anon replied, smacking his finger on the one labeled handicapable. “Trust me, even though this one is listed like that, it’s the best one for me.”

Spitfire blinked rather rapidly. “I’m not judging, but they might.”

The two looked behind them to see a couple ponies wave at them with sheepish smiles.

“Oh phooey,” Anon said as he turned back to look at her. He waved a hand nonchalantly in her direction. “Who cares what they think? Once they see the score I’ll get, there will be no questioning the method of my madness.”

“Well the time is now to show them the works, Anon,” Spitfire said, nearly chuckling behind her wing. She then flapped it to a close, and got herself in position. She stood on her play area, her hooves set right on the buttons.

“PLAYER 1. READY!”

She looked at her screen. The layout selection disappeared. What replaced it was the play area as four arrows corresponding to their area floated in front of them, before settling at the top of the screen. Arrows began to ascend from the bottom of it, while the song began to play.

She looked over at Anon one last time. He was leaning back, placing his arms on the back rail that usually was to make sure ponies wouldn’t fall off if they backed up too far. But, like her, he was looking at her too. He looked away from her once their gazes met, and muttered, “Good luck.”

“Don’t need it,” Spitfire replied, before looking back at her screen, prepping her right forehoof for the first note.

Octavia’s cello strings burst into the scene, leaving Spitfire to match the tempo, her hooves click-clacking in sync, each arrow being pressed to match. Since this was the ‘slower’ part of the track, the whole part was easy for her. It was actually so easy, that she could sneak a glance or two at Anon while she kept pace, while he, for some reason, wasn’t looking at her.

As her dance made her prance almost seemingly in place due to PON-3’s electronic drums mixing in with the strings, Spitfire knew that Anon was definitely going to have trouble with the next part. There was no way he was going to full combo it.

She licked her lips as the song picked up, head bobbing to the rising tempo. Her body swayed into the button presses in tandem to the quicker pace. Her legs worked harder, stronger, faster to strike the arrow keys precisely and swiftly. Her withers and flanks lifted to hit the double presses front and back, her body expertly riding the wild waves of the electronic symphony. But as it picked up more and more between each break, she was starting to need to stomp rather quickly, especially during the drum roll, one of the longest of the song.

For a split second, Spitfire took a peek at Anon’s screen. She needed to know if he had made it this far without dropping a single note. She gasped when she saw the number, the same number that was on her screen.

He had actually combo’d it all with two feet.

And worse, time seemed to slow down around him. Spitfire noted his movements, Anon’s legs criss-crossed to the song’s difficult double presses. Where Spitfire was a precision machine, Anon was a style savant, feet sliding and shifting to each button with frenzied grace. Leave it to him to twist his body mid hop to step on a rotating series of twin steps, flashing a ‘V’ with his fingers and the cheekiest of grinning winks at the growing crowd who was whooping and cheering for the popular duo. Half as many legs, yet somehow equal competition. Spitfire could not tell if her heart fluttered out of effort or how lithe his body was.

She let out a brief blow and focused hard. She, somehow, had managed to not break her combo (her hooves almost missed some notes because she was totally distracted by Anon). The song was continuing its course, laying down doubles, triplet patterns, and even a few long stacks that made Spitfire question herself how she hit them, but yet again, this game was way easier with four legs, even she could admit that.

However, when the song faded out and the final score screens were shown, Spitfire noted that she had full combo’d the song. She only dropped a couple late notes, so her accuracy was a bit lower than a perfect score, but she still got a S-rank. Now she just had to do was look over at Anon’s screen and—

“PERFECT!” the announcer said. “PLAYER 1 WINS. NEW BEST SCORE!”

—Spitfire’s shock was on full display. Anon somehow not only surpassed her score, but he had beaten it with one hundred percent accuracy with a bonus score that actually sniped the top score that was already set by one of the princesses? She thought she could’ve gotten away with a few late hits, but seriously? Anon did it? A double S and then some?

“I know, you don’t have to tell me twice,” Anon said, striking a pose.

Spitfire shook her head. “He only said it once, Anon. That second one was you talking to yourself.”

Anon looked behind him to see a pony screaming happily over at him. He turned back around to Spitfire and tilted his head. “Are you sure it wasn’t that pony jumping up and down?”

“I’m very sure about that. They’re not even looking at you!”

Her dumb human looked back at the pony who now hopped around what appeared to a spinning white machine. He sighed before turning back to her. “Oh,” he murmured before facepalming. “Anyway, that was a fun song. Feeling a bit winded already though—”

“How did you get the handicapable layout to actually work?”

“Dude, I have two legs and a back bar to brace myself with. Do you really think I wouldn’t know how to work this layout?” Anon said with an eyeroll of his own. He whipped his hand through his hair for a moment before continuing, “Besides, this is how all the pros do it back home. DDR is super competitive.”

“Guess we need to team up when the DDR competitive scene starts in Equestria,” Spitfire said. It was tempting to move over to give him a bump with her flanks, but she had to keep herself in line. Not to mention, once she hops off the platform, somepony else would consider it as theirs. Besides, they had one more song to do.

“So, any compliments you got for me, Spitty?”

“Nice score, Anon. Surprised you sniped Princess Luna’s top score.”

“Guess I’m going to get an earful once she hears about it,” Anon said, scrolling once again through the tracklist. “Say, you’re not going to tell her, are you?”

“Pfft, that depends on how the rest of the night goes.”

Spitfire’s eyes widened. She… said that, right? That’s what she just said? Her mind wrapped itself in a cocoon in some cave somewhere, and it stayed there, writhing as she realized the embarrassment that wore through her entire body.

Did someone leave the heater on?

“Wow—I didn’t know you had it in you, Spitty,” Anon replied with a cheeky grin. Stupid human. “You know there are foals around, right?”

Spitfire couldn’t feel the heat on her cheeks anymore. It was just SEARING HOT, her mental landscape burning the fires that laid Tartarus’s scorn on the forests that were once at peace inside her mind. “Dude, I-I didn’t mean it like that!”

“Well what did you mean?” Anon leaned closer to her. “Because that sounded like a request that I would want to hear for later on tonight, not now in front of everypony here.”

“You—you would want to?”

“Of course, I don’t think Celly would be opposed to giving you a guest room—”

“Not like that, Anon.”

Anon blinked. “Oh, so you did mean it that way. I was just making sure I offered the alternative first.”

Spitfire sighed and turned to her pad in front of her, flicking through the songlist with a hoof. “Let’s table this for later then, I’m… I’m not sure we should talk about it like you had said.”

“Right… right, sorry,” Anon went back to looking at his tracklist too, at least, that’s what it looked like from what Spitfire gathered from her peripherals.

She totally needed to focus. Just find another song, and then get out of there. But make the song worth it, make the performance worth it. She wasn’t going to let Anon win this time.

She flicked further up until she saw a song that caught her eye: Cloud Cascade. It was listed as an unknown artist, one of several songs that went by that name. It threw her off, as none of them seem to be played.

“Hey, Anon, do you know of this song?” Spitfire asked, her hoof tapping the song on the select screen to preview it.

Anon’s eyes widened the more he listened to it. “This… this sounds familiar. How did you…?”

Spitfire tilted her head. “It’s showing up under an unknown artist, so—”

“There’s. No. Way. Either Princess Luna and Celestia ported some of my songs on my nearly dead cell phone, or someone is playing with the whole parallel universes shindig.” Spitfire watched as his finger flicked down the list, while his eyes darted all over the song list. “There’s no way! How are all of these here? And why are they mostly instrumentals?”

Spitfire didn’t know what to say. She didn’t know if Anon was about to jump off the platform and chase down Princess Celestia all over his song playlist, but if these were truly music from his world, she wondered…

Spitfire shook her head. “Sorry, Anon…”

“Sorry for what?” Anon said with a… grin? Why was he smiling at her like that? “You shouldn’t be sorry, you just discovered music that I thought I wasn’t going to hear ever again! Spitty, I… Let’s play the song you wanted to play.”

“Cloud Cascade?”

“Yeah. Even if it’s just an instrumental. At least it’s something.”

“Do you… know the artist?”

Anon sighed. “Most of my memories turned into swiss cheese when I got here. It’s like I lost it when I went to sleep that night and I woke up just… living. Granted, some of the memories still exist, but there’s a lot of blanks I have to fill in.”

“Oh,” Spitfire said. That’s all she could say to that. That’s definitely something they should talk about later. “Eh, well I’m glad you at least get to hear something from your time on… Earth, right?”

“Yeah, Earth. I.. I don’t know but hopefully this will spur some good memories.”

“No second thoughts?”

“Spitty, hit the play button before I change my mind.”

“Alright, alright, don’t get your pants in a bunch,” Spitfire said. She smiled when she heard Anon groan at that one. 

The screen lit up when the song was finally selected. “SONG SELECTED. READY?!”

The layout screen floated in front of them. Spitfire tapped her hoof and prepared herself. She tapped the ready button.

The play area on the screen was set in place. And the song began to play.

Spitfire licked her lips as she raised her foreleg, and slammed it against the corresponding note. She began to lose herself in the guitar riffs and drums—she had never heard of anything like this in Equestria, it was exhilarating as she stomped her hooves against the platform. Her legs began to wobble, but she persevered, her eyes glued to the screen.

She kept her precision, up until the song decided to change, to a slower calmer pace. Slowly the drums began to fade back in, and the drummer decided to throw a few too many fills in. 

Spitfire yelped as she accidentally missed the note she needed, but when she was about to express her distaste—

“SHIT!”

Anon screamed and slammed against his side of the platform. He had grunted on his way down and was currently holding his leg.

“Whoa? Are you okay?” A nearby pony said, rushing over to his side.

The game suddenly felt way less important. 

“Anon!” Spitfire yelled as she fluttered over to him. She helped him up to a sitting position by propping him on the nearby bar brace. “Are you okay?”

Anon gritted his teeth and groaned. “I-I don’t know. I don’t feel any pain, but maybe that’s my adrenaline suppressing it right now.” He let go of his leg and attempted to move it as slow as he could. No pain showed on his face, which made him move a bit closer to Spitfire. “I think I’m good.” He reached out to her, his hand open. “Pull me up?”

Spitfire grabbed onto his hand and pulled back. He winced as he tried to get up but was able to get so, shakily standing on his own two legs. He let out another sharp exhale, and from what Spitfire could tell, everything looked okay. Okay enough for him to walk? Maybe.

“Come on big guy. That’s enough DDR for today.” She turned to the other ponies in line. “You guys can take our spot.”

“Thank you, Spitfire!” A mare said, looking over at her filly who asked ‘Mom, is that really Spitfire?’. It made Spitfire smile and wave at the filly, who gasped and stared at her like the little one saw her as a mirage in a desert. 

Spitfire turned away from the scene, before stifling a giggle. It was always great to be reminded of her job like that. Any other way where it involved cameras and scandals could be tossed in a nearby dumpster.

“Sorry I couldn’t get through the whole song, Spitty,” Anon said.

“Pfft, no worries,” Spitfire replied, thanking Anon mentally for getting her back on track. She glanced at her human’s not-so-injured leg. “I’m just glad you didn’t need to go to the hospital. What did you try to do anyway?”

Spitfire’s ears flicked up as Anon spoke, “Tried to flip around for some style points. Missed completely and slipped on the edge of the play area.”

She laughed. She laughed hard. “Anon, why were you attempting to show off?”

“Gotta match up to you somehow,” he muttered, which made her laugh even harder. “What?”

“That was silly. Hope you learned to leave the showboating to me and my team.”

Anon snorted. “Not a word—”

“Oh, I won’t say anything…”

“Oh thank God—”

“Yet,” Spitfire declared, a grin on her face. “Gotta make sure I mention this to my teammates. Can’t believe you attempted to show off to other ponies and almost tore your—hey!”

He had interrupted her spiel by rubbing his hand in her mane. He smirked. “That’s fine, as long as turnabout is fair play.”

“Turnabout is…?”

“I know that you have more than just that bear, Spitty.”

Spitfire gasped. “Don’t you dare…”

“As I said, turnabout is fair play. You should be okay with that, right?”

She pursed her lips and frowned. She couldn’t even respond to that. How did he know about her plush collection? She kept that hidden well underneath her bed! She sighed, knowing that her dignity as a Captain was now in the hands of her human. 

Maybe it was in safe hands? She could only hope, as she mentally began writing her will just in case.

Walking out of the arcade with her human in tow, the two were about to pass the counter of the Enchanted Comic Books store when Poptart, the stallion from before, noticed them.

“Anon? Heading out already?”

Anon nodded. “Looks like it. Probably should get that comic—”

Poptart smirked as he magicked the issue right over to him. It dropped right in Anon’s hands. “Don’t worry about the bits, I’ll put it on your tab.”

Spitfire raised a brow. “How do you have a tab at a comic book store, Anon?”

Anon looked elsewhere, including the floor, which was brown as can be. “Uh… don’t ask.”

“Are you hiding—”

“Nope, nope, nope! Don’t ask.”

Spitfire chuckled. “Oh? Do you have some risque comic books I should know about, Anon?”

Poptart smirked and walked over. “He’s bought a few, but I can’t tell you which ones.”

Anon glared at Poptart. “Dude, why did you tell her? That’s against the bro code!”

“Hey, that was just me giving you a nudge. You guys are dating, right? Maybe she’s down to read some of them with you?”

Spitfire watched as Anon turned into a red tomato, his face fully redder than any apple she’s ever seen. She was going to milk this for what it's worth. “Maybe at a later date, but you know, maybe you should start preparing, Anon. I could see us trying to reenact one of them back at the castle...”

That short circuited Anon, if his deadpan stare was evidence of that. His tomato faced look remained, and a bead of sweat raced down his cheek.

Spitfire laughed as she took the book out of his grasp and slid it in her saddlebags. Once she got it snug in there, she turned back to Poptart, smiling all the while. “I’ll keep loverboy here in check, Poptart. Thank you for getting that comic book for him!”

“No problem,” Poptart said as Spitfire was pulling her frozen human out of the establishment, being careful of his head. “Have a good one you two!”

“Will do!” Spitfire shouted back. She tugged on his leg and was able to get him out of the door enough so that other ponies could get past them. “Equestria to Anon? Hello?”

Anon shook his head rather rapidly and walked shakily down the stairs. Spitfire watched him as he turned around and glared at her. “I can’t believe you said that.”

“Had to get you back for messing up my mane,” Spitfire said as she attempted to fix her mane. She sighed when it was no use, she’d have to style it once she got back to her apartment in Cloudsdale. “Good thing you’re not upset about it, right?”

“No, but I’d be lying to say I wasn’t at least somewhat worried.”

“Worried? You were blushing like a tomato, big guy,” she said, nudging her date playfully with her wing. “But I guess it was all worth it. Thank you, Anon, for taking me out today.”

Spitfire looked up to see him smile back at her. “Anytime. Although, it’s pretty late now. We probably should start getting back to the castle.”

He was right. The sun was starting to fade into the distance, an amber fade greeting them. Knowing the time, she was definitely not a fan of flying all the way back to Cloudsdale at this hour. It wasn’t because she couldn’t do it or there were any hazards, but more so that she was… tired. They had spent quite a while just goofing around Canterlot. Not to mention her flight here did actually make her feel a little bit of fatigue…

“Yeah, we probably should head back, huh?”

Anon nodded and began to walk ahead of her. “Yeah…”

Spitfire walked behind him, wondering if the disappointment that had eased into his voice meant something more was to come.
> Where She Found Love
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

“...and that’s pretty much the majority of Canterlot’s hotspots. Not that we got to see how busy they were because everypony was heading home, but hey, better to know where they are in case you stop by again, y’know?”

Spitfire smiled. “Thanks, Anon. I know you didn’t mean for us to take the more scenic route, but it was nice to finally see the Canterlot Library.”

“Hey, you were the one who caved and decided to see some other parts of Canterlot. You were totally lying that you were tired, right?”

“N-No! I’m… I’m tired. It’s just, I was worried about you walking still and—”

Anon snorted. “I know. Seeing me like that really put you into Captain mode, didn’t it?”

“Yeah…” Spitfire said, hanging her head. Her ears laid comfortably back against her head. “But hey, I guess it was a cramp that you needed to walk off.”

“Humans are pretty resilient. What sounds like the end of the world most likely isn’t the end of the world.”

“Well, you’re not wrong. That definitely sounded worse than a cramp.”

“Charlie horses are the bane of my existence!” Anon declared, making Spitfire giggle. 

She shook off the itching feeling she felt on her back, even quickly flitting her wings to make sure it wasn’t her wing joints aching. Thankfully, they weren’t. She hadn’t needed to fly anyways. It was really her hooves that were aching, after all.

Spitfire and her ‘loyal and mentally promoted to stallionfriend’ (whatever they call them for humans, she did not know), had navigated their way out of Canterlot’s more densely populated section of the city and were a few steps away from the castle grounds entrance. They had taken the scenic route to really get the rest of the Canterlot experience, but that experience was more of a, ‘Here’s the Art Gallery, where ponies can look at paintings for a while, and, oh, here’s the Auction House, in case you wanted to spend more money on the same paintings that were from the Art Gallery…’ approach, where Anon injected his own thoughts into it. That made the tour way more… interesting to Spitfire, as she was really invested in her human’s perspective.

After all, he was not only an alien, but he was also very… eloquent with his choice of words. She wanted to know more of what he thought. And how that correlated to Canterlot was only circumstantial. He’d take a pause to really get a landmark down if he cared about it. She had mentally noted each one he didn’t skim over, but the one that took her a bit to understand was actually the Canterlot Train Station. For what she gathered, he didn’t care about the station. He just wanted to signal to her that he wanted to visit her next time, and he hinted heavily at getting a train ticket. She definitely was not planning their next date in her head because of that. Not one bit.

“Spitty?”

“Hmm?”

Anon craned his head toward her, his gaze searching her face. “Head in the clouds?”

Spitfire chuckled. “No, no. Just thinking is all.”

“Guess I was close.” Anon smirked. “Alright there, Starswirl’s student. I’ll let you go back to thinking about the magical world of books.”

She groaned inwardly. “If I was a protege of Starswirl’s, I’d need a horn, Anon.”

“Fair point.” 

Her goofball turned back to where they were walking, which was definitely not anywhere near the Canterlot Library. They were currently walking towards the central entrance of Canterlot Castle. There were stairs that greeted them, and they were about to walk up them, when Spitfire had a thought lingering in the back of her mind.

Something was missing. That something was definitely not something she was willing to let go.

She didn’t want this little date of theirs to end.

“Hey Anon?” 

The human looked down at her and tilted his head. “Yeah?”

Spitfire yawned a bit, before licking her lips. “Is there anything else that I need to know about Canterlot?”

Anon paused and tapped his chin. “Not sure. I mean, I showed you the different libraries and art galleries there were. There are other places too, like the Opera House, but it’s not… it’s not as cool as some of the other places.”

“Yeah, I get you,” Spitfire said, before letting out a brief blow.

He picked up on her little displeasure, if his idle hum gave fruit to anything. Yet, when they went up the few steps, Anon stopped her, her muzzle bumping right into his hand.

Spitfire rubbed her face. “Anon, what gives?”

Anon turned and smiled. “I found one more place that we need to go to.”

“Where?” Spitfire asked, her ears flicking upward. She looked around and didn’t notice anything in particular.

“Don’t worry, just trust me, Spitty!” Anon replied, running into the night.

Spitfire found herself galloping behind Anon as he led them deeper into the castle grounds. Surrounding them were gardens of all sizes. Flowers were full and in bloom, while paths etched in the ground swirled and bended chaotically in front of them. Where was he taking her?

Eventually, the path wound itself toward a giant garden, filled with sculptures that stood taller than the one that Soarin knocked over. She tilted her head. Was he taking her here?

Sure enough, her hunch was validated as Anon skidded to a halt. He looked behind him and caught her as she did the same. “We’re here.”

“Wasn’t expecting you to just suddenly take off!”

“Sorry,” Anon apologized, trying to smile but ending up with his lips twitching. He held her close as he explained, “I just like to keep you on the tips of your hooves. Come on, let’s sit over there.”

He pointed at a nearby bench and began to walk over to it. Spitfire followed suit, taking a deep shaky breath. Couldn’t they have just gone inside to do this instead? What’s the difference?

Sighing, Spitfire watched as Anon sat down before patting his lap. “You coming?”

“Of course I am,” she said, glaring at him. She carefully hopped onto the bench and sat down. “So, why did you bring me here?”

“Just wanted to show you where I actually found myself when I first dropped into Equestria.”

“Wait…” Spitfire soaked in what he said, eyes blinking and gaze steady. Suddenly she gasped. “You were found here?”

Anon nodded. “No recollection of anything. Just here. In the gardens. At night. I woke up to see a bunch of fireflies around me and I thought I was back home and had accidentally fallen asleep at the park.” He looked out as if he was taken back to that time… “It’s surreal, really. Waking up to a place you didn’t think you’d be at. Only to be scared shitless when you realize you aren’t where you thought you were.” Anon solemnly laughed, his weak chuckle making her lean closer to him. “I remember being so worried, wondering where my family was. I didn’t know that I was just yanked away from Earth and placed here. Abducted in a park, can you believe that?”

Spitfire scooted closer to him, her ears now splayed against her head. She quietly laid her head down on his pant leg. “I’m sorry you had to go through that, Anon.”

She felt his hand grace her mane right for once. He petted her mane softly, earning him a mewl from her. “It’s… okay. I’ve come to grips that I’m most likely stuck here forever. That’s why I’m partial to this whole dating thing with you, Spitty.”

Spitfire’s ears perked up again. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah. I remember what I said to you when you were sick. You just have to let me figure this out. I mean… it shouldn’t be too hard, right?”

“Considering you froze in place at the comic store, I think you’re starting to figure it out,” Spitfire replied, giggling behind her forehoof. “I don’t know if you caught all of what I did today, though.”

“Eh, I can read you but not all of you, I guess,” Anon said, putting a hand behind his neck. He scratched it and sighed. “I’m glad you and I are dating now. It’s great to be dating someone that I’m friends with.”

“Same to you, big guy,” she said, before humming happily to herself. 

The two sat in silence for a moment. Maybe this was what love felt like. Spitfire hadn’t felt this in so long that it had felt so foreign to her. Yet here she was, basically cuddling with her partner in a garden. It was not terribly cold out, it was just right. All it needed was some natural lighting and—

Spitfire’s eyes widened. A blink in the dark burned happily. Then it stopped.

Was that what she thought it was?

It sparked again in response.

“Anon! Look.”

Anon looked to where she was pointing her hoof, and suddenly, as if on cue, a swarm of fireflies danced all around them, blinking happily.

“Wow…” Anon said, his goofy smile telling her all she needed to know. 

“Looks like the fireflies are out now. It’s like they were watching us or something.”

“Guess so…”

Anon looked down at her, and she was still looking up at him. Slowly, Anon’s face moved closer to hers, and if his hand cupping her cheek was anything, he was definitely making his move on her. She closed her eyes and reached up to reciprocate. Was this…

“I can’t believe my sister of all ponies told me that I had to go check on the gardens at this hour! What am I going to need to do here and—whoa!”

Spitfire and Anon froze before turning to the sudden intruder. It was Princess Luna, who was also frozen in place. 

Of all ponies to ruin a moment! It was a princess.

Spitfire groaned. “Hello, Princess Luna.”

The princess shook her head. “Hello Spitfire… I am sorry to intrude on such a moment.”

Anon shook his head and let go of Spitfire’s cheek, choosing to lean back. “You weren’t intruding on us, Lulu.”

“Nonsense, I definitely was. I should’ve kept my volume down or noticed you both sooner. Also, Anon, why do you choose to call us by that name?”

Her human chuckled. “Because I know it gets under your skin if I say it.”

“Why of course it does! That nickname is only reserved for my sister to say. You saying it makes me feel like you’re belittling me!” Princess Luna complained, stomping her hoof firmly on the dirt path. She approached closer and sat on her flanks. She hung her head low. “I am sorry though, verily. If I may ask, are you now an item?”

Spitfire nodded. “Yes, Princess. We are.”

A blush filtered its way onto her face, or at least what it felt like. Luna mirrored her for a moment, before she smiled. “I am happy that Anon finally found somepony to share himself with.”

“You are?” Anon tilted his head.

“Why the confusion, Anon? Do you believe me to be a liar?”

“No,” Anon replied, chuckling in-between his words. “I just couldn’t imagine you saying that!”

“Just because I made your neck twice as long as what you call a giraffe’s does not mean that I hate you!”

“Don’t remind me.” He held his hand up at her. “I still have nightmares that my neck will suddenly go elastico one day.”

Spitfire chuckled behind her hoof. “Could you record it next time? I need to see this live.”

Anon glared at her, but Princess Luna on the other hoof looked like she was about to bust out laughing, holding herself with her forehooves. “I will ensure to print the memory in your dreams, Spitfire.”

“Please consider promoting yourself to acquaintance, Luna.” Anon interrupted, his brows furrowing.

“A promotion? That sounds like a demotion to me, Princess!” Spitfire nudged her human as she said it.

Princess Luna gawked at him, before crossing her forehooves against her chest. “The blatant disrespect! Do not treat me like you do our nephew!”

Anon groaned. “Don’t remind me of him either. If he was French in the old days, he would have deserved the guillotine.”

“Luckily, he’s not Prench because a guillotine doesn’t sound so great,” Spitfire remarked, wincing.

Princess Luna smirked. “I do know the ways of the old forms of execution. However, I do believe that method may be messier than my sister would allow.”

“She’d allow a non-messy execution?” Anon said with wide eyes.

Spitfire felt a bead of sweat suddenly race down her face. Princess Luna wasn’t serious, was she?

She waved a hoof nonchalantly at her and her human. “No, that was also in jest. Ahem, pardon me. My humor stems from ages long ago.”

“Don’t quit your day job, Luna,” Anon said, rolling his eyes. 

“You mean night job—”

“Yeah, that too. Speaking of, why are you out here?”

Princess Luna sighed as Spitfire let Anon lead the conversation. “I am unsure. My sister said I was to look for somepony, but I guess she meant you, Anon.”

“Why is she looking for me?”

“Well, I do not know. She did look a bit agitated, probably because she had to conduct Day Court alone.” Princess Luna blinked and looked between the two of them. “Did she give you a day off? I do not recall you submitting PTO for today…”

Spitfire turned to raise a brow at him. “Anon…”

Anon threw his hands up in the air. “I thought when she said ‘Anon, take the rest of the day off’ she meant I could actually take the rest of the day off!”

Princess Luna rolled her eyes. “My dear sister needs to learn to word herself better while she’s under duress.”

“Duress?”

“She’s… attempting to coerce the Griffon Kingdom in fair trade, but they have been rather… obtuse with everything. She’s bogged herself down as of late.”

“I am aware of that, but how does that relate—”

“She’s out of sorts, for sure. She probably relies on you more than you know, Anon.”

Anon looked down at Spitfire, like he was searching for something in her eyes. She gulped and tilted her head. “Anon?”

He sighed and looked back up at Princess Luna. “I guess she wants to have a chat with me, huh?”

She nodded. “Post haste, if you are inclined. But I believe I can return to her with news that you are with company tonight and will speak with her tomorrow?”

Anon hummed to himself, tapping his chin. Just what was he thinking?

Then Spitfire heard him say something that made her turn into twenty different shades of red:

“Yeah, you can even tell her it’s Spitfire. Celestia’s going to want to know all the details, so at least it’ll ease her in and—”

“Hold up, you’re okay with telling ponies about us?”

That made Anon cup her cheek and pet her mane with a smile on his face. “Of course, Spitty. I am more than okay with that. Are you?”

Spitfire paused before nodding and nuzzling into his hand. “Yeah… Yeah I’m cool with that. Just make sure I’m there so that they don’t think you’re lying.”

“Good call.” Anon sighed and closed his eyes for a moment.

Princess Luna squealed. “Oh, you two are adorable! Okay, Anon. I’ll return to her now and let her know that you will meet with her tomorrow morning. She’ll be so happy about this, I’ll have to make sure she does not want to rush over to your room tonight to ask all about it.”

Anon blinked. “Well tell her that she needs to wait tomorrow. After all, Spitty said it herself: she wants to be there. So, that means this date isn’t over.”

Princess Luna slightly scrunched up for a moment, before her eyes widened. She coughed into her foreleg. “W-Well, it appears I have overstayed my welcome. You two have a wonderful night!”

“Thank you, Princess,” Spitfire said, while Anon chose to wave at her.

“See you around, Lulu!”

Spitfire saw the scoff that she gave him, and laughed.

“Well, that went as well as I could have hoped,” Anon said dryly.

Spitfire chuckled some more before giving him another nuzzle, this time in the crook of his neck. “Think of the positives: at least she’s not against us being together.”

“True…”

“Besides, I’ll be there with you tomorrow. You’re not alone, Anon.”

“Yeah, you’re right.” Anon wrapped his arms around her before returning the gesture. “Since you’re staying the night, I’ll carry you to my room.”

Spitfire rolled her eyes. “You won’t let me walk beside you to retain my dignity?”

“Nope! You signed your dignity away when you and I became friends.”

“And now as your marefriend?”

Anon stopped and sucked in a deep breath. “Okay, you do have a point.” He sighed and plopped her back on the ground. “I probably should have thought of that when we were in the arcade—”

“Don’t worry. It was fine. You want everypony to know anyway, right?”

Her human nodded. “Yeah, but I wasn’t thinking about it like that at the time…”

She walked up right to his leg and rubbed against it happily. “Then don’t worry. Now lead the way, Anon. It’s getting late and I—” Spitfire was interrupted by her own yawn. “I am pretty tired.”

He surprisingly also yawned. Yawns were definitely contagious. “Thanks, I caught your yawn.”

“Gesundheit.”

Anon rolled his eyes before he turned around and walked into the castle.

Spitfire followed suit, her tail swishing as she walked.









“Hey, Spitty?”

She snorted forcibly at that nickname. “Yes, hon?”

Anon smiled. “We’re here.”

Her eyes widened. Had she been in her head the entire time? She shook her head away from that thought and stared at the door—er… doors. 

“Wow…”

“Yeah, the double door is massive. Told Celestia that it’s a bit much, but she’s not changing them to my liking. Said it would ‘cost too much and waste her magic’. But hey, if she wants my room to have this large of an entrance, then by all means.” With that, he gripped on both handles and pulled back, swinging both doors wide open.

The nightlight that bathed the room in grandeur showed her how different it was compared to any other stallion’s room that she’s been in. It was… clean, surprisingly. At the end of the room was a giant golden bed that definitely matched one of royalty (which Anon totally wasn’t, but he was probably given the royal treatment). Meanwhile, a fancy couch sat over to the right, and a large bookcase and desk stood to her left. A cabinet stood tall as well near the corner of the room, and a dainty nightstand to the right of it.

The contrast between her expectations and reality was messing with Spitfire’s brain. She hadn’t been in his room ever since they’ve been friends, mostly because Anon was always over at her place or at one of the Wonderbolts' many events. So this was new territory for her. And now that she was his marefriend…

The word hit her like a freight train. Even if she did say it before… it didn’t hit her then. Now that she was here, really soaking it in, she started to feel her nerves fire all at once. She felt silly feeling this way, almost like a schoolfilly with her first crush, but now they’ve flown past that stage with no time to stop. It… made her feel nervous—no, anxious, if her shaking legs had anything to say about it. She hoped Anon didn’t notice, but when she turned to eye up Anon, she stifled a gasp.

He was watching her. He had probably seen her every move. Was… was he looking?

She didn’t know. She didn’t know and that made her curious. Curious enough to imagine her trying something, but not enough to act on it. She just looked at him, and he looked at her, the both of them attempting to get something out there in the open.

She opened her mouth to say what she wanted to ask and—

The doors interrupted her train of thought, as it had finally closed with a loud thud.

Anon shook his head. “Can’t believe that thing is that loud. It’s like I’m alerting every guard in the castle that I’m home.”

Spitfire chuckled behind her hoof before trotting up to him. “Lucky for them, they also know that you brought me here.”

“Yeah… yeah they do. It’s going to be very different with how they treat us now.”

“I wouldn’t worry about that, big guy. We’ll cross that bridge together when we get to it.” Spitfire hopped up and gave Anon a hug. “Besides, the night is still young, right?”

Anon’s face lit up like a stadium light. “Oh! Right! We probably should take a look at that comic I got from Poptart. You have it in your saddlebags, right?”

Spitfire nodded. “Yep, right in my saddle—hey!”

The human scurried over to her side and unhitched the latch. He opened it and fiddled with the bag, making her feel his hand rubbing up against her flank through the leather. She sucked in a deep breath to counter the feeling, before looking over at him, now sporting not only the comic, but also her Lex. 

She took off her saddlebags and laid them at the foot of the bed. “Hey, why did you take out Lex?”

Her human smiled. “Dude, he’s absolutely adorable—”

“I know, but I don’t want to forget him here!”

“Don’t worry, you won’t. I’ll make sure of it.” Anon sat the dognapped pup over by the nightstand, looking out the nearby window.

Spitfire rolled her eyes. “So, the comic?”

“Right, right!” Anon said, flipping through the comic. His eyes glazed over every page, before sighing. “Actually, are you sure you want to read this comic? I mean, it’s great and all but—”

“But what? You’re not in the mood to read it now?”

Anon slid the comic next to the rest of them in his bookshelf. He smirked. “Well, I don’t know about you, but Princess Luna interrupting us out there got me thinking…”

He stepped closer.

“...and don’t play coy. I know you flicked your tail at me in the arcade.”

Spitfire’s eyes widened. “Uh… Anon? What are you…”

Her human gulped and walked even closer. “And I know one thing’s for sure.”

She backed up as he approached, bumping her flanks against the foot of the bed. She kicked her saddlebags under the bed and looked up at Anon, her ears twitching at the sight of his half-lidded eyes. “And w-what’s that?”

Anon leaned down and grabbed her. “I feel the same way.”

“You… you do?”

“I don’t know about you, but I feel like making out for a little while.” He cupped her cheek as he hoisted her up in his arms. “You down?”

Her mind was racing just as much as her heart. “Are you serious?”

“As serious as a heart attack, Spitty,” he whispered, which made her shiver as his hand ran up her side and nearly brushed up against her wing. “But only if you’re cool with it. I don’t want to do anything that you don’t want.”

Those words rang in her ears. He was really serious about this, and the fact that he asked… he was teasing her with something that she wanted.

But was it too fast? 

Spitfire tried to keep up her cool facade, choosing to give her human a smirk. “I wasn’t expecting you to pick up on that sneak peek I gave you at the arcade.” 

Anon chuckled. “Well, it does help to know the Princess of Love. She pretty much gathered that I liked you to the point of wanting to be with you, so she gave me a few pointers...”

“She did?” 

“Oh yeah, mostly innocent gestures and what not, but she also told me about the not-so-innocent ones. Sorry I lied about that.”

“I’ll let it slide just this once,” Spitfire said as she nuzzled into his chest.

“W-Well,” she heard him stutter as she moved up to rub against his neck. “She’ll probably explode into love dust when she hears t-that you and I are together.”

“Are you okay with that?”

“More than okay, actually,” Anon admitted, pulling her away from his chest. He stared into her eyes, giving her a warm smile. “And to be honest, Princess Cadance turning into magic love dust would also be worth recording. Snap a picture and send it to a tabloid to see how screwy the headline would be.”

Spitfire giggle-snorted. “Now that’s an article I would like to read!”

The two shared a brief laugh before realizing their position again.

“So, Spitty…”

“So…?”

“Are you down?” 

Spitfire felt her heart jump again, while her face blossomed into crimson. She needed to give him an answer. And she knew what she wanted.

So, she took it. “If… If you want to, then sure. We can rain check the com—mmph!”

She felt Anon’s lips grace hers. He kissed her softly, holding her close with his one hand while cupping her face with the other. She returned it just the same, her eyes fluttering to a close. 

The kiss was not how she imagined it to be. It was warm and quite frankly, shiver-inducing. His lips melted into hers with unexpected softness. Spitfire thought since his lips were smaller than a stallions, it would not be as good as she wanted it to be. Instead, its impact dwarfed any possibility of competition. She couldn’t stop shaking from her nerves being set on fire as she pressed further into it, making her heart ramp up its pace. She tried to lick Anon’s upper lip, but he pulled away before she could, leaving her breathless. 

She opened her eyes and was about to ask why he stopped when she was suddenly tossed into the air, her hooves flailing. She closed her eyes again, laughing all the while as she braced for impact. She landed with a loud pompf, landing in a mess of fluff and feathers, the pillows soaking in most of the blow. She sunk into it all before taking a peek at Anon.

There he was, his body overtaking her vision. He was looking down at her, smiling all the while.

“Hey.”

“Hey yourself.”

Anon smirked before leaning in to nuzzle her cheek. “Thank you.”

“For what?” Spitfire asked, furrowing her brows in concern. 

“For being there for me as a friend.”

“Oh, you’re welcome,” Spitfire said, her heart swelling. “But I should be thanking you too.”

“Yeah, you better thank me. I am him after all.”

“Oh shut up and kiss me.”

Anon leaned forward and growled, “Gladly.”

He did. He kissed her again, except this time his form engulfed her, his arms wrapping around her. And she returned it, her wings extending to wrap around him too. Their legs and arms were now intertwined, while their dance of love continued, that softness returning to warm up her heart again.

Spitfire moaned at the sensation, before she pulled away from the kiss. She needed to say this. She needed to say this now.

“A-Anon.”

“Yeah?” he said, breathing heavily. 

“I love you.”

Anon smiled. “I love you too, Spitfire.”

Spitfire took a deep breath and kissed him again. She wasn’t going to let this go. 

Not now, not ever.